WHEN I GET BACK I'LL LAY AROUND

AND I'LL GET UP AND LAY BACK DOWN

ROMANTICISE A QUIET LIFE

i know the end,

Your dorm is illuminated by the dimming sunshine sifting through closed curtains, a shroud of darkness that reminds one of the lacking shadow behind a burning flame. It was a heavy blackness, but that did not give it the semblance of an omen as you had expected it to but a meandering warmth as you slept away in the comfort of your bed.

After you had fainted, Gojo-sensei had Ijichi-san carry you back to your dorm, cackling at how his co-worker was slaving away. Hours trickled by slowly but soon you awake to an unknown sound.

Someone's voice pierces the painful headache you have been burdened with, making your impenetrably heavy eyelids open a little.

"Oh, [L/n]-san!"

You turn to the side, shrugging it off, because it sounded too playful. It felt muffled as you listened, having blocked out so many things in your head.

They don't relent, "Pst! [L/n]! I have a surprise!"

Your eyelids flutter much like a dazed, iridescent butterfly, hues of [eye colour] swivelling and fixing on the figure on top of you in bed.

"Itadori?!" Your eyes widen, and you scramble, feeling your back pressed against the wall.

Itadori stares back at you and it leaves you chasing the clouds for breaths. Ivory flecks his face with warmth and a hint of fresh air, as if ichor pulses through his veins from the vibrant smile he gives you. He is no longer a simply memory silhouetted tightly to your soul, as if he can finally breathe again. He's no longer a ghost smiling away in dead ends of the labyrinthine mind.

Your heart skips a beat - did you miss him more than most? He felt like the moon melting to fill your hollow heart with silver, a metaphorical mercury poisoning; maybe love was poison after all. As you look at him, you know it's not love because that word is too big and heavy for the little rushes of adrenaline. Even though your cheeks burn whenever he looks your way, or you smile back at him when you watch those lips tug upwards, this was just a crush. And, just as the name suggests, maybe this emotion will eventually come to destroy you.

"Surprise!" He grins, a thin-lipped smile that covers the width of his face. "Gojo-sensei told me you fainted but I hope you're feeling better."

You suddenly take his hand, struggling to contain your burst of tears upon realising he was alive. A thin aura outlines your figure as you feel the weight of his cursed bones and the blood singing hymns as it moves across his body.

"Me?! I'm more concerned about you!" You splutter, rendered speechless and how close he was to you. "You died!"

You had admired his lips from far, like how he bit them when deep in thought or chewed on the end of his pencil during class. Those lips were inches away from yours and they are steeped in acetone, polished to a brim and perfected every possible shade of diluted pink.

"It feels good to be back," He smiles, lifting his hand for a high-five and you do the same.

His touch isn't devoid, as if you were looking at a corpse - it's brimming with fiery humbled, confidence. It made you think that death was biting at his heels from the shadows, curled up and struggling to strangle the life out of the carefree teenager before you. Itadori's perseverance was unlike no other, strengthened by a promise to a dead loved one.

Itadori moves so you can swing your legs to the side, "You know, I wasn't really dead. Right before I died, I still heard everything."

You press your eyes shut momentarily, caught up in that memory like you were a fly and Sukuna was the spider. "You said... You said to 'live a long life.'"

Lowering your head in shame, your fingers curl around your blanket, "I'm so sorry, Yuuji. I'm so sorry."

"Hey," Itadori shuffles closer, speaking in a soft voice, "Look at me. Please don't cry. I'm the one who should be sorry because you took my death really hard."

You do as he says and look at him; his gaze is as gentle as autumn rain. "I didn't save you..." Bitter sadness chokes you as you lift your hands and press your fingertips lightly against his chest, feeling the soft material of his shirt and then the bones resting behind his skin. His heart feels warm with the curled up sorrow of someone who struggles to live truthfully and you can imagine the hollow space that was left there when that vicious image of Sukuna pulling out his heart appears.

