#i see your worry and i wonder if you'll be as worried after ch 10 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lostfracturess · 5 months ago

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remedies and reasons | ch. 01

pairing — professor geto x law student reader

summary — this wasn’t supposed to happen. not that miserable internship at the law firm you hated, not him becoming your doctor, and definitely not that drunken night at the bar. but he helped, and god, you needed a friend. and he did too. except it's never just friendship with him, is it? it could be perfect—messy, complicated, but perfect. if only his heart wasn’t already taken.

important — this story is a spin-off of symptoms and causes, starting right after chapter twelve. while it can be read as a standalone, reading the original story first will give you a better understanding of the characters and story.

word count — 10.3 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, age difference (10 years), doctor-patient relationship, fwb, smoking, mature themes, angst, and depictions of illness (will update as the story progresses). reader discretion is advised.

author's note — hey friends !!! i'm so thrilled to share this new story with you, even though i said i wouldn't write two stories at the same time (oops!). this chapter covers mostly chapter twelve of symptoms and causes from suguru's pov, then introduces our new reader protagonist. if you haven't read the original story, some dynamics might be confusing initially, but i hope you'll get the hang of it. remember, you're the law reader here. at the start, there's a different reader (the protagonist from symptoms and causes). i'll note at the beginning of each scene to clarify. now, i'm so excited to hear your thoughts !! reblogs and comments are love <33

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(note: s&c reader)

"You okay?" I asked, cutting through the tense quiet of the operating room.

Her eyes snapped to mine, the usual focus returning. "I'm fine," she said, gaze drifting away as a small frown creased her brow. "Sorry."

I watched her for a moment longer, unable to tear my eyes away. The soft curve of her cheek, the tender worry in her eyes — a painful reminder of what I could never have.

I wondered what she was thinking about. What occupied her mind like this. What could distract her from a surgery she normally loved with her whole being. But deep down, I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

The familiar ache in my chest tightened as I steadied my hands, focusing back on the aneurysm pulsating beneath my fingertips. The world shrunk down to the surgical field, the beeping monitor and harsh lights fading away. Just me, her, and the delicate dance of our hands.

"Want to continue?"

She blinked, clearly taken aback. "You want me to clip it?"

"It's a gift," I replied.

"Gift? From who?"

I merely arched an eyebrow.

I didn't really need to say it aloud, did I? She knew.

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to her gloved hands. I could see her biting her lip, even beneath the mask. Doubt clouded her eyes, a flicker of insecurity that I rarely saw.

Stupid girl.

Of course you can do it. You've done it before. Don't lose your focus now.

"And because I trust you," I added, my voice softening. "I wouldn't offer if I didn't."

Her focus snapped back to the exposed aneurysm with an almost palpable intensity. Her jaw set. "Okay," she said simply.

There she was. That's the woman I knew.

I moved to stand just behind her shoulder, close enough to monitor her every movement yet giving her the space she needed to work. She slid seamlessly into position at the microscope, her hands sure as they picked up the instruments.

"Focus," I whispered. "You've got this."

Watching her work was a bittersweet torture.

Her hands moved with a grace and precision that belied the complexity of the procedure, each movement precise yet unhurried. She was brilliant — a natural talent with an instinct few could match.

Except, perhaps, one person.

As she prepared to guide the clip into place around the bulging aneurysm, I couldn't help but feel proud. She was incredible and she didn't even seem to realize it.

"Do you ever think I'm... reckless?"

Her question, barely a whisper, caught me off guard.

I flinched, gaze snapping to study her profile. Her hands didn't falter, her focus unwavering. But I could see the question linger in her eyes.

Why would she ask that? Had Satoru put that doubt in her mind?

"Should I be worried that you're pondering this while inches deep in someone's brain?"

"Forget it," she muttered. "Just a fleeting thought."

With a small, dull click, the clip snapped shut. She had done it, and flawlessly at that.

As I knew she would.

I let out a slow breath, not realizing until that moment how tightly wound with tension I had been. No matter how routine, those high-stakes seconds before clipping always gripped me.

"Well done," I said, watching the tension drain from her shoulders.

She glanced up at me, a genuine smile lighting up her eyes in a way that clenched at my heart. "Thanks, Suguru."

Oh, those eyes.

It pains me that it was him she was looking at with those soft, adoring eyes.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

The water stung, colder than usual.

I scrubbed my hands next to her, glancing at her from the corner of my eye. Lost in thought again. I could tell. Her movements were mechanical, detached, her hands pale under the harsh fluorescent light.

She was a mere shadow of her former self.

Damn it, Satoru. What did you do to her to get her this hollowed out? I wanted to put my fist through his face for the worry he constantly caused her. And the worst part was, she didn't even know the half of it.

I should tell her, right?

It was the right thing to do, to warn her about his failing liver, his addiction slowly eating him alive. She deserved to know, to be prepared.

But I couldn't. I'd made a promise. And he'd promised to get his shit together. But how much were those promises worth, really?

I know how this story will end.

I'd seen it play out too many times.

I cleared my throat, pushing the thoughts away. "I'm proud of you," I said, trying to break the silence.

"Huh?" She looked at me, confusion clouding her eyes.

"How far you've come," I clarified, trying to get the words out right, but they still sounded hollow. How could I tell her how damn proud I was of the incredible woman she'd become? "Really, you're doing a great job. With the surgery, the research—you have a great future ahead of you."

She gave me a weak smile, then turned her gaze back to her reddened hands.

She was trying to hold it together, I could see that. And it killed me to see her like this, struggling while I felt powerless to help shoulder her burdens. I wished she'd just open up, tell me what was wrong. But again, I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

"How are you doing?" I asked gently. "Really?"

"Holding up. Somehow."

I observed her closely. Even without her looking at me, I could feel the weight of her struggles pressing down on her. She was always so strong, so confident, but this was different. I'd never seen her so—broken. It was like the life had drained out of her. And it damn hurt.

"New semester treating you okay?"

Stupid question, I know.

"Bit stressful," she admitted. "I have to retake a few exams."

Yeah, and whose goddamn fault is that?

God, I'm repeating myself, but I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

I hate it so damn much.

"Listen, if you need any help—" I began, wanting desperately to ease her burden.

"Thank you, Suguru," she cut me off, shutting off the faucet with a harsh twist. "But unless you're offering to take my tests for me, I'm afraid this is on me."

She turned and reached for a towel, the action more frantic than usual. I watched her, frustration and helplessness twisting in my gut. I wanted to do more, to be more for her, but how could I when the one she really needed was — not me.

Truth was a bitter pill I had to swallow every damn day.

As she dried her hands, I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. I turned off the water. "I'm sorry things turned out like this for you," I said, the words almost painful. "But it's for the best, for him and for you. We did what we had to."

"Wait, what do you mean?"

I grabbed a towel. "Hm?"

"What do you mean with, 'we'?"

Shit.

I froze mid-movement, my jaw tightening involuntarily. Damn it, I hadn't meant for that to slip out.

Her eyes bore into me, demanding answers. "What did you and Satoru talk about that night? The night before the hearing? I know he was with you."

I remembered it all too well.

Satoru showing up at my door in the middle of the night, shaking, sweating, barely holding onto his sanity. The ethics committee wanting to see him bleed, the guilt eating him alive over dragging her down with him, his addiction — it all become too much.

He didn't know what to do, what the right thing was. And I helped him see reason.

Or at least, that's what I told myself.

"It's nothing important. He was confused, and I helped him clear his head."

"What does that mean? What did you say to him?"

Her hands gripped the edge of the sink until her knuckles showed bone-white through the skin. She wasn't going to let this go.

Damn it, how could I get out of this?

She deserved the truth, I knew that. But I'd sworn to Satoru I wouldn't tell. My mind raced, searching for an explanation, but the truth was, there wasn't one.

Damn it, Satoru. Why do I always have to clean up your messes?

"Tell me what the fuck you said to him!"

And then I saw it. A flash of hurt in her eyes, a vulnerability I'd never seen before. It shattered me. She was so hurt. My beautiful, strong girl was so hurt and there was not a damn thing I could do to ease her suffering.

Because she was with him.

And I was on the sidelines, forced to watch Satoru tear her apart piece by piece — until there was nothing left.

I hated it. Hated Satoru for causing her so much pain.

I couldn't take it anymore. Sorry, Satoru, but screw you and your lies. This was different, because she was different.

"Isn't it obvious?" I snapped, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "I told him to end this. That it would destroy you, and that he should take responsibility for once!"

She flinched, her eyebrows drawing together as she mutely shook her head. "You had no right. You had no fucking right to do that!"

No right?

Oh pretty, I know that better than anyone. But how could I stand by and watch her get dragged down with him? No. Not anymore. I refused.

"No right?" My voice matched hers. I hated how this entire wretched situation had me losing control, lashing out at her when Satoru was the one who deserved it. "And watch you both go down? Satoru was a ticking time bomb! It was better this way—better him destroyed than you dragged down with him."

"I had him, Suguru!" she shouted. "I almost had him trusting me enough, trusting us enough, to let me help him, damn it!"

I almost laughed, but it stuck in my throat. It hurt too much to see the hope still clinging to her eyes. "You're delusional. He can't change. You know that. It would always have ended like this."

"My god, I can't believe your audacity! You ruined everything!"

I ruined everything?

Maybe it wasn't fair of me, maybe my own feelings were clouding my judgment, but damn it, I couldn't watch this anymore. Not when I could still taste the embers in my mouth each time I saw the deadened look in her eyes.

I stepped closer, my jaw clenched. She flinched back, but I kept going. I'd watched Satoru hurt her too many times. I couldn't stand by any longer.

I had to shatter her delusion.

"You know how many times I've seen this play out? The promises to change? I've seen it too often. He won't get better, and I won't let him drag you under with him. Not you."

Her back hit the sink. I stepped closer, until I felt the sudden searing burn of her warmth radiating against me, the intoxicating floral notes of her scent filling my senses until I thought I might lose it from proximity alone.

My hand twitched, moving before my mind could catch up. I wanted to pull back, but I couldn't.

