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Gojo lays there numb in bed playing with one of the only objects he has left of His Suguru, the boy's dark blue lighter. For some reason he left it behind, or forgot it that fate altering day.
Stimming by turning it on and off it's annoying and stiff causing his thumb to get sore. Inspecting the spark wheel, he shuffles his hands around towards his nightstand where his keys are. Managing to extend his freakishly long limbs to grab the keys without looking, after feeling around a bit for them, he shuffles back to the warm spot his body left on the bed.
Frustrated, he examines the lighter closer and wedges the end of a key under the little metal loop preventing more direct access to the spark wheel. After feeling satisfied it would budge he pulls it upwards, needing to apply very little strength, and it comes off completely.
Tossing the keys and little metal piece aside somewhere, it doesn't matter (nothing matters), he takes a few experimental clicks.
Perfect!
It's not as resistant and annoying as it was previously (already better than a certain someone).
He doesn't know how long he's been laying there. How long he continues to lay there. Could be hours, could be days.
Time stopped when Suguru turned his back on him on that busy street.
Continuing to stare up at the lighter, he keeps flicking it on and off. But the flame is so pretty, the first pretty thing since Suguru, dancing so invitingly. Maybe if he stared at it long enough he would fall in love with the flame and not be alone anymore.
Sadly even this flame will die out eventually and leave him in the dark again.
He leaves the light flicked on, letting it hypnotize him, enticing him to leap after Suguru into the burning inferno of hell.
Not knowing how long it's been, Gojo flips the light off to spin it around for a bit as a change.
As he begins to rearrange his fingers, the lighter is suddenly flung to the other side of the room. Embedding itself INTO the wall.
The surprised sound Gojo let out was anything but manly, ripped out of him as his body jumped upwards to a sitting position. His infinity being flicked on at the sudden scorching heat that met his delicate finger tips. RCT working automatically to undo the damage.
Taking a moment to recollect himself and closing his eyes, letting his six eyes roam and check for any danger.
Confirming everything is safe and not feeling like getting up (what’s the point), he focuses on summoning the babiest of sparks of blue to attract the lighter from inside the wall back to his hand.
With his stim toy resecurred he flops back down onto his bed to resume his previous activity, like nothing happened.
Only it did.
Laying on his back again, looking up at the lighter in his right hand above his face. There's nothing. He feels nothing.
But that was something.
The little noises of life he can hear from inside and outside his room become muffled as everything zeroes in on the lighter. It's like he's in a fish bowl, just him and the tiny object in his stupid big hands. There's nothing else but the two of them.
That's what he had with Suguru.
It's like he's possessed. Maybe he is (it doesn't matter anyway). He doesn't really know or remember what or how it happened. Just that it's something that needed to be done.
Flicking the light on and staring at it with dead eyes. Finally something other than nothing.
Time passes.
This time he knows what the flame wants him to do.
He lifts his left arm not looking away from the burning metal, as he brings his right one down towards it. Prepared to keep infinity and RCT at bay.
How he wants this! How he needs this!
Finally something other than nothing.
The first time he's felt excitement since he can remember (he can't remember anything).
Initially the pain is electric and shocking, and then numb. Gojo relaxes at it, not realizing that he hasn't felt relaxed since they were assigned Tengen’s mission.
He feels, dare he say HAPPY, EUPHORIC again.
He's floating in his head, inside his own little world just him, the light, the pain, and the smell of his own burning flesh.
The happiness doesn't last (it never does). A millisecond and it's back to nothing.
Staring at his flesh burning in fascination, like he's an experiment to be dissected and gawked at (he is, that's all he's ever been, all he’ll ever be).
Once it's lost its entertainment he lifts the lighter from his skin to be met with an angry, nasty looking smiley face.
At least one of them can smile, can be happy.
He doesn't heal it with Reverse Cursed Technique.
He won't take away proof of the last time Suguru made him happy, despite the fact all it is is an ugly scar. As long as it's there, he’ll always have a piece of Suguru with him that can't be taken away. Maybe it was a blessing that the lighter was left behind for him to find.
Even if it's just another ugly reminder of his lonely fate.
That reminds him.
Gojo sighs, bored, as he gets up from the bed and tosses the lighter... Somewhere? (It doesn't matter) He grabs his glasses from the nightstand and stretches, muscles stiff from lack of significant movement for who knows how long.
The hint of a smile tugs at his lips.
Maybe he should go see about another potential Blessing for himself.
Maybe today isn't so bad.
Maybe he'll take it one day at a time.