ETERNAL SUMMER
⸻ 百の幽霊あなたの目で

( 2005 - 2011 )

     Summer blooms for him in shades of red. It is the colour of her eyes, the flush in her cheeks and the tint of her lips. The setting sun caught in her hair, the glow of a cigarette and the chipped paint of her nails. She smiles like effervescence and her laughter has the taste of Calpis sours at two in the morning with their feet dipped in the school's swimming pool. The moments are captured in polaroid and buried in his chest. Moments that he dares not touch or look at because he knows she is not his and will never be.

Exorcise. Absorb. Repeat.

Envy is a shade of blue that he loathes to admit. It is the colour of her favourite soft drink, the sapphire ring she wears and the eyes of the boy she adores. ( It's not him ) Her gaze is always set above her while he stands firmly by her side. The azure blue sky swallows him in its vastness but she soars upon high heavens in bliss. He drowns beneath the warm ocean currents where her heart belongs and all he can grasp is silt. Summer dissolves in his mouth and it tastes like saltwater in mid-July, peeling oranges in the middle of the night and a pricked finger trickling blood.

It tastes worse than the cursed spirits he absorbs.

Her absence is louder than the silence. It buzzes in his ears like cicadas outside the window, like the pattering of rain in April and the clapping of sun-wrinkled palms. The sun beats on the back of his neck and the cicadas keep dying outside. He wants to do something but instead, he sits and stares at the wall as his thoughts consume him. It keeps him up at night and he can't sleep, he can't even eat with the taste of summer still fresh on his tongue. Would things have been different if she had stayed?

A lot can happen in one year; lovers turn to strangers, friends turn to acquaintances and people turn to ghosts. Promises made in the moment are forgotten and cherished faces fade away from memory. He doesn't remember her being so small, he doesn't remember her eyes being so sad. As if she had planted an orchard filled with fruits bearing regret and anguish, then gorged on their bitter pulp and juice. ( Was he not the same? ) His name sounds different from her lips.

He doesn't know what he expects from seeing her again. But for a brief moment, he sees summer bloom once more in maple sunsets and the vesper of June. It brings a comfort that is almost half-forgotten, tucked away in a box with vinyl records collecting dust in a backroom of his heart. He wants to sigh to himself as he finally answers the one question that plagues his mind. He should have known better. He should have stopped her from leaving instead of hiding behind the kitchen back door eavesdropping.

But he's not Satoru, so what more could he have done where the Strongest had failed to do?

He wants to say something but he doesn't know where to start. The space between them seems immeasurable and his hands have already been soiled. The long summer of their hearts entrap them in an eternal melancholy. He keeps telling himself that there is meaning to it all and there is, but at the same time, there isn't. Some things will never change and he's already abandoned so much in the last few days. Even if he had left his heart there in the middle of the forests of Mount Hiei, it wouldn't have made a difference. Her eyes are fixed on the ground now and they swim only with ghosts.

He walks away knowing that things could have turned out differently if only... If only...

Four years is enough time for a man to forget his past. Grief turns into a forgotten whisper at the back of the mind and memories stay buried in backrooms that have not seen the light of the sun. The days start to meld into each other and he can't tell them apart. Exorcise. Absorb. Repeat. He is no longer burdened as rules and conventions do not restrict him anymore. He punishes those who are unworthy and imparts kindness to those he deems fit. He gathers those of like mind and surrounds himself with a new family that has the same goal to purge this world of its filth.

"Geto-sama, have you heard the news?" Manami asks. "Everyone is talking about it right now. The infamous Kurosawa family has announced the end of their thousand-year-long exile from the sorcerer's society. Their clan leader is marrying the head of the Gojo clan today."

He stills and his thoughts go quiet. A door creaks open in the recesses of his soul. His gaze sweeps across the sky and the mountains on the horizon. He sees the valley of momiji leaves stretch from the cliffs to the shores of the sea. The winter flowers have bloomed early that year and a mist of plum blossoms hangs on the periphery. He smiles forlornly as he watches the maple leaves fall to the ground. "I see..." he says quietly. "So she went back, after all."

"Hm? Who?" Manami asks curiously with a tilt of the head.

He chuckles. "Do me a favour and cancel everything today."

"What?" she complains. "Why?"

"I'm going shopping," he says with a nonchalant wave. "I'll be back later in the day."

