Chapter Text
His eyes were closed, resting behind the tinted veil of his sunglasses, but the sounds at the edges of his consciousness painted a vivid picture of the world around him. He tried to shield himself from the cacophony of tires humming against the gravel road, the intrusive pop music, the exuberant shrieks of the kids. He tried to focus, instead, in the vague silhouettes that drifted behind his closed eyelids running like a film reel. The ocean roared on the side of the road. They were close, then. Soon, he would have to open his eyes. But for now, there was only him and the summer sunlight filtering through the window, casting a mosaic of oranges, yellows, and blues behind his eyelids.
Him, and the summer sunlight by the ocean. In another life— in another time— it wasn’t just him then. That summer, in Okinawa. He wasn’t alone. In retrospect, there seemed to be far more people than he would have preferred. A smile curved his lips at this memory, thinking of everything he did that summer; and everything he could have done, but didn’t. He thought of long days spent lazing by the beach, of cold watermelon slices and warm fire pits, of sweet drinks and seafood. He thought of his youth, that summer. He was only seventeen. Life as he came to know it had not yet begun. At seventeen, awareness was confined to the moment sprawling ahead, a panorama within his cerulean gaze. He wasn’t aware, that summer, of the inscrutable undercurrent within his heart, dormant and waiting to ascend, like a blue phoenix at the peak of the sky. He was oblivious to what he felt, then, for him.
He forced himself to open his eyes, sliding his sunglasses up to rest in his hair. His eyes found their way to the rearview mirror, meeting Namani’s. He contorted his face into a wide smile, which was returned with a pointed look, before Nanami’s eyes reverted to the road stretching ahead. His smile lingered as he shook his head.
“Sensei, were you sleeping?” Yuji’s voice made him look up at the front seat.
“Just resting my eyes. Gotta prepare for all the fun we will have once we reach. Whaddya say Nanamin?”
“I request you to stop calling me that, especially in front of the students,” Nanami said from his seat, not even sparing them a glance, as Yuji and Nobara erupted in a fit of cackling. “If you have so much energy, maybe you should be driving, Gojo-san.”
“Nuh-uh, I am saving my energy for the beach!”
His remark resulted in the kids returning to their conversation about their vacation plans. A vacation was a rarity in Jujutsu High, even if it were for just a weekend. But things were changing, even if only by the blatant demands of Satoru Gojo. But it was undeniably the responsible thing to do. The children deserved some time to be free of the demands of Jujutsu society. They deserved to be kids who enjoyed their youth.
He directed his gaze out the window, nudging Megumi at his side, who was content to let the others talk among themselves, save for the occasional remark. Megumi turned towards him, and he asked him to look out the window. The ocean stretched in a tapestry of azure, glowing under the hot sun, sprawled out in full view behind the guardrail. Cracking open the windows invited the scent of sea spray in the confines of the car. The scent of summer, he mused. The scent of that summer of his youth.
He extended his arm out the window, swaying his fingers, touching the sea breeze that danced around his fingertips. He tried not to think of him. He tried not to think of how the whole of Jujutsu society had celebrated, that Christmas. Even against all the deaths, they celebrated his.
He shook his head, bringing his eyes back to the landscape before him. The world glistened under the radiance of the sun; the coconut tree leaves swayed in the summer breeze. He could feel the heat radiating from the charcoal of the seaside highway, leading him to undo the top button of his blue shirt. There were signs of change here— signs of development since he had last been here. The cityscape would be a bustling welcome; the tourists loud and crowding every spot. But when he looked at the ocean, it all ceased to matter. He could close his eyes and feel himself slipping back in time, back before it all happened.
It was at the cusp of his youth, that summer. He supposed he should count his lucky stars that he could still be here while some others weren’t. Here he remained, a part of Jujutsu society, following a path he envisioned, once upon a time, before their fates unfolded as they did. In his head he found himself mourning him yet again, everything he could have been— everything they could have been. The grief spread its roots, anchoring itself in the pits of his broken heart, and stayed there, waiting for sunlight in the form of burning memories and stolen moments. And he permitted himself this ritual; reach into his heart and feel that grief that never quite left, the wound that never quite healed.
When he looked around him, he only saw everything that wasn’t right, absences of what should have been. His absence found its way into the confines of his daily life, taunting him as he had once done. He should have been a teacher, a mentor to these kids who could desperately use his guidance. He should have been beside him and Shoko, visiting places in Japan when missions were low. They should have been going on missions together, getting rid of curses and helping the non-sorcerers. They should have been together. He should have stayed.
But he didn’t.
So, it was just him now— musing, reminiscing, mourning. He allowed himself this respite, to gaze upon the ocean and conjure him, if only in his memories. So what if he couldn’t even fathom saying his name? So what if he couldn’t hear his own name said from any other mouth but his, wincing at the sound of it? It was his curse to live with. And he would endure it, for no one but he would remember him otherwise.
As the sunlight shined with it tapestry of hidden hues across the interior of the car, he let his fingers linger in the gentle caress of the sea breeze. The future, demanding and everchanging, lay awaiting his presence. Yet, in this fleeting moment, he was content, to linger in the embrace of the past. He let himself rest in the warm leather of the seat, closing his eyes, an ethereal hush enveloping him. His mind allowed him a distant sanctuary within the embrace of a memory— how his lips uttered his name, each syllable clear and precise, a fragment of his velvet voice. He pulled himself into the memory, of that indelible summer that remained etched into the corners of his heart.