Chapter 43

This is a ruthless and protracted bitter winter.

Takizawa Sei, whose injuries showed no signs of healing, had been continuously depressed for many days. He had not given up, but he knew that for the time being, there was nothing he could do. A certain faith was being worn down, bringing with it deep pressure and self-loathing. He ran a high fever for days on end, accompanied by endless nightmares.

Sometimes he dreamed of Gojo Satoru coming to sweep his grave, holding that oversized umbrella they had once bought together. Japanese people generally considered the space beneath an umbrella to be intensely private, where only family members and lovers would crowd together. Takizawa Sei had not known this at first; no one had ever told him, and he hadn't paid attention to how the maid's umbrella tilted infinitely toward Gojo Satoru when she sheltered him. Back then, both he and Satoru were small in stature, and he felt the space of one umbrella was quite enough for two people, so he had naturally walked side by side with him.

Thinking back on it now, Gojo Satoru might have accepted him much earlier than he had imagined.

Sometimes Takizawa Sei dreamed that he had not been ambushed by the curse user, that he had not been targeted by the system. On that day, he had been routinely sent back to Jujutsu High by Suguru, and the students had returned safely from their missions, greeting him with their usual lively horseplay. They would sit on the sofa in the lounge area, eating takeout and betting on when exactly Gojo Satoru would finish his assignment and return, the conversation naturally shifting into a comprehensive critique of Satoru's personality and appearance.

"Isn't it a bit wrong of us to talk about him behind his back like this?" Takizawa Sei asked, feeling a slight pang of conscience.

"What's the harm? We aren't verbally abusing him." Zenin Maki's remarks about Satoru were always the sharpest. It was common knowledge that Gojo Satoru was unreliable as a teacher—such as forgetting to introduce the newly arrived Yuta Okkotsu, abandoning his students at mission sites without a trace, and instead of offering words of comfort when he saw his students in miserable states, frantically taking pictures to commemorate the occasion. Yet, despite being so erratic and childish, his core remained gentle and strong. Because of this, Zenin Maki, who delivered a series of scathing remarks about him, actually didn't dislike him at all; on the contrary, she trusted him immensely.

They trusted Gojo Satoru implicitly, knowing full well that even if they made the kind of disrespectful remarks about a senior that ordinary society frowned upon, they wouldn't face retaliation, ostracization, strange looks, or subtle sabotage, because Satoru's personality was actually very good. The relationship between their teacher and students was wonderfully effortless.

Takizawa Sei watched with his own eyes as their denunciation of the wayward teacher transformed into the adulation of the strongest adult, ending with their wager: "The moment Gojo-sensei comes back, he'll definitely look for Takizawa-sensei first."

Everyone took it for granted that Gojo Satoru would return safely, that he would make a triumphant and high-spirited return.

Then the victorious strongest jujutsu sorcerer would seek out his soulmate to proudly show off and act spoiled, tasting the sweetness that always overflowed from the tip of his tongue whenever victory—so habitual in his life's resume—was verified by the presence of Takizawa Sei.

"Not necessarily, though." In the dream, Takizawa Sei, publicly teased about their close relationship, spoke with such modesty, while knowing full well that this was bound to happen anyway.

Pity that this pleasant dream shattered before Gojo Satoru could return.

Upon waking, Takizawa Sei rolled over, burying half his face in the soft pillow, and closed his eyes tightly in escapism, forcing himself to fall back asleep. He wanted to reconnect with the sweet dream, but the weaver of dreams seldom let one have their way.

It was yet another aftermath he had not been part of after his departure, yet another lonely silhouette of Gojo Satoru.

Sometimes Takizawa Sei dreamed of the white-haired young man sitting alone in a chair, falling asleep unconsciously, the lamplight tracing out an increasingly desolate contour on his profile. Takizawa Sei would circle around him several times without his presence being sensed, and finally could only squat down in front of Gojo Satoru, utterly exhausted, staring at him with dark green eyes stained by emotion.

"Sei-kun, if you always stay indoors, you'll rust, you know."

Rintaro's voice pulled Takizawa Sei back from his memories.

At this moment, he was curled up beside the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket yet still pale, as if he might start shivering violently at any second.

"I hate winter," Takizawa Sei said. "It's too cold."

Forest Rintaro spoke in that innocent tone that seemed to harbor deep meaning, "And yet, you used to love winter so much."

Takizawa Sei said with a pale face, "Instead of talking about that, do you have any other clothes? I'm freezing to death. Why is it still so cold even right next to the fireplace? And... Mori, I really can't compliment your taste. It's the dead of winter, yet there isn't a single heavy cotton coat to be found. Even if you're no longer the boss of the Port Mafia, you shouldn't be reduced to the point where you can't even afford to buy clothes."

He instinctively tightened his blanket around himself and continued, "I still remember that ridiculously expensive haute couture coat you used to wear. Ha, truly dashing and utterly useless."

Mori Ougai was somewhat surprised by his talkativeness today. Takizawa Sei had spent the past few days displaying a complete refusal to communicate, yet today he had actually complained in such a long, uninterrupted sentence.

His reddish-purple eyes deepened, as he realized that the other's mental state was gradually stabilizing.

"Cold? But it's not cold at all in here; I even need to take off my coat." The dark-haired young man sat next to Takizawa Sei in a comfortable European-style armchair, but Takizawa Sei deliberately refused to sit in it, preferring to curl up cross-legged on the blanket.

Takizawa Sei shivered. "But I'm freezing to death."

Alice, in her adult form, passed by the hallway and turned her head at the sound. She paused for only two seconds before leaving in silence, though Takizawa Sei figured she was probably going to fetch more charcoal.

