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(THO) CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
🕑 Added 2025-06-24 09:26:34 +0000 UTCTaylor sat on the floor of a bedroom in Gojo’s apartment, knees drawn close to her chest, and hands wedged between them so tightly they trembled. The room was warm and quiet, peaceful even, but no amount of silence could soften the sound of Brian’s shallow breathing.
He lay in the bed across from her, nearly still beneath crisp white sheets. The rise and fall of his chest was too faint, but it was thankfully there.
Gojo might have been flippant about most things, but everything in his apartment was too clean. Not in the way someone obsessed with being neat kept their space, but more like someone who didn’t live in it at all. Everything looked untouched and brand new, like a display unit in a showroom.
It raised some questions.
The place was too nice. High ceilings. Private rooms. A view of the good part of Brockton Bay, and nestled high in a skyscraper. It was the kind of apartment that came with a waiting list and background checks, and she doubted random people had given him enough money to afford it. The cost of living was through the roof due to the city’s economic situation.
It made her wonder who he’d blackmailed, bribed, or maybe just outright killed to get the lease.
She’d asked once. He changed the subject with a smile and a joke.
He did that a lot.
But she didn’t care about that now. Not the apartment. Or the imported tea she’d ignored on the kitchen counter. Not even Gojo himself, wherever he was.
Her eyes were on Brian.
He looked wrong.
Not because of the injuries, though they were bad. She didn’t know what Gojo had done exactly, only that he disappeared with Brian after telling her and Aisha to meet him back at his apartment. When they returned, Brian was stable. Or as stable as he could be after what he went through.
No. What made him look wrong was how fragile he seemed.
Brian had always been the quiet strength of the group, unusually calm in a way Lisa could never fully emulate. He could be stern. He could be harsh. But he never lost control. Even when everything went to hell, Brian anchored them.
Taylor had depended on that more than she realized.
So seeing him like this…
She exhaled shakily and leaned forward, pressing her forehead to her knuckles. She tried to quiet the noise in her head, but nothing could dull the cold grasp of reality.
Alec was gone. So was Lisa.
Judas. Angelica.
Even Bitch was missing. Maybe she ran. Maybe she didn’t get the chance. But Taylor wasn’t holding her breath.
She barely remembered the aftermath of the Lung fight. Everything was a blur of motion and screams as searched everywhere for her friends, ears ringing, and thoughts scattered.
She remembered crawling forward on her hands and knees, the heat still rising from Lisa’s corpse. She remembered touching what was left of her friend’s limbs. She remembered the smell.
She had gagged, and then stumbled forward, uncaring of the vomit that trailed from her open mouth, as she saw Aisha. The girl was curled protectively around her brother’s broken frame, shaking with sobs too wretched to sound human.
Taylor didn’t say anything, still in shock. Just pulled her closer, clinging to her while the seconds dragged and Gojo watched silently.
Then, Brian gasped.
Just a breath.
She remembered the shock she felt at that moment that he had survived Lung’s attack. The relief that he had survived. And the sadness that the others had not.
But it lit something inside her, something irrational and burning and loud. And Taylor, shaken and bloody and more alone than she’d ever felt, held onto it. Because that hope—that stupid, reckless hope—was the only thing she had left.
. . . . .
The bedroom door creaked open behind her, the only warning Gojo ever gave as his footsteps were always silent.
Taylor didn’t look back.
“He’s still stable,” he said softly.
She nodded once. “Thank you. Again.”
He didn’t respond right away. Then, after a pause:
“He’ll wake up. Not today, but soon.”
She turned at that. He wasn’t wearing the blindfold this time, just a pair of dark round sunglasses perched low on the bridge of his nose. His eyes, too bright and too knowing, studied her with a kind of calm patience she hadn’t expected from someone like him.
She felt oddly compelled to talk, though she didn't know why.
So, swallowing hard, she did.
“They’re dead,” she said, voice hoarse.
Gojo didn’t answer. Didn’t say I know, or I’m sorry, or any of the things people were supposed to say.
He just watched her and continued waiting.
Eventually, she spoke again. The words burned on their way out. “You could’ve saved them. Why didn't you?”
It came out sharper than she intended, but she didn't take it back. She knew what Gojo was capable of, knew that distance and space didn't seem to matter to him. If he’d wanted to, he could have saved Alec and Lisa. Could have prevented Brian’s injuries.
Gojo’s expression didn’t change. Not even a flicker.
“Because I didn’t care about them the way you did,” he said.
Taylor flinched. “That’s—”
“Cruel?” He interrupted with a half-smile. “Yeah. Maybe. But at least, it’s honest.”
She didn’t know how to respond to that.
Gojo moved forward, crouching beside her, and resting his forearms on his knees. It annoyed her, the way he could do some things with casual ease.
“You cared about them,” he said. “I didn’t. But I am interested in you and Brian. Maybe Aisha.”
Her eyes snapped to him.
“That’s why I was there at all,” he continued. “Because you were.”
She didn’t say anything. Not because she agreed or even because she forgave him. But because part of her—deep, bitter, and tired—already knew the truth. She just wanted confirmation, and maybe, to be proven wrong.
Gojo did whatever he liked whenever he wanted to because he was powerful enough, and he wasn't beholden to anyone. That was the ugly truth of this world, one she’d learned a long time ago. Even before the locker.
He stood again, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt.
“Get some rest,” he added. “I’ll watch him.”
Taylor looked at Brian once more, made to resist, then sighed and nodded. Her legs felt stiff when she stood.
She looked back at Brian, still breathing and still here, and made to resist. Then she thought better of it, sighed, and forced herself to her feet. Her body protested, sore and stiff and heavier than it should be, but it moved and that was all that mattered.
She made it to the door before pausing, hand on the frame.
“You said he’ll wake up?”
Gojo’s smile was all teeth.
“I chose him. And my students always exceed my expectations.”
Comments
OnAHiatus
She will have time to come to terms with things. Brian’s gonna be out for a while as I figured out what to do with him
Disorder
Talk about brutal honesty. Sometimes it's good to hear, other times it's just .. just ... I don't know, but maybe it's better to hear a small lie then that. Well, ignoring Gojo, Taylor will have acknowledge that her team members deaths aren't necessarily Gojos fault. Along with Lung who did the deed, and Coil who set them up, the Undersiders are criminals, meaning they've stepped on a couple of toes due to their activities. Retaliation is a common thing, so she'll have to accept that it's also their own fault for getting complacent.
OnAHiatus
Soon, my dear Watson. Very soon
JustaDude
At least Taylor doesn't necessarily hold it against Gojo. Or at least she understands to some extent. Now that he's got some students hopefully they'll be able to see his better qualities. Can't wait for him to pull out the, "my students are watching. I'm gonna show off a little."
