Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Time was a fickle thing, you of all people knew that.

A simple unit of measurement that has come to represent experience; a notion that should not be tampered with. Time brings about a myriad of emotions and, sometimes, it seemed difficult to accept. Other times, you refused to accept it at all, choosing instead to rewrite it to your own standards.

Five months ago, you sat across from your then boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, on what you thought was just a normal date. Yes, it was fancier than most of the things the two of you enjoyed, preferring fast food over a lavish night out. Nevertheless, you were glad just to spend time with him, and when he grabbed your hand, dragging you out to the balcony to ask for your hand in marriage, you were the happiest you had ever been. 

You had known him since high school, the beginning of your relationship tumultuous, consisting of petty fights and rivalry. Turning 20 had changed that, the two of you maturing(if you could call Gojo mature), into young adults that had more in common than they had thought. In time you had become the pretentious Jujutsu Tech teacher and his endearing coworker.

Your life wasn’t unfamiliar with loss. In your line of work you had lost many friends, but the last year has taken so many of your loved ones. Despite that, it did nothing to prepare you for losing the man you love. 

You’d give anything to go back to when this all began. Where his persistent, annoying voice was the worst of your concerns. You wished that, in this moment, you could hold onto the belief that he was really ‘The Strongest’.

He had sworn to you with that cheshire grin of his, that in a fight against Sukuna, he’d win.

So why?

Why was this the outcome? How was the Gojo Satoru losing?

He had always had the underlying callous attitude. It had taken root after the events post the Star Plasma Vessel debacle and only grew thicker when Geto had-

Yet, there was some part of him that still held on hope for Megumi Fushiguro, so like a fool he recklessly threw caution to the wind and did his best to try and save him. 

In theory, there was no way that an object could ever reach absolute zero. But now, it certainly felt like the bottom didn’t exist, that this free fall was never coming to an end. It was as if Ryoumen Sukuna had delicately strung you along his spider web of abolition, only to rip its supports from around you, letting you fall into the depths of despair.

The next thing you could see in the chaos around you was the dust and smoke that settled over the ground. You had tried your best, truly, but you were no doubt helpless in this situation.

Your legs had been crushed, upper body just out of harm's way of the building that had fallen on top of you. You knew even if Gojo had won, this likely would’ve ended in your death. But that would’ve been okay.

Selfish or not, your death would’ve been Gojo’s to deal with.

You realized, over your lamenting, that the battlefield had grown quiet. No more yelling, no more cursed techniques, and no more struggle. For a moment, your heart began to spike with hope. There was no laughing. No cruel, imminent danger looming around you.

With a new found purpose, you began to push, your muscles burning, willing your body to move forward even just a few steps. It was as if a fire had set off inside you, sparks cracking to life in the form of your tendons. Everything hurt.

You cried out in frustration, body refusing to cooperate as you fell back to the ground. You couldn't even feel your legs at this point, so even if you could escape, would you be of any use?

“Fuck…” Your voice came out broken and unrecognizable, followed by a series of dry coughs. You had breathed in so much shit your insides ached. You spoke to no one but the voice in your head, your consciousness annoying you to no-end, even now.

With all the strength you had left from your prior attempt, you managed to prop yourself onto a slab of concrete, hand scrambling as you grappled with the steel beam attached to it. If you knew any better, you’d say this used to be a balcony, belonging to some innocent family who had been caught in the struggle. Your hand finally secured around it, a pitiful groan releasing from your throat as you pulled forward, legs sliding from underneath the rubble that caved over you.

Just beyond the wreckage had been where the fight was held, and soon enough, you’d come across the scene again. The thought of being closer to Gojo alone was enough to push you forward, hands clawing at the ground as the uneven ground tore up at your nails. You had gotten them done recently, white flowers now stained red as blood seeped from beneath your nail beds. What a waste of perfectly good money.

You realized that no matter what you did from now on, there would be no way of stopping any more senseless tragedy. Your end seemed to be approaching now at a relaxed pace, in no hurry as he knew you had nowhere else to go.

Ryoumen Sukuna stood a few meters from you in the body of your student, Megumi Fushiguro. If it weren’t for the undeniable reality that you’d never see Gojo again if you didn’t do something, you’re sure this would've broken your heart. The sadness that flooded your senses wasn’t enough to quell the pure, unadulterated hatred you held in your heart.

Your students seemed to be a weak point for you, and it had been exploited on this battlefront, time and time again. The thought of Sukuna’s demonic, barbaric heart corrupting the soul of poor Megumi was enough to freeze you where you stood.

A little bit past him laid the body of your fiance, the center of your universe as you knew it. There laid Gojo Satoru, or—for lack of a better term, Gojo’s bisected corpse. His torso was separated from his legs, black shirt slacked against his stilled chest. But even in death, he was beautiful. His pristine blue eyes stared wildly at the sky, as if the gates of heaven had opened for him to greet him with an angelic chorus.

Your lips trembled, eyes widening so far you’re sure they’d pop out of your head. Your ears rang with blood rushing through them, deafening you to all other sounds except for Sukuna’s steady footfalls. The excruciating pain of blinding yourself would be a better experience, than to sit and cry like a baby as your fiance bled out hopelessly in front of you. You looked up in a daze as you saw that Sukuna was now only a short distance away.

Your eyes screwed shut, the bones in your legs cracking as you forced yourself to stand, trembling in their wake. You wobbled, stumbling forward as you slid down the side of the crater, rolling onto your back as your leg was pulled out from beneath you.

“You know, I thought you’d be one of the first to die. Sobbing like a bitch as I forced Gojo to watch you choke.”

Those words struck you to your core, eyes snapping up to take in the sneering expression of the bastard hovering over you.

“You’re stronger than I gave you credit for, Obinata Y/N.” He spoke your name like a curse, like your very existence was a mockery to the world. He pulled back, pivoting on his foot as his hands rested in his pockets. “But not strong enough.”

You yelled something, but it came out incoherent. An inhuman noise left your throat as you reached out, hand wrapping around Sukuna’s ankle. “Megumi…! Fushi-” You tried in vain to get through to him, desperately calling his name.

“Oh, him?” Sukuna sneered. “He’s given up, woman.” The glare he threw back your way was enough to silence your wails, his movement coming to a stop. “And so should you.”

The next thing you knew, your voice crescendoed into an animalistic howl, Sukuna’s foot coming down to crush your hand, fingers shattering underneath his weight. With as much energy you could muster, you tried to use your ability.

Gasping, you found yourself flat on your back again. Your lungs contracted, desperate for air, ribs refusing to loosen around your diaphragm. You pushed yourself up and held back a sob as you saw Sukuna back to where he was only seconds ago.

“You can’t be serious, you really lost against that guy?” Gojo’s voice rattled in the back of your head, nothing but black spots interrupting your vision. “Man, if only I was there to see your face!”

Life was simple when you were young. When Geto was still alive, your class of four would all have weekly game nights. Gojo would inevitably cheat everytime, just to get a rise out of Shoko. Then, as if Yaga-sensei could sense the rising tension, he would come in to yell at your group to ‘go the hell to sleep’. Gojo would drag Geto off, the two of them laughing wildly as you and Shoko would be stuck with clean-up.

Two pairs of hands grabbed you by the waist, pulling you to their sides, squishing you between them as Shoko squatted in the front, throwing up a peace sign. You tried to resist a grin but failed as Gojo had joked, “Everyone say, ‘Yaga smells!’” Only to get smacked in the back of the head by the man himself, standing to his left.

If only you were there instead.

Sukuna looked at you, a breath escaping his lips as he took in the change. You had moved him back. Most enemies wouldn’t have any awareness of your abilities. When you reversed time, you reversed the minds of others with it. Most had been ignorant to the manipulation of time, but not the King Of Curses.

His eyes narrowed in thin slits, pupils dilating into black holes, sucking in the light around you like a vacuum. You watched as his veins pulsated, creating a map of fury across his skin. The corners of his mouth had twisted downward, pulling themselves into a thin, unforgiving line.

“I’ll humor you.” He spoke, before his shoulders pulled forward, muscles taut, readying himself to launch towards you. He had every intent to murder you now, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun while he did it.

Racing forward at unimaginable speed, his fist collided with your face. You flew back, a pathetic yelp cracking from your lips as you rolled violently across the ground. As you looked up, he was there. Your eyes widened at the close proximity, and you could feel as if time slowed. His fist was reeled back, cursed energy imbued into his punch. You managed to roll out of the way in time to see the ground split open where you just had been. Holy shit.

“Having fun yet?” He taunted, head abruptly twisting to stare at you. He straightened up, walking closer.

The scene glitched before him, and he blinked– hoping to see through the rewind, he focused intently. To no avail, he was brought back to yet another passing moment.

Now, he was still above you, but you had already predicted his movements. As his fist shot downwards, you snaked yourself in between his legs, choosing to forego your previous action of rolling out of the way.

He let out a growl, and it quickly turned into a groan of annoyance as the back of his knee was kicked in. He kneeled forward, Megumi’s body not as physically strong as he’d hoped it would be. Of course, the boy was only 15.

By the time he had turned to face you, you were gone. Using the moment of surprise, you had made a last ditch effort to get to Gojo.
He was there before you could get any further, the sheer force of his movement sending you skidding backwards.

“Get out of my way.” You don’t know what force compelled you to say that, but the words flew out without a second thought. Your breath staggered, one of your eyes twitching to a close, blood from your previous injuries running down your head. It coated your eyelashes, the sickly sweet, metallic scent filling your nostrils.

“This is starting to annoy me, girl.” He uttered darkly.

“Yeah?” Your lips pulled up into a smile. Hell, if you were going to die, might as well die smiling. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“How long can you keep this up? I could just kill you, you know.” He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t just grabbed you, knowing you weren’t putting up much of a fight before. He could’ve saved himself the time.

What a glorious curse time was.

“You’d have to catch me first, bastard.” Your hand came up to wipe the blood that dribbled down your chin.

“Is that a challenge?” His eyes piqued up in interest, hands clutched at his sides.

You sneered. “It’s a suggestion.”

Though Sukuna was an unbelievably strong fighter (considering he defeated Gojo minutes before), he was predictable in his aggressive fighting technique. Every hit he landed, you threw back two. It was an exhausting game, and you knew eventually you’d never make it out alive if it continued this way.

In your youth, despite your rocky relationship in high school, Gojo had given you a necklace. The silver chain was beautiful on its own, but the main star of the show was the hourglass attached to it. It was small, but completely functional. While the gesture seemed innocent, it had rooted a deep sense of belonging within you– and this necklace, which you still wore to this day, contained an abundance of your cursed energy.

To be rightfully honest with yourself, you didn’t know what you had been storing it for. Now, it all made sense. Time and Fate walked a thin line together, and this was just meant to be.

You grew up in a “righteous” clan. The kind that thought they were too good to use their power for the greater good. You were taught to never interfere with the natural order of things. To “allow nature to take its course”. Originally, you were able to hold fast to those ideals, truly believing the weight of them. But like all weight, it accumulated, growing more and more burdensome on your shoulders. As the years flew by, you felt like you could understand your brother.

Ichiro may have been a criminal, but what drove him to that point was the same exact feeling you were experiencing now. Despair. The realization that no matter how strong you may be, you are unable to control the events of life around you.

The tussle between the two of you lasted only a while longer, as you eventually succumbed to the exhaustion of your ability and the previous wounds you had gained before.

With whatever strength you had left, you had made it to Satoru’s side, grabbing ahold of his hand. Your fingers curled into his own, flinching slightly at the cold blood that graced his fingertips.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do better.”

With that, you shut your eyes tight, hand coming up to cradle the necklace that laid across your neck. You could sense that all the sand had pooled into the bottom of the glass. Human existence was a fleeting thing, and it seemed that the sands of time had finally run out for you.

“Isn’t this a touching scene?” Sukuna's voice was back again to mock you.

“...” You had no response, no petty comment to throw his way.

“It seems you’re all out of cursed energy. I would’ve expected one more attempt from you to set things right.” He was taunting you. His sick laughter carried in the wind, the very being of it seeping into your clothes, your skin, and your soul. “If you were strong enough, all of this could’ve been avoided.”

All of this could’ve been avoided?

“I’ll do you a favor, since you’ve been so patient. It’s the least I could do.” He squatted down next to your body, knee digging into your back. In response, a sharp pain shot up your spine and into the back of your head. “I’ll give you a merciful death.”

Your hand tightened its hold around your necklace, throwing him a glare as you stared up at him. Your neck strained, a harsh breath releasing from your mouth as you croaked out your best response. “Not before… I...”

“You what?”

Your eyes slid shut as you poured every ounce of energy you had left, even if it meant a few spare minutes. “Fix everything.”

Before his hand could reach you to ultimately put an end to your life, the hourglass you held tightly in your hand shattered, and everything went black.

For a short moment, you felt at peace. Like the clouds had parted, and like giant wings, the sun wrapped around you. Reminiscent of your highschool days, you remembered your seat being directly by the window, victim to the sun if it ever chose to shine. You always had a habit of falling asleep at your desk after class, and without fail, Gojo would–

Instantly you felt hands pinching your sides, causing you to yelp and snap awake, sitting up straight in your seat and blinking your blurry eyes as you oriented yourself.

“Oyaaa! And here I thought you were gonna sleep here until morning!” Someone spoke loudly in your ear, hand coming up to ruffle your hair, the other pressing you back into the desk.

Offended, you scoffed and turned to make a snide remark, but what you saw made you freeze in your tracks. He was in his school uniform, sunglasses perched low on his nose, his bright blue irises swirling in curiosity as he awaited your response. “Satoru?”

He faltered for a moment. “Oh? We’re on a first name basis now? How naughty!”

Tears slipped down your cheeks before you could stop them. Blindly, you reached out to grab his hand and pull him to you, an attempt to hold him close. He jerked back as quickly as you came forward, limitless stopping whatever feeble contact you tried to make. Now, sobs choked out of you, unbidden, and you fell forward with your head in your hands.

“Uuuuuumm?” You felt Gojo shake your shoulders, genuine concern spreading across his face. It was a new look for him. “You okay in there?” He waved his hand in front of your pained expression, as if that would do anything to break you from your episode.

Covering your eyes, you manage to get out a quiet, “I’m fine,” but your voice broke on the second syllable. You cleared your throat. “It was just a nightmare.” A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad nightmare.

He looked serious for once. It was strange to see his teenage face making such an expression. “How about I grab Shoko?”

You shook your head. “Could you just stay here for a bit?”

You watched his feet as he hesitated, considering your words, before throwing himself down onto the chair next to you and propping his legs up on the desk. “Do you feel like talking about it?”

“Not really.” You breathed out, head leaning back to stare at the ceiling. The sun hit your face, eyes squinting shut as you felt your tears dry. You were sure that soon enough, rheum would begin to form around your eyes.

He snorted in disbelief. “Well, I had a good dream last night, wanna hear about that?”

You nodded.

“Well, last night I dreamt that me and Suguru had gone out for karaoke, BUT,” He put grave emphasis on the ‘but’. “There was a buncha guys holding up the line, and they turned out to be curses! So we had to have like– a 2 v 2 singing battle and the loser had to buy everyone taiyaki!” He slung two peace signs into the air, feet lifting slightly off the desk just to slam back down onto it. “Just so you know, I totally crushed it.” He snickered under his breath.

“Suguru definitely missed some notes, but with the power of these pipes? We took first place. And you know what they ended up buying us? Not taiyaki, that's for damn sure-! Those losers ended up stealing Suguru’s wallet and spent all of it on arcade games and gacha figurines! And not even the cool ones. You should’ve seen Suguru’s face! He looked so mad!” He giggled, hand coming down to hold his chin.

“And then we chased 'em’ down and got the wallet back, but the damage was done. So I went and bought us both hats.” He was still going. How did he remember all of this? “The only ones that were available were sun hats- like, the super girly ones with the flower and all, but I still rocked it. It was that shade of yellow that washes me out, which sucked, but my beauty can’t be hindered by something like color theory, yanno?”

You couldn’t resist huffing a laugh. “Is the only thing you talk about yourself?”

“Well, I am the best subject of any conversation.”

You rolled your eyes and turned away from him. It had always been like this when you were students together at Jujutsu Tech, arguing back and forth with the occasional competition.

If this was heaven, then this wouldn’t be so bad.

A voice startled you out of your nostalgia. “Gojo, did you complete that assignment I asked about?”

Principal Yaga?

“Yeah, yeah, I have it right here,” You watched as his pale hand reached up to pass the papers in, momentarily shocking you.

“Wait, can I see that really fast?”

“Oh, you are not cheating off of me,” he scoffed.

“Are you serious? I already turned it in, so give it here.” To be honest, you had no idea what the assignment was, you just needed confirmation.

“Whatever,” He rolled his eyes. “At least you stopped crying like a baby.”

You stuck your tongue out as you read the paper. No doubt this was an exact copy of an assignment that you had from when you were in high school. What kind of after life was this? Making you relive everything right down to every exam?

Unless–

You stood up quickly, grabbing your bag while you hit Gojo in the face with the papers, though limitless stopped you before you made contact. “I gotta go.”

“Rude?!” He gasped, exaggerating greatly as he sat up in his chair, feet swinging off of the desk.

“Oh! You’re so right– excuse me,” You turned to your teacher, a small smile forming on your face. “Yaga-sensei, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Have a good afternoon!”

“You as well, Obinata.” He sounded so young, so… carefree. Just like you remembered. Compared to the life you lived in before, this Yaga was no more, he had died by execution. Your beloved teacher, your caring principal, and your loyal friend. Just hearing your name fall from his lips was enough to calm you.

As you rushed out of the classroom, slamming the sliding door wide open, you could hear Gojo make an affronted noise. You left the room, but stepped back to peek your head around the door frame, grinning cheekily. “Bye-bye Gojo, I'll see you tomorrow. Thank you for– you know-”

Running down the hall, you could just barely hear him shout back, “Bye!”, followed by an even quieter, “she’s so weird”.The date on the paper read, “April 28th, 2006”.

12 years ago.

Time was such a fickle thing, was it not?

Chapter Text

Clans were a major part of the Jujutsu World, making up its entire social system. 

High ranking families would produce heirs, passing down their cursed techniques for generations, which was how you were born. They were treated like royalty in the jujutsu world, though you felt that this only served to stroke their egos. 

Being a part of one of these clans was an even bigger deal, but your family name had long been scorned by drama and tragedy.

The Obinata Clan was the blueprint for pretentious success. Before the Kamo Clan came to rise, it was your family alongside the Zenin and Gojo Clans. Almost entirely untouchable. The Big Three, a term used rather loosely to describe your clans, had extreme influence and power when it came to political movements. They were feared, but respected. 

Clans, like the Zenin, relied purely on their raw strength, using their Ten Shadows technique to tear down any threat that approached them. Your parents, to your recollection at least, labeled them as evil, so interacting with them was entirely unacceptable. Clans, like the Gojo, who reserved themselves into security, had things to hide. They were untrustworthy. 

Unlike those two, the Obinata clan were ancient time-weavers, monks who lived privately up in the Aino Mountains. You grew up never having to step foot in the city, your family close, but your sense of tradition kept even closer. You hadn’t worn “real”, modern clothes until you stepped foot at Jujutsu Tech. 

Like every clan, the Obinata had something that made them stick out, a dual technique centered around the function of time. Of your generation, two children had been born who possessed either side of this technique. You and your older brother, Ichiro. 

You obtained the Rewind Technique: Pendulum Negative. An ability that allows the user to go back in time to any point, as long as you can pin exactly where you need to land. As of now, or, before you came back to the year 2006, you mainly used your ability to rewind in short distances, only using it to correct small mishaps, or use it to your advantage to beat someone in a fight. You had never really made jumps like this, going back over a decade, and to be honest.. You didn't even know if you had meant too. 

While you inherited the left side of the pendulum, your brother inherited the right. 

Pendulum Positive allowed the user to skip forward in time, pausing those around them before ripping people back into reality. From what you remembered of your brother, he was a caring soul. You had no idea he’d be capable of such bloodthirst and hatred. It wasn’t something you could think of now, seeing as you didn’t remember much to begin with. You were only eight when it happened. 

All that mattered is that now, the Obinata clan, besides you, your grandmother, and a distant cousin, had all been mercilessly slaughtered. Thus, bringing an end to your family's reign among the top clans. Not that you had much to complain about, you hardly ever knew them.

With your newfound purpose in mind, you took the time back at school to do some reflecting. If you were back at the start of your second year, your cursed technique must have sent you back before the events of Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru’s mission gone-wrong. The context of which centered around the safety of a girl named Riko Amanai. With this in mind, your statement, “fix everything”, must have checked off the necessities for your cursed technique, landing you here.

Now all you had to do was remember every single thing that went wrong in your life leading to Gojo’s demise. That seemed totally feasible, right? And you weren’t talking about flunking your tests, or the small embarrassing moments you wish you could take back. Guess what? You’ll have to relive those too. But no, you were talking about the batshit, horrific fights that lead to the death of some of your closest friends. 

You groaned, head thrown back as you mercilessly clicked the mouse of your computer. One thing you did not miss from your past was the shitty excuse for technology, and the sketchy workings of the internet. You had scanned online for hours, trying to pinpoint events that had taken place in the news to better ground yourself with this timeline. One being the succeeding of Japan’s Prime Minister, Junichiro Koizumi. Not that it really mattered, or concerned you, it was a helpful landmark to keep in mind.

Where you were at now, concerning your relationship with your classmates, was the hard part. You and Gojo didn’t start out as allies, in fact, you were the exact opposite. Having both come from rival families, there was a bit of animosity between the two of you. Of course, saying you hated each other seemed a bit harsh, and frankly, you don't think you had a bone in your body that could truly hate Satoru Gojo. You two were adversaries, always nagging at each other, always finding something smart to say when the other slipped up. 

Shoko Ieiri, on the other hand, was your best friend! Consider it fate that the world decided to prioritize girl power, you weren’t complaining, seeing as the two of you had taken one glance at each other on your first day, and declared to the world you were best friends! 

Ever so the enigma, you can't say you were close to Suguru Geto at all. You would say the two of you were on better terms compared to your relationship with Gojo, but he seemed to stay out of your way completely. That would have to change, now that you were aware of your classmates deteriorating mental state and jaded belief in the Jujutsu World. 

Honestly, you felt like you were a part of one big story, being sent back to redo people’s wrongs and set things right, but thinking like that was just silly. One wrong move and you could alter the timeline horrifically, changing the course of events as you knew it, meaning you’d have no clue of what was coming next. 

You knew one thing though, and that was the looming threat that soon enough, Gojo and Geto would run headfirst into a mission they weren’t prepared for, and create the rift that led to your timeline's demise.

You had to stop Toji Fushiguro from killing Riko Amanai. 

It sounded much easier in your head. ‘Yes, just infiltrate Gojo and Geto’s friendship and insert yourself into it!’. Simple enough right? This new life of yours was going to be spent reliving the past, but you weren’t going to allow it to have the same ending.

It was almost exciting, but the threat of your past mistakes hovered over you like a shadow in the night. Yes, perhaps you couldn’t see them, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t still there. It was a reminder now. 

You had a few weeks before this first event took place, so you were going to use every ounce of time to your advantage. Over time you had really learned to flesh out your technique, but what really solidified you as a First Grade sorcerer in your time, was your unbelievable physical prowess and cursed weapon cultivation. 

So now, you had to start near the beginning of your training, and that meant the same for your physical form as well. You had been trained as a child, but due to the incident which resulted in your clan's extinction, you had only learned so much. You were going to have to relearn your clan’s fighting techniques, but you were sure your memory would prevail and set you down the right path.

It wasn’t long before a knock sounded at your door, snapping you from your stupor at your desk. You had created a list of things, scribbles of details that wouldn’t make sense to anyone else. Knowing that, you quickly slammed it into your drawer, throwing yourself off of your chair and towards the door.

“Who is it?” You called, your voice softer than you remembered. 

“Who do you think?” His tone carried through the door, his cadence enough to stop you in your tracks. For some weird reason he decided to grace you with his presence.

Your hand wrapped around the door knob, your wrist turning with it as the door opened.

“Gojo?”

“What, no Satoru today?” He smirked, arm leaning against the doorway as he peered down at you. “I see how it is. A one time thing and we’re already back to being strangers. You wound me, Obinata.” He joked, your last name drawing out of his mouth like a purr. 

“It was an accident. Just a slip of the tongue.” You couldn’t act too differently, it would raise suspicion. You thought about it last night. What would happen if you told them about their future? At first, it seemed like a plausible thing to do, but it made you realize that by doing so, you could completely ruin the flow of fate as you know it, or, they could choose not to believe you. 

You came to the conclusion that simply manipulating the situation to the best of your ability was the way to go, so it was wise to play along.

“It won't happen again, Gojo.”

“Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, didn’t they?” He shook his head dismissively, a near laugh riding his tone. He found your attitude amusing.

“Why are you here?”

“Can’t I just be worried for the sake of my very best rival?” He pouted, coming to push off the side of your doorframe. “You think so low of me!” He whined. “Your little episode in class yesterday totally wigged me out, so I came to see how our little cry baby was fairing this morning.”

“I’m fine. I told you, it was just a bad nightmare.”

“Hmph. One that included me, right?” Shit. He was right.

Your face heated up, flustered as you had been caught already. Of course, this ‘nightmare’ wasn’t really a nightmare at all, it had been real life. He just hadn’t known that, and hopefully he never would. “I never said that-”

“You didn’t need to. Your reaction yesterday gave it away.” He snickered, arms crossed. “And so what I want to know is, how long have you been dreaming about me?”

“Trust me, Gojo, it was a nightmare because you were in it, let's make that clear.” You quipped, quick witted to the bone. That was always one of your favorite things about you and Gojo’s dynamic, and thankfully, it hadn’t changed. 

“Ohohoh, nice try, I almost felt that one.”

“You? Feel? Give me a break.” You moved to shut the door, eyes turning back towards your room, but the door never closed.

Gojo’s foot planted itself in front of the frame, keeping it open. 

“Obinataaaa–” So he did want something. 

“What do you want?” The door creaked open again.

“Besides the fact that I totally came to check up on you and not talk about something completely unrelated,” He started, that sly smile filtering through his expression. “Yaga paired us up for a mission in the next couple of days. Of course, you wouldn’t know that, considering you slept half of class yesterday–”

“No need to remind me, Gojo. Get to the important part.”

“Oh, it’s not a big deal, afterall with me there I doubt you’ll even have to show up.” His confidence was annoying as it was attractive. 

“Right. Okay. So, what are the details?”

“Something about a semi-first grade curse haunting a casino, some boring stuff, yadda yadda- exorcize, y'know… the usual.” He flung a hand around in circular motions as he talked. He didn’t seem too excited, but you were. 

This was right. You remembered going on this mission with him. You also remembered how he pulled you into a gambling round at the casino, and cheated, taking all the cash you had on you that night. Normally you weren’t such a stickler for money, your clan leaving behind a heavy amount somewhere in your grandmother’s name. But, to your misfortune, this left you with no way to buy food that night, ending with you indebted to him as he offered to pay for your food with the money he had stolen from you. 

“Sounds more like an excuse for you to gamble.” You muttered under your breath.

“Hah, me? You’re so funny, Obiiii-chan.” A nickname. That was new. “We all know you’re the one with money problems.”

Your jaw dropped, dumbfounded at the jab he threw at you. “I- you- you asshole-!?” You fumbled with the right words to say, caught off guard.

He laughed, pivoting on his foot as he turned away from you. “Yeah, yeah…” He waved you off, face turning to the side so he could glance back at you. Lifting his glasses, he winked your way, letting them fall back over his nose. “I’ll see ya later, ‘kay, Obi-chan? Try not to sleep yourself away!”

You sputtered, face flushing slightly at his dismissive, disrespectful behavior. He was the very definition of a teenage boy.

Going back to your desk, you looked at your calendar again. Today was a saturday, meaning you had two days until you and Gojo’s mission. Now was a good time as ever to get started on fine tuning your technique, knowing you had a long way to go before you caught up to your original strength. 

With determined morale, you found yourself leaving the dorm building, long abandoning your pajamas and shitty computer to wait for you to return later. Walking around campus, you passed various training grounds, faculty, and other students. You approached the large gym, glass panels adorning the walls, giving you the faintest silhouette of what you could make out to be your fellow classmates.

Upon entering the blissfully air-conditioned room, you saw Shoko on the elliptical and Geto using the chest press. His arms flexing front and back, front and back. Jesus Christ, was he always that hot? He should be a scrawny teen at this point like Gojo was. Thinking back on it, the majority of your high school memories included Gojo, but the ones with Geto had been overshadowed with what had happened in your senior year. 

But now, faced with his muscular arms, you couldn’t help but have an appreciation for the machine letting you have this view– Woah, let's backtrack, reel it in. That was not why you were here. 

“Y/N?” Shoko called out, amusement evident in her tone. “Do you see something?”

You felt your ears burn as you looked toward your friend, who was giving you a knowing smirk. 

As you scrambled for something to say, you heard a low chuckle from Geto and coughed into your hand to relieve the awkward tension, briskly walking over to the treadmill machine next to Shoko. 

“What’s got you in a tizzy this morning? You’ve had too much skinny vanilla, so you had to switch to espresso?” 

Shooting her a glare, the machine began to move, gaining speed at each step you took. “I’ll have you know I’m not in the mood for coffee this morning, but I’d like a cup of tea if you’re up for it?”

You and Shoko had developed a plethora of code words as you became friends in your first year, but most of them were just drink names. Yaga was black coffee, Nanami macchiato, and Haibara oolong. Tea is the word that you guys developed for when you wanted to gossip. 

The weights of Geto machines clanked as he let the bars go. “I could go for tea today.”

Ah, so he’s inviting himself. You both share a meaningful look as you consider Geto’s words, not wanting him to sit in on what could very well be girl-talk about him, or worse, Gojo. As Shoko went to reject him, you cut her off. “Yeah, how about you come?”

Shoko gave you a betrayed look, surely thinking of some wise words she could crack to embarrass you, but you could afford to not be one on one with her at this time. Not because you didn’t love gossiping, but you had no idea what had happened within the last two weeks due to your sudden arrival, so your cover would be blown in an instant. 

You turn slightly when you don’t hear a response from Geto, only to find him a short distance away from you, using a towel around his neck to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He gave you a close-lipped smile, “Okay, I’ll go take a shower and meet back with you in 30.” before turning away from you. 

“Hey!” Shoko called out to him, stopping him momentarily in his tracks. “No Gojo.”

For a moment he faltered, looking like he wanted to argue, but stopped himself. “Ok, fine.”

Oh, he was going to bring Gojo, no doubt.

As you heard the door to the men's locker room shut, you whipped your head to look at Shoko, “I’m sorry–” 

She slowed herself on the machine, raising an eyebrow at you, “Don’t like espresso, huh?”

“Shoko–” Before you could explain yourself, she reached over and quickly increased the speed on your treadmill, causing you to have to break into a sprint. 

“Do that for 10 minutes and maybe I’ll forgive you,” She laughed as she stepped off the elliptical to switch to the weights. 

Your feet take off below you to save yourself from falling face forward. “I’ll make that 20!” 

“So I was out shopping last week with Utahime and Meimei, right? And Meimei would not get off her phone, which like- rude. You’re out with friends, at least try to pretend you like hanging around us.” Shoko scoffed, bringing her drink to her lips. 

You sipped from your chai as you shook your head, “That's so rude.”

“Right? And I was feeling nosy so I leaned over and she’s texting some english guy? And you know me, I'm horrible at that subject.”

Geto made a noise of assent as he rolled his eyes. 

“I started bugging Uta-chan cause she’s like an A plus student or whatever and her face turned so red. She wouldn’t tell me for like, two stores. Bad english grade or not, I’m not stupid– I knew something was up.”

“For sure, yeah,” you tucked your hair behind your ear. “Meimei is shady as hell.”

“Oh, totally,” Geto said, distracted as he clicked silently at his flip phone. He sat across from you, Shoko at his side. 

Shoko set down her matcha in a grand fashion, speaking quietly so the neighboring tables wouldn’t hear, “It was a sugar daddy. ”

“Oh my god!”

“Oh noooooo.” Geto abrasively sighed. 

“Right! I mean no one just owns Gucci, but sending those kinds of messages?” She shook her head.

You took another sip of your drink, humming as you thought about it. “You know, I low-key respect the grind.”

Shoko made a confused face, “What?”

Wrong lingo! Backtrack, this is 2006! You moved your hands wildly, searching for a way to explain yourself. “You know– like I kinda respect her hard work?”

Geto raised his eyebrows at you. “So grinding is hard work?”

Shoko sputtered out half of the drink in her mouth, simultaneously choking and laughing.

You felt your face grow hot and go to cover it with your hands. “Oh my god, no! Like–”

“Yeah?” Shoko smirked at you.

“Like in this day and age, having someone pay for your stuff would be nice, right?” You cleared your throat and picked your drink back up. 

Shoko nodded, “Yeah, I get that, my parents stopped paying for me when they learned about how much the school gives us per year.”

You laugh. “Girl, my parents stopped paying for me when they stopped breathing.”

The both of you erupted into a flurry of giggles, while Geto stared at you in shock. “Huh?”

Did he not know? You thought your family history was common knowledge at this point. “Like, you know, when they died?”

Still confused, he looked like he decided to drop the subject, choosing instead to nod his head in a show of understanding. “Oh, yeah.”

You heard a thunk from beneath the table and judging by Geto’s look of pain, Shoko had just kicked him in the shin.  

“Anyways, did Meimei even buy anything?”

“No! You know that penny pincher just invests it into stocks or whatever.”

While the two of you continued to gossip, Geto subtly looked at his phone under the table, typing out a very detailed SOS message.

It read:
‘(Pinned Location). Strange turn of events, I need a break and Y/N needs a sugar daddy. Calling reinforcements. I’ll buy you a coffee.’

15 minutes of silly gossip later and Geto started to resemble a look of pure hopelessness, much like the one from your senior year, when y’know… he killed a bunch of people. So, being the amazing person that you were, you decided to turn the conversation to something he could relate to. 

“So… seen any sports games recently?” Why did it feel like the equivalent of asking how the weather was? You quickly realized you did not have many conversations with him the first time around. What did teenage boys even talk about?

He grimaced, opening his mouth to reply, but it was quickly taken back, his expression pulling into a grin as you heard the cafe door open. “I really like baseball.”

Shoko scoffed at him, and you watched as her face dropped to one of horror as she spotted who’d just walked in. She kicked you, and you replied with a yelp, only to look at her in betrayal. She kicked you again, realizing you didn’t get the signal the first time. 

Confused, you did an awkward hair flip to look behind you. Your eyes matched a familiar pair of bright blue orbs, their sunglasses long forgotten as they were placed against his forehead. You were making eye contact with Gojo himself, meaning, your dear Geto had ratted out your location. Affronted, you scowled at Geto, who in response only gave you an awkward smile. 

“You didn’t.”

“What are the chances?” Geto traced the edge of his coffee cup with his finger, obviously feigning ignorance. 

Shoko turned her upper body towards him and folded her arms. “Yeah, what are the chances?”

You feel yourself pushed into the window as Gojo throws down his bags, filled with an assortment of pastries, on the table in front of him. “Whatcha talking about? I love gossip.”

“Just how many sweets do you need? You’re gonna give yourself diabetes.” You chastised, smirking to yourself for the insult. 

“Oh, but the only thing that’ll give me diabetes is that smile of yours,” With that, he reached out his hand and pinched your cheek. 

“God, you’re both gonna give me cavities,” Shoko groaned. “Geto, go buy us another drink.”

“Wooooow!” Gojo gasped. “Shoko, I thought your vice was smoking, you’re picking up alcohol, too?” 

Geto placed a hand on his chest in a show of self-defense, “I think the one who needs to be buying is Mr. Capitalist over here. He’s the real sugar daddy.”

“Yeah, Y/N, ask your man to buy us drinks if he’s gonna be interrupting our talk, hell it’s the least you could do after this guy already came along,” She waved her hand in Geto’s direction.

You bare your teeth at Gojo and push him (as much as you could with that stupid barrier around him) so that you could get out of the booth and stand up. “No, Shoko, I’ll buy us drinks. Another matcha?”

She nodded her head once. 

With the confidence of a runway model, you strut to the register and place your order, thrusting your card into the very tired and very overworked barista’s hand. He swiped it once, made a face of disbelief, then swiped again. “Ma’am?”

“Yes?”

“Your card declined.”

The noise you made was pathetic. Akin to a strangled “E-eh?”, you stuttered, staring blankly at the machine in front of you. You had the mind to break it right there. You looked at him in shock and your cheeks flared. You didn’t even have 8 dollars in your bank account?

A loud braying laugh reached your ears and you turned to scowl at Gojo, your fingers ripping the card from the poor barista’s hand. You stared at it, and made a split second decision, before your card cut through the air, slicing the tension like a knife. It spiraled forward, heading straight towards his face with great precision. With the force that you had put into the throw, it managed to lodge itself into his Limitless temporarily, an evident crack in his barrier, before falling down into his hand. 

Gojo stood up and walked over to you, proudly giving the barista his card instead, leaning on the counter to look you in the eyes over the rim of his sunglasses, that had now fallen over the crest of his nose. “Don’t worry, babe, I got this.”

The barista stared at the two of you in distaste before swiping the card, begrudgingly handing it back to him. “Um, I’ll have those right out.” 

Your money situation was difficult to explain, considering you came from a wealthy, dead family. You’d think their life insurance would pull through, right? Weeeell, yes, but considering you’re not the eldest, surviving member of the Obinata clan, the money was put into your grandmother's account. Granny Obinata was a feisty old woman, but she meant the best for you. Of course, with her age and her traditional standards, putting money in and out of accounts was not her forte, so you opted to not ask her for monetary support at all. 

Regarding the money that the school provided, however, was a different story.

Along with your grandma, the only other surviving member of your clan was in the form of a small child. Your cousin, Kaoru, was an awkward kid who had zero interaction with the outside world. Due to their life revolving around the women around them, they grew to be very effeminate, wearing traditional robes that didn’t necessarily fit into the binary. Because of the rift that separated them from the outside world, you had used your money to buy Kaoru things to make up for it.  

At the thought of your desperate need for monetary advice, you remembered some odd detail from your first life. Wasn’t Toji Fushiguro just as money hungry as Meimei, if not worse? And since he was an assassin for hire, maybe you could convince him to protect Riko instead. For the right price, of course. 

“Gojo, just how much money does your family have?” You asked, out of the blue. Normally such a question would be viewed as disrespectful.

Smiling, he stood up to his full height and gestured with his finger for you to lean in. 

Shortly after, you stared at him in shock, mouth slightly ajar. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” He says, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word. 

So maybe you do need a sugar daddy. 

Two days passed, and here you were, standing in front of an abandoned casino with your companion whistling some awful tune next to you. 

“Hey, Gojo,” You started. “How about we make a wager?”

“Oh, yeah? The scene inspiring you or something?” 

You hum in assent, “How about… 30 million yen?” 

Gojo goes still as he considered your words, “Sugar babe, that’s not much to me, but what makes you greedy like that?” 

A smile played on your lips, “The scene and all.” 

Turning towards you, he lowered his glasses and connected those beautiful blues with yours, “You realize if you lose, you’re gonna be in debt 30 mill to me, right?”

“Okay,” You stuck your hand out for him to shake. “Double it or nothing, then.”

Chapter Text

The two of you approached the abandoned casino with little to no urgency. It wasn’t like you were itching to get inside, the mere look of the place was enough to make you want to take a shower. It reeked of cursed energy, or maybe, it was the faint smell of cigarette smoke that clouded your judgment.

“God, it smells like twelve Shoko’s have been in here; the tobacco is too much,” Gojo made a show of pinching his nose in distaste.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t be such a baby about this.”

His eyebrows shot up in interest, “So I’m the baby now?” 

Choosing to ignore him, you walked through the main lobby and into the main part of the casino, knocking out small curses as you went. Their bodies cried out in response, sick cracking noises protruding the air as your knife sliced into them, one by one. The curse you were after, however, was reported to be semi-first grade. As to why they felt the need to send both you and Gojo on this mission, the reasoning was unclear. 

“Boo, this is lame,” Gojo whined. “Where’s the action?” His voice carried throughout the facility, bouncing off the walls and into small empty rooms. Machines and all sorts of games covered the floor, organized against the walls. It was a gamblers sex dungeon down here, except, there were no gamblers.. and there were no bitches.

In the distance you could hear the sound of slot machines constantly spinning, so you chose to go in that direction. When you reached your destination, you found that they weren’t running at all, laying eerily still. 

You shrugged your shoulders and reached up to pull the lever down, the wheels spinning and creaking before coming to a stop. Your results had been: ‘eye-cherry-7.’

Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you spin again. ‘cherry-eye-cherry.’ 

“Oh, come on.” Was your luck really this bad? 

With more force than necessary, you pull the lever down once more. It took longer this time, the agonizingly loud screeching of gears eventually coming to a pause. The machine had finally given you a match.

‘Eye-eye-eye.’

The eyes along the slot machine blinked at you.

You blinked back. 

In a fluid motion, the machine lurched towards you, then back again, raising itself on the ground as two slimy legs came out from under it, tiny arms emerging from the money slot and reaching toward you. 

You leapt back in surprise, but you were caught off guard as another curse slammed into you from the side. You staggered, the old, moldy carpet ripping up in chunks at the friction caused by your shoes. These were higher level curses now, probably around second grade. As of now, this body of yours was likely around the second-grade sorcerer level, so these were just the right match for you.

The knife in your hand glinted dangerously, twisting with the flick of your wrist. You slung your arm back before throwing the knife out of your grip, the butterfly blade whipping forward as it sliced through the air. It stabbed into the curse, it’s slot-machine like body reeling back as it snarled. You snapped your fingers, cursed technique sparking to life as the knife returned back in your hand, the injury you gave the curse still seeping black ooze. You smirked dangerously, before pivoting on your right foot just in time to deflect an attack from the other spirit. 

Before you could do anything else, a flash of blue sparked from in front of you, and the curses deteriorated in a split second. 

“Daddy’s home.” Gojo grinned, his finger in the form of a gun, having just funneled his attack through it. “Can’t let you have all the fun, can I, Obi-chan?”

“When will you stop calling me that?” You grimaced, annoyed that he had spoiled your fun. 

“Hah.” He leaned his head back, hands finding his pockets again. “When our little Obi-chan becomes a special-grade sorcerer, ‘kay?”

Little did this loser know, you nearly accomplished that in your past life, so nothing was stopping you from doing it for real. “Promise?”

“Plan on making another bet? I’ll swear on it.” He leaned towards you this time. 

“A dangerous game you’re playing.” You dropped your hands to your sides, butterfly knife snapping shut under your finger.

“What can I say, I just encourage bad ideas.”

“Let's focus on this wager first, alright, Gojo? If you’re so desperate to give me money, I should start carrying a cup on me. Maybe I'll leave it outside my room.”

“Are you inviting me to creep around outside your dorm? You really are promiscuous! And I thought I knew you.” It was ironic, considering this Gojo didn’t really know you at all. “Before, you were totally boring!” Ow? “But something’s different about you.” 

He took the time to study you, the feeling of his heavy stare scrutinizing your every move suddenly seeped in. You weren’t an insecure person, but now, insecurity was all you felt. 

“I can't tell if it’s the sudden surplus of cursed energy you’re emitting.. or, maybe, by the grace of whatever God loves you, our dear Obi-chan finally developed a likable personality!” As he spoke, he stared behind you, another slot machined curse sneaking from behind. He did nothing though, insisting on watching what would happen. “Care to share with the class?”

Like it was second nature, he watched as the spark in your eyes changed. Before the curse could lay its mangled hand on you, time glitched, almost like how a video game would lag back to the last pixelated graphics it could generate. The curse hadn’t raised their hand yet. Gojo watched you, your back was facing him now, knife in hand.

Suddenly as if no time had passed at all, the curse was dead. Its corpse was like static, body twitching at an unusual rate. Eventually, the monster began to wither away under your cold stare, the tension thick enough to cut. Gojo hadn’t realized it before, but he certainly did now. Something was indeed different about you. 

“Woooah, Obi-chan, have you been working out?” 

“You were distracting me on purpose.” You turned your head, a grimace on your lips, but your playful glance betrayed you.

“Oh, haha, me? No, nooooo-” He waved his hands in front of him, sweat dripping from his forehead. His tone was laced in sarcasm. “Besides, you had it totally covered!” 

“I am going to enjoy taking your money, Gojo.”

“Waaaah?! Is that all I am to you? A walking wallet?” He scoffed, feigning offense. “I’m starting to think you just like using people for their money, Obi-chan…. What is that called? A gold digger?”

“I'm surprised you even know what that is.”

“Oh Obi-Chan… are you calling me dumb?”

“No. Geto just gets more girls than you. Hard to be used for your money when no one wants you in the first place.” Yeesh.. Kinda mean there, no? 

“Ohoho, you’re so funny! I’m starting to get the idea, don’t worry though, I won’t tell Suguru.”

“Tell him what?” You asked, genuinely confused as to where this conversation was going. 

“That you like him, of course.” He smirked, eyes peering down at you over the glasses perched on the tip of his nose. He looked sadistic, like he found some dark secret and planned on exploiting you for the rest of your life. You could imagine it now, him using you as a footstool in efforts he’ll stay quiet. 

Your jaw dropped. A hit and a miss, he was so off. “Now I'm really starting to think you’re stupid.”

“Not cracking, huh?” His smirk fell a little, probably from disappointment. He had expected a bigger reaction, a show of desperation, you begging him to keep quiet. Instead, you looked at him as if he said something so out of pocket. Was he doubting himself now? He couldn't read you, and that drove him insane. 

“I don’t even know Geto like that, don’t say things that aren’t true. You’ll embarrass yourself.” You shook your head, putting your knife back into your skirt’s pocket. If you remember correctly, there should be a special grade curse acting as a ring leader at one of the poker tables, so you should be able to skip through the rest of the grunt work.

It’s funny. When you originally lived through this event, you were mercilessly unprepared for what laid before you. In the files given to you, sources said that this curse was merely a semi-first grade, something sorcerers like Gojo and Geto could beat by breathing. Little did you know, this apparition wasn’t what you should’ve been afraid of. 

The fight with this curse was one of the most embarrassing duels that you had in your past life, seeing as you ended up trapped in the curse’s ante against its ‘match’ with Gojo. In truth, you had been eager for this confrontation, having daydreamed in the past of all the ways you could humiliate Gojo back for those transgressions. You just had to play your cards right and stay on top of the game.

As the two of you continued forward, you saw the curse emerge from the shadows. It was vaguely human in terms of its silhouette, but its eyes were large and vertical, with the creases synching up with its sharklike smile. Its mouth fell open and a whispery voice streamed out, “Place your wager.”

You snapped out of your gawking and shook your head to focus, if you played this game right you could get both Gojo’s money and however much this curse had accumulated from its other victims. A wide smirk placed itself on your lips as you whipped out your debit card. Mustering up as much false bravado that you could, you placed it onto the table. “I’ll have you know I have a very large sum in my bank account.”

A very large negative balance, that is, as you had gone to the bank and found that you owed a large amount in retail therapy. You felt Gojo shaking beside you as he contained his laughter. 

He reached into his side pocket and took out a familiar necklace. Your necklace. The one you had stored your cursed energy into over the years. The one that will hopefully save his life. “Will this work?”

For a moment, you felt childish for the jealousy that pooled in your stomach, turning your head away so Gojo couldn’t see. You knew that immediately after this he would give you a silly grin and hand it to you, but it made you anxious that it was going to break. It was one of your treasured possessions and you had been eager to get it back ever since returning to this time. 

It raspily laughed as it reached out with a slimy hand and took the card from you, briefly making contact with your fingers causing you to gag internally. It reached over for Gojo’s, but before it could make contact, he withdrew the necklace, procuring a small handkerchief and artfully wrapping it and placing it into the creature's hand. From the angle of his face you could almost say that he looked displeased, but you knew that would be wishful thinking. 

“Come and sit.”

Walking over to the poker table, you sat on a stool, tucking your skirt in to avoid contact with the grimy surface as much as possible. Gojo, the bastard, sat down with little to no care as Limitless prevented him from touching it. Noticing your discomfort he leaned over and whispered, “If you want, you can sit in my lap.”

Your face heated as you swatted at him to shut up. 

The curse interrupted your bickering with a wave of its hand. “We place bets now.”

With that, you watched in morbid fascination as the table in front of you filled with playing cards, the faces of them covered in various souls that the curse had trapped over time, all wailing and prostrating towards the two of you in a plea for freedom. 

The curse snapped its fingers as they were all placed into a line at one end of the table. “Now… take a good look, why don't you….? What do you see?”

“Someone who had a bad day.” You remarked, scoffing lightly as you felt Gojo chuckle beside you.

“Souls, right?” Came his own response. 

“Correct… you get a point, boy.” The curse pointed to him with its long, crooked finger. The nail was black, rotten underneath, like it would fall off if you pulled it light enough.

Woah woah woah, who said anything about a points system?! If you had known it was being serious, you would have said that answer to begin with! 

“We... will play a game…” It’s voice croaked. “A matching game…” Easy enough. 

If your memory serves you right, it was going to give each of you a set of soul cards, and above were separate cards, labeled with crimes. You just had to match the soul to the crime, whoever had more correct would win. 

With the snap of its corrupt finger, your memory became reality, cards snapping to life in front of you as they arranged themselves. Screams echoed throughout the room, unanswered prayers and alike causing you to temporarily cover your ears. Gojo, however, looked just fine, silently watching the ordeal in front of him.

