sunoorintarou

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Going Home (Christmas Special pt. 2)

Phos!Reader x Gojo Satoru

Warnings: Takes place in the afterlife, kinda angsty, the love confession we didn't know we needed <3, the usual catharsis tags

Notes: Our blue eyed King will be back guys, trust (cope). Anyways, I suggest listening to the Bleach Soundtrack Going Home while reading this 🤝 Happy ending though ig

If someone had told Gojo Satoru in high school that he'd be one of the first of all his friends to die, he would have thrown a fit so bad, he probably would have destroyed the entire school building.

But here he was, lying flat on his back, vision blurring as he heard the distressed screams of his friends and students. Everything was fading. He felt like he was underwater, muffled voices and footsteps that wouldn't make it to him in time echoing.

He feels warm. Warmer than he felt in a long time.

Is this death?

His lashes fluttered as he stared at the blurred grey sky, feeling something cold touch his skin. It was snowing. The very first snow of winter and immediately his thoughts were clouded with you.

Satoru blinked, freezing when he found himself standing in a busy street. Nameless faces fading out around him. He was in high school again, or at least, he looked like he was in high school. He scanned his appearance in the window of a shop, noting how he wasn't wearing the familiar red scarf he had adorned so many times in the cold.

He froze. A certain realisation hitting him. If he wasn't wearing that scarf, then-

"Gojo - san!"

Satoru spun on his heel, blue eyes wide and sparkly. In the middle of the crowd, there you were. A familiar figure that had his hands reaching out to grasp any possible part of you that he could reach.

Same phosphophyllite eyes and hair, same concerned gaze, same pretty face and unsteady posture, and of course, his scarf that he had given to you one particularly cold day wrapped tightly around your neck.

"Hey, Satoru? Do you like her?" Suguru asked bluntly. If there was someone who knew Satoru, it was him. He could recognise the longing in his friend's eyes, the way he straightened his back when you were around, teasing you endlessly but dropping everything the moment she needed something.

Today, Suguru had finally had enough. You had been telling them about something mundane. Some show you watched, or some dessert you had tried, Suguru couldn't really remember. While he and Shoko always humoured you, he noticed that Satoru was suspiciously quiet, turning to glance at his friend, ready to ask if he was alright. But what he saw almost made me want to dry heave right then and there.

Gojo Satoru. The Gojo Satoru was staring at your side profile with the kind of lovesick gaze he'd only ever seen on a 13 year old girl in a coming of age movie.

His eyes were so soft around the edges, trained on you as you spoke, a smile so adoring and dreamy on his face that Suguru was almost 100% sure that he wasn't listening to a word you were mumbling. Probably fantasising about your pretty face and how much he wanted to kiss you, hold your hand, hug you, or something gross like that.

Suguru swore there were hearts floating around him and that if he were alone, he'd been kicking his feet, giggling, screaming into his pillow every time he remembered you saying "Gojo - san!" in your sweet voice.

Suguru grimaced at the sight, absolutely flabbergasted. Looking from you, to Satoru, then you, then Satoru, then Shoko, who gave him a knowing smirk. Discreetly kicking his foot under the table.

He had wasted no time to question Satoru after class, sitting on the chair in his dorm room, while Satoru lied on his bed.

"Do you like her?" Suguru repeated, already knowing the answer.

"Does it matter?" Satoru muttered, voice soft in a way Suguru had never heard it.

Where was the cocky boy who acted as if he could do no wrong? The overly confident jerk that knew full well how attractive he was? The boy who wouldn't hesitate to use his charms on strangers and shamelessly brag of how amazing he was?

Suguru had never seen Satoru so... vulnerable. So downtrodden. So raw and almost innocent in tone. His voice soft and light and so full of emotions and-

It clicks for Suguru. It's a little more than like. Maybe a lot more. And Satoru will never admit it but he's scared. He can see it on his face in the way his eyes droop, how his lips pull into a straight line, and how he fiddles with his fingers. Suguru's eyes widen when he sees what he's fiddling with.

It's a ring. Your ring. The one you always had on your right ring finger, the one he knows you couldn't have given to Satoru without a fuss or a fight but he also knows that Satoru wouldn't let you keep everything that's yours to yourself. That's just how he is. Taking your things to feel close to you.

It's a little pathetic. Imagining how the cold steel would feel against his skin if his fingers were intertwined with yours. How your gentle hands would feel in his rough ones.

But it's just as endearing. And a little funny, seeing his self-centered friend completely consumed by thoughts of another being.

"Of course, it matters." Suguru states, so sure of his words Satoru almost begins to believe them.

But it isn't until now, 12 years later, under the first snow that Satoru truly believes them. It does matter because you matter.

His heart moves before his body does, but when it catches up, he finds himself running to you. And in a split second, he's in front of you. He's imagined this moment so many times, going over the words in his head, letting them linger on his tongue every second of the past 1w years yet when he finally faces you, he's at a loss.

His mind is blank, his heart is on his sleeve, and he feels like a child. Taking in the sight of you with a lump forming in his throat.

"Gojo - san-" You begin, tears welling in your eyes, but before you can continue, you find yourself wrapped in a strong embrace.

"Satoru." He corrects, holding you against his chest, really feeling the weight of you against him.

"Sa - to - ru?" You sound out the syllables softly, and he swears his name has never sounded so good. So sweet. Like something precious.

"Yeah. It's been a while." His words are casual, almost awkward, but there's a weight in them. He pulls away to meet your gaze, eyes widening when he notices the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" His hands find your cheeks, cupping them gently in his grasp. And for once, he feels as if his hands are as strong as everyone thinks because right now he's holding his entire world in them.

He's imagined this thousands of times, but you've never cried in his mind, and he's left unsure. What happened? Are you upset with him for letting you die? For leaving you with Suguru that day? For not protecting you?

He's fully prepared to brace the words he feels will pierce through him like a dagger. To accept any harsh words, cruel punishments, absolutely anything as long as you don't hate him. That's one thing he can not accept. Not when he's finally gotten you back.

"You're an idiot! How could you?" Your voice cracks, and you sniffle.

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, that day I shouldn't have-" Satoru begins to explain, holding you gently.

"You were- you shouldn't be here! You're so young, Satoru, you should- you should still be alive!" You scold, hands reaching up to hold his face, pulling him down to your level.

That was the last thing Satoru expected.

"Are you alright?" Your voice drops, soft and low, as you look over his features carefully like a mother checking over her child.

"Fine." He breathes out, absolutely breathless as he realised you're crying for him. Mourning the life he never got to experience instead of your own.

God. He loved you.

"You fought well, Satoru. I'm proud of you. You can rest now." You whisper earnestly, sniffling as you watch his face for any discomfort.

Suddenly, you're knocked off your feet, a yelp leaving your lips as you find yourself landing in the snow, a heavy weight pinning you down.

"Satoru, what-"

You freeze, his large form heavy on your chest, face buried into the crook of your neck. But what catches your attention are the tears dripping onto your skin as Satoru clutches you like a lifeline, your hands responding before your brain does and immediately wrapping around him tightly.

How long had he yearned for those words? Being the strongest meant expectations and contempt. Rarely ever appreciation because the duty of the strong was inherent. Protect the weak and expect nothing in return.

Nothing.

No one remembered his victories, but everyone remembered his faults.

The celebration of his death would surely be larger than the celebration of his life.

Yet in mere seconds, you made him feel as if 28 years of suffering was worth it. Every cut, bruise, scar to his body. The exhaustion in his bones. The weariness of his soul. If it all led to this moment in your arms, it was worth it, and he'd do it all again and again and again if it meant you'd be waiting at the end of it.

"I love you." He says, voice shaky as he holds onto you, choking back a sob.

You freeze in surprise, feeling your skin heat up, eyes wide as you stare at the sky. "Go- Satoru, what are you-" You're suddenly pulled to your feet, stumbling into his chest as his eyes earnestly meet yours, cheeks tear stained and flushed.

"I've held this in for 12 years and regretted it every second for not telling you. I love you, Y/n. I love your clumsiness, how earnest you are, how caring you are. Everything you hate about yourself too, your weakness, how fragile your body is, how easily you cry. I fell in love with all of it but was too much of an idiot to realise it." Satoru begins, making sure you're listening to every word he's saying.

"Satoru, wait-" You try, still in shock as he shakes his head. He holds up his right hand, and your jaw drops when you see what's on his ring finger.

"Is that?" You inhale sharply, trying to come to terms with this.

"Your ring. I still have it. And you're still wearing my scarf." He points out.

"Satoru, wait. Ca- calm down. You're thinking too hard- not thinking enough? I don't know, but this is so sudden-" You stumble over your words, heart racing in your chest.

"After 12 years of waiting, how is it sudden?" He asks, gently holding your hands in his.

Big hands. Big heart. An existence that quenches the thirst of your soul.

"You- are you serious right now? Do you really, li- like-" You manage before he cuts you off.

"Like? No. I love you." He grins, finally. Brightly, beautifully. As if you're watching the sun smile at the moon, the waves caress the shores. A sort of clumsy picturesque view any respectable photographer would kill for.

"Lo- love?"

"Love. You. Everything about you." He repeats earnestly.

You pause when he leans in, face scarlet in embarrassment as you flinch back, half expecting his lips to meet yours far too quickly. His hands gently cupping your face.

You panic, squeezing your eyes shut as he leans in only to hear a soft chuckle, and feel his fingers poke between your furrowed brows.

"What's that look for, hm? You like me too." He states proudly, playful lilt ever present but something more masked beneath.

"Wuh-" You're at a loss. Absolutely speechless.

"Come on. Admit it." He laughs.

You hesitate. Perhaps you'd long fooled yourself into thinking he was only a precious friend. Repeating the words at the back of your mind. Drilling them into your brain. Friend. Friend. A friend. You liked him as a friend.

Suddenly, Shoko's words ring in your head.

It's the spring of 2006, cicadas chirping outside, cool sodas on the table as you sat across from Shoko in your dorm.

"You're telling me... you get butterflies when you see him, your face gets hot when he smiles, you want to be with him every day, you stumble over your words around him, and you think this is cause you're sick?" Shoko loves you. You're the cutest thing she's never seen. You're so sweet. You're like a younger sister, or perhaps a pet puppy, or- something like that. But for goodness sake. You couldn't possibly be serious right now.

You nod earnestly, brows furrowed in concern. "What's the diagnosis, Doctor Ieiri?" You blurt, barely hiding your nervousness.

Shoko plays along, scribbling on the back of a lotto receipt with a dull pencil, biting down on her lollipop. "Here. Your diagnosis." She slides it across the table to you.

You gulp, hesitantly turning over the piece of paper. Scanning it with wide eyes.

"This- this can't be! Surely the diagnosis is wrong, Doctor! I- there's no way!" You panic.

Shoko deadpans. You're acting like she legitimately diagnosed you with something serious.

She leans over, and circles the two words she's written.

Stupidity. And, love.

"...I do." You blurt without thinking, eyes hesitantly meeting Satoru's 12 years too late. Or perhaps just in time.

"I love you. I have for a very long time as well." You admit breathlessly, tears welling in your eyes as the floodgates that had been holding back 12 years' worth of love burst open.

Satoru hadn't expected you to admit it so easily, so earnestly. He can't help the way his eyes gloss over and how his heart stutters. The prettiest smile on his face.

"Yeah? I know." He manages cheekily, but there's no hiding the raw emotion in his gaze.

"I'm sorry I left so early." You sniffle, pushing onto your tippy toes to press your forehead against his.

"I'm sorry I made you wait so long." He mutters, lips finding the trail of tears in hopes of kissing away your heartache as he'd dreamed of so many times ago.

"But I'm here now. Sorry I'm late. I'm finally home." His hands cup your cheeks, nose pressing against yours.

"Welcome home, Satoru."

Perhaps the cruel Gods that Satoru never really believed in had finally had mercy on him. Who was he kidding? The Gods had long forsaken him, but you?

Surely even they couldn't deny you.

If Satoru could go back in time, he'd tell his highschool self 3 things.

Number 1. Beat up the higher ups at least once.

Number 2. Take more pictures with the people you love.

And Number 3. Don't worry. At the end, don't be sad. Because you'll finally come home.

[sunoorintarou]

i'm sorry if i'm spam liking your posts, catharsis is just so good!!! 😫😫 i cant wait for more context from you

Omg don't worry at all!!! The spam likes make me all the more eager to post 🤭 Catharsis is very plot heavy, so I'm glad you're enjoying it!! 😭🥺

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Christmas Special

Phos!Reader x Teen!Gojo Satoru and Teen!Geto Suguru

Warnings: Gojo - centric, usual angst, fluff if you squint, major character death, dead bodies, set in 2006, lots of talks of politics, death, murder, trauma, morals, etc, borderline bullying? (Satoru is a jerk), self - blaming, grief, and all it's stages, trouble processing and understanding emotions, Gojo is seriously just his own warning

Notes: Merry Christmas!!!

"You're weak. Why do you bother being a sorceror?"

Satoru's words make you freeze, eyes widening at their bluntness. He doesn't react, however, because in his mind, he's simply telling you the truth.

You're weak. He's known that from the moment you set foot in this classroom almost three months ago.

He doesn't understand why Suguru and Shoko seem so fond of you. All you do is get into trouble, injure yourself, and make it everyone's problem to save you. You can't fight, your Cursed Technique is subpar, not to mention that you're annoying.

Stepping into battle like some sort of self-righteous hero knowing full well that if a curse so much as touches you, you'll crumble. Literally. That's another thing he finds annoying about you. How easily your skin chips and cracks like porcelain revealing an ocean of Phosphophyllite underneath.