Fingertip traced the delicate line of her jaw, trembling slightly at the contact I craved so much. I fought the urge to let my touch linger, to commit every precious dove-soft plane and angle to memory while I still could.

"This is for the best," I rasped out. "You're young, brilliant. This—relationship with Satoru, it would have ruined you."

"Don't you dare," she hissed, eyes blazing as she swatted my hand away. "You have no right to decide what's best for me."

"Yes, I do. Because I was the one who got you here in the first place, it was my doing, and I—" My voice caught in my throat. "I don't want to see you hurt."

The silence that followed was deafening.

I couldn't look at her, couldn't bear to see the pain I'd caused reflected in her eyes. I'd done what I thought was right, what I believed was necessary to protect her. But in doing so, I had become the very thing I despised—a barrier between her and the happiness she deserved.

Perhaps I'd just screwed everything up even more. And it was killing me.

"Why are you saying this now?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

I wanted to tell her everything.

I wanted to confess the depth of my feelings, the months of silent longing that felt like a steadily tightening noose around my neck whenever I witnessed her happiness with him, the aching, hollow pit that seemed to consume more of me with every smile, every tender caress between them that I wasn't the recipient of, the gut-wrenching jealousy that flayed me from the inside out whenever she looked at him with those devastatingly soft, adoring eyes that held nothing but indifference for me, the—

Sorry.

I'll stop now.

It didn't matter anyway, did it?

The words wouldn't come.

I couldn't, wouldn't allow myself to cross that line.

All I could do was look at her, my heart splitting apart from the violence of my want with every beat. The urge to reach out, to pull her against me, was almost overwhelming. But I held back, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. I'd already done enough damage.

Then, my damned gaze flickered down.

Those lips. God, those lips.

Soft, slightly parted, the bottom one bearing the faint imprint of her teeth—a nervous habit I'd caught myself watching, savoring, hating myself for noticing.

How many times had Satoru kissed those worry marks away? How many times had I wanted to?

I'd lost count of the nights I'd lain awake, imagining her mouth on mine, her lips parting to gasp my name—not his. It was torture, this constant craving to know their texture, their heat, their taste.

It was wrong, so fucking wrong, to think about her that way.

But there I was, night after night, picturing those lips forming my name in a way friends never do. Dreaming of tasting them, feeling them, knowing them in every way I shouldn't.

And it hurt.

I sucked in a hard breath.

Sorry, Satoru. I can't keep this to myself anymore.

"You know damn well why."

I couldn't say it out loud, couldn't bring myself to admit aloud what she patently refused to see with her own eyes. No. I simply couldn't.

"No," she breathed. "You can't—"

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "Yeah, I know. You don't have to tell me that."

I already know that painful truth, pretty. It was a wound that refused to heal. I'd lived with that realization for far too long.

Suddenly, my pager blared, shattering the moment. Damn it. I cursed under my breath, pulling out the device. My face went taut as I read the message.

Yaga: Office. Now. Bring the student too.

That bastard. Why the hell did he want to see me now? And why her? Was it something Satoru screwed up again? Or something else? Did Satoru get the same message?

This couldn't have come at a worse time.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes searching mine. I couldn't meet her gaze. Not after I'd betrayed not only her, but Satoru too, with my stupid, selfish feelings.

"Yaga," I choked out. "Wants to see us. Now."

Our eyes finally met, hers filled with questions I've longed so much to answer.

"Why?"

"I...I don't know. But we should go. Come on."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

My foot tapped a nervous beat on the scuffed wooden floor.

Why was I so damn nervous? I knew Yaga's games, been through them a thousand times. But this felt different. Because she was here. And she shouldn't be.

A knot tightened in my gut.

He wouldn't bring up that topic again, would he?

I glared at Yaga, willing him to just spit it out already. My eyes flicked to her, sitting stiffly beside me. Her face was a mask. I wondered what she was thinking about. Was she thinking about what I said? Or about—no, I didn't even want to think about that.

I know, I know, I'm repeating myself.

I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

"So, shall we begin?" Yaga's voice finally cut through the silence, like he'd been enjoying our discomfort. Damn old bastard. "I've called you here to discuss a research project that I want you to redo."

He slid a folder across the desk towards her.

No name, just a mess of loose papers threatening to spill out. She picked it up, her brow furrowing as she opened it. Then her grip tightened on the file. I leaned closer to see what had her so tense, and my stomach dropped.

I knew that title.

Knew it better than anyone, except maybe the one person who'd written it.

"You want me to redo a study that was completely pointless?" she asked, her voice sharp.

"Yes," Yaga said simply.

"The results were inconclusive. A dead end."

"Your research held promise. Dr. Geto never failed to remind me." Yaga's eyes flickered to me. "Now, you have better resources, better support. You can refine it, perfect it."

Damn it. I should've kept my mouth shut.

Regret gnawed at my insides like acid. Regretted telling him what a brilliant mind she had, how much she deserved to be here—among the best.

Because she did.

She was a natural, something I'd rarely seen before, maybe only in Satoru. Hell, it was like watching a younger Satoru at work. And it hurt. It was painful to see so many parallels between them, knowing that I could never measure up to him in her eyes.

I'd brought her here because I believed in her. Because I wanted her on my research team, because I wanted to work with her. But now, I wasn't so sure.

Had I screwed up? Was I the reason she was in this mess? Had I brought her here only to watch her world fall apart?

I didn't want to admit it. Couldn't bear to be the cause of her pain.

I glanced at her, catching her eye. Frustration and confusion were written all over her face.

Shame washed over me.

It was stupid, I know. I shouldn't feel ashamed for recognizing her talent, for bringing her here where she belonged. She deserved it all. But I couldn't shake the feeling that without me, she would've been better off.

Without me and Satoru.

Her knuckles turned white as bone as she gripped the file tighter, then slammed it shut.

"That's not the point," she said. "My CAR-T Therapy research was theoretical, a mathematical model that was inherently flawed. All the best equipment in the world won't change that. It's a black hole."

Yaga leaned forward. "Listen, we have a generous donor. I think you met her at the conference? She took quite a liking to you. Her husband recently succumbed to this very type of tumor."

I knew it.

Yaga, the greedy bastard, never changed his stripes.

The silence was heavy, the only sound the insistent ticking of the clock on the wall. Her mind was racing, I could feel it. So was mine.

I must have spaced out for a second, because the next thing I knew, she was speaking again, her voice dangerously low. "You want to use me to exploit a grieving woman just to line your pockets?"

Yaga's mouth hung open, the smug look wiped clean off his face.

In any other situation, I would have laughed. She, a mere student, had managed to stun the all-powerful Yaga into silence. But the situation was anything but funny. Still, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. She was something else.

Suddenly, the door slammed open. I didn't even need to turn my head to know who it was.

"What the hell is going on here?" Satoru's voice boomed through the room.

Yaga's face hardened. "Dr. Gojo, what a... surprise. Here I thought you might have finally bothered to read your emails."

"Cut the bullshit, Yaga," Satoru spat. "This is a new low, even for you. Forcing a student, exploiting a grieving widow—have you no shame?"

Yaga rubbed his temples, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Dr. Gojo, your dramatics are exhausting. Do you understand the costs your actions have inflicted on this institution? A shred of gratitude, a willingness to shoulder some responsibility, might be a welcome change."

"Responsibility? You want to talk about responsibility? You're exploiting a woman in the depths of grief, using one of my students as a bargaining chip. What the hell happened to you, Yaga?"

The two of them went at it, their words flying back and forth faster than my eyes could follow.

Yeah, Satoru sure knew how to make an entrance. Not a trait that was always helpful in situations like this, because something in Yaga snapped at his words.

Yaga stood up so abruptly his chair screeched against the floor. "Happened to me? Dr. Gojo, have you considered the consequences of your reckless behavior? You're the one spiraling, and frankly, it's becoming unbearable."

Damn, these two were about to kill each other. Satoru should know better than to provoke Yaga like that. The old man was stubborn as hell. But so was Satoru.

I closed my eyes briefly, then stepped between them, forcing myself to sound calm. "Director Yaga, please. She's a student, her focus should be on her studies."

"Of course, which is why you and Dr. Gojo will provide your expertise. Your old lab is free to use, funds are secured, equipment at your disposal. You have free rein."

Huh?

I narrowed my eyes. As if that made it any better.

Satoru let out a bitter laugh. "Free rein? Or free rein to do as you please? Despicable, Yaga. Truly despicable." He leaned back, folding his arms. "And wasn't I suspended? Investigations and all that? But I suppose principles go out the window when money enters the picture."

"You have no right to dictate what happens here, Gojo," Yaga snapped, his composure slipping. "You answer to me. This research holds immense potential, not just for the university, but for the field itself. You will do it. End of discussion."

"Potential? Or is that just fancy code for fattening your wallet, Yaga?"

"Don't play dumb, Gojo. You, of all people, know exactly how the game is played."

"Don't. Do. This." Satoru leaned forward, his chest brushing against my hand as I tried to hold him back. "Involve her in your schemes, and I swear—Leave her out of this. Suguru and I can do the damned research, but let her focus on her studies."

"You're in no position to bargain. I can make things incredibly difficult for you, Gojo. Throw away all that potential, all that talent... it would be a shame, wouldn't it? But I am more than willing to do so if you prove uncooperative."

Smug bastard was really pushing it today.

He was nothing without us, and he knew it. This whole place would crumble without Satoru and me. We were the ones who brought in the grants, the prestige, the groundbreaking research. And yet, he treated us like we were disposable.

I pushed Satoru back, stepping up to confront Yaga directly. The urge to wipe that smugness from his face with my fists was nearly overwhelming, but I forced control over my rage. One hothead was more than enough for today.

Still, my words came out in a tone of barely restrained menace. "Director. Dr. Gojo has a point. This research will be a massive distraction. Her studies should be her priority."

"Yes," Yaga drawled. "I heard about her recent... setbacks." Yaga sank back in his chair and opened his laptop. "A failed practical exam, a theoretical test barely passed. And this isn't the first time, is it?"