Six cards sat in front of you, mirrored by six more in a row above them. They had what you thought were names, foreign figures spelling out something on the bottom. The crimes above were things akin to ‘murder’, ‘arson’, and ‘fraud’, laid out orderly before you. 

“Let’s start… With…” The curse’s voice resembled that of an old woman. It was unusual for a curse to be able to speak so eloquently with jujutsu sorcerers, though not unheard of. Curses like Mahito existed in your timeline, after all. “Him.” In response, the first card glowed. 

“What crime…?” It bellowed.

The card blinked, its eye struggling to open as if its lids had been melted together. A short scream escaped its foils before Satoru carelessly slapped down a card. Auto theft. “This loser totally looks like he played grand theft auto for a living.”

You thought to yourself, releasing a short hum before glancing at your own choices. From what you could remember, auto theft hadn’t been a correct answer. Before, you had chosen petty theft, and had gotten it incorrect. So, this time, it was a matter of elimination. 

You sighed, picking up one of the cards before placing it down on top of Gojo’s. “Arson.”

A moment passed.

And then another.

What felt like yet another moment passed until the card dissolved into black particles, groans echoing as the curse’s jaw slacked open, bones snapping out of place. The orbs retreated to the spirit’s mouth, and once they had been consumed, it snapped shut.

“Arson is correct.” It spoke, though its mouth hadn’t moved. Ah, so the voice was coming from inside your head. That totally wasn’t concerning, maybe you should get that checked out?

Gojo let out an amused chuckle, and before long, the cycle had repeated countless times. You tried to the best of your ability to outsmart Gojo, obviously having an unfair advantage of hindsight. A surprise to nobody but everyone, you had won this game, which gave you a step towards winning all of Gojo’s fucking money. 

Before long, the cards had all been consumed by the curse, you only getting two of the six incorrect. It held up an arm, sleeve waving in its movement, the smell…? Holy shit. Both you and Gojo held back gagging noises. “Now, we will see who knows the other best.” 

You laughed to yourself. You had this in the fucking bag.

Your relationship in the past life had been born out of you filling in the holes that Gojo would leave around, ranging from sending back ‘Thank You’ notes for presents, to putting away the peanut butter when he left it out. There was no one who knew Gojo better than you. (And Geto.)

In your peripheral, Gojo clapped his hands and cheered. “Yaaaaay! Finally! Something fun.”

Your eyebrow twitched as you recall the same scene from before, where the dude had basically obliterated your self esteem with completely off the wall answers, each word intending to land a dig at you. At least this time you knew what to expect.

The first question should be about your morning routines, followed by–

“What color is the other's underwear?”

You begin violently coughing and choking on your spit. Your what?

Gojo cracks his fingers and leans forward, “Easy, black. I can see it even now with those low riding skirts she wears.”

You swing a fist at him, for once catching him off guard and knocking him to the floor. You suck your teeth in irritation, resolving to win even if the questions were different. “White. Calvin Klein, to be specific.”

Gojo’s scandalized gasp is covered up by the creature clapping its hands once. “Both are correct. Obinata wins through detail.”

“Obi-chan, how’d you know? Have you been… watching–”

“Shut up.”

“But–”

You hit him again. 

“Next question, who was the other’s first kiss?”

What is with this curse and the romantic implications? Before it was only stupid shit about your daily lives, what changed? 

Gojo smirked, “As if anyone would kiss her.”

A sick feeling bubbles in your stomach as you suppress the hurt at his response. He doesn’t know that you two end up together, but the cruelty still makes you wince. 

You pause as numbness spreads across your chest, realizing that since you started so far back, that you very well might not end up with Gojo in this life. Hell, if your plans work and you save everyone, defeat Kenjaku and Sukuna, then he would probably be with– “Geto Suguru.”

You feel his body go completely still next to you, shock and disbelief coloring his face. You turn to meet his eyes and find traces of pain in his gaze. Coughing, you try to correct the situation. “I mean, as if anyone would kiss you either!”

But it was too late and the curse clapped once again. “Both are correct.”

Beyond feeling remorse for hurting him, you also felt some level of fear. If this wasn’t your Gojo and was instead some teenager that has yet to suffer his worst trauma, how would he react? 

The curse continued on regardless, “What is the other's greatest sin?”

You knew something was wrong when he responded, “Envy.”

Tightening your hands into fists, you grit out, “Hubris.”

Clap– “Y/N is correct. Final question.” 

You heard Gojo’s jaw click in irritation. 

“What is the other’s gravest secret?” Though previously the curse had been relatively neutral in its tone, now it allowed glee to seep into its tone as it was able to drive a wedge between the two of you. 

You startled at Gojo’s laughter, looking at him with wide eyes as he responded, “Don’t you know? She’s the reason her whole family’s dead .”

Silence coats the room. Breaths don’t even escape your mouth as your hands begin to shake and your heart rate rises. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

The curse reaches towards you. “Your answer?”

You whip your head to glare at him and pull your knife from your pocket, eyes flickering down to its blade. Gojo made a noise in suspense, almost as if he had suspected you’d use it against him in your anger.

The curse had no time to react, a short cry of surprise, before your blade found itself between its eyes. The apparition glitched, your cursed energy embedding itself into your blade, rewinding the very time of its creation. It screamed, hellishly, its atoms breaking apart as it eradicated itself out of existence. Your tremors resonated through its skull as it decayed, and the curse exploded, dark goo splattering across your face. As its body hit the floor and became nothing, you withdrew your knife and refused to look at Gojo as you softly whispered, “I expect the money in my account by Friday.” 

At the curse’s abstraction, your all familiar necklace floated in front of you, your debit card beside it. It was only a second, before gravity took its course as they raced for the ground. With a well timed motion, you caught it, the chain running through your fingers as the hourglass hung neatly in your palm. You pocketed your card, eyes returning back to the item in your hand. You stared at it. For once, you had no need for this necklace at all.

For once in his life, Gojo hesitated before quipping back, “Of course, you only want me for my–”

You strode past him, checking him with your shoulder, quickly shoving the hourglass necklace against his chest as you left. “Get the fuck away from me.”

Chapter Text

“Don’t you know? She’s the reason her whole family’s dead.” Did he really believe that? In fact, did everyone?

A few days had passed since your mission with Gojo, and you hadn’t spoken a word to him since. You weren’t going out of your way to ignore him, no, but you weren’t dying to be near him either. Class was the same, albeit unusually quiet, and it seemed Gojo had developed quite the staring problem. 

You spent the last few days rewinding that moment through your mind, using the spite building up in you to put hours into your training. You doubled your routine that you had before, putting more effort into strength and agility to move up faster in the ranks.

When it came to honing your curse technique, you could tell that Yaga-sensei wasn’t 100% sure on how to train you, but you graciously pardoned him, saying that you had found some records of your family’s fight style from before. In truth, the training that he was going to give you wouldn’t be suited to your ability and had resulted in a massive setback that you overcame in your early twenties.

You were sprinting on the track field, caught up in your own thoughts when a body stepped in front of you, colliding with them and sending the both of you flying. Angry, you sat up and found yourself partially on top of him, taking the opportunity to grab his collar and threaten, “Watch where you’re going you little–”

You stop yourself as you recognize the kid cowering beneath you. Haibara Yu. Someone who died only due to circumstance and not the mockery of a play staged by Kenjaku. You bite your tongue as pity lances through you. “I mean–”

“I’m sorry, Y/N-senpai!” Haibara interrupts you. “Please forgive me for getting in your way!”

You roll your eyes and pull him up by his collar, “It’s fine. Just be mindful.”

Turning, you spied a familiar face and your mouth dropped open in shock, “Nanamin!” 

To say that Nanami had been your ‘rock’ was truly an understatement. As long as you could remember, alongside Shoko, you and your underclassman friend had always been close. 

Knowing what his future had in store for him. Knowing he never got to go to that beach he always spoke about, god… It ate at you.

But seeing him alive, and with that god awful comb-over, you had zero regrets about coming back to this time. If you could preserve this life forever, even with Gojo’s tireless assaults, you would.

The kid immediately winced, his face pulling into an expression of unease, “Y/N-senpai. Excuse us for interrupting your training.”

“No, no,” You breathed out through your nose. “It’s fine, I was just out of it. Are you guys here to train as well?” 

Haibara scratched his head shyly, “Yeah, our teacher said that we were, um–”

“Awful at athleticism,” Nanami interjected. 

“Oh!” You laughed awkwardly for their sakes. Really, they were good kids from what you could remember. You had always felt bad, knowing there wasn’t anything you could do to save Haibara. Your lips pouted as you considered the scrawny kids in front of you. “Well, that’s rude of her.”

Nanami looked unamused. “Yeah, I would agree.”

“Do you guys want to join me for the day? I could give some tips and stuff,” You trailed off as you looked at Haibara, who was making every attempt not to look you in the eye. Normally, you would’ve dismissed it as a lower classman trying to be respectful, but now, ever since that conversation with Gojo... it made you wonder. Did everyone think you were the reason the Obinata Clan was murdered? 

The lack of response did nothing but confirm your suspicions, irrational or not. 

Everyone really did blame you.

“Sure,” Nanami supplied. “That would be much appreciated, especially for Haibara.”

The boy next to you went completely red in response, “Nanami!”

You stood mute for a second before allowing a small smile to cross your face, “So, how about we start with a warm-up jog?” 

Twenty minutes later, both of your lower-classmen were on the ground panting. Haibara was even holding back tears? “Guys, we haven’t even done a mile yet…”

Nanami lifts his head to stare at you coldly, in contrast to his beet-red face, “One moment, senpai.”

Wasn’t the Nanamin you knew super jacked? What’s with this scrawny kid in front of you now?

Pursing your lips, you found yourself wanting to help them in their athletic endeavor. With your interference, you may even be able to strengthen them up enough that Haibara wouldn’t die on that mission. “How about you guys join me when I train?”

You watched the blood that had pooled in Haibara’s cheeks drain as he blanched. “Please, no-”

Laughing, you pulled both of them to their feet, steadying them as they swayed to and fro. “You don’t have to do exactly what I do, I’ll just be there as an instructor. For encouragement. And not to degrade you like your sensei does now.”

You felt a warm hand grab your shoulder as Nanamin looked you in the eye. “If you would, I think we both could use your guidance.”

You smiled, genuinely this time. “I offered.” You playfully shrugged his hand off of your shoulder, leaning upwards to ruffle his hair. “And please, fix this haircut.” 

“What-?” He blushed, most likely from embarrassment. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

Haibara released a shriek-like laugh, holding his stomach as he almost doubled over. “I told you-! I’ve been telling him, y/n–!”

He fussed, ripping his hair away from your grasp as he reached over to punt Haibara in the shoulder. He was suddenly serious. “Oi, watch your tone. Obinata-Senpai is offering her help, don’t disrespect her–”

It was your turn to laugh, hand pointedly gesturing to him. “You’re so serious, Nanamin! Please, it’s alright–” 

Suddenly, the mood seemed to darken, a voice clearing itself behind you. “What's so funny?”

To your dismay, you pivoted on your foot, coming face to face with Geto Suguru. Your noses almost touched, having misinterpreted just how close he was to you. “Geto–?” You took a step back. His piercing gold gaze leered down at you, hair slicked back in a tight-bun as his forehead glinted with sweat. His face was pulled into a grimace, like he himself didn’t want to be around you either. You weren’t the only one working out, it seemed, his forearms tense as veins seemed to follow up his neck. Jesusfuckingchrrrrrriiiiiiissssss–

“We’ve been called for a mission.” He pulled you back to reality, hand coming down to clamp around your wrist. “Say goodbye to your children , it’s time to get serious–”

“I was plenty serious–” You started, yelping as he pulled you to walk in front of him.

“o-Oh! Bye senpai! Good luck–!” Haibara called after you, waving sporadically. It seemed his energy had returned to him.

Nanami shook his head, eyes narrowing as he watched Geto. 

“Tomorrow!” You called over Geto’s shoulder, nearly launching yourself on the man for your voice to be heard. “Tomorrow at five! After class!” 

“Sounds great! Thank you!” Sweet Haibara.

Geto scoffed something under his breath, hand finding the small of your back to keep you moving.

“What was that?” You lifted a brow, accusingly.

“Nothing.” He was fast to respond. “We have to change, and then we’ll meet Shoko and Satoru at the front before we leave.”

“All of us?” You faltered for a second. Where were we right now? The past few days have been a blur, only using your time for class and training. Shoko had even commented on your change in demeanor, mentioning that you had suddenly become.. a lot more arduous. 

“Yes. Utahime and Mei-Mei never made it out of their mission. It’s been two days. The four of us are tasked with bringing them back.”

“Then just send you or Gojo.” You grimaced, breaking away from his hold. “Since the two of you are so stroooong.” You drew out the word sarcastically, speeding up to get away from him. He easily matched your pace. 

“Oh wow,” He started, a smirk growing on his face. “Your silent treatment isn’t just meant for Satoru?” 

You were taken aback, ears growing hot at the realization that Gojo had been talking about you. “Don’t act like my reaction was uncalled for.”

“I never said it wasn’t.” He glanced down at you, straightening himself back up. “I’m just surprised it applies to me.”

“Treatment by association.” You dismissed him, waving your hand. “You would know all about that.”

“Hm. Touche.” He nodded, going quiet. As the two of you walked, you fell into a tense silence until you came to the locker rooms. He nodded at you, heading to the mens as you pulled the door open for the women's. 

You were left wondering what it was that Gojo had said about your mission to others. Obviously he would skirt that detail, y’know, the one where he kissed his best friend, but he could very well twist your refusal of answering the curse into an admission of guilt. You strip quickly, trying to remove the anxious weight pressing on your chest in the process. 

As you reached into your locker for your uniform, you saw a plastic bag in the back. Pulling it out you see that it was a pack of caramel hard candies and you stare at it puzzled, until you remember why you bought it in the first place.

You pause your downward spiral as you pull them out of the locker, contemplating what you should do. In your last life you were too shy to ever give these to Geto, and after his rebellion you regretted never doing so. 

Geto was playing on his flip phone as you exited the locker room, the door being slammed shut by your foot. Geto sat up, shutting his phone with a quick ‘click’, before pocketing it. He saw your change in attitude and raised a questioning eyebrow. 

You crinkled the bag in your fist as you scowled at him, “ What ?” 

The corners of his lips turned down but he didn’t match your ire, seeming remorseful instead. “I don’t think you’re a bad person. And while Gojo may be an asshole, he’s not an idiot. He only said that to get under your skin, he doesn’t actually believe it.”

You went to snap at him, but he only stepped closer, your breaths intermingling and stealing the air from your lungs. “Y/N, I’m serious.”

You pulled yourself from his grasp and considered him for a moment. As much as you wanted to say otherwise, he looked genuine. Well, now is as good a time as any. 

“I got these for after you have to – you know,” you swallowed uncomfortably as if to mimic the action. “I just saw them and thought of you.”

Shoving the bag into his chest, you took his moment of surprise as an opportunity to slip away.

In horror, you watch as Gojo drew the building into the sky for a second time, no less shocking than the last and the same sentiment slipped from your lips. “GOJO! YOU DUMBASS!”

The man himself turned to you and you refused to be charmed by his care-free smile or the way his hair glowed in the sunlight. “Hmm? Obi-chan, you were so quiet I forgot you were there!” 

Laughing at your rage, he turned to Utahime, who emerged furiously from the rubble. “Aweee, look Obi-Chan! She’s crying!”

“Am not! I don't need your consolation!” The girl snarled, scrambling to her feet before dusting off her sleeves. Quickly, she refuted her statement upon seeing you. 

Suddenly, the girl burst into tears before ripping herself forward. “Y/N-Chan!” She cried, feet carrying towards you as you jumped down to meet her. “Please help me-!” She pleaded, throwing herself into your chest. 

Her arms wrapped around you, protectively gripping the back of your uniform before throwing a glare Gojo’s way.

“Wow.. Utahime, I’m jealous.” Mei-Mei mused, watching from above as she had survived the initial assault. “Both Gojo and Obinata fawning over you? What If I need comfort too?”

“Yeah, not gonna happen.” Gojo denied, lips pulling into a tight line at the sight of you cradling this girl. She had acted tough just a moment ago, but was now begging for your attention. “You’re already strong, Mei-Mei.” 

Mei-mei sighed, shaking her head before following Gojo’s gaze. She smirked, tongue poking out to lick at her bottom lip. With little to no hesitation, she dropped herself down to where the two of you were, wrapping her arms around your middle.

You laughed, throwing your head back to look up at her. “Hey Mei-Mei…” You smiled. This looked like some perverts dream, truly. “How’s that sugar daddy–”

Before you could finish that thought, the ground rumbled, tearing itself apart as the curse ripped itself from hiding. Your eyes widened, mouth opening to send warning- but before you could even finish that thought, Geto’s own curse ripped out from underneath it. The worm-like apparition, akin to an exogorth from Star Wars, nearly swallowed it whole. 

This immediately elicited screams from the three of you, huddling close for a false sense of security. 

“Satoru, it’s not nice to pick on the weak, you know?” Geto mused, walking forward from his position at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Yeah, but what kind of idiot picks on the strong?” Gojo laughed, his glasses jolting as he hung his head back.

“You’re the one naturally fanning the flames, Geto...” Mei-mei smiled, shaking her head. “Poor Utahime is trembling.”

As if to further prove her point, the poor girl went further to bury her face into your torso. 

“You guys are not funny.” You chastised, hands gently running through her hair. Unbeknownst to you, this girl was reveling in the attention.

“Really? I think it’s hilarious, Y/N.” Shoko grinned, cigarette lazily sitting between her lips. “Utahime, you alright?”

Utahime peaked over your shoulder, cautiously lifting her head. “Shokoooo! These mean boys are making fun of me and Y/N-Chan! Make em’ stooop!” She shook her head, hiding her face into your shoulder. Mei-mei got the memo, stepping away from the two of you, realizing this joke was in fact not a joke, and Utahime was deadly serious.

Both Geto and Gojo shared a look, the two of them jumping down to your level as they moved to pull the two of you apart. Utahime, in response, only dug her hands further into your sides, making you wince in pain, but you laughed nonetheless. 

Gojo pulled on Utahime’s shoulders harder as Geto secured his arms around yours. “Obi-chan, you have a parasite problem, I think you need some bug spray.”

Geto nods solemnly, “It’s really tenacious.”

The girl clinging to you started yowling like a cat, legs flailing as she was lifted off the ground. “Let go! You get to see her all the time. I wanna hold my precious underclassmen!” 

Mei-Mei propped a hand on her hip, “Seems you want her to be your partner more than me, but I don’t think they’d allow that.” She said, waving her hand at the two boys who only smiled back at her. Shoko merely stood, leaning forward with her phone as she snapped a few pictures. 

“Glad you understand, Mei-mei,” You shiver at Geto’s voice being so close to your ear. “Now please remove Utahime-san.” 

You really had no say in the matter. “She’s the one holding onto me-” You croaked, the unbearing weight of multiple people pulling you causing you to feel nauseous. 

Mei-mei shrugged and reached between you and Gojo to tickle Utahime’s side, the smaller girl shrieking as she let go. Instead of allowing the inertia to send him flying back, Gojo anticipated this and unceremoniously dropped her onto Mei-mei, who then fireman-carried her away.

Crying in success, Gojo quickly took Utahime’s place and buried his face into your neck, causing you to squeak in surprise. “EXCUSE ME?” 

The roles were reversed now, Geto flanking your back like MeiMei had. A snap of a picture sounded out, eyes flicking up towards the culprit.

Shoko took a drag from her cigarette with her eyebrows raised. “You should file a sexual harassment claim for that. They’re literally Eiffel Towering you.” She hummed, a smirk playing on her face. “On second thought, how much money would Mei-Mei’s sugar daddy give for this?” 

She turned her device towards you, the small pixelated flip phone showing a very flustered you, sandwiched by two guys you currently wanted nothing to do with.

You shrieked in humiliation. 

Geto gave her a pleasant grin. “Wouldn’t Utahime-senpai face the same charges?” 

Gojo nodded in agreement against your neck and you barely suppressed a shiver. You had a feeling they could tell, but prayed they wouldn’t say anything in response. 

“I hope you know you owe me for that,” Mei-Mei sang out. 

Gojo lifted his head to call back to her, “How about I post your bail when you’re jailed for sexual harassment?” 

Geto laughed heartily, “You’d be paying all our bonds.”

“Oh, he has the money,” You roll your eyes.

Blue eyes pierce yours over the rim of his glasses. “You do, too, now. Unless you’ve spent it all? I can always give you more.” 

The embers of ire in your stomach flare to life as you sneer, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” You looked around, face falling as you realized you all had forgotten to put up a veil. “Now, let go of me so I can call Yaga-sensei to bring someone out to clean up this mess.” 

Gojo followed your gaze, making the same realization you had. For once, he didn’t have the energy to make a retort.

The sound of a tv broadcast played over a quiet classroom, a news report on an explosion taking place that affected an entire prefecture. The four of you sat on your knees, all bowing slightly in a show of filial piety before your teacher.

“You four were supposed to oversee the mission at that home, also, you left your assistant supervisor behind. And on top of everything, you forgot the veil.” Yaga’s voice echoed throughout the class. “Now.. Who’s to blame for this?”

With no hesitation, Geto, Shoko, and you lifted your fingers, pointing entirely at Gojo. 

Gojo wiggled underneath his gaze, hand shooting up. “Sensei! I’m asking you to stop this hunt for the culprit!”

“So it was you then.” Your teacher’s voice darkened, a fist coming down against Gojo’s head. He yelped in response, whining something incoherent. “I expect better from all of you. If you’re sent out in a team, then I’m sending a team, not a one man show with background characters. You’re all dismissed.”

The four of you dispersed, each pissed for a different reason. A background character? You thought he thought of you better than that. You turn to see Shoko waiting for you at the door, Gojo and Geto long gone. “How about we go out, Y/N? We can spend whatever money you shelled out of Gojo?” 

“You go on ahead, I need to talk to Yaga-sensei.”

She whistled a low tune, “Damn, your funeral, I guess.” 

While you did want to address that needling insult, you had to remember the bigger plan. “Yaga-sensei?”

He paused from heading out the other door, turning to look at you, “Yes?”

“With all due respect, is that really what you think of me?” You ask solemnly. While Shoko and Geto could get past being overshadowed by the ‘greatest’, allowing themselves to fall behind where he took credit, you wanted to let him know you had a greater purpose. 

Your teacher sighed and gestured for you to sit in one of the chairs while he leaned up against the chalkboard to consider your question. “Obinata-san, that wasn’t meant for you, it was to show Gojo that–”

You interrupted him on impulse, “I know, but it hurts nonetheless.” You breathe out in irritation, looking out the window as you play with your nails. “Besides, saying stuff like that to him won’t do anything, it’ll just stroke his ego.”

“You’re right,” he hummed. “If I’m being honest, Obinata-san, your whole class is full of strong characters, each technique unique in its own way. He’s the only one that lacks the discipline to consider that.” 

“...” You went quiet at that, nodding along. Of course the man was right, it wasn’t a confusing concept to grab, you just were surprised he had the gall to say it. “Thank you, Yaga-sensei.” 

“I’m glad I could clear that up for you, I’m sorry about the misunderstanding.” He nodded, eyes turning towards the clock on the wall. “Is there anything else I could do for you?”

“Actually, there is.” You nodded, eyes carefully looking towards the same clock. Soon, you thought to yourself, things would start to change.

“What can you tell me about the Zenin Clan?”

Chapter Text

Through a number of slightly shady contacts, you were able to track down the man himself. And though you couldn’t help but feel intimidated, the sound of people talking and children playing in the park around you set you at ease. Toji Zenin, the man who single handedly ruined your timeline as you knew it, had requested to meet under the pretense that you’d pay a deposit of twenty thousand yen. 

You didn’t meet him at that time so you had no idea what you were looking for, you hadn’t been eager to ask Gojo or Geto on details, more focused on trying to hold onto the vestiges of your crumbling relationships with them in your original life. So meeting him was surreal, so to speak. 

You approached the designated meeting point, a random bench next to a light post and green trash can. Strangely he looked exactly how you thought he would, which would be; fucking massive. Just how much could this guy bench press? You had half the heart to ask him for a workout routine. 

The man raised his eyebrow at you, but appeared more focused on the ice cream he was eating. “Huh… so one of the last surviving members of the Obinata clan is a woman.” 

“It would seem so.” You hummed, not giving much for him to chase after. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me.”

“You’re the one paying; get to it,” With that he took a bite of the ice cream cone. 

“As I’m sure you know, my family has some jurisdiction over time, so I happen to know of a certain event coming up,” You started, twisting your fingers as you gaze at him with a neutral expression. “The Star Plasma Vessel."

He leant forward, intrigued, “I happen to have a job on the table for that already, but you know that, don’t you?”

You nodded, “I’ll pay you double if you protect her instead.”

“You know how much I’m being paid?”

“30 million yen.”

Toji clapped his hands. “And you’ll pay me double that? What summer job do you have? I know Jujutsu Tech doesn’t pay that much.”

“I have my resources,” 190 cm of albino resources. 

You cut him off before he could even open his mouth. “And before you say anything, you’re not the only one who knows things that they shouldn’t. Speaking of which, how's Megumi?” You smiled, just a little. “How long does he have before the Zenin Clan comes looking for him?”

The ambiance of your conversation soured for a second, and you harshly twisted your ring finger to maintain your composure. 

“The Obinata clan certainly has their ways,” he said darkly. 

Swallowing your fear, “It would seem so,” you continued, taking a deep breath and matching Toji’s tone. “What if I offered to take the kids in?” 

The dark-haired man laughed at you, “To where?”

“My family home. My grandma takes care of my cousin there, and I believe he’s around their age so they wouldn’t feel out of place.”

“What makes you think I care about stuff like that?” 

You suck your teeth to conceal your irritation at being interrupted. “It would serve as a good place to hide him away from the Zenin clan until he grows up. The Obinata Clan would be the last place they’d think. Besides, I go to Jujutsu Tech. I have good allies.” 

He took the last bite of his ice cream as he pondered your words. “I’ll take that and your money,” Your shoulders sag in relief. “But answer my one question.”

You raise an eyebrow in suspicion. “Yes?”

“What happens in the future?”

You gawked at him, “Do you want the short version, or the long one?”

“We got all day, don’t we?” 

“So, there I am and a Sukuna-possessed-Megumi tore Gojo’s body in half,” You scooped some strawberry ice cream into your mouth. “And I clutch onto my necklace and he goes to kill me, then wham!” You stomped your foot to the ground. “I’m back in my high school classroom.”

Toji leaned back in his boothe at the ice cream parlor you two had gone to visit. “It’s good to know that something can bring that man down.”

You gave him a look. 

“Yeah, yeah, you were fiances,” He rolled his eyes. “Good that those Zenin Clan bastards got what was coming to them.” He thought before opening his mouth again, “and the elders were killed, we should let that happen again.”

“I don’t think the route that we’ll take is going to push us in that direction.”

He cackled, “I’ll do it myself, then.”

You chose to ignore him as you took another bite of ice cream. “So, you're essentially caught up.”

“The Obinata abilities were really no joke, if only your brother hadn’t ended them,” He bared his teeth in the mockery of a smile. 

You froze in your seat, the blood rushing to your ears as you stared blankly ahead. The stores’ bell rang and familiar voices sounded around you, face contorting into one of panic as you threw one of the menus into Toji’s face. “Get down.”

But it was too late. 

“Obinata-senpai!” Haibara called out cheerfully. 

You clutched your face in terror as Toji’s eyes widened and he began to genuinely laugh at you. 

“Haibara,” Nanamin grabbed the other boy’s arm. “Don’t interrupt–” He cut himself off to pull his friend in and whispered in his ear. 

“Oh,” Haibara slammed a hand over his mouth. “Sorry, senpai! Good luck!”

With that, your underclassmen rushed out of the ice cream parlor and you stared at Toji in shock. 

He decided to spare you and continued as if nothing had happened, “So all I have to do is protect the girl?”

“Yes, with your life.” Your eyes had hardened, meeting his gaze. “I’ll give you more details at a later date, keep in touch with me. If someone tries to talk you out of my deal, let me know.”

“Anything for my sweetie. ” He sang mockingly.

You laughed and ignored him. Toji Fushiguro really was a criminal. 

Eventually, the time came around for you to meet with Haibara and Nanami for the training you had mentioned the day before. Of course, you took it upon yourself to put Nanami and Haibara through hell for interrupting your debrief with your very important ‘client’.  

“I don’t care if you’re tired, I said do it again!” 

“Senpai, please,” Nanami spoke between gasps, his body spasming as he attempted another sit up. 

“You haven’t even made it to twenty! Keep it going,” You said as you moved through a pilates workout that Toji had recommended. Scummy as he was, he had good workout tips. 

“Haibara hasn’t moved in five minutes!” 

You looked at the kid lying on his back, pointedly ignoring the metaphorical vultures circling his head. “And he’ll continue when he gets up! Now, get moving.” 

Rising like the dead, Haibara sat up and moaned. “Senpai– please–”

“Cut it out.”

Nanami looked at you with vengeance in his stare, “Is this because we saw you on your date?”

“What date?” A new voice this time, but you were too distracted with yourself to notice. 

“NOT a date!!” You exclaimed as you moved into a headstand, hands coming down to your sides to prop yourself up, engaging your core. When you opened your eyes, you took a breath as you balanced yourself, two very unwelcome faces coming into focus. 

“Obi-chan, I never knew you were so flexible!” Gojo grins down at you as Geto stifles a laugh. “Mind teaching us some moves?”

You allowed your feet to touch the ground behind your head as you lifted yourself into a standing position, face to face with the nuisances. “Did I invite you to my training session?” 

Geto pointedly ignores your question as he gives a customer service worthy smile to Haibara. “What date?”

You watched in horror as the boy’s face lit up, body dragging itself uncharacteristically to a sitting position.

“Oh! Y/N was getting ice cream with some guy- here, I took a picture, wanna see?” The words barely left his mouth before Nanami’s fist collided with his stomach, sending the boy right back to the ground.

“What picture?” Nanami gave him a pointed glare, a warning. 

“O-oh, yeah! That’s right! I don’t have a picture! Haha, silly me– it’s just so hot out here–” His cries resumed as Gojo’s hands grabbed hold of his phone, tossing it over to Geto for further investigation. 

The phone flipped open, the two teenage boys now peering over the device to check its contents. Goddamn you Haibara for not having a password. Before they could dig too deep, you took this opportunity to lunge forward, right foot pushing off before you were caught in mid air. 

Gojo, foreseeing this response, was quick to get in between you and Geto, limitless stopping you from moving any further. You slammed into his barrier with a growl, before activating your ability.

There you stood, seconds before Geto caught the phone, the device spiraling in mid-air. Using the seconds you had, you rushed forward, pulling Geto into a tackle. You contorted your body, ringling out of his hands before using your feet to push yourself up, gaining a few more inches off the ground. Your hands grabbed at his shoulders, using the momentum to push yourself up and over. You flipped, landing back down on your feet before you swung your foot, making contact with the small of his back. 

He grunted, throwing you a look as the phone made contact with his shoulder, clattering to the ground. 

You let out an animalistic shriek, throwing yourself at his back, body curling around his forearm as you brought him to the ground with precision. “Ohwhatthefuck-” The boy grumbled, a bit confused at the change in altitude. You sat up, reaching out for Haibara’s phone, nearly succeeding until Gojo’s arms came up behind your own, locking your shoulders against his chest. You flailed, kicking mercilessly before resorting to every animal's instinctive line of offense. 

You bit down hard, the skin of his hand breaking under your teeth. “Geto! Geto! SHE’S BITING ME--” Gojo screamed, a sound of pure terror infiltrating your ears. Despite the carnage that was his hand, he wouldn’t let go, allowing Geto the opportunity to get to his feet. 

In a last, desperate attempt, you crunched your abdomen together, flailing legs coming up before wrapping themselves around Geto’s neck. Gojo, finding his arm’s unable to bend correctly with this change in position, was inclined to let go. You squeezed hard, causing Geto to drop to the ground to wrestle you off of him. 

With a loud cackle, your hand came in contact with the device, face covered in dirt as you brought it to your chest. Panting, you sat up, holding the phone in your hand victorious. You swiped through his camera, deleting the photo with a grin on your face. “I fucking won!” You cheered, but it was cut short as you turned around, noticing neither of the boys had mentioned their losses.

You let out a huff, sitting off the ground as you walked over, the pair huddled over Gojo’s phone. 

“You’re kidding me.” Your voice was laced in venom, eyes shakingly moving to stare at Haibara. 

“Obinata-senpai, I’m so sorry,” Haibara started, falling to his knees as he started to beg. 

You leered down at him, mouth clenching shut. “Take a lap.” You whispered through gritted teeth. 

“Obinata-senpai–” Nanami started, but you cut him off as quickly as he began. 

“ You, too .” You growled. 

As they took off, quite possibly for their own lives, you looked back to your fellow classmates, both staring at you with blank expressions. 

Gojo brought a hand up to his chin as he looked you up and down. “You wouldn’t be good together, I bet your astrology signs don’t even match.” He shook his head dismissively. 

“Y/N-chan,” Geto grabbed you by your shoulders, gazing at you meaningfully. “He has got to have a criminal background.”

You knocked his hands off of you as you became flustered. No wonder Geto was a cult leader, his presence was so compelling. “Delete that; neither of you have anything to do with my personal relationships.”

Gojo stilled before pinching both of your cheeks. “HE LOOKS ANCIENT!” He and Geto shared a look, but he spoke for your sake. “Don’t worry, Obi-chan, we’ll turn him in, don’t worry.”

Your panic increased, stomping your feet in frustration. “You will NOT turn him in!” 

Gojo ignored you, putting his forehead to your’s and pulling away with a gasp. “Geto! She’s burning up! Of course she’s not making good decisions! She must be sick.” He twisted your head towards Geto. “Here, feel.”

The heat on your face merely climaxed more as Geto complied and pressed his face to yours. “Yeah, a fever for sure. We should take her to Shoko and ask what’s going on.”

“I’m only hot ‘cause we fought! Don’t drag Shoko into this!” 

“Wait, does Shoko not know?” Gojo asked in shock. 

Internally you raged, yes! No one is supposed to know, much less the two of you!. But instead all that came out was some mumbled garbage as Gojo had tightened his grip on your face. 

Geto clasped your hand as it soared through the air in an attempt to slap Gojo. “Oh Y/N-chan, we’ll keep your secret.” He brought your palm to his chest as he added, “As long as you stop seeing him.” 

You hear your underclassmen’s sneakers slapping the turf as they finally run the rest of the lap back to you, both coughing and choking, speaking in unison. “Obina–”

You could only imagine what the three of you looked like, both of them encircling you like octopi. “Another lap,” you gritted out. 

When they were out of earshot, you broke away from their grasp. You turn and shake your finger at them. “Neither of you get to tell me what to do. I will see who I want.” 

You felt pretty cool saying that, but looking into their eyes, you felt a pang of fear lance through your chest. Having seen them at their best and worst, one of whom you knew better than the back of your hand, and the other by association, you could make the conclusion that their expressions were downright murderous. They were truly offended you even had the balls to disagree with them. 

You begin to squirm under the pressure, furrowing your brows as you choose to look anywhere but them. “You guys are only doing this to mess with me, why even bother?” With that, you threw your hands to your sides, pivoting on your foot. You didn’t spare another glance, choosing to walk away from whatever bullshit this had turned out to be. 

Nanami’s feet felt as if they were going to fall off, lungs working twice as hard to supply his brain with oxygen. He didn’t know when he had lost Haibara, but he knew his friend was far ways back from him. 

He could make out two figures in front of him, both standing in a delinquent-like manner and regarding him rather coldly. “Where’s—”

“Obi-chan said you had to do another lap,” Gojo spoke with sickeningly sweet sarcasm. 

“But, Obinata-senpai…”

Geto came up behind him and slapped his shoulder, propelling him forward several meters as he struggled to keep his feet underneath him. “Another lap.”

The naturally quiet Nanami truly found himself at a loss for words as he stumbled onward. He was seriously doubting becoming a sorcerer. 

You were glad that the school uniform consisted of a dark monochrome aesthetic. It made stealth missions like this one easier, seeing as you’ll likely go undetected. Holding your shoes in one hand, you sit on your window sill and slip them on, launching yourself a short distance to the ground and landing as softly as you could. 

It was your intention tonight to convince Riko Amanai to go along with your very questionable plan. 

Unfortunately, this meant revealing your knowledge of the previous future to someone who didn’t know of your heritage, which would be somewhat difficult. Most people would just assume you're crazy and have some luck in divination instead of believing you reset time as a whole. 

Ah, the misfortunes of being a protege of a dying bloodline. 

You refer to the semi-shitty map you had drawn to find your way to Riko’s apartment. You didn’t know what to expect from her personality, seeing as Gojo had only told you a little, and that was only years after she had died, so it could very well be skewed. 

You paused at the appointed spot, sitting on the curb as you waited for your accomplice. 

“You’re late,” You jump a little as you turn to look at Toji, leaning against the brick wall behind you with his arms crossed. “I thought you were never going to show up.”

“I’m missing my weekly game night for this; I had to come up with an excuse,” You supply, choosing to ignore his knowing smirk. 

“Sure, sure. You just couldn’t wait to break into another girl's home, huh?” 

You walk faster in reply. “You would think that, Toji.” You scoffed. In response, his knowing grin fell, and he released a sound of bewilderment. He picked up his own pace to level with your own. 

You arrived at the destination, grimacing as you saw the address detailed that she would be on a higher floor of the building. “How are we going to get there?” 

He didn’t say anything, nor did he give any warning before throwing you over his shoulder. His rough hands gripped the stone foundation, nearly cracking it under the force. With that, he began scaling the building. 

“Oh my god?” You could only squeak in response, hands grabbing desperately at his shirt in an effort to gain stability. Eventually, thank god, you reached her balcony. 

Toji cracked his knuckles and for a moment, you thought he was gonna bust the window in. Instead, you saw him take out a lock picking kit and crouch in front of the sliding door. He was feeling for alarms, constantly applying pressure to them before they could go off. Rolling his shoulders as he stood up, he gestured for you to head in. “Ladies first?” 

You shook your head in disbelief, “Thanks.” 

You survey the room, looking for any signs of a high school girl. No evidence of depressive episodes, irrational painting on the walls, or empty cans littering the countertops. “Is she even home?” 

You hear a flurry of movement to your left and before you could turn around completely, the feeling of two prongs being pressed into your side. “What the fuck?” 

All coherent thoughts bled from your brain as an electric current raced through your body, a hand wrapping around your mouth in order to silence your scream. Distantly, you could register the beast of a bodyguard you brought with you subduing the assailant. You could only focus on not sobbing as you twitched on the ground.

Fuck, that hurt. 

You blanked out for a hot minute, blinking awake to the feeling of something cold. You groaned, fingers twitching as ice was being pressed into your hands, stinging you back into focus. You meet dark eyes, clearly unimpressed with your episode. “I thought Jujutsu Tech taught their students better.”

“They don’t tase us!” You whisper-yelled at him.

He threw his hand up in a ‘whatever’ gesture. “Maybe they should start.” 

“Um, I’m sorry to interrupt, but what the fuck do you want?” A hoarse voice came from a corner of the room and you gaped at Riko Amanai, who, courtesy of Toji, was duct taped into one of her own chairs. Her maid, who tried to smother a response through her own gag, was some distance away from her, bound head to toe. 

“Oh my god! Toji, why did you even bring duct tape?” 

“I didn’t, it’s hers; found it in a drawer while you were out,” He walked over and pulled Riko’s chair over to you, the sound of the wooden legs squeaking across the floor, a horror at this time of night. 

“Look, Riko,” You try to the best of your ability to give her a meaningful look. “We’re here to protect you.”

She shook her head. “By breaking into my home?”

“Yes-!” You started, a little too enthusiastically. Reel it in. “Weeeell no, it's just the only way that we could have made contact without alerting anyone’s suspicion,” You’re fairly certain you only seemed crazy. 

“By breaking into my home?! ” She emphasized. 

Seeing you weren’t getting anywhere with this, you switched directions. “You see, I came from the future– no, that doesn’t make sense. I’m descended from a clan that has the ability to alter time?”

Riko only seemed more horrified. “You’re crazy, aren’t you?”

You breathe in and out, choosing to just redo the situation instead; first impressions are important, after all. 

Or so you thought, after having been tased another two times. Yes, this is the fourth time. 

“Ladies first?”

You shake your head instead, “How about gentlemen first?”

This way he’s the one being tased and not you, a perfect plan really, and it was all going perfectly well until you heard a sickening snap– 

Oh, god damnit. 

“DID YOU KILL HER?”

“No, I think this is just her maid,” he trailed off, picking the small body up. “Hm, maybe I did.”

After four more retries and one small house fire, you chose instead to yell in the room before coming in. It’s polite to knock, after all. “HELLO, HI, I’m here to save your life! Please don’t tase me! I can see the future! For instance you’re gonna come from the left and you have duct tape in your second drawer! If you please let me in, I can prove it!” 

The light in the living room turned on, revealing Riko and her maid, both armed with a taser behind the glass. You knew you felt two at once at some point! 

“Come in then,” The little girl threatened meekly. “I don’t know what kind of weirdo busts into an apartment in the middle of the night with some thug and just has pure intentions, but if it gets you the hell out of here- so be it.” 

Toji speaks softly so that only you can hear him. “How many tries did it take you to get to yelling?” 

You only elbow him in response. 

A little while later, after a short trip to the kitchen, you stand proudly and hold a piece of toast out to them. 

Riko only stared at you. “That’s a piece of burnt toast.”

“Yes, now watch closely,” You focus on the bread, reversing time until it flops over in your fingers. “See! I turned it back into bread!”

“What do I have to do with bread?” Her lips curled in disgust. 

You grin awkwardly, “‘Cause if you don’t listen to me, then you’re toast.” 

Toji placed a hand on the maid's shoulder as she began to reach for her weapon. 

With a little more careful explaining and a lot of patience, you were able to convince Riko to follow your plan. The both of you sat on the balcony, drinking tea as Toji and Kuroi discussed the logistics of the plan. You gave her a small smile as you rejoiced in the success of scum-saving, “Are you excited?”

She gave you a look of confusion, “What do you mean?”

“You get to live a normal life if this all pans out as I expect it to,” You took a sip from the cup, leaning back and admiring the city view. “I mean, it won’t be the city life you’re used to, but you don’t have to worry about any stupid cult or plasma bullshit.” 

There’s a beat of silence and you began to apologize, feeling as if you might’ve overstepped, “I’m sorry, Gojo talked to me before about your final days in the last life; you just wanted to be a normal girl–” You startle as you feel her arms come around your neck, Riko burying her face into your shoulder. 

“Thank you, Y/N-san.” 

You shift your mug to one hand, wrapping your arm around her in a half hug. “I’m excited for this future.” 

You’re escorted back to the school by Toji, stopping just short of the barrier. Looking up at him, you shake your head in disbelief. “Call me crazy, but I feel like you actually care about this mission.” 

The man only gave you a toothy grin before turning, leaving you to go God-knows-where for the rest of the night. 

You trudged back to the dorm, looking up to your window that measured roughly two meters above you. You exert the energy necessary to jump, but your fingers slip the ledge, sending you falling back on your feet. You swayed as you tried your best to stay awake, yawning into your hand. Redoing the night eight times was enough to have your ass in the grass until morning, but you sorely missed your bed. 

Having found your determination to try again, you bent your legs, letting out a short yelp as you grabbed hold of your windowsill. You groaned, not exactly having the momentum to pull yourself up. Before you could let go, a hand shot out of the dark, grabbing ahold of your wrist.

You started to scream, another set of hands suddenly grabbing you by your ankles. “What the fuck?! Why?! WHY?!” It was cut short as you were sent reeling through your window, rolling forward onto something… or someone. Too afraid to open your eyes, you curled into a ball, body still on top of one of your assailants.

Laughter soon reached your ears, and then you felt it. The body beneath you was laughing. You cracked an eye open, slightly relieved to find out it was merely Geto Suguru. “W-What’s so funny?! Why are you in my room?!”

More laughter came from behind you, and you whipped your head back. Gojo Satoru, in all his fucking glory, sat against your window. His knee was propped up, arm leaning over it as he snickered. “It’s pretty amusing. Here's a better question: why weren’t you?”

“Y/N… we told you, seeing a man like that only leads to trouble.” Geto started to help you up, hand gently guiding your back as you moved to stand.

“I... wasn’t…” You felt strange, almost like you were hearing yourself in slow motion. No, you were just talking really slow. 

“Oh yeah?” Gojo moved to close your window, the doors snapping shut. “Then what, pray tell, were you doing outside of school grounds? You had us worried sick! Something could’ve happened to you! What if you got hurt?”

“Got….” You started, turning to glance at him, puzzled. “Hurt?” 

Your vision went black, and the only thing you could hear was the wind whipping past your ears, and the rush of blood to your head. 

And the only thing they could hear?

Was the sound of your fat ass head smacking the wooden floor boards.

Chapter Text

You squeezed your eyes and threw your arm over your face, the harsh light filtering through your lids. The room you were in smelled horrendous, like a nicotine addict had been locked in here for months and told to “go at it”. Hell, you swore that someone was smoking even now. 

Sucking in a breath, you quickly sat up and brought a hand to your forehead as you groaned. 

“Shoko?” 

You looked through your fingers to see your friend, her body leaning against the window sill, one hand propped under her face up and the other holding a burning cigarette. “Well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Or should I say Cinderella? With you staying out past midnight and all.”

You winced. Even the best laid plans can have their folds. “How did I get here?”

“Your boys brought you in,” putting out her cigarette, she stretched her arms above her head and yawned. “So I’ve been looking after you all night.” 

“Oh?”

She snickered, “Yeah, it was…”

The two of them shared a look of horror before instinctively dropping to their knees, Geto moved to pull your shoulders up, instructing Gojo to take you by the legs. “Let’s take her to Shoko.”

Gojo nodded, the two of them moving in tandem to carry you to Shoko’s room, fortunately not far as it was right next to yours. He set your feet down, knocking loudly and rapidly on her door. “Shoko! Open up or I’m breaking in!”

They heard someone swearing, the sound of Shoko tumbling from the bed to hurry and yank the door open, scolding them in the process. “You will not be doing shit. Why are you guys even up?” She stuck her head in the hall to glare at Geto, but her mouth fell open as she saw you wrapped in his embrace. “WHAT DID YOU GUYS DO?”

“We didn’t do anything! The idiot went out by herself and came back looking like death warmed over,” Gojo threw his arm in defense. “Would you please look at her?”

She stepped aside to allow them entrance, the duo crowding into the room while Geto lifted you onto the bed. He covered his nose as he set you down. “Shoko, you even smoke in here?”

The girl in question rolled her eyes, “Open a window if you’re that bothered by it.” She approached the bed and held out a hand so that it slightly hovered your chest. “Aside from a nasty concussion, it seems that she just exhausted herself by using her curse technique.”

You purse your lips, looking away from her. “I’m sure they have a lot of questions.”

Shoko nodded, “I’m technically instructed to keep you under strict house arrest, but I never once agreed to that and I’d like my bed back.” 

You attempted to stand on your feet, ultimately failing and falling back into your friend's arms. 

“Hey, I didn’t say you had to leave now.” She chastised, shaking her head like a disappointed mother. “I’d like an explanation before you make another escape. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were avoiding me.” 

“Not you!” You waved your hands in front of you, panic filling your tone. “Gojo and Geto, sure, but I’d never give you the silent treatment!” You plead your case, pouting.

Shoko only hummed in response. “Speaking of those assholes, they were sent out on a mission this morning. We finally get to have some girl time–”

“Actually, Shoko…” If looks could kill, you’d be dead. “I got a letter in the mail saying my grandma wanted me back home for a bit for her 105th birthday...” This technically wasn’t a lie, she did send that letter, but you initially had no intention of going back to that town unless it was explicitly necessary. “So, I’ll just be gone for a week, sorry…” You trailed off as she glared at you. 

“You do realize it’s not summer break yet, right? Missing a whole week of classes seems a bit extensive.” Shoko didn’t seem entirely convinced.

“Well- it’s coming up. So what if I miss a few classes! It’s not like they're gonna hunt me down and force me to make-up seat time!” The irony nearly killed you. Yaga-Sensei would 100% make you do that. Having removed yourself from her arms, you swayed for a bit before making your way to the door. “Despite that- Thank you for healing me! I really appreciate it, but I gotta get packing.” 

Shoko began to say something, but stopped and instead sighed in defeat. “Just come back in time before whatever wounds you get send you beyond a place I can bring you back from.” 

Rounding the corner of the door frame you give one last apologetic smile, “I’ll owe you!”

Laughing, Shoko threw herself on her bed for some much needed sleep. “Yeah, whatever.”

After throwing clothes into a duffle bag, you raced out of your dorm, forgoing the window this time. 

Truthfully you had a couple of days before you picked up Riko, but you needed to be nearby at all times in the event that something went haywire. 

You and Toji planned to meet up at a set location so that you could stake out the mission. You resolved yourself to 5 shitty days being stuck in a van with that man but you didn’t imagine this . 

“Toji, why are your kids in the back seat?” You locked eyes with a pissed 7 year old Megumi sucking on a juice box. 

He waved his hand nonchalantly, “You said you’d take them in, so I went and picked them up.”

“Toji, that is next week , what are we gonna do with children in the car?!” You say shrilly. 

He gestured for you to get in and you begrudgingly did so, with as much disapproval you could muster. “They got evicted, what else could I do?”

“Maybe get a babysitter?”

“You haven’t paid me yet.”

