The Strongest | ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ

Chapter 39

There's a silence between us that's never been here before. It's a silence filled with so many words we want to say, but neither of us dares to. Neither of us has the strength to go first, to spill their secrets first. Maybe we rushed into this too fast. Maybe we should have just stuck to light conversation and -

No. It's enough. I've officially had enough. This can't go on; this shaking in my boots for no good reason. I put my life in danger every day for my job, so this is nothing compared to it. This is just Gojo. There's no reason for me to be afraid of him. I guess I'm just afraid of losing him, losing what we built in such a short time.

But that's not a good enough reason. It's just not good enough to keep me silent. "Shoko asked me if I liked you, and I said I have to figure that out, and I did. I do. I do like you." The words fall from my lips all on their own, as if they've been waiting to be said for such a long time. I don't even know for how long. Too long.

My heart clenches for one, two, three, four seconds until Gojo's face breaks into the biggest smile I've seen on it yet, and my heart relaxes. This smile feels like your favorite song makes you feel after a bad day. Like a cup of hot chocolate on a rainy night. Like the first breath of spring when you open your windows. This smile is everything I've wanted in my life and more. It's everything I'm going to see from now on when I close my eyes, when I sleep, when I die. With every breath I breathe, I will remember this smile on his lips and the words he says next.

"You know, she told me to figure myself out, and I did. I have feelings for you. Feelings I've never had before."

Okay, just kill me already. Just end it. End my life right now, so that this is the last thing I experience, the last words I hear, the last thing I see. I don't even know what to say. This is not the answer I expected. This is... I don't even know. But now that I know that he doesn't hate me after this, I'm not so afraid of saying the truth anymore.

I almost laugh. "You do?" I ask, and he nods. "For how long?"

He shrugs. "I have no idea."

That finally makes me laugh, and after a moment of confused hesitation, Gojo joins in. We sit on my bed and laugh for a while until a happy tear rolls down my face, and I sigh.

"Okay," I say. "Okay, so... Tell me about your childhood."

Gojo laughs again, once, before making himself more comfortable. "My childhood? Wow, you got right to the point. Okay, my childhood. What do you want to know?"

"What was your mother like?" I don't know why, but I suddenly realize I've been wondering that forever. Ever since my family told me about the boy born with the Six Eyes and Limitless. The boy, who was only two years older than me but was destined to achieve much greater things than any of us ever would. But what was that boy raised like? Did his mother give him the warmth I never got from mine? Did his father love him like mine loved me?

"My mother..." Gojo starts, and I recognize that look he's wearing. I've seen it on my own face plenty of times. "She was beautiful. Beloved. Strict. Like my father, she wanted me to be the best I could be. They knew that I had the potential to be the strongest, I just needed to be taught properly."

"That's what school is for. You were taught properly at school, right?" I ask, but I think I know the answer.

"I was. Those were the best years of my life." There's that tone again. He's remembering something. His best friend, probably. Before I can ask, he continues, "But my training started when I was only a few years old. Even as a child, I could do more than most can at our age now."

"Makes sense," is all I can say without being rude to his parents. I can't believe it. He was a child.

He smiles a soft, sad smile, and it breaks my heart to know that I brought up the topic. "Well, in the end, they were right. Look at me now."

I smile at his attempt at humor and nod. "I'm looking." My voice is barely more than a whisper, but I'm not even embarrassed.

"What was your life like after your sister left?" Gojo asks.

A breath gets stuck in my throat. My sister. This is a subject we touched before, but I didn't tell him so much back then. I guess now I'll have to. Now I want to. "She left when I was seventeen, so I wasn't living at home anymore. She used to come by to visit me at school, and she always stayed a little longer to train herself. And one day was the last time she ever came."

"She came to say goodbye to you?"

"No," I state, shaking my head. "She came to tell me not to come after her and not to look for her. She came to say that she'll be happier away from all of this. From all of us. It's been five years. I guess she was right."

I still remember this as the worst day of my life. I can recall every detail of the room we were in when she told me, and I remember the flowers that were blooming outside the window. I remember that I was sitting in that room for a long time even after she had left. I just sat there and stared at nothing. Because that's what she left behind: nothing. I tell Gojo all of this, and he listens.

"My parents called me home that weekend, and I came, but I didn't stay. My mother..." I take a deep breath. "My sister was always her favorite, her firstborn, you know? But after she was gone and it was only me, I noticed that my mother got even colder. She was left with me. I know she would rather have my sister here than me."

"And your father?"

I smile. "My father is different. He's always been different. He told me to go back to school even though my mother fought him on it and said a child had obligations to her parents. He said a child has more obligations to her future than to her parents."

That makes Gojo smile, too. "He sounds like a good man."

"He is."

There's a short silence again in which my heart finds time to slow down from a spring to a jog. "I really want to kiss you," Gojo says.

Well, there goes my jogging heart into a sprint again. I only nod because there's no way I'd be able to speak right now. We scoot closer to each other, my bedsheets crinkle beneath us, until we're so close I can feel his warmth. He puts his soft hands to the sides of my face, and when he leans closer, my eyes flutter shut. His lips against mine feel so soft and careful that I have to press my eyes shut in agony. I want him so much.

At first, the kiss is soft and slow and careful and dizzying, but we somehow find our rhythm and speed up, and it turns fast and desperate and deep and nothing like our last kiss. The last one was born from excitement and a spur of the moment. This one was born from real emotions.

I moan against Gojo's lips, and my fingertips rest softly against the sides of his neck. They trail along his soft skin until they find where his prickly undercut starts. I can feel him taking a deep breath, and everything inside of me tightens. My fingers touch the fabric of his blindfold, and I pull away from the kiss, leaning my forehead against his.

"Can I?" I whisper. I want to see his eyes. "I want to see your eyes."

Gojo nods, and I press a kiss to his smile before leaning back more. I'm a little embarrassed to see that my hands are shaking when I reach up to the back of his head. Layer after layer, I unwrap the white blindfold until it's loose enough and falls down on its own. He closes his eyes for a second and tilts his head down so his hair falls down.

And then he looks at me. And he's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my entire life.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he says, probably because I'm not reacting, not even breathing.

"You're an angel."