You Sit At The Edge Of The Training Mat, The Soft Hum Of The Fluorescent Lights Above Doing Little To

You sit at the edge of the training mat, the soft hum of the fluorescent lights above doing little to chase away the shadows of frustration and exhaustion that cling to you. Gojo Satoru stands in the center of the room, effortlessly stretching after yet another sparring session that ended in your defeat. The room feels like it’s closing in, suffocating you with its silence and your own self-doubt.

“Not bad this time,” Gojo’s voice breaks through the silence, light and teasing, as he gives you a reassuring smile. “You’re getting there.”

But his words ring hollow. You look down at your hands, still trembling from the exertion, and feel the weight of his greatness pressing down on you. “Am I really?” you ask, your voice laced with bitterness.

Gojo steps closer, his playful expression fading as he notices the frustration in your eyes. He crouches down to your level, concern evident in his gaze. "What’s going on? You’ve been off for a while. You can talk to me, you know."

You take a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. "It’s just… I feel like I’m always falling short. No matter how hard I train or how much I push myself, I never feel like I’m getting any closer to being like you."

Gojo’s brow furrows. “You don’t have to be like me. That’s not what I want.”

You shake your head, the frustration bubbling over. “But I do. Because I feel like I’m not worthy of being by your side if I’m not. You’re Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer. And here I am, struggling just to keep up. What am I compared to that?”

Gojo watches you quietly, the usual playful spark in his eyes dimming. “You’re not supposed to be me,” he says softly. “You’re supposed to be you.”

“But being me doesn’t feel like enough,” you reply, your voice trembling. “I’m always losing. Not just against you, but against my own self-doubt. I keep trying, but nothing changes. I don’t feel like I’m ever really winning.”

Gojo is silent for a moment, his gaze searching yours. He then gently places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "I know you feel like you’re not enough right now," he whispers. “But you are. You always have been.”

His touch is warm and grounding, and for a moment, you let yourself believe that maybe things will be okay. But deep down, the feeling of inadequacy lingers, a weight that you know won’t lift easily. You wish you could fully embrace his reassurance, but the shadow of doubt remains.

Gojo’s hand moves from your shoulder to gently brush away the tears that have started to fall. His eyes hold a soft, understanding look, his smile tinged with sadness. "Take your time," he says quietly. “I’ll be here, waiting.”

His words are a bittersweet comfort. You know he means it, that he’ll stay by your side even if you never feel worthy. Even if you continue to feel overshadowed by his brilliance.

You nod, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. "Okay."

Gojo offers you his hand, a familiar gesture that’s always been a symbol of his support. You take it, standing up beside him once more.

In the end, you understand that this feeling might never fully go away. But with Gojo’s hand in yours, maybe you’ll find a way to stand beside him, even if you never feel like a winner.

The sky was painted in shades of twilight as the Crux finally docked, its journey over for the time being. Kaedehara Kazuha, a wandering samurai, leapt gracefully onto the dock, his platinum blond hair fluttering with the breeze. A soft sigh of relief escaped his lips as he set foot back on familiar ground. He had been away for weeks, traveling with Beidou’s crew across the seas. But now, his heart was eager for one thing: home.

He walked down the familiar paths of Inazuma, the sunset casting a warm glow over everything. Each step brought him closer to the place that truly mattered—the person he cherished more than any voyage or adventure. His thoughts wandered to you, imagining your soft smile, the warmth of your embrace.

Finally, the sight of your shared home came into view. Kazuha paused for a moment, taking in the peaceful scenery, the garden you both tended together, the small house that was filled with memories. He quietly slid open the door, not wanting to startle you.

"Kazuha?" Your voice was soft, filled with surprise and joy. You appeared from the kitchen, your eyes widening at the sight of him.

He smiled, his eyes gentle and full of love. “I’m home.”

Without another word, you rushed into his arms, burying your face in his chest. Kazuha held you close, his arms tightening around you as if he never wanted to let go. The scent of the sea still clung to him, but beneath it was something deeply familiar, something that always reminded you of warmth and safety.

"I missed you," you whispered, your voice muffled against his clothes.

"I missed you too," he murmured, resting his chin atop your head. His hand gently stroked your back in soothing motions. "Every day I thought of you. The sea is vast, but no matter how far I traveled, my heart always led me back here, to you."