Why does he keep coming back?

The ceremony is simple and traditional, while the reception is lavish and modern. He doesn't expect anything less from Satoru, that show-off. His shock of white hair stands out amongst the crowd as always and his cocky laughter carries across the wedding hall. Nothing has changed about him. He still stands tall and proud oozing confidence and charisma as the first day they met. Satoru is the pinnacle of the sorcerer's society and he can accomplish anything that he sets his mind to.

How is he always able to hold his gaze so steady?

Despite everything that they had gone through together, Suguru wonders how the distance between them has grown so large. His eyes that once shimmered with newfound clarity and the want for retribution are filled with bliss and contentment now. As if nothing has happened, as if nothing has changed. Suguru sees her at his side. The girl he left at the edge of Mount Hiei is nowhere to be seen. Her effervescent smile lights up her eyes and banishes the ghosts that haunt them.

He takes a step forward and suddenly, he's sixteen again. Summer melts from the end of a popsicle stick, the sun setting low as laughter permeates the air, her voice calling from the opposite side of the street and Satoru's teasing taunts. The cicadas scorched in heat, the showers that come out of nowhere and the chiming chiptune music of the arcade rooms. Everything comes rushing back to the forefront of his mind. The sparkling blue sea and the aquarium tanks of Okinawa, the crack of a gunshot and the roaring applause.

Is it hope? Regret?

The words taste the same on his tongue, interwoven so tightly that he can't tell which belongs to the other. All he knows is that he should be there with them. It resonates inside him; this want, this ache, to crawl back to those days of their eternal summer. The days when they could lie next to each other on the warm sands and listen to the waves break against the shore. The smell of cigarettes caught in her hair and the blinding sun in his eyes when she turns to him with a beckoning smile.

"Suguru?"

His name sounds different from her lips.

Somewhere along the line, he found himself in a dark forest and there were no longer any straight paths for him to walk. Madness is a defence against grief and he wants to laugh at himself and this divine comedy.

If only... If only that day...

( 2017 )

     Five years pass at the speed of falling cherry blossoms in the breeze. Sayuri feels that she is still floating in a dream that she wishes will never end. Her days have been filled with bliss and content, though steeped with the metallic taste of sorcery on the tip of her tongue. The faces of her students come and go but are never forgotten. They greet her with fond memories and esteem for the teachings she has imparted to them.

Satoru says that she is a natural, that teaching comes as easily to her as breathing. But all she can think of are the late nights she spent tutoring Megumi to save his failing grades and the long hours forcing herself to perfect her cursed energy output.

"No, Satoru," she would remind him, "Unlike you, it does not come easily to me." There is a reason that he is the one revered as the strongest sorcerer in the whole of Japan, and she a forgotten relic of a golden age long dead.

Sayuri has never asked to be thrust into a position of a role model or parental figure, or have her youth robbed from her hands. So when Nanami Kento and Minami Karina stand before her, she feels a bristle of annoyance run up her spine. A wave of déjà vu washes over her as they nudge a young girl forward. Another familiar set of eyes, another name that tastes like ash in her mouth.

"Please look after her," Karina entreats with hungry ghosts lingering in her aquamarine eyes. They all have their pasts and spirals of destruction. Sayuri can't fault the both of them for leaving when they did and she sometimes wonders whether it was the right decision for them to return.

Haibara Ai has the same misfortune as her late brother for inheriting the sorcery that runs through her veins. Ghost flames burn within her intent gaze but unlike Yu, she looks at the world through a glass half-empty. A girl like Ai should not be running around the streets of Tokyo as an unregistered Curse User, especially when she's made a habit of exorcising cursed spirits in plain daylight without a care for the chaos she leaves in her wake. Kento begrudgingly agrees and Satoru is delighted to have another new student under him.

But there is another reason why Sayuri is reluctant for Ai to join the school. The girl is a Star Plasma Vessel. She wants to tell them that they should be entreating Tsukumo Yuki instead, but she remembers the ordeal they had gone through with Riko. Her heart aches once more for innocence and girlhood lost. Her misgivings give way to an urgency to protect Ai no matter the cost, to shield her from the cruelty of this world and to redeem herself for what they had all lost so many years ago. Sayuri is ashamed of her own selfishness as it ultimately drives her every course of action.

