#kenjaku feeling enough towards yuuji to thank his old friend

[lavenderjewels]

this chapter of jjk changed my brain chemistry

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

tags: ghost!gojo x f!reader, mentions of death, manga spoilers, mentions of character death(s), mentions of sick parents, reader being nurturing, satoru being intruiged by reader, reader talking to herself even though she knows she's being listened to, slight fluff at the end, gojo feeling some type of way word count: 2.2k a/n: someone help me name this series. this is the quickest time I've written a pt. 2 after a part 1. also, shout out to mitski's my love mine all mine for the extra kick to finish the end. I was supposed to sleep 2 hrs ago, so here's the unedited chapter. here is part 1. some inspiration to the gojo clan home: photo 1,

5 months into your arrival as his nephew's tutor, satoru thinks you've finally accepted his presence, yet he never plans to outwardly reach out to you because what if you told his family in the estate?

he should feel relieved over this, but bringing his clan in this issue would surely bring more problems than he'd like to admit. if he were 'dead' now, imagine what his clan would do once he really died?

shortly before finishing his fight with kenjaku, satoru was blindly cursed. "I may not be able to bring the strongest with me, but I will curse you, satoru gojo," the words still echo in the back of his head.

"your spirit will remain the same, your being remains, but you will be here no more, in the presence for others to see. you shall remain invisible, a ghost to all, and you'll be lucky to be noticed by anyone who does not already know your inherit value as a sorcerer. known by all, but never remembered."

satoru thinks back to that fateful day, ending the life of a stranger inside the body of his best friend, the epitome of his youth, hopes, and aspirations. satoru remembers the look on his student's faces, blank disappointment. either at him or themselves, but he knows it's geared towards him. shoko's knuckles barely turn white as her lips press into a tight line, while yuuji chokes on air as he's on his knees, other students at his side, attempting to console him while megumi lays unconscious several feet away. he turns out okay in the end, with a minor concussion and a few injuries he'd like to thank shoko for fixing up, the boy lives.

and on that day, gojo satoru died from the face of the earth.

he doesn't know how or why he ended up in his estate. a large, but quaint home with endless scenery and a garden right out of a movie. the house still holds traditional japanese elements, but the peony shrubs his mother had planted stick out like a sore thumb.

just like her.

young, beautiful, and once full of life. hopeful to marry into a family that would one day accept her albeit she was a foreigner, marrying a man whom she thought was serious and sophisticated enough to handle marriage.

but oh how foolish we are to assume the best in others when it comes to matters of the heart.

when he was alive, satoru would regularly check in with the old nanny, ensuring that the shrubs were trimmed and water just right. he knew just how much those flowers meant to his mother. a pretty housewife who no matter what she did was never enough to impress the clan.

until satoru was born. her pride and joy, holding no mind to the comments of his white hair and how he held ancestral resemblance to an ancient sorcerer from within the clan. all his mother knew was that she was head over heels in love with the peaceful human she was able to carry for nine months. no concern for the future, only hope that his son would see and be treated with the humanness he deserved to have. but oh how fate twists. one thing leads to another and his mother now requires a blanket everywhere she goes. she still hangs out in the gardens, spending what time she can with her son who is now 5, nearly 6. and then she's bed bound, finding solace in the brush stokes against the canvas and the warmth of her son.

sometimes, satoru carries the bitter reminder yet anger towards his father. he never saw them happy, only formal and curt, almost as if being together was a chore for him, and his mother's smile would falter when he would avoid a hug from her. the smell of cheap vanilla perfume stained his coat, hanging by his arm, and satoru's mother would simply look towards the ground. almost in shame.

he never loved his mother, satoru then realized as an adult. not even bring her up in the lonely nights, reminisce her life, what they shared, it was as if she was a long-forgotten chapter in his life.

you arrive in august, cheerful and kind. he thinks you won't last long because his family demands unreasonably long hours and surely your boyfriend back home would not approve, but he was surprised, 3 months in your stay that you continued to tutor his nephew. you seemed much more genuine than any other temporary nanny he had when he was a kid, satoru thinks, but then again he and hotaru are completely different in terms of cursed energy.

when november is nearing it's end, you decide to stay a few extra minutes in the garden. hotaru has now joined his family for dinner, and he watches the estate nanny walk towards you and hand you a mug. he can't quite hear what you're both saying since the leaves rustle a little too loudly for his liking, but he notices the 'oh' you make is serious, followed by a nervous chuckle after the nanny had said something.

satoru wonders what you must have said as the nanny suddenly rises from the garden stone bench, looking at his direction as he leans against a tree. she tells you something before departing, and you sigh moments later.

"I can feel you're around, you've been watching us for some time, and I know it." you speak almost so knowingly that it makes satoru swallow the lump at the back of his throat, but the feeling quickly dissipates as soon as the white housecat, mochi, startles you.

you leave shortly after.

