Chapter 13

If it were seventeen-year-old Satoru Gojo, he’d probably be stomping his feet right about now.

He might put on a grand performance, pretending to be upset that Takizawa always ignores him, forcing Takizawa to loudly explain himself. He might even push a newly made friend forward to appease him—he really did that once, when he was fourteen and discovered Takizawa had another “close friend” on the side.

Gojo’s possessiveness is intense, Takizawa would say.

Hesitantly, Takizawa drew closer with a sincere expression. “Gojo, are you jealous?”

How could Gojo ever admit that? To confess would mean conceding he was a total loser in this emotional tug-of-war with Takizawa.

He was about to respond with a self-conscious tease when Takizawa laughed and threw his arm around Gojo’s neck. Their foreheads touched, and Takizawa’s smiling eyes met his. “Jealous of what? Everyone knows I’m closest to you. I’m your second self, the inseparable friend that even the silly oranges can’t drive a wedge between. We’re meant to be together forever!”

At that time, Gojo had just grown tall enough to meet Takizawa’s gaze on equal footing; even their embraces fit perfectly.

The jujutsu world was subtly changing as the Six Eyes matured, and Takizawa’s status rose accordingly—from an unnoticed attendant to the trusted confidant of the Divine Child.

Just as Gojo’s mood was improving, Takizawa said seriously, “But even though I signed a servitude contract, you can’t restrict my normal friendships.”

Then, in a low, teasing tone, he added, “Getting arrogant because of favoritism.”

“I-I’m getting arrogant because of favoritism…?” Gojo was so shocked he stammered, struck like a bolt from the blue.

Gripping his wrist, Gojo challenged Takizawa to a fight. “Let’s go! To the training grounds!”

“Don’t keep people up this late. Wait a minute, I need to say goodbye to Shido.”

Gojo forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, grinding his teeth. “Takizawa, you’re something else.”

“Takizawa, you’re something else.”

Even the twenty-seven-year-old Gojo uttered those words.

Takizawa, tangled up with Jinpei Matsuda, looked puzzled until he realized Gojo was jealous. “Hey, Gojo~ good morning. Why didn’t you give me a heads-up? What if I wasn’t here?”

He slipped on a hoodie and, holding Jinpei’s arm, introduced him. “This is Jinpei, my lifesaver. He carried me onto the ambulance at dawn, and I heard I clung to him the whole way, forcing him to listen to my delirious ramblings!”

“…”

Gojo forced a superficial smile and greeted them.

His presence now radiated an imposing aura that had grown over the years. Takizawa moved between them and, noticing Jinpei’s hesitant gaze, said, “This is Gojo. As I told you before, we’ve been childhood friends—deeply bonded.”

Jinpei politely said hello.

He withdrew his hand, glanced between the two, and found an excuse to leave.

Anyone with basic social skills could sense Jinpei was deliberately keeping his distance, and Takizawa noticed it too. But something about Jinpei’s demeanor seemed off, so he walked him to the door.

“Gojo, sit down and wait for me a bit. You can play with Daifuku.”

Gojo lowered his head and met the gaze of the golden retriever at Takizawa’s feet.

Takizawa quickly passed him and followed Jinpei.

“Jinpei… Jinpei?” He called softly, his steps quickening. Jinpei suddenly stopped, and the next moment Takizawa tackled him from behind. “Sorry, sorry, it’s rare for Officer Matsuda to take a day off.”

His voice was teasing, and Jinpei’s turning eyes caught the sparkling amusement there.

But Jinpei pressed his lips together and only then realized his voice was dry. “Actually, I can go back to work now.”

“I’ll take you to the station.”

Jinpei emphasized again, “Remember to go to the hospital for a checkup. If I get another call from Kobayashi, I’ll cuff you and drag you there myself.”

“…Police really have their own way with words.”

They walked in silence to the station—the quietest moment since they met.

Takizawa vaguely sensed it was because of Gojo’s arrival. He had long had a suspicion about Jinpei but never dared confirm it.

