Gojo-sensei has something to say Ch. 67
Chapter 67: Hundreds of Languages
Not here, it doesn't work here!
The spring sunshine was very warm and gentle.
The soft sunlight poured down from the branches covered with cherry blossoms. Behind the shoji door, fine dust rose in the air, and the cut light was scattered on the tatami.
The cherry blossoms in the courtyard fell quietly, and their mottled shadows hit the floor.
The cherry blossoms here bloom and fade, fade and bloom again. The four seasons passed, and the years passed like water, starting over and over again, and spring returned again.
The breeze was gentle, and the cherry blossoms fall in a dream-like manner.
The ancient and soft singing rippled in the air, like ripples in a spring water blown by the breeze.
The cloud-like cherry blossoms cast mottled and dense light shadows on the red feather fabric, and the gorgeous fiery red hair hung down like a waterfall, with the ends of the hair winding on the floor where the cherry blossoms were scattered.
She faced the gorgeous cherry blossoms in the courtyard and let her beautiful long hair fall naturally. She held a small and soft child in her arms. She held the child with one hand and patted the child's back gently with the other hand. She hummed an ancient, almost lost song.
The child in her arms was leaning against her chest. Her red fetal hair was delicate and soft. She closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep. She breathed evenly, and her red eyelashes trembled from time to time.
The woman holding the child remained expressionless, just patting the child's back gently and coaxing the child to sleep.
"Sukasha."
The movement of the woman's hand suddenly stopped, and the child in her arms moved, and the delicate eyelashes trembled slightly. Seeing this, the woman continued the movement of her hand, continued to pat the child's back, and coaxed the child to sleep.
"Do you really want to keep this child?"
The red-haired man stopped by the door, holding on to the door frame, and asked softly.
The slight breeze swept the scattered petals, and they ran past my feet in a hurry.
"Um."
The woman responded softly.
"The elders would not agree."
The man's voice was a little cold.
"This child no longer belongs to 'this world'."
The man's voice was calm and solemn.
"Sukasha, you can't do this. People who don't respect life and play with it will be punished by God."
The man took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down.
Silence was in the air, the wind was quiet and leisurely, something was quietly expanding in the courtyard, and at the moment when it expands to the extreme, it quietly broke.
"Let her go, Sukasha."
The man once again broke the silence in the courtyard. The veins in his hands that were swallowed by the wide sleeves bulged, and they clenched into fists involuntarily.
Pathos and depression were like water ripples in the dark night, spreading out in all directions gently and slowly, silently.
"But I have brought her back from 'the other world', brother."
The woman raised her head slightly, lowered her eyelids, and looked at the sleeping child in her arms.
"I also turned her into the best... 'container' in the world."
The woman's forehead was gently pressed against the forehead of the sleeping child, her voice trembled slightly, and her thin body trembled convulsively, as if she was enduring great pain.
"Sorry, it's my fault."
Tears seemed to well up and fall uncontrollably.
"I turned you into this."
Something wet fell on the face, falling bit by bit, sliding down the baby's soft skin.
'The cherry blossoms in March are so beautiful.'
The woman raised her face stained with tears. The moment she raised her head, her eyes were filled with splendor and prosperity like clouds, and the light and shadow cut by the clusters of cherry blossoms fell into the amber eyes.
'You can watch it for me next year.'
The fingertips gently and carefully touch the swaddled baby, touching the baby's soft skin, feeling the warm body temperature bit by bit, and describing the tender facial features bit by bit.
When human beings were still young babies, they instinctively focus on the outside world with their eyes, and imitate them consciously or unconsciously. Imitate adults' language, imitate adults' movements, and even lively birds and beautiful flowers were the objects of imitation by children.
Some people said that every child's growth began by imitating adults.
It was said that the first words a child learned to say were the words they heard the longest. After listening to them for a long time, they began to imitate them. At first, they were single syllables such as 'dad' and 'mom'. When they were about one year old, they would start to learn the language one after another, and they would be able to say simple greetings, such as 'hello', 'good evening', and 'good afternoon'. Over time, with the accumulation of vocabulary, it would not be a problem to speak a fluent sentence at a certain age.
But many years ago, the objects of imitation in front of her were only the sealing runes all over the house, the silently drooping bamboo curtains, and the occasional beam or two of sunlight that broke into the room through the window.
Relying on the five senses that were different from ordinary people, she could hear the cheers of birds, the sound of snow falling on the branches, and the conversations of various people.
"I don't know."
"Oh, the weather is so nice today."
"Do you think the dress I'm wearing today looks good?"