You smiled against his chest, feeling a soft flutter in your heart. Pulling back slightly, you gazed up at him, eyes shining with love and relief. “I made your favorite tea. Would you like some?”

Kazuha nodded with a soft chuckle. “That sounds perfect.”

The two of you settled down by the low table, the steam from the tea curling between you like a delicate dance. You talked quietly, your voices filling the quiet room, a gentle contrast to the silence of the time spent apart. Kazuha recounted his latest journey—the stars he saw, the wind’s songs he listened to, and the peaceful moments he had spent thinking of you.

As the night deepened, the two of you moved out to the porch, sitting together in the garden under the moonlight. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying the scent of night-blooming flowers. Kazuha sat behind you, pulling you into his lap, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

“The wind is gentle tonight,” he said softly, resting his head on your shoulder.

You leaned back into his warmth, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your back. “It feels like it’s welcoming you home.”

Kazuha smiled at your words, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your neck. “I think you’re the one who makes it feel like home,” he whispered, his voice full of affection.

You blushed, turning your head slightly to meet his gaze. His eyes were soft, filled with a quiet intensity that always made your heart skip a beat.

“Kazuha…” You reached up, cupping his cheek gently.

“I’m here now,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “And I won’t be leaving for a while. Let’s just stay like this, for as long as we can.”

You nodded, resting your head against his chest as the two of you watched the stars twinkle above. The world seemed to quiet around you, leaving only the soft sounds of the night and the steady rhythm of Kazuha’s breathing.

In that moment, everything felt right. No words were needed—just the warmth of his arms around you, the quiet peace of being together again. It was solace, pure and simple, and in Kazuha’s embrace, you knew that no matter how far he wandered, he would always find his way back to you.

And for now, that was enough.

Your days were a blur of exhaustion. Between managing the new house and taking care of your son, the weight of it all pressed down on you. Suguru—your Suguru—wasn’t much help these days. He had been swallowed by work, disappearing into his office for hours on end. When he wasn’t working, he was on his phone, his face hidden behind that tired, distant expression.

"Not tonight," he mumbled when you knocked gently on his office door, your son crying softly in your arms. "I'm really busy, just... I'll come help later."

But he never did.

You sighed, rocking your son gently in the dim light of the living room, the weight of Suguru's absence hanging heavy in the air. You knew he loved you, but the distance between you was growing. It wasn’t intentional—he was busy. But still, you couldn’t shake the loneliness that had begun to settle in.

The mansion’s walls seemed to stretch on forever, wrapping you in an unnerving silence. It had been days since you and Suguru moved in, yet the house felt anything but homey. No matter how much you tried to settle in, the air always felt too heavy, too still, as if it were holding its breath.

Suguru didn’t seem to mind. He moved through the house with his usual composed grace, handling the boxes, making plans, his face betraying none of the unease gnawing at you. He was always distant, often consumed by his thoughts, and this house… it seemed to suit that part of him. But you—something about the mansion put you on edge.

The days blurred into nights, the strange feeling growing stronger, especially when the sun dipped below the horizon and shadows crept through the halls.

That night, after tossing and turning, you gave up on trying to sleep. Your throat was dry, the house too quiet. You slipped out of bed carefully, not wanting to disturb Suguru, whose even breaths filled the room.

As you wandered through the dimly lit hallway towards the kitchen, the air felt different—warmer, almost humid. You grabbed a glass and let the faucet run, the sound of water filling the silence. That’s when something caught your eye.

Across the room, behind an old cabinet you didn’t remember moving, was a door. Small and unassuming, with faint light spilling from the edges, as if the very frame of it was glowing.

Frowning, you set your glass down and stepped closer. You didn’t recall seeing a door there before, but then again, this house had a way of feeling different each time you walked through it. Still, this felt strange. Kneeling, you gently tugged at the handle, and the door creaked open, revealing a tunnel inside.

It wasn’t dark. Instead, the passage glowed with an otherworldly light—soft, shimmering, almost beckoning you. The walls were rounded and smooth, almost like they were alive, their surface glistening faintly under the glow. The tunnel seemed to stretch into the distance, bending around corners you couldn’t see past.

A part of you wanted to turn back, to close the door and forget you ever saw it. But another part of you—curious, drawn in by the strange glow—urged you forward. Crawling into the tunnel, you found the air inside warm, like the embrace of a blanket on a cold night.