The “he” he always joked about, the unanswered question “Who do you see through him?” both pointed to a particular presence.

That question had another meaning: “Who do you associate me with? Do I remind you of someone?”

Takizawa felt Jinpei carried a heavy burden, like a shadow or a curse, making him cold and distant, weighed down with melancholy, as if a vital piece of his life was missing and had stopped.

Takizawa sensed his own presence was slowly filling that void. He made the cold officer laugh and curse, and naturally revealed his sensitive, sorrowful emotions. It was as if, through trust and attraction, they had come together.

“I was wrong. I’ll definitely go for the checkup today,” Takizawa finally surrendered, “and I’ll dress properly too. You don’t know, I’m great at taking care of myself. How else can I work and live without good health?”

Jinpei’s eyebrows softened, and he hummed noncommittally.

Then Takizawa cautiously asked, “Are we friends?”

“...Why ask that?”

He tapped his chest with a childish gesture. “It just feels like your face is saying you’ll leave and never come back.”

Jinpei chuckled, a laugh tinged with frustration but eyes softened. “Yes, we’re friends.”

At the end, he rubbed his nose. “That’s so cheesy.”

Takizawa grinned. “Even if it’s cheesy, you admitted it.”

***

Ten minutes later, Takizawa returned to the apartment and saw Gojo mercilessly teasing Daifuku.

The golden retriever tried to jump on him but couldn’t reach, and after repeated attempts, wore a human-like, doubtful expression.

When it saw Takizawa return, it barked an accusatory complaint. Takizawa gave it a bag of treats, and it immediately relaxed.

“So this is the dog you insisted on sneaking off with?”

“That’s right. I abandoned you for him.”

Gojo pouted and grumbled, “Damn you, Takizawa! I was working overtime, and you’re living it up. Don’t you have any sense of responsibility?”

“Just say I’m a miracle. Reason? In our line of work, there are ghosts and monsters—what reason could there be?” Takizawa spread his arms, showing off his perfect condition. “Four limbs intact, clear-headed, still as charming as ever—everyone loves me.”

“…”

Gojo pondered silently for a moment and said nothing.

Takizawa glanced at him. “Gojo, did you change your clothes just to see me?”

Indeed, Gojo looked every bit the stylish young man—broad-shouldered, long-legged, dark sunglasses—a type who would be approached by countless strangers on the street.

“Don’t get cocky,” Gojo said.

Takizawa laughed and stopped talking. He refilled Daifuku’s water bowl and cleaned the floor he’d dirtied. After a while, he noticed the unexpected quiet behind him.

Turning around, Gojo was still there.

Light filled Takizawa’s room. Gojo lounged on the sofa, lazily clutching Takizawa’s pillow. His head tilted, soft white hair falling against his neck, glowing translucent in the slanting morning sun. His whole presence was calm and gentle.

His eyes closed, fingers slightly curled, completely relaxed.

Takizawa’s heart stirred. He stepped over and lifted Gojo’s sunglasses aside.

Gojo’s lashes fluttered; his eyes blinked hazily. His blue gaze met the sunlight but was immediately shaded by a silhouette. He murmured something softly, too quiet to catch, then was enveloped in a familiar embrace.

Takizawa held him as they lay down on the sofa, grateful he had bought a large one. Though they were a bit cramped, it wasn’t suffocating.

“What are you—?”

“Sleep,” the blue-eyed youth said contentedly, holding him close. “You must be exhausted from rushing these past few days. We’ll deal with everything else after you wake up.”

Daifuku, ever considerate, brought over a blanket in his mouth. Takizawa draped it over them and shifted into a comfortable position. Gojo stirred, closed his eyes tighter, and hugged his waist.

Takizawa’s breath, Takizawa’s heartbeat.

It was as if they were on a typical afternoon after training, both drowsy, lying casually in the shade of the practice field, heads resting together, thoroughly content.

Gojo seemed to be having an especially beautiful dream.

In that dream, Takizawa never died for him.