You stare at him, bewildered. There was no way one of the best assassins in the world was broke, he had to have something . As you went to reply, something hit you in the side of your face, dropping on the floorboard. You leaned over, picking it up to find that it was a juice box? Whipping around you find yourself face to face with Megumi, who was strongly resisting 

Tsumiki attempted to pull him back, but the kid was pointing wildly at you. “I want another one.”

First off. Adorable. Second off. You were gonna leave him on the side of the road yourself. 

You see the juicebox pack at your feet and toss him a Mixed Berry, which Tsumiki grabs and uses the straw to pierce the foil at the top for him before handing it back. Too cute. 

You went to buckle your seatbelt, ill prepared for the sudden movement of Toji slamming on the gas as you’re flung back in your seat. You looked over in aggravation, a sly smirk on his face as he weaved the car in between lanes.

He gave you a smile full of mock sympathy. “My bad. The tracker I placed on Kuroi was getting out of range.”

Thank god for Shoko’s healing ability, else you’d be puking at the window onto unsuspecting bystanders. Peering behind you to check on the kids, you found them unbothered by the car's rough maneuvering. Megumi even did his signature ‘brooding’ stare, which only looked like a soft pout. 

The next few days passed in a blur and you eventually took over the task of driving in place of Toji. You insisted on doing so after he sped past a cop and handed him a very clear fake ID, though the man seemed too intimidated to say anything.

Toji’s role had come through various times through this endeavor, his bloodstained hands evidence enough to the dead curse-users that laid in his wake. He had given short explanations, mentioning an attack on Riko, which he had dealt with accordingly. It gave you chills, really, to see a man so detached from the prospect of death. No wonder he had mercilessly tore apart your friend's life before, this was all in a day's work for him.

Toji Fushiguro was an absolute badass.

Following the upcoming date of your mission, Tsumiki took to you quickly and Megumi, being the jealous brat that he was, tried everything to prove that he was better than you. He did so by giving some not-so-helpful criticism of the situation. 

“We’re gonna kidnap a teenage girl? That’s gross.”

“For a kid that could be in a cardboard box with ‘Free Kittens! Doesn’t Bite!’ on the front, you sure know how to be unappreciative.” You snap back at him, irritable after staying awake 26 hours. 

Toji said nothing in reply as he cut his nails in the passenger seat, “Tsumiki, do we have any anpan left?”

She hummed in agreement as she fished one out of the bag and gave it to him.

“You’re the best daughter I never had.”

You and Megumi made a noise of disgust, both throwing each other a glance in mutual understanding. You had grown quite fond of Megumi, having found him at this age in your last life. 

Gojo, having taken him in, wasn’t the most responsible caretaker– you found yourself constantly taking over the position. Megumi Fushiguro was attached to you as well, growing into the kind, respectable teenager you knew him to be. You missed that, truly. You never really understood just what you had with him, until it stood in front of you, possessed by Ryoumen Sukuna. It was clear you weren’t doing this just to save Gojo Satoru from a grim demise, you were going to save everyone as well. Megumi Fushiguro deserved that, even if he was being a spoiled brat. 

In the distance, you watched Gojo and company leave the building from your car. You twisted the key, engine flaring awake as you started the car to begin following them. To your dismay, your phone began to ring in your pocket. You flipped it open with ease, not even taking the time to register the caller ID until you heard his voice. 

“Obi-chan! Have you been behaving?” You could see Gojo’s posture shifting as they waited for their car to come. 

You focused on maintaining an even voice. “Yeah! I’m just hanging out with Shoko.”

“Really? Geto’s on the phone with her right now and she said you went home for your grannie’s– what was it? 105th birthday?” His voice took on a dangerous edge as he caught you in your lie. “What old bird is still kicking it at that age?”

You clicked your tongue as you ignored the jab. “I’ll have you know that the Obinata clan has been known to have long life spans.”

“Well clearly not all of them–”

You hung up the phone before he could continue, throwing it behind you in a blind rage. Sure enough it rang again, but you made no move to pick it up. Unfortunately, Megumi did. 

His little voice carried the maximum amount of sass into the simple phrase, “Hello.”

You twisted in the driver’s seat, clawing at him as you tried to get the phone out of his hand. 

Megumi unbuckled his seatbelt to avoid you and crawled over the second row of seats into the back. “No, Y/N isn’t here anymore.”

“I dunno.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, creep?”

You could tell the conversation wasn’t going well. This was amplified when Megumi slammed the phone shut and threw it back at you. “He’s a dick.”

You screech indignantly, “Who taught you that word!” 

He scowled and pointed to his father, nonchalantly chowing down on his pastry. “Oh, of course. ”

The phone buzzed again and you answered without a word, waiting for the other party to speak. 

“Another thing! Your mom is so poor, she chases the garbage truck with a grocery list– ”

“My mothers dead.” You stated bluntly. 

Gojo gasped, “Wait, put the kid back on the line!”

“Absolutely not,” You grit out. “There’s no coming back from that, buddy.”

He whined in response, but as he went to talk Toji leaned over and spoke, “Can we get tanghulu?” Goddamnit Toji Fushiguro. 

“Who’s that?” He deadpans. 

A part of you wanted to be honest and say ‘a muscular 188 cm baddie’, but you held your tongue. “I’m babysitting.”

“What kind of kid sounds like he says ‘it’s five o’clock somewhere’?”

You tried to change the subject. “How’s Geto?” 

“I’m fine. Who are you with Y/N-chan?” A smooth voice comes through the speaker and you see Gojo and Geto with their heads together, both listening into the conversation. Panicked that you may let something slip, you slap Toji’s thigh. That was not enough to persuade him into action, so you lock eyes with your only hope. Megumi.

How do you defeat two brats? With the peak form of brat: the moody . 

You mouth please at Megumi and he understands immediately, as if his life was built for this moment. He signals for the phone and you pass it to Tsumiki who gives it to him. He takes the cell and inhales deeply. “Fuck off.”

Then he turns the phone off. 

You sit there shocked and you see the two do the same, Gojo staring down at his phone puzzled and Geto using his phone to call you instead. He must be sent immediately to voicemail judging by his posture, but Riko comes in with the save as she pulls the both of them into the car that finally arrived. 

With that, Megumi had climbed back over the seat and returned to brooding towards the window.

45 missed calls from your friends and a day later, the perfect opportunity presented itself for the two of you to spur into action. Doing this left a sour taste in your mouth, but you employed one of Kenjaku’s underhanded tricks from before. The same one that had fooled Gojo into the prison realm. 

Using a crowded substation as cover, the atmosphere stopped Gojo and Geto from using their curse techniques. Being in public with no time to put up a veil, the sorcerers were truly reliant on their physical prowess to get through this part of their mission. You, unfortunately, had other plans in store for them which might land them in some much needed therapy. 

You and the kids, Tsumiki and Megumi, had chosen the maintenance point of the subway tunnel as your hiding spot. Toji was near the opening, waiting with a plastic body bag filled with an unfortunate assassin who matched Riko’s measurements. 

The kids refused to be left in the car for this, and only grew more and more traumatized by you and their guardian. 

“Leaving kids in the car is a crime, y’know.” Megumi stated so matter-of-factly. 

“Kid, everything I'm doing at this point is enough to land me on death row. Work with me here” You sighed, shaking your head.  

“Whatever you need us to do, Y/N, we can help with.” Tsumiki touched your hand reassuringly, choosing to smile at you. 

“Weeeeell,” You started, a nervous laugh bubbling in your throat. “What would be great is, uh.. So…” You struggled for the words to say. “There's a body. Like, a dead one. Super dead. Unrecognizable-”

“Gross, we get it, get to the point please..” Megumi groaned out, hand coming to push his hair out of his face. He sounded just like his damn father. 

“Well- we’re gonna throw it at an oncoming train and a girl might get hit and-”

“Hold on a damn second, you fucking freaks are going to kill the girl you’ve been trying so hard to protect?” Megumi seemed exasperated, jaw slack in shock as he looked at you. He was a smart boy. 

“Megumi-! Language..” Tsumiki chastised, glancing back up at you questionably. She doubted this plan too. 

“Not exactly-” You dejected, squatting down to their level. “Yes, someones getting hit by a train, and yes, someones going to die- but I can promise you, as gruesome as it seems, I'll fix everything.”

“....I'm starting to realize why you and the old bastard are friends.” Megumi huffed, crossing his arms. “I'm surrounded by sadists.”

“H-hey?! What the hell, Megumi! I am NOT going to be lumped in with your father-”

“Not my dad.” He quickly corrected you, his sneer turning into a scowl. 

You tried to explain that this wasn’t something a child should see, but they seemed nonplussed at your explanation. Thus… landing you here. 

This morning had been like any other, stopping by at a coffee shop to nauseously sip at your double shot skinny-vanilla latte. Sleeping the night before had been a challenge, guilt weighing on your mind, but you needed as much energy as you could. For such a normal start to anyone's morning, you lightly cursed at yourself, feeling as if you’d throw it up now. This day was anything but normal, and you were fucking nervous. 

You watched as the tracks in front of you started to shake, a low whistle of a train echoing throughout the tunnel.

“‘Cause if you don’t listen to me, then you’re toast.” How ironic that that had become the plan. 

You had spent hours negotiating at her apartment, conforming a plan as to exactly how this would happen. You felt conflicted when you thought about it, feeling that you took advantage of Riko’s good will, but there truly wasn’t anything ‘safer’ that you could come up with.

The majority of routes you came up with could easily be stopped by Gojo. You wanted to do everything in your power to completely avoid another Toji v. Gojo battle, so this was the best you could come up with. 

Even if it got out of hand, you were confident you could reset time back enough to call Kuroi and stop her. 

If the plan was going as it should, at this very moment, Riko would be running ahead of Gojo and Geto, only to slip off the ledge as the train… 

Several screams filtered down the tunnel and you knew she had gone through with it. 

The train conductor should automatically break and allow for a small window of time for the next part of the plan. Regardless, you stood up and started pacing as you waited for Toji to bring her to you, after he swapped the body for the mangled one currently in his arms. 

“How is it warm?” You speak with morbid fascination coloring your tone. 

“Do you really want that answer?”

You gave it some thought before shaking your head. “Actually, I’d rather not know.”

You smelt them before you saw them, the heavy stench of blood alerting you to get into position. Having assumed the worst, you warned the children to turn away, the two of them following your directions as you heard footsteps approaching the maintenance platform. 

Toji, the beast that he was, effortlessly jumped onto the small platform with you. In his hands were the many mangled, bloody pieces of your former friend Riko Amanai. 

Splaying Riko’s body on the ground, Toji made a sound akin to disgust. It was clear that even in his line of work, this might’ve been the worst mission he had been tasked with. Your breath was shaky, surprising yourself as you stared at her corpse. You had begun to doubt yourself, knowing you had only used this ability on curses and small objects before. 

Dismissing all negative thoughts from your mind, you reached forward to clutch her arm. 

Grabbing her skin, you breathed in again, this time more focused. The appendage in your hand began to glow, waves of your cursed energy supplying its mutation. Like the curse in the casino, you began to revert Riko’s timeline. The atoms slowly pieced themselves together, screams filling your mind almost like a memory. You saw it before you felt it, a searing, heart stopping pain that enveloped your whole body. With no control, you cried out, the view of a train racing towards your falling figure. You squeezed your eyes shut, only to open them, your ability still active on her corpse. 

Tsumiki gagged in the corner while Megumi only stared in shock, both of them eventually having turned to watch what you were doing. They knew it was going to be rough, but they didn’t expect anything this terrifying. 

You concentrated more, watching as Riko’s body began to stitch itself back together. With her body’s repair, no marks existed, erasing any evidence that could supply anything had happened. Her face came alive, blue eyes snapping open, followed by a rush of air flying into her throat. She reached a hand out, nearly shouting something incoherent if it weren’t for the fact that she was breathless. Her face showed the final emotions she had before she died: pain, fear, and determination. 

She sat up with a sharp gasp and you covered her mouth as she went to scream again, hugging her as she locked eyes with you and began to sob. 

You looked up at Toji to give him a thumbs up, an amazed look on your face, almost as if you surprised yourself. Your joy didn’t last long, your smile quickly freezing when you saw his arm bent at a strange angle. It was mutilated, and you were sure you saw bone. Your expression faltered, quickly replaced with one of worry. “What–?”

“The train wasn’t stopping, so I had to step in.”

You lurched forward to grab him, intending on healing him, but he was faster as he sidestepped you. “None of that, I don’t plan on allowing you to do any tricks on me.”

You went quiet, and suddenly, you started to cry. The dam behind your eyes finally decided to break, and you didn’t dare stop it. Toji’s face morphed into one of confusion, his good hand reaching out to address your sudden change in behavior. As the tears came, your smile conquered once more, small laughs escaping as you heaved. Your plan had fucking worked, and Riko had been successfully saved. 

“...If I knew saying no was going to send you into a manic episode, I would’ve just let you heal the damn thing. Fuckin’ psycho….” Toji muttered, but there was no hint of malice behind it. “Kid, we’re waiting on your instruction.”

“Yeah, Y/N-San, what's the plan?” Riko had chimed in this time, wiping her eyes clear of her own tears. 

You blinked, staring over the four misfits in front of you; A homeless man who was still in his sweatpants from the night before (spoiler alert, he wore them the night before that too), his two troubled children, and a now cult-free teenager. 

You nodded, lightly stumbling back on your feet as you balanced yourself. “Right. Let’s go home.”

“What home?” Megumi’s sarcasm was back to bite you in the ass. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but I'm getting the vibe we’re all dirt poor.”

A small chuckle escaped you as you turned to look at him. “Starting today, you’re all official Obinata Clan members.” It seemed you were going to rebuild the very family you were blamed for destroying. 

“Speaking of dirt poor…” Toji started, pulling out his phone. “Where’s my sixty million yen, hah?”

Chapter Text

As dawn crept across the horizon, the valley that was your childhood home awakened. The Aino Mountains, home to the infamous Obinata Clan, was contoured by soft mist as it settled along its treeline. It was serene, like you had remembered, as the sound of birds overhead flooded your senses. Their melodies weaved into the fabric of morning, small feathers cascading down to the forest floor. 

The trail you followed was fragile. Scattered rocks and stepping stones had been overtaken by vines, twisting vigorously as they retreated into the woods. Above you, the sky was a canvas of pastels, the peaks of the mountains etched in indigo in its wake. 

The sun was a shy artist, the gates of light cracking open to reveal hints of apricot and rose. As for the clouds, they seemed to breach downwards around you, covering the ground. Had it been nighttime, you were sure the atmosphere would feel much different, but the gorgeous views were enough to quell your anxiety. 

Through this path, you would come to find the abandoned village that used to prosper in your past. The change in scenery wasn’t appreciated, as it felt haunted. You vividly could remember the negative aura it gave off before, but the lack of it made it feel even worse. You felt out of place, almost like in this part of the world, time truly had stopped. 

Megumi was asleep, slumped over the shoulders of his father, who carried him (albeit against his better judgment). Tsumiki yawned, her hand clasped tightly with your own. She hadn’t said much, choosing to enjoy the silence of dawn with you, letting out a few gasps of surprise when she saw something that piqued her interest. 

Riko was the only one who seemed truly awake, eyes wide with a sense of adventure as she traveled ahead of you. Everything caught her attention, legs quick to carry her to every animal and object she wished to greet. She truly was a normal girl now, beginning her journey to a normal life. You didn’t have the heart to call her back to you, knowing she was safe within the confines of your childhood estate.

You hadn’t given most of this a second thought, almost like it was second nature to you. You hadn’t wished to return to this place, if you were being honest with yourself. As much as you appreciated the time your grandmother put into your development as a child, the memories that flooded your very empty home were enough to chase you farther away from her. As beautiful as it was, even pretty things had their dangers.

You eventually all came to a stop, hesitation filling your gut as you stared ahead. The monastery had certainly looked better, but even in its withering state, it truly rivaled that of any modern construction the busy streets of Tokyo had to offer. 

The Obinata Temple stood high, spirals and columns supporting its gigantic weight, akin to the heavy feeling on your shoulders. 

You let out a shaky breath, garnering the attention of your party. They turned to you, waiting for your next move.

“Are you okay, Y/N-Sama?” Tsumiki nudged you, eyes flicking between you and the shrine. 

“I’m just fine, Tsumiki.” You nodded, sparing her a small smile. “And please, stop calling me that, I'm not that old…” That smile fell into a grimace as you heard Toji’s small laugh that was most certainly directed towards you. 

“Oh wow…” Riko stepped in front of you, having caught up from her former distractions. “It’s beautiful! Who knew you lived somewhere this nice, I totally assumed something at the start of our friendship-”

Just like that, the peaceful vibe you had accumulated plummeted into one of annoyance. “What the hell does that mean, Riko?” 

She sputtered a laugh, going to cover her face. “Just that– I totally got the vibe you were a freeloader!” 

Toji snickered, throwing you a look, his eyebrows raising slightly. “I mean, she’s not wrong–”

“Says you?! I don’t like the inclination that I'm being teamed up on?!” You whined, throwing your hand to your forehead in exaggeration. “After all I've done! I’m a victim–”

“Sorry to break it to ya, sweetie, but I accumulated a large sum of money last night– I’ve got no reason to freeload.”

“Yeah, and what guardian angel do you have? Oh– wait, let's check– ME!” The sound of the temple doors slammed open, ripping the attention away from the current conversation.

“Y/N, Is that you?!” Your grandmother's voice echoed across the clearing, traveling down the stairs to you. “After months of nothing but letters and clothes– you decide to show up?!”

You cringed, her voice akin to a cat on a chalkboard. “...Granny Obi..” You started, but were silenced as she started down the stairs. You screamed in horror, her frail old figure making its way towards you. “NO! No stay where you are! We’ll come to you!”

You were quick to usher your group forward, hand pulling the front gate open. 

As you stepped through the weathered, wooden garden gate, the air thickened with incense. The courtyard, in its overgrown state, still managed to look pleasing to the eye. Gravel was planted under your feet, ancient stone lanterns cradled by greenery along the path. Their moss-covered surface bore witness to countless seasons in your absence. The old cherry trees, as delicate as long lost prayers, had just bloomed for the spring season. Petals fell, only to be picked up by the wind and carried somewhere you dreamed of following.

You remember your older brother had told you a story, about how each petal resembled an unanswered wish. When the wind would carry it, it meant it had finally been granted, and someone’s dream had come true. Ever since that moment, spring had become your favorite season.

You took one step, foot coming in contact with the stairs that separated you and your grandmother. You bit your lip, eyes narrowing in aggravation as you sped up the steps. You knew your grandmother, and she didn’t intend on welcoming you home with a warm hug and a request for tea. This woman was vengeful, and she was pissed with you. 

Before you could make your way past her, intending on sprinting into the Main Hall (the Hondo,  your grandmother would correct you), her cane shot out and slammed into your chest. The collision was enough to knock the air out of you, sending you spiraling down the stairs in a ball. You flattened at the base of the stairs, wheezing uncontrollably as you sent a glare her way. 

Riko and the others stood, more confused than anything at your apparent display of immaturity. Was this the same girl that saved their lives less than twenty four hours ago? It sure didn’t look like it. 

“That…biiitch–” You cried out, moving to sit up with Tsumiki’s help. The smaller girl moved to check over your face, using her sleeve to wipe off some of the dirt that had smudged your skin. “Granny Obi– why did you do that?!”

“You think you can just come home with no birthday present?!” Oh, so this was about her 105th birthday invitation. 

“Hahah- That’s where you’re wrong!” You cackled, bringing yourself to your knees. “Feast your eyes on my children!” You stood up without thinking of the words that left your mouth, much less the inclination that these children were indeed not yours, and instead Toji’s. You paled, eyes widening as you realized your mistake.

“What's up, grandma .” Toji lifted his fingers in a mock salute, winking her way.

“Oh.” Your grandmother’s face dropped, dumbfounded. Her eyes lit up, and suddenly, she leapt from the top of the stairs, eliciting a scream from your throat as she landed roughly on your back. Holy fucking shit, you had to have broken something. 

“A grandson in law?! Great grandchildren?! This is AMAZING and a hundred percent WORTH the no contact–” She was fawning over Toji now, geta’s crushing into your back with each excited step she took.

“O-off–” You pleaded, reaching for Tsumiki or Riko’s help. “Get her off me–!”

“Well aren’t you just handsome!! And here I thought my granddaughter was useless! I knew she was going to use her good looks to trap such a fine looking man– of course, you’re a little old for what I pictured– but who am I to judge!” She laughed, throwing her head back. “I'm a hundred and five, but trust me when I say I don't look a day over fifty!” 

Toji cleared his throat, now slightly uncomfortable with the misunderstanding that presented itself. As much as he liked to make your life hell, he was sure your grandma was going to leave permanent damage to your back. 

“He’s–” You were cut off by your own short cry of pain, before your hand came to wrap around the old lady’s cane. “Not my husband!” You pulled it, and she quickly jumped off of you, shaking your hand off her cane.

You sat up, breathing relentlessly as you shot her a glare, daring her to try something else.

She seemed to nod in understanding, an ‘o’ shape forming on her lips. “Oh… I think I understand.” She nodded, before the cane came up to hit Toji in the face. 

“THEY’RE BASTARD CHILDREN!” Insults hurled themselves towards Toji, the man now brunting the onslaught of Granny’s rage.

“Damn, this lady needs an exorcism...” Riko whispered under her breath, judgment etched on the crease of her brows.

To Riko’s misfortune, it seemed she heard that.

“I’ll have you KNOW–” Granny Obi turned towards her, cane outstretched in her hand.

“No, no, no–! Let’s calm down, okay?!” You placed your hands out in front of you. “I’ll explain everything– please–” You fully intended on begging if it meant she’d stop. 

It was as if this lady was fucking bipolar, because as soon as you said that, her eyes lifted in a cheeky smile. “Alright, whatever you say!” She turned back to the stairs, seemingly frail body hobbling up them. 

Toji threw you a look, almost like he was betrayed you hadn’t told him the details of his children’s roommate situation. This bitch had lost it. 

Due to the noise, Megumi stirred, releasing a small ‘die’ in annoyance. He was hard to take seriously with that sweet voice, so honestly, it was just really cute. 

He blinked awake, face moving to hide in his fathers neck as the sun’s glare reached over the mountain peaks. If he was fully conscious, you were sure he’d bite his father in reaction to being this close. 

Your granny hummed a familiar tune, your hand finding her shoulders as you attempted to assist her. She quickly swatted you with her free hand. “Don't start caring now, you ungrateful brat..” 

She grumbled, but it was clear she didn’t mean it. She appreciated the gesture.

The five of you, accompanied by your grandmother, stepped into the Hondo. 

Crossing the threshold, incense once again enveloped you, the smell stronger now as you stepped closer to its source. The floors were an ancient wood, worn down as they had been polished by countless footsteps. It used to be a place of devotion. Sliding doors adorned every wall, paper thin and nearly translucent, revealing glimpses of their inner sanctum.

As you came to a stop, your granny’s wilted fingers clasped one of the doors, abruptly slamming it with great strength. This door led to the heart of the temple. 

Where temples such as this would house an altar, this large room was filled with various clocks, each of them in complete stillness. The building’s wooden beams curved upward, embracing the face of a large clock. It ticked, both hands glowing as they rotated around its surface. In the clocks’ glass reflection, you stared down at yourself, the floor graced in the form of a sundial. 

You flicked your eyes down, taking a moment to relish in the nostalgia that flooded your brain. 

There was so much you blocked out from your childhood, and you had hoped to never revisit these memories. 

In your past life, you can't recall a time you ever did return. 

Your grandmother had died sometime into your third year, and your cousin had eventually become a fashion designer. As you knew it, you were the last Obinata sorcerer in existence. 

The absence of your brother was never solved, only believed to have succumbed to his illness he had contracted as a child before mercilessly killing the rest of your family. As to why he spared you, you truly didn’t know.

You avoided this place for this exact reason. It made you think. Your mind ran miles a minute, unable to come to a stopping point. Eventually, you would lose yourself, unable to rip yourself back to reality- which was what was happening now.

Your attention was snapped back to the present as Riko’s hand collided with your shoulder. “Hey, you okay? This place is totally wigging me out!” She smiled nonetheless, trying to lighten your obvious damped mood. 

“What's the point of having this many clocks if they don’t work?” Megumi scowled, now standing at Tsumiki’s side. He had fully woken up. “Seems like you're compensating for lost time.”

“What a wise boy.” Your granny cooed, a small tilt coming to her lips. “That’s exactly what it is!” 

“Or you’re just a hoarder…” He grumbled, face red in embarrassment at her compliment. 

“Oh, silly! I would get rid of them if I could!” She shook her head. “But, they all serve a purpose.” 

“Really?” Toji mused, thinking she was just delusional. “Like what?”

“Well..” She started, waddling over to a large grandmother clock, the pendulum swinging violently in its chamber. Unlike the ones around it, this one was ticking. “This one is mine.”

“With all due respect Granny,” Riko stepped forward, reaching her side as she went to look at it. “Aren’t all of these yours? Since you live here?”

“No.” Your voice came out without you willing it to. “All of these clocks belong to different members of our clan.” Your eyes traced over the walls, feet behind the other as you turned. 

“Why are some of them working, and the others aren’t?” Tsumiki questioned, following your eyes. 

“Because they're dead.” The words came out shallow, eyes void of feeling as you stared down at her. It was enough to give the poor girl chills, her body shrinking from your cold gaze. You hadn’t meant to sound like that, in fact, you didn’t want to talk about this at all. It’s like your body knew the answers without you having to think about it. 

“Ah…” Toji finally understood. “So, the ones that are ticking, mean the person they're connected to is alive.” It was more of a statement than a question, but you nodded in response, confirming his suspicions. 

“How cool.” Riko uttered, all of this jujutsu-shit being new to her. “How does that work? Do you just get a clock assigned to you at the baby shower, or?”

“It's more complicated than that.” Your granny nodded solemnly, eyes meeting your own. “This temple is imbued with cursed energy. As long as an existing blood relative of our clan is alive, the energy flowing in the walls of this monastery will continue to create clocks when a new one is born.” 

She gestured to the three hallways that centered themselves on each of the room’s walls, excluding the Main Hall you came down from. “We’ve been around for a long time dearie. In your free time, feel free to venture and count how many we have. I’ll be sure to quiz you.”

She nodded, her kind smile still evident on her face, despite the dark conversation. “Yes ma’am.”

“Oh, I do wish we were related! You’re delightful.” Your grandmother huffed a laugh, throwing a quizzical glance your way. “Y/N, We have yet to talk.”

“Oh. Right.” You nodded, swallowing roughly. “After I get them settled–” You flinched as you watched her eyes narrow. “I’ll explain everything. Promise.”

In the blink of an eye, her exaggerated grin was back on her face. “Alright! Sounds perfect! I might as well help you with the tour-” Her cane slammed down on the ground, twice. “And of course, when I say me, I really mean not me!” 

Soon enough, one of the sliding doors opened, revealing a familiar face. Your cousin, Kaoru Obinata, stood in all of their stunning glory. They were still very young, only being a year older than Megumi. 

Kaoru was every mother’s dream. The perfect, obedient child who never once complained or spoke back. Being raised with only women in their life, they grew to be very effeminate. Ever since they were young, people constantly mistook them for a woman, and they did nothing to insinuate they weren't. You never questioned it, sure it was due to some repressed trauma, or they truly were indifferent to the subject.

They cherished women in their life, and wanted nothing but to be exactly like them. So, there they stood, white yukata clutching their form. Their hair was nicer than the average child, long, silky, and neatly brushed in the back. The length of their hair grew shorter the closer it got to their face. They had bangs similar to that of a bowl cut, but the rest of the top layer of their hair stopped about the level of their chin. The back was in bilevel layers, uneven but precisely cut. 

You remembered them calling it something along the lines of ‘jellyfish’ style. 

Everything about them screamed high-maintenance; ranging from their clear, shiny skin, to the newest installation of women’s cultural fashion. That is what you had been spending your money on, by the way. So, you’d say their happiness was definitely worth it.

You had expected the look of surprise on their face as they spotted you, but what you hadn’t suspected was the pure, curious look on Megumi’s face. 

The first grader had wide eyes, red creeping up to his ears as he stared at your cousin. It was clear he didn’t know of Kaoru’s situation regarding their gender, though you were sure, knowing Megumi from before- that wouldn’t have mattered. Everything from their clothes, to their feminine expression- it was clear Megumi had found a type in your cousin. 

Kaoru spoke your name before walking towards you, each step rhythmic before they reached you. Like clockwork, their arms wrapped around your middle, face pressed into your stomach. 

You returned the gesture, leaning over them slightly. “It’s good to see you, little cousin.” You mused, patting their head. “Would you care to help me show our guests around? They’ll be staying with us now.”

Kaoru looked around, eyes narrowing slightly before taking an immediate interest in the two new girls. Tsumiki, not intimidated by their stare, waved. 

“I'm Tsumiki!” She stepped forward, dragging Megumi along by his arm. “It’s very nice to meet you. Thank you for having us, we really appreciate it– You have a beautiful home.” She stuck her hand out, expecting them to take it.

“Kaoru.” Hesitantly, they reached their hand out of the sleeve of their kimono, taking her hand. 

“Beautiful name! I love your hair– it’s so unique– you must take amazing care of it.” She shook it, nodding along with her words. “Oh-! And this is my little brother, Megumi–”

“I can introduce myself– introductions are stupid” The latter ripped himself out of her hold, scowling as he looked Kaoru up and down. Your cousin waited, expectantly. Megumi froze. 

“...My name is Megumi Fushiguro.” 

“Pleasure.” Your cousin spoke softly, reaching this time to shake Megumi’s hand.

“So, you’re telling me, this man and these three strange children are staying with me?” Your grandma sat across from you, knees against a pillow as she sipped from her tea. 

Your tea had grown untouched, and cold. “Yes, Grandmother.” Your voice was stern, but your mannerisms betrayed you. Anxiously, you toyed with the tips of your fingers, nails cracking under each other. “I’m sorry I didn’t reach out. I would’ve–”

“Oh, save it– I don't need your false promises–” Your grandma shook her head. “What matters now is that you’re here, understand? I’ve waited a long time for you to come around.”

“Yes, Granny Obi. I will be here when I can. This is insanely important to me.” Your voice didn’t waver but your eyes grew round with genuine emotion.

“It was about time.” She mused, closing her eyes as she thought to herself.

“About time..?”

“That you found somewhere you belong.”

Chapter Text

In every definition of the word, Gojo Satoru thought himself as the strongest, with Suguru being a close second. But there were instances where strength had no jurisdiction and accidents could happen with no way to stop them. 

They were trying to give Riko Amanai the experience of an average high school girl, so they easily agreed when she asked about using the substation. 

There had been next to no indication that anyone was after her, so he allowed for his guard to slip enough to enjoy her final days. She had run ahead, laughing joyfully, the two of them hanging back long enough to give her a head start.

He had never seen someone hit by a train before, much less trip onto the tracks. But Riko Amanai showed him how easy it could be. It stunned him that you could lose someone so quickly. 

To say he lost someone felt like an overstatement, because in the grand scheme of things, Riko Amanai was never his to lose. She was a random girl he was tasked with sacrificing to a fucking tree, so, why the hell did it hurt?

Gojo Satoru didn’t feel pain. No, in his right mind, he didn’t feel at all. He was the strongest .

Afterall, why would this be pain if this was the same way he felt when he saw you? Your indifference towards him fueled him with rage, no doubt. It was something he couldn’t explain. But to say it was pain? He wouldn’t believe it. He was aware of why you pulled away, which, in all honesty, made him all the more angry. He had been the one to push you so far away. He had brought this onto himself.

Geto moved first, racing to the tracks as Kuroi stood in shock. Gojo progressed through the crowd in an instant. The train conductor had managed to stop a little ways down the tunnel, so he had to squeeze between the car and wall to get through to Riko. 

Or what was left of her.

There was nothing, in fact, that could give an idea to who this person was. Who she was. Her skull had been crushed, limbs thrown widely around the tunnel, staining the walls red. He had never seen so much of that color before, but he was sick of it. 

Her body was in pieces at the front of the train, and he roiled as he looked down and saw that his shoes were covered in the same red he had begun to hate. It was touching him. Limitless was the least of his concerns, but it was touching him.

“Satoru!” Geto came in behind him, causing Gojo to turn with an unreadable expression on his face. As he looked at his best friend, he could see the moment where Geto assessed the situation for what it was. They held each other's gaze as two plains of understanding clashed together. 

Humor and apathy were a part of Gojo’s go-to, natural behavior. With his ability, there wasn’t much that he had to be concerned about, and he rarely experienced negative emotions. He knew that if he were to take this situation seriously, for what it was, he might do something he’d regret. So, he returned to his default state of being a smart ass. 

“I think we failed the mission.”

In a similar manner, Geto Suguru was poor at handling tragedy. It was almost that, in opposition to Gojo, he couldn’t think at all. So as he stood there, taking in the circumstances at hand, he automatically fell into his dissociative state at the sight of her body. He had no problem with looking at it, lips pressed into a tight line as he realized that there was nothing they could do to bring her back.

Placing a hand onto his forehead, he breathed in as if he was on the verge of never breathing again, and he took action to clean up the scene. 

The first thing they had to do was contact the appropriate authorities, though, it was humiliating to think that her cause of death hadn’t been caused by a curse, but by her own stupidity . “You call Yaga-sensei; I’m going to throw up a veil.”

After ensuring that the veil was in place, he turned to go to speak with the police that had arrived on scene. He was doing the best he could to show any emotion other than the numbness that was overtaking him. But, as he turned away, something in the corner had caught his eye. 

Almost in a daze, he walked over, pupils shrinking at the object in front of him. Fragmented parts of a skull. His breathing picked up, chest rising and falling sporadically as he reached down. He told himself that it was fine, that it was meant to happen- but something about this seemed so unreal.

Picking up a chunk of the bone, he brought it to the light, eye’s narrowing as he broke from the fight in his mind. “Gojo?” he called out. 

“Yea– don’t touch it!” Gojo had strode over him, going to swat it out of Geto’s hold, but was stopped by a hand on his wrist. 

A section of hair hung down from his hand as he brought it closer to Gojo’s face, the latter shrinking back slightly. “Did Amanai’s hair have red highlights?”

Gojo froze, forgoing his disgust to look closer. “No.” His eyes narrowed, glasses slipping down the slope of his nose. “No, she did not.”

They shared a look, nodding in agreement just as an officer went to step into the veil.

Feeling the foreign body enter the area, they were quick to drop the evidence. Before they were seen, the duo headed back the way they came, forgoing the useless interaction altogether. Just like that, their retreating forms were nowhere to be seen by the authority that had just stepped into the veil. They had never been there at all.

Misato Kuroi appeared to be in just as many pieces as Riko, metaphorically speaking of course. 

The two stood next to her, Geto awkwardly patting her back as she sobbed. Gojo could only stare blankly at her, seeing through her act in the little details she had let slip through. 

For once, Gojo was angry with himself. Looking at the situation from an outside perspective, he could put the pieces together. How he didn’t notice before? He’ll never forgive himself for being so easily fooled. 

From what Gojo could tell, the inconsistencies in Kuroi’s behavior that day were of no coincidence. The woman had made no effort to go to Riko’s body, choosing instead to curl up on a bench in disbelief. It was strange, knowing she allowed her to run so far ahead in the first place. 

Kuroi had always been a nagging hag, almost too overbearing to Gojo’s standards, so why? Why would she suddenly not care as much? Especially in public, where anyone could be wandering? Thinking back on it, why hadn’t they cared as much? The entire jujutsu society was dependent on the Star Plasma Vessel’s assimilation with Tengen, so why didn’t he try harder?  

Throughout his speculation, there was one fact he didn’t need confirmation for; Kuroi seemed more tense than she had throughout the whole trip. 

He threw himself down onto the bench next to Geto, the latter nudging him for being indecent. It was laughable, as if he wasn’t just as disgusted by this mockery of a tragedy. 

“I just don’t know what I’m going to do without her…” Misato weeped into her hands, all the while maintaining even breaths. Gojo’s eyes focused on her back, pupils pulsating, almost as if they were mimicking her breathing. This bitch.

Gojo rolled his eyes as his phone buzzed, eyes snapping abruptly to the message that graced his feed. His teacher, ‘Yaga-Sensei’ as you called him, had texted. He could hear it now, in your sardonic, sweet tone- your respect for authority figures disgusted him, because what good had they done for you? 

The very thought of you made him bitter. He bit his lip, eyelids lowering as he read the message to no one but himself.

‘I’ll be waiting for you two at the school.’ 

He could feel the blood rush into his mouth, teeth subconsciously chewing at the inside of his cheek. His lips warped up into a smile as he tapped Geto on the shoulder, holding out his phone for him to read. 

They had left Kuroi at the station, which may appear callous at first glance, but even Geto couldn’t bring himself to spare her any more sympathy. Afterall, when they got further away, Gojo watched as the woman lifted her head– face dry of tears, eyes scanning for their presence. 

In the face of their absence, he saw as she stood– and simply walked away. Too bad two people couldn’t die that day. Faker.

To Gojo, this day seemed to go on forever. Needlessly so. 

They had been standing outside of the classroom for about forty five minutes, as Yaga spoke with the elders about the situation. He could hear as the frustration in his teacher's voice reached its peak and the resulting slam of the phone back into the receiver. 

He didn’t react as the door next to him flung open, though from the force in which it did, he should’ve. “Gojo! You’re first.”

“Taking turns, Sensei? Sounds dirty.” He tried to joke, his usual, sarcastic tongue taking control, but it was clear now wasn’t the time. There was no response but the firm hand that grasped his shoulder, and forcibly yanked him inside. 

Yaga marched him over to the chair in front of his desk, roughly placing him down. “Explain.” He stepped back, arms crossing over the other.

“Which part?” Gojo’s demeanor dropped, eyes flaring in slight vexation at his teacher’s accusatory tone. He truly didn’t expect this to be his fault, did he? What a joke.

“How the girl you two were supposed to be watching,” Flashes of Riko were brought to Gojo’s mind, and in the place of sadness, there was a red wave seething of rage. “-managed to get hit by a train a day before her assimilation.”

He would like to know that too. “She did seem a little stupid, I’m not sure she could read.” He said simply, like insulting a ‘dead’ girl wasn’t something to be frowned upon. He could imagine the dead rolling over in their grave to spite him, and instead of guilt, Gojo laughed. “Oh! Or maybe she’d rather be dead than give her body over to some old ass man.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands. He begged this man to challenge him, truly, as he felt the urge to snap. 

“Personally, I’d have killed myself way before that point.”

Yaga could only glare at him in barely concealed rage. “Someone died today, Gojo Satoru.”

For a moment, Gojo’s eyes were ripped away to focus on the windows. He could have sworn he could hear a child crying, the shrill, irritable sound ringing in his ears. His jaw clenched, an indescribable feeling settling in his gut. He hated this. 

The sun had begun to set, leaving only the deep blue of twilight. A shade similar to Riko’s hair. The idea of hair brought him back to the subway station, to the hair that had very obviously not been hers. This had been such an unprecedented turn of events. 

At Gojo’s clear disinterest in this pathetic excuse for an interrogation, a hand slammed on the desk in front of him, ripping him from his turmoil. “Gojo! Have some respect!”

Respect?

What about this ploy had been respectful? Set up and left to handle the consequences of a ‘failed’ mission? Forced to put up with this?

His eyes returned to those of his teacher, and he swore, by some strange feeling in his gut- he wanted to kill Masamichi Yaga. He had the power to do it. “Sorry, Yaga-sensei,” He felt sick using the same name as you, but he couldn’t stop himself. Not when his throat was holding back so much worse. 

“We were having a grand ol’ time in the city and she asked if we could travel using the subway. Which was a really stupid final wish, if you ask me.” He laughed, though it wasn’t funny to him at all. “Then the girl goes, ‘Come and catch me!’ then runs ahead of us.” 

It was like a stop motion movie, truly, and he knew from how happy she seemed to be- it had to be fake. No one with the purpose to die truly wants to live. “She went a little farther than we thought she would.” Just like how no one with the purpose to be used, wants to be useful.

“Do you genuinely lack any sympathy? You’re supposed to protect the weak when you’re stronger than them,” Yaga curled his lips in rage, over punctuating his consonants as he shook his head at his student. 

It had been an accident. For once in his life, he had lacked control over a situation. Without meaning to, he allowed that thought to slip from his lips. 

“It doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have left her side,” Yaga shook his head, as if that could do anything to convince Gojo he was wrong. 

He threw up his hands in a show of mock defeat, growing tired of this one sided conversation. “So, what now? What’s my punishment?”

Yaga faltered, noticing something different in the eyes of his student. Gojo Satoru had always been known to make irrational decisions, to say things he didn’t mean in the moment- but he didnt recognize this version of himself. This boy was hurting. 

“Go back to your dorm room for now. I’ll decide in the morning.” 

Gojo shot up to his feet, no sign of hesitation in his movement. He was quick to head for the door, hand paused on the knob as Yaga called out after him, “Tell Geto to come in next.”

“Certainly, sir.” He rolled his eyes, teeth biting down on his lip. He was glad his back was turned so he didn’t have to face any more reprimands.

As he stepped into the hall, he was met with Geto’s tired expression. “I’m next, right?” 

He nodded once. “I’ll wait for you here.”

His friend gave him a look of appreciation as he disappeared into the room. 

Gojo looked back at the door, then turned slowly to lean against the window sill of the opposite wall. He stared blankly, the sky growing darker by the second. He prayed to no one in particular, considering that he had never prayed before. He prayed that Geto would have the same self control that he did. 

The difference between the two of them had been simple. Geto was the one who would act on his thoughts, while Gojo could merely dream of it.

Geto had only been called into the classroom a handful of times, surprising to most how many times that he and Gojo stirred up trouble. Nonetheless, he knew the drill and smoothly sat down in the chair. He offered his teacher a pleasant smile, “Yes, Sensei?”

“I thought you were better than this.”

The smile fell off his face as he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh?”

“You have always been the voice of reason, I thought you would have been able to have a better control over the situation,” His teacher admonished him, leveling their gazes with scowl. 

Geto felt his hands begin to twitch, wanting nothing more to lean over and throttle the man for his tone. “I standby whatever Satoru may have told you; we had little say in what Riko Amanai was going to do.”

“That doesn’t matter– you don’t agree to traveling in a public space when your whole purpose is to keep the girl alive .” The word carried so much weight. Alive . She was alive alright, they just had to find out how and where.

“We were allowing her to live her final days as a normal teenage girl; we were being humane.” Geto surveyed his teacher's expression for any change, looking for an ounce of sympathy in those sunglasses. 

Instead, Yaga sat back in his chair and rubbed his face in irritation. “As much as it pains me to say this, there was a greater purpose to Riko Amanai’s life than being a girl.”

“So, you're saying she was a tool .” Geto bit out the words. “She’s dead and now she has no meaning?”

Yaga shook his head, “No, not that. She was a girl and she was alive, you should mourn her loss.”

“But we were marching her around like cattle meant for slaughter,” He snapped. “Her life essentially ended when she was born.” 

Yaga went to respond, and he did, but none of it had been audible to Geto’s ears.

He swore, from how hard his jaw was clenched, his teeth would shatter. Nothing could be said to justify the reasoning behind Riko Amanai’s sacrifice, he had made his mind up on day one. 

To Geto Suguru, Riko Amanai and Gojo Satoru had lived the same purpose. To be a tool. To be a martyr in a room full of undeserving sinners. Geto Suguru had never found himself to be a religious man, but at one glance, he could see the crucifix that was strung to Riko Amanai on their first meeting. 

Upon meeting Gojo, Geto had slowly watched overtime as the boy slowly unnailed himself from his own cross, ripping the nails out one by one. He had never seen something as beautiful as Gojo’s self discovery, and was equally astonished at the metaphorical flames that ate away at Gojo’s bindings, burning his crucifix to the ground. Arson had never been a crime he was itching to commit, but by god, Geto would be a criminal in every right. 

Gojo could play Jesus, but Geto would always be his Judas. 

He seemed to move robotically as he got to his feet, standing by the desk. Something in him cringed, as he began to realize exactly where he was. On any normal day, this would have been your seat. 

He sighed, hand finding the back of your chair and clutching the back of it in a tight fist. “Sorry, sensei, I’m tired after a long day, could we continue this in the morning?”

A crack filled the room as the wood splintered from the pressure that he was applying to it. And regret flashed through him. He would have to apologize to you the next time you were together. 

Yaga made the wise choice then to let it rest, nodding in agreement. “I’ll see you two in the morning.” 

Geto felt around his pocket for a piece of candy as he left, popping it into his mouth as he shut the door behind him. It had been so simple, the gesture you made when you had offered these to him. But something so considerate could never be that simple. 

It was sweet, the hard caramel breaking away in his mouth. He had only ever eaten them when the taste of curses had gotten too terrible to ignore- but lately, he found himself wearing away at his stash to satisfy his thoughts of you.  

You had been so kind, despite the fact you had been upset at both him and Gojo. To say he was hurt that you decided he too was deserving of your cold behavior, was an understatement. He was in distress. He hadn’t known you personally but for only a short while, but he couldn’t deny the sudden pull he had towards you. While Gojo was the match, you were the flame, and he was merely a bug who couldn’t tear himself away. He hoped you wouldn’t burn him more than you already had. 

Gojo pushed himself off the window ledge, the two of them falling into step beside each other. It was pitch black when they stepped outside, bumping shoulders as they headed to the dorms. 

“What do you think?” Geto started.

Gojo raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk pulling at his lips. He shrugged his shoulders, “I say we track her down, you know, just to tell her off for taking advantage of our good graces.” His tone bordered threatening, if it weren't for the soft laugh that followed after it. “Besides! Someone had to have killed that replacement! We could have been protecting a stone cold psychopath. It would kill me if we didn’t get the full story.”

Fooling them had been a truly unforgivable thing. 

“We should follow Misato Kuroi, she’s bound to run back to that girl’s side the second the coast is clear.” Geto supplied, flipping his phone open. 

Toji wasn’t the only one who had managed to slip a tracker onto that woman, but of course, they didn’t know about him yet.  

Chapter Text

The horizon stirred, a canvas of indigo yielding to the first brushstrokes of dawn. The world held its breath in anticipation for the new day, but Gojo held his breath for an all different reason. He hadn’t slept a second away, bright blue eyes staring circles at his ceiling. He had counted the tiles four different times now, moving to count the dents in his dorm room wall. How they got there- he didn’t know. 

Gojo’s mind had churned, a tempest of fragmented thoughts that collided like ships at sea. He had dressed himself, then undressed back into his pajamas when he realized Geto was still asleep– just to ultimately repeat the same step again. Slipping on his shoes, he leaned down to tie them for the second time in the past two hours. 

He knew to wait as a courtesy to Geto, but the longer time went on, the more impatient he became. He was already dressed in casual clothing when he left the room, making the short trip to the next door down.

He stood outside of Geto’s room, quietly rapping the door at an incessant pace. Eventually, Geto opened the door with a glare. If it was anyone other than Gojo, they’d probably end up thrown out the window. 

“I called in a car for the day,” he began conversationally. “Knowing that clown, she’s probably already packed her stuff to leave so we gotta hurry.”

He grabbed Geto’s hand, who only resisted to lock the door behind him. All they needed was their wallets and each other, so they had no problem strolling out of the dorms to the parking lot. 

Geto put his hands in his pocket as he walked, looking at Gojo with a skeptical expression. “Can you drive?”

“No, but you can figure it out,” He laughed as they approached the car, looking at the driver and gesturing for him to get out.

The man looked confused and scared, thinking he was just going to spend the day driving the young master around. “Satoru-sama?”

“Go away,” he flicked his hand as if to say ‘shoo–shoo’. “You’re not needed.”

The driver began to sweat and begged, “I can’t just leave–” but then he felt weightless as Geto grabbed him and dragged him out, stumbling to catch himself so he didn’t hit the pavement. 

“Sorry, but we’re not in the mood for negotiations,” he slid into the driver’s seat and fiddled with the transmission as Gojo climbed into the passenger’s side. 

Gojo leaned over and pointed at his feet, “I think you have to press that and then move the stick.”

Geto followed his advice and threw the car into reverse. It crept backward and he looked down at his feet at the pedal on the far right, stepping on it hard and then hitting the pedal to the left in a panic as they flew backwards and jerked to a stop. 

“I think I’ve gotten the hang of it.” With that, he switched into drive and flew forward turning the wheel in quick motions. 

Gojo nodded, “Yeah, you’re doing really well.”

In the rear view mirror, the driver that had been thrown out stood and clenched his fingers in his hair. They were going to ruin the transmission at this rate! 

As he got the hang of driving, he looked at Gojo for him to give directions to the apartment Amanai and Kuroi were living in. 

When they got closer to their destination, he heard the distinct ringing of Gojo making a call and made a signal for him to put it on speaker phone. 

Your room was still cloaked in predawn shadows when the phone shattered the silence. It’s ringing sliced through the fragile membrane of your rest, jolting you from the dreams you couldn’t quite remember. You fumbled for your phone, heart pounding and fingers clumsy.

“Hello?”  Your voice emerged as a croak, its own protest against this intrusion. You blinked yourself awake, eyes adjusting to the dark room. Waking up in your childhood home was jarring, to say the least.

The voice on the other end cheered, and you released a groan. 

Gojo Satoru. 

“Gooood morninggg, Obi-chan!” His voice caused you to flinch. “Geto and I are just checking to see if everything is going well,” He sounded relatively normal for someone who just watched a girl get hit by a train the day before. 

You did your best to keep your confusion out of your voice as you spoke. “I’m good, Granny has been excited to see me and I’ve been catching up with my cousin.” Not entirely a lie.

