#cork 2019 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thiniceofeternalyouth · 11 months

Text

MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER FIVE

SHADOW BEHOLDER

⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader

series masterlist

Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.

Chapter warning&tags : ooc, mentions of human trafficking, mentions of drugs, profanity, mentions of alcohol and smoking, slight yandere themes (if you squint);

Words count: ~10.5k

⊲ previous next ⊳

[July 3, 2019; 07:02pm; hunter's headquarters]

Cumulus torn clouds floated breezily ahead framing the overcast sunset in the distance, and something dark stretched out on the horizon; it was unclear whether it was the peaks of the sunset-shadowed mountains, or a dark long cloud. The breaking sunlight colored the damp haze rising from the sea orange, and the sight of it made her eyes ripple. Or maybe it was the wine.

Rachel walked drunkenly down from the rock outcropping toward the cliff holding a bottle of wine in each hand high above her head. Her feet tripped over every little rock or tiny notch, but she'd rather smash her face than the bottles of red semi-dry.

Sitting on the sunbaked grass, Shoko looked at her sympathetically. She took another drag and let the tart smoke of the cigarette billow out of her lungs to freedom. "Alcoholic."

Rachel clumsily plopped down next to her and placed the bottles on the ground as neatly as possible. "Hey, ya actually drank more than me."

"Unlike someone, I know how to drink," Shoko put out her cigarette on the ground and threw the butt into the fire pit. "Did you bring a corkscrew?"

Rachel leaned on her arm squeezing her flushed cheek and drunkenly clucked her tongue. "Shit."

"Let's do old school then," Shoko said handing Rachel a bunch of keys.

Rachel took the keys accompanying the action with a respectful oblique nod. "As ya say, my queen," She began picking at the sawdust cork with the key edge trying to push it inward. Once Rachel had the point about halfway into the cork, she covered the key with her palms and applied force to push it in, and at that moment, a red liquid enveloped her hands and face.

"Elegant," Shoko said rolling her eyes irritably.

"But it worked," Rachel chirped wiping the wine from her face with her sleeve. "Gimme your glass."

Rachel poured the alcohol into wineglasses and leaned against a ribbed rock gazing out at the burning sun. The sound of the wind-disturbed forest could be heard behind them, and the waves crashing against the rocks tried in vain to reach their feet.

Rachel took another sip and turned back to Shoko. "Ya know," Rachel said stretching her words drunkenly. "When I first saw ya, I couldn't even imagine ya being quite the outgoing person."

"Guess I'll have to put your name on my list of people with stereotypical thinking now," Shoko said deftly pulling another cigarette from the pack.

Rachel pouted her lips and gave the most contrite look possible. She realized from Shoko's raised eyebrows that she'd gone a little overboard. "Forget it," she snatched the cigarette out of Ieiri's hands and took a drag.

"Listen," Shoko turned around and looked back at the windows in the cliff. "Are there really so few hunters? I thought it was us who had manpower problem."

Rachel shook her head slightly fearing more dizziness. "Old generation hunters live in Hopetown, and our higher-ups just put the voidrunners away from everyone else. They figure that if the dioreacts planning a large-scale attack, we'll be the first ones to get hit, since we've trespassed on their territory."

Shoko could no longer make out the clear lines on the horizon, the rainy sunset blurring into a gray-orange mess. She set her glass aside and rested her head unashamedly in Rachel's lap staring up at the sky. "Well, the hell is the old generation for?"

"To level up and learn to enter the void, hunters have to put your consciousness through isolation. Not everyone is willing to do that, so they stick to the old ways," Rachel rested her head on the rock gazing upward with Shoko. "I can't even tell ya what exactly is going on in isolation because when maintainer escorted me through, I didn't even realize it. It was like fingers snapped and something changed inside me."

Shoko hummed skeptically. "Not everyone is willing to spend a second of their life to become stronger? So much for nonsense."

"Who knows how much time we actually spend in there? Only maintainer feels time in isolation," Rachel said exhaling heavily.

"And I still don't see it as a big deal."

"Coz ya only see survivors," Rachel said and completely forgetting about the glass reached for the bottle. One must either avoid unpleasant conversations or drunk them down. "Most of hunters who wished to become voidrunners died before they were able to enter the void. Their consciousnesses were lost in isolation. Or they dissolved there, dunno. "

"I see," Shoko said coldly. She was twirling her auburn curl around her finger out of old habit. "Your higher-ups have gotten comfortable. Putting people through isolation and the only ones who managed to survive are shooed away like lepers to take the hit."

Rachel chuckled softly pressing the bottle to her flaming cheeks. "They're not the ones leading us in. The higher-ups don't really like us at all, or maybe they hate the very idea of entering void. Not much difference. They think that doing it this way we only make dioreacts angrier, and endangers the rest of hunters. So they give us more work between raids making us get rid of demons the old-fashioned way. They're mad as hell."

"Then who leads you out?"

"Uh, it’s-" mumbled Rachel stuttering. The cloud on the horizon began to thicken with as much force as the air around the girls. "It's Y/N’s doing."

Shoko immediately stopped playing with a strand of hair. "You mean- you're saying that she-" she stammered trying to find the right words. "I'm sorry if I misunderstood you, but what you're saying is that she k-"

Shoko's face turned red. Not from shame, not from embarrassment, not from anger. It was from spilled wine. The bottle slipped out of the drunken Rachel's hands, and the remnants of the alcohol ended up on Ieiri's face. "God, Shoko! I'm sorry!" Rachel frantically tried to wipe Shoko’s face with her sleeve.

"You're not drinking anymore today," Shoko muttered sullenly, rising from her seat and fighting off Rachel's hands.

"Come on, it looks better on ya," Rachel pointed out slyly. "You look really sexy."

"Shut up."

"Speaking of sexy!" exclaimed Rachel, unable to keep her interest in check. "Do ya date a lot?"

Shoko stared at her in amazement as if she were insane wrinkling her nose slightly at her tactlessness. "And when am I supposed to do that? Between patients and filling out paperwork? And anyway, ever since I contacted the doc, I don't even have those five minutes to spare."

"I refuse to live in a house with so many workaholics," Rachel protested. "Come on, not going out at all? And you don't even, well, um... You don't even relax with anyone?" asked Rachel shamelessly scrutinizing Jeri's discouraged face. "Not even with Gojo? Come on, you've known each other for about fifteen years, there's no way there's nothing going on at all!

"Ew!" squeaked Shoko, and Rachel blurted out a smile pleased that she had finally seen a little more than Shoko's usual cold look. "Just shut up. No, nothing happened. And it won't. It's like sleeping with a relative."

"All right, all right, I believe it," a still radiant Rachel softly stretched out. "By the way, where's that troublemaker?"

"No idea," Shoko said resting her head in Rachel's lap again.

[July 3, 2019; 07:16pm; Tokyo Prefecture, Tokyo, Bakery N]

The small bakery decorated in muted yellow colors was filled with the smells of freshly brewed coffee and ruddy crisp dough. On the wall behind the cash register, there were small boards on which the names of confectionery products, it’s prices, and the day's promotions were handwritten in multicolored chalk. A pretty salesgirl in a funny yellow beret was chatting with the customers advising them and helping them to make a choice. Only the sorcerer squatting in front of the glass display case for baked goods and paying no attention to anyone frowned annoyingly.

No matter how rarely you were home, you always made time for Gojo. You made time to send massage to him and ask if he was all right when he was on a mission. Every time you listened to his endless stream of chatter, and if he did something ridiculous or violated your personal boundaries, he never heard a sigh of annoyance from you. Gojo had never heard you hold a conversation in which he was being bad-mouthed, whether it was in jest or in truth.