He turned the screen towards her, her failing grades a glaring red on the display. "Tell me, which subject would you like to miraculously pass? A click of my fingers, and it's done."

Before I could say anything, Satoru exploded.

"You blackmailing piece of shit!"

"Blackmail?" Yaga said. "No, blackmail would be threatening to cut her scholarship, endangering her entire future here... which, thankfully, our generous donor would be more than happy to preserve."

This was too much.

Now he had two pissed-off neurosurgeons on his hands. I braced my hands on the desk, leaning towards him. "Yaga, this is beyond the pale! This blatant manipulation—"

Suddenly, her voice cut through the tension. "I'll do it. I'll work on the research."

The room fell silent.

Satoru and I both whipped around to look at her. Her gaze was fixed on Yaga, not flinching. There was something defeated about her, something I wasn't used to seeing. It chilled me to the bone. She wouldn't give in like that. I knew her better than that.

But what had changed?

"Someone finally sees reason," Yaga said, breaking the silence. "You start this week—"

"No," Satoru interrupted. "That's not up for debate. We start next week."

"This week," Yaga repeated, his voice firm.

Leaning in, Satoru's voice took on a dangerous edge. "Next week. Or I walk out that door and you can find yourself a new star surgeon."

Huh?

Why did the start date matter so much to him?

Was that the real issue here?

"Dr. Gojo, you are exceedingly close to losing my goodwill," Yaga ground out. "Fine. Next week."

Satoru backed off and started to pace the room. I glanced at her, who was still sitting silently in her chair. She looked so small, lost in the shadows of Yaga's office. I wanted to wrap her in a hug, tell her it would all be okay.

But it wasn't my place. I knew the answer—

Sorry.

I'll not repeat myself yet again.

My gaze shifted back to Yaga. "And if we find nothing? Months, years, wasted on a dead-end?"

"You'll continue as long as the funding lasts."

"Of course," Satoru spat from across the room.

"Well, look at the bright side, Gojo," Yaga said, adjusting his glasses and focusing on some papers on his desk. "I just approved that fancy new CT scanner for the ER. Isn't that what you've been whining about? Finally found some spare change in the budget, did we?."

"You fucking bastard," Satoru hissed.

Yaga merely shrugged. "Everyone has to play their role, Gojo."

I watched the exchange with a growing sense of disgust. Yaga's power plays were nothing new, but this — this was something else. Exploiting a grieving widow's generosity, using my student's academic struggles as leverage. It was sickening.

I'd always known Yaga was ruthless, but this level of manipulation left a sour taste in my mouth. He was like a parasite, feeding off the brilliance and drive of others, all while masquerading as an advocate for the institution's best interests.

I clenched my jaw.

How could I continue to work for a man who treated his students and staff as mere commodities to be exploited?

Suddenly, I heard a shaky breath behind me.

I turned to see her staring blankly ahead, her body trembling ever so slightly. "If you'll excuse me," she whispered, then abruptly stood up and practically fled the room.

"Wait—" I started, but she was already gone, the door clicking shut behind her.

"Fuck you, Yaga!" Satoru shouted, slamming his fist against the wall hard enough to leave a mark. "This is your fault, your doing!" With that, he stormed out after her.

And I couldn't follow.

All I could do was try to clean up the mess that was left behind.

As soon as they were gone, I turned back to Yaga, who seemed to think the conversation was over. Oh, but it wasn't. Not by a long shot.

"You know about them," I said, not bothering to phrase it as a question.

"It's obvious even to a blind man, Dr. Geto," Yaga replied, his eyes glued to the papers on his desk.

"And you're just going to ignore it?"

He looked up, a cold glint in his eyes. "I finally found Gojo's weakness. Why would I let that go? At long last, I have a way to make him obey me."

I scoffed. In one swift motion, I swept the papers off his desk, scattering them across the floor. I leaned forward, my hands braced on his desk, glaring at him.

"This crosses a line, Yaga. You've gone too far."

His eyes narrowed. "Watch your tone, Dr. Geto. You're treading on dangerous ground."

"No, you are!" I shot back, my voice rising. "You're exploiting her, using her for your own gain. You think you can manipulate everyone, but you're wrong."

"Control? Greed? Those are harsh words coming from you," Yaga retorted, standing up to face me. "And here I thought you, of all people, would understand."

"Understand your greed? Not a chance."

"I don't care if you like my choices or not. This is how things work. You can play by the rules, or be replaced. Don't delude yourself into thinking you're irreplaceable, Dr. Geto."

"Your arrogance is going to cost you another surgeon if you don't watch it. You drove Sukuna away, and now you're halfway there with Gojo and me."

"Sukuna was a different story!" Yaga snapped, his face contorted with a rage I couldn't quite comprehend. He quickly regained his composure, but the outburst had left an uneasy silence in its wake.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and saw Shoko's name. Frowning, I answered the call. "Shoko? What is it?"

"Suguru, there's a patient here who insists on seeing Satoru. She says it's really important, but he isn't answering his phone, and she won't leave.“

"Why can't you see her yourself?"

"I need a neurologist's assessment," she replied. "And she specifically asked for Satoru. They had an appointment scheduled, and she's adamant about seeing him."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "There are other neurologists on staff right now."

I could hear her sigh on the other end of the line. "She's never seen anyone else here, Suguru. I'm pretty sure there's a reason she's so insistent on Satoru. Just look at her, do me a favor."

"Alright, I'll be there soon," I conceded. "Bring her to my office."

I ended the call and turned back to Yaga. I took a deep breath, trying to quell the rage that threatened to consume me. "This isn't over. Not by a damn sight."

"Yeah, yeah, Dr. Geto, as always," he dismissed me, already back at his papers. "By the way, there's a legal consult regarding this research coming up for you and Gojo. We don't want a repeat of past indiscretions, now do we?" He looked up at me.

I wanted to smash his smug face in.

I turned and stormed out of his office, slamming the door behind me. My blood was boiling, my fists clenched tight. I hated this whole damn situation. Hated Yaga, hated his manipulative tactics, hated how he was using her. But most of all, I hated feeling so goddamn powerless.

As I walked down the corridor, my anger slowly hardening into resolve. Yaga might think he was in control, but he was wrong. I wouldn't let him manipulate her, or Satoru, or anyone else.

Not this time. Not ever again.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: r&r reader)

I made my way to the hospital.

A damn patient was really the last thing on my mind. I had more important things to do than deal with a hysterical patient. What was it even about? Why did it have to be Satoru she wanted to see? Some relative of his?

I tried to take a deep breath and calm myself, but the downpour between the parking lot and the main entrance made it damn near impossible. By the time I got inside, I was soaked to the bone. No umbrella in sight, of course.

My office door was slightly open. I pushed it in, expecting to find some old lady or something. Instead, a young woman sat in the chair across from my desk. Mid twenties, maybe, with a delicate, almost fragile look about her. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap.

The office was dark, the lights off, which struck me as odd given the gloomy weather outside. But the light from the window beside her illuminated her face, and I had to admit — she was beautiful.

I must have hesitated overlong in the doorway, because her gaze suddenly snapped up to meet mine, those stunning eyes of hers holding me captive. "You are not Dr. Gojo."

"I'm Dr. Geto," I managed, clearing my throat against the strange tension. "You not fond of light, are you?" I asked pointing towards the light switch.

"I like it a bit dimmed," she said, and I didn't question it further.

I stepped into the room, glancing down at my clothes. Not exactly the most professional look for a doctor, standing there soaked through in front of a patient. I threw on my white coat, but it did little to hide my damp appearance.

"You were here for Dr. Gojo, right?" I said as I sat down behind my desk.

"Yes," she said, her eyes following my every move.

"I'm sorry, but he isn't available right now. But I'm a neurologist as well. Perhaps I can help you instead?"

She slid a piece of paper across my desk, her hand still resting on it. "I just need a signature here."

"A signature?" I leaned forward, water dripping from my hair onto the form. I quickly pushed my wet strands back. "This is a health screening form."

"Yes." Her eyes darted nervously to mine. "I need it for my job."

"Can I take a look at it?" I made to take the paper, but her hand remained firmly in place.

"Just the signature, please. Then I'll be out of your hair."

I raised an eyebrow. "I can't sign something without knowing what I'm signing."

Her brow furrowed, and she snatched the form back. "Sorry to have wasted your time," she muttered, starting to get up.

"Wait," I said, stopping her mid-motion. What was it about this woman? What did Satoru have to do with any of this?

"Tell me." I leaned back in my chair. "What did you and Gojo agree on regarding this?"

She hesitated, biting her lip. "Dr. Gojo agreed to sign it without asking too many questions."

Something didn't add up. Satoru might be an addict, but he wasn't reckless with patients.

"I swear, I'll give you the signature you need if you'd just let me take a look at it first."

Reluctantly, she slid the form back across the desk, avoiding my eyes. I scanned it quickly, my brow furrowing as I saw the long list of medications, mostly anticonvulsants.

That explained the lights being off.

"You have epilepsy." I looked up at her. Why would she think either of us would sign this without checking it out first?

"Yes."

"And you're currently taking all these meds?" I gestured to the list.

"Yes."

I leaned back, studying her face. "And Gojo knew about this?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any other words in your vocabulary besides 'yes'?"

Her brow furrowed, and a flicker of defiance flashed in her eyes.

I sighed. "Come on, sit down."

Reluctantly, she settled back into the chair.

I studied her face, looking for any signs of her epilepsy — a slight tremor in her hands from the Topiramate, maybe. But there was nothing. She was perfectly still. Satoru must have found the right dosage.

The silence stretched on. I waited for an explanation, and she knew it. I could practically see the gears turning in her head.

"He's been treating me for a while," she finally said.

"I see. And he agreed to sign this health screening form for you?"

"Yes—"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Look, Dr. Geto, I really need this for my internship," she pleaded. "It's really important to me."

I glanced back down at the form. "Nishimura and Asahi, huh? That's a big deal. You're a law intern?"

"Yes, I am. I'll be working there for the next semester."

I skimmed the papers again, test results, MRI scans. "So, you're almost done with your studies?" I asked, not looking up.