If only she had been less self-serving, she wonders if things would have turned out differently. If she had unleashed the gates of hell on the sorcerer killer, would Kuroi and Riko still be alive? If she had relied less on Satoru, would she still have suffered the image of his death? If she had never left them that day, would Suguru still be standing at their side?

The questions flit through her mind as she watches a large bird-like spirit soar over the school grounds. Like the devil, he appears before her. She doesn't need her sorceror's senses to know who it is that broke through Tengen's barrier. Like the wind and the chill that blows against her skin with certainty, she knows who it is. Sayuri wastes no time and hurries to the school gates. Her stomach twists inside her when she arrives in time. Satoru is already there standing protectively over his students.

"Suguru!" she calls out hoarsely. Bitterly.

All eyes turn to her as she pushes through the crowd with ragged breaths. Kento and Karina tug on her sleeves as she passes but she wrenches herself free. With every step she takes, she feels herself unravelling once more. She sees the Tombs of the Star Corridor stretch endlessly far before her, the scent of blood clings to the walls as she falls to her knees. The blood that drenches their clothes stains their hands in dark crimson. The entire world shifts on its axis as she surrenders herself to the madness.

"Suguru..." she calls as she finally reaches him.

"Sayuri," he responds in that same tone she remembers. The same smile that used to put her at ease. "It's been a while, huh?"

But her name sounds different from his lips.

She stares at him and her insides grow cold when she realises that she no longer recognises him. The man in front of her is a ghost of the boy she once knew, lost within the hills of Mount Hiei never to be found again. She hears a match strike within the depths of her soul. The late nights on the kitchen patio with the kettle whistling behind them, the scent of orange peels on the tips of her fingers as she smokes a cigarette, the cold plump fruit bursting in her mouth with its tangy flavour, the moonlight streaming through their hair and their voices lingering within the twilight.

Her breaths echo in her ears and her throat constricts painfully. Tears prick at her eyes as she raises a hand in the air and her grief turns to anger. The pin-drop silence as she sucks a breath before bringing it down. Satoru catches her wrist and pushes her back. His eyes are wrapped under a layer of bandages but she sees the anguish on his face as readily as it is her own. A shuddering sob escapes her mouth as she clenches a trembling fist into the fabric of Satoru's shirt.

"After all this time..." she chokes out. "Is that all you can say?"

His smile falters and his eyes soften a fraction. Even now, Suguru doesn't blame her for a single thing and it hurts her more than anything else could in that moment. "I'm sorry, Sayuri..." he says quietly, "but I didn't come here for a reunion."

He turns and his back looks so far away from her now. He walks a crooked path that she nor Satoru could ever follow. When he leaves, he takes a piece of her away with him. Bitter tears spill across her face. Satoru pulls the bandages from his eyes to look at her but the words he wants to say never leave his lips.

The classrooms are deserted now and the kitchen stove is empty. Silence pervades where once there was laughter. Running through the schoolyards in the rain, the lazy afternoons in the arcades breaking records that no one can remember anymore. Late nights spent in dingy karaoke dens with beer and karaage, the dawning sun as they stagger back to their dorms. The countless scrapes with cursed spirits and the endless badgerings of concern for the next few days.

The memories of their youth burn before her very eyes and she is powerless to stop it. They turn to cinders, turn to ashes.

If only... If only she had...

     Christmas Eve creeps up on them bringing a parade of a hundred ghosts. Sayuri stands in the middle of Gion with the Kyoto sorcerers. Her gates are scattered throughout the streets and they shine like beacons under the low-hanging sun. At their fundamental level, her gates are wells of energy that any sorcerer might scoop their hands in for a drink. The more sorcerers who have access to them, the better. Sayuri herself can draw on them from any location she chooses. Kento and Karina shift restlessly beside her. They are the only ones from Tokyo with her while everyone else is in Shinjuku with Satoru.

"I'm relieved to be assigned with you, Kurosawa-san," he says in that formal way of his.

She hums in response. "You're welcome, Kento-kun."

"Hm? Why is that?" a young sorceress questions out of curiosity. "Wouldn't you want to be at Tokyo with Gojo Satoru instead?"

"Are you stupid?" Karina looks at her with disdain. "Do you not know who she is? She is the one and only Kurosawa Sayuri."

