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“Dude, you look awful”.
He barely registers his brother's voice and hums an automatic agreement.
“Seriously, we should go see a doctor”.
“I’m fine”, Choso reassures him and sips on his coffee. He can’t taste the savor anymore.
Yuuji goes around the table and presses his hand on Choso’s forehead, a rather preoccupied expression on his face. “You’re cold, too cold, bro”.
Choso gently snaps his hands and moves away in his chair. “I’m fine, Yuu”.
They fall into an argument after that. Things have been like that for months now, ever since Eso and Ketchizu moved away. Work. College. It was only the two of them now, and Choso wasn’t himself.
It was hard to pin it on his elder brother's departure, Yuuji often said to Megumi. There was no reason for it to be the cause of his older brother’s distress, as for the other two texted and called on a regular basis.
“Maybe he’s on drugs?”, suggested Fushiguro.
“Dude! He’s weird and all but a junkie? No way”.
“I don’t know Itadori, he’s been taking on a father and mother role for the three of you since… since forever. And you’re going to college next year too, maybe he’s suffering from the empty nest already”.
“Nah. I mean. It could be, but Cho loves us, he would want us to move on, right?”
“I dunno, it’s your brother”.
“ Besides”, he continues, ignoring Megumi’s uninterested expression. “It's like he’s sick . I can hear him at night, mumbling nonsense; he barely sleeps”.
“Insomnia?”
“That’s the definition of “barely sleeping”, isn’t it?”, he replies, annoyed.
“Well, what do you want me to say? I told you weeks ago, make him go see someone”.
“He doesn’t want to!”
-
Choso doesn’t need a doctor. He understands Yuuji’s concerns but, really, his little brother shouldn’t be worried about him. On the contrary, Yuuji should be happy for him. This is the best Choso has ever felt. What was the matter if he didn’t sleep, or eat, or barely had energy to crawl out of bed sometimes? It was nothing but a small price to pay just to feel like this.
His body? Of cotton.
His blood? Hot chocolate running down narrow streams of veins.
His flesh? Silk, fragile but soft.
His heart? Hers.
Choso has been dreaming about her. She just came to him during a night like any other night and by the mere touch of a finger she made a mess between his legs. He felt compelled to offer her something in return, for Choso has never been but a selfless being. He dared not to take without giving first.
So he gave.
For another touch from her, Choso bled.
And she feasted.
It was a fair exchange, she told him. She was hungry and he tasted good , sweet. She drank from his heart, drank his fears and uncertainties, his devotion and love, drank from his pleasure and his pain.
Choso wanted to give her more, because for him it wasn’t fair. She gave him too much , a pleasure only reserved to gods. He had no right to be touched by her, to fuck her , cum deep in her womb and have his head spinning in a whirl of tender agony. Had no right to know her name and call out to her. Yuki
Yuki Yuki Yuki
Choso uses her name like a prayer and then punishes himself, for a mouth as sinful as his shouldn't entertain the sound and taste of her name.
Yuki, like honey.
Yuki, like fresh water.
Yuki, like the weight of the Earth upon his shoulders.
Yuki, like cold snow on winter's prime.
Yuki, like blood.
"Eat me", Choso would beg. "Please, please, eat me"
"I will, soon".
She had no rush and no reason to make this quick. The man was delicious and it was just so long since she found herself such a nice meal to play with. Touch starved and sweet, strong with a heart of gold. A little hard to chew on the edges, but tender at the core. Stubborn sometimes, like a good fighter. Submissive, like an eager puppy to be praised.
Oh, there was just enough for a demon like her.
Yuki slowly but surely consumed him. She would taste his moans and cries as an appetizer; would then open her body to him and milk every drop out of his exhausted body, and finish her meal gulping down big chunks of his blood. Everything was so willingly given to her, as if the man wanted to die faster.
As if he knew his life, as tasty as it was, was worthless in the greater scheme of existence and everything he could aim to be was a sacrifice for her. Another one, like the ones before and the ones that will follow, lonely men waiting for their turn to become one with her, to provide for her and make the curse of her name live out.
-
She smiled fondly, a thumb caressing his pale cheek after a generous dinner. She brushes some strands of hair out of his sweaty forehead and places a kiss there.
“It’s too soon”, she coos. “I don’t want this to end just yet”.
His eyes are unfocused. It’s been a while now since he’s been like this, like he can’t see straight.
“Promise me, Choso”. He follows her voice, her shape blurry hovering over him, just the playful movement of her hips forcing him to keep breathing in low pants. His groin aches, but the pain always felt good with her. “You gotta hold a little longer in there”.
He feels a finger pressing down hard in his temple.
“You need to be a good boy for me, and last a little longer. Think you can do that? For me?”
His sunken eyes look up to her, eyelids almost too heavy to keep them open. Something, something, just something kind of feels wrong for the first time, it’s like he’s forgetting about something important. There was a reason, he’s sure of it, for him to say no and fight back. It's the tip of his tongue, the reason, some names, someone who was important to him.
She circles her hips to the right angle, poisoning his mind a little more. He was hard to crack, but she just needs to keep mounting him until he’s tripping over the edge again, eyes rolled back in ecstasy and pain, tears pricking in his eyes and a broken moan containing his death sentence.
yes
-
Yuuji was devastated, seeing how his own brother was slowly fading right before his eyes. He called Eso and both of them dragged his ass to the hospital, but it made no difference. Choso wasn’t here anymore, he hasn’t been for a while now. Yet, they tried everything, never giving up on him, as Choso never gave up to any of them.
It took him another month to finally die.
No doctor could explain what happened, their excuses mere formalities to try and avoid a lawsuit for malpraxis.
Eso needed answers, because there was no way, no reason for Choso to have died like this. He was fine, healthy, how on earth was he now lying dead on a stretcher, a white sheet covering even whiter skin, as if the man Eso used to call Aniki had suddenly ran out of blood entirely.
And answers, they received not. There wasn’t any.
Not one they could all make sense of at least. Because it couldn’t be. Yuuji was just tired, seeing things that weren’t there, because he was in pain. Seeing Choso dying little by little was a torture, and his mind surely was playing tricks on him. Tricks, or trying to cope by making up ghosts.
Yet he doesn’t let another night slip by without praying first. He wasn’t a believer, but now it felt like a protection and he couldn’t sleep without praying dusty words that, deep down, he knew held no power. But it was just in case that what he saw was real, even if it was impossible.
Just in case can’t hurt, right?
A prayer, futile and archaic and dumb, to keep that woman out of his memory.
Of her golden-like hair, brushing Choso’s pale cheeks.
Of her fingers digging deep into Choso’s rib cage.
Of her hands cupping a dried heart and teeth sinking in it.
Of her smile as Choso’s shattered breath faded at each bite.
Just in case all of that was real, he prayed; he did it harder still, trembling even, when the autopsy report came back stating that the corpse had his heart missing and a name popped in his mind.
Itadori prayed that Yuki never found him.