With you, he felt as if he was understood. Whether it was because you were in similar positions in life's vicissitudes or something else, he did not know. It didn't seem to matter to him.

After all, you found out and memorized some of his features before you even met him, while he didn't bother to find out what kind of sweets you like for six months.

Indignant at his own neglect he squeezed his cheeks with his hands with vigor continuing to stare at the display case under the oblique glances of the visitors, paying them no attention.

At the end of the dark corridor on the second floor, someone’s lonely silhouette sat on the floor outside one of the rooms.

The door one of the rooms clicked open. As you left Danielle's room, you glanced at his drooping form barely visible at the other end of the hallway. You quietly closed the distance between you and Gojo and sat down across from him as carefully as you could.

Drawing attention to yourself was not part of the plan, but not leaving a man wallowing in reflection in a strange place was a matter of principle.

He was used to stares, but the way you did it seemed too shameless. Your gaze was straightforward and, if only it were not a play of imagination, surprisingly soft.

"What is it?" he grinned softly. "The first time we met you refused to even look my way, and now you can't take your eyes off me. Am I that handsome?"

"Ya know," you squinted your eyes as if evaluating something. "I think you'd still be handsome even if you had your eyes pulled up on your ass."

Gojo bit his tongue and his chest began to convulse. "What-" barely opening his mouth he hissed with a gasping laugh. "What kind of compliment is that?"

"I'm trying!" you blurted out indignantly, looking at the way he hid his face in his palms trying to calm down.

"Yeah, I really appreciate it," he said on an intermittent exhale wiping the corners of his eyes.

"Uh," you began hesitating. "What ya doing sitting here alone at this hour?"

He stretched his legs out casually, but avoided your gaze carefully. "Your beds are too soft. And pillows are rough," he said with an indifferent shrug. "And I can't open a window to air out the room because of loud sound of the waves."

"Got it," you said stretching the words teasingly. "If it's that bad, you can sleep in my workroom. I've got a firm mattress and air conditioning, too. About pillow...," you paused for a second, thinking. "Guess for a princess like ya, I might as well go to the store and get a proper one."

"Hey," Gojo snorted unhappily, gently nudging your thigh with his foot, to which you chuckled softly. He sat there hesitating, unsure how to take your words, but he wanted to believe it was a sincere suggestion and not a simple sneer. "Did you...," he coughed, hearing the hoarseness in his voice. "Did you really mean it?"

"Would I mock a man who sits in the hallway looking like a stray puppy?" getting another poke in the thigh from him, you gave up. "I really meant it. If ya can't sleep in your room, come and sleep in workroom if ya want."

"What about you?"

"We've got a bunch of unoccupied rooms here," you put up your hand gently, pointing down a long hallway. "Still, sometimes I work nights filling out paperwork and all that other bureaucracy, so if you're in the workroom, you'll have to put up with someone's presence and the clacking of keys paired with the squeak of a pen."

"That's how," he mumbled and felt his fingertips burning hot. "Anyway, I like having something... buzzing under my ear. I'll graciously accept your offer, but only if you promise me you won't stare at me much while I sleep."

"Nope," you shook your head stubbornly. "I'm sorry, I can't promise that."

Gojo sat back and tried to suppress a smile, not even thinking about the fact that he might look like an idiot.

At the end of the dark corridor on the second floor, two someone's non-lonely silhouettes sat on the floor outside one of the rooms.

When the salesgirl finished serving another customer, she gave Gojo another confused look. It wasn't often that one met a man so unusual and attractive. "Sir," she addressed him and noticed with fear that her voice had cracked with excitement. She coughed quickly. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Huh?" Gojo absentmindedly raised his head. He blinked and stretched out to his full height and walked to the cash register, causing the salesgirl to look embarrassed. "Actually, you can. I'll take the whole thing. Two servings each, please," he said bestowing her with a welcoming smile.

The salesgirl was confused by such an order. "You mean everything at all? Even carrot bread?" she asked in a stammering voice.

"You know, I'll take one carrot bread, though, I guess," he said mentally noting that he definitely wouldn't eat that.

The salesgirl pulled a roll of craft paper from under the counter and placed it on the table, then began wrapping each dessert in it with shaking hands. She thought the man was glaring at her back, but his eyes were actually fixed on his phone. He'd texted you asking if you were home, and waited patiently for a reply.

Gojo was brought out of his detached state of reality by a girl's voice. "Uh, sir. That'll be 39721 yen, sir," the salesgirl mumbled as she placed six stuffed paper bags on the counter in front of him.

"Sure," he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and counted out the bills. Gojo was already grabbing the handles of the bags when the salesgirl, redder than usual, handed him a small piece of paper folded in half. He looked at the girl questioningly. "That's my phone number."

"Oh," he said grinning slightly. "Sorry, but-"

"No, no, it's nothing!" she rambled in a stammering voice, tucking a piece of paper into her pocket. "It would be foolish of me to think you aren't dating someone. Have a good day, sir."

"Till next time," he said over his shoulder already heading for the door.

[July 3, 2019; 07:16pm Kumagaya, Saitama Prefecture, Bar N]

Each step leading up to the underground bar made a rusty creak in your footsteps, and the room itself was more like a warehouse than a public place. Metal round tables stretched along one wall, and a bar counter stood opposite; behind it, shelves of alcoholic beverages illuminated blue gave the bar a dank atmosphere.

A chubby, rosy-cheeked girl whose hair was tied with a pink bandana was vigorously scrubbing the surface of the bar. She deftly lifted vases of nuts and cutlery stands to clean the dirt beneath them.

"Lu!" you called out to her in greeting. As soon as you took a step toward her, the customers looked up at you. It seemed like it wasn't just the blue lighting that made this place cold.

She tucked a rag somewhere down under the counter and waved at you, beckoning you over to the bar. "Hey! Long time no see," she smiled pulling one of the snack vases toward you.

"I've got my hands full," you said sitting down on a high stool and placing the airtight small container you'd been holding the whole time on the bar. "I see ya business is booming. Lots of visitors," you shook your head lightly over your shoulder looking slyly at Lu.

"I work here day and night! Can you imagine how frustrating it would be if it didn't pay off?" she said pouting her lips.

You pulled the vase of snacks closer to you. "It would pay off. It's not the alcohol that draws everyone here, it's ya charisma."

Lu's already rosy cheeks turned crimson, and she waved you off carelessly. "Flattery gets you nowhere."

"It helps me sneak in anywhere," you chirped popping a peanut into your mouth. "Any news?"

Lu looked at you as if you'd took her at gunpoint. "Y/N, you know... the longer we spend in this state," she wrapped her arms around her shoulders squeezing them slightly. "The less we feel for others. It's like we become separate individuals and... You know. Humanizing."

Her behavior made you frown. "Lu, why ya acting like I'm threatening ya?"

"You are a hunter after all," she mumbled quietly to herself.

"And ya're an insider. We're not touching ya. Even if ya don't have any information," you tried to sound as soft as possible, but it came out like you were telling the girl off. "I just have one question. Ya don't know anything about the creature that calls itself Rei?"

The corners of Lu's lips quivered, and she squeezed herself even tighter in the embrace. The air in the bar had gotten so thick, it felt like you could grab a fork from the bar and stab it. Lu's whole look screamed that she didn't want to enter that state.

