dear hamlet | YANDERE!GOJO SATORU

TWENTY FOUR: SUKUNA'S FINGERS AND DESTINY.

You shake your head. No, no, no. You were thinking nonsense. You were out of your fucking mind to even think that Satoru had a hand in killing your parents. Yes, that was just it–you were going out of your mind, because the only other option would be to stew in the maddening grief of your brain by staying.

But the thought haunted you. What if he did all that? Just to have an excuse to kill off Sato, with your thumb squishing him out of his existence as if he was an ant? What if he did all that just to close the chasm between the two of you, the careful proximity you had set up around other people ever since your biological father's disappearance and Sato's betrayal? What if he truly was the antichrist and did all the bad things you thought Satoru was incapable of doing, because he is a jujutsu sorcerer, and being one meant you had to be crazy?

You shake your head. You dispose of your thoughts like one might drown a litter of unwanted kittens: the mewling, scratching and scuffling all muffled out by the thick material of the burlack bag of your head.

You fold the paper and stuff it back into your pocket to reach for your keys, only to notice a recognizable mop of pink hair standing outside Satoru's gates.

"Hey. You're one of Satoru's students, aren't you?" You ask casually, causing him to spin around. He cheerfully grins, and you hum in self-satisfaction. "What's your name, kid?"

"I'm Itadori Yuji," He says. "You're (last name) (first name), right? Gojo talks about you all the time."

You click open the gates. It screeches open. "Does he now?"

"Yep!" Itadori stares at you through the black bars of the gates, and you quirk an eyebrow at him. It seemed as if he was waiting for you to invite him in.

"You can come in, you know."

"Oh, phew! I was waiting for your confirmation," He gleefully stepped through and into the garden, where the path leading to the mansion was holding up two pairs of shoes. You're in front of him as you lead the way. The second key to the mansion is opened and the main door to the home ker-chunks open, and the smell of inhabited timelessness seeps out like a wafty smell.

"Make yourself home," You say from the kitchen. "Do you want some soda?"

"Yes please!" He says, sitting on the black couch. You open the fridge door and pull out two coca-cola cans, blood-red in your hands, and enter the capacious living room. You toss one can to Itadori who expertly catches it with one hand.

"Nice catch."

"Thanks. Before I got into jujutsu, my highschool coach was insistent I join the sports team," He explains, cracking open the can. It fizzles, and you take a sip. You lean back on the seat opposite of him and hike a leg over another. "But then my grandpa died. And then I met Megumi. And things just started to fall into place."

You nod. "My condolences. I know what it's like to lose someone you love."

He sympathetically hums, swallowing a mouthful of his drink. "Y'know, I've heard things about your family...is it true that they were–"

"Killed because of Sukuna's fingers? Yeah," You say, trying to swallow back the iron hands that were threatening to crush your windpipe. The mere memory of your mother, torn in half, blood splashed everywhere like water on a rainy day, made you sick to your stomach. You sigh, putting the can down on the glass coffee table and resting the heel of your hands on your hairline, elbows pressed against your knees. You look down on your lap; small, bitter tears form on your waterline. "Stupid idiot got ahold of Sukuna's finger–"

"Who?"

"Sato. My ex."

"Huh, really? That's weird," Itadori says. He takes another sip of his coca-cola and says, "Gojo usually catches them before they fall into civilian hands."