Ataraxia 平静 | Gojo Satoru

-'๑'-𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓𝟏-'๑'-

"I don't understand," I said, because I didn't want to understand.

Ghost—Van's gaze burned into me, his name still tolling in my mind like a dirge for something lost. The air between us seemed to ripple, charged and suffocating, and yet I couldn't look away—not even to breathe.

"I need you to listen to me," he said, his voice a blade wrapped in silk. It should've been careful, but it cut anyway. "If we don't act, your soul will burn itself out entirely. And I'll be left with nothing but a hollow shell."

The words struck like claws, dragging through me until I felt skinned. "And the alternative?"

"A pact," he said, the words falling heavy.  His shoulders straightened, as if bracing for a blow. "One that would bind us fully—permanently. You and I, one entity with two souls."

A chill slid down my spine. "What does that mean?"

He hesitated, an uncharacteristic flicker of uncertainty in his gaze. "It means I wouldn't consume you. We'd coexist, sharing power, sharing a vessel. But—" he exhaled sharply, his golden eyes narrowing, "—it comes at a cost."

I clenched my fists to keep my hands from trembling. "Of course it would." My bitterness tasted like ash. "What kind of cost?"

"You'd have to trust me," he said, each syllable deliberate, pointed, like he was hammering nails into the coffin of my independence. "Completely. I would have access to your power, your thoughts, your emotions. I could manifest outside of you when needed, though it would draw energy from you. And you. . ." He exhaled, his gaze like molten gold. "You'd be able to use my fire as if it were your own."

My hands were freezing. "So you'd have control."

"No," he stepped closer, his presence a storm front rolling in. "Not control. Influence. There's a difference."

"Is there?" My words were colder than I intended, laced with fear I couldn't suppress. "You're asking me to give you everything, Van." I forced myself to speak his true name. "Everything. What's stopping you from taking over entirely?"

His expression hardened. "You think I want that?" His voice rose, uncharacteristically raw. "You think I want to be the monster that destroys the only person who made me feel alive again?"

His words hit like a punch, but the vulnerability in his tone hurt worse. My throat tightened, and still, I refused to let it show. I couldn't.

"This pact isn't just for me," he continued, quieter now but no less intense. "It's for you, too. It'll make you stronger—stronger than you've ever been. You'll be able to wield my power as your own. But it only works if we're in balance. If you don't trust me, if you fight me every step of the way, it'll fail."

My pulse thundered in my ears as I stared at him, searching his face for something—anything—that didn't look like the end of me.

"And if I say no?" I whispered, my voice trembling.

His gaze darkened, unflinching. "Then you die. And I take over."

The finality of his words settled like chains around my chest, each link forged from a decision I didn't know how to make. My mind raced, desperate for a way out, a solution that didn't involve sacrificing so much of myself. But deep down, I knew there wasn't one.

"What does this pact look like?" I asked finally, my voice thin as a knife's edge.

"A seal," he said, gesturing to the space between us. "A tattoo that binds us. It's ancient magic—painful, but permanent."

My legs felt unsteady beneath me. I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could speak, the air around us shifted, heavy and electric.

A voice—sharp and commanding—cut through the tension like a blade. "Yue."