Mirror Eyes & Bright Blue Skies | Jujutsu Kaisen

Ⅹ. A Dusty Room and Hope that Blooms

Ikuko stared up at the hospital. It loomed over her, just as grim and menacing as she always remembered it, even apart from the cursed energy which oozed out of it like so much puss. Black, putrid, disgusting energy; the air was choked with it, choking her lungs and choking her mind, squeezing out all of the emotions she'd re-buried just that morning.

"Nishimura-san, please let me apologize for Gojo-san," said Ijichi-san, who'd come around the car to stand beside her.

Ikuko turned her head to face the man, knowing she needed to respond, but dragging her thoughts back to the present proved harder than she thought, Ijichi-san's words barely registering before the silence had persisted long enough for him to feel the need to continue.

Ijichi-san sighed, "He's a force of nature and does whatever he wants. It's hardly professional, acting childish most of the time only to drop the act for cruelty, seemingly at a moment's notice. Most of this behavior reflects poorly on jujutsu sorcerers, but I will say that, however unsympathetic his words, that sort of 'tough love' is unfortunately both common and necessary in this line of work. You either learn to take punches quickly, or you die.

"However, as far as I know, you are neither a jujutsu sorcerer nor even a prospective one, so bringing you here against your will and saying such things were completely uncalled for. You have my sincerest apologies," he said and bowed.

Something inside Ikuko recoiled at the apology. Images of Gojo's smiling face flashed through her mind, and she remembered their first meeting, him killing that curse to save her and then transporting her to Jujutsu Tech for treatment. He'd been kind to her, kinder than she deserved, but that hadn't stopped him from doing and saying things that he needed to. First it was angering her in order to release her built up cursed energy. Now this.

Before, she'd always thought she longed for an opportunity to get her troubles off her chest, for someone to talk to who wouldn't throw her in a mental ward for what she said. But Gojo's blunt words, calling her out for putting her secret ahead of the lives of others, forced her to realize something about herself: she'd be happiest if this burden went with her to the grave.

No one needs to know, she had told herself and shaken her head. And then she'd watched that brief, intangible flicker of hurt pass over Gojo's features. 

Something inside her broke, then.

For the first time since meeting the white-haired man, Ikuko wanted to go home. She wanted to go back to waking up in her tiny little apartment, to waving at people from a distance, to never troubling anyone with herself or her problems. It was a dusty room of a life, with its stale air that choked the lungs, but it was simpler, at least.

"Nishimura-san, hurry up! Hurry up!"

Ikuko looked up to see Gojo waving at her from in front of the hospital doors, nearly jumping up and down in his enthusiasm. Another pang of guilt squeezed her gut.

I'll... I'll make it up to him. Whatever he wants me to do in there, I'll do it. But afterwards... I'll ask him to take me home, she resolved, I won't bother him anymore.

Finally, Ikuko shook her head, "Um, thank you, Ijichi-san... but I deserved it. It's not like what he said was wrong."

With that, she hastily bowed, bidding Ijichi-san farewell, and rushed over to where Gojo stood waiting.

"Ready?" he asked.

She turned to look at the doors, fear racing up her spine despite the deep, calming breaths she was taking, "Y-yeah. I'm ready"

He chuckled at that, "You don't sound too sure."

"Well," she started, forcing a teasing tone to try to ease the tension between them, "I mean, you did say you are the strongest, didn't you? Or were you lying, Sato-kun?"