"It's so annoying."
"Candy is sweet."
"The cherry blossoms are beautiful."
Various languages and words were full of different emotions of various people, happy, sad, angry, excited... one after another, they were passed into her ears.
She found one or two sentences from these unrelated words, and understood the meaning of 'name' from those one or two sentences, and then she realized that she did not have a name.
Thanks to these people and these words, when someone opened the door and walked in and asked her, "What's your name?", she could tell that person seriously that she had no name.
She just told the truth. People outside said that children who were willing to tell the truth were good children. She told the truth. Although it did not prove that she was a good child, at least she would not be hated by others, right?
The person who asked her name was very sad. Then he searched his pockets and found a small candy in his wide cuff. He put the candy into her hand and asked her if she liked it. Eat something sweet, and then tell her that this was candy and the taste of sugar is sweet.
"Candy is sweet."
This was very sweet candy.
"The cherry blossoms are beautiful."
The beautiful cherry blossoms were always blooming outside.
At that time, she had not yet learned to refute.
Perhaps it was the fear that touched the bottom of people's hearts and brought back the shadows left by the past. When the old man saw her face clearly, his originally gentle expression changed at that moment, becoming fierce and stern, and became covered with dark clouds, like a sky with snow in winter.
"Sukasha!"
This was the first time she heard this name. At that moment, the peace that the years had brought to the old man was discarded by himself, and he shouted out this name with fear.
"No, you're not Sukasha... you are..." Anger crept up the old man's wrinkled face with dissatisfaction, and he looked uneasy, "You shouldn't be here!"
"Please be careful what you say!" Her sister pulled her behind her, and the immature girl faced the sullen old man. "She is still a child! She has not done anything wrong!"
"Her existence is the biggest fault!" The old man subconsciously raised his voice, but he was caught off guard and caught the eye of the child who was blocked behind by the older girl.
With inorganic eyes without joy or sorrow, a silent coldness spread from his heart to his limbs. The old man looked away in embarrassment.
A monster who cursed her parents to death, an alien who violated the laws of life.
Young and ignorant children were good at imitating, but only a few were aware of the negative impact of improper language on people. They intermittently speak words they learned from the elders, and confide in her without knowing what was good or evil.
She could not refute and would not refute. Her vocabulary was poor, she was ignorant of everything, and she had not yet learned human emotions and desires, so she could only remain blank and silent.
After her sister accidentally caught her, the patriarch's daughter put down her usual etiquette and identity, rolled up her sleeves and raised her arms, and personally gave those ignorant brats a good beating.
She seemed to have learned how to fight at that time.
The consequence of the fight was, of course, that the group was taken to the front of the clan leader. The clan leader strictly forbade anyone to talk about related matters again, but unexpectedly in the end, he acquiesced and allowed her to enter and leave the clan compound freely.
In the drowsy state, the chirping of birds rose and fell in the ears, and soft light spilled onto the floor.
White snow accumulates in the empty courtyard, and the ebony branches are covered with crystal frost. The winter sky was clear and cold. The white snow and the black branches form a sharp contrast in the clear and cold winter.
In the cold and silent winter courtyard, a soft meow suddenly sounded.
The cat stepped on plum blossom-like footprints, and its soft white fur almost blended with the snow.
The big cat, which was larger than most cats, jumped up on the floor of the veranda, stepped on the soft flesh pads, and walked silently into the room. It walked to the ball wrapped in a blanket, and slipped into the blanket with smooth movements.
The person in the blanket was as warm as a small heater. After purring, which represented a good mood, the big cat contentedly sat next to the person in the blanket and closed its eyes.
It was already bright outside the window, the window frame neatly cut out the sunlight, and clear raindrops hung under the eaves.
White clouds rolled in the atmosphere, and golden light splashed down from the more distant sky, seeping through the clouds and falling into the city full of buildings.
The rain left over from last night was soaked by the morning sun, leaving mottled water stains on the flat bluestone floor.
It's morning.
Yayoi slowly opened her eyes, moved herself slowly, tilted her head, trying to find a comfortable position to continue sleeping, but her forehead hit something, not hard, but a little soft, and still warm.
"Good morning."
A familiar voice sounded above her head, hoarse and low.
Yayoi looked up and saw a familiar face, with soft white hair sticking to his face and caressing the soft fabric of the pillow.
Light and shadow play in the pale blue eyes, and the long and delicate white eyelashes were like falling snow plum branches.
Yayoi moved and found that she was almost completely huddled in Satoru's arms, her forehead resting on his chest, and Satoru's chin almost touching the top of her hair.