“Oh, is your cousin the annoying brat I spoke to the other day?” 

You laughed, despite yourself. “No, I really am just babysitting him.”

“Good, good, you shouldn’t be around annoying kids like that,” he paused as he thought about it. “But you can sit my babies, if you want.”

You hear a loud laugh, recognizing the person immediately. “Good morning to you as well, Geto.”

“Same to you, Y/N-chan.” His voice came off as a low purr, exhaustion evident in his tone. He didn’t try to hide it like Gojo did, and that made you feel slightly better about yourself.

“So–” You yawned, suddenly too awake to go back to bed. “What are you two doing up this early?” You went to check the time, but the clock closest to your room hadn’t been working. Damnit, why did this specific person have to die? “...Uhm, what time is it?” Not realizing you could still check your phone, due to your own fatigue. 

“5:42 am!” Gojo answered rather quickly, the sound of his fingers thumping against something coming through the line. 

Geto cursed softly and you heard the distinct noise of car tires screeching. 

“What was that?” You couldn’t hide the note of concern in your voice. 

There was a beat of silence before Geto spoke nonchalantly. “I’m just having some driving lessons.” 

“Who’s teaching you?” You asked incredulously.

“I am, of course,” Gojo said proudly. 

You shook your head, knowing for a fact that Gojo staunchly refused to be behind the wheel, so he must have made Geto drive instead. You pressed a hand to your forehead and suppressed a groan; whatever these buffoons got into, you couldn’t control them. 

“Be careful, at least.” However, you could still express concern for them. 

The tone of the conversation warped with that sentence and you could sense that they wanted to tell you something. Guilt ate at you, thinking of how you had caused what had bothered them. You knew deep down you couldn’t give them what they wanted to hear. It sounded horrible to admit, but the more you thought about it, you were terrified at how they would respond.

‘You remember the super traumatizing event you went through yesterday? Yeah, I orchestrated that. You’re welcome!'

Yeah, it would be best if they never find out. You may be at odds with them most of the time, but there was still the part of you that had fallen in love with the Gojo Satoru of the future, and mourned the loss of Geto Suguru from the past. 

Unfortunately for you, you had ignited their memories of the day before. So of course, in usual Gojo fashion, he began to blab about the misfortune unfiltered. “We failed our mission yesterday.”

You gasped, feigning surprise, moving to sit up in bed. If he’s talking about this… it really must have bothered him. But this was a better reaction than what you could remember from before. Much better. “Oh?”

“Yeah, we were supposed to protect this girl so that she could assimilate into the tree guy that lives beneath the school,” He would blame it on the lack of sleep, but his voice cracked slightly as he spoke. “but she went ahead and did the stupidest thing,” Gojo’s wavering tone felt more and more uneven as he went on, almost like he was reliving these memories all over again. “She ran into a train.”

And just like that, any sign of vulnerability shattered. His cackle scratched your ears as it came over the phone, the sound of him slapping his knee quickly following. “Isn’t that hilarious, Obi-chan?” 

Riko Amanai was very much alive, and to put it into even greater perspective; just down the hall from you. To everyone else… to them, she was… “‘I’m really sorry that happened to you guys,” You spoke softly. 

“Obi-chan,” Gojo’s voice startled you, chills running down your spine. Your name left his lips in the form of a song, like he was mocking you. “You wouldn’t do anything stupid like that, right? What do you think, Geto?” You sucked in a breath. 

“Would she jump into train tracks while leaving us behind?” If it weren’t for the worry you held for your friends, you’re sure this comment would’ve freaked you out more.

Your forehead creased in concern and the corners of your lips turned down. “I would never– how could I even leave you guys behind? You wouldn’t let me.”

Geto hummed thoughtfully and the sound of the engine revved over the phone. “Obviously. But you shouldn’t be taking the train from now on, they lack security. What’s stopping you from falling off the edge too? You’ve always been quite unaware of your surroundings.” He was clearly referring to the time he and Gojo had scared you in your room…

Oh, something was definitely wrong. 

Before you could reply, Gojo cut in sharply, “Left, left!”

Car horns blared through the speaker and you held it away from your ear. “Where are you even going?”

“Just takin’ a little trip before Yaga grounds us,” They both laughed at that, but you knew that there was nothing Yaga-sensei could actually do to punish them. 

Well, now was as good a time as any to exit this conversation, else you say something that makes them lock you away. “So, Granny is an early riser and she’s really strict about morning chores…”

“We’ll call you back later, then, ok?” Geto’s tone was amicable, but there was a subtle note of irritation. 

You made a promise with yourself that you would help them through this trauma at a later date, but it wasn’t something that could be easily conveyed over the phone with them. They were prone to taking things into extremes. “Of course. Bye!”

“Bye-bye!” They sang in unison. 

God, you hoped they were ok.

Meanwhile, on their side, things weren’t looking too good. 

“Hm, that doesn’t look right,” Geto mused as he surveyed a flat tire. The oncoming summer season had turned the air humid, and as the sun peered over the backroads they were stranded on, he knew soon enough this would be an unbearable road trip. 

Gojo walked over to the front rim, hand slowly tracing the rubber tire. He pulled his hand away, inspecting the black that coated his fingers. A glint caught his eye as he spied the culprit.“That shouldn’t be there, either.” The tire had been ripped open by a long, metal rod. He grabbed at it, ripping it out. 

In his hands was a standard, metal hairpin. The end of it had been sharpened, no doubt, but it was clear that this belonged to a woman. 

Misato Kuroi had caught onto them, probably from the trail of car accidents they had narrowly escaped, and the fact they had tail-gated her for almost 4 kilometers. Either way, they were down a car and needed a mode of transportation to continue their quest. 

Geto thought for a second, his hand pulling out of his pocket to present itself. He didn’t give any warning before unleashing a curse, the small ball of contained cursed energy turning in his hands. “This should work, shouldn’t it?”

Gojo cheered, clapping his hands together before they came forward to cradle Geto’s face. “You’re amazing, Suguru! My heeeeero!” 

He laughed, bashfully, as he pulled from his grip. “Ever dramatic, Satoru.” The curse in his hand began to morph, a bright light shooting towards the sky as it was released from its sphere confinement.

Translucent tendrils floated beneath the curse, its entire body almost completely invisible. Reflecting the orange light produced by the rising dawn, it made a shrill call, similar to that of an eagle. Small wings sprouted from its head, as if a jellyfish had grown wings. Littering the shell of its top were small stars that grew and decreased in size, acting as its eyes. 

“Oho! Never seen this one before!” Gojo marveled, taking the time to investigate the curse as he circled around it. 

“This is Hanekurage, a curse I obtained not too long ago. It’s pretty harmless, save for the tentacles. Stings like a bitch if it grabs you the wrong way. Be careful getting on.” Geto offered a warning, but Gojo refused to listen as he reached out to touch it.

Gojo quickly pulled away, shaking out his hand with a yelp. “No kidding...”

Geto shook his head, clicking his tongue at Gojo’s arrogance. “I warned you, and you didn’t take it?”

“What can I say?” Gojo gave his signature smile. “I doubted you.”

“What the hell is this supposed to be?” Megumi was dumbfounded, finding himself fiddling with the gardening gloves in his hands.

One of your favorite places as a child had been the courtyard that housed your family’s zen garden. 

You had trouble remembering things from your past, but the tranquility it brought to you was indelible. What was once insatiably clean, seeing as it had been cared for by servants of the temple, was now overgrown with infectious wildlife. The world didn’t stop moving at the death of your family, even though to you, it felt like it had.

It was often said that zen gardens mirrored the state of your own mind, inviting a time for reflection and peace. Nature had reclaimed its dominion, moss now weaving its own narrative between the rocks. The stones that had been so meticulously placed now weathered scars of time, etched by clawing roots. The air that had been stilled with incense now bared the smell of damp earth and fresh jasmine, and the bamboo had grown uncontrollably. You didn’t even want to consider what kind of animals might live here. 

“Can’t you tell? It’s a zen garden.” Riko shot Megumi a glare, almost to chastise him for being so impolite.

“Was.” You spoke shortly, offering Megumi a little support. He was only seven, of course a little boy this age wouldn’t dream of getting his hands dirty.

Toji had been tasked with helping your grandmother inside, the old woman nagging you about fixing some of the hallways that had crumbled apart in your family's absence. It was clear that even with her money, she hadn’t used it to get upkeep for the temple. He, very begrudgingly, accepted– considering he had planned to stay here too. He hadn’t exactly told you that part, but it made sense. His children were here, and from the looks of it you’d say this Toji wasn’t that bad of a guy. 

“Are you going to help, or keep staring?!” Riko shouted again, falling back on her butt as she ripped a weed out of the ground. She shrieked, a bug shriveling in front of her as it was pulled up under the plant. “Ew- ew ew get it away!” 

Tsumiki laughed at her, hand coming to wipe away at a stray tear. She was a little ways from you, kneeling down as she uprooted another weed. “Riko! Be careful, you don’t want to hurt yourself!”

“Ah, don’t worry about me!” She quickly sat up, brushing dirt off of her face. She couldn’t let a younger girl see her so ‘un-cool.’ “It was just a really big bug!” 

In reality it wasn’t that big. Just your ordinary pill bug. 

Kaoru sat on the edge of the surrounding porch, looking out at the four of you as you worked. Your cousin was not a fan of getting dirty, especially when the activity itself involved dirt. They took quite good care of their nails, and the thought of grime getting underneath them was enough to keep them at a distance. 

“So we have to do this, but your cousin doesn't?” Megumi growled, hand-hoe in his grasp as he pulled at a collection of plants. “Why even sit out here?” His ears burned red, eyes refusing to look to whom he was talking about.

“Well, Kaoru just doesn’t want to get dirty.” You tried to provide understanding, brows knitting together as you picked up your discard bucket. “Besides, we’re guests here, it’s the least we can do.”

“Sounds more like you want us to help you with your chores.” The boy snorted, throwing a weed. It smacked you across the face, ricocheting and falling into the bucket in your hands. He smirked, tossing his head back as his hair moved from his face. That action alone reminded you of Gojo, and you grimaced. 

You had been thinking about the two of your classmates a lot lately, despite obvious reasons. It bothered you. Who knew saving people would make you feel so damn guilty? 

“Ah–! Megumi, don’t throw things–” Tsumiki started, but was then assaulted by another weed from the same attacker. She sputtered, eyes wide. Megumi huffed, brow raising as he challenged her to say something. Instead, she laughed.

Riko started to laugh too, followed by a barrage of weeds thrown Megumi’s way. This child was about to get dogged on by two girls, and you were going to let them. 

Taking the bucket in your hands, you walked off from the garden, slipping off your shoes as you entered the house. You decided to take a break, choosing to leave your bucket somewhere near the back door that led out to the courtyard. The temple was quiet, despite the occasional echo of a hammer slamming down on a nail, thanks to Toji. 

You wandered, barely paying attention to the direction of which you walked. Your eyes wandered, as if they played tricks on you. Personally you would never admit to having a paranoid personality, but when it came to your past, you felt as if you were haunted. The hallways were silent, and you felt yourself sinking into thought. The clocks that surrounded you were still, painfully reminding you of the event that had silenced them about eight years ago. 

It hadn’t been long, feet trudging to a stop as something sucked you from your thoughts. As if your mind was playing tricks on you, the faint sound of ticking tickled your ears. Of course, you played it off truly as paranoia, knowing that due to three members still remaining, it would make sense as to why a clock was functioning. But what didn’t make sense was where you were. 

Granny’s clock was in the Hondo, the large grandmother clock positioned against the south wall. Seeing as you had walked from that direction, there would be no reason the sound would be coming from ahead of you. Kaoru’s clock, even though you hadn’t come across it, wasn’t in this wing of the temple from what you remembered. 

And yours? Well, you had moved yours to the attic in hopes that you would’ve never had a reason to return to it. 

As your feet carried you, albeit cautiously, you felt a similar pang of nauseousness like you had at the substation. As your heart raced, blood pumped to your ears as the ticking got louder and louder. You would catch yourself stopping, fearing that the footsteps you heard weren’t your own. Every tick sent a tremor down your spine, and you felt yourself continuing your trek down the hallway.

As if to prove something to yourself, you began to run down the hall, letting out a small shriek as you closed your eyes. As you got farther and farther, you slowed yourself, relying on your ears to figure out if the ticking had stopped. To your dismay, it had only gotten louder, and the sound of the hands striking 12 rang into your ears.

Frightened, your eyes snapped open, coming face to face with a large wall clock. It had windchimes hanging from the bottom of it, and as it shook, the sound they made followed suit. It was moving.

Someone else you hadn't counted for was alive.

“Gojo, you've been playing ‘eye-spy’ by yourself for over two hours. Aren’t you bored?” 

The two boys sat along the top of Hanekurage, the curse he had summoned earlier for transportation purposes. Gojo, to distract himself from boredom, had relied on his typical childish behavior. While this might’ve satisfied his entertainment, the same could not be said for his friend. 

Geto had grown tired of this mission already, hand coming up to mess with the strand of loose hair that fell over his face. He didn’t recognize where they were now, their cellphones refusing to work under the shit service. Luckily for him, it meant he could ignore his Sensei’s texts regarding the conversation they were supposed to have today. Wherever this maid was going, it was far away. The further they were from society the less interference. 

“Of course, I’m bored.” He sang-sanged. “It’s been soooo long and we’ve gotten nowhere.” He gestured to their surroundings, mountains lining the earth below them. 

They had entered the Yamanashi-prefecture, home to a range of mountains known as the Aino. If it were under different circumstances, they would’ve liked to come here when it was snowing.  Sledding sounded like fun, and you’d be there, which in turn made it even better.

Silence sat between the two of them for what felt like minutes, neither of them having anything to say. Kuroi had disappeared in the treeline multiple times now, but it was clear she was following a path and was unaware of their lingering presence from above. For someone who kept such a huge secret from them, she did little to cover her tracks. 

Their silence didn’t last long as the curse they were sitting on came to a stop. Both sorcerers jolted forward at the abrupt halt, grabbing each other for stability as they regained their balance. 

“What was that for?” Geto scoffed, moving to look over the edge of the jellyfish spirit they had hitched a ride on.

Below them was a veil. A glowing sentinel of molten gold, it’s ethereal light shining brightly on their faces. It hummed in reverence, a heartbeat of protection. From what they could tell, it was created to keep curses out- seeing as Kuroi walked right through it.

They gave each other a knowing look, eyes narrowing slightly before Geto nodded in immediate understanding. This was your veil. This was your childhood home.

You were here, and you were involved.

A few hours had passed and you had chosen to forget all about the clock in the west wing of your home. Having retreated back to your group in the garden, the four of you had finished weeding out the entire karesansui. 

At some point, not that you had been paying much attention, a fight had started. Kaoru had launched themselves into Megumi, the two of them screeching in unison as they tumbled through the mud. Turns out, the latter had thrown dirt onto your cousin’s kimono, which had been stark white before this moment. With the help of both Riko and Tsumiki, you managed to save Megumi from the onslaught of attacks thrown at him.

Thanking whatever god was on your side, it was resolved rather quickly- almost as if Megumi had garnered a new sense of respect for your little cousin.

Which lead you to now, as the five of you carried buckets in each hand, filled to the brim with weeds and other invasive plants. You had planned on dumping them somewhere near the village, preferring to compost rather than to burn. 

Despite the chilling encounter with an unknown clock, you had narrowed it down to the possibility of your older brother still being alive. To your knowledge, at least in your past life- Ichiro Obinata had succumbed to the disease he had been diagnosed with sometime after the murder of your clan. 

So, maybe he would die sooner than later, regarding the fact he was questionably still alive? That was the only thing you could make up to bring comfort to yourself, not knowing if you should be afraid of your brother. He had spared you, after all. 

Stepping out of your home, you and the kids had said little, choosing to revel in the completion of a hard day's work with silence. The sun was setting, a canopy of leaves filtering the faded sunlight that casted down on you. You brought a hand to shield your eyes, keeping your eyes concentrated on the path ahead. 

The village awaited. Tall, eroded remains peaking through the break in the woods. It didn’t take long to reach it, and Kaoru seemed warry. They clearly hadn’t left the temple much. 

You wandered through the desolation, where once laughter echoed and shutters swung open to greet the rising sun. The streets were cobblestone, now cracked and overgrown, bearing the weight of forgotten footsteps. At the center of the village was a well, the pointed roof now collapsed into itself. It once stood as a lifeline, but now only carried whispers of despair. 

You had grown to believe it was haunted, despite the fact that you could very well see cursed spirits. The belief wasn’t too far fetched, considering these people died because of a curse. You didn’t know too many details concerning your clans fall from grace, but you did know that this village had partly been responsible.

Treading lightly, you felt as if the soil mourned along with you. The village’s secrets remained buried, but its sorrow was nestled deep in your bones.

“Y/N-!” Tsumiki called back to you, walking with the others in front of you. Riko had three buckets in her hand, having offered to take one of Kaoru’s seeing as they struggled. “Are you tired? You slowed down!”

You irked, teeth pulling up into a scoff as you clicked your tongue. This girl was totally calling you old. “I’m coming-! I'm coming, just- distracted.”

Riko gave you a worried look, eyes offering warm understanding. This must’ve been hard for you, clearly, but you persevered. You had wanted to help, and you went out of your way to take care of her- even now. She respected you greatly for that.

“You think too much.” Megumi grumbled, shaking his head slightly. “You should get that checked out.”

“Ha. Ha. You’re so funny Megumi.” You picked up the pace, matching their stride. 

He threw you a quizzical look, like he hadn’t understood what could be taken as a joke in his statement. He truly meant it. 

Coming to a clearing just outside the village, the five of you dumped your buckets in the neighboring woods. You had seen no point in walking all the way out here, but Granny Obi insisted on you going far enough to where it wouldn’t ruin the atmosphere of the temple. You understood, and did little to argue, besides- getting out of that house and breathing fresh air? Hell yes.

But, you knew better than to take things for what they were. Nothing ever seemed to work out in your favor, but when has time travel been easy? Especially when you’re rewriting everything you’ve ever known. 

The air around you froze, almost as if a wave of ice had been thrown at you. Each and every hair on the back of your neck stood up as goosebumps littered your arms. The veil had been breached. 

“Hey guys?” You started, jerking your head to look at the four kids in front of you. “You guys can go back towards the house! Riko, can you wait here for me? I’m going to be right back.” 

You knew you had requested Kuroi to come live with the rest of your adoptive crew, but you hoped you were mistaken on how many bodies had gotten in with her. With what warnings your veil sent through to you upon entry, it was clear that there were three new people in the vicinity of the temple's mountain. It was a lot of space to cover, so you were confident in saying that your family was safe for now. 

The kids seemed to acknowledge what you said, a chorus of short confirming responses thrown back at you. With that, you began walking off, face falling into a scowl.

You had thought the veil would’ve given any curse users the memo to ‘back the fuck off’, but maybe they needed a fucking sign too.

It didn’t take long for them to track Kuroi down, but what they found instead only confirmed their suspicions. 

Eventually, the woman had come across you, a tight line on your lips. At the sight of her, they watched as it melted away– revealing a smile they knew all too well.

It had been forever since you had given Gojo one of those. A part of him felt bad for what he had said, knowing deep down he hadn’t even meant it. But when you brought Geto into the equation, undermining the very security of their relationship for a game– it had pissed him off. 

They followed the two of you for a long time, making sure to give you a wide breadth. To say they were surprised at the size of your Clan’s estate would be an understatement. 

They had passed a village at this point, Gojo giving Geto a look of disgust at its abandoned appearance. And then, turning to Kuroi again, you stopped.

Just a short distance behind you stood a ghost. A spirit derived of flesh and blood, contained in the body of the girl who had been hit by a train the day prior. If they were to be bested by anyone, it’s better if it was you. You they could respect. 

Somehow you had managed to slip Riko Amanai out from underneath their fingertips. It was honestly cute that you thought you could fool them with such a petty trick. 

They watched as Riko made a run for Kuroi, arms wrapping around her neck in fear she might disappear. The maid faltered, nearly slipping on her foot as she caught her. They spun, girlish laughter filling the air.

She looked just as happy as she did when she jumped in front of that train. How audacious. 

Geto reacted first, moving in your direction with a volatile expression, only to be stopped by Gojo. The look in his eyes was down-right cruelty. The air began to grow cold around them and worsened as you hugged Riko and Kuroi. You had some explaining to do. But not before they could get even.

Instead of immediately confronting you, they waited until you bid the actors a brief goodbye. Ever so polite, you couldn’t stand to interrupt their reunion, which worked best for them. 

They stood quietly in the brush surrounding the path you took to get back home. Your shoulders became more and more scrunched and Geto smirked, deciding to give you a little test of his own. 

He and Gojo separated, the latter effortlessly switching to the otherside of the path with the grace of a trained hunter.

Chapter Text

You weren’t stupid. You had counted three people entering your veil. 

You hadn’t separated from Kuroi and Riko purely based on the kindness of your heart. Yes, they should have time to themselves to reunite, but you had a feeling the people who had breached your barrier were here for you . 

As you walked through the woods, you took a longer path up to your house. The air whispered with the rustle of leaves, but the surrounding silence screamed the loudest. You felt eyes on you, two pairs of unseen gazes that traced your every step. You felt like a caged animal. 

You could feel your heart pounding wildly in your chest, like a bird had been confined by your ribs. You glanced over your shoulder, twice, but the shadows yielded no answers. Are they behind you? Beside you? Above you?

The first pursuer: a phantom, elusive like smoke– like they hadn’t existed in the first place. You would catch a glimpse of movement- a flicker in the puddles that laid near your feet, or the slight whisper of something you couldn’t quite catch. The more you turned, the more helpless you felt. There was nothing but the echo of your own footsteps.

The second: a predator, deliberate and patient. You could sense their proximity in the tightening of your throat, or the slight prick at the nape of your neck. There was no trace that it had ever happened, but you had swore you could feel it. 

You quickened your pace, sick of waiting for answers. You abandoned the trail, weaving through the trees as you leapt over roots. Your senses strain, seeking clues: a footfall, a breath, or a heartbeat- something that could help you figure out just what the fuck was going on. 

To your dismay, the darkness guards its secrets well. 

You continue, each step a gamble , each step a choice. That's all this life was now, a long series of spontaneous gambles and choices that strung life to a string of fate. You used to think of your power as something indifferent to society- but this was truly terrifying. Could you die here? What would happen if you died? Would all of this be for nothing?

How could you save others if you could never save yourself?

So you ran, eyes almost screwing shut in your desperate concentration. You jumped over a log, twisting your body into an aerial as you barely cleared it. As you landed, your ankle almost fell from beneath you, but you were quick enough to keep pushing forward.

Seconds felt like minutes, but you savored whatever time you had. As you ran, it felt as if the noises got louder, and a clearing slowly began to reveal itself the farther you got. You hoped with how you separated yourself from the main path, you wouldn’t be anywhere near the Obinata Temple if things truly ended terribly. 

You breathed out, nearly skidding to a stop at the sight in front of you.

The sun had almost completely set, a red ball of fire somewhere hidden behind the forest that surrounded the clearing. The sky was painted a deep blue, but it gradually faded into a harsh crimson. A large silhouetted figure stood some lengths away, their cold eyes nearly glowing as they leered at you. 

Were you staring death in the face?

Your eyes trailed down to his hand, the limb not making a single gesture that could give away his plan. He was waiting for you to run. 

So you did. 

With no sign of hesitation, you willed your legs to move forward, a battle cry releasing itself from your throat as you ran straight towards him. If this freak wanted to kill you, he’d have to try a lot harder.

You had nearly reached him, a smirk making its way onto your face as his eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t think you’d run at him. You could feel your cursed technique making its way to your fist, and without even thinking about it, your body was preparing to kill him.

The sound you released was cut short as another body slammed into you, sending you tumbling to the ground. You shrieked, feeling as your clothes tore as the other body held tightly onto you. You began to thrash, the momentum coming to an abrupt stop as a pair of legs wrapped around your waist. 

You breathed in for what you expected to be the last time, but instead, you were shocked to find the familiar smell of sandalwood. Your eyes snapped wide, and your mouth fell open.

“Caught you,” Gojo leaned down next to your ear, loud enough that you could barely make him out over the sound of your panting. “Mind explaining this game you orchestrated?”

A pair of feet stopped just before they reached your head, squatting down so that they could lean their body over you. You tore your gaze from Gojo’s and locked eyes with Geto, a perfunctory smile gracing the corners of his mouth. “I’ll admit you had us going for longer than usual, how did you swap the bodies without us noticing?”

Gojo’s body was inappropriately close to yours, legs straddling your hips as his hands found their comfort just below your chest. It was clear it wasn’t meant to be perceived this way, but nonetheless, if anyone were to walk by-- this would just look dirty.

You felt your breath being stolen as Gojo’s hands applied more pressure to your lungs, only a soft whimper escaping your lips. He loosened up his stance at this, only just a bit so that you weren’t gasping for air. The moment of reprieve was short, however, as you felt your arms being dragged up into Geto’s grasp. “Oops, sorry Obi-chan.”

You bare your teeth at him, defenseless as you were, you could still use your mouth. “Let me up and I’ll explain it all. Hell, I’ll even make you tea.” 

Gojo shook his head at you in dismay. “And give you the chance to escape? And here I thought your tricks were more clever than that.” 

Your mind races as you think of something that could buy you more time. What you landed on could be considered degrading, but you had to do what you had to do. When pinned down by two mentally fragile predators, you did what you did best. 

Breathing faster and faster, you feel the hysterics you were suppressing rise up and get caught in your throat, escaping as a low sob. “I-I didn’t– I’m so sorry.” With that, you summoned all the theatrics you could allow, hot tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. Loosening the faucet little by little, you jutted your bottom lip out to look as pathetic as possible. “I didn’t want to hurt you guys…”

Gojo stilled above you, mind struck with the familiar scene of the day before. He had been so angry at Misato Kuroi’s horrible excuse for tears- but seeing you like this, so desperate for him to forgive you- it made him feel so happy. For once, you were the one who had to apologize. On some level he wanted to shake you for crying. You were better than this! You were like him and– 

His eyes flickered up to meet Geto’s, their eyes resembling each other so strongly that it was like looking into a mirror. They were having the same conflict. 

Geto spread the palms of his hands flat as he ran them up and down your forearms in a soothing gesture. He spoke your name in an attempt to draw you out of your breakdown. 

You looked anywhere but them, partially for the act and partially for the fact you were afraid that they’d be able to see the lie. To some extent, you had to tell the truth. Voice cracking you spoke, “Something bad was going to happen if I didn’t– so I had to interfere to– to save–” 

A woody scent overtook your senses as Gojo covered your mouth with one hand and you broke for a second to look at him in shock. His expression was wild, something lying just beneath the surface that let you know that you had said enough. 

Gojo had seen movies like this. On accident, a woman would fall and grab the man closest to her- only to end up beneath him. This trope always happened between future soulmates in the movies- so did this mean…? 

If he wasn’t careful, he’d just kiss you right now. You were entirely different from the girl he knew only a few weeks ago, and this change was intoxicating. As much as he’d like to give himself all the credit, he really felt inspired by the romantic tropes he had seen on tv. 

To you, his eyes were riddled with mania, face coming down close to yours as he began to shush you, stroking the side of your face. “I’m proud of you.”

For a second you could recall the first time Gojo had ever seen you cry. And not in this life, but the last. You two had just started dating, sometime in your early twenties. You had been watching some sad chick-flick and the mood had you softly weeping. 

“Are you crying?” A laugh had escaped him, a near shocked expression on his face. 

You were huddled up with a pillow, mouth hidden behind the soft cushion as your teary gaze begrudgingly left the screen. 

“Oh shit.” He was still amused, the idea of you being so emotional over a fake story was comical. “You are crying!” 

A laugh tore from your throat, his grin contagious as he walked over to you. You felt your face squish in his hold, hands coming up to hold your cheeks. 

Yes, it was pathetic– but you were happy for the characters on the tv. This was a good movie.

“Come on now, Y/N–” He choked on his words, brows furrowing uncharacteristically. He seemed lost on how to respond.

Before you could respond, your locked gaze was broken by Geto. His hold on one of your arms released, free hand now threading his fingers into Gojo’s hair, yanking his head back away from you. “Satoru.”

You see Gojo purse his lips for a moment, before deciding the fight wasn’t worth it. He looked down at you, considerably more tame than how he was before and stood up. The relief was short as you felt his arms come around you and lift you into Geto’s arms, still stroking your scalp with an uncharacteristic softness. “You must be tired, Obi-chan. We’re not mad, really.”

Geto tightened his embrace as they began walking you back to your home. “We just need to know everything for our own piece of mind.” 

“Yeah, don’t forget, you’re sensitive when you’re tired!” Gojo laughed, referring to when you had woken up in class upon traveling here. He had remembered, which was surprising to you. 

The sun had long been set, meaning your housemates would most definitely be asleep by now. You still feared for how your grandmother would react with two more teens in the house. She might start charging you rent! 

As much as you wanted to scold them, you had to hold fast to your play, so at a loss for words, you stuck with burying your head in Geto’s chest. 

They had come to the entrance of your home, carelessly stepping through it’s door and carrying you down the hall.

“Hey, Obi-chan,” Gojo said lightly, nearly purring your name as he glanced around the main hall. So your crazy grandma had a thing for clocks. Okay. Weird move. “This place is super big, so you gotta show us to your room,” Gojo nudged your shoulder. “We don’t wanna wake anyone so late at night.” 

Mmm, what the hell did they intend on doing? 

You weakly raised your arm in the direction of your room, expecting them to drop you off as soon as you went inside. Instead they followed you, plopping themselves down on the bed, body still in Geto’s arms. 

In your shock, you let some words slip out. “What the fuck?” 

Geto only shook his head. “Y/N, we have many things to talk about in the morning, you should get some rest.”

Your childhood twin bed was NOT big enough for this! 

Regardless, the two made it work with you semi-lying in between them, legs overlapping uncomfortably. If you weren’t so tired, you would’ve refused. 

You couldn’t help but whine, “It’s hot! We didn’t even change, this is so gross.”

Gojo laughed, the action shaking the whole bed. “Feel free to strip.” 

This earned a slap to his shoulder, both boys laughing in response to his suggestion. You found yourself laughing too.

All at once, the events of the day had caught up with you. Your lids became heavy as your head fell back against the pillow, a sigh releasing from your lips. In the conjoined mess that was you and your two friends, Geto’s hand rested on your hip. Gojo was on his side facing you, his own hand overlapping with Getos on your waist. 

Geto adjusted himself as he muttered. “You better be ready for the morning.” They really weren’t going to let your interference with Riko’s case go– though, you understood the severity of it. You owed them that much.

This time, real tears crept down your face. You were so fucked!

You had fallen asleep shortly after, leaving the two boys quietly to their own devices.

Gojo’s watchful eyes had trained on the rise and fall of your breathing. He thought it was funny, but he had seamlessly matched his own respires to yours. He could tell you were exhausted, and judging from your involvement with the disappearance of Riko Amanai, it all made sense.

You had really come back to your home, faced your childhood trauma, just to ultimately provide safety for others. You had been so selfless, and he felt he had misjudged you completely. It was commendable. 

Gojo hadn’t taken note of when your ‘mental maturity’ started, but you had always been a well reserved, independent classmate. That was all you were to him in the past, a classmate. But now, your outgoing, friendly behavior caught him by surprise. The two of you had your reasons for competing with each other, but now– Gojo couldn’t remember when he started caring for you. 

Normally when you had argued, you would’ve carelessly dismissed him– but you recently started fighting back. You wanted to defend yourself, where in the past, you did nothing to show you even cared for his remarks at all. Gojo didn’t think of himself as a bully, but half of him wanted to continue just to get a rise out of you. 

Geto had cleared his throat at some point, and Gojo’s eyes met his. So they were both awake.

“She’s gotten stronger.” Geto muttered under his breath, eyes closing as he exhaled. It was a simple action, but if you had been awake to see it- you would’ve considered his breathing to be beautiful. 

“So you noticed it too?” Gojo sat up, fully awake. He had wanted to talk to someone about this. 

“What was not to notice? Suddenly Y/N starts putting hours into the gym, and training those first years in her free time. Her cursed energy feels different too.” Geto held no inkling of suspicion on his face, but his tone betrayed him. He hadn’t bothered to open his eyes though, leaving Gojo to look around on his own.

“I didn’t know her to be so determined.” If he had said that to your face, he was sure you’d punch him. 

“No. Not that.” Geto took this opportunity to also sit up, but due to their incessant movement, you stirred.

This caused both of the boys to stare at you, silently hoping you wouldn’t wake up to question them on what they were awake for. They were talking about you, and it was a much needed conversation. 

Fortunately, you used their absences beside you to your advantage, lazily rolling over on your side. You gripped your pillow, muttering something incoherent as you were lulled back to sleep. 

“You were saying?” Gojo piqued, brow raised in question as he turned back to his friend. 

“I didn’t think she was the type to make friends.” Geto finished his thought, but his eyes didn’t leave your sleeping figure. “Shoko and her are friends, yes, and I'm not saying it’s unbelievable for her to have them-” He seemed to backtrack on his statement, clearing the air of any insulting notions towards your character. “But I just don’t understand why she’s been so nice to me. She hardly conversed with us our first year.”

“Awwwwe, sounds like my poor little Suguru has a crush.” Gojo joked, finger wiggling toward him. “If it's worth saying, I don't remember you being much of a people-person yourself. Maybe you’re just misunderstanding Obi-chan’s kindness.” Coming from him, that was rich.

Geto clicked his teeth, reaching into his pocket.

He quickly pulled out a candy, more specifically, the candy you had given him. Geto hadn’t told anyone about his disgusting experience with consuming souls, but you had made the guess it wasn’t something he enjoyed. You gave him candy to help with the aftertaste. To anyone else, this gesture could be seen as childish, but Geto hadn’t stopped thinking about it. 

“She gave me this.” He held it up between his fingers, staring through it at Gojo. “She’s been trying to help me.” 

“Didn’t figure you had a sweet tooth, Suguru.” Gojo snickered. “That’s more my thing, no?”

Geto ignored him, eyes trailing back over your face. “Pardon me if it sounds immature, but I think she’s crushing on me.”

With that, a scream released from Gojo’s throat, the boy dumbfounded at Geto’s theory. Yes, Gojo had joked about this being reality in the past- but he hadn’t meant it. Foreign emotion bubbled in his gut, and he couldn't tell what to feel. Was he jealous? But of who? You or Geto?

You jolted awake, gasping largely as you fumbled for the pillow in your grasp. Without even thinking, which was something you apparently did a lot, you chucked it.

Gojo let out a small ‘oof’, falling over the edge of your bed and onto the floor. 

“What!? Why are we screaming?!” You were breathing erratically, eyes switching from Geto’s position on your bed, and Gojo’s collapsed form on the floor. 

Geto was laughing, his hand coming up to his mouth to muffle it. You swore the sound made your heart clench, and you flushed with embarrassment. “Gojo– get off the floor–”

“Obi-Chaaaaan assaulted me–” Gojo whined into the floorboards, his butt still arched into the air. 

“Get over yourself, Satoru–” As you climbed off your bed and onto the floor, you found yourself pausing. 

Gojo’s breath had hitched in his throat, and you swore you could see tears forming at the edge of his eyes. Suddenly, with no warning, the boy shot off from the ground and into you.

“OBI-CHAN CALLED ME BY MY NAME-” He wailed in victory, crushing you in a hug as his hand frivolously petted at your head like he would an animal.

You sputtered in shock, hands flailing before finding themselves resting on his back. “I– It was an accident!”

“Please continue to call me Satoru–” He ripped away quickly, clasping your hands together with his own. “It’s only right, you owe me.”

You sucked in a breath, mulling it over. This was a better outcome than his suspicious attitude from before. “Uuuuugh, fine.” You groaned, betrayed by the small smile that fell onto your face.

“If that's the case for Satoru, then you’ll call me Suguru.” Geto gave you a knowing look, one that knew you wouldn’t have the balls to refuse him. 

Suddenly you were thrown back onto the bed, on top of Geto, as Gojo squished you between the two. “Obi-chan you’re so cute.”

You wriggled beneath his weight, Geto laughing and wrapping both you and Gojo in his arms. Why didn’t you have AC? Did you need to save up to get this place central air? “You guys are so sweaty, let me out of this!”

They refused to relent, and eventually you drifted off into a peaceful dream. (Nightmare really, two demons chasing you around hell, chanting your name in unison.)

Granny Obinata was glad to have her granddaughter return home. Sure she came off strong, whacking you upside the head and what-not, but she was so relieved to see you come home. Although she dragged a couple of orphans with her, it was nice that Kaoru was around kids their age. 

She spent all morning cooking your favorite food, ready to surprise you with breakfast in bed so you knew how proud she was of you. But when she walked through the door the tray dropped to her feet. 

There her baby was. Smothered between two men, there lay her little baby, completely unaware of the fools around her. 

The white haired ruffian on top lifted his head, woken up by the noise. “Oh! You must be Obi-chan’s granny! Happy belated–”

Before he could finish, Granny Obinata let out a deafening screech, waking every one in the east side of the house awake.

Chapter Text

The rest of 2006 flew by in an instant and you found yourself entering the New Year with your newfound family, and resident freeloader, Toji Fushiguro. Megumi and Tsumiki had eventually settled in quite nicely to your home, and you were proud to say you noticed improvement in their relationship with their father. 

Of course, this didn’t mean you were out of the dark, considering Suguru’s fall from grace was still at an incline throughout your third year. The next thing that you had to account for was Haibara’s death and the mission Suguru was tasked with, which had ended in him rescuing Nanako and Mimiko. 

You had successfully stopped Riko Amanai’s death, thus stopping the chain reaction that would have occurred if he witnessed her and Gojo’s assassination. As thankful as you were for the successful attempt, you quickly came to realize that because of your intervention, Gojo had failed to unlock his reversal technique.

Speaking of which! Your life at home was so much better than you could’ve imagined. You knew Megumi and Tsumiki deserved a proper education, so you looked into surrounding schools for them to attend. Unfortunately, the only one was quite a long distance, resulting in an unsavory chauffeur. (Toji swore his license was legal, but with how he takes curves, you think it should be revoked.) With their recent enrollment, Kaoru had shown deep curiosity in schooling as well.

Your cousin in your first life had never dreamed of actually socializing with people-  choosing to become a high-end fashion designer who worked behind the scenes, so you were pleased with their change of attitude. With your recent involvement in their life, they had instead shown a deep interest in the life of Jujutsu as well.

Satoru and Suguru had become regulars in your home,  using every chance they got to visit your Clan’s home. Need a light bulb changed? They’d be there. Megumi and Kaoru are graduating from elementary school?  Disposable camera and fake tears were at the ready.

Of course, Megumi and Satoru seemed to have kept the same dynamic you knew them to have before, constantly edging each other on and causing useless arguments. Some things never did change, and you found your heart clenching at the nostalgia. 

Riko Amanai had taken up your last name, seeing as her existence was borderline illegal at this point. You found that Riko Obinata suited her more anyway, and she deeply cared for your grandmother and the rest of your family. (And Toji, though he said she was his favorite.) 

As for you . Your studies and physical training became your top priority in the time between events. Due to the Kyoto Sister School Exchange Event from your second year, you had officially been ranked up to a first grade sorcerer. It felt like you had finally caught up to where you left off in your previous life– thanks to your prior experience about your abilities and challenges. You were relieved that you had this experience to look back on, wishing you had it to begin with. Maybe things would’ve ended up differently if you had cared more in your original timeline.

As of now, you found yourself outside with the rest of your peers. Your teacher this year was new, seeing as Yaga finally took the promotion to principal he was given the year before. She… was interesting to say the least. Lip gloss, coffin nails, and bubble gum you swear she never spat out, Takeuchi Chiyo was someone who definitely peaked in highschool. She was an amazing jujutsu sorcerer in her own way, surely.

In short, she should never have been issued the task of schooling teenagers in their first year. As a hallmark of unprofessionalism, she started out your first day with a party. A ‘congrats your whole class made it to their senior year alive!’ party. You felt maybe she played a small role in Geto’s spiraling psyche, but to your memory– you generally couldn’t recall.

Needless to say, your sensei was absent due to a mission she had been sent on, leaving your class to themselves. The four of you had decided to use your time for training, more specifically, sparring. 

Suguru and Satoru had decided to go first, the two of them exchanging blow after blow. Satoru tended to pause his limitless technique for battles like this, as Yaga had yelled at him multiple times that he would ‘never learn’ if he always avoided the battle head on. 

You and Shoko used this time to yourselves to catch up on tea time. 

“And so I walk into my home, MY home! And Toji brought a woman! Like– around my grandma and cousin, not to mention his OWN children. I cannot stress how angry I was–” Your fingers came up to pull at your face, head going to hide in your hands. “And, to make it even worse- he called me his little sister and said he owned the place!”

Shoko snickered, eyes trained on the fight in front of you. “Sounds like a brother and sister issue to me.”

“We are NOT siblings-” You ripped your head up violently to look at her. 

“Right, so a middle aged man just lives in the same house with you and you both bicker like granny took away the playstation,” She crossed her arms, unconvinced. “Listen, I know you don’t like talking about family for obvious reasons, but maybe it’s okay to let people in a little. Fushiguro, from what Geto and Gojo have said, sounds like a pretty good guy.”

You gave her a concerned look, knowing full well she would have a different opinion if she knew his history. Furthermore, those two boys despised Toji from the start, so you couldn’t imagine them ever saying something good about him. “They hate him.”

“Which is exactly why I like him.” She smirked, snapping her fingers as she signaled you to watch the spar taking place between the subjects of your conversation. “Seems like they’re showing off for your attention, you could at least give them that.”

Satoru and Suguru were currently in a full physical fight, having dropped their cursed techniques and were now wrestling on the ground. “Honestly Shoko, seems more like they just want an excuse to touch each other.”

“Oh, you think?” She laughed, leaning forward with her chin in her palm. “Who do you think will win?”

As if Geto had heard her, he had managed to wrap his hand around the collar of Gojo’s shirt. Letting out a grunt, he managed to lift the white haired boy over his shoulder on the ground, quickly throwing him to the side. 

“If it’s a battle of pure physical strength, Suguru definitely. That’s not saying I think Satoru’s weak, but Suguru excels where Satoru doesn’t. If it’s purely based on technique? Gojo, probably. Even so, I think either have a good shot at winning.” You had started to pay more attention to the fight, the words slipping out of you with little hesitation. Throughout your year back in this timeline, you could confidently say you had become great friends with both of them.

“I don't think I'll ever get used to you using their first names.” Shoko shook her head, sighing. “So, you’re fighting next?”

“I probably should, yeah. For the experience. You want to go together?”

“If I'm being honest, no.” She shook her head as she laughed. “Fighting is not my thing.” She reached into her pocket, eyebrows furrowing as she fumbled around. Eventually, she pulled out her pack of cigarettes. “But, they’d probably kill for another chance to fight you.”

“Oh please, I train with them all the time.” You hummed, a pleased smile gracing your lips. Your life really was wonderful. 

It felt wrong to say, but before, Gojo Satoru had been the only reason you felt that life was worth living. Now, you understood exactly what you were missing to truly enjoy life to the fullest. Family. Shoko had put it very well. 

Sometimes it wasn’t bad to let people in.

“Yeah, I suppose they're truly just desperate for your attention–” The action was subtle, but as she took a drag from her cigarette, she leaned her head down on your shoulder. “But don’t forget about me, kay?”

You smiled, leaning your head down against her own. “I could never, Shoko. You’re my best friend.” You truly were the happiest you had been in a long time. 

Looking back at your calendar, you sat in your room, dejected. As difficult as it was protecting Riko from the events of the Plasma Star Vessel, you at least had some intel due to Satoru confiding in you in your past life. But, seeing as his knowledge didn’t go far on the events that detailed Suguru’s descent into madness– you were going out on your own. 

Pretty soon, he’d be tasked with going to a village to assist with a curse, but would inevitably come across two curse-energy wielding girls in dire need of rescuing. This would become the foundation for his hatred against non-jujutsu sorcerers, and push him into the direction of becoming a genocidal-cult leading maniac. 

Snapping your calendar shut, you huffed in frustration. Suguru had always kept his feelings to himself for the fear of bringing others down with him. In a way, you were the same. You just needed to knock him out of it.

Walking to your door, you slipped your shoes on as your hand wrapped around the door knob. Suguru was supposed to take on the mission by himself, but maybe after some sweet-talking you were able to accompany him on his quest. The principal took note of your class’ grades, or lack thereof for that matter, so Takeuchi-sensei should still be grading essays in the classroom.

You remember back when you were younger, walking alone on campus in the dark had creeped you out. It wasn't that you were unsafe, no, but the darkness tended to bring your thoughts with it. All about that night…

Your eyes had snapped open, and for a disoriented moment, you were suspended between dream and reality. The air was thick with the musty scent of ancient wood, the cold stone floor pressing against your back as you had fallen off your bed. The temple- the same one where you’ve been born and raised in- was shrouded in darkness. 

But, it’s not the darkness that sent your heart racing; it’s the cacophony of clocks. Dozens of them, the lifeline of your clan, were chiming in an effort to scream warning. Each clock had its own voice, sounding in thunderous claps of noise or the light trill of a bird.

You sat up, your breath hitching as you felt your fear steal it from your lungs. The clocks were relentless, mechanical hearts beating in unison at the sound of their death rattles. Through the chorus of bells, you make out a guttural, primal scream. It echoed through the walls, and vibrated through your bones. Panic surged, but it wasn’t enough to combat your adrenaline.

As you rushed out of your room, the hallway was dim. Shadows danced like malevolent spirits, the moon’s wake leading your mind to all sorts of horrifying thoughts. You stumble towards the source of another scream, heart hammering against your ribs. The air smells of fear and copper, thick with dread. 

Your family– the people you loved most– were in danger.

You crept through the doors of the Hondo, and you swear you felt time freeze. 

There, bathed in the sickly glow of the moon, stood your brother. Ichiro’s eyes, once familiar and warm, were now hollow and consumed by something unrecognizable. In his hand, was the very knife he had crafted with you as a child– a weapon forged from betrayal.

Your parents lay crumpled on the floor, their lifeblood seeping into the stone-carved sundial that sat in the middle of the ground. Your father was already dead, but your mother met your eyes. She was pleading with you to run. With all that she had left, she reached for you– but her fingers slipped on her own blood. 

Ichiro laughed, but it was full of unbridled agony. His eyes were stinging with tears, and as they ran down his face, they mixed with the crimson that painted his cheeks. “I don't want to die–” His voice came out a hushed whisper, air constricting from his throat. “I told them–”

His gaze met yours, and you swore you could see the fractured pieces of his mind. “...Ichiro–” you whimpered his name, foot stepping forward. You had no idea why you wanted to hug him so badly. “Why...?”

At your movement, he stepped back from you, knife clattering to the ground. “Y/N, go back to bed.” The tears had begun to fall, and he held out his arms in desperation. “They’re letting innocent people die! I tried to help- but they-” 

“Ichiro–” Your mother whispered, her voice crackling with blood. “Ichi–”

“Why won’t you just die?! You let all of those people die! You’re letting me die-” Your brother’s crazed eyes shot towards her, and he breathed in. “You made me like this-”

Ichiro had gotten sick, from what you could remember. Your family ruled it his own doing- but they wouldn’t do anything to help him. You were never told why. He had come to you, begging for your ability to rewind him– to prevent it from ever killing him, but he had nearly killed you in the process. 

From then on, he was kept far away from you under direct orders of your great grandfather, who was your family’s Clan Head at the time. He was dead now, you were sure, his body discarded somewhere across the temple like the rest of your family.

You remember seeing your brother force his technique upon your mother, and she shriveled up into ash.

Ichiro was, to your standards, the best big brother you could’ve asked for. You would give anything to understand what had made him so angry, and what had caused him to change. At the same time, you were grateful you would never face him again. But the thought of his clock, still ticking in the monastery– it terrified you. You could only hope he was okay.

Ripping from your thoughts, you found yourself walking through the school hallways. 

Takeuchi-sensei’s classroom was only a ways ahead of you, and you started to doubt that she was actually still here. In your experience of knowing her, she had always been quite the partier. To your relief, the light was still glowing through the sliding door. 

Coming up to it, you knocked gently, before clearing your throat. “Sensei?” You started, fingers hesitating to pull it open. 

“Obinata?” Your teacher sounded tired, her normal sassy tone full of tension. You could make out her footsteps advancing towards the door that separated the two of you.

“Can I speak with you? I know it’s late and you just got back, but it’s important–” You were cut off with the sight of your sensei opening the door, sighing lightly as she had probably just taken off her makeup in the school bathroom. 

“Sounds good.” She gave you a soft, strained smile, moving from the doorway to let you in. 

You let out a breath you weren’t sure you were holding and walked past her. “I have a strange request.”

She laughed aimlessly. “I doubt I'll find it that shocking, considering I put up with you kids on a daily basis.” She was most definitely referring to Gojo Satoru. 

“Ahah, right.” You went over to your desk, leaning against the hard surface as you began to pull at the skin around your fingers. “Well, I was wondering if on the next mission Suguru gets, could I maybe...” You trailed off, finding your face growing hot in embarrassment. Takeuchi-sensei was totally going to get the vibe you were thirsting over your classmate.

“Go on?” She gestured with her hand, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips as she realized what you were here for. 

“I was wondering if maybe I could go along with him,” You cringe as your voice cracked slightly. 

“And, why is that?” She knew damn well why, or at least she thought she did. 