You hesitated at first, glancing back over your shoulder. But the tunnel’s light seemed to pulse softly, inviting you to move forward. You couldn’t resist.

When you finally reached the other side, the sight that greeted you made you stop in your tracks.

You were in the kitchen… or at least, what looked like the kitchen. But it wasn’t the same. Everything was more vibrant, more alive. The countertops gleamed as if freshly cleaned, the walls a richer shade of color, the air filled with the soft warmth of a hearth. It was familiar, but... not.

“There you are, dear…”

The voice was familiar, too. You turned, your heart skipping a beat.

There, standing in the kitchen, was Suguru. He looked at you with that same calm expression you had grown so used to, but something about him felt different. Softer. More welcoming. The cold distance that usually lingered between you seemed to have melted away.

“I…” you murmured, your throat suddenly dry for an entirely different reason.

Suguru smiled, his face illuminated by the warm glow of the room. But there was something strange about the way the light hit his face— your gaze drifted to his eyes. And you froze.

Buttons.

His eyes were shiny, black buttons, polished to a glossy finish. They reflected the light in a way that made them gleam unnaturally, but they lacked the depth, the humanity, that you were so used to seeing in Suguru’s eyes.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you forced yourself to stay calm. He was still Suguru, wasn’t he? He looked like him, his voice was the same, but… those eyes.

Suguru stood in the center of the room, but something was profoundly different about him. His smile held a peculiar calmness that set you on edge.

You approached him cautiously. “Who are you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

He extended a hand, the buttons on his eyes reflecting the soft light. “I’m your husband of course…” he said, his voice smooth.

You took a step back, instinctively creating distance between you and him. "What... who—what do you mean husband? You aren’t suguru! My suguru doesn’t have… b-b-b-" you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady despite the uneasy tightness in your chest.

His chuckle was soft, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “B-Buttons? Do you like them?” he continued your sentence smoothly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “I’m your other husband, silly” His tone was playful, but there was an eerie undertone that left your nerves prickling.

You stepped back again, feeling the surreal tension thick in the air. His button eyes stayed fixed on you, calm and unbothered, but there was something deeply unsettling about how unphased he was by your discomfort.

“Oh! right.. Come on, you came at the perfect time, i have a suprise for you.” he added, his voice tender, ignoring how wary you are of him.

Your heart raced as you struggled to process what you were seeing, standing in this version of your world that was somehow more vibrant but disturbingly off. Suguru— this Suguru—stood before you with the same gentle smile, but everything else about him screamed that this wasn't real. It was a performance, too perfect to be natural.

You hesitated, but curiosity and the allure of his warm demeanor drew you closer. He gently took your hand and led you out of the room. The warmth of Suguru’s hand led you outside, though something inside you still screamed to turn back. As you stepped into the garden, your breath caught in your throat once again. The landscape was breathtaking—too perfect. Flowers bloomed in radiant colors, their petals shimmering faintly in the twilight. The air was thick with the sound of gentle rustling leaves, and the sparkling water of a small pond reflected the faint glow of luminescent butterflies.

Everything here was like a dream—so beautiful it didn’t feel real.

Suguru stood beside you, his button eyes reflecting the twinkling light as he watched you silently. His presence was unnervingly calm, his hand never leaving yours as though he were tethering you to this place.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s... unreal,” you murmured, eyes lingering on the glowing butterflies, their wings catching the soft light like iridescent glass.

“It’s not unreal, love. It’s exactly as it should be,” Suguru replied smoothly, his voice quiet yet carrying a weight that made you want to listen. His eyes were only on you, even as you stared at the beauty around you, trying to make sense of the perfection before you.

Your gaze fell to the fish swimming in the pond, their silvery bodies gleaming as they moved in perfect harmony. But when you leaned in closer, your heart skipped a beat—each of them had small, glossy button eyes. The butterflies, too. The animals, the plants—everything in this world was perfect, but not without that eerie detail.

You shuddered. “The buttons… Everything here has buttons,” you whispered, voice trembling slightly. The unsettling feeling returned, making the beauty around you feel more like a trap.

Suguru’s grip tightened ever so slightly, grounding you. “Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, his voice low, like a soft lullaby. “The buttons are just a part of this world. But you—you belong here. With me.”

You glanced up at him, feeling his gaze heavy on your skin. “Belong?” you echoed, confused and wary. The perfection of the place was starting to wear on you, making you feel out of place—as though you were the only thing that didn’t fit in this strange world.

