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I've been the archer, I've been the prey
Screaming, who could ever leave me, darling?
But who could stay?
'Cause they see right through me
They see right through me
Can you see right through me?
Fushiguro Tsumiki knew many things in her life. She listed them off, just to keep it all organized, but on top of those she had priorities. For the first few years it'd just been her and her mother, and then Toji came along and ruined her mother, her life. But along with Toji came Megumi, and meeting Megumi straightened a lot of things in Tsumiki's little brain.
So, she knew things. She had priorities. Her first priority was to always keep Megumi safe, even if it meant she wasn't. Her second priority was to keep herself afloat, so Megumi wasn't left alone. Once upon a time, one of her priorities had been staying by her mother's side, but that string of thought was shattered fairly quickly. And when Satoru came by, looking after him also became a priority.
Growing up fast like that came with wisdom, and knowledge. It came with maturity and needing to be better mentally and physically then anyone else was because who was going to take care of them if she couldn't? Nobody, and that's why she needed to be smart, and wise, and know all these silly things. Tsumiki didn't mind being mature, she didn't mind being the primary caretaker of her six-year-old brother at the age of eight. It was easy, it was how her life worked.
But, despite this maturity and wisdom there was the smallest thing Tsumiki clung onto. The smallest sliver of selfishness, greed, and pride. Anger, and yearning. Something no matter how desperately she wanted to she couldn't let go of. Not in a million years. She knew that at least.
Fushiguro Tsumiki knew that in any world she may be born in, any land she may step on, any change of heart she may have, throughout it all she will forever and always hate her mother.
Throughout her life, Tsumiki had to be the bigger person even when it came to adults. She's more than allowed to hang onto one grudge, one small sliver of hatred. Absolute loathing.
It didn't matter how many times her mother tried to apologize to her, Tsumiki would never accept it. She should just leave her alone, let her be a child in the few years she has left. The year before Satoru talks to her about college, and occupations, and jujutsu. The years before Tsumiki has to accept the fact she hasn't always been a grown-up, just a child in a pair of shoes that were a little too big.
And Tsumiki clung onto this hatred because she knew things. She knew that most mothers didn't marry a man they only knew for three days, she knew that most mothers didn't forget to pay their bills despite having more than enough money to do so, she knew that most mothers brought home food every friday from the grocery store instead of waiting for what little food they had in the house to get moldy enough it rot into the countertops. Most mothers didn't forget their children. Most mothers didn't prefer the cheap drugs they found in alleys to their own kid. Their own daughter.
But that's just it. Tsumiki didn't want to be the daughter of a druggie, or a neglectful woman, or an alcoholic. She wanted to be nobody's daughter. Tsumiki wanted to be her. Detach herself from all these people who'd poisoned her and be able to finally breathe. And she couldn't. No matter how long she lived, or what she did she'd always be the girl who's mother didn't care enough. The girl who's father died. The girl who's step-dad was a murderer. The girl who was taken in by a man with a big heart, but was uncapable of serving the purposes a true parent should.
She couldn't let Megumi be like that. She wouldn't let him be like that.
There were so many things; feelings that were tying her down. It felt like cold clammy hands grasping at her ankles, dragging her through the ice cold water into the deep abyss that was responsibility.
Tsumiki wanted to run. She wanted to run so far, and so hard that her lungs collapsed in on themselves and her knees buckled beneath her. Run away from her family line, her life, the legacy her last name carried.
But it didn’t matter how far Tsumiki ran, or at least wanted to, because she’d always be followed by the shadow of guilt of everything and everyone she left behind to rot.
Megumi would be calling her name, his deep voice would turn into the same shrilly whine it was pitched at when he was little. Then there’d be Satoru. He wouldn’t have to say anything, just look at her with his blue eyes and Tsumiki knew that between the two of them she’d never be able to leave.
She was blessed in her life, but she was also cursed. Cursed to internal torment and turmoil, unsure of who to go to and where she belonged. Wondering, begging, to know why she couldn’t fit in like Megumi could. Why must she always be doomed to the role of the pathetic weak caretaker.
Satoru had once told her that love was both your closest companion and your biggest enemy, your largest weakness and your greatest advantage. He was right, more than right. It made Tsumiki want to scream and get rid of him, Megumi, her parents, the jujutsu world, everything.
But that wouldn’t fix anything.
So, Tsumiki supposed she’s allowed to hang onto that tiny little selfish sliver of hatred she feels towards her mom because there are so many words she could say and so many things she could do but she didn’t. And that made her stronger than most.
It didn’t matter if Gojo Satoru was the strongest sorcerer, or if Fushiguro Megumi was the first wielder of the Ten Shadows Technique in centuries.
Fushiguro Tsumiki would always, always, be stronger than them because she knew better.