You can't lift anything heavy, you can't fight, you can't help out without injuring yourself, you're clumsy, you're annoying, and the list could go on.

What he finds the most annoying about you, however, is your soft voice going, "Gojo - san, are you alright? You look tired", "Gojo - san, you should rest, you don't need to use your technique so often", "Gojo - san, you haven't eaten yet, so I brought you this, I hope you don't mind".

Gojo - san this, Gojo - san that, God. You drive him crazy. How do you manage to see through every front he puts up? Every act? Even Shoko and Suguru can't see through it, and yet you have the audacity to call him out.

You're a liability in battle, and you're practically useless, more like the team's overglorified mascot. So, for the life of him, Satoru doesn't understand why everyone likes you so much. Even Nanami, his grouchy underclassman, doesn't seem to mind you.

What annoys Satoru the most, however, is the tug his heart feels when he looks at you. Because no matter how he tries to deny it, you're growing on him like a parasite, and a part of him wishes he was as close to you as they were.

"I am weak." You agree, seemingly taking no offence to Satoru's question. It's just you and him in the classroom. You're standing at your desk, bag still in hand, and he's sitting a desk, two desks behind yours. Shoko and Suguru are still on their way, and he's taken this opportunity to ask you what he's been dying to.

Satoru's eyes widen at your response.

"If you know you're weak, why do you try so hard? It's kind of pathetic, you know." His brows furrow, glasses sliding down his nose bridge as he tilts his head.

"I- because, I'm selfish, I guess." You say softly.

There it is again. That annoying soft tone of voice that makes his chest hurt whenever he hears it.

"I know I'm weak, but I want to keep trying. I want to fight. One day, I want to be able to repay everyone for everything they've done for me. Yaga - sensei, Shoko, Suguru, Ken, Yuu. Even you, Gojo - san. I want you to be able to rely on me. I want to be able to protect innocent people like you guys do. So I hope you can bear with me for a little more, Gojo - san. I'm sorry for being such a burden, but I promise I'll pay you back." You say earnestly, looking Gojo in the eye.

Satoru's eyes widen, and he's silent for a moment. Before he bursts out laughing.

You suddenly feel embarrassed. You were being serious and heartfelt, and all Gojo does in response is laugh.

"What's with that? Did you quote that from an anime?" He cackles, hitting the desk with one hand and holding his stomach with the other.

"I- I did not! I was being honest!" You defend, feeling the heat tinting your cheeks.

"If- if you really want to repay me, buy me something sweet from the vending machine." Satoru stutters between fits of giggles.

"OK, I'm on it." You nod, turning on your tail to leave the class. A hand grabs your shoulder, stopping you.

"Where are you going?" Satoru asks, leaning down to look you in the eye.

"The vending machine?" You reply, brows furrowed in confusion.

"You're going now?"

"Yeah? I'll be back really quickly."

Satoru scoffs, but there's a smile on his face nonetheless.

"Really? I'll time you then. You have 5 minutes." He challenges, smirking as he tilts his head at you.

"5- 5 minutes?" You stutter, eyes wide. The vending machine was on the other side of the school. There's no way you'd make it back in 5 minutes.

"Yeah. The clock is ticking. Didn't you say you'd pay me for saving your butt all those times?" He mocks.

Satoru's eyes widen as you put down your bag, determination clear on your face.

"I did. I might not be back in 5 minutes, but I'll be back in less than 10!"

"Hey, wait-"

And with that, you've rushed out the classroom, leaving Satoru absolutely bewildered. As he sticks his head out the door, watching you run and almost slip multiple times, Satoru thinks he's figured it out. He understands why Shoko and Suguru keep you around.

You're amusing. And he wants to get closer to you.

Unfortunately, things never go as planned. And if Satoru had known the outcome before, he would have tried to get to know you much sooner.

Things change quickly when you're a Jujutsu Sorceror. People come and go, live, and die. They change, they evolve. People grow apart, and people grow closer.

Regardless, it's not a pleasant feeling when you lose someone close to you. 

Gojo Satoru had never thought the day would come when he'd feel regret. He was the strongest, after all. Everything he wanted he got. The world was his oyster. Money, power, good looks, everything. So it's safe to say that loss was also a new concept to him.

A feeling he decided he'd prefer to live without.

It hurt in a way he couldn't explain. He felt as if he couldn't breathe, as if there were something heavy on his chest. Almost as if he were having an out of body experience but could feel whatever the stranger he saw when he looked in the mirror felt. Pain. Anger. Despair.

Cold and light. That's how your body felt in his arms. He couldn't bear to look at the white cloth covering it. This, this couldn't be you. This body in his arms, the broken shards of its head cutting into the cloth.

Yet it was still vivid. Amanai Riko running out and finding him, letting him know that you had died saving her. A bullet straight to the head. Pushing her into Suguru's arms and telling him to run with your last breath. Riko's tear filled face as she begged for him to help Suguru because she couldn't bear to have anyone else die because of her.

Since then, he's felt numb. It hasn't faded. The coldness in his skin, the haze of his reality, brain clouded as it was forced to process the events that had taken place.

"Suguru... should we kill them all? I probably wouldn't feel anything right now."

Did he say something? The words don't register in his mind. Was that his voice? Raw and soft.

Them. The higher-ups. If only he had known earlier that they were supportive of your death. That there was a bounty for your head somewhere.

He didn't know why. He didn't know anything. You had kept so much to yourself. Just what were you dealing with alone? All this time, smiling wide, eyes always sparkling, hiding everything behind your carefree, happy - go - lucky persona.

You didn't deserve this. You of all people. You weren't weak. You were sweet, kind, caring, and selfless to a fault.

This was not you. Lifeless in his arms. You were never this cold.

He remembered it, how warm your hands were all those time your fingers brushed his forehead to check if he was well, when your fingers brushed his whenever you handed him something, how warm they were when you held his face in your hands and scolded him for being reckless. He remembered it vividly.

What would you say if you saw him now? The exhaustion in his face, the blankness in his eyes, the way his- his hands were... trembling?

He could hear your voice, clear as day.

"Gojo - san! What happened to you!"

"You should really take care of yourself more, what were you thinking?"

"I don't care if you're one of the strongest! You're a teenager. Right now, you're just Satoru, and you're going to learn to be kinder to yourself. You- you don't deserve this."

What did Satoru deserve? Was it really kindness? Care? Gentleness? Love? He had messed up. If he had been stronger, he could have saved you. If he had been stronger, you wouldn't be dead in his arms.

What was the point of awakening his powers when they weren't there when it mattered? What was the point of being the strongest if he couldn't protect the people he cared about? The people he loved?

What made matters worse was finding out the higher-ups were happy you were gone. The people that had singlehandedly been the cause for his suffering. His. Suguru's. Shoko's. Yours. Those filthy old bags who only thought of themselves.

What would really happened if he killed them all? Would it really be such a bad thing? Weren't they supposed to be the pillars of the Jujutsu world? The elders for people to look up to and learn from. A symbol of hope, something, anything even remotely positive, beneficial to the future of the young next generation of Jujutsu Sorcerors?

All they had done was applaud the death of someone innocent. A teenager. A child. How dare these self-righteous ba-

Your hand falls from the covers of the white sheet, hanging limply.

Satoru's brain goes blank. A pale arm, an empty hand, and familiar phosphophyllite fingernails.

"No need. It's meaningless." Suguru's voice is low, as if the reality that you're gone hasn't hit him yet. His eyes linger on your hand. The palm that patted his back, the fingers that ran through his hair, the hand that was so warm in his.

Before he can stop himself, he finds his own hand grasping it. It's cold. He drops it like the contact physically hurt him.

"Without the higher-ups, the Jujutsu world will go up in flames. And even if they die, there's the possibility even worse people will come into power. Killing them won't bring her back either."

His words don't make sense, even to him, but Suguru utters them nonetheless. The look in Satoru's eye is enough to tell him that if he doesn't do anything, today will mark the beginning of a massacre. And although he feels the same anger Satoru does, Suguru's moral compass, as well as his understanding of the type of person you are... stops him.

"Meaning... huh?" Satoru repeats.

The Satoru in front of him is not the Satoru Suguru knows. The playful, snarky, overburdened boy replaced by something else. Something unfamiliar. Something... cold.

"Do we need that?"

Suguru hesitates for a split second. The girl in Satoru's arms is just as unfamiliar. A bubbly, bright, kind girl replaced by something else. Something unfamiliar. Something... almost sinful. A shell. An empty shell. The existence it harboured long gone. A disgrace to the being it had once been.

"Yeah. It's very important... for sorcerors."

Your corpse wouldn't decompose. The crystallisation forming a perfect seal to your body, and perhaps that's why they can't bring themselves to immediately bury you.

Clinging onto the false hope that perhaps you'd wake up, bounce back like always. Familiar head of teal hair poking over Suguru's shoulder, a second softer set of footsteps padding behind Satoru's, a warm hand flinching at the touch of Shoko's cold ones.

It's sickening. How quiet everything has become in your absence. How the shadows seem darker due to the absence of your light.

Perhaps you wouldn't know it, but your death was beneficial in a way. Suguru spiralled into depression but your words of the past kept him strong, and somehow, he managed to graduate with Satoru and Shoko.

They left an empty seat between them at graduation. Your certificate is still in Shoko's office to this day.

Your warnings and nagging that reminded everyone of their mother saved Haibara's life. You had always told them to never accept missions alone, and it was thanks to your words ringing in his head that Nanami became paranoid while Haibara was out on a mission. This led to him going out to check on Haibara and ended in him saving his life.

It was almost idealistic how almost everyone graduated that year. A rare thing in the Jujutsu World to have so many young people survive.

Satoru jokes its because you took on the unwanted burden and closed the gates of Heaven yourself. You always did. Eating the bitter parts of his food that he didn't like, letting everyone choose first when Yaga gave you rewards, not touching your food until everyone had started eating. You always took on the unpleasantries so that everyone else could live without knowing suffering.

Why did everyone deserve happiness except for you?

Why did everyone deserve to live except for you?

"Gojo - Sensei."

"So even Sensei sleeps, huh?"

"Of course he does. What kind of nonsense is that?"

Satoru's eyelids flutter. He pulls up his blindfold, his vision coming into focus as he sees a blurry image of his students.

For a split moment, he's in high school again. He's in his second year, and he's sleeping before class. He hears soft footsteps approach him. Feels someone lean down near him, but he's not scared. Not even annoyed.

Rather, he plays dumb and waits in anticipation. There's butterflies bursting in his chest, a smile pulling at his face that's hidden in his arms. Smirking at the familiar scent of yuzu and caramel engulfing his senses. He'd chosen it, after all.

"Gojo - san? Wake up, class is about to start."

"Gojo - sensei!"

But when his visions focuses fully, he realises it's been 12 years and his beloved students have visited his office.

"Oh, he's awake!"

There's a red rim to Satoru's eyes, but it's almost unnoticeable. He smiles before pulling his blindfold back down.

"Please don't fall asleep after summoning us all here." Megumi states.

Satoru stands up, and Yuji and Nobara are quick to fight over who gets to sit on his chair.

"What are you smiling about?"

It's today. By 4 that morning, Satoru had found himself sat in front of a familiar grave. He was always the first to visit. He brings a bouquet of white heliotrope and places it on the grave. He crouches in front of it, his blindfold tucked away in his pocket.

"Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy Birthday, dear Y/n. Happy Birthday to you."

If there's one thing Satoru wishes, it's that he was able to tell you his feelings truthfully while you were still alive. It's unhealthy, but he finds himself uttering the same three words on every occasion to a stone in the ground.

If only he could have seen your pretty face while he uttered them in person.

Satoru doesn't know if he believes in the afterlife, but he hopes you're listening. And maybe, just maybe, you're screaming at the top of your lungs, repeating the words in hopes he'd somehow hear.

"It's nothing."

A lie. Because deep down, Satoru knows he's thinking about a certain place, a certain person.

Maybe in his next life, he can finally go home to you.

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Bet on Losing Dogs

Phos!Reader x (Platonic?) Megumi Fushiguro

Warnings: Usual Catharsis Warnings, angst, memory loss, fluff if you squint, very angsty tbh

Notes: A Megumi part to make up for not posting for so long🤝

Megumi felt sick as he wandered through the streets of Tokyo, eyes searching for a person he wasn't sure existed any longer.

When Gojo had broken the news to him, he refused to believe it. You weren't dead. You couldn't be. Not when he felt it, raw in his soul, lingering around him. Your cursed energy, the scent of petrichor, traces flickering throughout the city. Throughout the imprints left on his soul.

Was he simply going crazy? He swore he felt it. In the city, in the park, in your favourite restaurant. Were these traces of his imagination? His memories? His inability to accept loss?

Regardless, he refused to give up. If there was even a slight chance you were alive, he refused to let it go.

Once again, he found himself following a trail you once took. He had been doing this for weeks. Looking for something, anything, any sign you were still alive.

Any possibility your face would appear between the blurred faces of the crowd. A familiar word in a foreign language. A sense of Deja Vu in an unfamiliar place.

Megumi held onto the traces of you as tightly as the red string that had bound him to you. Fingers trembling as he followed the cord, hoping it would lead him to the one person he truly couldn't afford to lose.

Suddenly, he froze. There it was again. Your Cursed Energy, appearing near him. His eyes widened, turning around frantically before he began to run, feeling it get stronger and stronger.

His eyes landed on a familiar hooded figure, form trembling as his eyes glazed over. This was you. It had to be you.

Megumi reached your figure in no time, hand finding your shoulder.

"Y/n!" He called, noticing your figure hesitate at the name.

Then, you turned, and he wondered if his mind was betraying him when he was met with dark blue eyes rather than the teal ones he was accustomed to.