"Okay, I'm leaving-,"

"Wait!" squeaked Lu causing you to sit back down. "Uh... What does the body he's wearing look like?"

"Well," you stretched the word out furtively peering into your memories. "A man, somewhere in his late thirties. Face perpetually smug. Moronic grin. Black hair, a couple strands of gray. And a hu-u-uge scar across his face."

Lu squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she could. Her fingertips were slowly, as slowly as the sun walks across the sky, crawling in ugly black patterns. Her abruptly opened eyes became blacker than the worst night and began to dart from side to side; Lu herself stood motionless, not even her chest heaved as if someone was forcefully squeezing it.

After a moment, she closed her eyes again and suppressed the demon in her with a sharp intake of breath. She looked up at you and bit her lip in frustration. "I'm sorry, I can't find it. But maybe you can get help from someone else," you threw her a questioning look as she gibbered to herself. "But he's not an insider, so there's a chance he won't want to talk to you.

"Who is he then?"

"Just a dioreact," Lu shrugged. "As far as I know, he's trying to live a normal human life and has nothing directly to do with the kidnappings and murders, but... He's kind of helping demons get in touch with people who, you know... Trade drugs. And people. Maybe that's how he got in touch with Rei."

"Where can I find him?"

"He has his own auto repair shop on the outskirts of Tokyo, in the Edogawa ward," Lu said taking a pen out of her pocket and writing something down on your hand. "He closes at eight at night, so you'd better hurry."

"Thank ya for your cooperation," you chirped covering the written address on your wrist with your sleeve. "And these are for ya," you said sliding the container closer to her.

"You shouldn't have," Lu muttered embarrassedly, hesitating to touch the container.

"Ya don't always have to steal from hospitals," you said looking slyly at Lu. You reached into the container and opened it, pulling out a single bag of blood and stowing it in your backpack. "I hope ya don't mind if I take one with me," the girl nodded silently at your words. Turning around, you were faced with the same cold stares that greeted you here. One of the visitors' eyes were black, and he held a glass to his mouth tapping away nervously at it with his finger. "See ya, guys!" waving goodbye to them, you ran out of the cold bar towards the warm air.

On the outskirts of Tokyo countless tangled wires of transmission lines dangled from poles so low that they gave the impression of an urban spider's web. In one of the narrow streets, dilapidated buildings with unglazed balconies greeted you; on one of these, a man with a cigarette in his teeth was hanging clothes after washing; on another, an elderly woman was shouting to someone at the end of the street that dinner was ready.

The phone vibrating in your pocket distracted you from contemplating the everyday life of local people.

[07:21pm] Gojo Satoru: mochi

[07:21pm] Gojo Satoru: u home?

[07:23pm] You: nope

[07:24pm] Gojo Satoru: where r u?

[07:27pm] You: I'm busy

[07:27pm] Gojo Satoru: I asked where u r, not whatcha doin dummy

[07:31pm] You: got a couple things to do in Edogawa ward

[07:31pm] Gojo Satoru: there's a metro museum in that ward, u know where it is?

[07:32pm] You: yep

[07:32pm] Gojo Satoru: I'll meet u there in an hour

[07:32pm] Gojo Satoru: no, in half an hour

[07:32pm] Gojo Satoru: don't be late

You stared at the phone screen for a while wondering how a person could contain so much impudence. You came to your senses when you heard the echo of someone's booming laughter from the back alley. A group of guys came around the corner talking loudly and gesticulating vigorously. You glanced at them, and your gaze fell inadvertently on the frail little man the young men had passed. The man was pushing the heavy metal gates; they yielded to him with a heavy, long creak. He finally closed them and wiped something off his forehead with his dirty sleeve; you were already standing near him.

"Closing already?" you asked glancing at his hand, which was desperately trying to find something in his pocket. "It's not eight at night yet."

"I apologize," he smiled nervously, greeting you with a quick bow. "Family emergency."

"I see," you said nodding your head understandingly. "Too bad, my car's been needing an emergency inspection for months now."

The man finally pulled a key out of his pocket and awkwardly tried to get it into the keyhole. "A car? What car?" he hiccupped as if suppressing a hysterical laugh.

You looked around the narrow street and only now realized that there were no cars here, which made you cluck your tongue annoyingly. "Well, that was awkward."

He finally locked the gate and without looking in your direction, he took a quick step away. You followed him. "I just want to ask ya couple questions!"

"Leave me alone!" he shrieked, and despite his feet stumbling over everything he could, he broke into a run. As soon as the man turned into the alley, his eyes widened and he immediately stopped: you were already walking toward him from there. With a desperate shake of his head, he turned around and wanted to run back, but you were in front of him again.

He rushed down the street, and you exhaled tiredly as you watched him.

The man kept running. He ran and looked around frantically. His blurred vision merged the whole landscape: houses, bushes, signs. He wouldn't have stopped if it hadn't been your hand that yanked him sharply by the scruff of his neck into one of the alleys.

Standing behind him, you squeezed his neck with one hand and with the other you pressed the edge of the dagger against his carotid artery. "Just a couple questions," you spoke in a low whisper. "Or I'll send ya to judges," hearing the last word, a ragged sob escaped the man's lips. He nodded, and you immediately let him go.

You waited for him to cough and come to his senses. You pulled a bottle of water out of your backpack and handed it to him, but all you got in return was an incredulous look. "Whatever," you said putting the bottle back away. "Straight to the point. How long has Rei been in contact with you?"

"I didn't- I-" he tried frantically to force the words out. "Last fall."

Was it normal for Rei to stay out of contact with this creature for so long? "Ya sure? Maybe he just changed bodies?"

"I don't know if he changed his body!" the man wailed hysterically. "But I do know he hasn't contacted me all this time!"

"Okay, okay," you said throwing up your hands at the man's sudden outburst. "Ya don't have to yell like that-"

The man slid down the wall holding his head with his hands. "I didn't do anything wrong," his muffled sobs could be heard. "I was just trying to live in this condition."

A skeptical grimace appeared on your face. "Oh, really? Aiding and abetting slave traders and demons out of the goodness of your heart, too?"

The man raised his head and gave you a panicked look. "They threatened me! They threatened to kill my wife and child!" with every word he uttered, your eyebrows crept upward. "Or rather... This body's wife and child. But that doesn't change anything," struggling to utter the last words, he wrapped his arms around his head again.

"What am I hearing? Have human feelings been nurtured?"

The man's shoulders shook. He tried to wrap his arms around himself as if trying to maintain control. He raised his head again. "You don't understand how much we can feel!" he bellowed in your direction. "We didn't choose all this! We're being merged with bodies not of our choosing! But we want to live too. Even if it's just... like this."

"So that's what this is all about," you hissed looking him in the eye. The man sitting on the pavement already looked tiny, but something made him shrink into a lump. "I was wondering, since ya care so much about your wife and child, why ya didn't just surrender to the judges right away," you covered your eyes and tried to regain your breath. When you opened them, you gave the man another dark stare. "Ya know, there's absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to live. Just don't ya dare cover your selfish ass with good intentions," you reached into your backpack again, and rifling through it for a bag of blood, threw it at the man's feet. "Thank ya for your cooperation," after throwing out the words through your clenched teeth, you disappeared around the corner.

All that was left was to get to the Tokyo Metro Museum.

It was quiet here in the square. The museum staff had long since gone home, having turned out the lights throughout the building. You stood in front of the glass doors trying to see either the dark room or your own reflection.

He was late. You were standing in the square at the main entrance of the building right under the blue sign shuffling from foot to foot with fatigue, and he was late. No call, no message.