The distance was only a few feet away, and his warm breath fell on her forehead, making it itchy and numb.
She hadn't seen this face in ten years.
On a rainy night, when she heard his voice, that face emerged in her memory bit by bit, and finally appeared clearly in the rain curtain with few lights.
Yayoi moved her nose, and her nasal cavity was instantly filled with the smell of orange soda.
He took a shower at her home yesterday, and the shower gel he used seemed to be hers.
"Why are you in my bed?"
Yayoi's expression was calm, and she suddenly remembered that this man had vowed just last night that he would just lay the floor.
Her bed was originally a single bed, and two adults were squeezed into a single bed. Not to mention that Satoru was tall and muscular, with a height of 190+ and a body full of tendons, and the space for movement was pitifully small.
"Eh~" Maybe it was because he had just woken up, but his voice was still hoarse, and the drawn-out tone was inexplicably aggrieved, "You're having a nightmare."
Yayoi paused, stunned for a moment. Satoru raised his hand and gently rubbed the pad of his thumb on her eyebrows, "The wrinkles are so deep here."
The eyelids were drooping, because she was lying on her side, half of her face was soaked in the soft morning light, and the other half was trapped in shadow.
"What were you dreaming about?" Satoru asked softly.
Yayoi blinked, "I don't remember."
"Then don't think about it."
Satoru's fingertips moved all the way down, lingering all the way, and finally stopped on her cheek. With a slight exertion of his thumb and index finger, the fingertips sank into the soft skin.
"...huh?" Yayoi made a confused sound. Her amber eyes looked at Satoru confusedly and asked him vaguely, "What are you doing?"
"Hai." Satoru's eyes curled up, the corners of his mouth raised, and he spoke slowly with a strong voice, "Sure enough, the feeling hasn't changed at all~" Still so good.
Yayoi: "...do you want to fight?"
It's hard, the fist was hard.
"No, I didn't." Satoru blinked innocently, put it away when he saw it was good, and immediately released his sinful claws, raising his hands high so innocently, as if he was not the one who committed the crime just now.
On the table beside the bed, the glass surface of the photo frame reflects a shallow halo, and the alarm clock next to the photo frame ticks the second hand.
After letting go of his hand, a light red mark was left on her soft skin, just like the light plum blossoms left on the plain silk cloth.
The skin on her face not only felt good to the touch, but was also tender.
Satoru thought secretly, Yayoi suddenly jumped up from the bed, the wide skirt of her pajamas was lifted, and the fair skin of her thighs appeared and disappeared between the skirts.
"It's over!" Yayoi rolled off the bed.
I'm going to be late QAQ
Yayoi scratched her hair into a mess, looked at the alarm clock and then at the pajamas she was wearing, and almost collapsed on the spot.
Satoru: ???
Satoru, who had never worried about being late, watched Yayoi pull out a pair of pants and a top from the closet.
For the sake of comfort, pajamas were specially made into a light and loose style, which was suitable for sleeping and easy to wear. Simply put it on.
The red-haired girl was circling around the room anxiously. The moment she grabbed the hem of her skirt, Satoru suddenly understood. The white cat jumped up from the bed at the speed of light and grabbed her hand.
"What are you doing?" Satoru's pupils trembled. He understood this redhead very well. At various times, she acted faster than her mind. "Don't do it here, it won't work here!"
He couldn't control it!
"What's wrong? I can tell you that my room is fine!" Yayoi showed her urgency through actions.
Another three seconds and fifty meters would not save her perfect attendance award!
*slam*
The door to the bedroom was violently kicked open and slammed against the wall with a loud sound.
"What are you doing?!"
The old man with white hair at the temples held the spatula in his hand, his eyes like a wolf and a tiger.
Yuji followed his grandfather in disgrace, and popped up from behind the angry old man. Seeing the scene in front of him, the little tiger felt like he was going to ascend to heaven.
Satoru grabbed Yayoi's hand, and Yayoi grabbed the hem of her skirt, exposing her fair thighs.
This scene was really hard to miss.
"Yuji, why haven't you gone to school yet?!" Yayoi froze.
D*mn it, they both destined to die today. Not only would a student from Sugisawa High School be late, but a teacher would also be late.
"What school are you going to? Today is the first day of spring break!"
Sister, what were you doing, sister?
· Genuine translation can be found only in OchatimesBlogspotCom, FanFictionNet, and Wattpad
Grandpa Itadori: Who? Who is it? Who wants to steal my baby cabbage?!
Little Tiger: I can't help Gojo-san... D*mn it, what are you doing in there?
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