Suguru stepped closer, his breath soft against your ear. “Yes. Here, where there are no distractions. No worries. Only us. Wouldn’t that be better? To be in a place where nothing can hurt you, where you’re never alone?”

His words dripped like honey, each syllable wrapping itself around your thoughts. It was hard to ignore the way his voice seemed to promise you everything you had ever wanted—peace, ease, belonging.

You hesitated, torn between the growing fear inside you and the pull of his soothing words. “But… what about everything else? My life, my... home?”

“Why worry about that?” he asked, brushing a hand against your arm. His lips hovered just above your skin, barely grazing the sensitive flesh of your shoulder. A shiver ran through you, your body reacting to his touch even as your mind screamed for caution. “Everything here is for you. Look around.”

His lips trailed down your arm, slow and deliberate, barely touching but enough to make your pulse quicken. “The garden, the peace... isn’t this what you’ve wanted?”

The butterflies fluttered around your head, their glowing wings casting soft light over you. You found yourself staring at the pond again, the water so clear, so impossibly pure. It was inviting, almost calling you toward it, as though it held a secret, sparkling promise beneath its surface.

“It’s beautiful,” you admitted softly, feeling the words slip from your mouth before you could stop them. The beauty of the place was undeniable, but it was so foreign, so otherworldly that it made you uneasy. And yet...

Suguru’s hand slid down your waist, his lips brushing the back of your hand in a featherlight kiss. “You deserve beauty, love,” he whispered against your skin, his voice soft and persuasive. “And there’s so much more for you here. Come back tomorrow, and you’ll see.”

You hesitated, your heart fluttering in your chest. “Tomorrow?” you asked, your voice uncertain.

Suguru’s button eyes stayed fixed on you, unwavering, as if he could see the conflict brewing inside you. “Of course,” he murmured. “I’ll be here waiting for you. Everything will be waiting. You’ll see how much better it is when you’re not fighting against it.”

His words felt like a lure, pulling you in. A part of you knew it was wrong—knew that this world, this Suguru, was not what it seemed. And yet, his presence was so calm, so inviting, it was hard to fight the drowsy pull of his voice.

You glanced around the garden again. The sparkling water, the glowing butterflies, the strange yet beautiful perfection of it all—it was enough to make you forget, just for a moment, the cold reality you had left behind.

“I… don’t know,” you muttered, feeling a wave of exhaustion suddenly settle over you. Your eyelids felt heavy, and your body started to sway slightly, the warmth of the garden lulling you into a strange, almost dreamlike state.

Suguru’s hand slid up to rest gently on the small of your back, steadying you as your body seemed to sink into the moment. “There’s no rush,” he said softly. “You’ll see, love. You’ll come back. And when you do, everything will be just as perfect as you’ve always wanted.”

His lips grazed the side of your face, the gesture as much a promise as it was a kiss. You felt yourself leaning into his touch, your body betraying your mind’s desperate urge to pull away.

Before you could protest, he was guiding you back toward the house, his arm around your waist, his touch light but firm. The house seemed warmer, more welcoming as you stepped inside, and as he led you to the bedroom, the exhaustion from earlier became overwhelming.

The room looked different—so much softer, filled with warmth and color. The bed practically glowed with inviting softness. Suguru stood by the door, watching you with those unnerving button eyes as you climbed into bed, your body too tired to resist.

“Good night,” he whispered, his voice lingering in the air as your eyes closed, the exhaustion pulling you under like a heavy blanket.

____

You awoke with a jolt, gasping as you found yourself lying in the cold, bare room. The morning light streamed through the window, casting a harsh contrast. Your heart was still racing, your skin still tingling with the memory of Suguru’s- other Suguru’s touch.

But it had all been a dream... hadn’t it?

——

You looked over at the small door in the corner of the room, where the bricks stood in place, as solid as ever. Yet, despite the barriers, the memory of the garden and Suguru’s soft voice tugged at you.

For a moment, you just sat there, staring at the door, a strange ache of loneliness settling into your chest. The loneliness you had felt before seemed even more pronounced. The memory of the surreal, perfect world lingered in your mind, leaving you with a mix of longing.

“Bye, i gotta go..” suguru said, leaving the house without even a kiss for his beloved nor his child.

With a heavy sigh, you turned your gaze away from the door he just slammed, the image of the other Suguru etched deeply in your thoughts.