But Megumi couldn't help but entertain the possibility, desperate for even a sliver of hope, a one in a million possibility that this was you.

"Y/n?" He asked, eyes swirling with hope.

This was you. It had to be you. As much as his eyes said it wasn't you, his mind calling him crazy. His heart screamed that this was you. And for once, he listened to your advice and listened to the weakest part of his being.

"Who... who are you?" You asked, voice low, eyes wide as you took in the boy before you.

Megumi's heart sank into the abyss he had been fighting against so dearly.

That was your voice, the same soft tone and carefully annunciated words he could recognise even in his sleep. Yet your words seemed to knock the light out of his eyes.

"Y/n- Y/n, it's me, Megumi." He practically pleaded, trying to stay as calm as he could. Only you could make Megumi act like this. His nonchalant demeanour crumbled around the edges, emotion raw in his voice.

"Megumi? I- I don't remember you."

Megumi felt a part of his soul crumble away, sand slipping through his fingers.

"I know you. Your face, I mean. I see you in my dreams. I hear your voice. But for some reason, I just can't clearly remember you." You admitted, lips trembling as you now sat on the swing in the playground.

This dark-haired boy, Megumi, he had called himself, was the very same boy who had been haunting your dreams. Someone who was once important to you, you assumed.

You didn't know how or why, but you felt warm around him. An effect many people who claimed to know you didn't have.

Just who was he? You remembered him vaguely, his voice, so soft and gentle, his smile, his scent. As far as you could remember, you had gone to Jujutsu Tech together. But the more you tried to remember, the worse your headache got, mind going into overdrive.

You didn't know why, but you felt as if you could trust him. You knew everyone from the stories he had told you, after all. Gojo Sensei, Nobara, Yuji. Yet his name was the only unfamiliar one. An unfamiliar word in your native language.

Despite this, something about him felt important. Precious to you, almost. Especially with how you unconsciously relaxed around him, something in you arguing that no matter what, you'd be safe around him.

"You dream about me?" Megumi's voice is low and wrenched with pain, fingers shaking as he fights every urge in his body to do something he'd regret. He wants to hold you, to gently stroke your hair and apologise for everything, for letting you get hurt, for not protecting you, for not being there for you, for being a coward, for hesitating, for letting you leave.

After all, it's his fault you forgot him.

But Megumi knows it's far too late for any of that and convinces himself to be satisfied with what you have now. Just you being alive is enough for him.

Or so he tried to convince himself.

"Yeah, all the time. It's odd, I think they might be past memories. But no matter how hard I try, I can't remember them clearly." You sighed, shaking your head gently, fingers twisting into the strands of your dark blue hair.

You noticed Megumi's gaze on you, a wry smile spreading across your face.

"We're matching now." You gesture to his eyes and to yours. The only difference being that yours were a more vibrant shade while his reminded you of the very depths of the ocean, the ocean you remembered being so ready to drown in.

"Yours are still my favourite, though."

Megumi's eyes glazed over at your words.

"Ah, sorry, I- I remember bits and pieces. And your eyes- I remember loving your eyes. They were like, one of my favourite things. I can't really, remember a lot, clearly though. Not even about myself." You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck, gaze directing to the floor.

"You like banana milk and Zaru Soba. You also like sea creatures. Especially whales. You also like nerunerunerune and Ghibli movies." Megumi stated thoughtlessly, gaze directed at the floor when yours was finally directed at him.

"I- I do?" You asked, eyes shining. Megumi seemed to know a lot about you. Your lips trembled, eyes wide as you leaned toward him. Megumi was your only hope.

"Yeah. You like colorful things, sweet things, nature. You used to visit the aquariums alot." Megumi couldn't stop the words from leaving his mouth, mind reminiscing all the times you'd dragged either just him or your entire team out to different aquariums. Determined to visit every single one in Japan.

"Can you take me there?"

Megumi's eyes widened when your hands found his, holding them between yours, hopefully.

"I- I know this is sudden, and this must be painful for you to some degree, but I- I want to remember! I want to remember everything, the things I did, the things I like, the people I know... I want to remember you! You're my only hope, so if it isn't too much to ask, can you tell me everything? Can you take me everywhere we used to go? You're the only person I can trust with this. So please."

Your hands are trembling, eyes glazing over.

This is a bad idea. A God awful idea that would lead to only bad things. Especially if anyone found out.

How would Megumi explain it if he were caught? That you weren't dead, that you'd lost your memory, that he was helping you regain it, what if he had to interact with curses? With the so called, bad guys who had killed so many innocent people? The same people who had saved you.

This went against his morals in so many ways, against everything he'd been taught, everything he'd known.

But when you looked at him like that, Megumi could never say no to you. Even though he knew this would hurt him more than anyone else in the end.

After all, what would happen when you did finally regain your memories? Would you leave him? Again? Would he be forced to tell the truth to everyone? How would Itadori and Kugisaki react? How would Gojo - Sensei react?

God, Megumi was selfish. So selfish. He knew this was wrong, so wrong, but with you, everything felt right.

So as he looked into your eyes, calloused yet gentle fingers moving to brush stray tears off your cheeks, he swore to himself that he'd keep you like an oath.

Unfair as it was, from this moment on, it was you and Megumi against the world, and to him, nothing mattered except that.

A Higher Being had given him a second chance, and Megumi was only human. Who was he not to take it?

This time, however, he swore he'd protect you. Even if it meant your arms were his final resting place, he knew he'd die a worthy death.

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Vivid

Phos!Reader x (Platonic) Nobara Kugisaki

Warnings: Regret, self blaming, general angst, usual Catharsis warnings

Notes: this was supposed to be smthn cute with Phos and Nobara but ig things happen💀

Nobara's eyes were trained on the bottle of nail polish on her desk. A bottle of dark blue.

She picked up the nail polish, beginning to paint her nails. Unwanted memories began to cloud her vision, memories she could never forget no matter how hard she tried. Memories of you.

"But I don't like nail polish. It smells weird." You had frowned, shaking your head.

It was late at night, and you and Nobara had decided to have a sleepover in her room, gossiping and giggling the entire night thus far.

You had offhandedly mentioned your inexperience with many things, like makeup and nail polish, immediately causing Nobara to want to change that.

"I picked this colour out just for you, though." Nobara pouted, holding a bottle of dark blue polish. The colour perfectly contrasting the bright red she usually wore.

You saw the hope in her eyes, will going weak before nodding, holding your hand out to her.

Nobara immediately perked up, smiling brightly as she began painting your nails.

"There, there! Look how pretty!" She smiled, showing you your perfectly painted and manicured nails.

You glanced from them to her bright face, smiling softly. "Yeah, I guess they're not all that bad."

"Let's take a picture, they look pretty together!"

Nobara paused, setting the bottle of blue nail polish down, watching as it dried.

After that, it was tradition for you to come back to her whenever they chipped or peeled for her to redo them, letting her experiment with different styles and shapes.

Almond shaped with plain deep blue nail polish was your favourite, and she had agreed they suited you the best.

Nobara paused, eyes widening as she looked at her own nails. Almond shaped with deep blue nail polish. A stark contrast to her usual square shaped with shiny red polish and occasional gold designs.

She stood up, walking to her cupboard as she opened it, grabbing her signature bottle of red nail polish. The last time she had gotten one was more than a month ago. She remembered the day vividly. You had chosen that one for her, after all.

The bottle was still full.

She looked over at the blue polish, realising it was the one you had always worn. Her eyes went wide.

It was half empty.

Nobara sighed, putting the red nail polish away and going back to her chair, bringing her knees up to meet her chest as she examined her nails.

She wondered if you were still wearing the same nail polish. Whether you still wore the same perfume she had picked out for you. If you thought of her when you felt sad on those long nights after longer days.

If you remember how she'd stayed in your room with you, holding you close as you cried in her arms. Remember how you'd spilled the beginnings of your true feelings to her and made her swear she'd never tell anyone.

Perhaps if she'd been faster, if she'd questioned you more, if she'd spent more time with you, spoke with you more, held you more. Perhaps you'd still be with her.

After that night, however, she began to doubt. Not you, but herself.

Just how much did she really know about you?

She knew your name, your age, that you liked banana milk, that your favourite Sanrio character was Cinamoroll. She knew you liked sleeping and loved your friends. But that was just material, physical.

Your family, your friends, your life before you came here, your goals, your dreams, your passions, your hobbies. Did you ever have pets? Have you ever had a boyfriend? Did you even want a boyfriend? Marriage? Kids? A family?

Your childhood, where you were from, hell, Nobara didn't even know your surname.

Did she ever, for a moment, really know you?

Were your smiles real? Your laughter? The way you felt about everyone was genuine. That was something she didn't doubt for a second. The way you cared about everyone, making sure no one got left behind, making sure no one ever felt alone.

How was it that you were the one that got left behind first? The one who felt the most alone?

How long had the storm in you brewed til you could no longer ignore it?

Just what had happened? Was it Yukio? Just Yukio? Something told her it was more than that. So what was it?

What was so horrible and twisted, settling under your skin, making it itch and crawl, causing you to scratch at it, scarring your skin, causing you to destroy yourself?

Nobara sighed. Asking herself these questions wouldn't bring you back. No what if or should have would.

Instead, all she could do was lament and pray that in another life, she'd never let you leave. In this life, however, she swore she'd find you and try to atone for her sins. If nothing else, she just wanted you to be happy, even if it was without her.

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Incandescent Grace

Phos!Reader x (Platonic) Gojo Satoru

Warnings: Child abuse, domestic abuse, toxic familial relationships, blood, gore, death, self blaming, depression, manipulation, suicidal ideation, the usual Catharsis warnings

Notes: Alexa play Beautiful Boy by John Lennon

It had happened so fast. A second ago, you were narrowly dodging a glass plate being launched at your head. Your father had had a bad day at work. A common occurrence.

To make things worse, he and your mother were in the middle of an argument. You had been tiptoeing across a rope suspended over a blazing fire. It was only natural it would snap from the heat.

Your fingers were trembling, heart racing as your father neared you, screaming about how this was your fault. Everything was your fault. But this time, he was taking it a bit far, grabbing a shard of the broken plate and nearing you.

You were scared. Terrified.

Why you?

The question rang in your head.

What did you do to deserve this?

Everything around you sounded muffled, as if you were underwater. Vision blurry with tears as your father only got closer. Muscles tensed as you braced yourself for the pain.

You didn't deserve this.

You didn't deserve any of this.

The pain, the hurt, the tears, the fear. Everything. It was all because of these people.

Your parents. The people that were supposed to protect you. To love you. Your mothers words rang in your head.

"We do this because we love you."

Was this... love? How would you define it? Was love the feeling of your father's belt against your skin? The feeling of your mother's nails digging into your arms? Was it the way they'd lock you away for days as punishment before pulling you out. Holding and telling you how much they loved you. How they only did it because they cared. Because they wanted the best for you.

If this was love, you didn't want it. You didn't want them.

You had seen children walking around with her parents. Smiling so brightly, giggling as their parents played with them, held them, cared for them, comforted them when they cried.

You used to sit in the park for hours. Watching them. Wondering if your parents would love you like that if you acted more like those children.

You remembered how hard you tried. The flowers, the letters, all ending up dead, in pieces, all over their floor. Your mother calling them useless, frail things. She didn't need them. She didn't need you. Neither did your father. They were being kind, taking care of you. Or so they claimed.

Everything they did. They said it was to make you stronger. But you were a child. You didn't need to become stronger. You needed to be safe.

You remembered watching a cartoon when you were younger.

You remembered seeing a child held hostage by the bad guys. You remembered how the child was saved by a hero, a man shrouded in light. And that gave you hope. Maybe someone could save you too.

A hero. A saviour. Someone big and strong. Someone who's very existence would let you know everything would be OK. That you'd be OK.

And so, as your father neared, you prayed. You remembered a blurry face, a teacher at your preschool. God always answered the prayers of good kids. Or so she claimed.

For once in your life, you prayed for a miracle. For someone, anyone, something, anything.

Your mind wandered back to the hero in that cartoon. An angel may be too much, but you hoped a hero wasn't. He didn't have to be big or strong. He just had to be able to help you. You didn't mind anything. Anyone. As long as someone saved you from this.

What you hadn't realised was that your prayer would be answered in the worst way.

In a split second, everything changed.

Suddenly, there was blood on your face, and you were met with your father's head rolling across the floor, landing at your feet.

There it was. The monster under your bed. The one your parents refused to believe existed. The one that had caused their fight and would now seemingly cause their demise.

You had never seen it whole before. Used to the murky, spiderlike arms, clawed fingers, and sets of red eyes. But this, this beast, this demon, whatever it was, could only be described as your worst nightmare come true.

You were frozen in time. Sick to your stomach, but numb. Feeling everything and nothing at the same time.

You could only watch as your mother tried to fight off the monster, her screams deafening, eyes wide in terror.

It was then that something clicked. The monster under your bed had 4 eyes. But this one had 2. So where were the other 2?

Your heart dropped, watching as a large clawed hand ripped through your mother's torso. There they were. The second set of eyes. There were two monsters.

You could only watch as the monsters began to devour your parents' bodies, blood soaking your carpet, seeping across the wooden floors until it reached you. You then realised that this was it. You would die right here right now. This was where it would all end. This was the deliverance you had hoped for so many times.

You didn't fight when one of the monsters came to you, fingers brushing your arms, your back against the wall. All you could do was pray it wouldn't be too painful.

As its claws dug into your legs, you were reminded of your father. When you were still young. When he used to read your bedtime stories and hold you and sing to you. Perhaps that was also a form of love?

You wondered what had changed. Was it you? Was it him? Was it simply chance? Bad luck? Just what had happened?

