[ immediately, barely a minute later. it’s only a matter of time, but until the humanity in him demands its necessities, he will continue to evade them, stubbornly. ]
( she's momentarily taken aback at how quickly, how easily the offer comes — does she want him to see her this way? stripped of all of that venom and thorned guards? she doesn't know. doesn't know if the need to just... not be alone outweighed the vulnerability of what he'd see of her, if she wasn't. )
[ a pause. he remembers: yuji likes to be told the why, the how, the little details that assure him it isn’t just his friends humouring him, that it isn’t burdensome to be with him.
( it's reassurance enough, one she doesn't commit any energy to fighting, not when her own reserve was minimal at best. so often she was spitfire, argumentative, instigating — in a way, she feels outside of herself, and he's the first thing she'd thought of to finding herself again. )
the window's open. ( it's kind of become their thing, hasn't it? come back home, stray pup. )
[ for yuji, he uses the door like a normal goddamn person, sneaks in at all hours to vanish into the comforting warmth of family until the lad’s gone off on his missions before choso considers reemerging, going on his way like another stray until itadori has returned again.
but nobara, there is only the window, awaiting him. ]
[ this time it’s a proper knock at the window frame, warning and herald in one before choso simply lets himself in. only the hiss of cloth (his usual gi) and the rattle of the frame marks his passage. ]
Is it wise to keep your windows unlocked at night? [ things like him might get in. ]
( the knock doesn't startle her as it did that gloomy evening he'd first come to her window, propping herself up a bit where limbs are tangled into her sheets to watch his (somehow) agile frame ease inside. he's not met with the typical lash of tongue he might otherwise be, but there's still a muted glint of that kugisaki flair tucked somewhere down beneath. )
Probably not. ( will he hear it? her exhaustion? the ache of something lonely?
would he be able to taste it?
a sigh, folding over her duvet on the side of the bed nearest him, as much of an invitation as any. )
[ it's almost palpable, like atmospheric pressure, the ozone thickness before a storm, or the dense ache before the snow starts in earnest. it doesn't slow choso in the slightest; once his shoes have been summarily abandoned on the floor under the window, he's gone, whispering across the room like a shadow to answer her call, settling onto the edge of her bed with head canted forward, attentive. ]
For now, it's okay.
[ as if gojo satoru didn't exist, as if these dorms weren't one of the safest locations on the estate. ]
( the weight of him sinking beside her runs over her, like the first bit of tangible proof that she wasn't alone — that he wasn't some fictive trick of the mind, gi catching with the night's wind. she's not worried about the window, what might lurk beyond it. really, she can't even be so sure she's thinking at all, too busy feeling, everything and nothing and back again, and all at once. )
Will you lay with me? ( she can't stand the way her voice sounds, hushed, as if it might give her away any less. a clearing of her throat. )
[ he doesn't answer with words; instead, choso shuffles in closer, lying back on soft sheets and arranging himself as parallel to the bed edge as the bulk of his clothing would allow. once situated, his hands fold over his stomach, completing his impromptu look for 'open casket funeral'. ]
Just for a little. [ echoed to the quiet dark, quiet affirmation. ]
( all too quickly she finds herself comfortably sinking into the motions with him that she forgets how unfamiliar he was to this world and all of the little things within it, cuddling included. she doesn't always mind laying it out for him — mostly, she just hopes he has the autonomy to tell her if he might not want something, rather than just go along with her whims.
a sigh deflates an already petite frame, propping up onto her forearm and tugging the mussed duvet up further, as if it might trap the warmth that radiates from him. but the way he's near teetering the edge of the mattress only serves to let more of the chill in, cold fingertips finding his forearm. )
You don't have to lay so far away like that. C'mere.
[ the coldness of her touch is what gets him, strangles the argument on his tongue before he can allocate the breath necessary for it. (if there is an emergency, he can get up and fight like this, see)
there is no storm overhead this time to fill the quiet; only the hiss of cloth and nobara's breath over her tongue. ]
Okay.
[ so he rolls over, lets himself shuffle in closer, careful with his limbs and the sleeves of his strange attire as he arranges himself at her side, knees pulled up, arms tucked into the well of his torso so that his hands may lay curled over the sheets in her little tent of bedding. (it's him, he's the one making a tent of it, how it drapes over broad shoulders) ]
( okay, he says, in that hushed, agreeable way of his. if it were any other night her tongue would've surely found something sharp to mumble by now, but it feels as if she's running on reserve. pulse a barely there, whispering thing. the way he makes to curl up beside her is almost childlike, curling his knees and tucking in his arms, nearly doubling his width. )
I'm fine. ( a quick dismissal in the form of a breath, shuffling a little closer towards him if only to find one of his hands within the sheets, tugging it instructively to the dip in her side. )
Straighten your legs. ( for a moment, her mind drifts to when she'd first let him in through her window, commands like a lilt, forcing him to get out of all of those creepy clothes. she's gotten used to them, now, but it doesn't make them any more convenient. she waits, holding up the duvet, goosebumpbs freckling across her legs. ) So I can put the blanket around you.
[ he uncurls so easily, choso does, unfurls his legs to stretch out, but as he does his head meets the sheets, hair buns smushed as his torso turns halfway onto his back. with his hand fitted against her side, the motion has him pulling her in, tugging her smaller form more into his sphere so he need not have to fuss with rearranging himself again. ]
[ 2 am, a storm brewing on the horizon, winds blowing in from the northeast with a growing intensity. megumi's sleeping in the dorms again, sleeping in his old room all alone in their old wing. the whole place has been memorialised in the aftermath of shinjuku, much like the rest of the campus.
new buildings being built, the clans putting their monies where their reputations rest, and yuta's taking over for the gojo, same as megumi for what remains of the zen'in. the kamo, too, are begging at itadori's feet, claiming the thinnest of blood threads despite the shame of kenjaku.
the more the world changes, the more it stays the same.