"Gojo's recklessness aside..." Kento starts. "Kurosawa-san's techniques shine best on an open battlefield such as this. It's actually quite a feat to see."

The sun starts to sink beneath the horizon and a surge of cursed energy pulsates in the air like a heartbeat. "Kento-kun, Karina-chan," Sayuri calls lightly. "Get ready."

He continues, "Think of it like this: if Gojo Satoru is capable of sheer raw power... then Kurosawa-san excels at speed and efficiency. That's why I prefer being here instead because I hate working overtime."

Sayuri sighs in resignation.

The ground rumbles beneath them and snarls break out in the distance. Legions of cursed spirits pour forth from unseen cracks in space. Smaller, skittering lizards and malformed hounds dart towards them on the front lines. The larger Grade One spirits bring up the rear, lumbering forward at a leisurely pace. Sayuri throws her hand before her in a sun seal, thumb curled to her ring finger. "Spear of Retribution," she utters and the air around them starts to ripple with heavenly light. A thousand golden spears slowly emerge in a dome above her, stacking high up to the top of the Yasaka Pagoda. The Kyoto sorcerers take a step back in astonishment.

"Make sure you don't get within her range," Karina warns them with a vicious grin.

Sayuri waits and watches as the cursed spirits grow closer. Once they are within her radius, she hurls her weapons forward. The barrage of spears strikes the ground with lethal force and eradicates the first wave of spirits. She falls through one of her gates and emerges onto the middle of the parade. With a sweeping glance, she estimates the distance between the more dangerous spirits. She then holds her hand up in a life seal, an open palm with thumb to both last fingers. "Domain Expansion: Court of Enlightenment."

Her perception of time slows to the point of planetary phases. The sky cracks open as her barrier stretches across the streets and engulfs the buildings on all sides. It stretches so thin that she can see everything on the outside and in. Curse Users and spirits caught at the edges inevitably escape through but they are of little consequence. Light spills from the splintered domain, the fabric of reality shatters and the twelve heavenly generals emerge from Heaven's gate. They wield ephemeral swords of molten gold that gleam as radiantly as the sun itself and Sayuri lets her hand fall. The blades plunge to the earth, exorcising the spirits in one fell swoop.

Sayuri looks around and strains her senses. The few Curse Users are weak and she does not see them posing any immediate threat. She enters a gate to the top of the highest building and scans the rooftops. Suguru is not here. Then he must be in Tokyo, but she hasn't heard any updates from the managers. Sayuri drops back to the ground below and looks for Kento. She watches as he dispatches a large cursed spirit that has been trampling through the middle of Gion.

"Kento, Karina," she calls. "I'm going back to Tokyo."

Karina exclaims in protest, "Eh?! You're leaving us already?"

Kento pauses and nods to her. "Don't worry, we'll clean up here."

"I trust you," Sayuri says and throws out a hand to rearrange her gates to traverse Shinjuku. She crosses the threshold and looks around, flinching when she hears glass shatter loudly above her. The building before her is decimated by a red mass of repulsion and she feels Satoru's cursed energy saturate the air in an embrace around her. Shards of glass cut through her skin as they rain onto her but she heals herself instantaneously.

"Huh? Sayuri?" A familiar voice calls out and she turns around to find Kusakabe run up with his katana drawn. "What are you doing here? Did something happen in Kyoto?"

"No," she says, her eyes trailing the rooftops to pinpoint Satoru. In situations like this, she wishes her eyes were even half as effective as the Six Eyes and not just a mutagenic by-product of her inheritance. "I need to speak to Satoru."

She steps through her gate once more and walks out to one of the rooftops. The crack of a whip resounds in the air and she conjures her spear in time to block the attack. It catches her off guard and her feet slide inches across the cement floor from the impact. She looks up in irritation and sees a foreign man standing in front of her before backing away as Satoru lunges at him.

"Sayuri," Satoru calls to her and he doesn't seem surprised. "Did you clear out Kyoto already?"

"Kento-kun and Karina-chan are handling the rest," she answers. "I just came here to check something."

"Suguru isn't here," he tells her. "I was gonna look for him after I dealt with this guy." He points at the foreigner. The large bulky man has a strange rope wrapped around his thick arm. It looks worn and the ends have frayed. Sayuri raises a hand and contemplates which gate she should use on him. She's about to ask when Satoru reads her mind once again. "Use heaven," he says with a hint of amusement.

