"𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧," 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝.
"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞," 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.
You never wanted to become part of the world of jujutsu sorcerers...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(Image form Tumblr)
****
Being friends with Satoru was fucking hard.
His mere presence had the power to crumble the walls that protected your composure. Every encounter became a silent war—an inner struggle to choose distance over the alluring closeness his aura naturally demanded.
But keeping distance?
Oh, it was a fierce, bitter, and relentless battle.
"Just a few more!" Satoru's voice, melodiously carefree, pierced through the chilly air. You forced your muscles into another agonizing push-up as your body teetered on the brink of collapse.
"Oh, how I adore him," Nobara whispered, her voice lingering beside you.
Autumn has subtly introduced itself. It bathed the world in warm amber and russet hues, gently wrapping the fading memories of summer's vibrancy under its soft blanket. The days began to cool. You could feel a gentle breeze on your skin.
"How much more?" You asked, your voice barely hiding the treacherous trembling of your arms.
"I'm going to throw up," Yuji declared. His face twisted in a strange mixture of effort and rebellion against his stomach's agenda.
Nobara quietly muttered a series of creative curses.
"Hmmm," Satoru peered over his sunglasses. "—just another easy 50."
"Ha. Ha. Haaa?" Yuji's voice scaled up with each syllable.
"You're joking, right?" Nobara asked, her voice a sweet poison.
You glanced over to Megumi for a split second. He seemed to suffer in silence.
The insidious muscle burn has found its way to your core. Ah, the betrayal of one's own body. You hate push-ups. And Satoru. But mostly push-ups, you thought.
And maybe, just maybe, you hated the way your heart still skipped a beat whenever he was near.
"Come on, only a few more. Push through it," Satoru cheered.
Meanwhile, Yuji, now completely horizontal on the ground, announced with dramatic flair, "Go on without me. Save yourselves. Remember me as I was—," his voice fading into an exaggerated death rattle.
Your visible exhale, clouds of warmth dissolving into the crisp air, as you exchanges a quick glance with Satoru. Your heart, that traitorous organ, fluttered at the unexpected sight.
Damn it all.
—49—49—50—Your arms gave way, surrendering to the undeniable pull of the earth below. Your face hit the slightly damp grass, allowing yourself a moment to enjoy the earthy scent and the cool sensation on your overheated skin.