You couldn't fight the tears. Mourning not only the life you lived but the life you'd now lose. How pathetic were you? Despite everything, you still didn't want to die.

You wanted to live.

It was then that an unfamiliar feeling overwhelmed your body, a faint feeling of warmth enveloping you, a faint teal glow. It surrounded your hand that had lied on the beast's head, pushing it away futilely.

With a great scream, your ears ringing in pain at the noise, where the beast once was, laid a large chunk of Phosphophyllite.

Your heart stopped. Were your eyes deceiving you? Was this some sort of entrance right to the afterlife?

The other beast seemed as startled as you, moving away in what you assumed to be fear. You reached out, hand lying on the chunk of stone. Had you done this? Was this you? Just what was this?

Suddenly, the gem glowed and your were filled with a cold so great, almost freezing and a pain so sharp, you couldn't breathe.

You screamed, blooding pouring from your lips, your nostrils, your ears, your eyes, writhing in agony on the floor.

You felt like a thousand knives were dissecting every nerve in your body. A chill so cold it burned overtaking you.

Please please please. Someone, anyone, help me. It hurts, it hurts so bad. Please make it go away. Please please please.

You were barely conscious, eyes half closed as you tried to fight the pain away.

Suddenly, you were enveloped by a white glow. Something seemingly defeating the other monster.

You felt a pair of hands scoop you up, large, strong, warm. So warm. So bright.

A voice. Soft, low, kind. Tears began to fall from your eyes.

"You'll be OK. Just focus on breathing."

You blinked rapidly, attempting to focus on it. You took deep breaths, the warmth of whoever was holding you slowly making the pain go away.

You inhaled deeply, the pain dulling to a sting under your skin. You felt warm, so warm. The kind of warmth you hadn't felt in years.

Your vision began to clear momentarily, and you were met with your hero. Your saviour.

Blue eyes, beautiful, sparkling, like the sky. When was the last time you had seen the sky?

White hair, bright and clean, like pure snow. When was the last time you had been outside?

Strong hands, gentle hands, cradling you against a hard chest, voice ridden with concern and comfort.

An angel. This had to be an angel. This man, whoever he was, had to be the deliverance you had been praying so hard for.

You fought to keep your eyes open, blinking up at the man as you began to sob.

"It's all over. You're safe now. Don't worry. It's OK, you're OK."

Something in you couldn't help but believe this stranger's words as they echoed in your head. You felt that as long as you were with him, everything would be OK. You'd be OK.

On that fateful fight when you thought you'd lost everything, you had found something you had long stopped searching for.

Salvation.

That unknown man was a symbol of peace, of safety, your second chance sent by a deity. A dove landing on the ark you had been stranded on.

As your vision faded, fatigue overcoming your being, something in you knew, as long as you had him, you'd be fine.

After all, he was your saviour. And unbeknownst to you, that night as he carried you to safety, he had sworn to never let anything like that happen to you ever again.

You were a child after all, and he vowed to keep you safe.

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Wasting Borrowed Time

Phos!Reader x (Platonic?) Megumi Fushiguro

Warnings: very heavy, very angsty, mentions Yukio's death, self blaming, self hatred, self harm, guilt, physical and mental illness, eating disorders, injuries and blood, suicidal ideation, depression, trauma, it's just alot, and the usual Catharsis tags

Notes: I want to say the next part will be fluffy but 😬

"Y/n? Have you been eating alright?" Megumi's voice was low and full of concern, travelling across the yard to reach you. His tone was even and polite, but he was thankful you couldn't see the desperation and concern on his face.

It was late at night. You were on the field, barely illuminated by the moonlight, while Megumi stood under the light of the corridor.

There were at least 5 feet between you, your back turned as you held your sword in your hand, body weak from training as you tried to hide its trembling.

"Yeah, why?" You answered, voice as calm as you could make it. You were glad he couldn't see the pained expression on your face, muscles screaming for mercy, the burn in your limbs making you want to cry out.

"Just making sure, that's all."

Everything went silent.

Recently, a distance had appeared between you and Megumi. A physical and emotional distance. A distance whose gap you weren't willing to close.

Megumi rarely saw you anymore. You were either always training or taking on missions alone. Rarely in class, disappearing for days at a time. And although he wasn't the only one who noticed, he was the only one who was truly concerned.

The others thought that with time, you'd be fine, yet Megumi knew you better than he knew himself, and the dullness in your eyes had him on edge.

"Would you... are... are you OK?" Megumi's voice was soft and full of concern. Your heart wrenched, eyes glazing over.

"It's been a while since you've eaten lunch with me. I'm just surprised. The vending machines have a surplus of banana milk now." Megumi joked, half - heartedly. Although he would never admit it, Megumi missed you more than anyone.

"That's concerning. Are you, by any chance, feeling unwell, or is something on your mind? We don't have classes tomorrow, so..." Megumi mentally punched himself. Why was he being so... awkward?

All he wanted to do was comfort you, rush to you, and hold you in his arms like you had done so easily to him. Why was it so hard for him to do the same? All he had to do was tell you that he was worried and that he had noticed that you seemed... duller. That he swore he could physically see the life draining out of your face bit by bit whenever he saw you.

Megumi was worried sick. Even now, his hands were trembling as he cursed himself. Why couldn't he just do something? Anything?

Why could he never tell the people around him how much they meant to him?

Why was he never able to tell them before it was too late?

Why was it always the kind people, the good people. Megumi wasn't a good person as much as he tried to be.

But you, you were the definition of a decent human being. More than decent. You were more human than he'd ever be, so why was this happening to you?

It felt like the past was repeating itself to Megumi, and just like with Tsumiki, he could do nothing but watch you suffer in silence. God, what was wrong with him, why was he so pathetic and-

"Actually-" you began, voice betraying you before you could stop it. Lying to Megumi made you feel sick. Sicker than you already felt.

You inhaled sharply, the air hanging thickly around you. Unspoken words lingering on the tip of your tongue. What were you doing? What would you even say?

Tell him you felt guilty for what had happened? Tell him that without you, Yukio would still be alive? Tell him how you've pushed yourself to the bone and beyond, hurting yourself far more than anyone else could. Tell him how sick you felt, sick to your core, how you couldn't eat because of the guilt, how you couldn't sleep because every time you tried, you saw that God awful night play like a record beyond your eyelids?

Your eyes flickered to the bandages that peaked through the sleeves of your hoodie. Injuries so bad even the alloy in your veins couldn't fix them. Should you tell him how you got them? How you've been rushing into missions not only to get revenge, but in hopes something unspeakable would happen to you so that you'd be able to atone for your sins? Perhaps even be able to see Yukio again?

Should you tell him how many times you've almost died?

Tell him the reason you decided to hand wash your sheets so often is because they're soaked with your blood? Tell him the reason you're always locked away in your room is because you're fighting away fevers and illnesses that come from your great injuries that you've learned to patch up yourself?

Tell him that every time you're close to death, you cry like a coward because you don't want to die alone, because you don't want to die at all, but you don't know how else to make peace with what you've done.

You're too far gone, and you've done this to yourself. Megumi deserves better than this.

Megumi deserves better than you.

"Actually- I'm perfectly fine, don't worry about me, Megumi, worry about yourself." You say, forcing normality into your voice even as the tears sting your eyes.

Megumi opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but he hesitates. And his hesitation is what pushes you further away.

"Goodnight, Megumi, sweet dreams." You said, voice soft and raw, and before Megumi could stop you, you disappeared into the shadows leaving Megumi all alone in the light.

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Petrification

Phos!Reader x (Platonic) Geto Suguru and Mahito

Warnings: Mahito being Mahito and everything that entails, he calls reader petnames, Phos forgets a lot of things, angst, mentions and implications of child abuse and trauma, Mahito being weird (himself), heavy topics, reader feels safe around Mahito, the usual Catharsis warnings

Notes: Mahito haters, once again, beware💀

"How much longer will you sleep?" Mahito pondered, sticking his finger into your cheek. Your cursed technique, if it could be called that, was truly interesting.

After that fateful encounter with Yuji and Nobara, Mahito had taken you back to the beach, shocking everyone there. They were concerned, wondering what had happened and how it had happened. But that was nothing compared to their reaction when he pulled out the chunk of gold laced Lapis Lazuli you had created.

Before anyone could react, Mahito had placed the medium-sized stone against your neck, expecting something to happen. He, Hanami, Dagon, and Geto were the only ones truly invested, watching for any movements or any signs of life.

They were disappointed, however, when nothing had happened even after a good 5 minutes. It was when they were arguing about what to do with your body that alloy in arms started to bleed out of your neck, covering the expanse of the Lapis Lazuli.

They watched in awe (Mahito going so far as to video the event) when the alloy seemed to mould and melt the chunk of Lapis Lazuli into the shape of a head.

When it retreated back into your body, you were left with a fully functional head. It looked like you, but slightly older, with long dark blue hair and eye lashes sprinkled with specks of gold. The agate in your legs seemed to vanish, matching the solid colour of your skin.

It had been approximately a week since then. Due to his experiences with Mimiko and Nanako, not to mention how he was the most knowledgeable about your cursed technique, Geto was the one watching over you most of the time.

He frowned, thinking back to what you had said previously about memories. He had promised he'd protect you and that you'd never have to use this part of your Cursed Technique. But look what happened.

Unwanted flashbacks of a dark-haired girl clouded his mind, the sound of a gun clicking in his head. That was how Mahito had described it. The sound your head had made as it snapped off sounded like the sound of a gun being shot.

Geto shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts. You reminded him so much of Mimiko and Nanako when he had first found them. Young, innocent, vulnerable, and plagued with pain at an age too young to deserve.

He couldn't help but wonder if he should introduce you to them during their break. They were at school and he wanted them to concentrate on their studies. He'd like to think that you'd get along well, however.

Nanako would help you get out of your shell while you and Mimiko had plenty in common already. You also liked crepes and sweets like they did. Nanako would be fond of our kind, honest nature while Mimiko would warm up to you in no time.

You were mature in a way beyond your years, but he was sure that Mimiko and Nanako would help you act more your age. Help you enjoy life more and perhaps distract you from your goals. You were simply a child who grew up too quickly, and perhaps being around Nanako and Mimiko, who acted like the embodiment of youth, would do you some good.

Somehow, Geto found himself unconsciously doing habits he had adapted from being around Mimiko and Nanako with you. Gently ruffling your hair, mending your clothes when they were torn, giving his opinion when you asked for it, helping you whenever you needed help. He found himself singing softly a couple of times while watching over you, as he did when Mimiko and Nanako were unwell.

You were a troubled child, and Geto found himself reliving his teenage years whenever he saw you, determined to make sure you did not end up the same way.

"Ah!" Mahito suddenly exclaimed, drawing Geto's attention to you.

Your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks, face contorting as you began to awaken.

Your tired eyes fluttered open, revealing deep blue eyes in comparison to your previously teal ones. You immediately tried to sit up, hissing at the pain in your head.

"Careful." Geto scolded, gently guiding you up, hand on the small of your back.

"Ge- to - san?" You asked, voice raspy and ever so slightly deeper than usual.

"Yes, Y/n. How do you feel?" He asked, voice soft in order to not overwhelm you.

The group watched you, Jogo, Hanami, and Dagon, now having joined, as you sounded out your name, syllable by syllable.

"Is that... my name?" You asked, looking Geto in the eye.

Geto's heart dropped, eyes widening as he looked at you, everything you had told him about your cursed technique rushing through his brain. After losing such a large part of yourself, it made sense that you would have lost some of your memories.

"Yes, that's your name. Can you name me 5 things you can see?" He tested, taking note of blank look in your eyes, confusion evident on your features.

"Uhm, you, the beach," you paused, looking around, "the trees, Hanami, Mahito and... who is that?" You asked as your eyes landed on Jogo, the curse splutter. Geto looked at him, giving him a pointed look, making him stay silent.

"It's OK, don't try to force yourself to remember. Can you name me 4 things you can feel?"

"The chair I'm on, the sun on my skin, uhm, Mahito's hand on my arm, Mahito don't touch me,"

"I'm just happy you remember me!"

"Ah, the blanket that's on me."

"Good, good. 3 things you can hear?" Geto's voice was calm, and even as he tried to stay relaxed in order to not cause you to panic.

"Your... your voice, the waves, the birds."

"2 things you can smell."

"Salt and Iron."

"1 thing you can taste."

"Iron."

Geto's brows furrowed, hand moving to gently brush the hair out of your face.

Your eyes widened as you took note of the colour of your now long hair, yet you didn't seem surprised.

"Ah, I see." You suddenly muttered, attempting to get onto your feet.

You had some searching to do.

You found yourself on the path to your to your childhood home once again. Retracing the steps as you faced what parts of your past you could remember.

"This is where we first met! Isn't this romantic?" Mahito sighed dreamily.

You paused, taking in the scenery of the street as you tried to clear the fogginess in your brain. It had been a few days since you had awoken, and Geto had only let you leave on the condition that you took Mahito with you for protection.

You couldn't argue as you knew the gaps in your memory could prove dangerous. Your inability to remember certain names and faces plaguing you.

As you arrived at your childhood home, you felt a sense of deja vu. It was night as you walked in, leaving the lights off, Mahito following behind you.

You immediately went upstairs, a place you previously avoided due to the memories that lingered there. Specifically in your parents' room. The place you needed to go to the most.

Goosebumps immediately raised on your skin as you walked, hands feeling clammy as you inhaled sharply. The air seemed to turn icy, your hands trembling as you walked into the room.

The room that held some of the worst memories of your childhood.

You felt nauseous as you walked in, keeping your head down on instinct as you made your way toward the cupboard, where your parents kept all the important files. You shakily opened the cupboard, grabbing the box wordlessly.