[ the campus stands as one of the few places left to find solace, short of leaving the city entirely. but leaving means it would be harder to see the people choso wants to see, and he cannot go and leave yuji all alone while the world stumbles to find its balance again. ]
i am.
[ even at 2am, he cannot bring himself to sleep when the air smells as heavy as it does. ]
company, i think. the air's charged tonight and it's making my ears ring.
[ he'll be out of his room regardless, haunting the hallways like the ghost he should've become if not for the grace and glory of itadori yuji's forgiveness. too many dead by his hands; too much destruction than the world is willing to look past, even with the considerable cache of zen'in blood money given back for reparations. ]
[ someone must watch over the bastion that is Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, if not for its faculty then for its students. for yuji and for megumi and even for their sharp little friend kugisaki, choso patrols the campus grounds like a wraith. without tengen’s protections, the school needs as many spare hands as it can get; guarding it is the least choso can do to help out while still keeping a healthy distance out of public eye.
but for megumi, he can let himself be found easily enough. ]
of course. i await you.
[ 2am finds choso around the administrative buildings, now dark and silent under the pitch sky. his silhouette is just one more shadow amongst the rest, sat at an engawa overlooking a somewhat overgrown rock garden. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
— 1:04 am
( didn't have to sleep, is what he'd told her. but it's only a matter of time before the human bits of him begin to weigh out. )
no subject
[ immediately, barely a minute later. it’s only a matter of time, but until the humanity in him demands its necessities, he will continue to evade them, stubbornly. ]
i can come over.
no subject
you sure?
no subject
[ a pause. he remembers: yuji likes to be told the why, the how, the little details that assure him it isn’t just his friends humouring him, that it isn’t burdensome to be with him.
perhaps she needs the same, too. ]
i want to
no subject
( it's reassurance enough, one she doesn't commit any energy to fighting, not when her own reserve was minimal at best. so often she was spitfire, argumentative, instigating — in a way, she feels outside of herself, and he's the first thing she'd thought of to finding herself again. )
the window's open. ( it's kind of become their thing, hasn't it? come back home, stray pup. )
1/2
but nobara, there is only the window, awaiting him. ]
ok
no subject
Is it wise to keep your windows unlocked at night? [ things like him might get in. ]
no subject
Probably not. ( will he hear it? her exhaustion? the ache of something lonely?
would he be able to taste it?
a sigh, folding over her duvet on the side of the bed nearest him, as much of an invitation as any. )
no subject
For now, it's okay.
[ as if gojo satoru didn't exist, as if these dorms weren't one of the safest locations on the estate. ]
no subject
Will you lay with me? ( she can't stand the way her voice sounds, hushed, as if it might give her away any less. a clearing of her throat. )
Just for a little.
no subject
Just for a little. [ echoed to the quiet dark, quiet affirmation. ]
no subject
a sigh deflates an already petite frame, propping up onto her forearm and tugging the mussed duvet up further, as if it might trap the warmth that radiates from him. but the way he's near teetering the edge of the mattress only serves to let more of the chill in, cold fingertips finding his forearm. )
You don't have to lay so far away like that. C'mere.
no subject
there is no storm overhead this time to fill the quiet; only the hiss of cloth and nobara's breath over her tongue. ]
Okay.
[ so he rolls over, lets himself shuffle in closer, careful with his limbs and the sleeves of his strange attire as he arranges himself at her side, knees pulled up, arms tucked into the well of his torso so that his hands may lay curled over the sheets in her little tent of bedding. (it's him, he's the one making a tent of it, how it drapes over broad shoulders) ]
You're cold. Are you okay?
no subject
I'm fine. ( a quick dismissal in the form of a breath, shuffling a little closer towards him if only to find one of his hands within the sheets, tugging it instructively to the dip in her side. )
Straighten your legs. ( for a moment, her mind drifts to when she'd first let him in through her window, commands like a lilt, forcing him to get out of all of those creepy clothes. she's gotten used to them, now, but it doesn't make them any more convenient. she waits, holding up the duvet, goosebumpbs freckling across her legs. ) So I can put the blanket around you.
no subject
Closer then. It's too small for both.
post-canon au;
new buildings being built, the clans putting their monies where their reputations rest, and yuta's taking over for the gojo, same as megumi for what remains of the zen'in. the kamo, too, are begging at itadori's feet, claiming the thinnest of blood threads despite the shame of kenjaku.
the more the world changes, the more it stays the same.
he can't sleep like this. ]
choso-san. are you awake?
no subject
i am.
[ even at 2am, he cannot bring himself to sleep when the air smells as heavy as it does. ]
do you require anything?
no subject
[ he'll be out of his room regardless, haunting the hallways like the ghost he should've become if not for the grace and glory of itadori yuji's forgiveness. too many dead by his hands; too much destruction than the world is willing to look past, even with the considerable cache of zen'in blood money given back for reparations. ]
can i come find you?
no subject
but for megumi, he can let himself be found easily enough. ]
of course.
i await you.
[ 2am finds choso around the administrative buildings, now dark and silent under the pitch sky. his silhouette is just one more shadow amongst the rest, sat at an engawa overlooking a somewhat overgrown rock garden. ]