"No need," the man says with impeccable but accented Japanese. "I know when I've overstayed my welcome."

Sayuri cocks her head to the side slightly and unleashes a barrage of spears on him for good measure. She watches the Curse User withdraw from the fight, hopping across the rooftops in the opposite direction. There are still hulking spirits on the streets of Shinjuku that have not been exorcised yet and she looks at Satoru disapprovingly. "Were you having fun?" she asks.

"It was interesting," he remarks with a nonchalant shrug.

She sighs. From their vantage point, she can see everything unfolding on the streets below. Taking her time, she locates each Grade One spirit and conjures her spears above them. She hurls them one by one with careful precision and exorcises them before they can cause any further damage. Satoru claps beside her as he happily stands aside to watch her do all the work.

"Ah, I wish I could do that too," he says. "It's like Galaxy Attack, isn't it? Like clearing a level without making any mistakes. No wonder Nanami-kun and Karina-chan love going on missions with you."

"Everyone loves going on missions with me," she says with a hint of smugness in her voice.

His lips twitch with a suppressed smile as he hums in response. "Why don't you ever go on missions with me then?"

"You don't need me, silly," she responds.

"But I always need my cute Sayuri-chan," he protests and she rolls her eyes. Though she can't help the small chuckle that inevitably slips past her lips. His ability to treat everything so lightly is both a blessing and a curse. Sometimes she wonders how he does it, that he can keep his gaze steady no matter how heavy the burden that sits on his shoulders.

"Suguru is at the school, isn't he?" she guesses. "He wants Orimoto Rika."

"Bingo, my Sayuri-chan is sharp as ever," he praises.

She sighs and walks back to her gate. When he doesn't follow, she looks back with raised brows. "You coming?"

"I'll go there myself," he says with a shudder of disgust. "I hate going through that thing."

"Be my guest," Sayuri laughs as she goes on ahead. The icy hands that bear her across the void no longer troubles her and she emerges at the school. She takes a few steps forward and stills, eyes turning to a narrow corridor between the partitioning walls. Familiar amber eyes stare back as he notices her and she finds herself back to that day when they were both sixteen. The smell of blood sticks to the walls and drenches their clothes. Her body moves of its own accord and she falls next to him, hand reaching forwards with reverse cursed energy.

He grabs her wrist to stop her just like that day. "We don't need to do this again... Sayuri."

She blinks her scarlet eyes and her vision clears. The sun is setting low and the shadows grow long. His face is shrouded in the shade but she sees the nostalgic glint in his eyes. She tries to remember what comes after anger—bargaining, depression or acceptance. "I'm really going to hit you this time, Suguru," she says quietly and he releases his grip. Her hand falls back to her side but she continues to kneel on the ground with her head hung low. Her voice trembles as she whispers, "I'm sorry for everything..."

"Don't blame yourself," he says. "It's a bad habit of yours."

She frowns. Footsteps approach them and she turns to see Satoru standing under the golden rays of the sun. His azure eyes glimmer with the echoes of his immortal divinity. It's a scene that she's seen before, on that day, so many years ago. She is still on her knees in reverence and heaven is a familiar taste on her tongue that she drinks from his lips. So it has come to this moment at last. Her heart constricts painfully in her chest as she rises to her feet and steps away.

"So do you have any last words?" Satoru asks.

Suguru breathes out a short laugh. "No matter what others say, I hate those monkeys. But I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High School. I just... couldn't wear a heartfelt smile in this world."

"Suguru..." Satoru walks forward and kneels in front of him. "I'll miss you."

The expression on Suguru's face is one of shock and disbelief. He laughs it off and there's a flicker of the past in his eyes, for just the briefest of moments. "At least hit me with some curses at my end," he murmurs and looks away.

The long summer ends in shades of red. It sets their memories ablaze, saturates the sun with a kiss and dances longingly in her shimmering eyes. The air is thin between them and it whispers with something sad and nostalgic and familiar. His last breath, like a gentle sigh, blows through the falling maple leaves and mist of plum flowers. The wandering boy emerges from the hilly wilderness by the sea, the kettle on the stove whistles and orange rinds fall to the floor. There is an empty seat at the dining table, silence hangs heavy in the twilight, the orange wedges on the plate remain untouched, and he is no longer here.

If only...