"I do my second state examination after my internship, yes, then I'm done."

"Hmm." I looked up from the papers, the rain drumming against the windows, the only sound in the otherwise silent office. She stared at me, unwavering.

"So you're preparing for your final exams while working the internship? Sounds stressful," I tried to broach the subject carefully.

"Please, Dr. Geto," she said. "I just need a signature on this paper, and I'm out of here."

I sighed. "I understand. But I can't just sign this without checking in on you first. I need to run some tests, make sure you're fit for work."

My eyes scanned the papers again. Blood tests and medication checks were recent, but the MRI scans were outdated. Even Satoru wouldn't have let her slide with that.

"Look, we can make this quick," I offered. "Your MRI scans are old. We take new ones, and then—"

"No," she blurted out, her voice rising in panic. "I mean, isn't there another way?"

"Another way to look into your brain?" I raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid not."

She bit her lip, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap, saying nothing.

"Look, it's crucial for me to get a clear picture of your brain activity," I explained. "It's the only way I can make sure you're safe and healthy. Otherwise, I can't sign that form."

She looked up at me again. "I... I can't do MRIs. I'm not really comfortable with enclosed spaces."

Huh?

Was that the problem?

I ran a hand through my damp hair, looking back at her scans. "Your last scans were done by Dr. Gojo too, right?"

"Yes."

She was a woman of few words, it seemed.

"Was there something special Dr. Gojo did that made you feel more comfortable in the MRI? Did he give you any medication? Vistaril? Valium?" I knew it wasn't that, though. Those drugs would interact badly with her other meds.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, looking like she might throw up any second. "He... held my hand."

Ha?

My eyebrows shot up. "He held your hand?"

She lifted her chin and looked away. "It... it helped."

I can only imagine the dumbfounded look that must have settled on my features as I processed her words. I couldn't picture Satoru, who rather had his patients in and out in mere seconds, being so patient and caring with anyone. Let alone holding their hand through a brain scan.

She crossed her arms, a stubborn look on her face. "I swear, nothing weird happened. He just held my hand, that's all."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"It's not funny," she protested, her cheeks flushing. "It was really embarrassing."

"Oh, I'm sure it was," I teased, enjoying her flustered reaction. "But it's also quite cute."

She huffed, turning her head away. "It's not cute. It's just... something he did."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. "And would you like me to do the same?"

Her eyes narrowed, a spark of challenge in them. "His hands were really soft."

"Is that so?" I leaned back in my chair. I could see the wheels turning in her head, her stubbornness a thinly veiled attempt to stall for time.

"And warm."

"Aha."

"And he had this way of holding my hand," she started, demonstrating with her own hands. My eyebrows shot up even higher as she mimicked Satoru's thumb stroking her knuckles. "Like this."

Somewhere in the middle of her demonstration, she must have realized how ridiculous this was, because she abruptly stopped.

"Don't laugh!" she warned, and I realized I was indeed grinning like an idiot.

Before she could object, I reached out and took her hand in mine.

Her skin was soft, her fingers delicate. I held her gaze, challenging her silently. Not sure what I was trying to prove, but the warmth of her hand in mine felt... good. I knew I was crossing a line here, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

"See? Not so bad, is it?"

She didn't say anything, but her grip tightened a bit. I held her gaze for a few more seconds, then my thumb brushed against the back of her hand in a soothing gesture. She seemed to relax slightly under my touch.

Her eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape route. "I... I suppose."

I couldn't help but let the moment linger, our hands still intertwined. I noticed a slight tremor in her fingers, and my thumb instinctively smoothed over her skin again.

She suddenly gasped. "That's... quite weird."

"And with Gojo it wasn't weird?"

She shook her head, eyes glued to our hands. "No. I just realized it's weird in general."

I smiled. "Well, then it's settled. We'll schedule your MRI for tomorrow morning."

"You're not like other doctors."

"Perhaps not," I said, finally letting go of her hand. "But you're not exactly your average patient either."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she gestured towards my soaked shirt. "You're the doctor who's completely drenched. I can practically see your skin underneath. Not very professional, is it?"

I glanced down at my sopping clothes. I hadn't even realized how see-through my shirt was. "For someone who's afraid of an MRI machine, you sure have a big mouth."

She crossed her arms. "And for someone who just held a patient's hand without their explicit consent, you sure have a lot of nerve. That's a violation of medical ethics, you know. I could report you for that."

"A law student, are we?" I raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Perhaps you should focus on passing your exams before you start threatening lawsuits."

"Yeah, well, I'd need that signature before I can do that, wouldn't I?"

"Fair enough." I stood up, keys in hand. "Until tomorrow then. Try not to sue me in your sleep."

I turned to leave, but her voice stopped me. "Just so you know, Dr. Geto. I'm not afraid of MRI machines. I just don't like them."

I turned back, a grin spreading across my face. "We'll see about that tomorrow, Attorney," I challenged. "We'll see about that."

The hallway was empty, the silence broken only by the steady drip of water from my clothes. As I walked, the adrenaline of the encounter faded, replaced by the familiar weight of the day's earlier events. The tense confrontation with Yaga, the lingering ache for her — it all came back, a dull throb in the background of my thoughts.

Her face.

Her eyes.

That damn smile.

I ran a hand through my hair.

Fuck.

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(note: r&r reader)

I held my promise.

Her fingers were cold and clammy, her pulse racing beneath my touch. My thumb traced the back of her hand, hoping to convey some sense of comfort. The MRI machine's steady thrum filled the room, but beneath it, I could still hear her shallow breaths.

How the hell did I end up here? Holding hands with a patient during a goddamn brain scan was definitely not in my job description.

"Can you tell me something?" she asked. "Dr. Gojo always talked to me while I was in here."

"What do you want to know?"

"How did you and Dr. Gojo meet?"

I hesitated, slightly irritated by the personal question.

"We've known each other our whole lives. Kindergarten, elementary school, high school... we didn't always get along. He can be a real pain in the ass. But somewhere along the way, we just clicked. Been stuck together ever since. Same university, now working together."

"So you've never been apart?"

"Not really," I said, continuing to soothe her hand with my thumb. "I think the longest we were separated was when he did a semester abroad. Six months, maybe."

"Wow. Sounds like you're an old married couple."

I huffed. "Yeah, somehow we were that."

"Were?"

I looked up, realizing I'd slipped into past tense.

There was a long silence as I thought about it. We used to be so close, inseparable. There was nothing we didn't share, nothing that could ever come between us. But lately, it felt like we were drifting apart.

Maybe I was only realizing it now.

"Oh, I..." I trailed off. I rested my chin on my free hand, looking away from her. "I guess it's only natural. People drift apart. Life happens."

What the hell was I doing?

This was some random patient of Satoru's, a complete stranger. I should've stuck to small talk, the weather, anything but my personal life. But maybe, with everything going on, I just needed to talk about it — to anyone. Because I sure as hell couldn't talk to Satoru about it.

But she wouldn't understand, would she? She was just a stranger.

She wouldn't understand the sleepless nights, the endless tossing and turning, the hollow ache in my chest that wouldn't go away.

"Hmm," she murmured, her grip on my hand tightening slightly. "Was it a woman?"

"Huh?" I looked at her, or at least the part of her face that wasn't hidden by the MRI machine.

"The reason you parted, I mean?"

"No. It wasn't a woman."

The silence hung in the air as the MRI hummed and clicked. She didn't say anything.

I took a deep breath. "It was a woman. But not in the way you think."

"It's never what it seems, is it?"

I hesitated, not sure how much to share. But something in her voice, a softness, made me want to go on. "They share a bond... a deep one. I've never seen anything like that. It's like they're the very air the other breathes."

Her grip on my hand tightened, as if she understood the depth of my pain, even without knowing the full story. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's alright," I said, trying to shrug it off, but the pain was still raw. "I knew from the start that they were made for each other."

The truth sliced through me, sharp and cold.

They were too similar, both bordering on insanity to be fair, but similar. Yet, they were so stubborn, so unwilling to admit their need for each other, that they'd rather tear each other down.

It was a damn tragedy.

Even more of a tragedy to get caught up in their destruction, to have these stupid feelings I'd rather not have.

I stayed silent, unsure if I wanted to say anything more. It hurt too much to talk about it, the wound still too fresh. But then, her voice cut through the silence again.

"The law firm is hell."

"Huh?" I was pulled back to the present. "What do you mean?"

"The corporate types are all so stiff and judgmental," she complained. "And the other law students... so ambitious, always trying to one-up each other. I hate it."

My lips twitched into a light smile. "Yeah, law students were always ambitious, even back in my day."

"They are. Everyone's so focused on being the best, even if it means stepping on others. I'm not sure I have that kind of ambition."

"But you got an internship at one of the top law firms in the city," I pointed out. "That must mean you're pretty ambitious yourself."

There was a pause, then she almost whispered, "Yeah, but at what cost..."

Hm?

I barely caught her words, but before I could ask her to repeat herself, a sudden beep from the MRI machine cut through the air. The machine whirred to a stop, the sudden silence almost unsettling. The scan was complete.

The table slowly slid out, bringing her back into full view. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the light. "That's it?" she asked, sounding surprised. "It's over?"

"All done, Attorney," I said with a reassuring smile. "You did great."

As she started to sit up, I realized I was still holding her hand. She glanced down at our intertwined fingers. "You can let go now, Dr. Geto."

I blinked, snapping back to reality. I quickly released her hand. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she said, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "I tend to have that effect on men."

"Again, for someone who's afraid of MRIs, you've got a pretty big mouth."

"Again, I'm not afraid of them. I just don't like them."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, helping her off the table. My hand brushed against hers again. "Now let's take a look at those scans."

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(note: r&r reader)

As the images flickered onto the screen, my focus sharpened, my eyes scanning the intricate patterns of her brain. The room was quiet, broken only by the soft hum of the computer and the rhythmic beeping of the nearby monitors.

"Everything looks good, Attorney," I said. "No signs of any abnormalities or lesions."