That wound seems imaginary when you feel the thinned out gildess of his ribs, the wishing bones tucked away beneath and suddenly he's reanimated like nothing was ever wrong. As if the images of his falling corpse, his dead smile and even deader eyes are all fake like the plastic petals on the flowers in the shops. But really, as your eyes linger on him, soaked in the curve of his jaw and the honey-dripping skin, he is as real as everything you have ever known.

He lifts your head with his fingers, blinking, "You fought bravely, better than I ever could. Besides," Itadori sighs dreamily, gazing out of the window, "We have the whole world to conquer and learn about. We're not at our limit yet; this is just the beginning."

"Mm," You sigh alongside him, finding solace in the ensuing silence.

Itadori perks up, "Oh, I just remembered! We have to hurry. Gojo-sensei wants to meet us at my new dorm."

He takes your hand and smiles brightly so you trail him out of your room and down cobbled pathways and secret doors all the way to this neverland that you are stumbling into, thinking about how badly you wanted him to be alive. Your eyes glaze over, wandering across the star-strewn universe, because he was right; this is just the beginning.

You wanted to let go of the pain

Even though it was the last thing

That you felt alive from him.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

The room felt damp with cold air, as if it was left unused for so long it had lost its coveted sentience and warmth. Tiles of brown wood form the floor, smooth and classy, presenting a living space you somewhat adored.

"You're a head above the rest when it comes to close combat, Yuuji," Gojo explains, holding up a finger. "So right now what you need to learn is how to control cursed energy as well as the bare minimum of jujutsu knowledge."

He turns and faces you, "You also need this, [F/n], because whether you like it or not, the higher ups won't grow fond of your power. With some help, you might even get on par with my level."

Both you and Itadori are beaming, smiling wildly like you are little kids all over again. "What's the matter?" Gojo deadpans, watching his two students jump up and down with giddy smirks.

"Oh, we figured you'd be the best person to train us, so we're just happy," You reply, your smile unwavering.

Itadori lowers his head, giving a serious response, "I'm weak... I wasn't able to help my friends. Worse, I almost got Fushiguro killed. I want to become strong... so..." He suddenly takes your hand and you bow with him, "Teach us to be the strongest!"

Gojo is silent for a moment, as if stewing something over in that unpickable mind of his. He laughs a little, which was understandable given his position as the strongest shaman alive. "You've got a keen eye," He grins.

"Sensei, you're the one who called yourself the strongest," You blank, tilting your head.

As if wanting to change the topic, Gojo directs your attention to the cans on the stand to your left. They look like they have been gathered from the local shop, sweet drinks, fizzy drinks and ginger beer and more.

"All right," Gojo points to them, "First, take a look at those drink cans over there."

You do as he says and look, eyes widening at what unfolds moments later. The cans twist and turn in an instant, metal caving in as if from an invisible punch. The liquid spills and the item falls over with a sound.

It happens so quickly you don't even have time to register it. Your eyes narrow, I have to increase my response time. I can't fall behind.

"Woah," Both you and Itadori gasp in awe, listening to Gojo further his explanation.

"This is with cursed energy," He points to the first can, which was caved in by a punch, "And this one was with a cursed technique."

Itadori suddenly puts on a Bodhisattva expression, pondering deep in thought as he exercised his brain for the answers. "I see..." He murmurs and then blanks rather humorously, "I don't get it."

"Oh..." You blink, taking a step forward and leaning in to admire the damage done to the cans. "Fushiguro explained some parts of it to me. Cursed energy is like electricity and cursed techniques are like appliances."

Gojo nods brightly, ruffling your hair at your contribution, "Electricity by itself is hard to use, right? That's why we run electricity through appliances to achieve various results."

His explanation was surprisingly accurate and simple - no wonder he chose to be a teacher.

"This one was fire with pure cursed energy," You point to the green can, and then to the yellow one, "And in this one... you channelled cursed energy into a cursed technique?"

"Yup! I did it in order to activate the cursed technique and twist the can with jujutsu."

Itadori looks like a lightbulb just turned on inside his head, a comical neologism for his sudden thought. "In other words, we're about to learn a very, very good cursed technique?!"

Gojo shuts down his enthusiasm almost instantly, "No, you can't use cursed techniques."