You were fine, you'd be fine. They weren't here anymore. They wouldn't hurt you.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. You froze, eyes widening as your heart rate spikes, panic rushing through you. You immediately flinched away, turning around, back hitting the cupboard as you closed your eyes, holding the box up in front of you in defense.

No no no no you weren't supposed to be here, and you got caught. You were going to be punished. You were to hit or worse, you were going to be locked up in the punishment room and-

"Bunny? What's wrong? You're acting pathetic right now."

Mahito's voice brought you back, eyes snapping open.

You were panting, cold sweat covering your skin as Mahito crouched closely in front of you, watching you intently. His voice was playful, but his eyes were sharp and calculating, focused on your form.

"Mahito, it's you..." Your voice shook as you spoke, tone almost questioning.

"Who else would it be?" Mahito's tone deepened, expression going cold for a split second before it lit up again.

"Look at me, Bunny, there's no one else here but us!" Mahito opened his arms almost invitingly.

His words rang in your head. He was right. It was just you and him. No one was here to hurt you now.

As you looked up at Mahito, his eyes shone like ghost quartz in the moonlight. Beautiful eyes deadly to others, that always seemed to look upon you kindly.

Tears welled up in your eyes, a sigh of relief leaving your lips. As much as you hated to admit it, being around Mahito made you feel safe.

Before you could stop yourself, you found yourself leaning forward into Mahito's embrace, head hitting his shoulder as you repeated his words in your head over and over.

"There, there, Bunny, I've got you. I'll never let anything else touch what's mine."

As you left your childhood home, you were left to ponder.

Out of all things, why couldn't you have forgotten those God forsaken people who had brought you into this twisted world?

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Hair holds memories

Phos!reader x (Platonic) Shoko Ieiri

Warnings: Angsty to comfort-ish, general themes found in Catharsis

Notes: The urge to post like 5 parts all at once😔

"Ah, Y/n, it's been a while." Shoko looked up from her desk, noticing your figure in the doorway.

"Shoko - Sensei, sorry for being such a bother." You frowned, nervously scratching the back of your head.

"Not at all. What happened?" She asked, ready to use her cursed technique on you.

"Oh, I'm not hurt, I just-" you paused, looking at your feet. You weren't quite sure if Shoko was the right person to ask, but she was the only person you trusted enough.

"Hmm? What's wrong?"

"I- I want to cut my hair, but I can't do it myself, so I wanted to ask if you could help." You said, fidgeting with your fingers. Shoko's eyes widened, humming as she looked at you before smiling kindly.

"Sure, take a seat."

You were silent as Shoko prepared, waiting for her patiently as she grabbed a mirror, putting it on the desk in front of you.

"How short do you want it? Any styles in mind?" She asked.

"Uhm, pretty short, about here, with messy bangs." You motioned. Shoko's eyes widened, immediately realising who's hairstyle you were taking inspiration from. Her heart softened as she began, letting you think in your own world.

Shoko felt regretful to an extent. Although, unlike the others, she understood that these things simply happened sometimes and no amount of regret could change what had already happened.

You were a bright kid. Kind with the prettiest smile. Shoko thought back to when you first arrived. Before you were allowed to join the team in missions.

You'd spent the majority of your time with her. Acting as her assistant, listening to her intently as she explained how to treat certain words that she didn't need to use her cursed technique for.

You were always so enthusiastic, waiting for your teammates to return from missions, helping her treat minor injuries. Watching over them vigilantly.

In all honesty, Shoko missed you. She missed how you'd spend days at a time with her, helping her with whatever she was doing. She missed when you'd run to her with a wide smile, tackling her in your embrace with a loud, "Shoko - Sensei!". She missed when you'd scold her for smoking with a wisdom beyond your years, claiming you wanted her alive and healthy for as long as you lived, and after that.

She missed when you'd ask her to do your hair, when you'd make silly mistakes and look at her with an innocent smile, when you'd skip class, telling Gojo you were going to the bathroom only to show up at her door. She never had the heart to chase you away. When you'd speak to her about your true feelings and confide your worries in her as if she were your elder sister more than your teacher.

And a part of Shoko wondered that if she'd perhaps said one thing different, if you'd still be the happy child you once were.

Yet, Shoko knew first hand that in the Jujutsu world, lively kids like you never stayed the same.

She thought back to one specific conversation she had with you. One about how hair held memories. And as she snipped away pieces of your hair, she understood your decision.

When she was done, she patted your shoulders, smiling at you. "It looks good on you. You look pretty."

"Thank- thank you, Shoko - Sensei." You looked in the mirror, smiling softly. You were worried your team would find it weird. They had been out on a mission for a while after all.

"Don't worry so much. It looks good."

"Shoko - Sensei, I-" You hesitated. You missed Shoko as much as she missed you. In your mind, however, you couldn't rely on anyone. It would make you weak, after all.

"Here." Shoko suddenly interrupted, pulling out a carton of banana milk from the mini fridge she was supposed to be using to house medication. She handed it to you, your eyes widening at the gesture.

"I always keep some for you here. It's a habit now." She smiled, so gently your eyes began to glaze over. Banana milk was your favorite. You'd always buy at least one a day, claiming that it was to you what cigarettes were to her, just healthier.

When you had started spending the majority of your time with her, she had started buying them for you and keeping them in the fridge so you wouldn't have to run half way across the school to get some. Even though that was months ago, she hadn't stopped. Shoko still waited for you.

"I'm always here, you know. You don't have to tough out your injuries by yourself. You made me buy all those coloured bandages and patterned plasters for a reason. They haven't been used in a while." She laughed.

You looked up at Shoko with teary eyes, lips trembling when she gently ruffled your hair.

You suddenly stood up, looking at the ground as you fiddled with the sleeves of your hoodie. Before Shoko could say anything, you wrapped your arms around her in a quick embrace. Shoko's hugs were always warm and comforting.

"Thank you, Shoko - Sensei." You whispered into her neck, letting your body relax in her grasp for a split second before you pulled away.

"I- I'll visit you next time I get injured." You stuttered, nervously scratching the back of your neck.

"I'll be waiting." Shoko smiled, watching as you left. She sat down at her desk, opening the top shelf. Inside was a picture of a group of teenagers. A boy with white hair, a boy with black hair, and a girl with brown hair.

Shoko inhaled deeply, closing the compartment. A sad smile spread across her cheeks. If there was one thing she wished, it was that you'd never have to feel what she did.

But she supposed it was already too late.

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Reminiscence

Phos!Reader x (Platonic) Gojo Satoru

Warnings: Angsty, flashbacks of Phos' life and progression, regret and depression

Notes: it be like that sometimes

The black screen of the TV flashes to life once again.

The camera clicks on, showing your figure sitting stiffly on a chair in a classroom. Your hair is in a short ponytail, eyes bright as your hands are cautiously fiddling with the hem of your uniform skirt. Your posture is rigid, lips almost in a grimace as you stare forward like a deer in headlights.

"Name." A voice comes from behind the camera.

"Y- Y/n." Your voice is high and strained.

"Age."

"I- I think I'm around 16?"

"Favourite colour?"

"Red, maybe?" Your words almost sound like a question.

"Hobbies?"

"Uhm, I like sleeping?" Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"Grade?"

"Like- school? Uh- 10? Oh, wait, oh sorceror grade! I'm- I'm not good enough to get graded, yet." Your tone dampens, back slouching.

"How long have you been at Jujutsu Tech?"

"Maybe, a month?"

"How do you feel about Jujutsu Tech?"

You open your mouth, closing it again as you gulp, scratching the back of your neck nervously.

"I- I like it, I really really do. The people are lovely, I feel like I'm in heaven. Everyone is so kind. Gojo - Sensei, Ieiri - Sensei, Yaga - Sensei, they're all so caring. Even my classmates! Yuji is so funny, and Nobara is so sweet! Megumi's a bit grumpy, but I want to get closer to him. I want to get closer to everyone."

Your expression softens to a giddy smile.

"Say a message to your future self."

"Hey! Are we a grade 1 sorceror, yet? Or did we end up staying with Ieiri - Sensei? Did we grow up pretty? Have we killed a curse by yourselves yet? Even if we haven't, it's OK, as long as we're happy!"

The camera shuts off, the last thing seen on screen being your smile and frantically waving hands.

The blank screen of the TV flashes to life once again.

The camera clicks on, showing your figure standing near the entrance of the school. It's the early afternoon, the sun shining on your skin. Your hair is tied back into a half up - half down ponytail. Your legs now have stripes of a black, metallic substance. You're smiling brightly at the camera.

"Name." A voice speaks from behind the camera.

"Y/n." You answer in a calm tone.

"Age."

"Around 16."

"Favourite colour."

"Blue. Blueberry blue, to be specific. The colour of Megumi's eyes." You laugh, turning to look at the boy who was walking past, being seen in the corner of the screen. His eyebrows furrow, shaking his head as he hides his face in the collar of his jacket.

"Concentrate on the camera." He huffs, making you laugh louder.

"Huh, what about me?" Another boy with pink hair comes onto screen, pouting at you.

"Don't worry, Yuji, I also like," You squint at the boy, leaning closer as you stare into his eyes, "Brown, it's a nice colour."

The boy makes a noise of surprise, gawking at you.

"You didn't know my eye colour til now!"

You laugh as the dark-haired boy is seen pulling the pink haired boy away from you. You turn back to face the camera.

"Sorry about that."

"Hobbies."

"Recently, I've liked going shopping with Nobara! She's so much fun to hang out with, even Maki - Senpai. I still like sleeping, though."

"Grade?"

Your eyes brightened, hands clasping together as you leaned back and forth on the balls of your heels.

"I'm Grade 2 now! I know, I know, I'm amazing!" You smile, scratching the back of your neck almost shyly.

"It's cause of my legs, they're so cool, see, see!" You grin, running to a nearby tree and back in a few seconds.

"How long have you been at Jujutsu Tech?"

"3 months."

"How do you feel about Jujutsu Tech?"

"I love it! It feels like home! I've been training with Gojo - Sensei lately. I met another sensei recently though, Nanami - Sensei! And I met a 3rd year, his name is Yukio - Senpai. He's so frown-y, all the time, like Megumi! But he's very caring, oh- there he is!"

The camera follows your finger as you point to a pale, white-haired boy walking through the gates. He has a bruise on his face, light grey eyes staring into the camera, then back at you.

"Yukio - chan! How was your mission?" Your face lights up, pulling the boy by his arm onto the screen.

"Don't call me that." He states almost monotonously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Fine, Yukio - Senpai. You must be tired, go to Shoko - Sensei." You frown, letting go of him.

He sighs, turning around. Before he leaves, he ruffles your hair, flashing an almost nonexistent smile to the camera as your expression brightens up.

"Say a message to your future self."

"Hey! Are we a 1st grade sorceror yet? Have we beaten Yuji in Mario Kart? Have we managed to land a hit on Megumi when we spar? Has Gojo- Sensei finally gotten us the sushi he promised? Well, I believe in us, anyways! Whatever we're doing, we must be happy, huh?"

The camera shuts off, the last thing seen being your wide smile and frantically waving hands.

The black screen of the TV flashes to life once again.

The camera clicks on, showing your figure leaning against the wall of the school building. It's in the late afternoon. The sky is dark. Rain can be seen to your side and in the distance, uncovered by the shelter.

You're dressed in a light blue hoodie and shorts. Your hair is now short, above your ears. You have a few plasters on your face. Your eyes are dull, dark circles underneath them. Your hands are gold, shiny even in this lighting.

You look to the side, away from the camera. Your lips pulled into an awkward smile as you fiddled with the charm connected to the hilt of your sword. A metal snowflake.

"Name."

"Y/n."

"Age."

"Roughly, 16."

"Favourite colour."

"Blue."

"Hobbies."

"Training."

Your expression and tone of voice have not changed thus far.

"Grade?"

Your lips pull into a thin line. You freeze for a few seconds, sighing deeply.

"Special."

"How long have you been at Jujutsu Tech?"

"4 and a half months."

"How do you feel about Jujutsu Tech?"

Your eyes focus on the rain, and you stay silent.

A crash of thunder makes you focus on the camera for a split second before looking away.

"It's nice. Gojo - sensei, uhm, the people. Everything, I guess- it's, it's nice." You begin to nervously fiddle with the charm again.

"Say a message to your future self."

"We- let's keep getting stronger."

The camera shuts off, the last thing seen being your face as your eyes glaze over, fingers tightening around the hilt of your sword.

Gojo's eyes are still trained on the large TV, his hands folded as he sighs. He presses a button on the remote, playing the next video.

The TV lights up once again, showing a teenage Gojo smiling at the camera. He's at Jujutsu Tech, a brown haired boy waving at the camera with a bright smile, standing a ways behind him. A blonde haired boy stands motionless next to him.

"Suguru! Look here!" He turns the camera around to face a dark-haired boy who smiles at the camera.

Gojo grits his teeth, looking down as the video continues to play. The loud shouts of various teenagers can be heard, laughter ringing throughout the dark, empty room.

"Suguru, where do I keep going wrong?"

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: State of Affairs (dark red)

Phos!Reader x (Platonic?) Megumi Fushiguro

Warnings: soooo angsty, so much regret, questioning, self hatred, self loathing, self blaming, Megumi being mean to reader, Megumi being emotionally constipated, mentions of Megumi's struggles caused by Toji leaving, just pretty sad over all

Notes: Alexa, play Dark Red by Steve Lacy

Megumi felt guilty. Guilty, beyond all understanding. This was his fault, after all. This all began and ended with him.

He could only describe you as the softest part of his heart. The weakest. The most humane part of him he rejected so deeply.