The ground heated by the day's sunlight was already starting to cool down, which made you shiver a little and finally pull your phone out of your pocket to dial his number.

"Still looking for me?"

The sound of the voice came from nowhere, but it was everywhere. You pulled your head away from the screen of the phone to look at the reflection of the glass doors. There was no one behind you.

"Don't turn around," you thought to yourself. "Just don't turn around."

"Pet."

If the feeling of rage was something tangible, it would definitely be a liquid. A liquid that you squeezed and put into a steel box, but that voice just drove a thousand sharp nails into that box like a hammer, forcing the liquid out.

You turned around.

You turned around and bumped your forehead against the concrete wall. Your side vision caught the flicker of a dim light bulb, which made a clicking tinkling sound. "I guess I fucked up," you exhaled disappointedly and turned around, thus creating a shuffling sound. The light bulb went out and all that was left in your ears was the ringing from the silence that came. There was an positive side to the darkness: the walls which seemed about to crush you were not so visible.

You stood like that for another minute letting your eyes adjust to the darkness. The long corridor with wall openings at various distances screamed that you were in a maze.

"Relocate."

You remained standing still. "Sure," you thought to yourself rolling your eyes irritably.

[July 3, 2019; 08:06pm; hunter's headquarters]

Music played softly in Megumi's room. The sound of the melody was occasionally interrupted by the sound of the pages of the book Danielle was reading on the bed. Megumi was sitting on the floor beside her looking at something on his phone screen.

Danielle had to reread the paragraphs over and over again because she couldn't concentrate on the text because of her poorly concealed excitement. She threw another fleeting glance at the boy and jerked her foot awkwardly, causing her to stiffen. He hadn't noticed, had he?

Megumi locked the screen of his phone and set it aside. "Dany?"

"What?" she squeaked, her voice hoarse with trepidation. She put her hand to her mouth in horror and pretended to cough.

"You okay?" the boy inquired leaning his head back on the bed and examining her.

"Y-yes," Danielle mumbled awkwardly tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "The air in the room is just dry. I should at least get a humidifier. So what did ya want?"

"How much longer do you think the hunters will let us live here?"

The girl rounded her eyes. "Why on earth would ya even have such thoughts? No one is chasing you out of here."

"Dunno. I wouldn't wanna overstay my welcome."

"I think you're the only one who thinks that," Danielle said with a giggle.

It seemed to Megumi that they had really stayed here for a long time. On the other hand, all he could think about was how much he wanted to stay here at least a little longer. That's how his thoughts darted from one to the other creating confusing coils. "Aren't you, uh, going to get in trouble with the higher-ups for this?" he asked nervously rubbing the edge of his t-shirt.

"They don't seem to have shown up yet. I think even if there is a problem with them, the elders will handle it," the girl assured him.

Megumi nodded briefly, but that wasn't all he was interested in. He nervously held onto his index finger, which had blackened for the tenth time in the last six months. "Dany, listen. What's your technique?"

"Technique?" she asked absentmindedly dimming her gaze. "We honestly don't have such concepts."

"I meant abilities," Megumi explained as carefully as possible, feeling the tension building up in the room.

"Ah!" exclaimed Danielle in relief. "I don't have a pronounced ability yet, Y/N haven't put me through the insolation yet," she eyed Megumi's frowning face with an edge of her eye. "It's to increase the body's conductivity for dark energy. Growing a new sense organ or something like that."

Megumi only squeezed his index finger harder. "What abilities are there anyway?"

"Actually, there are quite a few. Some are mandatory, and others you only learn if ya feel ya can handle it. Well, also each ability can either be specifically targeted or diffuse."

"And then what are the mandatory ones?"

"Relocate and regeneration," Danielle said as if she were reading a textbook. "Relocate not only allows you to teleport from point to point, but also to enter the void."

"And the others?"

"There really are a lot of them, I can't list-"

Megumi couldn't keep himself quiet. "At least tell me about the ones you know about."

"Well... let's say our Doc. Though regeneration is mandatory, he has it at a level that no one else can reach. And that's despite the fact that he's never been through isolation and has been high conductive since birth. Also with his replication ability, he can replicate anything, even configurations of atoms. So with severed limbs we run straight to him," the girl tried to joke, but the awkwardness created in the room seemed like it could be gobbled up with a spoon. "Uh... Well, or Rachel. One of her powers is tranquility. She can stop whatever processes are going on. From photosynthesis to uranium decay. Also, when she makes tranquility diffused around an area, it gives the impression that time has stopped there!"

The girl finally saw a fleeting smirk on his face. "You know, that sounds cool. Is there anything else?"

"It's actually really cool because the use of each ability is limited only by your imagination, so spin it however ya want," Danielle mumbled softly, trying not to hesitating over her words. His fleeting smile stood before her eyes. "Y/N uses shading. You know, she can use dark energy to make photons absorbed and reflected from her body transform into shadow ones. Kinda invisibility."

"We rarely see her anyway," Megumi said exhaling noisily. "And all of you- uh, you can't catch curse energy at all?"

"Nope," Danielle said having long since forgotten about the book lying right in front of her nose. "But honestly, ya could show it to me."

His cheeks turned slightly pink. "How?"

Danielle's second burst of courage ended as soon as she wanted to enact what she'd planned. "Uh, ya know," she said in a stammering voice and slid off the bed trying to hide her trembling knees. She sat down across from him. "Would ya mind folding your palms like this?" she interlocked her palms, leaving a space between them. He obediently closed his hands and didn't dare to raise his gaze to her.

She glanced at his hands, a concerned exhale escaping her chest. "Megumi, what's wrong with your finger-"

"It's fine. Doc said it's just a side effect of the treatment. It'll pass soon," he lied without blinking an eye. A quick change of subject was necessary. "So what did you wanna show me?"

"I-I'm honestly not sure it's going to work out well, I'm still just a student after all," Danielle muttered excitedly. "You can release a steady little stream of cursed energy, right?"

"Sure," he tried to nod his head, but from the side it might have looked like he was having a muscle spasm.

"Okay, then on the count of three do it," she covered his hands with hers. "One," he felt her warm skin. "Two," he closed his eyes because he didn't want to embarrass her by looking at her. Didn't want to embarrass himself even more. "Three," he wished there was a window open in this room because the waves would muffle his hitched breath.

They released energy at the same time.

Whether only a minute had passed, or whether time didn't exist at that moment at all. He wanted to touch her a little longer, but her voice made him open his eyes. "Ready?"

"Ready," he said on a quiet exhale.

She slowly spread their palms apart. There was a butterfly. It was barely visible, one wing slightly larger than the other, but it seemed beautiful to Danielle. "It worked!" she squeaked quietly, pleased with the result. With a flap of its absurd wings, the butterfly rose into the air and flew toward the window.

"Where is it going?" asked Megumi absentmindedly.

Danielle chuckled. "Ya didn't think she'd stay with ya forever, did ya?" She admired the butterfly that perched on the window. He admired her profile. Admired it so long that he surprised himself when the fingers of his hand gently touched her cheek.

Danielle turned toward him. She looked scared and confused, but he couldn't find the strength to took off his hand from her cheek. "Dany," he whispered softly. "Can I ki-"

They were pulled away from each other by the sharp sound of the door swinging open. "Guys!" exclaimed Itadori. "Doesn't anyone wanna go to movies?"

"GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" shouted Megumi disappointedly. He jumped to his feet and started shoving Yuuji out the door.

"Hey, this is actually my room too!"

