Hiromitsu Morofushi found himself somewhat at a loss for words. After a long pause, he replied softly, "...Something like that."
Following the incident, the crime scene had been swiftly cleared by the police. Exactly how much blood there was, or whether it had splattered onto the ceiling or the floor, was something he had no way of knowing. Just as he couldn't possibly imagine exactly how much pain his parents had endured when that blade pierced their bodies.
Morofushi's knuckles tightened unconsciously, the pale skin throwing his blue veins into sharp relief.
He had assumed his roommate would press for more details, but Satoru Gojo simply nodded and let the matter drop.
Morofushi paused, unable to stop himself from speaking up. "Hisano-kun... aren't you going to ask me why I'd have a nightmare like that?"
The black-haired youth gazed out at the night sky, looking thoroughly indifferent. "There's no real need for that."
"You don't particularly want to talk about it, right? Even I have a modicum of situational awareness."
Morofushi blanked for a moment, apparently not expecting such an answer. In truth, had the boy insisted on prying to the very end, he wouldn't have hidden it. But... it was undeniable that exposing one's scars before another brought its own brand of agony.
"I noticed it last time too—Little Hiro, you never seem to sleep very soundly."
"...I'm sorry."
Hearing Morofushi's completely unprompted apology, Gojo stretched lazily.
"So, whenever you feel like talking, I'll be right here to listen," he stated airily. "We're roommates, after all."
Hearing this, Morofushi suddenly felt the heavy, suffocating weight in his chest lift significantly. He exhaled a soft breath, his gaze drifting back out toward the vast, boundless night sky. Every single star shone with astonishing brilliance, looking as though one could reach out and pluck them from the heavens.
"When I was a kid in Nagano, you could see a starry sky just like this one." His tone carried a hint of nostalgia. "But after that, it became rare to see it again."
Come to think of it, Hisano-kun was born in that region too, wasn't he?
Perhaps, at some point during their childhood, they had looked up at the exact same scenery?
Satoru Gojo, who had functionally never set foot in Nagano in his life: Uh... completely no.
However, speaking of this topic triggered a memory of his own. The youth, whose hair was still slightly damp, leaned against the window sill and said, "A long time ago, back when I was... at the orphanage, I used to look through the fence to watch the stars outside all the time."
"If you can't sleep, just count the stars. It's incredibly boring, but it's better than nothing."
Morofushi looked at his profile. Seeing that the youth appeared to be in a decent mood, he ventured to ask, "Did you often struggle to sleep when you were a kid, Hisano-kun?"
Gojo pondered. Even when he was living a life of pampered luxury back in the Jujutsu world, he hadn't been able to sleep like a log every single day. "Just occasionally, I guess?"
Not wanting his roommate to spiral into over-analysis, he added, "There's no special reason for it. Everyone suffers from insomnia from time to time."
"Ah... I see."
Yet, within Morofushi's mind, an image had already materialized: a tiny Hisano Nozomi tossing and turning on a hard, dilapidated bed, freezing in the dead of winter, unable to rest properly while trapped in nightmares.
Gojo: ? Do you really see, though?
Recalling the contents he and Rei had uncovered in the records room, Morofushi parted his lips with a touch of hesitation.
"What is it?"
"Hisano-kun... did you never think about being adopted back then? If you had the company of a family, perhaps you would have been able to sleep well."
Feeling a twinge of guilt for what felt like crossing a boundary, Morofushi's voice grew softer and softer. He himself had only managed to brighten up and see an improvement in his sleep after being taken in by relatives and subsequently meeting Rei.
"No need. I do perfectly fine on my own."
The black-haired youth's utterly carefree demeanor failed to make Morofushi feel any better.
"Is that so..."
For a moment, the air between them grew slightly stagnant.
Gojo looked at the unshiftable dark circles beneath Morofushi's eyes and suddenly recalled a certain item he had purchased from the System Shop. That thing... might actually be of some use here.
"Right, besides staring at the stars, there's another method that cures insomnia flawlessly." The youth pivoted the topic, his tone light yet inherently commanding curiosity.
"What method?"
Gojo slipped his right hand into his pajama pocket, pretending to rummage around for a brief moment before extracting a single piece of candy. "Here, this is my secret trick."
The handsome, cat-eyed youth accepted it, noting that it was a pale blue candy. The wrapper cast a faint fluorescence beneath the night glow, resembling a fragment of the moon.
"Back when I was a kid at that place... whoever performed the best received sweets as a reward." Gojo shrugged, his tone completely matter-of-fact. "Naturally, I was always the one walking away with these candies."
"Later on, I discovered that as long as I ate one before bed, insomnia ceased to exist."
He wasn't lying; he was merely switching concepts. The orphanage equaled the Black Organization's training camp, performing the best equaled taking the top spot, and as for sweets as rewards—he had certainly hoarded his fair share back then.
...As for the part where Gin mocked him for eating candy before bed, claiming his teeth would rot out before he turned twenty, there was no need to bring that up.
