━ imagine cursing gojo.

the sight of his body, an empty shell, burgundy poison pooling on the ground beneath him had gouged grief into your heart. satoru, your satoru, your satoru. gone. you don't remember much of that day. just the sensation of the air in the room being sucked away, the sensation of being unable to breathe. your ribs withering in your chest, squeezing your lungs together, breaking your breath down into shallow gasps.

all you could feel was the loss of him.

you'd decided that you couldn't bear a world without him in it. and with a scream of primal rage, you'd rewritten everything. tethered him back to this world, to you, by sheer force of your will alone.

you wonder if that hadn't been satoru's lingering feelings as well. the free-spirited satoru, who had chaffed at rules, at restrictions, willingly condemning himself to a lifetime of servitude, bound to follow your every command for as long as you lived.

it isn't something that you like to broadcast to the world. even now, memories of yourself and satoru are held close to your heart, burning like a naked flame against your bare skin. but looking at the vulnerable, hollow-cheeked child curled up into himself, wrapping his grief and hatred around him like the warmth of a blanket, you can't help but think that it's a familiar sight.

only shoko and suguru had been around to help you pick up the pieces, to put you back together again. even if there were parts of you which hadn't mended right.

i understand what you're going through, you'd told yuta, feeling as though the words were being torn from your throat.

how could you, yuta had replied, dry-eyed and despairing, almost as though he was pleading with you to have a solution for the problems gathering atop his shoulders.

satoru, you call out, your voice a melodic siren's song. you place your fingers on your bracelet. it had been an early birthday present from satoru. you run your fingers over the tiny pecks of gold, and the delicate ridges, watching as the sunflower charm sways to the rhythm of an invisible breeze. power thrums beneath your skin, satoru begging wordlessly for you to call upon him. i need you.