Your eyes had finally gotten used to the darkness allowing you to move around without any problems. Pros: there was a light source coming in from somewhere outside and reflecting off the surfaces. Cons: it was not a pleasant environment.

Every time you looked away from the concrete walls, the straight construction joints seemed like curved ugly grins. You were followed by the echo of a shrieking noise that sounded like the singing of cracking ice somewhere in the middle of the Arctic. You kept moving forward not letting the sound catch up with you.

Upon reaching a dead end, you turned right.

The noise kept up. It seemed more and more insistent and faster. You quickened your step, and it began to sound louder, closer. You furtively glanced at the walls making the ugly smiles you'd imagined disappear.

It's a dead end again. You returned to the opening and turned right.

There was the distant sound of the wind rushing in panic in the blizzard. A loud long rumble followed another crackle.

One thing that reassured you was that you didn't hear footsteps in front of you or behind you. Though that couldn't stop you from glancing behind you from time to time.

When you reached the fork, you turned right.

Something warm felt on your earlobes. Warm and viscous. You touched your ear, and when you looked at your fingers, you saw something dark on it.

Your gaze went back to the road.

There was someone coming at you. It was walking slowly, barely moving his feet. You absentmindedly tried to stare, straining and squinting your eyes. A long curly lock of hair fell over the silhouette's face. It came closer and closer, and a blank, open gaze was directed at you (or through you).

It wasn't Rachel.

You backed away, turned and rush away from there. As you glanced behind you, you had the creepy realization that it hadn't made any attempt to catch up with you; it was still following you, slowly but surely.

This behavior is inherent in a creature that already knows where you're going to be wherever you're going.

You found yourself in another corridor. The only thing left to do was not to rack your brains and always turn to the right, trying not to listen to the next crackle of ice.

The surroundings didn't change even after a hundred turns and seven blisters on your feet. Another dead end on the horizon made the growing lump of irritation inside you burst out with a jagged exhalation. You turned around to walk back to the missed opening, but just as you were one step away from your goal, a tall figure stepped out from behind the corner, forcing you to retreat a few steps. White hair was visible in a glow even in the darkness.

You were already walking in the other direction when a voice called your name. The familiar cracking and howling sound stopped, replaced by silence. The abrupt transition from one to the other was as painful as simply having the first. You grabbed your aching ear and clenched your teeth.

Gojo's hand gently touched your shoulder, and you were finally relieved. "Are ya real or what?"

A sly grin appeared on his face. "What is it? You see me so often in your dreams that you can't tell the difference?" he murmured softly, leaning closer to your face.

You paid attention to his provocation. Something else was more important to you right now. "Ya alright?" your concerned voice made him stiffed and leave no shadow of his previous smirk. "No one touched you? You didn't see anyone?"

"Uh... no?" Gojo mumbled incomprehensibly, puzzled by either your questions or your anxiety. "Should I?"

"Look," you nodded pointing somewhere behind his back. Out of the darkness, step by step, came the outline of a man in a familiar black uniform, and dark strands of hair falling over empty open eyes.

He swallowed. "It's not Megumi, is it?"

You shook your head. "Nope," and with that, you took his hand on automatic heading in the other direction away from the creature. "How did ya even get here?" Gojo didn't even hear your question, all but staring at your interlocked hands. "Hey," you snapped your fingers right in front of his face.

He perked up. "What did you say?"

"I asked you how ya got here."

"I was approaching the museum, and then I heard someone's voice. It seemed weird, like it was coming out of my head. I just turned around, and I bumped into a concrete wall...I think?" Gojo rambled on trying to line up the memories in his head in a coherent row.

You continued to wiggle between the openings. "Well, we are two idiots," you chirped summarizing.

"This is not how I wanted to spend this evening," he said with annoyance in his voice pouting his lips.

"Well so did I. When I followed the right hand rule I wanted to find a way out and I found you," you said with a shrug. "Life is full of disappointments. Get used to it."

"Rachel was right, you're just a little bully," his dramatic tone came out overly deliberate again. "And actually, I'm kinda glad we ended up here," Gojo clucked his tongue. You still couldn't get used to his quick change of demeanor. "You finally took my hand. Look," he lifted your clasped hands, and you stared at them in amazement as if you hadn't initiated it. You immediately unclenched your fingers and tried to pull your hand away, but Gojo only gripped your palm tighter with his fingers. "Nope, no way. Get used to it."

"Okay, I give up," you said squeezing his hand again.

Your touch made him forget his teasing remark that you should have done this from day one. There was no way to suppress the excitement. He urgently needed a distraction. "Listen, who are those creatures?" asked Gojo pointing a finger somewhere behind your backs.

"I've never encountered them myself yet, but Frank told me about something similar," you mouthed thoughtfully, looking behind you. "They're kinda like mimics. Just following in your footsteps. I wouldn't really wanna to find out what happens if they get to us."

From the far doorway someone stepped out. A red collar could be seen in the darkness.

"Is there no way to kill them at all?" he asked feeling an unpleasant tingling in the back of his neck.

You threw the dagger that appeared in your hand toward the creature hitting it squarely in the forehead. The mimic vanished in a cloud of smoke. "Does that look like it's fucking dead?" you asked rhetorically, a frown wrinkling the bridge of your nose. "I think it just showed up somewhere and is headed our way again."

"Do we have a tracker hanging on us or something?"

"It's possible. Unlikely ya've ever looked under your skin."

Gojo shuddered. "It won't take long to become paranoid with you."

"Welcome to the club, buddy," you said chuckling merrily. "That's why they're not running after us. There's no point in us hiding anyway, so they're just biding their time until we're exhausted."

"And your sorcery doesn't work here?" Gojo asked taunting you.

"One would think you're still here for some other reason."

He pretended not to hear you as he continued to tease you. "I thought I'd really met someone strong, but sorry. You are weak."

You bit your lip to keep from cracking a smile. "You're right. But take responsibility," your voice softly shifted to a whisper. "I'm weak only for ya."

You were so unfair. So unfair that Gojo swallowed his words and walked beside you silent, occasionally touching his burning cheeks.

For a while, you walked on in hush turning right at dead ends; only your footsteps could be heard. Only yours?

You stopped short a dozen feet before reaching the next turn.

"Something wrong?" he asked worriedly, squeezing your hand lightly.

You drilled your gaze to the right wall. "Do ya hear that too?"

Gojo fell silent. He tried not to breathe. He heard someone's footsteps behind that wall advancing towards the opening. "Mimic?"

"Mimics don't make sounds," you shook your head accompanying the sound of footsteps with your eyes. You perked up and turned around to him peering into his eyes. "Wanna go for a jog?"

***

After a couple of hours, at least some difference was waiting for you around the next corner. Albeit the same concrete and empty, but still spacious room, from which there were only two exits - the one from which you came and on the adjacent wall. Is this what the center looks like in normal mazes?

"You're not even breaking a sweat," came an indignant panting exclamation from behind you. "When you said 'jog', I thought it would be a light jog, not a marathon."

You glanced behind you. Gojo was standing bent over and resting his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. "I think we outrun 'em. Let's take a little break," you said heading to the far corner.

You both sat down on the cold dusty floor. You took off your backpack and started to fish out something from the contents. After a while, you handed him a bottle of water and a chocolate bar. It wasn't much, but it was all you had.

Gojo hesitated shifting his gaze from the provisions to you. "What about you?"

"Don't worry," tired of holding your hand with the groceries, you placed them in his lap. "I've got more. I'm not hungry yet anyway."