"Want to give it a shot, Little Hiro?"
Hiromitsu Morofushi kept his hold on it, his fingertips brushing against the edge of the wrapper. He peeled it open and popped the candy into his mouth.
A wave of sweetness instantly dissolved across his tongue, carrying a subtle milky fragrance intertwined with a phantom trace of floral notes—resembling a blanket that had basked under a spring sun, radiating warmth and security.
"...It's really sweet."
"Of course it is, it's candy!"
The upward curve of Gojo's lips carried a hint of childish smugness, causing Morofushi's slightly knitted brows to unfurl entirely as he let out a laugh.
The two chatted for a few more minutes. Gradually, a wave of drowsiness washed over Morofushi, and his eyelids grew heavy.
Gojo reached out to draw the curtains closed, leaving only a microscopic gap so a sliver of moonlight could still trickle inside.
"Go to sleep if you're tired. We still have classes tomorrow."
Morofushi nodded, settling back onto his mattress. Gojo let out a yawn of his own, burying his head beneath his blanket, leaving only a tiny tuft of cowlick poking out.
"Goodnight, have a sweet dream."
"...Goodnight, Hisano-kun." Morofushi closed his eyes. "You too."
As the drowsiness deepened, he gradually drifted into the realm of sleep.
This time, he didn't dream of blood.
In its stead was a sweeping expanse of soft, green meadow. A gentle breeze rolled past, carrying the scent of fresh grass and wild flowers as it lightly brushed against the tips of Morofushi's hair. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, scattering intricate flecks of bright, warm light before his eyes.
The distant sound of children's laughter echoed.
"Hiromitsu! Hurry over!"
A teenage Takaaki Morofushi stood a short distance away, waving toward him. On the picnic blanket beside him, their mother was unboxing a bento, while their father rested his chin on one hand, watching the two brothers with a gentle smile.
"...Brother? And, Mom and Dad?" Morofushi stood frozen.
He took a step forward, the grass rustling softly beneath his feet. With every step he took, a sensation both deeply familiar and distant grew clearer—feeling like something from a long, long time ago, yet simultaneously like something that had just occurred yesterday.
"What are you dazing out for?" Takaaki reached out to ruffle his hair, his tone cheerful. "Mom made your favorite fried shrimp!"
"Whoa, really?" Young Hiromitsu ran over with pure joy.
He noticed a few small white daisies scattered across the picnic blanket. Right, his mother always remarked that daisies were beautiful, and his father would pluck one to tuck into her hair.
His mother slid the bento box before him. Inside was a neat arrangement of golden tamagoyaki, crispy fried shrimp, and mini sausages cut into adorable octopus shapes.
"Eat while it's hot. Mom will make it for you again next time." She looked at her child, the warmth in her eyes threatening to spill over.
His father handed him a glass of orange juice. "Don't just focus on eating, remember to have a drink too."
"Mm!"
Hiromitsu happily dug into his favorite foods while lifting his head. His brother was currently competing with his father to see whose paper airplane could fly further, while his mother cheered loudly for them from the sidelines.
Sunlight, a green meadow, a gentle breeze. And the laughter of his family.
...It's so beautiful it feels exactly like a dream.
Once he finished eating, his mother retrieved a candy from the basket, handing it over to his tiny self.
"Here, a sweet milk candy. It's delicious."
"Thank you, Mom!"
Hiromitsu savored the sweet taste on his tongue, suddenly finding it vaguely familiar. He lay down across his mother's lap, murmuring contentedly, "If only it could stay like this forever..."
His mother lightly patted his shoulder, her voice sounding incredibly gentle, as though drifting from a great distance.
"Mm, it will always stay like this."
When the faint glimmers of dawn filtered through the gap in the curtains, Hiromitsu Morofushi slowly opened his eyes. The ceiling of the dormitory gradually sharpened within his field of vision.
For a brief spell, he couldn't quite snap back to reality.
Last night's dream... had been far too real.
He lifted a hand to touch the corner of his eye, his fingertips registering a trace of moisture. Perhaps it was the sweetness of that candy before bed that had stirred up the memories buried deep within his heart?
He lay quietly for a while, allowing the residual warmth of the dream to course gently through his chest. Those precious, lost moments that could never be reclaimed remained vividly alive within his mind at this very moment.
Morofushi turned his head to look at the opposite berth. His roommate was already up; the blanket was thrown together in a somewhat messy heap, but the youth himself was nowhere to be seen.
"Truly incredible." He wiped his eyes just as he caught the sound of the door being pushed open.
"Yo, you're awake?" Satoru Gojo strolled inside dangling a slice of bread from his mouth, a carton of milk gripped in his hand. "How'd you sleep?"
"Never better." Hiromitsu Morofushi flashed him a smile entirely devoid of shadows. "Thank you for the candy, Hisano-kun."
Perhaps the angels from fairy tales who brought sweet dreams... genuinely existed.
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