She leaned forward, her eyes wide with interest as she studied the images. "So, I'm all clear?"

"As far as I can tell. Your epilepsy seems to be well-controlled with your current medication."

"Thanks, Dr. Geto, I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome," I replied, grabbing the form from my desk. "Now, about that signature..." I quickly filled it out, my pen scratching across the paper. With a final flourish, I signed my name at the bottom.

"Here you go," I said, handing it over. "All set."

She took it, her eyes scanning the document quickly. "Thank you. You've been a lifesaver."

"Just doing my job." I waved away her thanks. "Now, go out there and conquer the legal world."

She looked up from the paper and met my gaze with a boldness that caught me off guard. "Would you like to go out for drinks this weekend?"

I blinked, my mind scrambling to process her words. "I... what?" I stammered, completely taken aback. "Are you—asking me out?"

"No, no, that's not it at all!" She quickly waved her hands in front of her face. "I mean, not like a date or anything. I could really use a friend, someone to show me around and... you know, just hang out with."

I stared at her, amused and bewildered at the same time. "Attorney, I'm at least ten years older than you."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Ha? How old are you?"

"How old are you?"

"Didn't you read my medical history, doctor?"

Right. Now I remembered. Twenty-six. Yeah, ten years older. I leaned against the desk, not quite sure what to make of her proposition.

"I'm your doctor," I said, reminding her of the obvious.

"Technically, I'm Dr. Gojo's patient."

"Even so, you realize how this could be perceived, right?"

"It's not like I'm asking for your kidney. Just a few drinks." She shrugged, unfazed. "Besides, you seem like a nice guy."

"That's all it takes for you?"

"Come on, don't make it so hard for me," she said, pouting playfully.

"I'm not sure I'm the best person to show you around town. I'm a bit of a workaholic. Socializing isn't exactly my forte."

She tilted her head, studying me with a curious gaze. "So you're saying you don't have any friends?" she asked, a playful challenge in her voice. "Are you a loner, Dr. Geto?"

I hesitated, thrown off by her directness. "Do you always speak your mind so bluntly?"

She shrugged. "Only when I'm talking to heartbroken doctors who seem a little lonely."

I couldn't help but be intrigued by her persistence.

She was unlike any patient I'd ever met — bold, witty, and surprisingly insightful. And despite the age difference, there was some sort of strange understanding between us. I couldn't quite tell if she was doing this for herself or for me, but I found myself wanting to find out.

"Alright, Attorney," I said. "You win. I'll show you around town. But don't expect any wild nights out. I'm more of a quiet bar and good conversation kind of guy."

Her face lit up with a genuine smile. "Sounds perfect. Just promise me you won't try to diagnose me with anything while we're out."

"Why, is there more to diagnose?"

"Nothing major," she said with a chuckle. "Just the usual existential angst, quarter-life crisis, questioning my entire career path kind of stuff."

"Don't worry. I won't diagnose anything outside this hospital."

"Great." She grinned, extending her hand. "Then it's a deal."

As our hands clasped together, I returned her smile. "Deal."

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(note: s&c reader)

Satoru's call woke me up, telling me to get my ass to the lab. It was my day off, damn it, but when he mentioned she wanted to meet us. I dragged myself out of bed.

By the time I got to our old lab — now ours again, apparently — Satoru was already mapping out the entire research study on the whiteboard. He must have been there for hours.

Good thing I'd brought two coffees. I knew this was coming.

Hours passed in a blur of caffeine and whiteboard markers. Satoru and I argued over every damn strategy, our approaches clashing like always. He wanted to go one way, I wanted to go another. Every idea we had was met with immediate criticism and erased within minutes.

New idea, erase, repeat.

But we kept going, trying to find a plan that would work, not just for us, but for her. We both wanted to take some of the burden off her shoulders.

Then the lab door opened. I turned, surprised to see anyone before the afternoon. My heart stuttered in my chest.

It was her.

She walked over to us, her expression unreadable. It was the first time I'd seen her since Yaga's office, since I'd almost let those three damning words slip past my guard. Since I'd seen the confusion in her eyes when she realized what I was about to confess.

God, what had I been thinking?

That she'd what, return my feelings?

Foolish.

"What are you doing here?" Satoru asked. "Don't you have a lecture right now?"

"Yuta's covering for me. It's fine."

"That's not how this research will work. You won't jeopardize your studies for this," Satoru said, his voice firm.

"Last time I checked, this was my research. Remember?" she retorted, her tone just as sharp.

Satoru merely huffed. She shifted under his gaze, looking uncomfortable. And tired. No, tired was an understatement. She looked like she hadn't slept in a week. Her cheeks were hollow, her skin pale. I hated seeing her like this.

"You look exhausted," I observed quietly. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

"I'm fine," she said, but it was a blatant lie.

I glanced at Satoru, who was already looking at me with a frown. He thought the same thing I did.

"Look, I have an idea," she said suddenly, walking over to the whiteboard and snatching the marker from my hand. Before I could react, she erased our notes with a few harsh strokes.

Ouch.

"My original approach was too theoretical—too cautious," she began, drawing on the whiteboard. "I wanted to use CAR-T therapy to treat brain tumors like blood diseases, but that's not enough. What if we combine CAR-T with targeted antibodies?"

I took a seat next to Satoru, my eyes following hers as she scribbled diagrams and equations on the board. I took a sip of my coffee, already cold. "Antibodies... what kind?"

"T-cell engagers," she said without missing a beat. "We can engineer them to bridge the gap between the CAR-T cells and the tumor."

"That's never been tested before," Satoru chimed in.

"That's why we'll be the first," she retorted. “We'll modify the CAR-T cells to specifically target the glioblastoma's antigen fingerprint. But we need to combine them with T-cell engagers, designed to simultaneously bind the EGFR protein. This way, we can maximize tumor cell destruction."

It was hard to keep up. Her words were spilling out a mile a minute, as if she was afraid they otherwise might slip her mind, the drawings on the board barely legible.

Then, she spun around. "And we'll inject them directly into the brain."

Silence.

Satoru and I stared at her, trying to process what she'd just laid out. Even as seasoned neurosurgeons, we were struggling to keep up. This was on a whole other level than anything we'd considered.

We were looking for something that would work and be safe.

She just wanted to find a way to make it work, damn the risks it seemed. The lack of sleep was clearly messing with her head, but in a twisted way, it made sense. Still, we couldn't actually go through with this, could we?

Her gaze flitted between us, waiting for a response.

God, I need a cigarette.

"That's," I paused, searching for the right word, "—bold."

"More like insane," Satoru countered. "When was the last time you actually slept?"

"Ha? Tell me this doesn't make sense."

I leaned back, drumming my fingers on the armrest as I thought it over. "It does. Theoretically, it could work."

"Combining CAR-T with antibodies? Direct brain injection? We don't have preclinical data, not even hypothetical models to support something this radical," Satoru countered.

"So?" she challenged. "Isn't that what groundbreaking research is about? Taking risks, pushing boundaries?" She gestured to the whiteboard. "This—this is worth the risk."

I stood up and started pacing, rubbing my chin as I thought it through. I walked back over to the board, took the marker from her hand, and started scribbling.

"She's right," I said, my mind racing. "Direct injection cuts through the blood-brain barrier issue. And targeted antibodies... that opens up possibilities we haven't even considered."

But there were still so many obstacles. "The potential for cytokine release syndrome—" I mused aloud. "If the T-cells overreact, we could trigger an inflammatory response."

She leaned closer, her eyes focused on the board. "We can manage that. Steroids, anti-IL-6... strict monitoring protocols."

Hmm, maybe. But there was still more to consider. I kept writing. "And what about the target itself? EGFRvIII is notoriously heterogeneous. We need robust evidence that our antibodies won't miss their mark—"

"Is it just me, or am I the only sane person in this room right now?" Satoru interrupted, his arms crossed as he glared at us from his chair. "We're not talking about hypothetical models here. We're talking about messing with someone's brain. Someone's life."

"I'm well aware of the risks, Satoru," she shot back.

"Aware and reckless aren't the same thing," he retorted.

"Coming from you, that's rich."

God, I need two cigarettes now.

"Look, you've barely slept for a week, and now you're proposing—what, supercharged T-cells?" He gestured towards our chaotic notes on the whiteboard. "Have you both lost your goddamn minds?" His gaze flickered between the two of us.

I was surprised he was so hesitant. Satoru was usually the first to jump into the deep end. Somehow, I had the feeling he changed. He wasn't as risky as I used to know him. Must be her influence.

She took a step forward, her eyes locked on Satoru's. "This could work, Satoru. Or are you too much of a coward to even try?"

"Ha?"

She leaned in, her hands gripping the arms of his chair. "Tell me, do these supercharged T-cells unnerve you? Make you uncomfortable with yourself?"

I had to look away. The sight of them so close together made my stomach churn. I didn't want to see whatever was about to happen. She whispered something I couldn't make out, but the intensity in her eyes was clear. A wave of irritation, of jealousy, washed over me.

My phone buzzed, a welcome distraction. I pulled it out, annoyance flaring when I saw the caller ID.

"Damn it." I answered the call. "Shoko, what is it?"

"Hey Suguru, look, we have an emergency here and the other neurologist is out sick. We need someone to jump in, can you come?"

I rubbed my temple. "Alright, I'm on my way."

I turned back to them, already gathering my things. "We'll pick this up later. There's a situation at the hospital." I looked at her, concern replacing my irritation. "Get some rest. You look like hell."

The words were out before I could stop them, harsher than I intended. But I was already halfway out the door.

Later, as I was scrubbing into surgery, my own words echoed in my mind.

And I felt awful.

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Sharp autumn air stung my lungs with each greedy drag on my cigarette.

Across the table, Satoru's fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on the worn table that set my teeth on edge. I had to resist the urge to reach over and grab his wrist to make him stop. His eyes were glued to his phone. Overhead, the sky was a bruise-colored canvas, the sun barely visible.

Forgotten coffee grew cold between us.

I took another long drag from my cigarette. Satoru shifted opposite of me, his leg bouncing with nervous energy. He hadn't looked away from his phone in minutes, his fingers twitching as if itching to type a message.