You were weak. From the time he had met you, that was one thing that hadn't changed to him. You were so... human. It was almost sickening.

He remembered when Gojo had paired you up together for your first mission. How your hands trembled, the sword in your hands weighing you down as you nervously looked around.

He remeber how easily you got hurt, skin cracking simply from the cursed energy released by the curse. The lines forming like the roots of all concern, the weak roots of an unstable tree being tossed around by the wind.

Yet he also remeber how fearlessly you had tried to fight off the curse when he had been momentarily injured. Form so small against the large curse, but tenacious in the worst way. Body shaking as you rocked back and forth with your sword, the weight so much you had no choice but to hurl the sword at the curse.

You knew you would lose, yet you were still prepared to sacrifice yourself for Megumi, as if your life held no importance. He hated that about you.

The aftermath of that incident was something that Megumi remembered to this day. The guilt eating away at him.

He had snapped at you, belittling your efforts, calling you weak, saying you should forget about being a sorceror. Calling you a liability on the battlefield, claiming you were simply not cut out for this world.

Gosh, he was such an idiot. He had meant to berate you for your reckless actions and tell you to take more caution and not be so ready to give your life away. Especially not for him. He didn't deserve that.

He wondered if he had planted that seed of doubt in your head. At the time, his anger had blindsided him. But he had never really thought you'd take it to heart. You had simply laughed off his comment, eyes glazing ever so slightly, vowing to prove him wrong, after all.

Yet, as he watched you train, regularly asking him for sparring matches to show off your progress, he couldn't help but wonder if he had caused this development. If he had been the catalyst to your downfall. The butterfly who flapped his wings, resulting in the typhoon.

Every action made him feel worse. It seemed as if he could never do right by you.

Even when he tried to help you train, when he stayed up late at night waiting for you to return after you'd snuck out, when he'd leave snacks on your desk because he knew you hadn't been eating much. How he worried himself sick whenever you got injured, how he visited you every single day you were unconscious whenever you injured yourself. He would never admit he had been the one to put the flowers at your bedside because they were nothing compared to the flowers you had grown in his heart.

Megumi wanted to protect you as much as he did Itadori, Kugisaki, Gojo, even Tsumiki. He had seen the signs even before everyone else.

He had been the first one to ask if you'd been sleeping well, noticing the discoloration under your eyes. Sneakily taking food you liked off his plate and putting it on yours whenever you'd eat out, noticing the plushness of your cheeks reducing.

He'd been lying if he had said he'd been trying his best. Not knowing any better was no excuse. No matter how many times he tried to convince himself, it was. He could have learned for you. He could have tried harder for you.

You deserved better than him. That was what he firmly believed.

Despite how hostile he had been, you had accepted him and his flaws wholeheartedly. You were the one who matched his pace behind the rest of the group as you walked. You were the one who refused to let him eat his meals alone, always finding him and joining him. You were the one who would sit with him in silence, simply keeping him company. You were the one who was always silent, listening to everything he said. Taking notes of his likes and dislikes, doing your best to understand him in a way no one had.

You were so much to him, yet he could never do anything for you.

It was still fresh in his mind. The day you left. The day he should have said something, anything, but had failed to.

It was late in the night when he saw you, sky pitch black, stars twinkling brightly. You were walking through the hallways in casual clothes, your jujutsu uniform jacket folded in your arms. He was confused, pausing in the hallway as you walked toward him. He was wearing his uniform jacket, but casual pants.

"Ah, Megumi." You smiled, a genuine smile. One so bright Megumi thought he was dreaming.

"Y/n?" His eyes fluttered down to the clothes in your arms, quirking a brow at you.

"Let's go for a walk, Megumi, like we used to." You had laughed, referring to how you'd follow him around the school, harping him with questions when you'd first arrived. Although it had been a few months, it felt as if it had been years.

So many seasons had passed.

Megumi had begun to wonder if he had started losing you in the winter or the spring.

His eyes stayed glued to your form as he watched you walk. Your form was stronger, so much more confident. Head high, strong shoulders that seemed to hold the weight of unspoken words.

You looked unreal, that night in particular more than anything, and for some reason, a sense of dread filled Megumi.

You had led him to the roof, staring silently at the stars as you leaned against the railing. And he stayed silent with you. The silence was never lonely when you were around.

"You know, Megumi, you're like cinnabar." You said suddenly.

Megumi frowned.

"Cinnabar is poisonous." He looked at you with narrow eyes. He wasn't sure if you were being serious or simply teasing.

"But it's beautiful." You said. Not an ounce of hesitation in your voice, eyes still trained on the sky.

Megumi's cheeks turned pink.

"It only has a hardness of 2.5. Yet it's strong enough to keep itself safe. It's so gentle, so beautiful that even though it hurts you at first, you see beyond that. It's so bright. You can't help but look up to it. Even though it's usually alone, it still shines. I think it shines more when it's surrounded by other gems, though."

Megumi stayed silent.

You smiled. You weren't speaking about Cinnabar anymore.

"Let's swap jackets." You said suddenly, turning to face him.

"Why?" He asked, eyes widening.

Your jacket was the exact same as his. You had had it designed like that when you had first arrived. Megumi was strong and composed. You looked up to him, wanting to be him because he was everything you weren't. This had caused you to ask Gojo to get you the same jacket as his.

Since then, you had been wearing it loyally, only difference being that you tucked it into your skirt. Itadori, Kugisaki, and Gojo had never let him live it down.

"To remind me of you, like a keep sake. It's the same jacket, Megumi, I even ordered mine oversized so it would match perfectly. So, please?"

Megumi frowned. He didn't like the way you spoke about this. A keepsake? You saw him every day. That made no sense. You had always been oddly sentimental however. No matter how odd your requests, Megumi could never say no to you.

So he wordlessly unzipped his jacket, taking it off and holding it out to you. Your face lit up so pretty, teal eyes so bright as your smile finally reached your eyes after so many months.

You took the jacket, placing yours in his hands. You didn't hesitate to put it on, buttoning it up with a smile. You did a twirl, looking at Megumi.

"How do I look?" You asked playfully.

"Same as always." He deadpanned, yet the pinkness on the tips of his ears said otherwise.

"You know, Megumi. Your name, it means blessing. You live up to that name. You're one of the best things that ever happened to me. Don't forget that your existence is a blessing, nothing less." You sighed, an almost sad smile on your face.

How could his name ever truly mean blessing when all he brought was misfortune to those around him?

The words died on Megumi's tongue.

"Why do you keep talking like you're gonna die or something?" Megumi's brows furrowed, face scrunching up in annoyance.

"In the future, I will. But, you don't know what could happen. Jujutsu Sorcerors have it tough. I could even die tomorrow-"

"Shut up."

Your eyes widened, lips trembling ever so slightly. There was silence for a few seconds as you suddenly turned away. You then sat down, knees bent against your chest, back against the railing.

"Stay here with me, just for tonight?"

Megumi wanted to protest. Claim it was unsafe or unsanitary. Tell you the floor was too cold. That you'd get sick. Something. Anything. Yet the words died on his tongue the moment he noticed the tears in your eyes.

He sat next to you, and before he knew it, you were crying, fingers laced with his as you leaned your head against his shoulder.

"If- if there's ever a time, when I'm not here anymore, please, you have to, please- please, forget me Megumi. Don't hesitate. Live on, as if I never existed. Promise me this, and only this." Your voice was cracking, words muffled against his shirt, tears soaking his skin.

"I-"

"Promise me, Megumi. Please. Even if I'm not here in the morning."

Megumi's stomach dropped. Just what were you going through? What was causing this? He knew the only way to comfort you was to agree. Even if his heart ripped in his chest and his words caught in his throat like thick tar.

Megumi always messed up around you. This was the least he could do.

"I promise."

That was the biggest lie Megumi had ever told.

You looked like a dream in the moonlight. Your eyes holding the galaxy as you looked at him in a way that tugged every string attached to his heart.

Megumi hated when you cried. You were still pretty, eyes crystalline and lips so pouty. You were just so much prettier when you smiled.

He let you cry in his arms until you fell asleep, hearing you mutter a goodnight followed by a thank you so filled with sorrow, a part of Megumi knew he wouldn't be seeing you for a long time.

He didn't know how or why, but he was sure of it. So he held you tightly, hoping and praying he was just overthinking this. Praying you'd still be curled in his arms in the morning.

Why would you leave? Where would you go? Was it because of him? And if it wasn't, was he not reason enough for you to stay?

Megumi's eyes glazed over.

Was everyone just meant to leave him?

This felt like a final goodbye. The ending scene of drama that had played on too long.

In this moment of weakness, when he knew you were asleep, Megumi whispered everything he had ever wanted into your hair. The apologies, the truths in all the lies, the praises, his true feelings. He spoke it all to the moon and the stars.

He could never let you go.

And when Megumi woke up in the morning, sun shining like a bad conscience against his empty arms. Megumi gritted his teeth, staring at the ground in front of him.

Like the moon that shone at night and disappeared in the day, you were gone. So silently, Megumi almost wondered if he had imagined you.

Yet the sorrow in his chest, so thick he felt like he could barely breathe, told Megumi you had been there.

Worst of all, he knew you were gone.

Something in Megumi died that day that never came back to life.

So he found himself locked up in his room while the others had rushed out to find you, realising you were gone. He didn't have the strength to search for you.

Megumi had met you where the spirit met the flesh and bone, yet in neither could he find an answer.

So instead, he prayed to a God he wasn't sure existed that in another life, you'd meet again. This time in a story that wasn't meant to end so bitterly.

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Cantarella

Phos!reader x (Platonic) Mahito

Warnings: Mahito being Mahito and everything that entails, funnily enough, this is one of, if not, the fluffiest parts, Mahito calls reader his 'test rabbit', reader somewhat enjoys Mahito's company, Mahito licks reader's hand

Notes: Mahito haters beware 💀🙏

"I know you can see me. Hey, stop ignoring me."

Your eye twitched as you walked, attempting to ignore the rather annoying humanoid curse as he followed you around.

You had simply snuck out to the convenience store, craving ice cream that particular night. On your way out, you had noticed an odd looking man on the street, realisation kicking in when you felt a large amount of cursed energy.

Your eyes widened when you made eye contact, immediately turning away and walking slightly faster. His face fit the description of a curse your team had faced while you were in a coma months before perfectly.

You knew you were in no condition to fight, especially with how tired you were, so your only option was to pretend you couldn't see him. You hadn't expected him to start following you, though, walking a couple feet behind you as he spoke to you.

You couldn't go back to Jujutsu Tech, not with him following you, but you weren't quite sure where to go. So, instead, you found yourself walking the familiar path back to your family home.

"Hey." Your eyes widened when you felt a cold hard grab your wrist, pausing in your footsteps.

"That's strange. I can't see your soul. Are you a Jujutsu Sorceror?" The curse asked, an unsettling smile spreading across his face.

"What do you want?" You asked, not a hint of fear or worry in your body.

"I'm intrigued. You don't seem scared, and my cursed technique doesn't work on you. Let's be friends."

You narrow your eyes in disgust, grimacing as you look the curse in the eye.

"Friends?" You say, as if the word is better on your tongue, shaking your head as you weigh your options. You feel his grip on your wrist tighten, the soft 'crack' of your wrist startling you.

"Sure, whatever." You agree, hoping he'd let go of your hand. You sigh in relief when he does, turning around and pulling up your sleeve ever so slightly. You pause as you watch the crack repair itself.

"Is that your cursed technique?"

You hear a voice next to your ear, the feeling of warm breath of your neck making you jolt.

"Don't do that." You say, looking around and realising several people were looking at you. You sighed, shaking your head as you began walking away.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Don't talk to me. People will think I'm insane."

You ignored him until you got to your house, attempting to close the door only for him to invite himself in.

You kept the lights off, putting the plastic bag on the table before sitting on the couch.

"Is this your house? Do you live alone?"

"Stop asking such creepy questions." You said, grabbing your ice cream out of your bag. It was peach flavoured and covered in white chocolate, your favourite.

You lifted the ice cream to your lips, about to take a bite when you noticed him staring at you intently. You beckoned him closer, not even looking at him as you shoved it into his mouth.

You then turned to him expectantly, hand still holding the stick. "It's good, right?"

The curse smiled, nodding. He was beginning to figure you out, little by little. Your unpredictability was your best quality to him, though.

You took the ice cream out of his mouth, shrugging as you took a bite.

"That was an indirect kiss." The curse's exclaimed loudly.

"What?" Your brows furrowed.

"I read about it in a book! You just indirectly kissed me." He giggled like a school girl. You were seriously considering punching him.

"My first indirect kiss." He sighed almost wistfully, looking at you to take in your reaction. You rolled your eyes, staring at the ceiling as you ate the ice cream, ignoring his incessant talking once again.

He grabbed your hand, now sitting on the couch next to you as he leaned toward you.

"Don't ignore me." Although his tone was playful, his eyes were sharp, you sighed, finally looking at him.

"You're kind of, what is the words human use? Pretty, you know." He began, staring at you intently. He let go of your hand, brushing your hair out of your face. He didn't know why, but he was willing to do anything to get a rise out of you.

Mahito leaned closer to your, smirking as you flinched back, eyes widening ever so slightly. He couldn't help but laugh.

"Humans are so intriguing. I've decided. You'll be my little guinea pig-"

"I don't like guinea pigs."

"My test rabbit then. You looked just like one just now. You're gonna teach me everything there is to know about humans."

You paused, looking at him in confusion. It was then that something in you clicked.

You couldn't remember the last time you were so off guard, so calm, you weren't even this relaxed around Gojo - Sensei. Yet here you were, with a dangerous curse in the house your parents were killed in. And weirdly enough, you didn't mind his company.