"The year-end is approaching, and the fishing boats heading out to sea have all stopped." Forest Rintaro placed a few books by Takizawa Sei's legs. "The things you're looking for will certainly take some time. Don't be too anxious or worried—look, dark circles have formed under your eyes, they're practically dropping to your chin."

His tone was laced with gentleness.

Reluctantly, Takizawa Sei stretched a single finger out from the blanket and randomly pulled one book from the stack.

Forest Rintaro was probably afraid that he would find it boring here, or that his unpredictable, intense emotions might drive him to do something foolish, which was why he had gone looking for things to pass the time.

Takizawa Sei had long lost interest in toys, and the children were somewhat resistant to him as a stranger. Only Yota came over again and time to talk to him, but Takizawa Sei could not muster a shred of energy for conversation, always wearing such a wilted expression that it made Yota rather sad.

That was why Forest Rintaro had brought him books.

There were vulgar pulp novels, seemingly self-pitying literary works, and pedantic poetry.

Yet these seemed quite effective in temporarily soothing Takizawa Sei's emotions and distracting his attention.

Generally, whenever there wasn't much going on at the residence, Forest Rintaro would come over to keep Takizawa Sei company.

Sometimes he would stay for an entire afternoon.

The young man with emerald eyes was curled up by the fireplace, passing the time beneath the dim, yellowish glow of an electric lamp styled after an oil lamp, looking sickly with a fever-reducing patch stuck to his forehead, holding a hot water bottle pressed constantly against his chest.

"To be honest, the way you're afraid of the cold right now bears an uncanny resemblance to that former executive of mine," Forest Rintaro initiated a conversation with Takizawa Sei. "What on earth caused you to become like this?"

Thinking the other was asking about why he was injured, Takizawa Sei replied dully, "I just wasn't careful."

"Yet you look truly formidable right now."

Takizawa Sei showed no interest in this topic.

"You don't seem particularly surprised by your own resurrection from the dead. Anywhere else, that would be a society-shaking miracle." Forest Rintaro persisted. "I was utterly shocked when I found you, with countless sinister plots and schemes flashing through my mind. And upon your return, you've also acted as though things haven't turned out the way you wanted. It seems becoming like this was entirely against your will."

Takizawa Sei lowered his gaze to the book.

Forest Rintaro said softly, "—Am I disturbing you?"

"Could you refrain from conversing with me for a moment, Mori-san?" Takizawa Sei said with a weary heart. "I am currently finding solace within the spiritual world of the author."

The young man with reddish-purple eyes chuckled softly. "Have you adapted completely? Ah, well, after all, you are that kind of person."

The tone of the other's voice made Takizawa Sei slightly uncomfortable. Long ago, he had discovered that the brains of clever people were wired differently from his own; he was constantly being easily manipulated in the palms of these people's hands with no recourse. Even someone as immensely powerful in his abilities as Chuuya could only swallow his grievances. Unless he drank several bottles of "+N Intelligence Magic Potion" all at once, he would never be able to play these riddle-filled games with them.

"What book are you reading?"

"Just poetry."

"Is it interesting?"

Takizawa Sei glanced at him indifferently and sighed; it seemed this person was not going to give up on exchanging a few words with him.

In a soft, low voice, he began to chant gently,

"Life is as swift as lightning, its brilliance vanishing in a flash."

Forest Rintaro raised an eyebrow.

"The heaven and earth remain unchanged, yet our faces are altered by the passage of time.
Ah, you there, pouring wine yet refusing to drink.
Ah, tell me, who is it that you are waiting for?"

"..."

Who are you waiting for?

Forest Rintaro's gaze shifted slightly. He quietly gazed at Takizawa Sei, then finally looked away, closing his eyes unassumingly.

Who are you waiting for?

A long time ago.

Actually, not all that long.

Forest Rintaro had indeed witnessed Takizawa Sei looking this fragile before. Like someone who had lost something precious, lost yet resilient, enduring blows unknown to others—much like a migrating bird searching for a foothold in the floating world, displaced and pitiful, yet possessing a soul that shone as brightly as ever.

Osamu Dazai had probably been the first to be captivated by this very trait he exuded.

Clearly so desperate, yet brimming with hope.

"The children are playing outside."

"I can hear their laughter."

"Would you like to go play with them?"

Takizawa Sei said listlessly, "Do you want me to go out and freeze to death?"

朗 "It snowed heavily last night, and the ground is covered in a thick layer."

Takizawa Sei kept his mouth shut.

"...Very well, then it's time for us to change your dressing."

Forest Rintaro took the tray prepared by Alice. The medicines and bandages were laid out neatly, all of them looking like high-end items; Takizawa Sei remembered that when he reunited with Rintaro a few days ago, the man had gone out specifically to purchase expensive medications.

The bandage on his forehead was unwrapped, revealing the unhealed bloody hole still lingering there.

Forest Rintaro applied the medicine in silence, scattering the bleeding-stop powder as if it were worthless, then pressed gauze over the wound and wrapped it round and round with bandages.

Takizawa Sei obediently held his posture still, leaving the actions to him. "Is my injury getting any better?"

"It has improved tremendously."

"That's a truly novel way to lie. I'm the injured party here, with a crater right on my head; how could I possibly not feel it hurting?"

"At the very least, humor me with a lie. Failing to heal an injury right in front of one's hands is the greatest blow to a healer." Forest Rintaro acted as though the bizarre situation before him were completely indifferent to him, and set about removing the gauze from Takizawa Sei's neck.