Frustrated thoughts of six irretrievably lost bags of baked goods popped into his head. Awkwardly twirling the bottle in his hands, Gojo opened it and took a couple sips draining half of it. "Do you have any thoughts?" he asked opening the chocolate wrapper.

"Well," you began trying to pull your thoughts together. "We're kind of still on Earth. Light gets through here, and it's not easy to create an alternate light source, and we were here in literally seconds, so... We haven't turned to bloody dust yet, so the atmospheric pressure is the same, we're breathing normally, we're not off the ground. So whatever this place is made of, it's limited to Earth settings."

"Sounds soothing, but it's no use," Gojo muttered chewing on a piece of chocolate.

"That's actually pretty good," you tried to reassure yourself. "No idea about elsewhere in the universe, but we don't have measurable continuous quantities here in physics. Everything around us that appears to be continuous is not."

Gojo crumpled up the chocolate wrapper and tossed it somewhere in the darkness. "You definitely have a screw loose."

Again there was the familiar notes of delight in your voice. "Well, not me. More like the creator of quantum theory," while you chattered to yourself, Gojo kept staring at your profile. Staring and unable to find the strength to tear his eyes away. "All that remains is to capture the moment itself. I don't know what it will look like, of course. It's hardly a portal or a breach."

"What is it then?" his voice came out softer, more quietly. Against his will.

You shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe it's something that's out of place. Something foreign. But so far all we've encountered are walls, walls, and more walls." You turned to him and he immediately turned his head away. "Ya can rest for now. There's no telling when another opportunity will present itself. I'll keep an eye out," you looked around at the two exits.

Gojo hummed looking at your legs. It would be a crime not to take advantage of the opportunity. Without hesitating, he rested his head on your lap. "You're not going to make me sleep on cold concrete, right?"

"Yeah, right," you grinned and made yourself comfortable leaning against the wall. "Ya know, it's dangerous for you to be with me," Gojo only snuggled harder into your lap. Whether it was true or not didn't bother him at all. "I mean, we got here at the same time, but you said you didn't bump into anyone. So the mimics are here for me."

Oh. So you meant the maze. "Nah, that's okay. You can stroke my hair if you want," Gojo murmured sleepily, not specifying that he wanted it himself.

Your hand was immediately in his hair. You were gently scratching the shaved back of his head with your fingertips, and he was half asleep, unable to resist the goosebumps that spread up his spine. You tried not to lose concentration or look at him too much.

So you stayed there. Gojo peacefully asleep in the godforsaken place on your lap, and you watching the doorways intently; one of your hands running through his hair, the other playing with the dagger, deftly moving it between your fingers

Rachel tried unsuccessfully to make out the caller's name on the phone screen through her blurred vision. Completely desperate, she turned the screen toward Shoko and tapped her finger on the phone.

Shoko raised an eyebrow, but still read the caller's name. "It's Frank."

The spoken name literally made Rachel come to her senses. She answered the phone and straightened her back as if he'd walked into the room. "Hey, dad," she said loudly and distinctly-embroidering each word.

A disgruntled snort was heard on the other end. "Young lady, how much did ya drink?"

Rachel exhaled in astonishment. She wanted to lay her head gently on the table, but she miscalculated her strength, and a dry loud thud rippled through the room. "Just a little bit."

"If this keeps up, I'm going to talk to higher-ups about cutting your funding," the bass in the receiver was so loud Rachel had to tear the phone away from her ear.

"Actually, we're not financially dependent on them anymore," Rachel drunkenly stammered.

"Then I'll talk to Y/N about it," Frank didn't relent.

"Dad-"

Rachel interrupted his angry tone. "Cut it out. I have no desire to watch my daughter drink herself to death. If ya're not thinking of yourself, at least think of your son."

She suppressed the sob climbing to her lips with her hand, pretending to cough it out. "Got it."

"Good girl," Frank's voice became an order of magnitude softer as did his heart. "How are the others doing?"

"Kyle's in raid, Y/N's missing again."

"As soon as they get home, tell them to call me," the man said worriedly and at times like this he sounded especially parental. "By the way, I'll be sending a replenishment to ya soon," he added in between.

"What?" muttered Rachel grudgingly. "More students?"

"No. One of the hunters expressed a desire to join the voidrunners. I fought the higher-ups out of him, they wouldn't let him go," Frank said grinning unkindly. "The only thing is ya'll need to train his stamina and then take him through isolation afterward."

"Ya talk about it like it's a shopping trip. Anyway, one person? Ya serious?"

Frank took a deep breath. "Don't take your frustration out on me. Anything is better than nothing. The kid's twenty years old, name's Issu. Unsociable, but he knows his stuff. Even without isolation he's doing well, so don't get upset early."

Rachel nodded, oblivious to the fact that the person she was talking to was not sitting in front of her. There was a second's silence on the other end of the line.

"One more thing," Frank finally broke the silence. "How are things going with your coworkers?" he sounded casual, but that was what alerted Rachel.

"Well... fine, I guess?" she said as cautiously as possible. "Why?"

"It's just... It's just that some of the higher-ups still aren't thrilled," Frank's casualness was immediately replaced by indignation as soon as he said the phrase aloud. "Quote, 'hunters haven't messed with such the dirt yet'."

"Dad," muttered Rachel wrinkling her nose. "What are they gonna do to us? Let them say what they want as long as they don't crawl out of their holes."

"Fine," Frank said trying to push the feeling of anxiety away. "Make sure you tell those two to give me a call. Love ya."

"And I love ya, too. See ya later," Rachel said and hit the disconnect button.

She looked up from the phone and was surprised to see Shoko staring at the living room. Following the direction of her gaze, Rachel also stared at Mei-Mei, who was seated on the couch watching TV. She was wearing nothing but a oversized light-blue shirt.

"And here I thought people like her could afford at least one set of pajamas," Rachel mumbled disappointedly, getting up from the table. "I'm going to bed," she waved to Shoko and headed for the second floor.

Shoko glanced at her, watching carefully to see if Rachel would trip on the steps. When she heard the door slam, she turned to Mei-Mei. "Is it so hard to follow the rules of this house?"

"Does any of the rules here have any legal force? I don't think so," Mei-Mei said winking slyly at Shoko.

"Change your clothes," the doctor said sharply.

"I won't," Mei-Mei cooed. "This gift means a lot to me."

"I have no idea what you're trying to accomplish," Shoko said getting up from the table. "But I do know that when someone takes someone else's stuff without permission, it can hardly be called a gift."

Mei-Mei chuckled softly. "It's just an unnecessary circumstance for no one."

"Watch out that you don't pave your way to grave with these circumstances," Shoko mumbled indifferently as she walked up to the second floor. Her voice grew quieter with each step she passed. "I wouldn't piss off the locals if I were you."

"How dangerous," Mei-Mei whispered hiding a smile beneath the fingers pressed to her lips.

"..., hey."

Either in a dream or in reality, a hand gently stroked Gojo's cheek. He fidgeted in his half-slumber trying to get comfortable, holding something soft against him. It would have continued like this until someone forcefully flicked him on the forehead. He jerked his eyes open. The sudden realization of where he was made him jump up.

"Morning, sleepyhead," you said quietly, holding out a water bottle to him.

He took a couple sips, and then wiped his eyes. "Morning," he muttered in a hoarse voice. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. It's just that we should get going. You've been asleep for three hours, so they're probably getting close to us by now."

In the darkness, you saw the outline of his round eyes. You grinned thinking that Gojo was stunned that he'd slept so peacefully in such a place for so long. He thought about the fact that you had actually been sitting in the same position the whole time so as not to disturb his sleep.