“Well, while you were away today, we worked on one on one combat. I fought against Suguru and I think we could make a pretty good team.” You watched as she raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “It’s good to work with people– so.. I’d really like the opportunity to work with him on something serious.”

She let out a long hum in consideration. “...I’m impressed. You’re making the moves first?”

It took you a moment to register what she had said. “...Huh?” Your head tilted to the side.

“It’s been a while and neither of them have asked you out. So you’ve finally matured!” Her words were enough to send you into a flustered mess, not expecting your teacher to say something so horrifying. “It takes a lot of courage to be the one asking out a boy, so, answer me this– why Geto and not Gojo?”

“No, that's not–”

“You can't fool me, girl. I know the way a woman’s mind works, and you stare too long at Mr. Blue Eyes for it to not be love. So what’s the sudden change?”

“I just– genuinely wanted to work… with him?”

“Oooooh…” She nodded along, before a knowing smile grew on her face. “You want to make Gojo jealous!”

There was no winning this, you had to give her what she wanted, even if it wasn't exactly true.

“Yes ma’am.” You bared through your teeth, your jaw aching from how hard you were cringing. “So–”

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

Without hesitation, you slammed into Takeuchi-sensei with a soul crushing hug. The woman in your arms let out a sound of surprise, but eventually returned the sentiment. “Thank you Sensei!”

She cleared her throat, a small laugh escaping her as she wheezed. “Go get 'em, girl–”

Pulling away, you failed to control your smile. “Okay– well–, good night! Make sure to sleep well!” 

“Same to you, Obinata. I expect you to be awake for class tomorrow.” 

You sweat dropped, laughing awkwardly before making a break for the door. 

“Y/N-senpai, are you sure? Two v one sounds a little bit unfair–” Haibara stared at you wearingly. Like clockwork, every morning the two of them would meet you somewhere along campus to train.

You sat on the ground, your right leg slung around to curl behind you. You had your left leg stretched out in front of you, and every few seconds you’d reach forward to touch your toes. 

Haibara and Nanami had continued to train with you your entire second year, and now, as a third year you could definitely say it was worth the improvement. Both boys, not just Haibara, had grown stronger.

Getting Haibara stronger had been a long term objective, seeing as he wouldn’t have been killed on his mission so easily if he had been prepared. The two of them needed this boost, and you weren’t shy from a good workout. Needless to say, you were confident in Haibara’s chances of survival.

Moving to stand, you shook out your hands before slinging your arm behind your head. 

“Yeah, I'm dead serious.” Releasing your arm, you rolled your shoulder, leaning to the other side as you stretched. “We’ve worked on some one on one fights, but you two are partners. You have to work well together in order to work at all, right?” 

Nanami hummed in agreement. “I suppose you’re right.”

“So, no hard feelings then!” You clapped your hands together, having finished your stretches for that morning. “If you beat my ass, that's a good thing!”

Haibara sweat dropped. “Since when is getting beat up a good thing–?”

“Because it means my year as a teacher hasn’t been for nothing! One day you’re gonna beat me, swear on it.” You reached your hand out towards him, challenging him to shake you on it.

“I–“ The boy's face exploded, eyes flickering between your hand and your face. “I– oh–“

Nanami sighed, pushing the boy forward by his shoulder. “Let’s hurry up and start.”

Haibara took your hand, shaking it vigorously before letting go. “Right–! Okay, let’s start!”

You smirked, watching as the two boys walked to their side of the field. They had grown much more confident, especially when they were together.

Walking back to your own side of the field, you narrowed your eyes— assessing the situation. Nanami was a hands-on fighter, and so was Haibara. They complimented each other well, considering if one of them had blind spots- the other would be right behind them to cover it. 

When it came to fighting the two of them, you used to be able to say you outweighed them in physical strength. But as time would have it, and hard work paid off— the same couldn’t be said anymore. 

You’d have to account for both bodies, which was a little tricky when it came to your cursed technique.

Pendulum Negative was very useful in the terms that you could reset one person individually, or everything all at once. You had grown interested in the prospect of increasing the amount of objects you could rewind at once, and not in the way that you would kill them. 

Like you did with Riko, you were able to rewind her physical existence to a point where she wasn’t hit by a train– thus, bringing her back to life. With various curses, you were able to rewind their life to a time where they didn’t exist– which destroyed them instead.

When Pendulum Negative is applied to time itself, you could rewind back to a moment— one that you are consciously aware of. 

So, this could be good practice for you. 

Of course, in order to make objects themselves rewind, you had to have some sort of contact with them. Whether it was with a cursed tool, or your hands- you would have to be close up to an opponent. 

“Are you two ready?!” You called over with your hands, waiting for their response. 

Unbeknownst to you, you had gained an audience; Satoru and Suguru sat farther away from you, choosing the top of the bleachers to remain inconspicuous. 

“Yeah-!” Haibara cheered back, throwing you a thumbs up. Nanami merely nodded. 

“Aaaalright!” You brought your foot behind you, preparing to rush forward. “3.”

You watched as they dropped into position, eyes narrowing in concentration before they turned to look at eachother.

“2!” You controlled your breathing, sighing out as you closed your eyes. 

“1!” With that, you launched yourself forward, torso low to the ground.

Haibara and Nanami started with a sprint as well, the latter surrounding his fist with cursed energy. 

Nanami swung at you first, eliciting you to jump back in response, narrowly missing a punch Haibara sent behind you. 

Nanami’s technique allowed him to pinpoint weak points on an enemy and maximize the damage dealt to them. Haibara on the other hand, had a physical ability that focused around his hands. On contact, his cursed energy would cause your muscles to freeze up due to an electric like shock. 

Swinging your leg up into a roundhouse kick, you nearly made contact with Nanami’s head— but he managed to dodge. Suspecting another hit from behind, you dropped into a squat. Using your momentum, you pulled yourself into a drop kick- successfully hitting your target this time.

Nanami fell to the ground, and with the little time you had, you attempted to flip yourself out of the way. Unfortunately Haibara was a step ahead of you, and you felt his punch make contact with the back of your head.

Sending you flying onto your back, you tumbled against the turf. His ability was almost akin to a taser, the feeling unforgettable as you were reminded of your time trying to break into Riko’s apartment.

You attempted to stand, groaning as the muscles in your back spasmed. Well fuck, it actually hurt.

“1!” With that, you pushed yourself forward, torso low to the ground. You had gone back to try again.

Unlike last time, you found it important to deal with Haibara first. His power was, in your opinion, the most annoying part about this fight. His hits alone made it difficult for you to move around, thus making you a walking target for Nanami.

Truly, if they had survived together the last time— they would’ve been an incredible team.

You really had your work cut out for you. God, you were so proud of yourself.

This time you raced towards Haibara alone, Nanami letting out a surprised noise as he had predicted you would come for him first. Nanami was a stronger fighter, so if you were playing to win quickly you’d come for him first.

“Haibara! Watch out—!” Nanami, understanding your plan now, offered a warning to his friend. Haibara looked at Nanami, a bit confused, before turning his head back. 

He was face to face with you.

You reeled your fist back, a small yell escaping your throat as you aimed for his face.

He quickly lifted his arm to block your hit, but hadn’t anticipated you’d counter so soon. Your left hand came around, looping with his own. You put all of your weight into your shoulder, leg coming to trip his heel from the ground. 

He slammed into the ground, the wind knocked right out of him. Snapping his eyes open, he was looking above you. Following his gaze, you realized that Nanami had gained on you and was leaping through the air. 

You sucked in a breath, the close proximity between the two of you surprising. He had gotten faster. 

Attempting to use your rewind ability, you were too late as his fist met with your face. Unable to think correctly, your technique was useless, and you tumbled to the ground.

Why did your weak points have to be your head?! This was the second time! 

Groaning, you moved to sit up, but the feeling of someone’s grasp on your ankle made you scream. 

Nanami was going to swing you around like the fucking hammer throw?!

Grasping at the dirt, you threw a glance back over at him. Concentrating your energy to your foot would be difficult, considering by the time you transferred it, you’d already be in the fucking air.

So, you tried something new.

Focusing on the dirt in front of you, you imagined Nanami’s legs behind you. If you could focus your cursed energy through the ground, thus making contact with Nanami— perhaps you could rewind him.

You watched as the patch of grass started to die, before it sprung to life again- only to grow gray once more. The seasons it has been through we’re making themselves evident now.

Unfortunately for you, it turned out that this plan of yours was not working. With a shrill shriek, you were lifted off the ground.

“Nanami-?! NANAMI PUT ME DOWN—“ You screamed, eyes frantically watching as the grass below you grew farther away. “I’m sorry for telling you to cut your hair-! I'm sorry—!”

Haibara was sitting up now, sweat dropping as he watched as Nanami had a hold on your shirt collar now. You were freaking out over basically nothing, the blonde boy having not gone through with his attack. 

You looked like a cat, being held by the scruff by its mother. 

“Are you done?” Nanami stared lazily.

“Yep-! Yep, so done! Good job you two-!” In all honesty, you could continue this fight by going back- but did you want to? No?!

After sustaining two hits from either of the boys in front of you, you wanted to cry. They had seriously buffed up. You always hated physical types.

With fighters like Satoru and Suguru, your agility was what made you a great opponent. They focused more on attacks that weren’t relentless and preferred to keep their distance.

In short, you were better off as an offensive fighter. You needed to work on your defense. 

“You two seriously work well together!” You were returned to the ground, and whipped around to face them. “Nanami, you’re totally scary! Good calibration skills, you managed to figure out my plan pretty fast.” 

“I still don’t understand what you were trying to do..” Nanami muttered. “You should’ve come for me first.”

“Uh uh uh.” You shushed him, swaying your finger in his face. “There’s a very specific reason an enemy would go for Haibara first. You need to take account of that.” 

“..For me?” Haibara pointed at himself, a little confused. “But Nanami-“

“Nuh uh.” 

“NUH UH?!” Haibara whined, reaching for an explanation.

“Think about it and get back to me.” You nodded, dusting off your clothes. “I have to get ready for class. I promised Takeuchi-Sensei I would be awake for first period-“

You were indeed not awake for first period. 

Slumped over your desk, your teacher stood behind you. Takeuchi-Sensei was tweaking, to put it lightly. 

Coming up to pinch her nose, Takeuchi’s hands shook. “Obinata…”

Gojo watched with great interest, amusement written all across his face. He was disappointed those two second years got the best of you, but realistically, there was nothing you could do. As for why you didn’t use your abilities till you came out victorious, he was unsure. 

Geto laughed, Shoko choosing to take a photo of your sleeping face as she sent it to him. They’d use this as blackmail, surely. 

“Obi-Chan was out training those second years this morning,” Gojo said, legs throwing themselves down on his desk. “The emo and the walking vibrator-“

Takeuchi whirled around, hand flying to cover her mouth in mock amazement.  “Walking vibrator? Where–“

“The second year! Haibara whatever his name is–” Gojo scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Me and Geto finished training and we stopped to watch.”

Interest immediately falling from her face, Takeuchi’s palm collided with your desk. The loud noise jolted you awake, and you shouted in response. Looking up, you curled into yourself a little more.

“Obinata…” she muttered lazily. 

“Yes... ma’am?”

“Detention.” 

“Why?! Class hasn’t even started yet!“

“Class started fifteen minutes ago.” Shoko chimed in, hanging her phone in front of your face. The picture she had taken graced your eyes, and you let out a whine in disapproval. 

“Shoko, who’s side are you on–?!”

She laughed, ripping it away from you. She returned to her own desk, throwing a look Gojo’s way. “Sorry babe, I didn’t know you were practicing with a vibrator all morning.” 

“I–“ you stuttered, exasperated. “What the fuck?!”

Satoru laughed, throwing a wink your way. “Yeah, don’t pretend you weren’t all over our precious second years-- I knew you were into old guys, but the young too?! There's gotta be a word for that!” 

“Cougars.” Geto nodded, feigning disappointment. 

“Spend time with me, Obi-Chan!” Gojo whined. “I’m the same age but compared to you I still have the glow of youth–” He let out a yelp as Takeuchi-sensei’s hand collided with his head. 

“Speaking about hanging out, we should go out later tonight. Let’s go do karaoke and hit up a bar-” Shoko smiled, but was cut off at the sound of your classroom door slamming open.

Your newly appointed principal stood in all his exhausted glory, seeing as of now, he was also still teaching the second year class. The promotion had been sudden, apparently, as the last principal had made an unlucky end to the hands of a shark-curse. Jaws always had scared the shit out of you.

“I hope you don’t do anything stupid.” Yaga cut Shoko off, throwing you a look as he stepped into the room with a small stack of files. “I hope you make responsible decisions, considering Obinata’s got a very important mission to go on tomorrow.”

A mission? No way–

“Really–?!” You shot up, the threats of after school detention long forgotten. “Where?!”

“You and Suguru–“ without hearing anything else, you squealed. 

Jumping up, you glanced over to Suguru, who looked just as surprised as your classmates. “Me and Y/N–?”

“Yes. Speak to me after class, I’ll give you more details.” 

Your teachers were beautiful miracle workers.

Chapter Text

You had spent hours physically and mentally preparing for this mission; the mission outline and background intel essentially memorized. You were so prepared, in fact, that you had to have an aggrieved Geto carry the medical supplies. 

A small village, but bigger than your own, of a hundred and twelve people who were all haunted by a curse. Poltergeists like this weren’t uncommon, normally developing after one or two unresolved deaths. You would know best as a similar curse-borne plague had broken out in your own village. 

You were expecting disease, withering bodies and disastrous sights of children begging for mercy, but instead you crossed the border to the sounds of bells and laughter.

What you weren’t expecting was it to be so lively. 

The village was beautiful, to say the least, streamers and children running amok as it was colorfully decorated. A festival in a time where villagers were going missing each night? 

Suguru stood beside you, biting the inside of his cheek as he looked over the town and was just as skeptical as you. He spared a considerate glance, as if to ask you what you were thinking.

You caught his eyes, a small smile playing from your lips. “Maybe it’ll be easier than we thought?”

Geto felt the air leave his throat, and his eyes widened. You smiled. To anyone else, sure, a smile was a smile. 

But to Geto? God, something must be wrong with him. 

“What? With the festival?” He answered, straightening his posture as he tore his eyes from your form to watch some children play games on the side of the street.

He wasn’t sure why, but when Yaga had assigned you to be on the mission with him— he had felt extremely happy. He was currently going through a period of self-doubt, questioning the motives behind the village heads enlisting Jujutsu tech to take over the case. They had been debriefed on the situation and they had made it very clear that the village did not not take kindly to curse users. 

If they didn’t appreciate the people willing to protect them, no matter what manner they employed, did they truly deserve to be saved?  

Any time that he felt those insecurities welling up, he would remember that the common people truly had no real grasp on the people that watched over them. If this village was humanity, then the jujutsu world was heaven.  

And Geto was convinced you were an angel. 

To Geto, Gojo was a god who moved mountains and willed the weather at his fingertips. Sometimes he didn’t agree with this deity, but life wasn’t made in Geto’s image— and he accepted that. 

Gojo was untouchable, but you.. he believed you were made in the image of humanity.

You were considerate, kind— ingenious. You did your best to help others first before ever thinking about yourself. With your ability, it made sense. How many times would you attempt to set things right at your own expense?

He wondered if you ever got tired.

“Yeah!” You answered nonchalantly and he watched as you stretched your arms while yawning. Cute. “To be honest, this is a little exciting. After we exorcise this curse, we have to enjoy ourselves a little.” 

He hummed in response, eyes flitting over the different food stalls. “If it doesn’t take us too long, maybe.” 

“Oh booo! So boring.” You shook your head. “I’m expecting you to promise me, Suguru Geto.”

“Promise?” He blinked down at you.

“Yeah. Promise me you’ll have fun.” You smiled, nudging him gently.

A rosy pink dusted his cheeks, and you quickly pulled away. “Ah- sorry, I just got excited.” You waved your hands in front of you and he felt a pang of regret for the loss of contact. 

“Why are you apologizing? It was kind of adorable, in your own way.” He focused his eyes back on your face, waiting to observe your reaction. 

“I just thought I overstepped–“

“I promise.” His eyes held your own, and you swore you felt your soul waver. They were captivating, and if you weren’t careful, you’d fall right in. “To have fun with you.”

“Ah…” Short circuiting, he watched in amusement as your face heated up incredibly fast. “…okay…”

He snorted, fingers coming to flick at your forehead. You dodged just in time laughing while he scoffed in feigned offense. For a moment he wished that Gojo was here with the both of you, just so he could watch the two of you banter. Before he could stop himself, he reached out a hand to pat your head while smiling fondly. He realized that moment that he may have gone too far as he watched your ears tinge pink.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem too bothered. “Let’s go curse hunting!” You cheered, diffusing the awkward energy as you grabbed ahold of his hand and pulled him along. He let out a strangled noise of surprise, before catching up with you, the bags he was lugging behind him clanking as he matched your pace.

“Y/N,” He spoke your name, eyes resting on your intertwined hands.

“Mhm?”

“I–“ The words he was going to say fell from his mind as he cleared his throat, eyes lifting up to your own. “I’m running out of candy.”

“Oh? That’s no problem.” You gave him a sincere smile. It was the kind of smile that caused the edges of your eyes to lift, and Geto couldn’t stop staring. “We can get more.”

His heart felt like it was going to fly out of his chest. “Sounds good.”

As the two of you headed to the house you were supposed to be staying in, you both took note of the villagers giving the two of you scathing looks. As if your presence was unwanted and unwelcome. He tightened his grip on your hand and the two of you quickened your pace almost involuntarily. 

“I’m starting to think we shouldn’t stay longer than we have to. We should complete this mission as quickly as possible.” You muttered, glancing up at Geto.

“Hm.” While dismayed that the time you meant to spend together was being cut short, he’d much rather have it be in peace. 

Today was turning out to be inauspicious. 

Finally, you spotted an old woman who sat on the edge of a house just beyond the main square. She looked worse for wear, like a particularly turbulent gale could do her in, hunched over and slowly slipping her shoes onto her feet. She took her time unbending herself and for a moment you wondered if you were gonna watch this lady kick the bucket before you could even be directed in the right direction.

Dragging Suguru along with you, you called out a greeting as you approached her. Unlike everyone here, she gave her own version of a warm welcome. Lukewarm at best, but you appreciated the effort.

“Oh, visitors—!” Her frail voice cracked as she gestured to you with her hand. “You must be the two Jujutsu Students they sent to help with our problem.”

“Yes ma’am.” You bowed your head, glancing over to see Suguru doing the same. You were glad you were on this mission with him and not Gojo; he wouldn’t have spared the old woman a glance– much less show any sort of respect. “We were hoping you could point us in the right direction? We don’t want to interrupt any of the festivities, we’re just here to do our job.”

“If I’m being honest, I’m getting the idea that you people don’t want us here.” You winced at his frank tone, though you couldn’t blame him.

The old woman gave Suguru an odd look, before she looked back at you. “Well, it’s against our culture to allow visitors into the village at this time, but with the growing number of missing children cases, we felt it was necessary. People like to pretend it’s not happening, so if you receive any ill natured comments, please ignore them.” 

“...Right, okay. Missing kids?” You thought back to the file Yaga had given the both of you. It was fairly empty, void of any detailed information. It seemed this village either knew nothing about curses, or was hiding something. You weren’t born an optimist, but with the sun shining down on your life lately, you could only hope for the best.

You were starting to see why this was the mission that had destroyed Geto’s faith in humanity. The whole situation had you tense, like there was something lurking around the corner waiting with a baseball bat. Hopefully the two of you could duck in time before you get clocked.

“I hate to seem so unprepared, but we weren’t given much.” You sat beside the old woman and for a moment she reminded you of your own grandma. Thankfully, she wasn’t as spiteful as Granny Obi— this lady was a sweetheart.

“Oh, I wouldn’t expect them to say much at all– it’s embarrassing to ask the help of those who work with the devils.” She shook her head. “Unfortunately, I don’t know much at all about children. Their poor parents have locked themselves away in their houses and refuse to leave or talk about the whole ordeal. It breaks my heart to see them in such pain.”

In the corner of your eye, you caught Geto’s brow furrowing and his eyes darken in response to being deemed ‘demonic’. It wasn’t unusual for political heads to be aware of the Jujutsu society, but most misinterpreted sorcerers completely, considering the abilities to be occult in origin. 

“Well, it’s okay. We’re going to continue to look around.” Sensing that you needed to cut the conversation short, you stood back up and adjusted your skirt, offering the women a courteous wave. “I hope you have a wonderful night, ma’am.”

“You too, dearie.” She chimed back to you, but her eyes were trained on Suguru. “Stay out of trouble, will you?”

“Ah–“ You could sense the rising tension. “We will. Let’s go, Suguru–“ You reached for his arm to pull him away, holding tight to his uniform in your haste. 

You turned on your feet, sighing and scolding yourself for being so trusting. Maybe you were wrong about this woman being a sweetheart.

“Son, you’re a lucky boy.” Her voice rang out from behind you. “Many would kill for a girlfriend who cares as much as she does.”

For as much hatred that welled in his heart for that hag, he could at least agree with her on that. 

“I am.” He smiled, but his eyes told a different story; he was borderline predatory. His gaze challenged her, daring her to try something. 

“Well, we aren’t–“ You went to correct her assumption, but Suguru was quick to turn you back around, leading you away with a hand at the small of your back. 

“It’s best we keep our talking to a minimum. We don’t want to give them any more reason to hate us.” Suguru lightly whispered in your ear, and you shuttered at the proximity. “Afterall, we are demonic.”

“Right, as if you haven’t done a great job at that already?” You snickered to yourself. 

“Oi, that wasn’t my doing. She was staring at me strangely even before I opened my mouth.” 

“Probably because you look like you were in the middle of a Braxton-Hicks contraction, lighten up.”

He stopped walking at that, eyes blown wide. “Excuse me?”

“You know, like when you’re about to give birth?” You stop him for a second, an evil grin crossing your features. “Wait, have you never heard of mpreg?” 

“Do I want to?” He felt like he was imploding, mind caught in the crossfire of a mental breakdown. 

“No, probably not.“ You laughed awkwardly, raising your hand to fan at his blushing face.

His hand was quick to halt your movement, grabbing your wrist. His piercing eyes stared down at you, and you let out a sound of shock in response. “Suguru?”

Suguru thought he was dying, and for once in his life? He was okay with it.

To say he had been battling his thoughts was an understatement. Yes, he was thinking of the unspeakable in terms of betraying Jujutsu Society, but that wasn’t what he was currently fighting. if he had left Jujutsu Tech to pursue his dark fantasy of a better world— one without non-sorcerers— he would be betraying you and Gojo. 

Being this close to you, holding your hand, being mistaken for your partner– this was all too much for him. Every small act of kindness, every joke, every moment he had with you– it was truly driving him insane.

Fighting the urge to hold onto you even longer, he let go. 

“Sorry, I...” His mind was running a million scenarios a second. “I was just thinking.”

You and Suguru had spent the last two hours running in circles. You had checked every home, and now, the two of you were working on investigating the outer woods of the village. Suguru had even gone as far as to climb down one of the wells, and yet, the source of the cursed energy was nowhere to be found. 

“I’m stumped.” You groaned, leaning against a tree. (Haha get it? Stumped? No?) “We’ve looked all over.”

“The village stretches out beyond the woods, from what I’ve gathered. They recently built more homes and relocated, which is where we were.” Geto stood across from you, chin in his hand as he was deep in thought.

You went quiet, mouth opening to say something, but it immediately closed. Your eyes widened as you had an epiphany. They must be covering something up.

“I’m getting the idea–“ “I’m starting to think–“ You both cut eachother off at the same time, quickly pausing to look at each other once more.

“You first.” Geto gestured towards you.

“I’m getting the idea that the curse isn’t in this village at all.” You pushed yourself up off the tree, walking towards him. “If what you say is true, and the village continues past the woods- the old town should still be there, right?”

Geto had been thinking the same thing apparently, nodding along to every word. “Correct, yes. I thought the same.”

“So, they’re hiding something and want to forget about it… even though they called us to deal with it?” You said, confused. Why try to abandon something, only to come back to it all over again? 

“Perhaps the curse is stuck to them. It’s a common occurrence, negative emotions cause curses to occur in the first place, so if they’re still influenced by those feelings...”

“It might still follow after them.” You finished his thought, the two of you smiling at eachother. It was so refreshing to work with someone who truly assessed the situation before rushing into a fight. (Ahem, Gojo).

With that, the two of you began to quickly advance through the forest. If you were right, just beyond a line of trees, an older version of this village would exist. Completely dormant, except for two little girls.

You hoped Suguru was easily persuaded.

When you made it out of the forest, you were met with damp, cold air. The once-vibrant colored townhouses were now sagging, roofs caved in as their windows stared blankly ahead, like hollow, abandoned eyes. 

Iron gates swung wildly near its entrance, hinges groaning in protest as the screeching of metal grated at your ears. On instinct you went to cover them, but Suguru was one step ahead of you. With as much patience as he could muster, he approached the gates— grabbing and willing them to stop.

You muttered a ‘thank you’ before continuing inside, eyes drooping slightly. You found that being around curses had always made you on edge. 

The gnarled tree in the center stood like a sentinel, its twisted, dead branches reaching for the sky. The roots snaked through the ground, disturbing the cobblestone paths that trailed around them. 

You came to the conclusion that the townspeople had once gathered here for festivals, now, the square was a desolate stage. Beyond the square, a shrine laid before you. The torii gate was withered and splintered, marking the boundary between the living and the spectral. Moss clung to its stone steps, and the shrine's roof sagged under its own weight.

A nearby house seemed to be surrounded in gray, suffocating smoke. Unlike real smog, it leaked cursed energy, and you knew in your gut you had found it. As Jujutsu Tech had only received limited details on the case, it was difficult to classify. But it was estimated to be a semi-first grade, so defeating it wouldn’t be the only irritating part. No, that was changing Geto’s mind. 

“Well. I think we found the place.” You said sarcastically, throwing your friend a look of uncertainty. 

He nodded grimly. “Seems so. Let’s go in and deal with this quickly. It shouldn’t be too hard.”

You wanted to say something, maybe to warn him of what he’d see— but you found yourself at a loss for words. Anything that you could come up with to encourage him paled in comparison to the sight the two girls of you were going to be faced with. 

It crushed your heart to think how in his past life, even in his broken state of mind, he still cared wildly about the two girls he raised as if they were his own daughters. Geto was a man who was misunderstood, and you were hellbent on being his understanding. 

The Geto you knew was not a ‘good’ person in the literal meaning of the term, but he was selfless in his own way, for his own people. The pivotal moment of his deviation came from the need to protect those who could not do so themselves, just as you were all taught. That Geto had foregone his identity, knowing full well his life was going to be completely altered, all for the sake of these children. And having lived and fought just to be defeated time and time again, you were beginning to understand him. 

You just hope that you would be able to change his understanding a small amount, just enough to show him that non-sorcerers didn’t deserve that same compassion

“Yes sir.” Was the only response that came to mind, and you quickened up your pace to catch up with him. 

The semi-first grade had been easily taken care of, mauled to death by its own kind— a curse released from Suguru’s technique.

To say you expected something bad couldn’t even begin to cover the scene before you.

Even before you had seen the room, you could smell the rot that festered beyond those walls. Then came the whimpering; tiny, almost imperceptible cries that wrenched at your heart, causing the blood to drain from your face. Finally, you saw them.

Two girls, small and tattered, were left alone to die in this house. Forgotten and abandoned by the village that had mercilessly locked them in here. 

You worked hard to process the image in front of you and connect it to the girls you knew from before, but you were left grasping at straws. Their emaciated faces, covered in tears and snot, looked at you and Geto with such despair that you couldn’t move a centimeter, not even daring to breathe.

For the past few months, Mimiko and Naniko had haunted your nightmares. The thought of this moment had terrified you, but the truth behind such a simple story struck you with the full weight of its severity. 

You were in a dimly lit room, boards meticulously stacked against the windows to block all traces of the outside world. The floorboards were covered in dirt, grime, and dust. It smelled like hell, and the high temperature made you feel faint.

Your heart clenched, and turning your gaze towards Geto for just a moment—

Rage emanated from every pore of Suguru’s skin, almost palpable in its nature. His expression was stone-cold, chilling in comparison to the boiling heat that permeated the room. The skin on his forehead was pulled taut, veins pulsing like angry rivers that laid beneath the surface. His eyes, once familiar, seemed to possess shards of obsidian— hard, unyielding, and sharp enough to pierce.

Without realizing it, you found the same rage growing within you. Your jaw was clenched, the muscles of your mouth flexed into a harsh expression. His dissociative state scared you.

The air around him seemed to crackle, cold and unforgiving. It nipped at you and you swore you could feel the chills that ran up your spine. The tips of your fingers had frozen, and you wondered if you truly stumbled into something you couldn’t fix.

“Sugur-“ You started and his eyes darted to you, wind catching in your throat.

“Y/N.” His voice was dangerously close to a whisper, and you could see his hands clenched tightly at his sides. “…what the hell is this?”

You didn’t answer, finding yourself at a loss for words.

He took a step forward, and the girls in front of you scrambled to the back of their cage, one knocking her arm against a bar in her haste to escape. To your surprise, she made no indication of pain, not a cry and not even a wince. She was only frightened. Of course they both were.

You moved ahead of him, placing your hand gently against his chest to push him back half a step. “…Let me.” 

“…what?” For a brief moment, you felt he was going to fight you instead. 

“Suguru, please.” You were begging. “Trust me.”

Something flicked in his eyes, momentarily bringing back light to his expression. It vanished as soon as it appeared. 

“I trust you.” 

Stepping forward, your lungs involuntarily staggered, breaths becoming uneven. In front of you was an iron prison that held not just broken innocence, but shattered remnants of hope. 

Their faces were withered with terror, eyes wide like that of a wounded animal. Matted hair clung to their tear-streaked cheeks, and their bodies trembled with exhaustion. The clothes they wore were tattered, stained with dirt, bodily fluids, and dried blood. Both girls huddled closely together, small hands clasping each other with the intention of never letting go.

“Please—“ One of them whispered, her voice barely audible due to the hoarseness of her throat and you could barely make out her cracking words. “Please let us go— we won’t tell anyone, please open the door–“

Suguru let out a barely suppressed noise, and you briefly glanced back at him. Mustering all the optimism you had, you sent him a shaky smile. Trust me .

“We’re not going to hurt you.” Lowering yourself to the ground, your nose wrinkled. The smell only got worse the closer you got to them, and suddenly— you saw them.

Around the girls, cages were thrown carelessly around the room, filled with deceased bodies of children you hadn’t reached in time. In horror, you felt as if you might vomit.

You swallowed it down, hard, clearing your throat in disgust at the scene and at yourself. Reaching forward, you clasped one hand around a bar. “My name is Y/N Obinata,” you started, bowing your head. “I am a student at Jujutsu Tech, and we are here to rescue you.”

Hope seemed to grow in their eyes as your words registered

“This guy here is Suguru Geto, we’re here to save you, ok? We are never going to hurt you, nor will we let anyone.” You looked behind you, and your heart shattered.

Suguru looked at you in disbelief, as if he hadn’t expected any other outcome than violence. You knew for a fact that he had intended to turn this small village into a mass grave once freeing the girls. But you couldn’t let that happen. You wouldn’t let him walk that road again.

“He is one of my closest and kindest friends.” You breathed in through your mouth this time, trying to control your gag reflex as you realized the taste of the air was worse than the smell. “Can you trust me?”

The two girls looked at eachother, before simultaneously bursting into tears. With hesitation, the two of them reached out to you, hands quickly wrapping around your wrist from inside the cage.  Broken pleas worked their way into cracking away at your determined, stable expression. You could truly understand everything Geto had felt back then, and you so badly wanted to hold him, to keep him from breaking apart.

Without a second thought, you grabbed the lock to the swinging door. Your technique activated, and with precision, it withered away to ash in your hands. 

The door broke open with the girls pushing it, and they crashed into you. Their combined force sent you to the ground, falling onto your back with surprise. They hugged you, relentlessly hiding their faces into your uniform. 

Looking up at Geto, you saw tears spilling from his eyes. Unable to hold yourself together, you finally let yourself fall apart. 

You felt as if the walls were closing in on you. The heat of the room was suffocating you, squeezing the air from your lungs. Every beat of your heart filled your ears, drowning out any ounce of reason. You felt your vision narrow, dots of black dancing around the ceiling, tunneling into a pinprick of panic. Your chest rose and fell faster with each breath you took, but oxygen eluded you, slipping through trembling fingers. 

You’re drowning on dry land, submerged in invisible waves of dread. The world was tilting, and you couldn’t control it. You were supposed to have control weren’t you? You knew what was going to happen, and yet you couldn’t control yourself?  

You gagged in the smell of the room, and your body shuddered. When did you forget how to breathe ? Humans were born with only a few natural instincts, and one of them was breathing . How fucking hard were you making this for yourself ?

Were you making this hard for everyone else? By reliving these memories, this life– were you making everyone else do the same?

Breathe. You reminded yourself, but all that escaped you were harrowing sobs. Breathe . You commanded yourself this time, and your body refused to listen. You felt as if you were dying, as if all the muscles in your body fell slack against your will.

Slowly but surely, you were able to calm the girls in your arms, feeding them some snacks that you had stored away in your bag for emergencies. This only left you and Suguru to decide what you should do next.

Conversation was strained and you found yourself struggling to speak. 

After your episode, Suguru had to ease you out of it, patiently running small circles into your back. Afraid you were going to vomit, he had taken the hair tie out of his own ponytail to hold yours in place. 

But now, Suguru’s tension was thick enough to cut and you were afraid of saying the wrong thing. He could explode at any moment.

You chose to wait, and allow him to make the first move. That didn’t take long as the silence was eventually broken.

He spoke your name delicately, like the word might break under the pressure of his tongue. “I want to kill them.”

“The people in the village?” You asked despite yourself, knowing the answer wasn’t acceptable. 

“Yes.” His response was automatic. “Do you blame me?” His eyes wouldn’t match your own, and you found yourself doubting yourself entirely.

“…I don’t blame you.” You admitted truthfully, sucking in a breath. “But I can’t let you do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because your life is worth living.” You kept it short.

He screwed his eyes into a glare, confused at what you were getting at. 

You had all left that god awful room behind, leaving the corpses of the other children to be collected at another time, returned to their families for proper burial. You sat on the porch of the townhouse, both sleeping girls resting against your lap and shoulder. You didn’t mind it, really. You had surrounded yourself around children so much— it had become second nature at this point.

“I’m not going to let you ruin your life over people who don’t matter. What they say doesn’t matter. We’re demonic? So what? Let them believe it.” 

In his silence, you continued. “You might think protecting the weak and unaware is foolish— but I want you to take a closer look.” You gestured to Mimiko and Naniko, smiling softly to yourself as you ran your fingers through their hair. “These are the weak. We aren’t just protecting non-sorcerers. If you truly abandoned us, you’d be allowing things like this to continue.”

“But those people-“

“With all due respect Suguru, crime is everywhere.” You raised your head to look at him. “Before we officially met, you thought I killed my family, right?”

Geto sucked in a breath. 

“That would make me no different than these people.”

“But you didn't , I know that–“

“You might think cleansing the world will solve everything, but sorcerers are just as capable of creating curses and taking advantage of others. To get what you want? You’d have to murder the entire world. It’s impossible.”

“Satoru would have the power-” 

“When I mean everyone, I mean everyone. Satoru or not, he’d have to kill me and you . Even with being the strongest, I don’t think he has the strength to do that.”

“Why are you trying to stop me-?”

"Because letting you go is a sin I can never forgive myself for.” His expression faltered, and you could see that you were finally getting through to him. “I used to hate waking up every morning. I used to hate living- I wanted nothing more than to just disappear for such a long time. You know what made me stop?”

Suguru didn't want to believe the answer.

“You.” You stepped closer to him, narrowing your eyes in determination. “You, Satoru, Shoko- you are people I want to protect. Saving people is what made me realize that this life is worth sticking around for, and if you're so hellbent on sacrificing every good thing you have for a cause you'll never achieve? Well, I'm here to stop you and remind you that sometimes there are other solutions. If you’re so focused on what you’ve lost- on what you hate? You’re never going to get anything out of it.”

“Your life is worth living, so start fucking breathing.”

Chapter Text

Suguru was right about one thing, you truly were an angel.

It was as if you were swathed in sunlight, a comforting warmth emitted from the halo around you, drawing him towards you like a moth to a flame. Your light was inviting– intoxicating. He had to look away or he’d fly right into it. 

The mission had been on a downward spiral from the start, and Suguru Geto was at war with himself. One voice was screaming at him to wipe this town clean from life, and the other— he still didn’t understand.

Suguru Geto had struggled with love his entire life. He had long come to terms with the feelings that he had for his closest friend; a relationship that walked the fine line of companions and something deeper. At some point in their second year, he understood those feelings to be love. He loved Satoru for the person he was: the asshole, the god, and the human that existed underneath of it all. 

Now he feels those same emotions welling within his chest when he looks at your face and hears you speak. When you went out of your way to train your underclassmen and praise them even when they surpassed your physical stamina. The proud looks you gave your cousin and the Fushiguro siblings when they talked about their school days. 

Looking into your eyes now, he could feel the burning desire scorch his chest and heat his throat, if he could just…

Stepping away, he walked to the other side of the porch to think. 

You were right. You always were, and he was starting to suspect that it wasn’t due to an excellent intuition. It was like you had divided the future itself. What happened with Riko Amanai couldn’t be attributed to coincidence; you knew too many details, things that he never would have accounted for unless it was years down the line. You had figured it out without their help and they had only caught you with one scrap of evidence. There wasn’t any indication that you were going to even tell them the girl they were protecting was alive, and instead of hating you for it, he respected you. 

Suguru had comfortably taken second place to Satoru’s title of being the strongest. But he never accounted for you, turning a blind eye to what you were capable of and coming to the realization that you had so much potential. He couldn’t understand how he didn’t see it in the first place.

He turned to look at you, but choked back his spit when he realized you had followed him. You stood less than a meter away, placing your hand on his shoulder and stealing his breath while you were at it. 

“I care about you, Suguru.” Every ounce of doubt in his body disappeared. “I don’t want to lose you.”

He looked down at your hand and covered it with his own. “You won't have too.”

You both decided that the best course of action was to confront the village, though you were unsure what to do beyond that. You both had a child laid across your back as you walked, it wasn’t difficult as their bodies were so malnourished for their age. Nanako was knocked out across Suguru’s shoulder, while you could hear the faint snore of Mimiko vibrating through your own uniform. 

It was easy to come to the conclusion that the children’s disappearance had nothing to do with the curse you had defeated. If anything, it was reasonable to come to the conclusion that what the villagers were doing was what created that monster in the first place. It was worse when you had checked over the girls for injuries and saw large, very much human, handprints bruised into their skin like manacles. 

Those parents that now coward within their house surely played a large role in their missing case. The village was small enough that word must spread like wildfire, and their cowardice disgusted you. To hide away in their homes now? Were they ashamed at what they had done or just spineless?

You were still worried for Suguru. He had promised you that his violent thoughts, though hard to ignore, had been quelled. You were both relieved and proud of yourself, in a manner of speaking. In fact, to call it relief was an understatement, considering you started crying like a baby while simultaneously crushing him in a hug. 

So your plan that you inevitably came up with? Infiltrate the festival once securing the girls safety, and fuck it up. Yes, you knew you had to hold Suguru back from doing something unforgivable– but that didn’t mean these scum should be free from punishment. 

Before the village had been founded, it was only a small settlement containing one family. A father, mother, and set of twins. At one point, there had been more of the family, but the elders had long since died and the others had left for greener pastures; to seek fortune in the nearby cities. Both parents were loving, bending at the waist to keep their two children happy.

It was on a chilly fall day, the younger of the twins was to find a demon in the woods. In his terror, he threw the ax that he had with him at the monster, feeling as if he was instilling his very being into the blade. 

And without any resistance, his opponent was cleaved in two. 

From that day on, he noticed more and more demons, using his immense strength to effortlessly slay them. In order to protect his own family, he never told them of the beings he saw, much too afraid at how they would react if they knew of the magic he performed. 

One day, his older twin left the settlement, declaring he was old enough to forge a path for himself, and he would be sure to send back any goods he collected in his adventures.

Unfortunately, he would not be successful. 

One cool spring day, he was walking in the woods with a young girl he was courting from the west city. And it was here that they encountered another demon, except they were unable to see it. All they could feel was the atmosphere quickly collapsing around them, weights being pressed to their chest as they struggled to breathe. 

It stopped as quickly as it started, as an ax soared through the air, seemingly flying on its own, and directed itself right at his loves head.

He cried out and clutched her to his body, eyes searching wildly for the being that attacked them. His jaw dropped as he saw his own face. 

No, not his. His brothers. 

Leaving her body behind, he raced back to the west city and approached the father of his lover, explaining the situation through his tears. At once they had formed a mob to return back to his settlement and avenge her death. 

Upon returning to his childhood home, he found his parents joyous and subsequently stricken by the angry crowd. They pleaded for their eldest to stop and reconsider, surely that man in the woods wasn’t his brother. 

But his mind was set and there were no words that could placate the flames that had overtaken his heart. 

They found his younger twin after searching the whole night, and the young man could only beg for understanding, but his brother refused to hear him out, claiming he had seen him wielding the power of demons to maneuver the ax. 

He wouldn’t relent, claiming the girl had been a demon; that he had been hunting demons in the woods for years now, but this only outraged the people further. 

All things must come to an end, and as the younger brother was about to be killed by his own flesh and blood, he couldn’t bring himself to fight back, closing his eyes as the blade came down on him. 

With time, that older brother established a village in the same area he grew up in. And in celebration of its creation, a festival was to be held each year.

The Yokaiya Moon Festival. 

In one of the small houses sat a woman, tangled hair cascading down her back as she hadn’t removed her ribbon for days. 

When she was young, she had moved to this village; she and her husband were star-crossed lovers, yearning for the endless possibilities that the future held. In just a year, their family had grown to three as they welcomed their baby boy into the world. 

Keiji was a good kid. Everyone in their community that had known him could attest to that. Always eager to help his mother with chores, to help the grannies cook dinner, to protect other children…

He had many friends, but his closest was Hidey-chan . He first met them when one of the balls he had been playing with rolled into an abandoned house, and there he was, hunched in the corner as if willing himself to become one with the wall. 

Though Keiji had been spooked, he quickly got over his fears. His mama always told him big boys don’t cry in the face of fear, they take it head on! So, he puffed up his chest and stuck his hand out to the person in the corner. “Hi! I’m Keiji! What’s yours? How’d ya get in here?”

The shadow flinched back before murmuring a quiet, “I dunno…”

Though slightly off-put, Keiji barged right through the tension. “Well, since you're all tucked away like that, Imma call you Hidey, whaddya think?”

“...” 

“Hidey-chan, do you know any games?” He asked, ignorant to whatever his new friend thought of their name. 

For the first time in their conversation, they visibly perked up, “Yeah…”

“Show me! The other kids only wanna play ‘cops and robbers’; I’m sick of it!” 

His mother had been concerned when he mentioned his new friend, but quickly consoled herself. He was a child! Of course he would have an imaginary friend to play with, this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. 

However, her husband thought differently. 

One night, while trying to sleep, she was awoken to the sound of her baby boy crying; a gut wrenching noise that haunted the nightmares of any mother. 

She was on her feet in an instant, bursting out of her room to the sight of her husband and other men from the village, her neighbors , dragging her child out of the front door. She tried the best she could to get to him, fighting tooth and nail against her husband as he held her back, until she could no longer hear the shrieks of her son and her own grief overtook the room. 

She struck out once more, cracking him across the face and reaching for his neck, her fingers clawlike. “WHY? WHERE DID YOU TAKE MY BABY?”

In an instant she fell to the floor as he back-handed her. “HE WAS CONSORTING WITH DEMONS! I saw him playing alone in the woods, talking as if someone was REALLY THERE! When I dragged him home, it felt like my own arm was being torn apart. He’s of the devil!” 

“He’s our son,” She rasped out, tears soaking the floorboard beneath her. “He’s a child , they do weird things! They create friends to play with all the time, it is normal!”

The look he had given her in response was full of terror, as if she was a completely different woman than the one she had married. Before she could say anything else, he dragged her to her feet and threw her into their room, locking the door from the outside as he did. 

No matter how much she pounded on the door, he refused to listen, and a wild fear curled its way into her heart. What would they do to her? To her child? Would they–

Soon, days had passed. Perhaps even weeks. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get a word from the man she had married; she was only met with silence and rough hands. 

Then, it was the week of the festival. 

And the change in attitude was staggering. The man who was once so cruel was now pulling her from the room, telling her to dress in her best clothing and directing her to sit at the table. 

“I know we’ve been at odds these past few weeks, but let’s look past it, ok, honey?” He spoke so sweetly, so saccharine, as he laid out a bowl of soup in front of her. “I went through so much trouble making this for us, haha, you really are the better cook.”

The mother could only stare blankly at the spoon, her voice so low it was almost imperceptible. “Where’s our son?”

“Hmm?”

“Where’s Keiji?”

The man only clicked his tongue. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask.” He scooped up a small amount of the broth and blew on it to cool. “He just… went on ahead of us.”

She stopped breathing.

He laughed awkwardly to diffuse the tension, slurping up his soup loudly. “He was always so brave, just how you raised him.”

Without a thought in her mind she picked the bowl up in front of her by the rim and threw it in his face, grabbing the spoon as he cried out in pain. And using the blunt end she sent him downwards, to a place he will never be able to reach his child again. 

And now, from that small house, the woman left to attend the festival. 

You and Geto shared a look as you heard the history of how the town had been founded by the village head. You could only wait for the right opportunity to strike, to find a point in the crowd to break through to do small and lasting damage. 

You both decided that while killing him could be unforgivable, there was no harm in physically disabling him. 

The celebrations of the festival were reaching their peak as a large paper demon in the shape of a man was burned at the center and their leader took the stage to give his speech. You cut through the crowd at that moment, sneaking and making your way to him as quickly as possible while Geto stood back, ready to summon a ‘harmless’ curse. 

(Really, you made him promise.)

But you and the crowd froze as soft wails echoed around you, loud enough that they could travel through the village heads mic to the surrounding speakers. It was then that you saw a woman, collapsing on the stage and holding her head in her hands.

Hushed whispers of judgment flowed through the crowd like a river and you realized they knew her as their own. 

The village head could only awkwardly chuckle, his eyes searching for security to come and drag her off the stage. Before they could, she lurched towards him and ripped the mic out his hands, tossing it to the side and creating an ear piercing feedback that had half the crowd covering their ears. 

You were a good distance away, but you were sure that even the outer ring of the village could hear her. 

“MY SON. YOU TOOK MY KEIJI AWAY FOR SOME FUCKING CRACK BELIEF IN DEMONS!” She raged at him, grabbing his collar and dragging him so that he was eye level. “YOU’RE THE FUCKING DEMONS!”

Something in your mind disobeyed your body, you wanted to move and help her, protect her from what they might do to her. You didn’t want to see someone struggle like this. 

You looked back towards Suguru and you saw that he was throwing you a questionable glance, the same thoughts running through his own mind. He began to gesture for you to move, but was cut off at the sound of the woman screaming. Tearing his attention away from you, he stared back to the stage.

It should be said that on this stage was not only the village leader, but also the ax from the story, passed down as a warning and symbol that they did not allow the demonic brother to continue his evil deeds. 

A mother’s anger was never to be underestimated. You had convinced yourself everyone in this village was a heartless monster, but it seemed that some mothers will always love their children unconditionally. 

With all the strength she could muster, that woman let out a banshee like shriek, hands grappling at the sacred ax that was dug deep into the altar. With every scream that came from her mouth, the wood splintered at the force of her pulling. As if her yelling had combined with the weapon, the unsheathing of the blade filled the air.

The ax, said to have slain demons and humans alike, glinted dangerously in the sun. At the sight of it, the crowd had come to a hollowing silence. You couldn’t make out the words of surprise that escaped the priest, as his screeches of terror filled that void. If not for your keen hatred for this place and its people, you were sure his face would haunt your nightmares.

“This is YOUR fault!” Her words had finally made their way to you, unholy yells releasing from the pits of her anger. “You’re the one who goes around spilling that shit of demons into young ears so they grow to be so hateful! You’re the reason my baby boy is dead!”

The leader could no longer give her response, his hands limp at his sides, but that did nothing to stop her. She was relentless. 

“He did nothing wrong!” The ax came up again, blood splattering as far as it could reach. “He did nothing wrong, and you smite him down as if God deemed him unworthy!” It came rushing down again, and the continuous crushing of the skull filled the air. “That’s the same god that willed him into existence!” She raised it again, and with a bated breath, forced it back down. “And it's the same god who will take you out of it!”

You watched in soundless suspense as the crowd was filled with screams. Suguru had anticipated this reaction, and in kind, had grabbed to pull you away. 

These people would surely stampede if this wasn’t dealt with. 

Perhaps that was for the best. An end brought about by their own hands was always the best answer. 

In all its glory, you hoped that woman wielded the newly named ‘bloody ax(e) spray’ and murdered all of these people in its wake. 

With a confirming nod, the two of you took off running into the direction in which Nanako and Mimiko had been hidden. With the help of one of Suguru’s curses, you both managed to get the hell out of dodge. 

You both sat on the train in pensive silence, Mimiko and Nanako sharing a seat in front of the two of you after eating as much candy as their little bodies could hold. So cute. 

The children in the cages and the woman from the stage spun endlessly in your head. A sight that will be a nightly visitor for years to come. You allowed the tears welling in your eyes to slip free, raising a hand to wipe them away but another reaching them before you could. 