12 days of your normal routine pass when satoru notices something is wrong. hotaru doesn't eat as much and at night, he calls for you. "you'll spoil him if you keep letting him be around that commoner," a distant aunt of satoru, one who he wasn't particularly fond of sneers at the nanny, "now he's calling her before bedtime,"

"he's 5," the nanny says, almost defensively. if anyone were to speak to his aunt like that then the staff would have surely been fired, but after working in the estate for nearly 30 years, satoru's father would have prohibited the dismissal of a staff member with this much seniority over something like this. "his mother is ill, and the boy's tutor has been his only maternal rock at this point. he doesn't open up to anyone but her, so we would be doing the nephew of gojo satoru a disservice by treating his nephew the way you treat him." satoru watched at how furiously the woman's brows furrowed then softened, speechless and at a loss for words before she gives up and leaves.

within an hour, you are quick to make it to the estate with a much more informal set of clothes. a pair of joggers and loungewear ideal for the nearing winter. it is past 10 when you hold the boy in his arms, talk to him about his problems, make a pinky promise (not just any promise) with him, and read him a bedtime story you had so thoughtfully decided to bring in your bag.

within minutes, the boy instantly falls asleep tucked to your side and the look you hold in your face makes satoru stare in admiration as he sits from one of the rocking chairs across the room. gently placing the book down, you kiss hotaru's forehead. "I'll see you on thursday," you promise the sleeping child before heading outside where hatoru's nanny greets you. she bows her head momentarily.

"we cannot thank you enough for your work, miss." she says, hands formally clasped together at her front. "we have made sleeping arrangements for you to stay the night. we insist, as a commute back home at this hour is late," she adds, "we have set up nightwear and can even prepare dinner for you miss."

"thank you," you say simply, politely, "I... I really don't mean to intrude nor cause any-"

"oh you could never," the woman says, "please, allow us to be your host for the night. and do not worry about waking up at an hour in fear of inconveniencing us. we have multiple guest bedrooms and would be honored to let you stay."

satoru notices the expression in your face soften as he knows that you can't possibly say no know, so you accept. choosing to spend the night. the staff set you up in a nice, private room with your own exit to the gardens. and the estate chef sends you his best soup and side dishes to fill your stomach on this cold night.

"you clearly don't have to worry about anything in here," you speak lowly but loudly enough for satoru to hear. you sit and lean against your slide shift door, facing the garden as satoru sits on the wooden surface of the 'sidewalk' (referenced in photo one). and he nearly wants to laugh at your comment, swaying his feet that he almost kicks some of the pebbled stones.

"but... hotaru still worries," you definitely have his attention now as you sigh softly, troubled, not knowing the spirit of hotaru's uncle listens to you.

"sometimes... I don't know what to do. sometimes... I feel like I can cross a boundary, but I'm an employee at the end of the day. how can I act as his therapist without... being this motherly to him?"

there was clearly a problem that satoru didn't know the answer to, but he sympathized with you trying to take on as many roles as you possibly could. he knew how complicated his family clan was. how you would always and forever walk on eggshells around them and no matter what you accomplished, it was never enough.

"I try, I really do..." your murmur to yourself, and a long silence passes as you sit in the quietness of the room. "I..." you chuckled, "I'm sorry, I can't believe I'm doing this- talking to myself, hoping something or some spirit is listening when in reality I'm just speaking to myself like a complete fool, or a japanese spirit is here right now truly mind boggled as a girl speaks in english," you stand to your feet and chuckle, heading to your bed. as satoru hears yourself bickering, the corner if his lip tugs ever so slightly upwards.

he wants to say something. thinks about what the possibility of you talking with him would be like. and as you're making your way to the bed, you still go off on a tangent.

"...no, I bet they do understand me." you argue with yourself, lecturing as if you had your own personal podcast, "if feelings are universal, so are energies and vibrations... meaning one of two things." now you're walking back and forth, concentrated on your own footsteps. satoru wants to chuckle, scare you off even, but this entertainment was the best thing he's had since he could remember. so he decided to wait this one out.

"1- the spirits must think I'm an idiot, I mean I already look like one here, but... 2, they can sense my energy." satoru feels his figurative heart drop to his stomach when you instantly look in his direction, did you know he was here all along? he thinks for a split moment, your eyes sharp with knowing.

you shudder, as your hairs stand on the sides of your arms. not unpleasantly, but enough to know some energy besides your own was here. after a short consideration, you speak.

"move a pebble if you're here," your eyes don't leave his direction, and satoru sits motionless, almost afraid you could see the real him, break all notions of metaphysical theories and curses, and then, you walk towards him; sitting criss cross applesauce.

"I know you're here," softly, you whisper, and satoru can see how you're cold, hugging your frame as your jaw slightly tenses. "I just don't know if you choose to ignore my attempts because you want to or because you genuinely can't communicate," your energy warms him, he doesn't know how else to describe it as you lean closer and closer. he thinks that if he were still alive, then you'd probably make fun of his faltered composure.

I don't know how, he wants to say, but deep down, if he wanted to try he could. he just didn't have the guts to do it.

a long minute passes, you wait patiently before you sigh, but not in defeat. "but either way, I'll be here. and your nephew will be okay. I don't know if that's the reason why you're here, but..." you trail, eyes fixated on the garden as your brows furrow and unfurrow, "...he's going to be okay." shortly after, you stand up, closing the conversation, and satoru senses he shouldn't be here anymore as you make your way to the bed. taking his cue, he leaves with a fuzzy feeling in his chest, remembering your words that oddly felt like a promise. one he hasn't been made to in forever.

he could learn to trust you.