satoru gojo finds it odd when your flowers go missing.
well, they don’t go missing per se—every bouquet he’s given you has spent its short lifetime brightening your vases… until they simply don’t. and each time, he compensates easily, never one to hesitate over “just because” flowers and gifts.
but what unsettles him is how he’s never seen them wilt. they don’t wither, don’t droop with time. one day they’re there, and the next they’re gone.
strangely enough, he never sees them in the trash either.
he tries not to overthink, but one evening it slips.
“baby,” he murmurs, resting his chin on your shoulder, “do you like the flowers i give you?”
“of course i do.” you shrug, light and easy.
“then… would you rather they not be real?”
you blink at him, caught off guard.
“i just mean—” his voice falters, unusually unsure, “i don’t want you to keep them up for a while and then throw them away. they’re yours, but… maybe you’d prefer something that lasts. something permanent.”
you catch the faint crease in his brow, the way he fidgets like the thought is heavier than he wants to admit.
“toru,” you whisper gently, “are you upset that the flowers don’t stay longer?”
he exhales, fingers brushing through his hair. “i don’t know. maybe i just—maybe it scares me that they vanish so soon. maybe i want something that says our love won’t fade.”
for a moment, the air stills. there’s a tenderness in his worry, but also a shadow of fear—because even the strongest sorcerer knows that things he loves don’t always last.
you stand, wordless, and reach for a notebook tucked into your shelf. flipping it open, you press it into his hands.
inside, layered between soft pages, are every flower he’s ever given you. pressed, preserved, petals fragile but enduring—each one a record of time, of memory, of love.
his eyes widen.
“no need for plastic flowers,” you smile, voice low but steady, “when i know how to keep the real ones. they’ll last, toru. maybe not forever in the world’s eyes, but… enough for me. enough for us.”
and in that moment, he considers that love might not just be the worst curse of all.