We sat like this for a while at the campus outdoor cafeteria. Students hurried past. Neither of us said a word.

"Sorry for ditching you with my patient the other day," he finally said. "How'd it go?"

I exhaled a plume of smoke and watched it vanish into the leaden sky. "Everything's fine. Medication's good, MRI was clean."

"That's good news," he said, already back to his phone, unlocking and locking it in a nervous tic. "Knew you'd take care of her." He glanced up with a smirk. "So she actually went through with the MRI? How'd that go?"

I let out a dry laugh. "Let's not talk about it." I stubbed out my cigarette butt in the grimy ashtray and immediately lit another. "Didn't know you were so soft with your patients."

"I'm not a monster, you know." He shrugged, gaze dropping back to his phone. "I do what's best for them, even if it means bending the rules a bit." He paused, a smirk once again forming on his lips. "She's pretty straightforward, huh?"

"Did you sleep with her?" I asked bluntly.

Satoru's head snapped up, eyebrows raised. "What, you think I'm screwing every student that walks through my door?"

"You seem familiar."

"She's nice. I was nice in return. That's all." His attention was already drifting back to the bright screen. "Besides, she works with Higurama. He asked me to keep an eye on her."

I exhaled slowly, the smoke a grey ghost against the darkening sky.

"She's doing okay, by the way," he offered without looking up.

My blood ran cold.

I knew who he was talking about. We both did.

Satoru's gaze met mine, his smirk gone. "I know you want to ask."

Silence fell. I wondered if he could sense the fever-pitch of my pulse, if he knew about my feelings for her. Because the way he looked at me now, I had a sinking feeling he did. My fingers tightened around my coffee cup.

"It's not easy for her," I said, trying to sound indifferent.

"Yeah." Satoru's expression hardened. "I should kill Yaga over this whole mess."

"Still, her plan might actually work. It's a good one."

"Yeah, but at what cost?" His leg started its anxious bouncing again under the table. "She's pushing herself too damn hard."

He paused, then blurted, "We should leave this university."

"Like we talked about before you backed out?"

"You know why." He unlocked his phone again, only to lock it a second later with a sigh. "I can't leave her alone with these maniacs."

"The whole staying away from her thing isn't really working out, huh?"

"Of course not," Satoru scoffed with a weary sigh. "I should've known better."

I took a sip of the coffee gone cold and bitter minutes ago, watching him over the rim. He raked a hand through his hair, then tugged at the strands, his leg still bouncing under the table. Something was eating at him.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, fine," he replied curtly.

I watched him for a beat longer. He was clearly anything but fine. But I knew better than to push it. He wouldn't tell me anyway. Satoru always kept that shit bottled up tight.

But there was another issue too, wasn't there?

"How's the medication treating you?" I asked instead. "We should get your liver enzymes checked soon."

"Huh?" He looked up from his phone, clearly surprised by the question — as if he'd forgotten about his failing liver.

Just then, Zenin Maki and her friends strolled past our table. Okkotsu gave us a quick wave as they passed, and I returned a faint smile.

It was strange. She wasn't with them.

Come to think of it, I hadn't seen her around campus at all since we last crossed paths in the lab.

Satoru's gaze followed them as they scanned the outdoor seating area for a table. His eyes widened, then he quickly stood up. "Sorry, Suguru, I have to go," he said hastily, not giving me any explanation. But I should be used to this by now.

It wasn't the first time.

He was already gone, leaving his coffee cold and abandoned in his wake. I took another long drag of my cigarette, stubbed it out in the overflowing ashtray, and reached for my phone.

[12:15 PM] Me: So, Saturday at 9pm? Know a good sports bar if you're into that.

[12:16 PM] Attorney: Sounds good, love sports. Send me the address.

next chapter ->

author's note: i'm so thrilled to hear your thoughts on geto's pov! he's really struggling with gojo and s&c reader being the mess that they are and his feelings in all of it, but don't worry, he'll get his happy ending (with you) too hehe <33

i hope it wasn't too confusing though. this is my first time writing a spin-off, so if you haven't read symptoms and causes, it must be quite confusing at times. but the next chapters will focus less on the s&c reader and more on geto and the r&r reader of course. but i love how i can provide background info for s&c through this story and vice versa :)) & lastly, thank you so much for reading !! your support truly means the world. hope u all have a great day !! <3

pls comment on the masterlist for the taglist. or consider subscribing to the story on AO3, if you'd like to stay updated on future chapters.

🏷️ @nanamis-baker @whereflowerswenttodie @certainlysyko @ri-sa20 @biancaness

@roseified @rixo-19 @madaqueue @starmapz @alwaysfreakingout

@gojoluvs @totallytatum @shervinss

#remedies and reasons #suguru geto #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #suguru geto fanfiction #geto fanfic #geto fanficiton #geto suguru #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk fanfiction #jjk fanfic #suguru geto x reader

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breathebangtan · 5 years ago

Text

Credulous

Ch. 6: J…….

Genre: FallenGuardianAngel! Jimin, Supernatural

Members: Jimin

Pairings: Jimin x y/n

Synopsis: love is an uncontrollable feeling, even for those who were meant to protect, and only protect. Nothing more and nothing less. Yet somehow, there was always outliers.

Warnings: None really

Word count: 5.8k

A/N: Hope you all enjoy! Please like and reblog if you do!

Ch.1 | Ch.5 | Ch.7

The bus I took was pretty barren, like a desert with cactus in randoms spots, with the occasional eagle perched on it. I took my seat, somewhere in the middle, near the back. The driver took a few minutes to finish loading the luggage. As he did I got comfortable in my seat, resting my head on the window. The smell of vanilla with lavender and roses was slightly filling my space, it wasn’t strong in the slightest. As a matter of fact, the vanilla wasn't as apparent as the flowery smells. The connection Jimin and I shared was becoming apparent as well, but barely even there. “Rest your head on my shoulder.” He whispered, as if not to startle me. I felt slight panic though, I was afraid someone would see him and wonder how he got on. “Only you can see me right now, and hear me for that matter.” He reassures me as if he read my thoughts. I give a little sigh, relaxing as I rest my head on him. I’d be lying if I said I felt the same amount of warmth I felt when we first met. Everything about him from that night was starting to disappear, or lessen at least. I wondered if maybe it was because I was getting use to his presence or if it was the stress he’d mentioned before, taking its toll on him. If it was the latter, I worried for him. Even if he was a heavenly being, the fact that he had stress at all proved to me that he could be fragile too.

I entangled my hand in his, trying to return the comfort he’d giving me all this time, hoping that maybe I could act as a remedy that could get his heart beating again. “Malum.” Jimin whispered, repositioning his chin atop my head, ever so gently, it was as if he was barely pressing down. “Hm?” I hummed slightly, letting my eyes flutter shut. “You know I love you, right?” He asked, his voice was filled with more emotion than I’d ever heard anyone put into words. The suddenness of them catching me off guard, the genuine raw emotion burning through my ears, like hot iron making its way to my heart until it left a permanent mark. I didn’t know what to say, or what to do. “I…” I pushed away from him, staring up into his eyes. They were soft, not expecting anything, just hopeful. I just wasn't sure what they hoped for.

“All I want is your safety and happiness. You know that, right?” He continued. I don’t know why I’d felt so weird about it, he was my guardian, that’s what he meant when he said it. He loves me as much as any other guardian angel can love their assigned human, that’s what he meant. Nothing more to it. So why did I feel so oddly about it? “Of course.” I whispered back to him, as I noticed that the driver had finally made it in, getting ready to pull out of the station. Anyone who was remotely close to me, was wearing headphones. I could talk freely to Jimin without anyone questioning me, but I didn’t want to be louder than a whisper because the same silence would make my voice identifiable. If the driver heard me, he’d think I was crazy.

My hold on his hand tightens, as if to assure him. “I’d be lost without you.” The words escape my lips in such a breathy whisper, as I let myself rest on his shoulder again, hoping to drift into sleep even if just for a little while. His soft humming lulling me into slumber. I was supposed to be back home, at my parents house before midnight, which gave me plenty of time to rest. So I let the movement of the bus’ wheels on the concrete ground rock me, like a baby being carried by its mother on a rocking chair. Everything was so peaceful.

“We are currently 8 minutes away from our destination. Please be sure to gather all your belongings and be ready for our arrival. Don’t forget to wait for your luggage after you’ve gotten off.” The drivers announcement wakes me up. I’m thankful that he speaks in such a soft voice, saving me from being startled awake. As I regain consciousness, I realise that Jimin is gone now. My eyes look to the window to see the familiar city I’d been away from longer than I’d like. I waited for the bus driver to give me my luggage before walking into the bus station to await a taxi I'd called.

It didn't take long to arrive home from the station, nothing over 10 minutes. Which was great because I made it home with a little less than half an hour left before 12. I paid off the taxi with the remainder of the 100 dollar tip I'd received from the odd customer. I still could not believe that, that money was literally just enough to pay for my bus ticket and the taxi ride here. My head was starting to throb as I tried to explain how a simple customer, who had given me a weird nickname by the way, was able to predict what I’d go through? There was no way, he’d probably just been generous with what he decided was a fair amount to tip, and decided to write whatever?

Trying my best to put the thought aside, I knocked on my parents door and waited for them to open. I hoped I wasn't waking them, I had warned them I'd be here around this time. “Y/n! My beautiful daughter, oh you're home!” My mother says excitedly as she opens the door, pulling me into a tight hug. My father laughing behind her, bringing my suitcase inside with him. “Come on in sweetheart, you must be cold.” She ushers me inside the warm home, the one I've missed for quite some time now. Being an adult was tough, and being away from your parents for the first time was worse. I knew it was part of life, and I didn't mind it, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss being in this house. In their presence. “I've missed you both. So much.” I sigh as I hug my dad, he pats my back slowly.