Gojo stood up stretched out to his full height kneading his stiff limbs. "Impressive," you whistled getting up from the ground and looking at his figure.

"Listen," he began in a still sleepy voice. However, sleepy thoughts can often be delusional, full of illogic, but in your situation, every one of them could fit. "Isn't that us?"

"Huh?" you stopped shaking off your feet and raised your head to look at him. "What do ya mean?"

"You said a breach is something that's taken out of the setting. Isn't that us?"

Something cracked. You wished it was an insight, but it was the floor beneath your feet. A few inches away from you, the ceiling collapsed at once raising a cloud of dust and dirt blocking your already meager view. You glanced down; the floor was literally breaking into pieces and falling into the void. Your head snapped up sharply and you darted from side to side, desperately trying to find Gojo amidst the cloud of concrete dust in the chaos of the falling ceiling and breaking floor. Your pounding heart wasn't calmed, but nearly burst as someone's hands clamped you down to chest shielding you from everything.

You opened your tightly squeezed eyes when the noise of destruction finally died down. The summer breeze touched your dusty hair. The smell of burnt wood, peppermint and something sweet hit your nose. Gojo still held you close to him.

You stood in a small square in front of glass doors and a there was a blue sign above you. "Gojo," you called out softly, grabbing his forearm. "We're in the middle of the street."

"No," Gojo mumbled stubbornly into your shoulder, clutching you obstinately in his arms. "We're still in the maze."

You suppressed a chuckle against the fabric of his sweatshirt. "Let's go home already."

***

Already changed into your pajamas, you stood in the bathroom brushing your teeth. You were holding a coaster in your hand, and you looked at it in surprise: there was another toothbrush in it. You hadn't noticed it before. How long has it been here?

"Weirdo," came a voice. Gojo stood leaning against the doorway watching as half the toothbrush evaporated somewhere in your mask. "I still can't figure out if it's the mask, or if it's just that you have a freakishly huge mouth." Gojo walked over to you and took the toothbrush from the coaster, and you set it back down with a clatter.

The only sounds in the bathroom were the water running from the faucet and the rustle of brushes. You weren't used to someone else standing next to you in the bathroom. Gojo was not used to having someone else standing next to him in general.

But you were learning.

"Nice pajamas," he muttered inarticulately from behind a mouthful of toothpaste, peering at you and your pajamas with the funny little avocados through the mirror. "Staying in the workroom tonight?"

You spit the toothpaste into the sink. "Yeah, I need to get some more work done," you said and wiping your face with a towel walked out of the bathroom.

You went to the desk and opened the bottom drawer pulling out a stack of blank sheets. Sitting down in your chair, you tossed it onto the table; your eyes caught the folder where the stack had fallen.

"How much longer you gonna work?" asked Gojo taking a seat next to you.

"Ya wanna sleep here? I'll try to keep it short," you replied picking up the folder with Rachel's recent raid report.

"That's not what I'm talking about," he muttered awkwardly shifting his intertwined.

"Meg, put the kettle on, please," you said running your eyes over the lines.

The voice that answered you was full of indifference. "Put it on yourself."

Muttering sarcastic words of thanks to yourself under your breath, you wanted to get up from your chair, but his hand came down gently on your shoulder stopping you. "I'll get it done," Gojo stood up and headed towards the kettle; once he was at the target, the kettle clicked on and turned green. "What, does everyone in this house have a similar sense of humor?" he exclaimed splashing his hands indignantly. You only shrugged guiltily.

The kettle finally boiled, and he set the mugs on the table. You stared in horror at the sixth sugar cube he was throwing into his mug.

Gojo handed you a cup of hot fragrant tea. "So kind of ya," you said leaning back in your chair and putting your feet up on the table. Your gaze drifted back to the report.

There were warm and insanely soft red socks on your feet. Gojo stared at them watching you clench and unclench your toes. Cute. "Your socks are nice too," he commented taking a sip from his mug.

You tore yourself away from the papers throwing a glance at your feet. "Thank ya," you chirped. "I always match my socks to the color of my underwear."

A mechanical voice cut into your conversation. "You're not wearing any underwear right now."

In the silence that hung, you phlegmatically wiped the tea off your face, which Gojo choked on. "Thanks for input," you muttered and turned to him. His face was red from intense coughing. Or so you thought. "Need help?"

"N-no!" exclaimed Gojo in a hoarse voice moving farther away from you.

"Okay," you said with a shrug.

You put the report aside and started filling out blank papers. Finally coming to his senses, he caught a glimpse of you writing about today's incident. "Y/N," you responded with a nod of your head. "Do you know the person who led us there?"

"Yeah," you replied dryly, continuing to trace out the letters on the paper.

Gojo bit his lip nervously, not knowing if he could go a little further. But testing the waters is not criminalized, is it? "Who is he?"

"My teacher, if you can call it that," you said crossing out some word and crumpling the piece of paper.

Gojo looked at you spitefully. "What? You were trained by a demon?"

"Can you imagine?" you exclaimed softly under your breath. "Life in general is an amazing thing."

Your behavior only misled him more. He gripped the cup tighter in his hands. Gojo wish he could keep his temper in check, but he didn't even know what pissed him off more: the information he'd gotten or your indifference. "He called you a pet," behind the pile of papers, you didn't notice the pouring disgust in his voice.

"He had a lot of strange habits. Never mind," he saw you rub your collar as you said it. It was high even on your pajamas.

The cup he was clutching in his hands cracked.

You turned at the sound. Gojo was holding a mug covered in tiny cracks; it looked like it was about to fall apart. "Put it neatly on the table. I'll clean it up later."

"You really wanna talk about fucking mug-"

"Look," you cut Gojo off halfway through tossing your pen wearily on the desk. "I need to write it all down," you tapped your fingers on the stack of paper. "And at least half of it will be scribbled about how sweet you sleep and how loudly you snore. So whatever it is, let's have a chat about it later," your voice sounded lower due to exhaustion. "Go to bed, 'kay?" you added more softly.

"Whatever you say," despite the anger in his chest that you hadn't noticed, he wasn't about to leave the workroom. On the contrary, he walked over to your bed and leaned on it tiredly, holding one of the pillows to his chest. Gojo had never seen you sleep here, and yet the pillow smelled like you. He burrowed his face deeper into it, leaving only his eyes to steal glimpses of your image. With each deep exhale, he calmed down little by little. You were here, with him, in the same room.

"Good night, boxy."

"Good night, mochi."

His eyes closed involuntarily. Falling into sleep, Gojo left behind those days in which the forecast had promised him endless rain and an eternally lonely room.

next ⊳

45 notes · View notes

sinceileftyoublog · 1 year

Text

Say Anything Interview: Intentional Is My Default

Photo by Nicole Mago

BY JORDAN MAINZER

I'm waiting back stage at Riot Fest for Say Anything's Max Bemis to finish a photoshoot, one that sees him lie in the grass in various positions that make it look like he's stretching after a tough workout. Despite the fact that he hasn't yet gotten his real workout in yet--his newly reformed band would go on stage in a few hours--and that this photoshoot is full of capital-p Poses, I'm taken by how at ease Bemis seems with everything. When we speak, he reveals to me that, yes, while he did in fact feel awkward during the photoshoot--most of us do--he's learning to lean into his feelings much more naturally.