"Huh?!" Itadori looks like he's been stabbed and you pat his shoulder with a stifling laugh.

"Setting aside simple shikigami and barriers, cursed techniques are fundamentally etched into your body from the day you're born," He explains, hand on heart. "So the power of a jujutsu sorcerer is roughly 80% innate talent."

You inhale, meekly responding, "Do I have a Cursed Technique, Sensei?"

Gojo remains as still as a statue, hard to define and capturing the wittering of his thoughts is practically impossible given his blindfold. Eyes really are the windows into the soul, huh.

"Your lineage ensures you have one," He says blankly, "But, because I don't know what it is, and nor do you, it would be impossible to tame or learn it now."

Itadori deflates like a trampled balloon, laying on the ground as white as a sheet.

"You okay?" You arch an eyebrow at his antics.

"I just thought I'd be able to pull off thunder or fire or a power bomb or something." Itadori waves his arms around, "This sucks..." He goes on to lament about his sadness but you don't quite understand.

After all, he can't use them... yet. Surely whatever cursed techniques Sukuna employs will be engraved onto his body.

"Let's just ignore what you can't do!" Gojo beams, "We're going to enhance both of your strengths. We'll get you to imbue your fighting style with cursed energy."

Itadori suddenly sits up, "Hey, I can already do it! I did it once back there... when I was fighting that special-grade."

Gojo smirks, and you tell from his stance that he's reeking of confidence. "Alright," He lifts his hand and spreads his fingers, palms facing you and Itadori. "Hit me here."

"Not that you actually can," He adds, coolly.

Itadori starts warming up his arm muscles, equally cool, "Don't blame me if you get hurt."

You stand back calmly, interested in what was going to happen. You hadn't see what Gojo could do yet, just heard from others that he is implicitly fast, and was reputedly the strongest jujutsu sorcerer out there.

Then again, your mind flashes back to Itadori against your P.E coach. Itadori was a contender too...right?

"Just hurry up and do it," Gojo teases.

Itadori prepares a punch and to your surprise, it lands on Gojo's palm, but his arm doesn't waver despite the strength behind the blow.

"That didn't have any cursed energy behind it, right?'" You note, observing how Itadori was lacking the outline of that powerful, effervescent aura you normally saw.

"How?!" He roars, quite surprised.

Gojo seems quite calm, as if keep a cool head was just another of his strong suits. "Negative emotions are the source of cursed energy. In the incident you're referring to, you were probably brimming with anger and fear."

You frown, "You have to be constantly flipping out to used cursed energy?!" No wonder then on the occasions you were using it that you felt like your skull was gonna explode.

"Now that you mention it," Itadori adds, chiming in, "Fushiguro's always a bit snappy."

Gojo shooes away that idea, "Not like that. Everyone's trained to produce cursed energy using the faintest sparks of emotion. They are also trained on how to note waste cursed energy when emotions are flaring, too."

"There are several methods to train this," He grins, thinking about whatever gruelling and hard course he was going to put you on. "I'll be having you two use a pretty exhausting one."

You shiver, imagining Gojo sitting on a park bench and crowing over you and Itadori climbing trees and running laps, sweat trickling furiously down your brow. "L - Like what?"

To your surprise, however, he holds up a bunch of DVDs with colourful posters adorned on the front, "Watching movies."

"Watching movies?" Itadori has an identical stupefied expression to yours.

"Yup," In the blink of an eye, Gojo has them set on the coffee table and you turn, observing the flat screen television and the sofa. "Everything from masterpieces to C-grade horror films and terrible French movies. You'll be watching them nonstop as long as you're awake."

Sorry, what?! The last bit throws you off guard - you prioritise your 12 hours of sleep more than most things.

"Of course, you won't just be watching them," Gojo smirks, pulling out two cursed dolls and you stumble, realising that one of them was the same one Principal Masamichi was stitching together when you had gone to see him. "You'll be watching them with these guys! Say hello to your new best friend!"

You look like you just tasted something, "I already had a best friend and she doesn't wear boxing gloves."

Itadori tilts his head, "What's with the cute but creepy dolls?"