For a moment, Suguru looked like he wanted to say something but was cut off by the sound of his phone ringing. Groaning, he took it out and answered, Gojo’s loud voice reaching your ears even when not on speaker. 

Not wanting to wake the girls up, you motioned for him to bring it to his other ear, leaning in so you could hear as well. “Hey, Satoru.”

“OBI-CHAN! How’d the mission go?”

Neither of you wanted to respond and in that momentary pause, Gojo grew somber. “Are either of you hurt?”

Geto shook his head as if he could see him. “No, neither of us were injured. We even have…” He trailed off to think of the right words as he looked at Nanako and Mimiko. “Two new additions to the Obinata clan.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, knowing full well you meant to take on the girls as your wards, but surprised he went ahead and declared it for you. “They’re really cute, you’re gonna love them.”

Gojo made an affronted noise. “Cuter than me?”

Geto rolled his eyes as you laughed. “I think so.”

“How about cuter than Obi-chan?” 

“A hard comparison. They’re children.”

“You don’t think Obi-Chan’s a little childish?”

Geto made a noise of contemplation. “No, not really.”

Gojo could be heard scoffing on the other line, only causing you to roll your eyes in annoyance. “You play favorites Suguru, it hurts my feelings.”

Damn, how much longer could these shameless assholes talk about you for? You knew you were a popular topic between the two of them, but you hadn’t guessed they were this desperate for your reaction. 

You turned away from Suguru before he could say anything else, choosing to rest your head on the headrest and feign sleep to avoid any awkward conversation.

Minutes ticked by and it seemed Suguru had ended the call, pocketing his phone and choosing to sit in ambient silence. You, however, were succumbing to your exhaustion from the day, and just as you were about to finally rest, you felt a touch of warmth to your lips.

Chapped, rough, clumsy warmth. 

Your heart dropped into your stomach and you use every ounce of strength within yourself to not react. 

Geto Suguru had just kissed you.

Chapter Text

“Because letting you go is a sin I can never forgive myself for.” 

That was what you had said. 

A simple, beautiful statement that instead of calming his mind— had uprooted more uncertainty than ever before. And as he stared down at your resting body on that subway train, he found himself stuck in his thoughts again.

Your choice of words had been odd. You had used ‘can’ instead of ‘couldn’t’, like it had happened before. Like you had let him go in the past— or in the future.

Your abilities, however sensible you tried to make them seem, had an uncanny sense of unfamiliarity to everyone around you. At moments, you could control individual objects, and at others? You controlled the moment itself.

Suguru wasn’t one to point fingers, but he was starting to think you knew more than you let on. 

Whatever the truth was, it didn’t matter. You had come back for him.

Suguru Geto couldn’t deny his infatuation with you. It bothered him, not understanding how or why this abundance of feeling had cultivated over the span of a few weeks. One second, you were a classmate— and now? You were everything .

The two girls they had saved slept across from them on the train, jolting slightly at every bump the shuttle made contact with. Their exhaustion had won them over, allowing Geto to confidently believe they would sleep the night away until they reached Tokyo. 

Brushing the hair out of your face, Suguru felt himself sucking in a breath. The subtle exhales released from your lips were hypnotic, pulling his mouth towards your own. Geto didn’t know what he wanted anymore, but some carnal desire ate away at his morality.

Suguru had never imagined your first kiss would be with him, after finding out you had never kissed anyone at all. Gojo told him after the events of the Casino Mission that you had never had your first. If Suguru knew any better, he imagined Satoru was planning on stealing your lips first.

But deep down, Suguru was a selfish man. Yes, he had set his visions for a new world aside at your plea— an ultimately selfless act— but he wasn’t sure he could contain all the thoughts in his head. 

Carefully leaning over you, he took the time to memorize the details in your face. The number of eyelashes that graced your eyelids, the way your nose slightly crinkled at the train car's sudden movement, even down to the way your bottom lip stuck out in a pout. 

With little to no more hesitation, he pressed his lips to yours. The nerves in his body were screaming at him to pull away, his better judgment sending signals to his brain in retaliation— but he didn’t move.

Of course, like most kisses— it was short lived. He pulled away eventually, clearing his throat as your expression remained the same. He would’ve preferred to have done it with your knowledge, truly, but something’s Suguru just couldn’t bring himself to stop. 

Moving his attention back to the screen that read the next stop, he relaxed into the back of his seat. Something about this situation seemed uncharacteristically domestic. You, two girls, and himself. He was sure that if someone were to see you in public, they would think you were a family. 

Before, he found himself quite jealous of the relationship you held with your other adopted children. Megumi and Tsumiki were two people you held near and dear to your heart, along with their questionably deadbeat father. He doubted the relationship you had with the man, but from recent experience, he seemed to trust your judgment.

He only hoped that you made the right choice by directing him onto this path, whether or not you truly came back to do it or not.

After getting off of the subway, the two of you had taken the two girls to a nearby hospital. They both had been checked out, medicated, and thoroughly cleaned by the staff under your supervision. The two girls had refused to be in a room without you, so being there for both of them was a daunting task, but you were prepared to be there every step of the way. Thankfully, this hospital was familiar with the works of Jujutsu Sorcerer’s, so they did little to question the condition the two of them had arrived in. It surprisingly didn’t take as long as you’d thought it would, so now all that separated you from your bed was the car ride to the school. 

Sitting in the car couldn’t have been a more unexplainable experience. The driver, enlisted by Jujutsu Society, was very confused by the look of two knobby-knee children climbing over Geto in the backseat. 

They were fairly quiet besides the minimal bickering, both girls arguing over who got to sit where. 

Puzzled, one of them had asked why you had to sit alone in the front– and in doing so, climbed over the front console and into your lap. You had to make due with the seatbelt tightly constricting your chest, but you made it work, wrapping your arms around her protectively. 

Suguru on the other hand, was busy trying to keep the other child buckled in her own seat. In retaliation to his direct orders, Nanako had continuously unclipped her seatbelt before launching herself towards your chair. He would catch her in the act every time, seeing as her repetition had made her moves predictable. 

“Can you–” Geto struggled, groaning as the girl had hit him in the chin with her hand. “Sit still?!” He was amazed at her complete 180, seeing as sass had distinctly become more evident in her personality.

“How about you–” Nanako grunted in response. “-let go!” 

On any normal occasion, you’d be laughing your ass off. But now? You found yourself at a loss for words.

Suguru Geto had kissed you, believing you had been asleep. What were you supposed to do? 

Pretend it had never happened?

You couldn’t do that, but at the same time– a part of you had too.

When you first woke up, you made a resolution to save your friends, and most importantly, your fiance Gojo Satoru. You had come to accept the fact that with your interference, you might not even end up with him in this life. In your old one, you could only imagine what competition Suguru could’ve been for you if he hadn’t left– but now? You didn’t have to imagine. He was here, and he was here to stay.

But he had kissed you.

This is where it really confused you, considering Suguru had also been Satoru’s first kiss. He was both of yours? 

You felt your face grow warm, and without a second thought you brought one of your hands to your cheek. Mimiko stared blankly up at you before copying your movement, placing her small palm against your face. 

“Onee-san…” Mimiko whispered, frowning slightly. “You’re really warm..”

And just like that, God was not on your side today.

You could feel Suguru’s attention rip away from whatever he was occupied with, turning to look at you with a harsh look. “Y/N? You’re sick?”

You sucked in a breath. This moment would surely impact the course of your life forever. 

“Yes. Very sick.” You feigned a cough, mustering all the dryness in your throat to come forward into a hoarse noise. 

Mimiko shriveled back, quickly deciding sitting in your lap was not worth the onslaught of germs. She took your sickness as a sign to move to the back seat, so she wasted no time as she jumped across the car's middle console. The driver went to say something, but bit their tongue. 

“When we get back to Jujutsu Tech, I’m going straight to bed. The girls can stay in your dorm, you can go bunk with Satoru.” You were quick to give direction, clearing your throat as you feigned illness. 

Suguru didn’t have much to say to that, and instead hummed in agreement. 

“We have to stay in some smelly boys room?” Nanako scoffed, fumbling with the ends of her hair. “Gross.”

“I’m sorry, I'd let you stay with me, really. I’m just not feeling well, I'd hate to get you sick.” You leaned back against the chair, reaching behind you to pat her head. She slightly recoiled in response, but eventually warmed up to your touch. 

Geto hummed thoughtfully, “Y/N, you should sleep in my room instead. I think the girls would prefer to stay in yours anyways.”

Flustered, your brain felt clouded from the events of that afternoon, and you readily acquiesced. 

You had already given Granny Obi a call saying there may be two new additions to your growing family. While she did sound excited, you could hear her cover the phone with a hand as she yelled at Toji to get another room ready. At this point, you’d have to make some investments for additions to the manor. 

Through careful correspondence, you both decided it was best if the twins were picked up sooner rather than later, with less chance of any other incidents happening. That also meant that their chauffeur would be… well, it’s better if you hope for the best. 

One fitful rest later and you were up at the ass crack of dawn with a grumpy Gojo and a half-awake Geto, waving at the girls as they drove away with Toji, of all people.

Convincing them to even leave your side when they had first seen the man had been a challenge in and of itself. Two pairs of terrified eyes sought yours and you couldn’t bear to look at them. Try as you might, Toji Fushiguro was a monster of a man. 

“Onee-san… you’re not really leaving us with him, are you?” Mimiko pleaded, holding fast to your skirt. 

You placed a hand on their shoulders as you led them forward. “He’s–” You thought hard for the right term. “Reformed.” 

Gojo laughed abrasively, causing all three of you to flinch violently. “Obi-chan, you’re not doing great at convincing them, you’d have better luck telling them to take the train by themselves.”

Nanako vigorously nodded her head. “I’ve gotten really good at directions–” 

She was cut off as Toji marched forward and grabbed the two girls by the back of their shirts, lifting them unceremoniously and throwing them into the back of the car. “See ya, Y/N, I’ll text when they're at the location.”

Your eye twitched and you reached out to hold Geto back from attacking him flat out. Gojo did not need to be unlocking Hollow Purple over a custody battle. A part of you feared the price that Toji was going to ask for, praying that a good amount of praise to Gojo’s bottomless ego would allow him to transfer whatever hefty sum it may be. 

However, you were surprised when you got the text message that this debt had been cleared… by tanghulu?

Granny Obi, the woman that you are. 

As the car drove out of sight, you tried your best to rub the exhaustion from your eyes, turning back to get more sleep before heading to class. Before you could get far, two pairs of arms grabbed you on either side and dragged you into the dormitory building. 

“Uh?” You exclaimed as you were ruthlessly handled into the common area and placed into a chair. “Why?”

Geto sat on a stool in front of you with a pleasant expression. “Y/N, you sound much better than yesterday.” 

You shake your head, bewildered at this out of pocket interaction. Panicked, you choke out a cough in reply. 

“Don’t worry, Obi-chan, we’re gonna make you feel all better!” Gojo came up to your left holding a spoonful of… cough syrup? “Here comes the airplane!” 

You go to maneuver your head out of the way, but Geto squeezed himself into the space next to you and grabbed your cheeks. “Open wide!” 

What the fuck!

Before the oncoming airplane could touch your lips, you hear your dear friend’s distinct voice from the entryway. “Um, do I need to leave?”

“-ohkoh!” You cried out to the best of your ability, even with Geto’s fingers holding your mouth open. 

Shoko cringed, raising her eyebrows in concern. “What are you guys doing to her?”

Gojo and Geto shrugged after sharing a look. “Medicating our sick patient?” 

Well, this was as good a time as any to use Pendulum Negative! 

With as much grace as you could muster, you evaded their arms before they could reach you. Deftly running past them, you tripped Gojo from following, ducking as Geto threw his arms wide to try and grab you. 

Sprinting down the hall, you stop at Shoko’s door, banging repeatedly since you knew she was awake. “Shoko, please, please let me in, I’ll buy you as many packs as you want! We can go shopping! I’ll do anything–” 

You threw an anxious glance down the hall to see those two bastards sauntering, as if they knew that no matter what you threw at them they wouldn’t be dissuaded. Was this another interrogation? This is not the medical attention you need! 

Just as they were about to reach you, the door in front of you flung open, and a fair hand pulled you in. 

You embraced your friend after slamming the door and locking it. “Thank you, thank you!”

Shoko huffed a laugh as she patted your head to placate you. “You scared the shit out of me with that, what are you three doing up three hours before class is meant to start?”

Before you could bullshit your way through explaining the cult village and the two orphans you just adopted, a single knock rang through the room. “Don’t open that.” 

“Housekeepiiiing~” Satoru’s voice, although high pitched, rang from outside the door. It was muffled, as if he had pushed his lips up against the peephole. “Obi-Chaaaan, I know you’re in there–”

She rolled her eyes as she gestured for you to sit on her bed and rolled them harder as you hid under the covers. Turning and opening the door, she leaned against the frame with her arms crossed and a single eyebrow raised. “Can I help you?”

From beneath the duvet, you could hear the smirk that Geto was giving her. “Y/N has a nasty cold from our mission, so we were planning on taking care of her. We even bought her some cough syrup.”

Shoko looked at the bottle in his hands with skepticism. “That’s NyQuil.”

“And?”

She shook her head, “You couldn’t get DayQuil? We have to go to class today.”

Gojo only scoffed, “No one is perfect! Besides, she always misses the first period by sleeping in.”

“Hm.” Was all Shoko gave in reply before shutting the door and locking it again. 

A moment of silence rang out before you heard the sound of the door knob rattling. “Shoko! How will Obi-chan receive the care she needs?”

“I’m more qualified than you are,” Shoko retorted. 

“Ieiri-san, we only want to be sure that Y/N is well taken care of.” Geto spoke at normal volume so it was difficult to make out what he was saying through the wood. 

“Then she came to the right place.” 

Oh god, if she continued this.. wouldn’t that make her their enemy? You shivered at the thought of the combined wrath of the two tricksters, and cracked your voice to the best of your ability. “I’m ok, guys! Just gonna sleep it off.”

“In Shoko’s bed?” Disbelief colored Gojo’s tone. 

“Y-yeah?” You tried your best. 

Just when you thought they were going to break down the door, you heard them leave. 

She waved them off as if they could see her, pushing you to scoot over on the bed. Quietly as possible, she leaned in and whispered in your ear, “I know you’re faking.” 

Feeling as though a weight lifted off of your shoulders, you sighed in relief. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Getting myself into situations where the two of them hunt me down like wild animals–”

“This has happened before?” Shoko looked alarmed, sparing a glance at her door. “Not to play devil's advocate here but, that's not normal.”

“I know.” You whined, yanking her pillow into your lap to hide your face.

“So, what’s really going on?”

“Well–” This wasn’t something you could just say outloud. “Suguru kissed me.” But you said it anyway. 

Shoko grabbed the pillow from you, harshly, before bringing it down onto your head. “And you let him?!” Her tone hinted at disgust. 

“I was asleep!”

“THAT'S EVEN WORSE?!” The pillow came down to slap you in the face again, effectively knowing you down on your back.

“I don’t know what to do!” You whined, covering your face as you brought your legs up into a fetal position.

“Well, for one, pretending you're sick is only going to make their ‘separation-anxiety’ worse.” Shoko hummed, putting her pillow back down and choosing to lay down beside you. “And two, how bad was it?”

“You talk about them as if they’re dogs.” You shook your head, sighing. She only spared you a knowing look. One that said, ‘Yes, and I meant it that way’. 

“And…” You started. The thought of the kiss flooded your mind, and you could feel your face grow warmer by the second. “I guess it was okay?”

“You guess? Oh, don’t pity him.”

“Well, it wasn’t like I was fucking moving.” You bit your tongue, throwing a small glare her way.

“Pfffft–” She let out a choked laugh, hand smacking against her mouth in an attempt to soften the blow. “Wow, Satoru was right. You really are a virgin.”

You stared at her, mouth falling agape before you let out an ear piercing scream. This time, you were the one to grab her pillow, landing blow after blow to your dear friend’s face. This did little to muffle the laughter that escaped her, and it only seemed to fuel your embarrassment. Satoru had really told everyone about that day at the Casino– how humiliating. 

“Stop–! Okay, Okay, I get it! I’m sorry!” Shoko held out her hands in defense, but was quickly ignored as you tackled her instead. The momentum caused the two of you to tumble off the side of the bed, effectively rolling off of eachother and on to the dorm room floor. 

“You bitch!” You cried, shaking her by the shoulders.

Shoko, fatigued by her contact with the floor, only babbled gibberish in response. 

“I–” You breathed in, taking note of the situation at hand. “Oh, forget it.” You sighed in defeat, choosing to lay down next to her on the cold, hardwood floor.

“So like,” Shoko started, this time coherent. “Wanna hang out after school?”

“Sure, whatever.” You feigned annoyance, a scoff lightly following your words. Sitting up, you rubbed at your face aimlessly, hoping to wipe some of the exhaustion from your eyelids. 

Shoko rolled over to her side and pushed herself up, reaching out a hand to you so she could pull you up. “We should go shopping.” 

You hummed nonchalantly as you climbed back into her bed, reaching your hand for the pack of cigarettes on her nightstand. Reeling your arm back, you missed the way Shoko’s face fell in despair, before launching the pack of tobacco towards the lightswitch. Successful in your attempt, the lights flicked off, followed by the sound of them clattering against the floor. 

“G’night.”

Chapter Text

As your last class period had come to an end, you and Shoko were quick to say your goodbyes to your two unenthusiastic classmates. Unbeknownst to Satoru and Suguru, you were indeed avoiding them. While this retail therapy session gave you time to spend with your best friend, it also gave you an excuse to get as far away as you could from the events of yesterday.

While the majority of your funds went towards your steadily growing family, you did reserve some for frivolous things like clothes and cheap jewelry. When you were in your early 20s you were the best at finding deals, something you had to struggle to get over when you started dating Mr. Moneybags himself. 

You dragged Shoko through the hall, passing by the cheesy overpriced stores you knew sold clothes that would fall out of style in a few years. No, you were smarter than that, and with your limited budget, and a large scale department store, you knew you were gonna find– Takeuchi-sensei?

Not too far ahead of you stood your teacher, face pressed into the glass of the store you were about to go in, looking particularly desperate.

Shoko was the first to speak up, “Hey, Sensei? The door is right there if you wanna head in.”

Takeuchi-sensei had changed out of the clothes she had on earlier in the day, choosing instead to wear some gaudy dress and– were those pumps? On a weekday?

She flipped around with a screech, nearly falling over as she recognized the two of you. “Is Shoko her last name? Obinata-san? What are you doing here?”

Shoko gestured her hand around her wildly, as if to say ‘wtf’. “Shopping? The real question is what are you doing here?” She looked her teacher up and down. “Are you stalking someone or something?”

You raised your eyebrows as you watched the blood drain from Takeuchi-sensei’s face, only to rush back up and paint her cheeks red. “Stalking? Who’s stalking? Not me!”

“Riiiiight, okay.” Unconvinced, you shared a concerning look with your friend. Shoko only gestured to the door, and belligerently you followed her direction. Waving your clearly distressed teacher what you thought was a goodbye, the two of you headed towards the doors. 

Dramatically, your sensei screeched for your attention, the sound akin to a cat on a chalkboard. You both stalled as she gripped your sleeves, wrenching you in towards herself as she whispered in your ears. 

“Youwannamakesomefastmoney?” If you weren’t paying attention, you would’ve missed what she said entirely. “Go inside and look at the makeup section. At the perfume counter, there should be a lady with long black hair. Buy something from her. Anything.”

“Why can’t you go inside yourself?” Shoko questioned, brows gathering close together as she narrowed her eyes.

“IMBANNED.” She coughed and collected herself. “I happened to have… a couple mishaps with the manager in the past, so they’ve restricted my access for 24 months.”

Your jaw dropped. “Two years?!”

She covered your mouth with her hand. “Shh– that doesn’t matter, look, do you guys need the money? I’ll give you some if you just go and buy a small Dolce and Gabbana sample or whatever.” With that she shoved a wad of bills into Shoko’s hand, pushing you both forward through the doors.

“Well,” You spoke, glancing around the store for anything you’d personally find cute, only to find out that nothing caught your eye. “I guess we need to get that perfume.”

“I don’t think this is about the perfume.” Shoko hummed, hands finding her pockets. “She said to look for a girl with black hair. Seems pretty personal.”

“Maybe it’s a friend?” You supplied an explanation. You knew Takeuchi-Sensei had a knack for dressing according to what was popular, so maybe she had friends to get her discounts? That would come in handy, and she was pretty young…

“I’m not sure what you can do to get banned for two years. Maybe she’s like, one of those obsessive bullies from highschool.” Shoko chuckled under her breath. “Are we going to get in trouble for harassment?”

“Oh please, I doubt it.” You admonished her as you shook your head. From what you could tell, your teacher had been nothing but supportive of you. As basic as she had appeared to be, you could never pick her for a movie-cliche mean girl. 

Your eyes scanned the room for the perfume counter, locking on as you saw your target. You strode over to the clerk with the intent to ask what the best fragrance would be for a high schooler. But when you got there, you immediately faltered. 

This woman was hot.

Her makeup was dark upon initial inspection, but you could tell that even underneath it all her tall cheekbones were her best trait. You went to open your mouth and stuttered as you did so, ears quickly heating at your fumble.

“You got any Dolce and Gabbana?” The heady scent of cigarettes replaced the sharp sweet floral that had taken up residence in your nose. 

The women sneered at your friend, and you found yourself recoiling at the ugly grimace that shattered this woman’s fair countenance. “Who wants to know?”

“Me?” Shoko replied, a light scoff of disbelief evident in her tone. 

She scoffed and turned away, going to the other side of the counter to serve another customer. You could only turn to Shoko in shock as you both processed her actions. She was a massive bitch! 

Looking around, you couldn’t see any more clerks that would help you, so, you tried to test your patience and waited for the woman to be free from her sale. “Hey, not too sure we got off on the right foot there, I’m Y/N Obinata–”

“I’m not in the interest of helping children.” She looks you up and down. “I bet you don’t even have the money for this, you just wanna use the perfume to smell nice for a date or something.”

You suppressed your eye from twitching as you pressed the wad of cash onto the counter. “Would this be enough?”

The clerk clicked her teeth in irritation. “So we’re using daddy’s money, huh?”

“More like mommy’s, but I’m glad you get the point.” You retorted through clenched teeth.

Surprisingly, this seemed to gain her respect as she turned around to locate the bottle. You threw a glance over your shoulder to Shoko, shrugging and waiting as patiently as possible for the stupid perfume. The woman straightened up and set the bottle on the counter with a hard clack. 

You took one look at it and nodded your head. “Ok, can you check me out?”

She propped her hand on her hip as she stared at you skeptically. “You’re not even gonna try it?” 

“Uh, I’ve smelled it in the past so I’m good.” 

Well manicured hands gripped the top of the box and the clerk walked you to the register. Rolling her eyes she parroted the questions to you and you went through the motions of accepting and rejecting. 

“Would you like to start a membership?” “Do you want to sign up for a card?” “Did anyone help you today?”

To that last question, she didn’t even wait for an answer, scoffing to herself and boldly writing in her name. “Well, me obviously.”  Izuza Akamine, that's what her tag read. With as much patience she could muster, the woman carefully wrapped before placing it into the bag. “Thanks, and tell the blonde woman buying this that she can finally leave me alone now, or I will call the police.”

Paling, you ripped the bag off of the counter. “H-heh?” Feigning innocence, your face heated up in embarrassment. 

“Chiyo.” That was your teacher alright. 

“You know our sensei?” Shoko retorted, a small laugh gracing her voice. She, unlike you, was quite smug with the turn of events.

“Better than you think.” Izuza responded, top lip curling over as she held back bared teeth. “What’s it to you? She asked you to come bother me, since I told her to hit the curb? I saw the three of you talking outside.” She gestured to the large display windows, just in perfect timing for you to notice that your teacher had ducked behind the mannequins. “It’s really starting to annoy me.”

“Woah, woah–” You cringed, hands coming up as you assessed the situation. “We had no idea this was seriously an issue– She’s just our teacher, and we offered to buy her something-”

“So she's wrapping children into our affairs? She’s obsessed.” Izuza frowned. “I’m moving out of our apartment this week.”

“Not to be invasive, but I'm totally curious. What are you two.. Exactly..? Ex best friends..? Sisters..?” You, to no fault but your own curiosity, bit your tongue as your questions escaped your lips.

“Try Ex-Girlfriends.”

Your mouth fell open. Definitely not sisters, then. “Oh.”

“Yeah, and she doesn’t want it to be over. I get it.” She sighed, leaning against the counter. “But I’m sick of staying up late and waiting for her; she’s made her decision and so have I.”

“Ah… Maybe she just… misses you?” Shoko laughed awkwardly. 

With slight hesitation, she pursed her lips. “Get out.”

“Oh!” You felt your jaw slack, and in surprise, a sound of shock came out. “Okay then–”

“And tell her to talk to me after work.” 

Shoko smirked slightly, tugging on the sleeve of your shirt. “Come on, you’ve got enough relationship issues, you don’t need to get involved in this.”

Whining at the insinuation of the kiss with Suguru, you followed slowly behind her. “Please don’t talk about that right now–” 

In the familiar space of a coffee shop, murky eyes shift uncomfortably through the clouded noise of a crowd. The air clung to his skin, thick and oppressive, as if it were woven from strands of despair. Each breath was a struggle, a rasping intake of air that settled in their chest, refusing to dissipate.

His eyes, once sharp and valuable in color, now resembled a smudged impression of what used to be. Edges blurred, colors bleeding into one another, and their details had vanished into the fog of fatigue. The world became a series of distant, unintelligible shadows. Faces lost their definition, and even familiar places morphed into abstract shapes.

Sickness coiled around his bones, a relentless poking feeling of pain and exhaustion. Others moved through life with ease– the healthy, the carefree– and the bitterness simmered deep within. It’s a cruel joke, this juxtaposition of vitality and decay. 

“And so, just like that, Haibara and Nanami succeeded in their mission!” Gojo Satoru, the white haired sorcerer student from Jujutsu Tech, sat at a booth next to him. Across from Gojo, sat another student with the same uniform on. He had long, black hair, and a piercing gaze that threatened to turn anyone into stone. “Isn’t that awesome? I totally thought that kid had all odds against him, from what Nanami was telling me.”

“That’s good. I’m glad it all went well.” Suguru Geto responded, despondent. “Especially with the curse being mistaken for a lower grade. That could’ve ended horribly.”

“Yeaaah, but with Obi-Chan training them, what really could go wrong?” Gojo laughed eagerly, noticing the way Geto’s ears had lit up a violent shade of red. “Hah? Suguru?”

The man in question nodded his head a beat too late before replying. “Huh? Oh, yes, right.” Clearing his throat, it took everything in him to remember the topic of conversation. “Y/N has been working very hard with those two. I’m glad it came in handy. She’ll be proud.” 

His stomach curled at the mention of your name, a gnawing sense of curiosity curling at the base of his neck. Sitting up, he could feel his ears picking up their conversation in insatiable interest. The information he had been given pointed to these two students being closely affiliated with you... However, he wasn’t sure what the nature of the relationship that you had with them was.

Gojo cocked his head to the side, leaning closer to Geto so that he could rest his head on his shoulder. “Is something bothering you?”

“Mmm,”  Geto took a long sip of his drink and twisted a napkin in his hands. “If I were to… have kissed someone else, how would you feel?”

His partner fell silent, pursing his lips in consideration, and he spoke with a severe edge to his voice. “Well, obviously I'm the best, so who am I to worry about something hypothetical like that?” Taking a moment to mull over Suguru’s words, he realized that this might not even be a hypothetical situation. “And, even if it were true– It would depend on who it was. If we’re talking people we know, that’s much different than kissing someone super hot and famous, right?”

At the very words of this conversation, the man could feel his brows furrowed in confusion. What kind of conversation was this to have in public? Much less by two teenage boys. Were they together? What right does this guy have over who the other one kisses? He strained to hear the next words that came from Geto’s mouth.

“Maybe… Y/N?” 

After those words were spoken, a series of events occurred, all of which were spurred on by Gojo's booming cry of shock. For one, the man seated at the counter spat out his drink in surprise, accidentally spitting on the poor old man next to him. Two, the waitress walking past the teens flinched and lost her balance spilling the contents of the tray onto the young couple she was serving.

Gojo and Geto remained unperturbed by the resulting chaos, both seated soundly in their own world. 

Gojo cleared his throat, fixing his glasses with one hand while the other brushed the hair on his forehead back to maintain a look of composure. “Haha, Suguru you’re so funny! When did you grow into such a comedian?” After he only received a hum in response, a variety of emotions colored his face, as if he didn’t know how he felt about such a thing. “How… When? Why? A girl like Obi-chan? She’d sooner smack someone face off than kiss them!”

“She may have been asleep…” Geto trailed off, his cheeks uncharacteristically heating as Gojo leaned in close to place a hand on the other’s shoulder. 

“Suguru… you’re gonna have your ass beat.” Gojo intoned sympathetically. 

His hand was swatted away and Geto sat back in the booth, choosing to look outside over Gojo’s piercing gaze. “I’m not sure what came over me at the time, but on the train, the light hit her in a certain way… Y/N helped me to keep my head cool, without her I think I would have done something– drastic.”

“...Right, like kissing her isn’t already a crazy idea.” Gojo grumbled sardonically.

“You say that as if you haven’t thought about it.” Geto’s response was enough to shut him up, it seemed, the white haired boy going red in the face at the accusation. Was it really an accusation if it was correct? “Be truthful with me, Satoru.”

Geto leaned across the table, eyes narrowing slightly. “Does it bother you because it’s me? Or does it bother you because it’s her? ”

“...” Gojo opened his mouth to respond, but instead, the shadow growing taller across their table cut the words in his throat. 

“You shouldn’t make a habit of kissing girls when they’re asleep, you might get filed for sexual harassment.” The voice was low, harsh around the edges as if his throat was full of gravel. It scratched at every surface, but sounded hauntingly sweet as it left his mouth.

The two boys looked up, eyes narrowing slightly to assess the new figure in front of them. From where he stood, he loomed over them, though upon further inspection he seemed to be average height; in fact, everything about him appeared average. Though, his eyes were slightly sunken and his skin had a faint a sallow hue. 

Neither Gojo nor Geto felt the need to give the man a real response, connecting eyes for just a moment to make the resolution to ignore him entirely, but something caught Gojo’s eye before he could tell the man to screw off. “Hey… you kind of look familiar, have we met before?”

The man’s chapped lips opened for half a second, before he began whole body hacking on them, causing them to cover their faces and curse him out. 

“DO YOU HAVE A HANDKERCHIEF OR SOMETHING?” Gojo cried out, pushing him away from the table as Geto sat in shock, utterly disgusted at what had just occurred. 

He didn’t seem to care at all that he had offended them, instead wiping his mouth with one hand and flipping them off with the same after. “You should get another drink. Hopefully no one slipped anything in there…” He leaned further down the table, eyes narrowing. “But you would know all about that, wouldn’t you, perverts?” 

With little to no time to react, the two teenagers felt themselves frozen in place. Was it hesitation? Or even something else? They could hear the blood pumping in their ears, and they could feel the veins pulsating through their skin. 

Gojo tried to will his way through this pause, to make a movement, but as his teeth bared in concentration he couldn’t will his fingers to move. Fully planning on taking this man out, he couldn’t figure out why he had looked so familiar. Geto, in turn, grunted, the uncomfortable shifting of his teeth grating against each other echoed in his head. The world around him seemed hazy, like he couldn’t see straight, and nothing moved. 

After a stoic pause in time, they jerked forward, the latter reeling towards the door. A loud crash sounded out throughout the cafe, and Geto turned toward the noise immediately. As if Gojo’s attempt to attack from before had lagged, it had set off and destroyed the building's wall. Glass shattered everywhere, and through the splinters of false reflections, the man was gone. 

“What the hell just happened?”

Takeuchi-Sensei sat in disarray, curled over with her head in her hands. On either side sat you and Shoko, belligerently offering your sympathies and ears as she explained her side of the story to you.

“And so– even though I'm making bank, she– she tells me I’m being a bitch because I'm taking missions! Y’know, like I'm supposed to?! I mean, it’s my job! She’s the one who decided to stop being a sorcerer and stick to- whatever the hell this is!” At her incessant story, Shoko offered you a look that read; ‘are you kidding’, but you waved her off. 

“...Right.” You slowly nodded, reaching into your bag to retrieve a tissue. Normally, you wouldn’t have carried such things, but being surrounded by children reminded you that anything could be possible. “And I understand why you’re angry. You don’t feel respected.”

“Y-YES! That’s it!” Your teacher nodded vigorously, rubbing her face as she looked up to you. “Thank god someone understands, she makes me feel crazy for being upset!”

“Well, I mean, you’d expect danger to be a part of the job, right?” Shoko spoke nonchalantly, like the root of this argument had flown over her head. “She’s just sensitive.”

The look your teacher supplied Shoko showed that even though she was angry, she didn’t appreciate the tone used to describe her current… situationship. “Okay, but… like, I want to understand–”

“Well, that just makes you a good person then, Takeuchi-Sensei.” You nodded solemnly, rubbing her back. 

“Chiyo.” The blonde woman responded.

“Huh?” You and Shoko both shared a look of confusion. 

“While we’re not in school, I guess it’s okay if you call me by my first name. I shouldn’t be having these conversations with my students, so it’s only proper that we’re friends outside of school, right?” Chiyo rubbed her eyes, moving to sit up. “Or else this would be totally embarrassing.” 

“Sorry to break it to you...” Your hand was quick to clasp over Shoko’s mouth. 

“No! No, it’s fine Ms–” Clearing your throat, you tried again. “Chiyo. It’s totally understandable.”

“Enough about me–” She was quick to jump back into her usual self, suave demeanor returning as a smirk toyed at her lips. “You have yet to tell me about that mission I put together for you and Suguru Geto, haaah?” She leaned forward, eyes crinkling as she noticed the sudden look in your face. “Did something happen?”

“Ooooh, yeah.” Shoko nodded expectantly, a small laugh escaping her as she crossed her leg over the other. “Why don’t you tell her, Obiiiii-Chaaan.” Using Satoru’s nickname for you was sure to send the ball home.

Sitting back straight into the bench, the perfume bag in your hand clattered to the floor. Thankfully due to the clerks ‘careful’ wrapping job, it didn’t break, but that was the least of your concerns. Your hands came up to shield your voice, a noise of discomfort leaving your lips. “Suguru--”

“Not to mention, you’ve been ignoring both of those boys in class today.” Chiyo cut you off before you could answer, and you sighed in defeat. At this rate, she wouldn’t even let you speak.

“Maybe if you let her talk, she’d tell you why, Chiyo-San.” Shoko snickered. In response, the blonde pulled away, huffing before gesturing for you to continue.

“Well, I totally wasn’t acting like I was asleep, but I was trying to sleep, but I wasn’t asleep so like– You get what i’m saying? My eyes were closed and I wanted to rest, but I was awake–”

“Suguru kissed her.” 

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT?” Chiyo jerked forward, hands grabbing at your shoulders before she shook you uncontrollably. “BEFORE GOJO?!”

This time, you and Shoko both let out a similar shriek, the latter quickly following it with a fit of laughter. 

“Listen! I didn’t think that was going to happen! We just, really connected I guess and he was emotional and just kissed me?!”

“Your life is so scandalous! Ugh, I’m so jealous!” Chiyo whined. “It’s just like the novels I used to read in highschool! A girl is stuck between two boys, and for you it’s even worse– instead of rivals, they’re best friends! No vampires or werewolves to pick and choose from, I would’ve chosen the werewolf by the way–”

“Okay, but your girlfriend totally gives off vampy vibes.” Shoko concluded, sitting back as she went to pull a cigarette out of her pocket.

Chiyo, sensing this from her student, abruptly stole the rolled paper from her fingertips. Instead of scolding her, like the latter had expected, she instead held out her hand. “Lighter? I need one of these.”

“You smoke?” Shoko made a face, glancing her over.

“I do now.” Satisfied by this answer, Shoko fumbled with her lighter before handing it over to her. “That’s good, though, isn’t it? Someone likes you.”

“I guess…?” You answered, lacking confidence.

“Was he not the one you wanted? Or, are you playing hard to get?”

“It’s not that-- I guess it’s just weird. Things feel weird.” You answered honestly, rubbing at your forehead. “I feel a lot of things that I can’t quite talk about, and I think that’s why it’s bothering me.”

“That’s alarming, wanna talk about it with us? I know I'm kinda beating the idea of being a trusted adult out of your head with my behavior, but I'd listen if you’d let me.” Chiyo laughed, taking a drag from her cigarette before pulling it away from her mouth. She coughed, eyes screwing shut in distaste. “Damn, Shoko, what the hell?”

The girl in question only rolled her eyes, hands moving to light her own. 

“I don’t know, I’d like to, truly- but I think it’s something I have to deal with and figure out myself.” You truly couldn’t bring yourself to tell someone the truth. Unlike your situation with Toji, who was so far removed from his own life to care about yours-- these people were more directly involved with the course history. They were your past, and you intended them to still be in your future. “What you can help me with is.. telling me how to deal with the fact my friend kissed me.”

“Well, that’s easy.” She was quick to snuff out her cigarette on the bench, opting for the chewing gum in her pocket. “Act like everythings fine, even if for some reason, it’s not. If it meant something to him, he’ll bring it up to you eventually. Love is undeniable.” For once, your teacher supplied good advice. “You were asleep, end of story. That’s not something you can fix or change now, unless you used that sneaky technique of yours and changed it all, right?”

You laughed it off, but the inclination of the truth only gnawed at your throat. She was pretty on the head about your ‘sneaky technique’. “Right, right. I wouldn’t go back to change that, I don’t think.”

“Then what’s got you so troubled?”

You knew the answer, but you didn’t know if you could say it aloud. 

“You can’t let go of Gojo, can you?”

Chapter Text

As time passed, the ability to illustrate your life to anyone but yourself had become more and more difficult. 

Sometimes, you even felt that you were stringing yourself along, convinced that the next step will lead you to greener pastures. Subconsciously you knew you were just as blind to the future as when you started. 

Keeping this secret has become a burden on you and your relationships. You were unsure of how to treat the people you knew and those you know now. After the events of the mall, a week had flown by and you found yourself immersed in your own thoughts more than ever. The realization that you weren’t over Satoru Gojo had hit you– metaphorically and ironically– like a train.

Geto Suguru had kissed you. You had been over this time and time before, but it did little to settle the unease welling in your gut. Takeuchi-Sensei, who you now know better as Chiyo, had suggested that you play dumb in the meantime until you are willing to confront him. When it came to your superiors, most of the time you would listen– wisdom is a virtue, as you very well knew. But for some reason, the only thing you could bring yourself to do was distance yourself from them.

Instead, you had completely immersed yourself into another kind of hyperfixation. Sukuna’s fingers. 

Now, those two words by themselves sounded inappropriate– especially considering he nearly killed you in your last life. BUT. You had a very good reason to begin this investigation.

When you were a student, the topic of Sukuna was merely a history lesson– a warning as to what the fingers could do and who he was in his prime. Yes, he was still considered to be a big deal– but for your generation, so much time had passed that he was just a myth, a legend that wouldn’t make any waves for years to come. From what you can remember, at this time in your final year, several fingers had yet to be found and properly sealed. This was where you would make your move. 

Itadori Yuuji’s affiliation with Jujutsu Tech was something you had no intention of interfering with. In fact, you looked forward to seeing him again and wholeheartedly depended on it. You made the realization that with the changes that you had made to the original timeline, there were less fingers recovered than before. 

This led you to grueling hours researching curse incidents and any anomalies in areas that you knew were roughly the location of the fingers from before. Your recurring excuses had yet to raise any red flags, though even Chiyo was raising a brow at your new secretive behavior. but then again, your friends were always suspicious of your behavior. It took some effort to juggle this task alongside regularly scheduled school days, but you attributed it to just being ‘built different’ as your students used to say.

Unfortunately for you, finding these special-grade cursed objects wasn’t as easy as you believed it to be. In just a week, you had only found loose ends and empty curses, so today was probably going to be another wild goose chase. With the clues you had gathered throughout your research, you had found traces of cursed energy looming around a certain shrine that neighbored the city of Osaka. 

It was a popular shrine, so you had staked out a proper opportunity to stalk around the grounds without appearing shady to the public. You had to keep in mind that this was in a public area, surrounded by tourists that you had promised to protect. Any unwanted attention from malicious curses would be unwise. 

As you stepped through the torii gate, its vermillion paint weathered by time, the world seemed to transform at the activation of your veil. The sun, a molten orb, hovered low on the horizon, casting long, fluttering shadows against its brick path. The air was thick with the scent of incense and cedar, and even with the dark reality of your mission, a comforting embrace welcomed you. The shrine grounds were serene, bathed in a soft, golden glow. It was clear how popular and well respected this shrine was, as it was taken good care of. Ahead of you lay the altar, now abandoned with the silence of dusk, and if you were being honest– this reminded you of home. 

You treaded carefully, respectful of the sacred silence. As the bricks echoed beneath your shoes, you caught the sight of a small fox statue nestled among the ferns. Its eyes seemed to follow you, mischievous and wise, as if it knew something you didn’t.

You had stepped deeper into the shrine, following one of the porch-walkways down to a secluded part of the shrine. The residual cursed energy, of which you assumed to belong to Sukuna’s finger, beckoned you to follow it. As you walked into the shrine’s shadowed embrace, the moonlight revealed a solitary figure– a child. The air thickens, and you sensed something terribly amiss. 

Their silhouette was hauntingly still, framed by ancient stone lanterns that glowed with the little fire left in them. They wore a tattered kimono, its fabric whispering secrets of forgotten responsibility. Their skin was pale, almost translucent, as if they’ve stepped out of time itself. Wisps of their hair clung to their forehead, damp with something you believed to be sweat. 

Everything in you begged you to turn, but against your better judgment, you couldn’t find the strength to abandon the child here. Approaching cautiously, your footsteps echoed in your ears, causing you to cringe. It was sudden, but the child’s eyes, wide and unblinking, shot to look at you.

The child’s lips part, but their voice is a mere breath. “He said you would come.” Their voice cracked with neglect, but their gaze never left yours.

The words were enough to halt you, face growing ever so serious at your confusion. Someone was waiting for you?

As if the child noticed your own uncertainty, its own eyes narrowed forward as they trailed over your face. “But I have yet to figure it out. Have we met before?” 

It didn’t take long for realization to wash over you, and when it did, you felt your jaw fall in terror. As if you had been forced down into freezing cold water, your body broke into hives, the air stolen right from you. You stumbled back– eyes jetting to the horrific stitches littering the child’s forehead.

“Ah.” The child, possessed by none other than Kenjaku, only pouted in mock disappointment. “I suppose we have then.” Taking a step forward, you countered, hands pulling into a defense stance. “I don't intend on fighting you. Regularly, your death would be meaninglessly quick, but in this body I seem to be limited.”

“Kenjaku...” You said it under your breath, but it was clear he had heard it. 

“A fitting name to be the last to fall from your lips, Obinata Y/N.” His hands come together, sleeves folding over the other.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to fight me.” Your eyes narrowed, and you took another cautious step backward.

“Oh, I’m not.” The smile that crept along the child's face was enough to send shivers down your spine. “But he will.”

Sensing a new body, you whirled around in time to catch a glimpse of their face, before it was immediately replaced by the bottom of a shoe. Sending you spiraling to the floor, you crashed several feet away into one of the supporting beams holding up the shrine. 

“This happened sooner than I expected, but that’s fine.” Kenjaku spoke, and the pure joy in his voice reverberated in your ears. You couldn’t see straight, and you swore you could feel blood pooling behind your teeth. “Afterall, your body will make the most useful puppet.”

Forcing yourself to disobey the rest your body craved, you narrowly rolled yourself out of the way of a new attack. In fear, noise escaped you, and you pushed yourself up onto your knees. Your assailant was quick to follow, and as you predicted his next move, you threw yourself onto your back. His leg sailed over you, and with precise timing, you coiled your arms around it.

Using all of your weight, you threw yourself over his leg and onto the ground again, effectively twisting the muscle with you. His balance was broken, and with a sickening snap he fell beside you. 

You rolled on top of the body, hand reaching for your knife as you flicked it out of its holster. Preparing to slam down, your body froze, as if time itself had stopped. Your adrenaline pumped throughout your body, and you could hear the blood rushing to your ears as your eyes wavered over the face below you. 

A shrill gasp attempted to escape your throat, but it was never released.

Your brother– once lost to the abyss of memory, now resurrected in flesh and fury- laid before you. His eyes, twin voids, bore into your soul, and the weight of betrayal settled over you like a shroud. The scent of blood and vengeance hung heavy in the air.

The moon was a cold witness, casting jagged shadows across the shrine. You could feel as time was used against you, and you were knocked aside, subject to paralysis. Your brother began to stand, and with a firm cough, blood shot out of his mouth. It coated his fingertips, and for an instance, you were brought back to that night.

Now wasn’t the time to think back onto the past you had forgotten, in fact, you barely had the time at all before the world came back to you in a series of colors. Scuffling to defend yourself, his strikes were precise, honed by years of absence. You dodged, parried, but each blow vibrated through bone and marrow. Memories flood back– the crimson walls, the screams, the taste of copper on your tongue. He was the monster then, and he remained one now.

Something had changed. Before, his emotions betrayed him, as when he hurt your family– he was obviously hurting himself. But now, he showed no remorse or sympathy for his attack on you. Again, his technique fractured time. Your limbs slowed, as if wading through water. Your blade glinted in reckless abandon, teasing you from its position on the floor. He had unarmed you. Through the rift, you glimpse a tear in the fabric of your existence. Your time had paused, but his hadn’t.

Unlike your technique where you reversed events, people, or objects to any point of their existence, Ichiro gained jurisdiction over deciding the future. By pausing the life of others, he could traverse forward in time and create his own path of events. While your technique, from what you could control at this point, would affect an entire timeline of people who would be mostly unaware of your interference– people had to watch the creation of his.

You fought to break free, but your muscles rebelled against you. The world blurred– a tableau of agony. His eyes held onto yours, mockingly, as he grabbed ahold of your hair. “There is no other way to do this, Y/N.” 

Do what? You begged to ask, to understand, to will yourself to break free, but every attempt you made was useless. “The night I shattered our world, I've never forgiven myself for leaving you there.”

For leaving you alone? Or leaving you alive?

“Do you remember?”

And you do. The terror, the loss– the fractured mirror of your past. 

Jostled awake, you snapped your eyes open to see the furious tears flooding the eyes of your brother. It was like looking into a mirror, deep pools of color swirling with uncontainable emotion. It was said that the eyes of a person directly conspired with their soul, and you believed it. You had always found yourself in his eyes, as he did you, but lately the reflection you saw didn’t bear the same resemblance. It was cracking.

“Ichiro?” Your small hands reached out to grab his face in worry, tilting his head side to side as you checked for anything that could supply his emotion. “What’s wrong?”

“The village...” Ah yes, the village. As winter had fallen over the Aino Mountains, so did the threats that came with it. Being so ripped away from modernized society had its cons, as people in the town were not well equipped to defend themselves from the weather. They depended on your family for that.

With the death of the village chief's daughter, a sickness had fallen over the town, and one after one, people began to follow suit. Your clan, their holy protectors, had credited their deaths to the weather, and expectantly supplied the village with resources to brave the season. Everything should’ve stopped there, yes?

Wrong.

Ichiro, your big brother, was only twelve when this sickness took hold of the Aino region, but he insisted on being involved with its cure. Going down everyday, he did what your family did not, and took care of all the villagers he could. For some reason, even with all the resources and help he could provide-- the sickness only took more.

“What about… The village?” You spoke between a yawn, moving to sit up from your bed. 

“I can see the sickness.”

“See... it?”

“When someones really sick, I can see it all over them. I’ve figured it out.”

“M’ sorry Ichiro... I’m really tired and I can’t understand what's going on.” You were only six at the time, who could blame you?

“They’re cursed.” Ichiro shook your shoulders, hoping to wake you up some more. “There's a curse in the village.”

“...A curse?” You tilted your head, eyes screwing shut as you blinked away sleep. “Did you tell mommy?”

“She refused to listen to me– but I have a feeling she knows. I’m going back tomorrow to see If I can stop it.”

“That doesn’t sound safe…” You mumbled, frowning slightly as you reached out to touch your brother's shoulder.

“Oh please, you’re only six. I shouldn’t expect you to understand.” Though his words seemed harsh, a playful smile toyed on his lips. His hand came up to ruffle your own, and he laid you back into bed. “I had to tell you.”

Yawning, you nestled back into your pillow before humming in contentment. “Please be safe.”

“I love you, Y/N.” Kissing your forward, he pulled away for the final time before heading out of the door.

Ichiro was never the same after that, as sickness quickly overtook his life. Your parents had told you it was a simple cold, that he obtained it from a village child, and that within a few days he’d return to normal. Ichiro never stopped his descents down the mountain, and with his dedication and hard work, your now teenage brother had begun to lose his mind.

Dinners were never quiet, as arguments with your elders became routine. He mumbled the same things, mentioning that your family had 'no right' to be called holy, or that you all were going to burn for your “crimes” against humanity. However, it was clear that these words were never aimed towards you, as Ichiro still spent some of his time assisting in your martial arts training. 

It wasn’t until you were seven that you ever felt unsafe around Ichiro.

Like many inconsiderate times before, you were woken up in the middle of the night. 

“Y/N– Y/N you have to help me–!” Unlike before though, Ichiro was desperate for more than just conversation.