"Yeah, sure."

"Really?" Mahito smiled, eyes lighting up as he grabbed your hand once again.

"Yeah, yeah." You said nonchalantly. You were confused, however, when Mahito didn't let go of your hand, instead raising it. You expected him to take another bite, turning back to stare at the ceiling.

Your froze, heart dropping when you felt something wet and warm against your hand, eyes going wide as you turned rigidly to look at Mahito.

You watched, completely shocked as he licked a trail of melted ice cream off your hand.

"That tastes good." He grinned, waiting for your reaction.

You raised your hand, disgust evident on your face as you karate chopped the top of his head.

"Don't do that, that's so gross!"

You ended up spending the next few hours with Mahito, talking about everything and nothing until it grew to the early morning, and you both had to leave. Unbeknownst to you, however, Mahito watched you, a wide grin on his face.

"She'd be a perfect fit." He commented, turning to the dark-haired man that had appeared beside him.

"It shouldn't take much convincing for her to join us. Next time, we'll visit her together."

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Strong Hands.

Phos!reader × (Platonic) Gojo Satoru

Warnings: angsty but mostly comfort, Gojo realises just how highly the reader thinks of him, he's in his feels for a lil, self loathing, insecurities, self blaming, regret

Notes: Hoooo boy. Only posting Gojo and the reader for the next few days

Your eyes were tired, yet you ignored the calls of sleep. Standing in the middle of the training ground as you practiced. Over and over again. Strike, dodge, defend. Strike, dodge, defend.

Every time your vision blurred, you saw that God awful curse than had taken Yukio from you. Your hands shook, teeth gritting as you inhaled deeply.

How long had you been doing this? The sun had yet to rise when you began, yet now it was close to setting. Little did you know, a pair of blue eyes had not left your form once since they had found you.

"Just go talk to her." Shoko frowned, nudging Gojo with her elbow, cigarette at her lips.

"You feel guilty. You feel like this wouldn't have happened if you had gotten there faster. Well, it happened. And now she's alone because you're too much of a coward to speak to her. Remember, your team is on a mission. She has no one but you." She sighed.

You had been pushing yourself for almost a week. Since the day Yukio died, you hadn't given yourself a break. Your weakness cost you everything, and you refused to let it happen again.

The fatigue was slowly catching up to you. You hadn't been eating nor sleeping, and the weakness in your bones held no remorse.

Tears blinded your vision when you finally fell to the ground, body shaking as you tried to force it to move.

'Move.' You said, staring at your shaky hands.

'Move.'

They didn't respond, taking you back to the day you lost due to the same problem.

'Move. Move. Move!'

You were crying now, choking on your tears as your body trembled.

"Come on, you're my body, you're so supposed to move- why- why won't you listen to me? Am I the problem, if it weren't me, would Yukio-"

You were interrupted by a pair of hands so large and strong that you felt as if they could hold your entire world. They pulled you into a familiar chest, a scent so comforting engulfing you as your tears seemed to never end.

"G- Gojo - Sensei, welcome back from your mission." You sobbed, knowing you couldn't hold it together.

"Yeah, it's nice to see you again." Gojo commented, looking at the sky. He still blamed himself. He was the strongest, yet he still couldn't protect those closest to him. He was pathetic. He was weak. How could he be the strongest when he couldn't even protect Yukio... protect you. He couldn't protect anyone. Not even his own best friend.

As much as he hated to admit it, this was the reality of this cursed world, and he knew it couldn't be changed. He wanted to change, more than anything. He swore he would, so why-

"You know, Gojo - Sensei- that- that day, even after everything, when I- when I felt like everything was over, like I had nothing- when I saw you, I felt like everything would be OK. I- I know it's weird and selfish, but ever since that first day, no matter what I faced, when I saw you at the end, I felt like I was safe, like I'd be OK. Like I could get through it. Even now, it's hard, so hard I- it hurt so much I couldn't breathe- but seeing you, I feel like everything'll be OK." You cried, words muffled and broken, but Gojo had never heard anything clearer.

From the beginning, Gojo Satoru had been your strong hold, your pillar, whether he knew it or not.

From the night you saw him, while covered in your parents' blood. A man so bright, so clean, so strong. Stainless hands, so large, so strong, scooping you up as if you were a child.

Gojo Satoru had become your safe haven.

Gojo's hands trembled as he held you, holding your head against his chest as his eyes glazed over.

"I'm sorry." He whispered against your hair in a voice so soft you thought you were imagining it.

Gojo was wrong. This entire time, he had been wrong. He thought you hated him for everything. For never being fast enough to save you from what happened to your legs, to your hands, to Yukio. Yet he was so wrong. It almost made him sick.

This entire time, he hadn't been a reminder of your damnation, but rather your salvation.

And the guilt he felt knowing he had been too selfish to understand that and had left you in hear of his own feelings had him on his knees.

You were a child, as he had been once, given too much responsibility, too much pain to handle, too much regret. As a teacher, he had failed you. He has failed to protect your innocence. The shreds of childhood you had left were slipping through your fingers, and he swore he was going to get them back.

You were a child, and he was an adult. If he couldn't protect, the least he could do was be there for you when you needed.

You were so fragile, so small in his arms, crying so hard he was afraid you'd break.

He couldn't change his actions in the past, but he could change now. Holding you in his arms, he made an oath. No matter what, even if it cost him his life, he would protect his students. He refused to lose anything he cared about ever again.

He wasn't the strongest for no reason, after all.

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Kingdom Come.

Phos!Reader x (Platonic) Itadori Yuji, Kugisaki Nobara and Mahito

Warnings: Character death, murder ig, blood, gore, soooo angsty it isn't even funny, mentions of mental health, breakdowns, regret, neglect, ingestion of blood, grief, Mahito deserves his own warning, so so much self loathing, it's just alot.

Notes: Longest part yet. In my defense, I listened to Kimi Ga Kureta Mono, Give It Back and Inertia, Rapport, Lamp, and Ichiko Aoba while writing this

You hadn't expected the members of Jujutsu Tech to find you so quickly. It had barely been a few months after all. But here you were on a 'stroll' with Mahito and Jogo, when suddenly, you had the displeasure of  seeing Yuji and Nobara.

You had hoped to escape before they noticed you, but it was too late.

That was how you ended up in this stand-off, standing next to Mahito with your hands in your pockets. You were so nonchalant, not even looking them in the eye.

"This seems like it's gonna be a pain." You whispered to Mahito.

"Come on, these are your friends, don't you think it'll be fun? Itadori Yuji hates me, though. I'm taking more of a risk than you." Mahito laughed.

You cursed under your breath. Of course, Jogo left at the first sign of danger.

"Y/n! What are you doing?" Yuji asked, eyes narrowing at your form.

Nobara's eyes were filled with rage, glazing over. Standing with the curses, however, you looked healthier than you had when you were with them.

Your face looked fuller, brighter, cheeks flushed ever so slightly. It seemed as if life had returned back to you, and that realisation left a stabbing pain in both Yuji and Nobara's chests.

"What am I doing? Well, I was taking a walk with my friend, now though, hmm, I hope I'm not fighting, that's for sure." You shrugged, leaning on Mahito's shoulder.

The goal, your goal, was to make them hate you, to make them never think of you without a foul taste in their mouths, and although it was cruel, this was the perfect way to do it. You had to taunt them, crush their spirits, become someone you weren't, briefly embrace the darkness in your heart before fleeing to the light once again. The only problem was that you didn't know which direction the light was cracking in from.

"You upset I took another one of your friends? If you want her back, come get her." Mahito taunted, narrowing his eyes. Jogo had decided not to take part in the battle, rather informing Getou of what was going on.

You watched as Mahito and Yuji went at it. Nobara hadn't moved yet. She was a strong woman, but not in the face of her ex - best friend whom she had watched whither away, unable to do anything about it.

"Man, this is lame. Nobara, attack me or something. Get it over and done with, I wanna go back home." You sighed nonchalantly, looking off to the side.

"Y/n, what... just what did we mean to you? Did we mean anything at all?" Nobara knew her words were selfish. We, we, we. I. Did she ever mean anything to you at all? This was selfish of her. So selfish of her to make it about herself, but she couldn't help it. Everyone is a little selfish with the people they love.

Home. You said that word so casually now. She remembered a day in summer so long ago when you, Gojo, Megumi, Yuji, and her were all on the training grounds. You weren't training, just sitting in each other's presence, talking casually.

You had been unusually quiet that day, and Nobara and Yuji had taken it upon themselves to get it the bottom of it, see what was bothering you.

She remembered the way your cheeks flushed pink, form trembling ever so slightly as you gathered all your courage and told them you liked them in the boldest voice you could muster. Claiming it was stupid, but you had been thinking about your family a lot lately and couldn't help but feel as if Jujutsu Tech had become your new family. Your new home.

Had you replaced them so easily?

"Huh, who knows. Fight me and figure it out." You smiled. Not the half smile they had grown used to, but a real smile, wide and bright. It didn't reach your eyes, though. It never did.

You knew Nobara wouldn't fight you. She couldn't. She was weak, and she cared about you too much. And you sighed, deciding to at least impart her with some knowledge.

"You're weak, Nobara. You're tenacious, and your curse technique is strong, but you hesitate, and that makes you weak. We mean nothing to each other now, I'm just another villain you need to defeat, so hurry up and stop being so pathetic and attack me."

Nobara felt sick. This was not you. This was not the bubbly, soft hearted girl who never hurt a fly. This was not the girl who painted her nails to match hers even though she didn't like nail polish. This was not the girl she had gone shopping with Maki with who stumbled in every pair of heels she tried on. This was not the girl who she shared a bed with whenever she had bad dreams. This was not the girl who cried in Nobara's arms until she fell asleep. This was not the girl who cried when they had returned from a mission all beaten up, the girl who had stayed awake sick with worry, spending all her time with Shoko in hopes she could help them with their injuries when they returned. This was simply not you.

And Nobara couldn't help but wonder if she was at fault. How long had you been feeling this way? How hadn't she noticed? Who was she lying to? She had noticed. They all had. But it had never occurred to them that you would actually do this. It was you, after all. You were the most put together, composed one of the group. Weak as you had been, you were never scared to put your life on the line to save others.

You who had been soothing their sore hearts and shining light upon their dark nights... had no one to do the same for you in return.

When had the days turned to nights in your head? When did the voices of everyone around you become muffled? When had the warmth in your heart turned cold?

Just how long did you suffer? Did you struggle with everything around you? With yourself? Until you decided this was the only way out?

Nobara took in a shaky breath, eyes glazing over.

You frowned when you felt the cursed energy of a few curses behind you. Jogo must have told Geto what had happened. You rolled your eyes, narrowing them at the curses, knowing they wouldn't listen to you.

Nobara now had no choice. She had to fight.

She activated her cursed technique, immediately getting to work fighting the curses. You hadn't moved from your spot, watching the fight a few feet in front of you.

"Fine then, if you won't get me answers, I'll force them out of you." Nobara shouted, steeling her resolve.

You smiled, inviting her to engage in combat.

You dodged all of her attacks, surprised when she tried to use close combat. You recognised her form, realising that she had been training with Maki. You smiled. She was still underestimating you. Just because you didn't have the will to fight, it didn't mean that you were still weak.

It was amusing, almost like an orcastrated dance. Nobara charged, you dodged, her fist flew at you, you used your foot to make her stumble. You were so much more agile and graceful than you had once been, easily dodging all her attacks.

It became even easier when the curses started attacking again. She could only hold them off for so long.

Nobara knew she had to end this soon, her cursed energy running low. But she finally had you in the perfect position.

"What's wrong, Nobara? Are you out of cursed energy already?" You mocked, staring at the girl a few feet in front of you. She was panting, clearly tired, but when she made eye contact with you, she smiled.

"Tomonari."

Your eyes widened, noticing the straw doll in her hands.

Nobara planned to immobilise your arms and legs, allowing her to effectively stop you and be able to bring you back with her. But in her rush, she was careless, one of her nails piercing a bit too high.

With the sound of shattering glass, your head snapped clean off. The strength of Nobara's nail easily overpowered the gold and gems that ran through your veins. Phosphophyllite only had a hardness of 3.5 after all.

The sound caught the attention of Mahito and Yuji, both boys turning in shock to watch as your head fell to the ground, shattering into pieces of gem so gorgeous, reflecting the moonlight like a puddle of ichor.

Yuji had felt weak. For the second time, he had been unable to protect someone he cared about. He was a Jujutsu Sorceror. He was supposed to be strong. How strong could he truly be if he could never protect the people he cared about?

What was he without Sukuna? Just a boy with above average physical strength who couldn't even protect the people closest to him.

This felt like Junpei all over again. Yuji felt sick. And of course, this God forsaken curse was involved again.

The rage managed to overtake how sick, how weak, Yuji felt. There was no point thinking about it after all. That wouldn't save you.

Perhaps this was worse than Junpei, in a way. You were the one person who saw through Yuji's smile. He could never hide how he felt from you.

His mind couldn't help but wonder to that night when everything had caught up to him. His grandfather, his execution, Sukuna, Junpei, curses, the cruelness of the world around him. Yuji felt as if he was slowly breaking.

And you, with a patience rivaling that of a deity, had patched up all the cracks, holding Yuji so gently he couldn't help but cry. Finally, let everything out, his true feelings, everything he had gone through, how unfair everything felt.

You were the one person he could never hide anything from.

Yet, you were the one person he could never read.

How did things turn out like this? He couldn't help but ask on all those nights he found himself in your room, looking at the picture you had taken of them all on the day of the first snow. The one you had framed on your bedside. The one you had left behind.