Gojo looks back at it, and you and him say something in unison, "It's cute?"

He hands a doll to each of you, "They are cursed corpses that the principal made."

"Mm, it does have his sense," You note, watching Itadori play around with his doll, "Still, I don't understand what you're getting at here."

"Don't be hasty now," Gojo sticks both of his hands back into his pocket, "You'll see soon."

As he says this, you turn and see Itadori get punched in the face by his doll. Watching it unfold makes you cackle at what happened, and you make sure you don't irk your own doll for a similar fate.

"That cursed doll will wake up and attack you, just like that, if you don't keep pouring a set amount of cursed energy into it," Gojo explains and you have to applaud him for it because it seems like a viable learning technique.

Itadori covers his nose, "Ow!"

"Your first goal is to watch an entire movie," Gojo continues, "From start to finish, without waking the cursed doll. This trains you to maintain a steady output of cursed energy, no matter what emotions you feel."

"That's genius..." You murmur in awe. "We can't use too much or too little."

Gojo picks up a random DVD and moves towards the player beneath the TV, idly chatting while Itadori futily tries to control his doll, "I have it set to the faintest level of cursed energy you can produce right now for you, Yuuji. For [F/n], I'm putting it at a second year level. It will steadily start demanding greater output, so don't let your guard down, the two of you."

Itadori holds the doll away like it's a crying baby, which to some degree you can equate it to, "I couldn't let it down even if I wanted to," He whines, making you faintly smile.

"What do you guys wanna start with?" Gojo grins, "I recommend this one. The heroine's annoying but she dies spectacularly in the end."

"Major spoilers!" You exclaim, but you should have expected it because it's Gojo-sensei after all.

"I say we start off with an action-" Itadori begins cheerfully but his words are cut off by the deafening punch from his cursed doll, which he throws to the ground a second later. "Oh, come on!" He yells as Gojo inputs the DVD quietly.

Gojo brushes the dust off his uniform as soon as the television starts to come alive, "Right! Enjoy your date," He winks, "I'll back when I can. Oh, [F/n], a word outside, please!"

"It's not a date!" Itadori panics even more when you cheekily give him your cursed doll as you dotingly follow Gojo outside.

As soon as the door shuts, the two of you wait until Itadori isn't eavesdropping. Gojo exhales upon hearing his student being punched again, the sound loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Right," He says, and it feels like there is a piercing gaze hidden behind his blindfold, tearing away at the flesh around your heart, "Megumu and Nobara are both training with the second years. I was tempted to send you working with them as well, but... I think we should wait on that."

You look down at your shoes, avoiding him out of disappointment, "They don't know Yu - Itadori is alive," You mumble somewhat incoherently. "I dunno... I don't think I can look either of them in the eye with how I am."

Gojo swings his long arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a much-needed hug, "You'll get there," He hums in his usual carefree tone; still, his words have a deep meaning. "This is just the beginning."

Emotion clings to your tongue so you simply nod, fighting back the tears. If your life was as unsteady as a rollercoaster, you were slowly saving yourself with the handle just in reach of your wobbly fingertips.

"Alright, I have to meet up with the principal, again! Have fun!" Gojo winks and walks away.

He disappears into the distance, almost like he was never here. And you just sigh, looking back at the door, wanting to claw back to the euphoria of your old dreams and your old life, no matter how bitter the polarised sweetness seems from far glances.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

"Alright!" You hold up a DVD with a dark cover on the front, "We've watched every single Mission Impossible film so now, my turn. Time for The Ring."

Itadori shivers, clutching his cursed doll even more tightly, "Please no! I can't handle Samara."

"You have a demon king inside your head," You stick out your tongue childishly, "Samara's got nothing on you."

"How about a rom-com?" Itadori pleads - you give in almost instantly. What can you say? His eyes are something to swoon over, like the swaying tulips lined up across a prairie.

The romcom plays on the television, a compilation of coloured pixels fizzling and changing with speed. Your eyes rove over it, absorbed in the storyline but still maintaining a fallible connection to your cursed doll, whose forehead you massage intensely as it slumbers.