Ripping awake, you had no time to respond before the air was knocked out of you. Crushing you into a hug, your arms flailed as you tried to grab his shirt. 

“I’m dying– it’s going to kill me, they told me–” He was choking on his own spit, eyes swirling with paranoia. You couldn't find yourself in them this time. “They told me they won't help me- they won't fix it–”

“Ichi–” You couldn’t breathe, and instead scrambled underneath him. 

“Those bastards are letting all the people in the village die! I’m infected and they– they won't help me because I tried to–” Letting go of your, his hands searched your face, shushing your struggling cries as you caught your breath. “You need to go back–” He whispered. 

“Go back in time and tell me to stop! Please! Please, I'm begging you– I don’t want to be sick anymore! I just wanted to help– I just wanted to be good!”

You had never seen him like this before, and it scared you. 

“I don’t… know… how..”

“Last year! Think about– about winter last year–” Again, he shook you, and you slapped his hands away.

“Stop touching me!” You cried out, ripping away from him. “I’m sorry Ichiro! I’m sorry! What should I do?! I don’t know how– You’re scaring me. I’m scared–” 

It all happened in a second, and before you knew it, you couldn’t move. The dark made it hard to see, but you could do nothing but sit as your brother tried to activate your ability himself. His hands fumbled with your own, and he actively pressed them together, unsure of how to activate it. It was clear he was growing frustrated, as he dropped your hands entirely. You couldn’t understand what he was saying through the cloudiness of your mind, but it was clear he was angry with you.

Hands wrapped around your throat, and squeezed. It was almost as if, through his tears, he wasn’t realizing what he was doing to you.

You woke up the next morning in your parents bed, and Ichiro was nowhere to be seen. After that, you lived an entire year without seeing your brother, and when you did?

It was the last time.

“Do you remember?” 

Through gritted teeth, you mustered a response through the pause. “I… do.”

Ichiro, surprised you managed to say anything at all, smiled. 

Defiance bloomed in your chest, and suddenly the hold on you cracked. His resolve was breaking. You remembered everything. Ichiro, though he had tried to help the village people, had caught the sickness created by the curse your family refused to exorcize. Your clan believed in keeping the “natural order” of things. Meaning, if a curse decided to kill, that was life. Due to his disobedience of their ideals, they did nothing to help him.

“I mourned you. You were dead-” 

His laughter echoed across the building, though it was nothing but hollow. “Death is a warped construct,” He said. “Our family, however…” As if it was pulled from the shadows, a long spear grew in his hands. “Let’s pray they stay dead.”

Ichiro stood across from you, his muscles coiled like a spring. The air crackled with anticipation, like he had been waiting for this moment. Had he kept you alive all this time just to kill you? He knew where your Clan lived, why hadn’t he come for you there? And while there was you, there was also your grandmother, your cousin, and– Your family. All of them.

You had to fight, that wasn’t even a question. If he posed a threat to you here, there was no denying he’d go after your family just the same. What you didn’t understand is why. In your original life, there was no alliance between him and Kenjaku– so what changed?

You. That was the only reasonable answer. You had changed.

By interfering with Suguru’s descent into madness, you had irrevocably skewed the direction that fate was driving towards to begin with. Stopping Riko and Toji’s deaths was small in comparison to what could be considered one of the worst attacks on jujutsu society of all time. 

Distracted, you narrowly missed the spearhead jabbed straight towards your face. Shifting your weight onto one of your feet, you raised your arm to block the pole. Deflecting with your forearm, you pivoted, elbow striking Ichiro’s solar plexus. You watched as the air was stolen from him, and his weapon clattered to the ground. 

You moved to close the distance, but his arms were faster as his hand hooked around your neck. His knee came up to meet your sternum, and a guttural howl escaped your throat. It burned, and the silence did nothing to hide the echo of your collision. Sending you tumbling to the floor, you caught the gaze of Kenjaku, who had propped himself up on the railing farther away from the battle. 

Now with your body being low to the ground, you took the opportunity to sweep his legs from underneath him. Ichiro’s ankle buckled, and he crashed to the floor quickly after. But he was quick– a spinning kick aimed for your head, and using all the strength you could muster, you pushed yourself off of your hands, and over his attack. Sliding across the ground, your blade clung to the bottom of your boot. Wasting no time, you went to grab it, letting out a shout of surprise as the polearm shot itself right where your head had just been. 

Ichiro grumbled something incoherent, before holding out his hand. Having infused his cursed energy into it, it swiftly returned, slicing the back of your left calf in the process. He twirled it in his hands, cracking his neck as blood poured from his nose and mouth. 

“Why are you doing this?!” You cried out, preparing to brace for his next attack. Your leg was bent at an odd angle, blood seeping down to the heel of your shoe.

“You’re bound to the wrong side, Y/N. I’ve realized my destiny.” He pointed his polearm at you, before swinging with his right hip into a side kick. Using his momentum, he turned again, before the weapon lunged right for you. 

Holding your hands out, your technique activated, and the sound of the shrine's bell vibrated through the ground. As if your static had been challenged, the polearm froze in place, but everything else stayed in motion. Ichiro laughed haughtily. “We can do this all day. You forget, we cancel eachother out, Y/N.”

“Destiny? This isn’t fate, this is a choice you’re making–” Releasing your technique, you dodged out of the way, the polearm shattering the bricks along the ground at its impact. 

“A choice? You cling to a life of false honor. This world is built among a constructed fallacy, the weaker die no matter what you do. What is the choice I’m making? My redemption? Absolution?” He rushed forward, your shoulders meeting in a brutal collision. His strength overtook your own, and with a twist, your back met the ground. Grabbing a hold of you, he followed in suit, knee pinning your chest to the ground.

Your eyes widened, your defeat etching itself in your sweat. You couldn’t lose here. “Our ancestors–”

“Fools! They bowed to their order like a false god, while I forged my own purpose–” His knee pressed further into your chest, and you swore you heard a rib pop beneath your skin. You cried out, back of your head instinctively hitting back against the pavement. 

You weren’t done yet, and with a sharp cry from the back of your throat, your legs wrapped around his own, pulling him into a roll. Successfully ending up on top, you straddled his hips, and your fists rained down. Each blow resonated anger, frustration– but most importantly, survival. 

Ichiro managed to lift his legs, arching his back up into a bridge. He was going to attempt to throw you off. Anticipating it, you somersaulted backward, wobbling on the landing. He staggered upward, wiping the blood from his mouth. You locked eyes, and you did the next best thing you could think of.

Run.

Putting the mission behind you, you weren’t sure you could make it out of this situation alive. Ichiro was sick, but even with his curse– his abilities were extraordinary. Of course, at the age of seventeen, fighting a twenty-three year old curse user was not on your bucket list just yet , but this really made you realize how far you had to go.

With how badly damaged the tendon in your leg was cut, your running was anything but effective. Ichiro, despite the brutal beating he had received all over from your relentless attacks, was catching on you now. You could only do so much to prevent more damage, and if he slammed you to the ground again, you don’t think you could take it. As he went to ram his body into your side, you sidestepped, his momentum carrying him past you. 

Flicking your palm at his spine, you hit a nerve, causing his legs to buckle underneath him. You had begun studying back up on the techniques of your family, and while your clan preferred to not get involved in hand to hand combat– their martial arts techniques were strong defensive strategies you were lucky to employ.

You watched as he attempted to phase out of his temporary paralysis, legs motioning for you to start running again. You knew the only way down from the shrine was the main staircase, so you needed to go now.

Not looking back, you continued your way through the courtyard of the shrine. The bell at the altar glinted dangerously in the moonlight, and as if to haunt you, the Kenjaku-possessed-child peaked from behind it. Its smile was sure to be etched in your memory forever now, as liquid leaked from the stitches that lifted from their forehead.

The sound of scraping metal sounded out behind you, ushering forward, before your paranoia got the best of you. Turning to look behind you, your ankle rolled, and your hands flailed in front of you as you crashed to the ground. Your brow bone slammed into the concrete, as your shirt rode up. The ground burned your stomach, and you could feel the warmth of red pooling around your eye. Twisting your head, Ichiro stalked forward, polearm ready to strike. 

You were going to die here. You hadn’t spoken to your friends in so long, and your best friend had no idea where you were. Your grandmother, cousin, and adopted family would wake up the next morning not knowing you died to the hands of the man that would surely come back for them. You would die without ever telling Geto how you felt about the kiss, and you would die without ever telling Gojo you loved him. You loved him so much. 

You missed the man you knew before, you missed the way he held you, you missed the way he said your name– you missed the way he used to kiss you. Your Gojo was gone, but you were so hellbent on saving this Gojo, that in a way, he had become yours as well.

You expected the blow to come, eyes screwing shut as you held your hands over your head– but with a brush of wind and an arm snaking its way under your stomach, your body was lifted upward. Letting out a pathetic whimper in your delirium, your eyes opened to see none other than Gojo Satoru. 

The spear crashed forward into limitless, before ricocheting off back into the hands of your brother. 

“This guy?” Satoru uttered in disbelief, before his eyes returned back to you. You watched in incredulity as his face fell in horror. The sight of your bleeding face, tattered clothes, twisted leg– it terrified him. It filled him with rage. “Sorry, I didn’t bring any tissues with me. I was kind of hoping you had walked off and died somewhere.” Gojo recognized this guy. This man was the same one from the cafe, with the same sunken eyes, tired disposition, and ugly ass sneer. 

You rasped, attempting to say something– anything, but his grip tightened around you. “We found your notes in your room, got the hint you were up to something stupid.”

“You go through girls' rooms like it’s no problem, huh? Knew you were a fucking creep.” Ichiro seethed, hand spasming as he reached out for his weapon.

“That’s rich, coming from the guy beating down a little girl in the middle of the night. That type of shit get you off?” Satoru scoffed, his playboy smile wiped right off his face.

“I was offering her a way out, considering she goes home to get fondled in her sleep by a bunch of perverts. Don’t think I forgot about your friend kissing up on her while she was unconscious.” He stepped forward, and with each movement, Satoru stepped back. 

Snapping your head up, you finally had checked back into focus. Black dots faded from your vision, and you felt yourself pulling away from Satoru’s hold.

Ichiro knew about that? 

“What?” Your voice came out hoarser than expected, even scaring you. You had the perfect opportunity to act as if you had just learned about this. 

“It’s– I’ll explain later, I promise, but this is not the time.” Satoru had no backhanded response as he placed you down. “Suguru and Shoko are on their way. Go, I'll deal with this guy.”

“Running, Y/N?” Ichiro’s voice made you freeze, and your head turned over your shoulder as you had the stair-rail in your cold grip. “I have a feeling you’ve been doing that for a long time. You can save everyone but me, right? I see how it is.” 

Your words died in your throat and you took a step back, nearly falling down the stairs. Sparring yourself a glance, you turned back to face Ichiro, but he had stepped away. Presumably to pick up his weapon, you used this opportunity to take your first step down the steps– but your broken ankle decided you’d take a faster route.

“Satoru–” You cried out, expecting to tumble down the stairs to your death, only to be met with Satoru’s hands around your waist. Face to face now, you went to sigh in relief, but it was short lived.

“Oh Y/N,” You could barely make out Ichiro’s figure from over Gojo’s shoulder. “ You only think about the past, when will you start caring about your future? ” 

By the grace of whatever god was not there, your ears were met with the sick crunching of blood, organs, and bone. Your side was skewered, blood gutting out all over the stone steps. As you lost your footing, everything began to slow. Looking up in confusion, you watched as Satoru’s face began to pale, the color stripped from his pristine-blue eyes. Red covered your vision, and his weight toppled on top of yours.

You were falling.

The next few minutes were a haze to you, a mess of bright colors and unbridled sounds of battle. With every flutter of your eyelashes, you swore you saw a new color every time. Convincing yourself that the reds and blues of Gojo’s technique were the lights of a police car, you attempted to call out for help, but you found that no sound escaped you. 

You blacked out for what felt like an eternity, but it was only a second, as the blood in front of your eyes parted at the intense wind that shot towards you.

Glancing upward, your vision was graced by the astonishing light of the color purple that decorated the sky. It was so beautiful in fact, you could feel tears pricking at the sides of your eyes. You had no strength to stop them, so like gravity intended, they fell down your face.

Satoru had unlocked his reverse technique. He was alive. 

At that thought, you found yourself falling back into the black that clouded your mind. 

“You only think about the past, when will you start caring about your future?”

It had all happened so fast, he hardly had the time to think. You had slipped, and he had caught you. It was that simple, so why had it ended this badly? 

Gojo stared absently below him as the silver head of a spear impaled through his chest, moving at lightning speed as it slashed you through the side.

He couldn’t stop himself from choking up blood onto your face, just as he couldn’t stop himself from falling on top of you. As he fell, he missed the way his jacket pocket had fluttered open, releasing the silver chain that had sat comfortably inside. The hourglass necklace, the same one you had returned before, clattered at the top of the stairs. 

The two of you tumbled horrifically down the steps of the shrine, the spear threatening to rip every organ out of his chest with each collision he made. With a sickening crack, he witnessed the back of your head hit the pavement, and your body stop moving indefinitely. 

Hitting the ground himself, Gojo was met with a realization. Was this what death felt like?

Panicked, he searched for any sign that you were alive, but even the action of moving his head was too much for him and he found himself on the edge of slipping into a daze. Before he was completely under– the only thing he could think about was the day Riko “died” in front of him. 

But this time, it was his own life slipping away that he was all but powerless to stop. 

As these thoughts spun in his mind, he could hear that bastard's steps at the top of the stairs and the resulting rage sent him into a downward spiral. 

You would die. He was going to die. Some bitch had the upper hand for only a second and managed to get the best of him . Gojo Satoru, the strongest– 

How would Geto react when he found your bodies so closely intertwined?

With that in mind, he concentrated on something deep within him, a slowly growing force that had him raising his arms to either side of your face and using his full strength to push himself up, putting a leg beneath him to bring himself to a standing position. 

As if something inside his heart was screaming at him to open his eyes , he realized that deep down– he had never seen life so colorful before. While his eyes were open, the ones in which he needed to see this had not been. It was as if the heavens had opened up before him, and showed him the infinite possibilities of his creation. He couldn’t die.

His body enveloped itself in foreign strength, and with his rise, he began to laugh. It was an irrepressible force, uncoiling from deep within as it started with a tremor– a hiccup of mirth– but then it erupted. It consumed all of reason.

His chest heaved, and he clutched his sides as he forced his foot forward. The world was blurry– but it was gold. People, objects, all irrelevant. His breath hitched, but only for a moment, as the foreign feeling of tears streamed down his face. He wasn’t sure why, none of this had ever been funny. That's the crux; the absurdity, the sheer lunacy.

He wondered if you’d glance this way, would you be concerned? But even now he knew you were nearly dead. Even knowing that, he couldn’t bring himself to stop, and it only seemed to fuel his mania. 

Grabbing a hold of the railing to the stairs, he slowly began to traverse up them. His hands itched for a fight, for someone's throat to be ripped under his nails- he was going to make this man wish he had never been born.

Each step up the staircase reverberated through his bones. He could taste blood, but he was unsure where it was coming from, unaware of the large, gaping hole that belonged to his chest.​​ Looking down, he recognized the feeling of pain, but your face was the only thing that flashed in his mind. Your face.

Rage ignited once more, and the knuckles that clutched the railing let go. The world narrowed to a single purpose: vengeance. The past– it’s tendrils– coiled around his throat. He was a dog made in your design. 

Ichiro, as soon as he made it to the top of the stairs, was met with a cold hand around his throat. It was as if death himself had crawled out of its grave to greet him hello . But this wasn’t a welcome, this was merely a reminder that death had never been a foreign concept to his name. He liked to reprimand you for running , but he had been the one to try and defy death time and time again.

Now his messenger stood before him in the body of Gojo Satoru. 

“Throughout heaven and earth,” Satoru breathed heavily, and suddenly, everything before him locked in place. It just felt right. “I alone am the honored one.”

Silence filled the clearing, before the sound, and before the color. 

What once was still, awaited destruction, before the deafening sound of collapse zipped across the shrine. A massive, earth-shattering orb of purple enclasped the area. It was as if gravity was inverted, as blue and red forced themselves to assimilate, Ichiro caught in the middle. Gojo did nothing to respond, and instead, his vacant eyes only watched. The twisted smile on his face rivaled nothing the world had seen before, and thankfully, no one alive was going to remember it.

The freshly healed wound on his midsection did nothing to hinder Gojo from carrying your body down the next set of stairs, each step more arduous than the last. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at your chest for the subtle rise and fall, an indication that you were still breathing.

Clutching you tighter to his chest at the sound of approaching footsteps, something in him found familiarity in the patterns, like the blood pumping in his ears. One was faster, heavier, and the other? A sign that help was on the way. 

Unbidden, he slowed to a stop at one of the landings, a brief look of despair crossing his face as he noticed Geto’s eyes registering your prone form. 

“Suguru.” Gojo called out, something broken coloring his tone. “I can’t heal her. I healed myself, but… I can’t heal her.”

For once in his life, he felt human. Any semblance of disgust at the feeling of your blood soaking into your clothes was filled only with sheer horror as he made a blatant realization. Inevitably, everyone will die. 

Was this what Kuroi thought about in order to facilitate those crocodile tears? At the sight of something so unrealistic, like Riko’s incident with the train, shouldn't it be impossible? You hadn’t even warned anyone, you hadn’t even said goodbye , and here you were. Was this what made humans so vulnerable? The idea that loved ones… could never return? 

It made him sick. He hated it. When had he ever been this helpless? This vulnerable? You had done so well by yourself, but with his arrival– with his small miscalculation, you were dying in his arms. 

You were dying.

He watched as Geto’s mouth opened and closed as a million thoughts seemed to cross his mind, finally choosing to step closer to him and reach out for your body. Gojo met him halfway and they both stood for a moment, as if they were frozen in time. 

Finally, the second pair of footsteps joined them, accompanied by the sound of heavy panting. “Jesus, would it kill you guys to wait up for a moment– oh my god. ”

The two of them turned in time to see the blood run from Shoko’s face. “Is she…?”

Gojo adjusted his grasp on your body, holding you closer in a protective stance. “Not dead.” He said the words almost like a reminder to himself– that you weren’t dead. You couldn’t be. 

“Good– good.” Shoko took a deep breath, exhaling at least a year's worth of tension. “Let me check her over while we wait for reinforcements.”

With that, she took a step towards them, but the two of them recoiled in response. She bared her teeth at them, scoffing as she continued closer without a trace of fear. “Get over it; I’m the only one qualified to give medical attention. Drop the attitude and put her down. Now.””

Gojo made the move as if to retaliate, but Geto grabbed him by the shoulder, shaking his head and gesturing for your body to be placed on the ground. He did so, however begrudgingly, as Geto made the point of using his jacket as a pillow for your head. He hesitated for a moment as he saw it stain red, and his eyes searched Gojo’s for an explanation. 

“She hit her head.” He replied quietly, ashamed to admit he couldn’t help you. 

Shoko got down to her knees next to your body, assessing for open wounds and instructing the boys to apply pressure as she began the healing process. What she was doing could be risky as she didn’t wash the wounds to begin with, and regrowing the tissue could lead to an infection. But with how severe the bleeding was, she decided to not take the chance. 

They sat for what seemed to be hours, each growing more desperate the longer it took for help to arrive. Eventually, the silence won the best of them and Geto was the first to speak. 

“Who did this?”

Gojo gazed at your body, expression uncharacteristically open. “It was the same man from the cafe. I managed to kill him, but not before he was able to land a few hits on us. He looked so much like her… he had to have been her brother.”

Shoko said nothing, too focused on circulating her reversed curse technique through your body, passing over the superficial wounds and focusing on the deeper, more severe cuts. But Geto whipped his head to look at Gojo. “Her brother? She never mentioned–”

“Maybe she didn’t want to. From how they were talking while we were fighting, it seems like the sick bastard may have played a pivotal role in the downfall of her clan.”

The air grew still once more, no one daring to make a noise as they all listened to your weak lungs struggling for each breath. But as time passed and there was no sign of help arriving, the movement of your chest grew weaker and weaker. Until…

Shoko froze, back straightening into a ramrod posture as she pushed Geto away from where he was at your head, moving his hands from the back of your head as she leant down and pressed an ear to your mouth, hand flying to your jugular to feel for a pulse. 

“Fuck !” She cried out, repositioning herself so that she was to the side of your upper body and immediately started compressions. 

Gojo and Geto stared at her, stricken, as they realized that they had lost your pulse.  

The light in Gojo’s eyes had filtered out, and he found his throat victim to cotton-mouth. He couldn’t swallow, as it hurt too much. Your pulse wasn’t there, and Shoko was freaking out. What the hell did all of this mean? How the fuck had he messed this up badly?

Through shuddering breaths, Shoko struggled to issue them commands. “Watch what I’m doing! Keep this pace and do thirty when I tell you so– got it?”

They had all been given a rough breakdown on CPR, though Shoko was the only one that had paid any attention during the lesson. Thankfully, they had enough sense to not question her and follow her lead. 

Once she had completed 30, she made minor adjustments to the positioning of your head, plugged your nose, and–

“HEY!” Gojo cried out and Geto looked equally affronted. 

Shoko ignored them, giving one more breath as she scowled at them. “Grow up.” She was giving you mouth to mouth. “Geto, start compressions; remember to do thirty then stop and I’ll give two breaths. Gojo, try to keep pressure on the wound and tap in when Geto gets tired. I’m going to keep healing her.”

After the fourth round of compressions, Geto gave no indication that he needed to swap, but he involuntarily paused as he felt a change in pressure. 

“Keep going!” Shoko scolded him, eyes tinted red at the corners as a show of the exertion that her body was feeling. 

Gojo choked on his spit as he watched a thin trail of blood leak from the corner of your mouth. “Her lung–” 

“It doesn’t matter! It’s more important that we circulate as much oxygen as possible– Never stop.” 

The three of them continued this system until Chiyo and other jujutsu sorcerers made their appearances, a few being trained professionals that were able to stabilize you. 

The only thing they could do was watch as you were taken away, each of them feeling more useless than the last. 

With the moon still high in the sky, the ‘heroes’ of the field had long retreated. A small figure stepped out from behind a pillar at the temple, taking tentative steps forward until stopping at Ichiro’s body. 

It seemed that even with Gojo Satoru’s Hollow Purple , Ichiro hadn’t succumbed to the reverse technique at all. His body, in the end, had suffered from a heart attack the second he had made contact with Gojo on the stairs. Using whatever cursed energy he had left, it was used to preserve his dead corpse in time. 

“For such a strong attack, you managed to keep your body relatively intact.” Kenjaku sneered as he leaned down, pushing your brother's head to the side as he ran his small fingers across his forehead. “You’ll do perfectly.”

Curses emerged from the shadows around him, lifting the body as he began his descent down the stone steps, pausing as something flashed in his eye. “Oh?”

He bent down and lifted a small, silver hourglass necklace. The glass was broken from its collision with the ground, and the sand from inside coated the stone beneath it. 

“This looks important, what a shame... Maybe I should return it.” 

Chapter Text

Your days seemed to ebb and flow, a mess of small scenes that never reached their ending, and you were never even sure how they started. At one point, you could feel a large and uncomfortable object in your mouth, preventing you from closing it. Visitors came in and out; from your family, to your teachers, to Shoko. They didn’t say much, save for Riko and the kids; all of whom eagerly shared stories with you. 

The worst would be when they would visit you, neither saying anything as they sat at your bedside.

Eventually, your eyes fluttered open, and the world swam into focus. 

The room was sterile with large, white walls and fluorescent lights that hummed overhead. The air smelt of antiseptic, and the rhythmic beeping of machines punctuated the silence. You tried to move, but your body protested– a dull ache radiates from every bone, and you’re tethered by tubes and wires. Panic flares, suddenly clawing at your chest. 

The disorientation was overwhelming. Time felt disjointed, fragmented. You’re caught between two worlds– the one where you almost died, and this one, where you clung to fragile threads of existence. 

Your mind raced, trying to piece together the fractured puzzle. Why were you here? How bad had you been injured? Where was Gojo? Did he survive? The pain flares anew, a sharp reminder that you’re alive. Fear began to gnaw at the remnants of your consciousness. You’re a stranger in your own body, a survivor who once teetered on the precipice of oblivion. Your world was tilting, and you wondered if you’d ever find solid ground again.

And then, through the haze, a hand– warm, steady– reaches for yours. Through your eyelids, you could barely make out a figure before the light stung your eyes. Their touch anchors you, grounding you in your unfamiliar surroundings.

“Satoru...?” As if your hand knew the weight of his touch, you felt his breath hitch from beside you.

“Y/N.” It was automatic, and you felt his other hand come up to cup your face. 

You lifted your hand to cover his and thread your fingers together, cringing as you felt the pull of the IV in your arm. “Thank-" As if your air was cut off, you choked on your words and started to cough. "-god you’re here. I thought you died.”

He looked at you strangely, laughing in disbelief. “As if.” The smile that grew on his face was enough to make your heart squeeze. “Do you really think Gojo Satoru, the greatest , could ever be defeated?”

You felt something growing in your chest and climbing up to your throat, causing you to choke as you attempted to stifle a sob. “But you were– You died right in front of me and I thought that I would never be able to see you again.” It would seem as if you couldn't control your thoughts, or yourself. Your mind was cloudy, and nothing was making sense- but Satoru was there, and that was all that mattered.

For once he seemed to be at a loss for words, watching dumbly as you clutched his hand tighter. “How are the kids? Did Megumi and Itadori–”

“Itadori?" Gojo's tone picked up in confusion. "Who’s that? Did you find another kid you didn’t tell me about?” He laughed it off, but it was clear your words were starting to bother him, 

You heard it before you felt it. Your stomach curled in pain, and you felt suffocated- suffocated? Were you dying? Where were you? The shrill, painful noise of your monitor shattered your eardrums as your breath began to pick up, chasing the sound of the alarm. Your vision began to narrow, black spots encroaching on his figure in front of you. “Sukuna–” was the only thing you could bring yourself to say, mustering just enough strength to stay conscious.   

Before he could respond, a nurse ran into the room, coming up on the other side of the bed and assessing your condition. “I told you to hit the button when she woke up– I’ll try to give her more medicine to calm her down.”

“More?” Gojo was exasperated, eyes flicking between you and your nurse. “She’s clearly doped up as it is, are you sure–?” 

She shook her head at him dismissively, moving to her cart as she reached for a vial. “I was just about to come in anyways. She’s due for some more– this hysteria could be attributed to her injuries.”

“She’s been in and out of this for a month. The doctors said she’d get better–” It was almost as if the concept of ‘getting better’ was foreign to Satoru. Of course, coming from someone who’s never faced a day of critical injury in his life until recently, he truly would never understand how long recovery could take.

“Healing comes with time. This is all a process.” The nurse sighed in slight annoyance.

“But she’s missing school. At this rate, we’ll graduate without her–” 

“I’m sure your principal will understand. It’s not everyday a patient turns up like this. You were with her, correct? You’re lucky you didn’t sustain similar injuries.” 

Your head spun faster and you started giggling at what the nurse had said. You hadn't succumbed to your fatigue just yet, but due to the newly distributed meds into your system, you had lost all control of yourself. “He’s Satoru Gojo! My fiance is the strongest–”

At that, Gojo choked on his spit, eyes threatening to pop out of his head. Fiance?!

The clouds in your head became thicker, weighing your head down into your pillow, but you continued laughing. Before long, you had closed your eyes and fell back into an uneasy rest. 

Geto truly didn’t know what he was doing here.

He had come to visit with Gojo, but the sight of your prone form coupled with his memories from that night– it had become too much for him to handle. He ended up in the waiting room, far enough away that the sounds of the machines couldn’t reach his ears. 

He couldn’t tell which sight was more unsettling; seeing you collapsed in Satoru’s arms, or the sight of your unconscious body on a hospital bed. He winced as he remembered the feeling of your ribs giving way and the wet sound of your breathing when they had finally brought you back. He couldn’t help but blame himself, no matter how much Shoko had reassured him that what he was doing was right. 

It had been a month since the incident, and he still couldn’t wrap his mind around why . 

They had only been able to track you down with some half-legible notes left on your desk. For some reason you had taken it upon yourself to lead a solo investigation on the Cursed Objects relating to the King of Curses, Ryoumen Sukuna. What possessed you to do so?

In the midst of his brooding, a fair hand waved in front of his face, drawing him from his thoughts.

A blonde woman stood in front of him, both hands on her hips as she leaned forward in his face. 

“Hey, you’re Suguru Geto, right?”

His patience was already thin, so he was unable to stop the grimace from forming on his face. How this woman knew who he was was beyond him. “...What’s it to you?”

“My name is Yuki Tsukumo. I’m friends with Chiyo, y’know– like, your teacher?”

“Takeuchi-Sensei, yes.”

“Awh, you’re polite even when she’s not around. That’s cute.” Smirking, she leaned forward. “What’s your type?”

His type? What kind of question was that? In a place like this? How crude.

That was a question Geto found himself struggling to answer on a regular basis, much less speak it into truth. His type? 

Well, when he thought about people he liked , his first thoughts were of Satoru and you . You both were incredibly stupid at times, and yet so smart. While Gojo was arrogant and cared more for himself than others, you displayed careful consideration for the people you surround yourself with. Putting that into perspective, it was strange as to why he felt this way about both of you.

“I guess, someone who…” He stopped himself, baring his teeth hard enough they might’ve shattered.  “Why are you here?” It came out more bitter than he would’ve liked, but he would’ve  been lying if he said it wasn’t satisfying to get out. 

“Aaah, so rude.” She feigned a pout, sitting herself down right beside him. “I came for the same reason you did.”

“To see Y/N?”

“No, to sit aimlessly in the waiting room and look like an idiot.” Her tone, although sarcastic, could’ve been perceived as serious if he didn’t know any better. “Yes, to see Obinata-San.” Crossing her leg over the other, she leaned back in her chair.

The movement did nothing but irritate Geto as he sat himself farther away from her. He was not in the mood for this. “Then go.”

“And leave you here to dwindle all by yourself? What kind of woman do you take me for?” She scoffed in false offense. 

“I’d be better off alone.”

“Do you truly believe that?”

“...” Geto, absentmindedly, found himself biting his tongue. Unlike other people, his expression never faltered, and instead he reveled in the taste of copper.

“I’ll take your silence as a no.” Sitting further back into her chair, she crossed her arms. “If we’re being honest, I did come to speak with you.”

“Then get to it. Please.” 

“...About curses–”

Geto let out a loud hum in response, like he had anticipated this from her. Yuki, from her reputation, was known to be a lazy sorcerer, and at times, was known for instigating several questionable conversations with others in the past. Geto was upset, but he wouldn’t let his emotions get the better of him. You had taught him better than that. 

“What about them?”

“Ever notice that the more non-sorcerers there are, the more curses tend to appear?” 

“Yes. Non-sorcerers are more susceptible to creating curses from their negative emotions. That’s basic knowledge.” He had already had this conversation with you, so what was she getting at? Was she going to try to change his mind?

“I’m just trying to put it into perspective.” Shrugging, she turned to face him. “Can you imagine a world without non-sorcerers?” 

“A curse user was the one to put Y/N in the hospital.” Geto responded rather coldly, eyes narrowing as he turned to her. “This conversation doesn’t apply to this situation, and I find it highly redundant. If you’re trying to spew your ideals onto my own, I’ll let you know my view on the matter has changed.”

“You sound rather confident when you say that, Geto-San.”

“What matters right now is that Y/N gets better.”

“Well then, since we’re on the topic of your friend–” Geto’s eyes followed her as she moved to stand. “Maybe if you and Gojo could handle your own problems, Obinata-san wouldn’t have ended up here in the first place.” 

“Excuse me?” Venom bit at the words that left his mouth, his fists clenching at his sides. 

“Think about it,” She hummed, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “She never put herself into these situations until you and Gojo started getting into trouble. From what Chiyo told me, she practically begged to be put on that mission with you.” She smirked, placing a hand on her hip. “And what happened on that mission? I could tell you.” Leaning forward, her finger quickly came to poke at his nose, mockingly. “She risked her life to change your mind, and that’s not even the best part. You kissed her, and she’s been avoiding you ever since.” 

Geto was at a loss for words. You asked to be put on that mission? He had coincidentally caught you a matter of times saying things you probably didn’t mean, like you were caught up in the past, but it seemed you were willingly putting yourself into trouble to help him. As flattering as it was, there was no denying how undeniably selfless and idiotic you had become. Not to mention the kiss. You knew about that too?

He didn’t know whether to be horrified, embarrassed, or angry with you. 

“And look what that did? Avoiding the two of you lead her on to that suicide mission. You practically almost killed her.” She had the audacity to laugh, like this was funny. “I’d stick to your losses and just date Gojo, you two make a good couple anyway.” 

Geto went to stand, to say something that would shut her up, but it was all cut short by the sound of footsteps running down the hallway from your room. Chiyo, exasperatedly waved the two of them down, an ever growing smile forming on her face.

“Hey! You two! Y/N woke up!”

For some reason, the nerves in Geto’s stomach had only multiplied. He was going home. 

The next time that you opened your eyes, you were finally able to register the immense pain that was radiating throughout your body. A few groans of discomfort slipped out from between your lips and alerted the person sitting at your bedside. 

“Again?” He sighed as he stood up to walk around and push the button to your PCA pump, but stopped as he saw your eyes open. “Y/N?”

You attempted to speak but all that came out was a hoarse moan. Clearing your throat you tried again, this time squeaking out a meek “Satoru?”

You would think that he would be overjoyed yet he visibly hesitated, searching your face for something. “Where are you right now?”

You made a noise of confusion. “A hospital?”

“No, no, like… who am I?”

He was starting to piss you off now. “You’re my friend...? At least, I think that’s what we are.” Sensing his hesitation, your brows furrowed. “Are you trying to tell me differently?”

You remember the fight– Satoru coming to your rescue, the stairs and the sickening impact that followed, and then the darkness that swallowed you whole. 

He stood completely still for a moment, hand resting on the button of the pump before ignoring your question completely. “Do you need pain meds?”

As if he had summoned it, another wave of pain crashed over you and you weakly nodded. “I feel like I’m dying.”

Gojo snorted after pushing it, carefully maneuvering his arms under your legs. With a short huff, he moved your feet over, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “You kinda did, Obi-chan.”

“Oh?” You pondered his words and looked him up and down. “From what I remember, you should be worse off than me.”

He jutted out his chin as he replied cockily, raising the hem of his shirt in the process. “Nah– Check it out! Barely a mark left and months worth of difference in the healing time.”

You stared open mouthed at his abs, blushing slightly as your eyes skimmed over his chest, catching on the white mark just below his ribs. That was a sight you would never get tired of, you were almost married to him, god damnit!

You went to say something equally snide but the words caught in your throat. “...Months? What do you mean?”

“I thought we were gonna have to hold you back, but Yaga-sensei is nice enough to let you graduate on time if you haul ass.” He lowered his shirt as he shrugged his shoulders. “Can’t say we’ve learned much in the 2 months you’ve been out, but you never know with you. I mean, you could drop off the face of the earth again and come back with another concussion!”

You didn’t know how to reply. “Did– uh, did you... find what I was looking for?”

“The finger? No.” He sighed in annoyance. “We had someone go back for it after we knew you were in stable condition. It was gone by the time they checked. Guess that guy wasn’t alone.” 

“...Ichiro?” You whispered it through a breath, lungs tightening painfully at your attempt to breathe. “He…?”

“Dead.” It was automatic, his eyes sharpening at the idea that he was anything but. “I’m assuming that was your brother?”

“...” Before you could say anything, your voice cracked into a low whimper, and then you began to cry. “I feel so horrible– I dragged you into my mess, and then you had to kill someone because of me– How could I be so stupid? I only wanted to help, that's all I ever wanted to do–” Thinking about it, that was something Ichiro had once said too. 

It was as if your entire world had crumbled around you. Your brother, who you believed to be dead until recently, had in fact survived in this timeline only to spite you. He had spared you in the past with the undeniable truth that was love, but now? He had disregarded you as a pawn in the way of Kenjaku’s plan. You couldn’t fathom what that curse could have said in order to convince your brother onto his side. Before you didn’t even know your brother was still alive, but to learn that Kenjaku had been able to manipulate him? Things had changed. 

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Gojo’s hand reached forward to touch your shoulder. “Me? Getting my hands dirty? You could’ve died– you almost did. I am the least of your concerns–”

“You mean more to me than you think–”

“Are you flirting with me?” It came out smug, his smirk betraying the turmoil he felt in his gut. “Watch out– I’m a taken man now.”

Your eyes widened, the shock evident on your face. “What...?” Just what the hell had you missed? “...Who? I mean– that's great for you, that’s… yeah.”

“Envy is a sin, Y/N.” The smile on his face faltered a little, it was clear your reaction bothered him. “You should send the congratulations gift to Suguru, though.” 

Of course. If it had been anyone else you’d– you could approve of Suguru. 

“When he comes to visit, I’ll make sure to get on that.” You cleared your throat, but you couldn’t deny the painful way your stomach had dropped. It’s as if Gojo’s words had personally taken your heart, and ripped it out. 

“That’ll have to wait. He’s a little angry with you right now. He hasn’t come by to see you in a while.” 

“...What? What did I do...? I’ve been in and out for months, there wasn’t anything I could do to piss him off– did I miss his birthday or something?” You knew for a fact you hadn’t. “If that’s a joke, it isn’t fucking funny.” 

“I’m not joking.” Satoru hummed, throwing his head back as he looked towards the ceiling. “And I'm not happy either.”

“Are you serious? Just get to the point– what did I do? Why are you here? Is this just to rub it all in my face?”

“Ignorance is bliss, right? Besides, you just woke up, I don’t know if I should just throw it all on you.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and responding to a text as if you weren’t there anymore. 

“You just did.”

“Hah! Wow, I did, didn’t I?” Snapping his phone shut, he laughed. “Suguru’s here to pick me up, we’ve got a mission to go on– so this is the last we’re gonna see of each other for a bit! What a coincidence you decided to wake up, huh?” Sitting up, he made no effort in returning your button to you. “I’ll make sure to tell Shoko you woke up, ‘kay?”

“...Satoru–” 

“Actually, before I go,” He walked towards you, all sense of humor drained from his tone. “Both Shoko and Suguru got to do this, so I'm sure it’s only fair–” Bringing his hands to your face, he was quick to rip you upwards. You let out a cry of shock, but it was silenced by the sudden crashing of his lips on yours. 

For some reason... given the circumstances, this felt wrong. You had hoped this moment would’ve come at a better time, and not in an attempt to mock you, but it happened. It was happening. Gojo Satoru was kissing you. 

As if the action disgusted him, Satoru pulled away. “You’re welcome, by the way. I didn’t know you thought we were fiances, but I figured you’d appreciate the sentiment given you dream about me.” 

Speechless, you only stared at him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

“Go on. Say it.” Had he only done this for a reaction?

What was there to say? You could only look at him. This fucking asshole.

“Say I'm an asshole. I know you want to.” 

Silence.

“Are you fucking joking?”

Nothing. The only thing you gave him was cold silence.

“I–” As if he had just made the realization of his actions, he stepped back, eyes wide with shock. “...I–”

You only stared, and with a blink of your eye, a single tear had dropped. You made no motion to swipe it away, and instead, kept your hard gaze on his own. 

He did nothing but pull away, rushing towards the door. Slinging it open with all the strength he could muster, he quickly left the room, not bothering to look back. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving you with the occasional sound of your heart monitor to accompany you. You were alone. 

At the settling feeling of your isolation, the dam behind your eyes collapsed. You didn’t try to fight it– not like you could– and you let yourself cry. After all you had done, after all that you had accomplished, why weren’t you happy?

It was just like Ichiro had said. "When will you start caring about your future?”

You had sacrificed everything. 

You worked so hard to fix the past, to make sure everyone else got their happy ending– but you had failed to account for your own. 

You had no one to blame but yourself, so why were you so angry? And why did it hurt so badly?

Chapter Text

“Scoot over!” Nanako screeched loudly in your ear, but her words were directed towards her sister. “You took up all the room! Your fatass needs to move–” It was safe to say Nanako and Mimiko’s personalities had truly ‘flourished’ under Toji’s care, and wasn’t it obvious? The influenced habit of cursing was indeed his trademark, and they took it on well.

Her hands flew over you, matching the combative stance of her sister. Hand in hand, they began to tussle above you, ignoring the complaints from those around. 

“Nanako, language!” Riko chastised, throwing Toji a glare that screamed ‘help me out here’, but in kind, only got a shrug in response. 

“She’s fighting me–!” Mimiko whined out, attempting to overtake her sister’s advancements. 

“How about you both grow up? You’ve had over an hour with our sister.” Megumi grumbled from the corner, arms crossed over his chest as he shook his head in disgrace. “Some of us wanted to talk to her too.”

At any other point in time, your heart would’ve flown out of your chest at the term ‘sister’, but nothing seemed to fill the gnawing hole that had settled in your gut. Gojo and Geto stuck true to their word and hadn't come to visit you. You hadn’t wanted to tell Shoko about what had happened, but as time passed, you ended up cracking when she expressed her concern for you. 

It was safe to say that they were on her shit list; in fact, they seemed to have gotten on everyone’s shit list. 

Their attempts at consoling you didn’t help, either. It ranged from Chiyo threatening to just fail them, making it so they couldn’t graduate, to Toji giving you an… unsavory list on his variety of cursed weapons. 

Granny had only shook her head, disappointed after Gojo had gone through the lengths of sending her updates each day he had stayed with you. After the first week, she announced to the group that she wasn’t allowing them at their home anymore, and it seemed all the children were in high agreement. 

Unbeknownst to yourself, your expression had fallen at the thought of those idiots, but your family read your distress loud and clear. 

“Don’t worry about those two, Y/N. Next time they come near our home, I'll shove a tampon up both their asses. It’ll be way better than whatever action they could get.” You choked as you laughed incredulously. Riko had such a way with words.

Tsumiki, who alongside Riko, normally chastised inappropriate commentary, only giggled at Riko’s insinuation. 

“Women are gross.” Megumi scoffed, crossing his arms. “It would be better just to kill them both. That stupid Gojo Satoru is a tool.” 

Toji laughed in agreement, hand coming down to ruffle his hair. “You really are my son.”

“Was that even a question...?” Megumi gave him a perturbed look, shrinking away from his touch. 

He only grinned in response, shrugging his shoulders. “With how many kids I've got now? Everything’s questionable.”  

The chatter had mellowed down to a certain degree, ranging from half-baked revenge plots to school drama. Seemingly bored with the conversation, Toji exited the room, not returning for a while. You worried to yourself; he may be semi-domesticated, but you knew what he could get into. It only took one incident with a crappy gacha phone game for you to realize his gambling addiction still ran strong. 

Granny Obi instructed Kaoru and Megumi to move a chair next to you so that she could sit closer, complaining all the while about how her knees had started to hurt. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of you; the conversation about Ichirou was inevitable, seeing as you owed each other an explanation. 

Your brother had left home when you were only a child, and the majority of the memories you had of him had been repressed. It was safe to say that it was a similar case with your Granny, the only surviving member of the Obinata clan that would have a full recollection of the events of that night. 

Each time you thought about asking what had happened to your brother's body you bit your tongue. Would he be buried in the family plot near the temple? Among the very blood he had spilt? 

As if sensing your tension, Granny Obi reached for your hand, holding you tight as she began to gratuitously talk shit about Geto and Gojo. Though your eyes had been burning with tears each time you were reminded of them, the colorful language that she used brought you out of your funk. Their meeting last year wasn’t the best to begin with, so you knew that she had been holding these opinions back for a while. 

But, as proven by the circle of life, all good things must come to an end. Eventually, they all had to leave. The kids had school in the morning, and according to Riko, Toji was apparently on thin ice with the school’s PTA. He had returned at one point, pouting for a reason you didn’t want to fathom. He only smirked at you when he saw you staring, so you decided that it would be best if you left him to his own devices. 

You weren’t alone for long, as an eager Chiyo, Izuza, and some strange, attractive woman soon arrived. 

You raised a brow at Chiyo, surprised to see her back together with her girlfriend. She only waved her hand at you in response, as if to say “We’ll talk about it when you’re better”. 

You turned instead to greet this new mysterious blonde woman but were greeted with a hand in your face. “Hi! I’m Yuki Tsukumo– I tried to meet ya before, but that albino would shoo me away any time I tried. Something about how 'I’m too loud and disruptive' when you were resting– which is rich coming from him.”

Izuza rolled her eyes and sent Chiyo a pleading look. 

Chiyo cleared her throat, turning to her friend. “Ah, Yuki, could you go grab us drinks from the vending machine?”

“Wow, sending me away too? I see how it is.” She said smugly, but pulled herself away. “Alright, don’t have girl talk without me though, I’ll be back.” Leaving the room, the door softly shut behind her. 

“Chiyo, babe, I don’t know how you put up with her– “ She groaned as she sat in one of the chairs by the window. “Anyways, Y/N, how are you feeling lately? We brought you a gift– Chiyo?”

“Oh! Yeah,” She rummaged in her purse for a moment, coming out with a slightly crushed box. “Whoops, sorry about that.” She made a show of fluffing up the bow, thrusting it into your hand while giggling. “Ok– all better. Open it!”

They were the first people to have brought you a gift and you got excited, ripping the paper off to find– “Oh. It's… Dolce and Gabbana perfume…”

A sweet perfume enveloped you as Chiyo did her best to swallow you into a hug. “Of course it is! To commemorate the beginning of our friendship. Oh– and this–” She brought out a large stack of papers. “Is the school work you have to catch up on.” 

Izuza sighed. “Chiyo, I thought we decided you were gonna wait until we left to lay that on her.”

“Yeahhh, but I got caught up in the moment.” She grinned shyly. 

The weight of the papers was giving you a headache– you really did miss a lot. “It’s fine! I was… worrying about catching up anyways. Could you set them on the bedside table for me?”

“Okkkk! I bought the drinks, let’s get straight to it,” Yuki waltzed in, four drinks clutched to her chest as she passed them out. “I hope y’all don’t mind that I chose at random.” 

You were handed a lukewarm coke, scrunching your nose as you opened it. “Where did you get this?”

“Found it,” She spoke quickly, leaving no room for question. Awkward tension filled the air, and you sunk back into your pillow.

“Aaaanywaaaays…” Chiyo nervously laughed, taking a seat in the seat Granny had left at the side of your bed. “How are things with... Y’know–”

“Chiyo.” Izuza was short, throwing her a small glare. “Please, this is hardly the time.” 

“I know, but It’s killing me not to check in– She helped us with our relationship, I want to help her with her own.” Chiyo gave your shoulder a supportive squeeze. “Gojo and Geto have been miserable to have in class. You’re not missing much.”

Yuki’s eyes seemed to light up at the mention of Suguru’s name, and for some reason, it made your skin crawl. Did you miss something?

“Ah, Geto-San nearly cursed me out last time we spoke!” Yuki laughed, walking over to your bed before she invited herself to sit down near your knees. “What about those two? Oh, don’t tell me you’re still stressed over the fact he kissed you–”

“How do you know about that?” You sat up again, eyes pulled into a sneer. Dragging your eyes over to Chiyo, who instinctively scooted her chair back to avoid the brunt of your accusation. 

“Wow, would you look at that, I have to get to my gynecologist appointment–” Chiyo moved to sit up, but was gripped by the shoulders by her girlfriend, who only forced herself back into the chair.

“Chiyo let it slip, I apologize on her behalf.” Izuza sighed, leaning over her shoulder. “You know how she is. She really can’t keep her mouth shut about some things.”

“Imsorrygirltalkjustslipsout!” Chiyo muffled her apology through her hands.

“It’s not that big of a deal.” Yuki laughed under her breath. “Besides, with them gone, your life is much simpler, right? Now you can focus on recovery and not stupid boys.” 

“No…” Your response came out shaky, and if looks could kill, Yuki Tsukumo would be dead ten times over. “Those were my friends.” 

The room went stiff, and Izuza sent Yuki a glare of her own. From what you could gather, Yuki had done something to interfere with your relationship with Suguru and Satoru. That thought made you sick to your stomach, and you bared your teeth into a snarl.

“You said something to them, didn’t you?”

Yuki shrunk back, but the grin on her lips didn’t waver. Was this funny to her? Was meddling with people’s lives just her end goal? How miserable was this woman? “My apologies, I didn’t get the idea you reveled in the attention.” 

“...Attention?” The words left your mouth in a ghostly whisper. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Woah, woah– Yuki, that’s uncalled for.” Chiyo was quick to support you, throwing her friend a look of astonishment. “It’s nothing like that.”

“You’re the reason my friends won’t talk to me, much less even visit me. What the hell did you say?” You, refusing to back down, sat up. Izuza ushered you to sit still, but with your new found adrenaline, you found yourself tearing at your iv. 

The mood had shifted entirely, the two women at your side gesturing for Yuki to leave the room. As to why they thought inviting this bitch was a good idea was beyond you. Izuza, god bless this woman, took it upon herself to remove her entirely– having a few choice words. 

Chiyo– who looked mortified– could only spew apologies at your bedside. It seems she didn’t know Yuki was responsible for your troubles. 

You had a lot to think about now, and many questions that were left unanswered. 

Eventually, your teacher and her girlfriend had to take their leave, wishing you the best. To be honest, you were thankful for the perfume, knowing that now, you didn’t have to smell yourself the entirety of your stay. 

To say your day was uneventful was an understatement, as it appeared almost everyone had made time in their schedules to come see you.

As both Nanami and Haibara made their appearance, the latter brandished a bag of sweets in his hand. “Y/N-senpai! Shoko just told us that you were awake, so we came as soon as we could!”