Five years ago, the legendary emo band disbanded, with their 2019 album Oliver Appropriate billed as their final LP for the moment. A purported sequel to their beloved sophomore record ...Is A Real Boy, the album was publicized in conjunction with a nine-page letter from Bemis, in which came out as bisexual and admitted to struggles with drug use. (The frontman has long been open about his diagnosed bipolar disorder, previous self-medication through drugs, and manic episodes.) During the pandemic, Bemis stayed busy, performing livestreams of older material, but there was always lingering doubt the band's hiatus would become permanent.

It wasn't until late last year that Bemis dropped that the band would be reuniting for festivals in 2023. In typical nonchalant fashion, he shared that the reunion would include past members drummer Coby Linder and bassist Alex Kent by replying to someone's comment on a Facebook post. In April, the band released their first new material since Oliver Appropriate, the maximally stream-of-consciousness rant "Psyche!". The song sees Bemis laying out those same struggles for everyone to bear witness to, blaming himself for his personal, marital, and familial problems atop a bevy of references to the band's older material, Titanic, and Riot Fest itself. "By Riot Fest '24, I'll be coughing up corks if you supply the Malörk," he sings, a line that's instantly iconic and bound to be infamous for its satiric misspelling of Chicago's shot of choice. In August, the band followed it up with "Are You (In) There?", which also establishes itself within our emo universe, with mentions of Sunny Day Real Estate and mewithoutYou, but a more personal ode to Bemis' wife and the love they have for each other despite his past actions and shortcomings. And just this morning, Say Anything annouced ...Is Committed (Dine Alone), their new record, along with a single entitled "Carrie & Lowell & Cody (Pendent)", Bemis placing his "mommy issues" in conversation with those of indie folk luminary Sufjan Stevens. The song is musically heavier and more complex and full-throated, while also containing gorgeous choral harmonies from Bemis' wife, Sherri Dupree-Bemis.

At one point, the future of the band was a mystery to everyone, Bemis included. But with some newfound perspectives, the musical and personal influence of new band member Brian Warren of Weatherbox, and therapy, it seemed from just the short conversation I had with Bemis and Kent that they're in a good place, ready to embrace their new chapter. Read my interview below, conducted last month before I knew about their new album, edited for length and clarity. Catch the band three nights next week at The Regent Theater in LA and at When We Were Young in Las Vegas next weekend.

Photo courtesy of Say Anything

Since I Left You: How does it feel to be back?

Max Bemis: It feels great. I don't think I would have decided to write the songs again if I didn't aspire to how this feels now, which is very different than our experience as little kids being in a punk band, which was very intense and an experience I wouldn't trade for anything. But this is comfortable, and it feels like having the best job ever, in the words of Piebald. It could have been a stress fest, anxious, or bad, but the only reason I wanted to write again was to reach for this thing that we never got to settle into, being dads approaching 40. The bands we looked up to were doing it at that age and still making inventive music but still seeming to chill and not base their entire personas and aspirations around being in a band. I think I appreciate it more now that I'm not trying to be "a guy in a band" as hard as I was.

Alex Kent: Something we've been talking about since getting back up and running was the transition from utilizing it as an escape versus a form of healing. Because we've been through so much traumatic shit in our lives, most of the time Max and I talk, we talk about therapy. It's fucking weird going from 18 years old on a tour bus to having that self-awareness and reflection.

MB: I didn't need it like that for many years because our entire life cycle was keyed in to being on tour. I wasn't living a normal person life. I'm not saying I ever have really or ever will--I wrote comic books for five years. That's still weird. We're still weirdo guys. Having a family, coming out of that kind of circus, I feel more like my 14-year-old self who needed this music for that reason.

SILY: The new songs have a self-aware quality.

MB: More than ever.

SILY: How do you include the self-awareness in a set at a festival or concert, where you're literally referring to other songs you're playing in the setlist?

MB: We refer to Riot Fest itself!

SILY: And Malörk [sic]

MB: And Malörk. It's incredibly self-referential and ironic, but because the band started that way, it's come full circle and is no longer ironic at the same time. There's still a lot of exaggeration and bullshit, but it's closer to me saying actual things that are happening. As you age, everyone's life becomes a circus, more surreal. The world has been very surreal, with COVID and Trump. You kind of have to say your inner experience now. It's an emotional, crazy, surreal thing anyway. It's not like before, when I said, "I have to think about my ex-girlfriend, but I'm thinking about my wife, and what the fuck is this about?" Now, this is about being at Riot Fest. And I am at Riot Fest.

SILY: There is a song about your wife, though.

MB: Yes. Also quite literal. So many emotions are certainly exaggerated, but the sincerity isn't. The love for my wife is very real. But even there, if you're in any successful relationship, it goes through the most intense rebirths and reformations, and you're adjusting to each other, especially after having kids. It's more potent to me to say what's happening or what my emotions are than do what we did on In Defense of the Genre, where I was literally forcing drama into my life on a regular basis. Now, I have no room. I'm tired. I have children to look after. The drama just happens from kids, life, everything. It's real and heartfelt, but a seasoned emotion and not so adolescent. I still love those songs, and I relate to them, but they all speak to a certain side of me I can't live out anymore.

SILY: Do the new songs more than ever exemplify the idea that the more personal you are, the more universal the songs can be?

MB: Yeah. But probably by being a little too hyper-specific. That's why I fell in love with this kind of music. Saves The Day got me into wanting to be in a band. What wowed me was when he was talking about the names of the other band members in song, like, "Ted's drooling on his sleeve." He's just saying he's in this New Jersey bar and he misses his girlfriend. He's not cloaking anything. Our thing has been a kind of parody of that, but now I don't have to stretch anything for it to be a parody.

Photo by Ben Trivett

SILY: What do you think Brian Warren brings to the table on the new songs?

AK: I've known Brian since we were 9 years old. Our very first band, we were in together.

MB: I wouldn't know about Weatherbox if it wasn't for Alex.

AK: He brings this calming energy. Humble is a weird word to describe him.

MB: It's accurate.

AK: Weatherbox is fucking amazing.

MB: He has more impostor syndrome than even me.

AK: He can play everything, and he writes cool shit.

MB: He's a virtuoso. The cool thing about Brian is that there's always been a connection between our bands. It's similar to me playing music with [Chris] Conley [in Two Tongues] back in the day. It's surreal, but it makes so much sense that you don't have to think about where he fits into the sonic picture or personality picture because we're friends.

AK: It's very cool how much sense it makes.

SILY: Has your relationship changed to your old songs?

MB: I like them more. Over the break from the band, I would listen to Say Anything, with my kids or in my car, alone. The way I severed it was so intentional. I wasn't saying, "The band was over." I was saying, "We're probably going to get back together, but I have to sever this incarnation." I was listening to [old Say Anything songs] and thinking, "I like Alex's bass part. I like the production. I even like my voice." It was like listening to another band, because of the space. I've grown to like them. I definitely know people in bands that are not what they listen to, but Say Anything has always been a conglomeration of the type of thing we listen to. If I'm going to listen to The Get Up Kids, I might as well listen to Say Anything.

SILY: Moving forward, are you trying to continue to be more intentional, or do what feels best?

MB: Both. I know that's cliché to say, and it does and doesn't make sense. I find that intentional is my default, and before, I would second-guess myself constantly. Now, I allow myself to make mistakes, and I let other people give me advice that before were such cerebral trips. There was a lot that weighed on me. If the lyrics are super intentional and literal, I'm just going to do it. If I feel awkward in a photo shoot like right now, I'm just going to be awkward in the photo shoot. That is, of course, my safe and happy place in life.

youtube

14 notes · View notes