“We're so glad to have you home.” He smiles down at me, kissing the top of my head. The lights are mostly off but the ones that are, are dim creating a cozy environment. “Why don't you go rest, and we’ll plan something for tomorrow in the morning.” Mom asks me as they lead me up stairs. Even though I’d slept on the way here, I’m still exhausted. So of course I nod my head in agreement as we come up to my room. “Goodnight sweetie.” My mother says as she opens my door before walking off with dad. It’s just as I left it before moving out into my apartment. My white desk with all sorts of stationary on it, sticky notes on the wall in front of it. The fairy lights I had hung all over my room still intact, I wondered if they still worked though. I laid my suitcase on the floor and opened it, bringing out my pajamas. My burgundy bed covers perfectly made, it looked so inviting. I changed quickly and got into bed, leaving my phone charging on my nightstand. My mind drifted off not too long after and I welcomed it, ready to rest.

Instead of drifting into peaceful sleep, however, my mind started to go into dreamland for the first time in awhile. Only it wasn't a dream, but a nightmare. A weird distorted image of Jimin replying in my head. Oddly enough, the strange customer who had given me the 100 dollar tip was behind him, wicked smile on his lips, horns on his head paired with dark crimson wings. The same color as the tears streaming down Jimin's face, which was contorted into a pained expression. His hands tied behind his back whispering apologizes as I tried to run towards him, but I wasn't moving, my body trapped in place. The man behind him brought his hand up, his fingers getting ready to snap. All I could hear was my agonizing screams, asking him to stop, but it was useless. He'd snapped his fingers, and flames consumed Jimin. My body shot up in my bed as hot tears slipped down my cheeks, burning like alcohol on fresh wounds. I couldn't believe I had witnessed that, even if it was just a nightmare. So vividly, it was like it had truly happened. My hand came to my throat as I tried to breathe, but it was hard as I started hyperventilating.

“Malum? Are you okay?” Jimin was quick to rush to my side, bringing me into his embrace. “I thought I'd lost you.” I manage through heavy breathing. It didn't seem like just a nightmare, if I was honest, and that scared me. I wrapped my arms around him, not wanting to let him go. Afraid that he'd be taken from me. I've only known him for half a month, but I felt like I'd known him my whole life. I hadn't realised the gravity of just how much I cared for him. The way he looked at me when I studied, his adoring smile always made me blush. How he'd always check on me, to make sure I was alright, helping me out with such meaningless things like finding my keys. The fact that he knew what I wanted, when I wanted it. All he wanted was for me to be okay, but I didn't know that all I wanted was for him to be so too. I wanted him to stay by my side for as long as I could have him.

I was afraid I was becoming too attached to him, of what my feelings for him really were. He was my guardian, and he could never be anything more. “Please say that you'll always stay.” Another stream of tears slipped down, as I couldn't imagine him being ripped away from me. He pushed back the strands of my hair, holding my face from either side, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. His eyes staring into my soul, their beautiful dark brown shade was mesmerizing. “What are you saying? I'll always stay here. With you.” He leans in, leaving a reassuring kiss on my forehead. God I hoped my nightmare as meaningless, I hoped with everything inside me that his words weren't anything but the truth.

“I just can't imagine not having you.” I sighed into his neck as he held me close. Just as I'd said that, a knock came from my door. “Honey? Is someone in there with you?” My mother's voice chimed in, somewhat muffled because of the door. A slight panic came over me as I tried to think of an excuse. “No… No, not at all. I'm just talking to myself.” I face palmed at my own excuse, I'd probably sounded crazy. Not like most people didn't do it, but no one would admit it, because it would make them sound like a lunatic.

“Are you sure? I swear a heard a man's voice.” She insists, Jimin leans back slightly, his head falling back as he giggles quietly, watching me struggle. “Oh, I'm just watching something on my phone. But did you need anything?” I ask trying to change the subject as I hit Jimin’s arm. Not that it helps, so instead I cover his mouth with my hand. “Okay, well breakfast is ready. Why don't you come down and eat with us.” She says, thankfully not mentioning it again.

“I'll be right down.” I wait for her footsteps to sound further away before I remove my hand from his mouth, giving him a stern look. All he can do is raise his hands in the air as if he wasn't sure what he'd done wrong. “You just love seeing me panic, trying to cover for you, don't you?” He chuckles shaking his head. I get up from my bed, walking to my suitcase.

“Of course not… Besides that would be bad for me.” I could tell from his tone he wasn't being serious, even though half of his sentence was true. “Just admit it. You evil man, making me struggle.” I try my best to sound serious, but the slight laugh in my tone is apparent.

“Okay, just a little.” He giggles again. I grab my shoe and fling it at him, but once I turn to look at him he's gone and in his place is the shoe I’d thrown laying on my bed. There's a slight pull at my heart, as the images of my nightmare flashback for a second. Hoping this isn't the last time I see him, I gather a change of clothes and my toothbrush. After I'd washed up and changed, I walked down to the dining table. My favorites were set up on the table, in elaborate arrangements, pleasing to the eye. I was more than ready to dig in. “Mom… You really didn't have too.” I smile at her, taking a seat. I'd missed her cooking so much, and to wake up with all my breakfast favorites was a wish come true. At the same time I didn't want her to overwork herself for me. “It's been so long since you were home. I thought it would be perfect.” She smiles, as the smell of everything makes my mouth water.

“It is, it's perfect. Thank you, mom.” I pick up my fork, taking a bite. All of the flavors coming together in perfect harmony, nothing to overpowering, but just right. A symphony of flavors bursting in my mouth. It really had been so long since I'd had her cooking. “Your mother and I were thinking of going to the science museum. The one we use to go to when you were younger. You loved that place so much, we thought it would be perfect.” Dad smiles at me, waiting to see my reaction. I nod quickly, loving the idea. I could barely remember the place, as it had been that long.

“I heard they added some new stuff, is it true?” I wondered out loud. The website for the museum had mentioned something along those lines a couple months ago, but I wasn't sure if I'd read correctly because I was multitasking as I had done it. “A colleague of mine went with her son just a few weeks ago. She said there was new additions and some changes to already existing exhibitions.” Mom explained, which made me get so much more excited for it. Both my parents were what some might call, science nerds, so naturally growing up they'd shown me related things. I grew a liking to it, of course. But I had a feeling my parents always knew it wasn’t for me. Although, to be fair I wasn’t sure what was for me.

“Well I’m excited to go! It’s been so long since we’ve done something as a family.” I smiled happily at the both of them. We finished eating soon after, mom sending me up to my room to get ready, stating that surely I had nicer clothes to wear. I laughed at her comment and agreed, a somewhat prestigious place like that wasn’t to show up in ripped jeans and a simple tee. I replaced my current outfit for a black skirt and a beige blouse tucked into it, pairing it with black boots. The car ride to the museum wasn't too long, at least it didn't feel long, but it did take close to 40 minutes. It was pretty far away from home, but we still managed to make it relatively early in the morning.

The line to get inside was pretty big, so much so that many were standing outside waiting to go in. Surprisingly so, the line moved relatively fast. More than I'd expect it to with this many people waiting. We finally made it inside and started exploring. Taking pictures here and there. As we went along we noticed all the new additions that were made. Like the electric wall that makes your hair go crazy because of negative and positive energy mixing. Or the new area that was dedicated to climate change, and the negative effects it had on the atmosphere, and the earth in the long run. Everything was just as interesting as I’d remembered it, my parents throwing big scientific words around as they explained things to me. Not that I’d understand everything, but I got the gist of it, I enjoyed listening to them happily explain things to me. Watching them enjoy it made me happy.

After some time of walking, we headed out for lunch. “Wasn’t that just amazing?” Dad asked me as he buckled his seatbelt. The both of them with big smiles on their faces. “They adore you so much. How could they not?” Jimin’s voice says from beside me, my head turns so quickly to see him seated beside me, I think I nearly gave myself whiplash. He can only laugh at me, as I try to go back to conversing with my parents. “Yeah, just how I remember it as a child. I love the climate change section they added.” I try to keep our conversation going. Which works, my parents both busy talking to each other about it now. “Did you miss me.” He asks, innocent smile across his lips, I can only shake my head at his comment. “Do you always have to startle me when I’m around people?” I giggle slightly as I whisper to him, my parents not even aware, thankfully.

“I’m sorry, I just needed to check on you. After what seemed like a nightmare this morning, I wanted to see for myself that you were alright.” His eyes are sincere, as I hold his hand in mine. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better to be my guardian. “As long as you’re here, I’ll always be alright.” I couldn’t help but smile at him. I was starting to forget my parents were still in the car, because my mom was calling my name when I heard their voices again. “Hmm?” I ask her.

“I was just asking where you’d like to go for lunch.” She repeats herself. I didn't realise I completely stop listening to them, I'd only paid attention to Jimin in that short span of time. I was just so glad that he was back, because to be honest with myself, my heart had been beating irrationally this whole time. Worried he'd never comeback, I couldn't help but feel anxious. Maybe I should get use to it though, seeing as he was breaking rules letting me see him. Letting me know he exists, not that he ever mentioned it, but I was starting to realise it. “Anywhere is fine.” I smiled slowly at my mom as she nodded, my dad pulled out of the parking lot, taking us wherever. I could only look back to Jimin, trying to burn his image in my head, in case the ones upstairs decided it was time he stopped visiting me.

My parents started talking again and I commented here and there, as I did I felt Jimin’s hand leave mine. He was gone again. I fought the anxiety that was building up inside me, and tried to keep smiling for my parents. We finally made it to a restaurant we use to frequent when I was much younger. We made it in, and got seated almost immediately and just as quickly got our orders taken. “Sweetie.” My mom spoke to me, fixing her shirt.

“Yeah?” I gave her my full attention, waiting for her to say what was on her mind. “You never told us why you had the week of from both work and school.” She wondered, which she was right about, I’d only mentioned I had the week off but never explained why to her. I was still quite shocked at what was happening in school to be honest. “I still can’t believe why myself, but apparently the dean and couple professors have been money laundering with the students tuitions.” I shook my head slight as I sighed. Both my parents went wide eyed, not being able to believe it. “Money laundering?” My dad repeated as I nodded my head, insuring him that’s what I’d said. There reactions were similar to mine, when Rae had first told me.