Yuji would be lying to himself if he said he didn't see it. He saw your eyes grow tired, weary from the burden you shouldered alone. Between the business of missions and training, he noticed the sadness that lingered in your features after Yukio's death. But he thought you'd be fine. He thought you had Nanamin, Ieiri - Sensei, Maki - Senpai, Panda - Senpai, Inumaki - Senpai. He thought you'd be fine without him, without Fushiguro, without Kugisaki.

He thought.

He also thought the same about Junpei. When would he learn?

When Yuji heard that sickening crack, he felt the same despair he had felt the day Sukuna had ripped out his heart.

Blood and gold fell from your neck, dripping down your body so slowly. Then, your knees buckled, body falling to the floor.

"Oh no, this doesn't look very good." Mahito commented, having made it just in time to catch your body. Pouting as if he were a child whose sweets had just been taken.

He smiled, noticing that one of the curses had turned to Lapis Lazuli. You had managed to touch it before you lost your power.

"Wow, Jujutsu Sorcerors are more cruel than I thought. Killing their own friends." He taunted, looking at the duo who looked absolutely crushed.

Yuji's eyes were wide, still in shock, while Nobara's legs had given in, hitting the ground.

What had she done?

Your blood stained Mahito's hands, his curiosity getting the best of him. He licked it off his thumb, contemplating the taste.

"It's salty."

"Let go of her."

Mahito looked up, hearing Yuji's voice. His eyes widened, noticing how Yuji's cursed energy had spiked. He was practically trembling with rage, hands shaking, yet the tears in his eyes told another story.

"Now that's no fair. You killed her, but you're blaming me. How about you go tell your friends what you did, and come get her body from me. Together." Mahito grinned. He fought only when he knew he could win. And right now, he knew he wouldn't. Your friend was ready to drag Mahito to hell and back if it meant you'd go back to him.

He took your body, like a soldier departing from war, stained in blood and the sorrow that poured from your soul. Disappearing before Yuji could react.

Their eyes then trained on the shattered Phosphophyllite in front of them. Nobara broke.

Just what had she done?

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Something only we know.

Phos!Reader x (Platonic) Getou Suguru

Warnings: Mentions of mental health, brief implications of child abuse, reader blames herself for everything, self loathing, mentions of health and eating disorders, Getou is still Getou, very angsty to somewhat comfort, Getou sees himself in reader

Notes: Hoo boy, this was alot. I love Getou tho so in this au, he will still be himself, but anyways pls prepare yourself for angst!!

"Getou - San?" You asked, finally finding the courage to voice your concerns. It was a hot day at the beach, as usual. Mahito was terrorising Jogo and Hanami while Getou rested with you in the shade.

"Yes, Y/n - chan?" Getou looked up from the book he was reading. It was unusual for you to suddenly speak to him, so he decided to give you his full attention when he did.

"Can- can I tell you, about my cursed technique? Is it OK, just, for insurance sake?" You stutter. You had been wanting to speak to Getou about your Cursed Technique since you met him but hadn't gotten the guts to till now.

"Of course, Y/n - chan, what is it?" Getou had been anticipating this conversation. He had been equally curious about your cursed technique, wanting to see the limits and advantages it held. But he didn't want to scare you off. You were the most closed off member of his 'family', and he knew you'd need time to tell him these things.

"Basically, my cursed technique... I can turn curses into various precious gems and alloys by touching them and absorbing them..." You started, knowing full well this wasn't what you wanted to say most.

Getou hummed, this was the basic information about it you had told him, but you were hesitating, clearly having something weighing on your mind. So he stayed patient, nodding along gently.

"The thing is... when I absorb curses... I feel sick, in here." You pointed to your chest, hands trembling ever so slightly.

"It's like, they become a part of me. Not in the soul way, but in the way where I can feel all the misery and pain, all those disgusting emotions that they held in me, I really feel it, in my bones and it makes me feel so so sick. I just-" You brought your knees to your chest, gently leaning your forehead against them.

For the longest time, you felt as if you were drowning. You had been physically sick for the longest time after the incident with your legs. You had nose bleeds so often the scent of blood seemed to linger around you. You could barely hold down your food, skipping meals or rushing to the bathroom, to expel the contents of your stomach.

It only got worse after what happened to your arms and Yukio. Although it seemed like your body had accepted the alloy immediately. It hadn't. You started vomiting blood, feeling such excruciating pain when the alloy started to spread into your bones, through your veins, forming it's own nervous and muscular system. There were days you couldn't even leave your bed, head spinning to the point you couldn't tell reality from dreams.

Those were the days you had simply locked your door, knowing the others would be worried and accept your mourning. Yet, it was so much deeper than that because a part of you felt as if you deserved this for what had happened to Yukio.

You were scared. What if he wrote you off or laughed at you? For being so weak? You couldn't even take absorbing a couple curses? What if they were right, everyone else, your past friends, your parents, what if you really were just pathetic and weak-

You froze when you felt Getou's hand on your head, looking up at him with eyes glazed over in gold.

If there was one person you understood your feelings better than anyone else, it was Getou. The feeling of swallowing curses was so disgusting to him. He despised it more than anything. Even worse when absorbing them into your being. He knew how you felt first hand. The only difference was that he could get rid of that feeling by releasing them and you... could not. They were truly a part of you.

"Ah, right, right, I need to, to say something else. My body- has a built-in network of gems and gold. I don't know how to explain it but it's like a, a nervous system. It covers my bones and everything, then it crystallises to stop bleeding- that's why-" you decided showing him was better than trying to explain.

You grabbed your finger in one hand, taking in a deep breath when you snapped it off. Getou's eyes widened, watching how the previously exposed muscle and bone was covered with gold in a split second to stop the bleeding.

You then chipped away the thing layer of gold before placing your hand back against your hand. Immediately, liquid gold repaired the crack. You moved your finger, tilting your head to look at Getou.

"Doesn't it hurt? Doesn't it have any negative effects?" Getou asked, looking at it in surprise.

"I- if, if it's a lot of my body and I can't get it back- like, my consciousness, I think, I don't know, but it lives in the crystal. So whenever I lose parts of my body, I lose parts of myself, I- I start to forget things, names, people, places, I- it does hurt. Alot." Your voice went soft, a tear running down your cheek before you could stop it.

"Then don't use it. You're powerful enough without using that part of your Cursed Technique, and if it's hurting you, then stop. Even if you're fighting and feel like that's the only way to win, ask for help. One of us will always be with you. Because if you do use it, even if you win, it won't make up for what you lose."

As you looked at Getou, although his voice was gentle, you could tell he wasn't actually there with you. He seemed to be reliving something in that mind of his. Eyes out of focus as he gently patted your hair.

Getou was saying to you, things he wished someone could have said to him all those years ago. Not those exact words, heck, maybe not even anything close to that. But all he wished for at that time was for someone to hear him and tell him it would be OK. It wouldn't fix anything. The path Getou was to walk on was fixed, predestined from the second he was born into this cruel world. But perhaps, it could have delayed the inevitable or helped him enough to not blame himself.

"Getou - san..." Tears built up in your eyes, gold trailing down your cheeks, and that seemed to bring Getou back.

"There, there, it's OK. We'll just be careful, Phosphophyllite only has a hardness of 3.5 after all." He teased, gently patting your hair. He couldn't change the past, but he could choose his future, and that's all that mattered.

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Ode to the Winter.

Phos!Reader x (Platonic) Nanami Kento

Warnings: Mentions of Haibara, Yukio's death, grief, reader blaming herself, general angst, reader is at Yukio's grave, just Nanami and reader being sad

Notes: surprise double update!!! Also, Purple Hyacinths symbolise regret in the language of flowers.

Your tears seemed as if they would never stop, the gold permanently staining your cheeks. You were knelt at Yukio's grave once again. Kneeling against the grass as you stared at his headstone. You would have thought that after the first 5 visits, you'd get over it, but every time you saw his grave, the tears fell endlessly.

You heard footsteps behind you, freezing as you kept your head down, hair barely long enough to shield your face. You were surprised to see Nanami. It had been a while since you'd seen him.

Nanami had been your sensei for a period of time. He had been Yukio's sensei, and in turn, yours when Gojo sent you off to be with him for patrols. Nanami was probably the person closest to Yukio during his time at Jujutsu Tech. He never got along with anyone, after all, even his fellow 3rd years.

Nanami knelt down, head bowed as he placed a bouquet of flowers. White Carnations, white lilies, and purple hyacinths. Your tears fell harder.

"This child," He began, startling you, "he was always closed off. He never had many friends."

You stayed silent. He was right after all, Yukio had always been a loner.

"But, after you were paired together. He changed. It was subtle, but he smiled more. As his teacher, I will say thank you in his place. He always thought of you fondly. Don't blame yourself. These things just happen sometimes. You're also a child, don't try to shoulder this burden alone. Rely on your teachers more, we're adults. Don't cry alone."

Nanami's words resonated in you as you stood up, still looking down, streaks of gold dripping down your chin and onto the grass.

"Nanami - Sensei. I'm sorry." You began. You didn't know whether you were apologising for trying to handle this alone, apologising for blaming yourself, apologising for not saving him, apologising for everything that had happened. But you simply felt like Nanami deserved an apology.

You cried harder when you felt Nanami place his hand on your head, crying loudly as he stared up at the sky, eyes glazing over.

History repeated itself in the worst way, he feared. You were to Yukio, what Haibara had been to him. Now the tables were turned, and you both found yourself missing a part of yourselves you'd never find again.

[sunoorintarou]

Catharsis: Polaroids.

Phos!Reader × (Platonic) Gojo Satoru

Warnings: Gojo being himself, Gojo being concerned about the reader, probably the fluffiest part so far, still pretty sad, mentions Phos' defection at the end, brief mentions of Haibara, Riko and Geto.

Notes: The urge to post like 5 parts of this a day😔 I'm tryna pace myself and like post once a day but I already have like 5 more parts done, perhaps I like this idea more than I thought😭 maybe I'll post mini snippets about phos, like a Playlist or smthn to listen to while y'all read, idk, might add songs to certain parts? Expect me to post about Catharsis and Catharsis only for a while tho💀

"Gojo - sensei?"

Gojo turned to face you, seeing your silhouette in his doorway. He almost wondered if this was a dream, pulling up his blindfold to look at you. It had been a good few weeks since you'd approached him, approached anyone for that matter.

"Y/n! My beloved student, it's been so long." He grinned, standing up and running to you comically. You didn't move, letting Gojo wrap his arms around you, forehead against his chest. You didn't hug back either, however.

"Ah, I know this is sudden, but could you do me a favour?" You asked, bashfully.

"Of course! Now, what does my lovely, precious, adorable student need?" Gojo used his animatedness to hide his concern and relief.

"Can- can you go out with me?"

Gojo paused, eyes widening as he pretended to blush, fiddling with his hands and swaying like a school girl.

"B- but, you're my student, that- that isn't allowed." He said shyly, batting his eyelashes at you.

"Not like that! I just want to go to a store." You huffed in annoyance.

This was how you found yourself walking through the crowded streets with Gojo, in search of what you were looking for.

"What are we looking for anyways?" He asked. Although you hadn't noticed, Gojo had been using his cursed technique nonstop since you left Jujutsu Tech. He refused to take any chances.

"You'll see." You sighed. It was winter. The air was cold, and your face was practically buried in your scarf, hands stuffed into your pockets. You hadn't worn your uniform in a long time, settling on sweatshirts or one specific hoodie Yukio had leant you that you never got to return.

Gojo watched you, noticing the little changes in your appearance. You had gained confidence and strength, back straight and head high, the jacket you were wearing looking ever so slightly less oversized than it had before. You were always covered from head to toe, your body composition something you often found embarrassing, not to mention hard to explain to normal people.

Watching your back as you walked in front of him, Gojo really noticed how things had changed. You had never previously walked in front, always settling for standing back and walking in silence next to Megumi.

You were an awkward but energetic kid. Always smiling, always happy, watching out for the group, making sure no one was left behind. You had reminded him of a girl he once knew, one he had failed to protect. And a cheerful boy who used to hang out around Nanami.

Now, however, you reminded him of someone else. Someone who had meant the world to him. His one and only best friend. And he refused to let you walk down the same path as him.

Your eyes lit up when you noticed the shop you were looking for, stopping in front of it. You looked at Gojo for a second, handing him your bag.

"Please wait outside with this, sensei." You said. And with how bright your teal eyes were in that moment, Gojo couldn't say no.

When you left the store, you had a plastic bag, the contents still concealed. You led Gojo across the street, to the park, letting him watch you in curiosity as you began opening the box inside the packet, assembling whatever was inside.

You had your back facing him, feeling embarrassed as you rushed to put what you had bought together. It was going to snow soon, and you had to be quick.

"Sensei! Y/n!" Gojo turned at the voices, eyes widening when he saw his other students returning from a mission.

You finished just in time, holding up your brand new camera and taking a picture of the moment Gojo noticed them. Capturing their smiles and excitement in the first snow.

Although Gojo and the others hadn't realised it, you had built up your resolve. Your fear of forgetting everyone had built up, and now you had found your solution. Even if you did forget their faces, you would never forget the way they made you feel.

Not even a year later, however, Gojo could only question what was going through your mind. Your room was empty and clean. Bed made neatly. And in the centre, was the only part of you they had left, your camera. The memory card was still in it, full of photos of everyone and everything from your team to Shoko and Nanami. Photos of everyone's birthdays, of a cat you had seen that reminded you of Gojo, of Nobara's favorite crepes, Megumi's demon dog, Yuji's disgusted face after he had eaten one of Sukuna's fingers. And a note on a piece of white paper was on top of it, with only the words: Thank you.