“Yeah, Rae said that one of our professors was involved so there was a chance that by the time we went back to school, we’d have a new professors.” My mother raised an eyebrow as if saying wow. Which I agreed to. “What about work?” My dad questioned. I took a sip of my drink before answering his questions. I made a mental note to call Stephen later this week, see how he's doing. Poor guy, I could only imagine what he was going through. He'd seemed so rough the last time I'd seen him at work. “My boss gave us the week off, apparently his mother was in an accident. He just didn't want to deal with the shop, since he had to go and take care of her.” They both nodded, taking in the information.

“Poor guy, is his mother badly injured?” Mom inquiries, but frankly I didn't know. Stephen didn't give us any specifics, and I didn't blame him. He didn't have to tell us, if he wanted to keep his private life as that, private, then I was okay with that. “I'm not sure, he didn't say. He looked really stressed out though. I hope she's okay.” I sighed, I really hoped for the best for him and his family. The rest of the lunch went peacefully as we reminisced. Silly things I use to do as a child, places we'd use to go together, or short vacations we'd go on. I'd missed my parents and spending today with them was great. I felt refreshed.

That was until we'd gotten home, and I realised that I still didn't have my wallet or anything with me. Which of course I needed. I knew my parents could probably buy my ticket for me without a problem, as a matter of fact they insisted once I told them why I needed to go to the bank. But I didn't want to rely on them or their money. So, I walked to the bank that was near our house. Of course, dad argued that he could drive me, but it was in walking distance and I didn't mind. Eventually he gave up and they let me walk. The walk there was around ten minutes, which wasn't too bad, but it was chilly out so I was glad I decided to put on a sweater. I just hadn’t noticed that I’d mindlessly put on Jimin’s sweater until my mom pointed it out, before I’d left.

“Is that a man’s sweater?” She asked me, as she inspected it. I was caught by surprise, looking down at it. “Oh… I uh… I saw it at a store and really liked it. I didn’t mind that it was a man’s. Why? Does it look okay?” I asked her, trying to sound as innocent as possible. She brushed it off saying it looked nice on e regardless and walked away to the living room with my dad.

It still had his scent on it, strong vanilla with slight lavender and roses. I missed that smell. These days, his stress was making him change in all aspects. His light was dimmed, his roots turning black, his scent barely there, and our connection was weak. But his sweater reminded me of how cheerful and full of light he was when I first met him. I wished I could do something to help him get over his stress. I made it to the bank sooner than I thought, must have been because I was so caught up thinking of my guardian. “Hi, how can I help you today?” The woman behind the desk asked as she looked away from her computer screen. Her perfectly placed dark brown hair. Not a strand out of place.

“Hi, I just wanted to take out some money. I’m here on vacation, but I forgot my wallet at home. I wondering if I could do something about it?” I asked her. She smiled kindly, nodding at me, typing something into her keyboard. “Of course, do you have your ID?” She asked me, and I reached into my purse. Thankfully I had left a second ID at home with my parents before leaving to college. I got it out and handed it to the woman her took a look before typing some more. The process wasn’t as hard as I had imagined. She just asked a couple questions that seemed to be routinely. Once she’d given me my money inside a little envelope which I stuffed in my purse, I walked out. Before heading home I decided I wanted to buy some junk food from a convenience store that was close. Little did I know I’d run into David here, much less in my hometown. An odd thought that he’d been stalking me came to mind, but I remembered that he’d said he loved in a different town as well. Maybe he was here visiting as well.

“Y/n? Hey? How are you doing?” He asks, walking closer to me. I smiled at him as he leaned in for a hug. I didn’t want to be rude so I returned it. “I’m fine, I’m sorry about the other day. I really didn’t mean to just leave you there.” I sigh, feeling sorry that I’d done that to him, he didn’t do anything wrong. But I also just couldn’t be there, after what I’d gone through before that, I just needed to run away. “Don’t worry about it, I understand.” He smiles back. I nodded, walking with him through the store as we got what we needed.

“I’d like to take you out soon though, like we said that night.” He smiles, paying for his things, as I wait for him. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go out with him. Leading him on wasn’t fair, and to be quite frank I don’t even know what took over me that night that made me say and agree to things I wasn’t truly feeling.

He’s everything I’ve ever wanted, how could I say no? My mind started up again, just like that night. The vacancy inside my chest coming back just as addictive yet unpleasant as before. The sudden emptiness taking my breath away. But I was quick to regain it, a little use to it. “Yeah… you know what?” I pause, thinking of what I was about to say.

Just say yes, look at those pink lips. So kissable. I need to try them. My voice was starting to become more seductive, but it was odd, didn’t sound exactly like myself. I was confused. “Let’s do it. I've been meaning to see you again.” I was confused at my own words, but I went along with them, even if I wanted to disagree, I couldn’t bring myself to do so. I couldn’t explain why either. But I did notice that everytime I spoke in such away to him, or the thoughts that I was having came to mind, the smell of lavender and roses was growing stronger.

His smile grew from ear to ear which made me do so as well. “Oh great, I’d love that. Maybe when we get back? I know the perfect place to go to. I think you’ll really like it.” He speaks as he guides me out of the store. I just nod my head, walking close to him.

“Sounds great, getting to know you better. We barely got the chance to last time,” I pout slightly, looking up at him. “and I know from the short time we spent together last time, it’ll be fun doing so.” His cheeks stained with a rosy color that I knew well enough it wasn’t from the cold breeze. “But David, you never said why you’re in town.” I wondered out loud.

“Oh, I came to pick something up from a friend who lives here. Since we have the week off school, I decided I’d stay over a little longer. Haven’t seen the guy in a couple months.” He explained with ease, and I nodded as he did, taking in the information as I walked. Relief when he explained, the thoughts of him stalking me escaping. I breathed a little more freely after that. “Are you here visiting someone too?” He questions me now.

“Uh, yeah I came to visit my parents.” I smiled, we were getting closer to the street I had to take a turn on, which meant I may have to say goodbye to David. “Oh that's right. You mentioned you lived two cities away.” His face expressing the sudden remembrance to the piece of information I'd told him that night. I giggled slightly at it, before we were interrupted.

“Malum? What are you doing?” Jimin's familiar voice calls out to me, as I hear his footsteps get closer. My mind told me to ignore him, because if I responded, David would think I was weird, talking to air. My heart dropped in a matter of seconds when David questioned me, however. “Is he talking to you?” He asked, and I realised Jimin wasn't hiding, he was making himself visible to David. I turned around to face him. I noticed the black in his hair was starting to pass being just in his roots. Was he okay?

“Ji… What are you doing here?” I stopped myself from saying his name, not wanting David to hear. Instead I questioned him on his presence, and the fact that he was openly letting David see him. “Your mother sent me out to get you, she felt you were taking too long. Was a bit worried.” He explained as he grabbed the bag from my hand. Obviously I knew he was lying, but why was he? “Let's go home, yeah?” He gestured towards my house with a slight nod of his head.

“Who is he?” David questioned, his expression was a bit bitter at Jimin, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't notice Jimin's sour one as well. “Uh, who are you?” Jimin retorted. My eyes going wide for a second. “This is just, uh… My neighbor, were childhood friends.” I giggled as I tried to come up with an excuse on the spot, hoping David would ignore Jimin's comment. “I really should get going now.” I smiled, I was about to hug him goodbye, but Jimin's hand slipped in mine, catching me off guard. He pulled me away towards my house, all I could do was wave at David instead, as he stood their dumbfounded. His expression growing more confused when Jimin snaked his arm around my waist and kissed near my temple. Leaving me just as confused, as I looked up at him.

I would have said something, but I was just so speechless at Jimin's actions. Once we were a couple houses away from mine, I took my bag and pushed him away. “What were you thinking?” I angrily said, as I walked away. My mom and dad were chatting in the kitchen and didn't stop to ask what they were up to, instead just announcing I was home before rushing up to my room. “What was I thinking? What about you?” Jimin's voice was a bit louder than it usually was with me, a tad bit aggressive as well. I was use to him scolding me sometimes, but even then it was sweet and calm. This? I'd never heard from him, he was so different now.

“Me? I did nothing wrong? I was talking to a friend, coming home. Until you decided to show up, and reveal yourself to him. What the hell was that about?” I fought back, my voice wanting to yell at him, but I knew I couldn't. My parents would come and ask what was going on, and that was out of the question. “Out of all people, him? After what happened a couple nights ago? I don't want you around him. Is that too much to ask? Only look at me. I've told you, you're mine,” He takes a few steps closer to me, his stare is intense, and where his usually brown eyes that had a spark of light in them use to reside, are now deep dark brown eyes that could easily be mistaken for black. An emotion I wasn't familiar with expressed in them. “I need to know you're safe.” I felt like my body was floating, my mind was not existent now, and I was losing myself inside his eyes. That was until I realised that the moment his words left his lips, the black in his hair start consuming the blonde that was left. At the same time, the little bit of light that still followed him was gone, nothing at all was left. I wasn't sure why, but I felt a piece of me leave, in that instant. A single tear fell from my eye, as I reached to touch his hair.

“What's happening to you?” I questioned, my fingers touching the dark strands. The blonde disappeared so quickly, leaving nothing behind but black hair that resembled the feathers of a raven sitting on a windowsill. My heart ached, as I wasn't sure who was standing in front of me anymore. His hand wasn't as warm as it use to be, as he wrapped it around my wrist. His soft lips leaving a kiss on my hand. “I've told you, it's just stress.” I couldn't help but think that I was the one causing him all that stress. He didn't want me around David because of what happened the last time I was with him. He was afraid I would be in danger around him. Here I was, trying to relive his stress, but I was just adding on to it.

“I'm… I'm sorry, I'll stay away from him. Just, please don't worry so much.” I needed to find a way to help him, I just wasn't sure how. “I just need to have you here with me, and everything will be okay.” He pulls me into his embrace, one that feels oddly different in a pool of familiarity.

I was his? As I let him hold me, his words came back and repeated themselves in my head. Only look at me. What did he mean?

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