You tried to sit up and look the part of a cool upper-classmate, but groaned as you felt the pressure on your lungs. With a wheeze, you attempted to relax back into your pillow. 

“Take it easy, you don’t need to put on airs for us.” Nanami quietly spoke, while Haibara eagerly nodded. 

“Yeah! Sit back and relax while we catch you up on our training.” He made a show of flexing his arms, which, wow. “We’ve worked ten times as hard to catch up to you! We passed our last mission with flying colors– I wish you could have been there to see us in action.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you realized that you had missed that event entirely. You hadn’t been around to stop Haibara’s possible death, but in the end it didn’t matter . The rush of relief was disorienting to say the least. For once it didn’t all fall onto your shoulders to set things right. “That’s so great– I’m so, so proud of you.” In the flurry of your own pride, tears burned at your eyes.

A faint blush colored Haibara’s ears as he grinned and looked away from you, too shy to hold your gaze. “It wasn’t much– your training was so much harder.”

Nanami smiled slightly, rolling his eyes at his friend’s show of humility. “We’re glad that you’re ok, Y/N-senpai. You were out for so long we thought–”

You stopped him before he could finish. “It’s fine– How about you guys catch me up on the things I’ve missed?” 

They knew an impressive amount of pop culture drama for two teenage boys. It was a welcome change from the boring news station the hospital TV was stuck on, and you found yourself laughing when Haibara made a silly face at Nanami, resulting in the blonde hitting him upside the head. 

They reminded you of your own friends, but for some reason, you didn’t find yourself thinking of them at all in this short time. You sure had missed Nanami and Haibara, so your day could only get better from here. 

“Mind if I join the party?” A gruff voice came from the doorway, drawing your attention to Yaga-sensei and… a panda?

You remembered what Panda looked like the first year he was admitted into Jujutsu Tech, but to see him so small that Yaga-sensei was able to carry him around? It was kind of adorable.

When Yaga-sensei came into the room, he did something you didn’t expect– he set Panda in your lap. You knew at this point you weren’t supposed to know who Panda was–or rather what he was, so was Yaga-sensei messing with you? 

Judging by the slight grin on his lips you made the connection that this was in fact a very silly prank. Just what was he thinking, trying to spook a seventeen year old girl who just came out of a two month coma? 

Haibara was none-the-wiser, however, and he made the mistake of leaning forward, closely inspecting Panda’s stitches. “Yaga-sensei, this has to be one of your best puppets! What does it do?”

A large fluffy head turned to stare at him, looking dead into his eyes as he exclaimed. “Panda is a panda!”

“OH MY GOD!” Haibara flew back, unceremoniously landing on top of Nanami. “Is it alive?” 

Panda stood up on the edge of the bed, making sure he didn’t step on your legs. “Panda isn’t an it– I’m a he!”

You tried your best to pretend you were shocked, but failed as giggles sneaked through your lips. It was truly too cute.

Haibara and Panda seemed to become quick rivals, arguing to the point that a stressed out Nanami had to hold his friend back. Yaga-sensei laughed at them as he lifted Panda from your lap, thrusting him towards a screeching Haibara. “Could you two take him outside? Just pretend he’s a stuffed animal– I need to talk with Obinata.”

Nanami took this request as an order, immediately turning to grab Haibara by the back of his collar. “Yu, let’s go.”

“But I didn’t even finish talking to Y/N-senpai yet! I don’t wanna babysit this thing!”

“Panda is not a thing! Panda–!” A punch landed right into Haibara’s jaw.. “Is!” Followed by another one. “A!” And another one. “Panda!” At the finishing statement, the door slammed shut, muffling the screams elicited from Haibara just beyond the room. This was a dynamic you hadn’t anticipated, but were all the more welcoming to.

As the mood shifted indefinitely, you found yourself swallowing hard as you avoided Yaga’s gaze. You could tell, even in your state, this conversation wasn’t just going to be about your recovery. 

“I’m sorry.” It came out of your mouth before you could think, and you hung your head. “I know I've caused you a lot of trouble. I should’ve told you.”

He sighed, hard. “I…” His hand came up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “As much as you’ve heard it, I'm very glad you’re okay, Obinata.” 

“With all due respect, what’s the catch, sir?” Your voice was quiet, like you were expecting the beatdown of your life. Yeah, you had just narrowly escaped death, but disappointment from your authority figures was a whole other plain of anguish. You fumbled with the skin around your thumbnail, cringing to yourself at your tone. It had probably come off disrespectful, but you genuinely just wanted this conversation to be over with. 

“There should be a catch, shouldn’t there?” Sitting himself down in the chair beside your bed, he held a firm gaze. “But I'm forgiving, and I want to hear what you have to say. You’re still my student at the end of the day, I pulled a lot of strings for you to remain at Jujutsu Tech.” 

“...I was after one of Sukuna’s fingers. It wasn’t an act of mutiny– I was trying to get ahead–”

“Get ahead of who? Your classmates?” His tone darkened. “I can promise you, I wouldn’t even put Gojo Satoru into that type of situation. If you’re concerned that people think you’re weak, that is definitely not the case. What are you trying to prove? That you’re becoming an idiot just like the rest of your class? I expected better from you.” As suspected, he was reprimanding you. 

“I… No, that’s not–” Stopping, you reminded yourself that anything you said would probably make you sound crazy. “I was trying to look out for everyone. If those objects fell into the wrong hands–”

“Like yours?” 

“Huh–?”

“You do understand how bad this looks for you, correct?” Yes, you wanted to say. “Going against direct jurisdiction as a student-- you are not a sorcerer yet, need I remind you– and obtaining an object you should know little about, raises suspicions over your head, correct?” That was correct.

“...I don't care how bad it makes me look.” 

“You should, with someone with your background–”

“What about my background? My dead family? Sorry to burst your bubble just like everybody else, but that wasn’t me. Gojo killed the one you’re looking for, if you’re so curious, why don’t you ask him? He suddenly knows about everything.” For the first time in your life, you were actually raising your voice to your teacher. 

“That’s not what I’m trying to say and you know it. Do not put words into my mouth, Obinata.” 

Groaning in frustration, you reached for your PCA button, wrapping your hand around the cord before pulling it closer to you. Yaga, sensing your struggle, went ahead and grabbed it for you. 

“Thank you.” You mumbled, eyes drooping slightly at the rush that infiltrated your veins. 

“Of course. I apologize for making you feel cornered in this conversation, I realize I'm not being fair to you, given your status. That’s terrible foresite on my part.”

“Please, stop apologizing.” You met his eyes, breathing out of your nose. “I don’t need an apology from you. It won’t change anything.”

“...What happened? Can I ask you that instead?”

“My brother, Ichiro, was the one who murdered my family. He disappeared, but I believed him to be dead. He was sick. Really sick.” You were going to keep this story to a minimum, knowing if you thought about it too hard, you might make yourself sick. “I went looking for the fingers because I was afraid they would fall into the wrong hands. Call it a strange infatuation, whatever you’d like, but I read too much about them. If someone got a hold of them, someone bad , like my brother– or worse, someone trying to bring back Ryoumen Sukuna… can you imagine how many more people would have to die? Student or not, how can I call myself a sorcerer if I don’t try my hardest to protect the people who can’t protect themselves? More importantly, how do I protect the people who are risking their lives for the same reason?”

Yaga had gone quiet, a stiff hand reaching up to pull the sunshades from off his face. 

“People like you. People like Shoko, Suguru– Satoru. They care so much for others, even if they don’t act like it, and they neglect themselves.”

“Y/N, for someone so wise, I wish you held the same ideals for yourself.” 

“...I…” You did too. “I’m trying.” Biting your lip, you could feel the similar sensation of water burning at your eyes. Normally, crying in front of your teacher was something you could only dread from nightmares– but right now? You could hardly care how broken he saw you. 

As if it was instinct, his warm hand came up to pat the top of your head. “You’ve had a lot of visitors today, you should rest.”

“Okay–” Your voice cracked and you swiftly nodded your head, the hand free of your iv coming up to wipe at your face. “Yes sir.”

“Wow, you look like shit.” Shoko was next, hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. It was as if time had proven its task; to change. Everyone around you was changing, and you were missing out on it all. “How many times have you pressed that today?” Gesturing to your pump, she took her sweet ass time getting comfortable on the side of your bed. Normally, she would’ve opted to sit on a chair, but it seemed she was aching to be closer to you. 

“What? Not funny?” She blinked at your lack of response, sighing as she laid down beside you. “Man, you’ve got to get out of here. This place is making you boring.” 

You laughed. “I’m anything but, you’re the one that’s supposed to be monotone all the time.”

“Yeah, and I'd like to keep it that way. You can’t steal my thing.” 

“Work some of your magic and get me out of here.”

“Uh, honey… I did that already. That’s why you’re alive.”

“Booo, you got nerfed–” With a sound of protest, a pillow came crashing down over your face. 

“If you can get away with attempted suicide on a daily basis, I can get away with murder–”

Muffled words akin to ‘die’ were audible beyond the pillow smothering you, and after a short moment, you managed to pull it off. Using whatever strength you had, you slung the pillow into her face. She let out a noise in response, nearly falling off the side of your bed. 

“Okay, okay, I yield.” Shoko held her hands up in defeat, throwing a narrow glance towards the bed and the floor. “Damn, you ever scared you’ll fall off this thing?”

“No, considering I usually don’t have grown ass women trying to throw me off of it.” 

“What’s the fun in that? You totally miss sleepovers with me.”

Taking a moment to mull her words over, you frowned. “I really do.” 

“Saaaaapppppyyyy shiiiiiiiiiit.” 

“Is it really?” You cringed, sucking in a breath. You hadn’t meant to come across as cheesy, but being around your best friend less and less really put your world into perspective. You were lonely. You were so miserable, and nothing was going to make it better.

Sure, seeing your friends come into your room to wish you a good recovery distracted you from this feeling, but it was fleeting, and once it left? You were back at square one. Is this how Ichiro had lived the rest of his life? Alone and miserable? Unloved?

He had tried to kill you, so why were you feeling so guilty?

“No. I miss you too.” Shoko laid her head down across from you, blinking slowly as she sniffled. “I really miss you.”

“...I’m glad I mean that much to someone.”

“Everyone.”

Sighing, you took this as your sign to turn away from her.

“Don’t give me that attitude,” Sitting up, she stared over you. “Everyone cares about you. Everyone.” She put heavy emphasis on that word. 

Everyone ?

What a joke.

“Really feeling the love here, Shoko.” Sarcasm laced your tone, and you could feel a questionable feeling in your gut. Were you angry?

“You care too much about what others think of you.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“Yeah, you’re right, because I don’t give a fuck.”

“They haven’t come to visit me. Not once. Yaga-Sensei even made time for me.”

Shoko, for once, couldn’t think of anything witty to say in response. “I don’t understand what their problem is. I really don’t.”

“So that’s it? I’m just thrown aside like I don’t matter? Suguru can kiss me and then forget it ever happened? Satoru can come in here, rub their relationship in my face, and then kiss me too? Do I mean nothing to them?”

“I think you mean a whole lot, if I’m being honest.” Shoko grabbed your shoulder, turning you on to your back so you could actually look at her. “I think they… are mourning.”

“Mourning? I’m right here–”

“You don’t understand, Y/N.” Shoko breathed out, tone solemn. “What we saw– it was horrifying. You died in our hands. Even if it was only for a second, you did die. I think they can mourn over someone they never lost, just this once.” 

“...but why ignore me?”

“Because they blame themselves.”

“What?”

“They think they’re responsible.” 

“That’s bullshit–”

“They’re entitled to their feelings, Y/N. I’m your friend first, but I know what coping looks like, and I understand them. Geto was the one to puncture your lung.” 

“...huh?”

“We were administering CPR, and I... I was too weak to do it myself. I asked him and Gojo to help me. If it weren’t for them, you would have died. A hundred percent.” Looking over your monitors, she went quiet, before moving to speak again. “Gojo was the one who wanted to go looking for you. He broke into your room thinking you were just ignoring us, but… when he found your notes, well, he lost it. ” 

“But that isn’t their fault, you’ve told them that, right?” You winced, blinking rapidly as black dots slowly came into view. You weren’t going to faint, but the pain made you feel like you were.

“It doesn’t really matter what I say. It doesn’t matter if It comes from me. So,” Moving to click your button, she grunted as she reached over you. “That’s why you have to get better, and do it yourself, or y’know… a restraining order is always a good idea.”

At the adjustment to your medication, your vision settled again. “...Satoru said they were angry with me.”

“Geto’s brooding in his feelings, and Gojo’s an apathetic prick. They’re just riding it out together, what do you expect? They’re so far removed from life, concepts like death freak them out. If they truly didn’t care about you, they would’ve never reacted so horribly.” 

“...So you’re saying I just need... To talk to them?”

“A long ass talk, not a half assed one.” 

“Boys are disgusting.” 

“Agreed. So are you. You seriously need to take another shower.”

“Shoko, how about you kindly go kill yourself.” 

You told yourself that after everyone had left, you would eat the sherbet that the hospital graciously provided for free(you’ve had six) and turn on the only bearable channel that they had. You did manage to sit through half an episode of a children’s show before you finally caved. 

You were crying, again, for what felt like the umpteenth time this week. While seeing your friends and family on a semi-regular basis was helping you keep your head afloat, spending these small hours alone in this hospital room were driving you insane. To be honest with yourself, this might’ve been the lowest you had ever felt emotionally. This was horrible, there was no fancy way of putting it. 

Your head had begun to hurt from crying so hard and you blindly felt around your bed for the button to your PCA pump. The frustration from your search was congruent with the overwhelming sense of despair you were feeling and the two were burgeoning with each second. 

The only thing you could find in the mess of blankets was your cellphone. Gripping it tight you flipped it open and went to send a message to Shoko, something succinct that would encapsulate your current state. 

Y/N: Shoko, loml, can we commit a double suicide? 

Y/N: my head hurts so fucking much; your girl can’t do it anymore

Despite the pain, you cackled to yourself, leading to you hunched over and coughing. The monitor next to you went off and from what you felt in your chest, you knew the cause. 

“Obinata-san? Are you ok?”

You waved the aide that had come to check on you off, giving them half-hearted platitudes that lacked veritability. You knew that they were just doing their job but the whole thing was asinine. You felt like a mess– you knew you were a mess. 

Once you were able to draw a steady breath, you laid back into bed, inhaling steadily through your core to avoid another attack. This was so ass. 

Your cell rang and you groaned at the exertion it took to whip it out, only to freeze at the words you saw. 

The Real Housewives of Jujutsu Tech:

Shoko: Babe? Wrong gc but im down when u r 

Ah. As if you couldn’t get anymore pathetic in their eyes.

Y/N: :)))) 

Geto: ?

Y/N: wrong chat! :) sorry, geto

Your stomach rolled as you waited for another response, possibly from some albino smart ass who would probably say something along the lines of “ damn, am i not invited?” 

But there was nothing.

Closing your phone, you set it on the bedside table, choosing instead to stare at the ceiling, despondent. Was everything so completely fucked that you couldn’t even maintain a casual relationship with them? 

The tears came back with a vengeance falling from the corners of your eyes past your ears. You could feel the negative emotions within your core propagating and your curse energy was fluctuating in response. But no matter what technique you employed, you couldn’t bring yourself back under control. 

It grew and grew; then finally–

“Scoot over!” Nanako screeched loudly in your ear, and you found yourself flinching in shock. Nanako? “You took up all the room! Your fatass needs to move–” Oh.

You had gone back.

Had you been so caught up in your emotions that you lost control of your technique? And why come back?

Nanako’s hands flew over you, and just like before, Mimiko was quick to meet her. They struggled, battling in their strength to push the other off the edge. 

“Nanako, language!” Riko was quick to reach over to the two of them, throwing Toji the same look. 

“She’s fighting me–!” Mimiko whined out, attempting to overtake her sister’s advancements. 

“How about you both grow up? You’ve had over an hour with our sister.” Megumi grumbled from the corner, arms crossed over his chest as he shook his head in disgrace. “Some of us wanted to talk to her too.”

If you continued to stay silent, this conversation would once again steer in the direction of Gojo and Geto. Mustering all that you could in your fatigue, you sat up, snaking one of your arms around both of the girls. 

“Megumi...” You started, lightly coughing to yourself. This seemed to rip his attention away from his brooding, and his eyes shot up to your own. “You can come up here too, y’know?”

“I….” Caught in a battle with himself, you watched as the kid lowered his gaze to the ground. His cheeks had reddened, likely from the embarrassment. He had just called you his sister. His decision-making came quickly as Kaoru nudged him forward, encouraging it, and he walked himself over to the side of your bed.

Mimiko, aware of Megumi’s love for personal space, quickly snuck out of your arms and crawled over to Nanako’s side. The two twins scooted accordingly, Nanako snuggled into your arm as Megumi climbed on the other side. 

Riko huffed, poking out her cheeks as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought we agreed not to bother Y/N while she’s recovering.”

“Awe, Riko, you’ll get your turn too- I promise.” Smiling, for once, you lightly adjusted yourself so Megumi wouldn’t get caught tangled in your IV. 

“Oh.. alright.” Riko sighed, biting the side of her cheek. At the end of the day, she longed for your attention too, it seemed. 

Your grandma let out a sigh, garnering your attention as you gazed over her form. You hadn’t noticed it before, but she looked exhausted-- more than usual. “Yes, Granny?”

“Oh, nothing.” Although her demeanor had slightly changed, her smile remained the same. Warm. Beautiful. “I’m just admiring you, that’s all.” 

Toji let out a huff, leaning against the wall beside the frail old lady. They had become quite the duo, according to what Riko had told you. Toji would never admit it, but it was clear he had gone out of his way, time and time again, to take care of her.

 “Get better soon, I don’t know if I can take anymore of this.” Gesturing to the kids, he lazily flicked his wrist. Though his words were laced with tension, his satisfied smirk betrayed him. 

You released a laugh, one that shook your whole body. Your smile hurt from how wide it was, and you brought your hand to wipe at your face. “From what I hear, they’ve been taking care of you, Toji.” 

“Yeah! Old man, what the hell are you saying?” Nanako piped up from beside you, but immediately regretted it at the sight of Toji’s harsh glare.

“Oi, language.” Toji was quick to correct her this time, and it only made your grin widen. 

“You didn’t correct her before?” Tsumiki leaned her head against her father’s arm, and he didn’t flinch away from the touch. “Sounds like you just care when your words are used against you.” 

“I'm technically the parent here. Don’t go questioning my authority, brat.”

“I question you all the time.” Megumi scoffed, shaking his head as he laid against your other arm. “Like right now, for example.”

“See what I mean?” Toji raised a brow towards you. “With this many kids, I don’t blame you for going and getting yourself hurt. I would too if I wasn’t stuck playing taxi driver for a bunch of kindergarteners.”

“Hey! That’s not nice!” Riko exclaimed, reaching over Granny’s head to punch Toji in the shoulder. It likely didn’t hurt, and gathering his reaction, he didn’t even feel it. “I am a high schooler, thank you!”

“Oh, are you now? Well, Miss ‘High schooler’, might I offer you some advice?” Leaning over Granny’s chair, Toji smiled over her. “Start acting like it.”

“Toji, what is with you having senseless beef with children?” You sighed, eyes flickering over his face. “Take some of your own advice and act your age. Speaking of which– How old are you? I don’t think I ever asked–”

“Well, that’s my cue.” Toji took this as his sign to leave, pushing himself off the wall with his foot. “I’m going to go look around, find a vending machine or something, and before you ask– No, I ain’t bringing you anything back.”

“Yeah, cause you’re dirt poor.” Megumi said, dumbfounded.

“...Poor?!” Last you checked, you had deposited his 60 million yen little over a year ago– had he blown it all in just a year?! 

Toji Fushiguro offered no response as he quickly left the room, bringing the handle with him as the door shut behind him.

Tsumiki had filled the silence afterward, choosing to bring her chair closer to your group on the bed. Talking about her time at school, to boys, Tsumiki and the other kids were quick to consume any ounce of thought you gave to the two teenagers who seemed to corrupt your happiness. 

You honestly couldn’t tell if you were going crazy, but some part of you didn’t want to let this day end. 

You didn’t have to, did you?

A confused Yuki Tsukumo sat next to you, trying her best to match your energy- cracking under the pressure of your eerie smile.

When it had come time for their visit, you had boldly told Izuza to take Chiyo with her to get the drinks instead, waiting patiently for them to leave as you shared an awkward silence with this “unknown woman”. 

“While I’m excited that we are becoming fast friends– it seems like there’s something that you wanna say…” She chuckled softly, ignorant to the way your gaze sharpened. 

The corners of your lips turned up in the facade of a demure smile as you tried to think of an appropriate way to broach the subject. You weren’t above full out reaming her, but you had to consider the repercussions. “I was just in some mood for some one on one girl talk, y’know?”

“OH! Yeaahhhh, I get ya.” She leaned forward while giving you a wink. “This is about your Geto, huh?”

You resisted the urge to grab her by the hair as you responded shyly. “H-how did you know about that?”

“It’s come up a couple of times these past few months.” Damn Chiyo, that girl couldn’t keep her mouth shut to save her life.

“Is that so?” You cocked your head to the side. “What have you heard?”

Yuki rested her head on her hand as she gave you a sly grin. “Few things here and there, like how he kissed you while you were ‘asleep’.” 

Understanding washed over you, followed by chilling horror. Somehow, your bitch of a teacher/friend let it slip that you knew. As if it was her fucking business to spread that around. 

“Chiyo said that?” Dropping your head in feign embarrassment, you brought a hand to rub at your forehead. “Well, she.. Wasn’t exactly lying.” 

“And that’s totally fine. Who cares if you were awake? I always got the idea he was a creepy kind of teenager anyway.”

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Well, I don’t know, usually kids like you learn to appreciate being alive. You’re not getting any younger.” Searching for more of an explanation, you raised a brow. “What I mean to say is- someone so distanced from life is just kinda alarming, no? Like, he’s the type to be a ticking time bomb.” It felt like this was her best way of saying ‘Suguru Geto needed therapy.’

“Well, he has been around Gojo for a long time.”

“You’re telling me! I told them to just get together, since they like each other so much.”

Biting your tongue, it took everything in you not to do something you’d regret. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, and one girl to another, I didn’t appreciate how they treated you.”

“...Huh?” Now that was unexpected.

“They turn around and treat you like an object.” Laughing, she found herself sitting down by your bedside. “They’re hurting you by just being around you, I couldn’t stand to hear about it anymore.”
This was a complete 180 compared to the Yuki you had come face to face with before. She wanted to help you? Or was this another facade of hers?

“How’d you do it?” Your eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I’ve been trying to get Gojo off my back for years. How’d you do it?” Of course, this was a lie. If Yuki was going to be fake to your face, you might as well give her a taste of her own medicine. 

“Oh, y’know– I told Geto he was the reason you almost died, and I guess he told Gojo the same thing. I don’t really know why it bothered Gojo so much, seeing as he's not a sensitive person.”

Ah. So this was a complete misunderstanding. 

Suguru, believing he was somehow at fault for your isolation and reckless actions, distanced himself. That wouldn’t explain why or how Gojo behaved the day before, and honestly, you weren’t sure you could understand. 

All you knew was that Yuki ruined everything , even if she said she was only trying to help. 

Chiyo and Izuza returned sometime later, and like usual, the conversation gravitated to other subjects and you made a point to ignore Yuki’s responses entirely. You were glad to walk through the motions of opening the present and entertaining the whimsical topics Chiyo came up with, so long as that bitch didn’t talk the rest of the day. 

Sitting in bed patiently, you stared out the window while you pushed the food on your plate around. It wasn’t the best as far as nutrients went, but you were trying to be patient after they took the liberty of ignoring your request to change meals earlier that morning. 

As you reached for your call bell to ask for another sherbet, a boisterous teen marched into your room, followed by an exasperated blonde. 

You smiled at them in relief as you saw the bag of sweets in his hands. Dinner was saved! 

The day before you had been too distressed to process what they were telling you, but this time you could enjoy their visit to the fullest. 

“So, are you guys treating your underclassmen well?” 

Both Nanami and Haibara made a face and you paused your munching. From what you could remember, the students at this time were pretty tame– hell, Ijichi was one of them. What butterfly effect happened this time. 

Haibara cleared his throat as he considered how to answer your question. “There’s this new student who’s kind of…”

“A major asshole.” Nanami cut in. 

Haibara shook his head vigorously. “Yeah! Y/N-senpai, you have to come back to teach this guy a lesson. We can’t take it anymore!”

You raised your eyebrow. “Who?”

Nanam cut in, clenching his hand into a fist. “Naoya Zenin.”

You choked on your food, coughing as you stared at him in disbelief. That guy? He didn’t step foot in Jujutsu Tech once last time, what the hell is he doing there now? You focused on maintaining your composure. “Oh? Who is that?” 

“A complete ass.” Nanami supplied once more. 

You suppress a laugh. “Yeah, I think I got that.”

“He’s totally scary!” Haibara was quick to follow up, hands finding one of your own as he dropped to the side of the bed. “You have to come and give him the same treatment you gave us! Humble him!”

“Ahah– Yu, you’re grabbing my IV–”

As if your skin was hot to the touch, the brunette launched off of you, nearly barreling into the wall behind him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I totally wasn’t thinking–!”

“It’s alright.” Shaking your hand slightly, you cringed at the feeling at your vein rolling. “Seriously.”

Nanami cleared his throat, throwing Haibara a small glare. “Yes, Yu , it’s fine.” 

“Hah–?” As if on cue, Haibara’s face lit up in various shades of red, some of which you hadn’t thought to be possible. For the first time, you had called him by his first name. “Oh– Oh, okay! Sure, yeah! That’s my name– totally my name–” Earning an elbow to the ribs, his rambling was silenced. 

Nanami attempted to pick up the conversation where he left off, but before he could properly get a word in, the door had swung open. 

Yaga, as expected, came in with Panda in his arms. Pretending once again to act surprised, you didn’t fail to notice the way the puppet glowered at your brunette underclassman. If your technique came of any use, you were glad it had been able to save Haibara’s life.

This day seemed longer than the first time you had lived it, eyes threatening to close as Shoko laid beside you. At this point, the conversation you had held with her before was already over, and instead of falling asleep, you found yourself struggling (despite your fatigue). 

Your best friend had fallen asleep, bodies contorted together as she essentially spooned you. Hospital beds were small, but never too small for the unbreakable bond that was friendship. Shoko would find a way, and she did. 

You were thankful, for once, that you didn’t have to go out of your way to make conversation with Shoko. She was always understanding of your situation, and it seemed like out of everyone, she expected nothing from you in return. This was how friendship was supposed to be. No underlying questions beneath senseless sentiments, and no questionable affairs. 

Staring at her, you lost yourself in your mind, eyes screwed close together in desperate concentration. Shoko’s ability was a miracle, allowing her to regenerate lost limbs and deep wounds– as if she was reversing time itself. Of course, in reality, it wasn’t involved with time at all. That was your thing.

Time was your thing.

Could it be possible that your ability was the key to your recovery? What would happen if, hypothetically of course, you isolated your ability into your injuries? Could you imitate Shoko’s RCT? 

Your technique was hard to control as it was, and so far, you could only change one entire isolated object, or the entire timeline. Time was subjective in your hands, and if you could muster enough energy to minimize the output, but maximize the effect? You’d be golden. 

Of course, in this reality, it could very well just be a theory. You weren’t denying the fact it was possible, but it was important to remind yourself of your limits. You couldn’t test that now, especially with your exhaustion. If you slipped up, just once? You could very well wipe your existence from time all together. 

Exhaling, you found yourself staggering over each breath you took. This state you were in was starting to piss you off, and unlike everyone around you, you were in a rush to get the fuck out of here. This day, although long and tedious, was one of the best days you had endured in this hospital. Your family, sensei’s, and your friends- experiencing this for a second time had truly made it the best day. 

Taking little time in your decision making, you promptly decided to rewind this day once again . 

“Scoot over!” Was how it always started, and this time, you didn’t flinch at Nanako’s close proximity. 

Like before, and the time before that, the scene of your family played out in front of you. In a similar fashion, the twins had fought over your bed, and in your indifference, had concluded with the notion that there indeed was enough room for both of them. Megumi’s sardonic ass rivaled even that of his father, and in a less than fashionable exit, Toji escaped from your room once again.

Just what the hell he was doing was beyond you, and maybe one day you’d have the opportunity to investigate. When you weren’t bed ridden, of course.

Chiyo and her trio were quick to come and go, followed by Haibara and Nanami. Yaga, as expected, showed as well. For some reason you found no joy in the ‘surprise’ of their visits, as this had been the third time you’d experience it. 

Was it innately selfish to relive the same day over and over and prohibit others from living their life? Yes, absolutely. 

Did you care? No. 

For once in your life, you wanted to be selfish. You wanted to see your friends. You didn’t want this to end, but you knew it had to. This world was full of self-centered, cruel, evil people, who only did things for the benefit of themselves. In a world like this, you had no room to be selfish. 

But you couldn’t stop yourself this time.

Desperately grabbing for your phone, your abrupt actions sprung the monitor to life. It beeped, sporadically– like a warning– and your movement was unprecedented, just like the thoughts that ran through your head. 

You didn’t waste time typing in his number. 

You didn’t hesitate when you pressed the ‘call’ button either.

Sick. You felt sick to your stomach, like your heart was going to jump right out of your chest. Gojo Satoru’s name sat comfortable at the top of your phone screen, and the tone rang out flat to your ears.

“You’ve reached Gojo Satoru, who can be more important than that? Haaah? No one? Yeah, keep telling me more good things about myself, maybe I'll consider calling you back! ” The familiar beep of voicemail played out after. You got sent to voicemail? It wasn’t even him answering. It was his fucking voicemail.

“You motherfucker–” Your voice came out in heavy seethes, and through your rage, you were as good as blind. “You blocked me? Me? After everything I’ve done for you?” 

You weren’t going to cry. Not yet.

“Satoru Gojo, you’re a fucking dick, you know that? Do you understand just what I've sacrificed so you get to live your perfect, bullshit fantasy? So that you get to be the strongest?” You found yourself laughing. This weight was falling off your shoulders and you hadn’t even bothered to catch it. “You’re the greatest disappointment I’ve ever fucking met. You died.” Bringing the phone closer to your face, you sneered. “Yeah. You. You can do that.” 

At the rise of your hysteria, the tracker on your heart began to pick up. “Sukuna killed everyone by the way. And your boyfriend? Fuck him too.” Now the tears had begun to sting, a harsh tug pulling at the lesion over your chest. “Suguru wasn’t even supposed to be alive. He fucking died back in highschool, and I came back all this way to save him from it– and you have the fucking nerve to block me? To send me to voicemail?”

“The Gojo I knew was twice the man you are, and he fucking loved me. He appreciated me– He was going to marry me. We were going to get married–” Interrupted by a sob, you let out a growl in frustration. “We were going to get married and have the best fucking life– I was so happy.”

“You get to move on from your past, but I'm stuck living mine every damn day. How is that fair?! I’m so tired, Satoru– I’m so fucking tired. My brother, Kenjaku– those stupid fingers! All of this is your damn fault because I wanted to help YOU.” 

The only audible thing in the room was the echoes of your shattered, shaky breathing. 

“I hope you fucking enjoy your life, knowing it cost me mine.” 

Hanging up, you were quick to release an ear deafening scream into your pillow. Tears fell, cascading down your face in a race of time– one you wouldn’t be winning. Your shouts of frustration did nothing to cover the incessant screeching of your heart monitor, which had definitely alerted the nurses by now. 

Minutes into this episode and throughout the mess of your hospital room, your phone began to ring.

‘Satoru Gojo’, graced your screen in bold writing. He didn’t block you. In fact, he had heard everything.

In a panicked attempt, you grabbed hold of your phone, pupils dilating at the sight of his picture. You were going to have a heart attack. This felt worse than death.

What have you done? What the FUCK did you just do?! 

Launching your phone at the nearest wall, a sickening crack followed suit as its screen shattered. Splinters of glass shot across the room, the door ripping open at the nurses desperation to get to you in time. They were going to apprehend you.

There was only one thing you could do. 

For the fourth time, today was going to be a long day. 

Chapter Text

The room was silent.

The ragtag group that you called your family had arrived just on time, but when they entered the room, they could tell something was off. You didn’t seem to notice them at first, choosing instead to stare blankly at the wall.

Toji cleared his throat and you whipped your head to the entrance, forcing a smile. “Hey guys.”

Granny Obi only gave you a concerned look, leaning up to Toji to ask him to take the kids down to the gift shop to buy you something nice, handing him her wallet as she did so. “See if they have any chocolate bars, those are always a safe bet.”

Toji looked back at you with a raised brow. “Want anything specific?”

You shook your head as you spoke with a morose tone. “Nah, I’m good. Thank you, though.”

Megumi had taken the liberty of dragging the chair over for Granny, before she had even asked for it. His gaze roamed over your features to look for any indication of what could be bothering you. Riko grabbed him before he could ask, gesturing for the twins to follow her out the door as Tsumiki and Kaoru looked at you in concern. Toji turned his back, making some gesture at them that spurred them into action and they followed quickly behind, shutting the door as they left. 

Granny Obi took her place next to you, allowing her bag to hit the floor with a soft ‘thunk ’. She sighed and reached for your hand, the warmth startling you as the edges of your lips turned down. 

She waited a couple of beats before beginning. 

“Y/N.” Growing tense, your eyes looked into her eyes. “You know I love you, but what you’re doing is stupid.”

Suddenly, it was like your own breaths were deafening as you looked at her in horror. “Huh?”

“You know,” She started, shuffling in her seat as she cleared her throat. “When your father was about your age, he lost his father– my husband– to a car accident.” 

You frowned at the thought of your father. From what you could remember, he had always been a good person. Yes, he had a habit of making himself seem unapproachable with his burly physique. He had large, strong hands that made carrying you to bed so much easier, and you swore his warmth was the closest you’d ever get to the sun. Losing him, as hard as it already was, had never prepared you for the fear of forgetting his face. 

Death meant the only lasting memory of someone was in the minds of those left behind. The idea of death scared you, but it wasn’t because of the how or the why. You were afraid of what came after.

In your life, you became fairly accustomed and experienced with death. Losing your family was one thing you had grown to accept, but the concept of losing everyone who had ever loved you? As much as you tried to prepare for it, you found yourself back at the start every single time. Haibara, Suguru, Nanami, Yaga, and Gojo were all influential people in your life, and you had watched them die. You lived on with their memory, but when you passed, who would remember you?

That’s why you were afraid of death. 

“At the time they had always been at odds, arguing over stupid things, but it didn’t take much to see that they both truly loved each other. He really was his father’s son.” She laughed to herself. “Well, that morning they happened to have a falling out, and your father happened to have a similar ability to yours and… do you see where I’m going with this?”

You nodded minutely. “He reset time, didn’t he?”

She smiled as she nodded. “Yes, he did. But unlike you, he could never go quite as far. One moment I would be folding the laundry and the next I would be back to making breakfast. Each time I went to confront him only made it worse– made him try twice as hard before he eventually collapsed. The knock on our door was inevitable; there was nothing he could do to stop that day from happening, no one has ever been quite as strong as you. ” 

You couldn’t stop yourself as tears bubbled over your eyelids. “But I–”

“None of that,” Granny Obi shushed you, stroking the side of your face as she did so. “What’s eating you so badly that you’ve gone back this many times? From what I could tell, this day has always treated you well.”

You said nothing in response, choosing instead to stare at your clasped hands. 

“C’mon, honey, you can be honest with me.” 

You inhaled deeply to soothe your nerves. “It’s because it’s been a good day. I don’t want it to end– I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and–” You cut yourself off. “I just wanted to live in the moment.”

She laughed softly, causing your cheeks to heat quickly from the embarrassment of voicing something so cheesy. “I could tell you never wanted to talk about it, but I've noticed something.” Her fingers traced over your own, the wrinkles at her lips pulling taught in a sad smile. “You’re not my Y/N, are you?”

You bit your lip as you spoke softly. “In some way, I still am.”

“Let me tell you a secret.” Shuffling towards the end of her chair, the old woman laid her arms over the side of your bed. Leaning her head down, her hand still held tightly onto your own. “When you’re ahead of the house, you become aware of just how many timelines we’ve created in our attempts to change fate.” Timelines? You’ve created... timelines? 

“Every time you try to change the outcome of your future, the temple feels it. Like blood pumping through a vein. We’re all connected.” Sighing, she sat back up to look at you. “I feel your pain. I’m so sorry you’ve had to face this alone.”

Indescribable. If you could explain to someone what you had gone through, you would, but you constantly found yourself struck still by something you couldn’t explain. It was suffocating, and it hurt to ask for help. 

“It had been jarring, to wake up one morning with the memories of your other life. The one from before.” She blinked slowly, breathing in rhythm. “At first, I had no idea what happened until finally you called up with that silly plan. Y’know, the one to save your friends? You were the only thing that had changed, and I could tell that you were working so, so hard to fix things.” Watching as your face fell, she reached out to lightly smack your cheek. 

“And you have.” She spoke the words with a genuine smile. “In the morning, I wake up to a full house. After what had happened, I swore to myself that our home would never know laughter again. Without fail, every time, Riko-chan yells at Toji to get up on time or they’ll be late to school, and the two twins rarely leave my side when I’m doing chores. The most surprising of all? Kaoru has finally found friends.” 

She gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “I can tell that you have big plans for the future, but in the meantime, take a step back. You don’t need to push yourself to meet them, they’ll come at their own pace. You need to remember that you're only human and you’re allowed to live in the moment, no one is stopping you but yourself.”

You open and close your mouth, struggling to get anything past your choked out sobs. “I’ve been trying – I’ll be having a good day and everything is going well– then it all falls downhill and nothing is the same anymore; there are people that I love that aren’t who I remember and I just miss them so much–” 

Your granny gave you an encouraging smile, wiping away tears of her own. “What I want you to remember is that I love who you were , who you are , and who you’re meant to be. Time is capable of changing a lot of things, but it doesn’t doesn’t change love . Only your heart can control that.”

Your lungs protested as you sat yourself up to pull her into a hug, your arms holding fast to her frail frame as you sobbed into her shoulder. “Granny… I’m so tired–”

She brought a hand up to run her fingers through the back of your hair, swaying you both from side to side to calm you down. “I know, honey. How about we take this day to relax? Your friends can see you tomorrow– you need to spend this time getting better and focusing on yourself.”

You pulled back as your mouth twisted into a frown. “But–”

“No ‘but’s, what you’ve done is reckless.” You couldn’t disagree with her there. “You could’ve very well set your health back those two months at this rate.” She scolded you, wagging a finger in your face as she did so. “Now, I want you to take it easy and rest. Everything is going to work out– I promise.”

Your eyes searched hers for a moment before you relented, laying yourself down into your bed and getting comfortable. “Ok, Granny.”

She stood and leaned over you to kiss you on the forehead. “Good girl. Now, I better go make sure that Toji isn’t letting the kids get into any trouble– you know how he can be.” She chuckled. 

As she reached the door, you called out to her. “Hey, Granny?”

She turned back and waited for you to speak. 

“I love you.”

Nodding, a small laugh escaped her. “I love you, too.” 

The following days seemed to blur by, and with Granny’s advice coursing through your brain– you rested. To her request, you asked the nurses to refuse any visitors under your name. You had to recover, and that meant zero distractions. 

How you were planning on doing that relied on your ability. Based on the discovery you made about Shoko’s own RCT, you came to the conclusion that Pendulum Negative could potentially heal your injuries– most importantly your lung. 

To say you were desperate was an understatement. You were fully intending on getting out of here tomorrow. 

Pendulum Negative had proven to be temperamental, and with a lack of control? It was practically life threatening. Thinking back to your training with Nanami and Haibara, you recalled the time you tried to focus your energy through an object to get to a person– the object being the ground. It had proven to be fruitless– as in that fight, you had failed to reach your target. That was still something you were unsure was possible, but nonetheless, proved important to keep in mind.

Restrictions and limits were something you had yet to explore heavily in your past life. Convinced you had reached your utmost potential, you only had used your ability to primarily set time back in smaller increments, and occasionally used it to erase someone. You would have no idea you were capable of such big leaps in time, much less being able to change the course of your entire life.

One thing you did know? 

Time travel was fucking exhausting. 

With your injuries, it would require an urgent amount of concentration. You’d have to pray– and pray hard– that you wouldn’t just ‘blip’ yourself out of existence. That would be an awkward conversation you wouldn’t even be able to have.

Speaking of awkward conversations; You had tried to forget about the outburst you had on the phone with Gojo. 

Key word? Tried. 

The feeling that had taken over you was something foreign, and to be honest with yourself? It scared you. To the outside world, you must’ve seemed like an impulsive person for going after a special grade cursed object with no prior objective. But the voicemail? That was an action you couldn’t stop yourself from making. You couldn’t control yourself. Everything you had said to Gojo was true, but you knew in your heart this was something you had to face alone. Granny’s advice had helped, but you knew better than to trouble her again. She had already seen your failed attempts, and you were lucky enough she wasn’t upset with you.

Sitting up, you found yourself lost in a staring contest with the wall. It did the only thing it could, and stared back. Inanimate objects were proving to be greater friends than most would think. 

You pulled the covers off of you, sucking in a breath as the tube connected to your iv snagged on the blanket. With teeth clenched, you reached over to your side. The scarring, a gift from the spearhead your brother had launched at you, was severe. From what they said, you were lucky it only grazed your major organs, due to your head trauma being enough to kill you alone. 

From what your report had said, your main concerns lied with the injuries on your side and abdomen. Your lung was still healing, and the scar tissue on your stomach had yet to fully heal over. As for your head trauma, thanks to Shoko’s RCT and the medical staff– it had gone down exponentially after the two months you’d been admitted. 

You bared your teeth, hands grabbing at the bandages that graced your side. With a swift motion– ripping the bandaid off in a literal sense- you dug your fingers under the bandages and pulled away from you. Your jaw tightened in an attempt to drown out any noise you made, but due to the unbearable, burning pain that shot to your brain, it proved to be futile. 

Your head hung forward as you panted, sweat lacing your forehead. You glanced down at yourself, eyes widening at the sight of the scarring along your stomach. It was nothing like Gojo’s. His wound was worse than yours, and yet it was barely noticeable, and in your opinion, beautiful. 

The thought of him turned bitter, and you ignored the seering voice in your head telling you to stop.

You placed your palm to your side, and with a swift decision, you closed your eyes. Activating your ability, you imagined your wound. The key to isolating an object was imagining it down to its smallest state. The skin cells creating the scar tissue were ultimately your goal.

If you had to explain the headspace to someone, you could do it in one word. Empty. An empty, black space that only reverberated at the sound of your heart. It was comparable to that of a clock, and you found yourself wondering if your Granny heard it too. This was something unfamiliar to you, as you had never taken the time to revel in the silence. When you always used your ability, you carried a sense of urgency. This, however, required intense concentration. 

You felt the skin beneath you tingle, almost as if your hands were producing an overwhelming warmth. It began to burn, and soon enough you watched as your stomach morphed under your touch. Your skin pulled apart, and you began to scream, ripping your hand away to clasp over your own mouth. Your mind was torn from its thoughts, and you nearly doubled over from the pain.

Crying, your mouth shook as you released a shrill sob into your palm. Is this what it felt like when you used this on other people? Were you tearing them apart? You were bleeding profusely onto your bed now, as the wound was now open. You had rewinded back, that much was evident, but it was as if Ichiro had just stabbed you.

With as much strength as you could muster, you brought your hand back to your side. Thick red coated your fingers, and through the pain you activated your ability. The blood, now flooding underneath your nails, seemed to pull away. Time was slipping through your fingers, and as you glanced down, you noticed that your wound had completely disappeared. 

You still had your lung to go, and that process is what scared you the most.

“Do I really need to be in a wheelchair for this? I can walk just fine with PT–” You complained, a part of you embarrassed that you had to be pushed around. 

“It’s just until we get you to your car, after that you’re free to do whatever you like.” The aide assured you, pushing the elevator button to go to the ground level. 

Toji and Granny Obi were the only ones to come pick you up from the hospital, given everyone else was either at school or work, so the send off was rather lackluster. The only thing you were excited for at this point is a hot shower and your bed. Hospital life just wasn’t for you, if one more person came in the middle of the night to wake you up, you’d probably become feral. 

The original plan was to send you home, but you refused to miss any more school. At the rate you were going, you would have been graduating alongside Nanami and Haibara– a setback you weren’t sure you could ever recover from. 

You saw the twins first. 

Well, more like heard them as they screamed out your name. You could tell that Granny was having a difficult time holding the two of them back, each of her hands holding onto theirs as they attempted to pull away and run to you. To her left stood a rather bored Toji, spinning the keys to his van in one hand. You shuddered to yourself at the thought of being subjected to his terrible driving, however short the drive may be. 

On one hand, you were going to be free from the clutches of an IV in your arm 24/7, and on the other, you could very well end up back here with a whole new list of injuries. 

The aide pushing your chair slowed to a stop at the sight, clearing her throat as she leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Would they happen to be your ride?”

You suppressed a laugh at her concerned expression. “Yeah, it’s all good.” You patted her hand as you moved to stand up and walk the rest of the way. It felt good to stretch your legs. “Thank you guys for all your help!”

She was still stunned as she processed your words, waving her hand as she muttered a soft ‘goodbye’ and briskly walked away with the empty wheelchair in front of her. 

Granny Obi held her arms out to you in a welcoming gesture and you closed the distance to hug her tightly, the twins joining in. You pulled away to give Toji a nod in acknowledgement, which he returned with a smirk as he took your belongings and threw them in the back of the vehicle. “I’m not driving any slower for you.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t expect you to.” 

The drive to your dormitory was relatively quiet, aside from the occasional ice breaker or update on the kids. Apparently Toji had convinced Granny Obi that it was imperative that they invest in internet access and cable, something that you strongly agreed with. Keeping 5 kids and a teenager entertained was easier said than done and the only books entailed the history of your clan(which, according to Nanako, did not have nearly enough illustrations). 

You checked the time clock on the dashboard, nervously playing with the fabric of your pants. At this rate you would probably get back to the dormitory at the same time as… You crinkled your nose at the thought, not quite ready to face them.

Nanako seemed to notice your discomfort, and reassuringly grabbed ahold of your hand. Giving it a tight squeeze, she looked at you with a harsh glare. “Don’t worry big sister, I’ll protect you from those men. I’ll bite their ankles if I have to. Daddy Toji told me it’s a good idea to go where they’re weakest.” 

The twins did such a good job of distracting you that you didn’t realize the van had pulled into the dormitory parking lot until Toji was throwing it into park. Granny offered on his behalf to carry your belongings into your room but you only waved her off. One awkward yet tearful goodbye later, you were hauling ass to get yourself and duffle bag into the safety of your room. For a moment you thought that the coast was clear, until you heard the faint sounds of conversation and the trademark laughter you dreaded. 

You felt the exertion in your abdomen as you rushed into the building and down the hall, fingers fumbling with the keys to your room. Pushing the memory of the last time you were in this situation to the back of your mind, you were able to turn the lock and slam the door behind you all in one breath. 

It wasn’t that you necessarily wanted to avoid them for the rest of your school life. You knew the conversation would be inevitable– just not today. Or this week, even.

You had to focus on yourself for the time being, and boys were just boys. Not a necessity and certainly not a priority. 

You threw your bag down on the floor beside your desk with a groan. Your room had the distinct musty smell after being abandoned for such a long time, so you went to the window to try and open it, but to no avail, it stayed shut. You made a face and attempted once more to push it up only to strain yourself into a coughing fit. “What the fuck?”

Upon closer inspection, you counted 5-6 individual nails in the bottom of the frame, securing the window into place. 

Who the hell would nail your window shut?

A walk around the city was not nearly as distracting as Gojo needed it to be. As he was walking he caught sight of a candy shop and left with half of their selection, pulling out a lollipop to suck on as he walked. 

After returning to the dorms after class, he found you safe and sound, giving the same silent treatment back to them. He felt as if something heavy had settled in his gut. 

A faint buzz came from his pocket, startling him from his thoughts. Pulling out his phone his stomach dropped at the sight of Granny Obi’s name. He paused in his steps to watch the call go to voicemail instead of answering. 

He waited for a beat before opening his voicemail box, hesitantly hovering his finger over the message until something caught his eye. Just below Granny Obi’s contact name, ‘Dust Collector’, was yours. 

As if that wasn’t confusing enough, there was no indication next to the message that it had yet to be opened, meaning that he had to have already listened to it some time ago. He checked the date and noted that it had already been a couple of weeks since being sent, yet he had no recollection of listening to it. 

Without meaning to, his finger slipped and pressed on the unopened message from your grandmother, immediately greeted by her yelling.

“You’ve got some nerve picking a fight with my granddaughter!” Her voice was sharp and shrill, the type of sound that would be comparable to a cat’s nails on a chalkboard. “As long as I'm alive, I don't want you anywhere near our home, I’ll beat you myself-”

The phone was dragged away from her with little protest,  and a gruff voice cleared itself into the speaker. “I’ll kill you both.” It was not laced with a single hint of amusement. He was serious, and Satoru was as good as dead. “Gojo, my eyes have been on yours for a while. I wonder how much people’ll pay for a pair.” He laughed into the phone, before letting out a sigh. “And Geto? He touches her again and I’ll make him wish he was born a fucking monkey.”

For a moment, he was so dumbfounded that the lollipop in his mouth fell out, landing on the pavement below. 

With that bandaid already ripped off, his eyes slid down to your message, his hand bringing the phone up to his ear of his own accord. 

What he expected to hear was a mix of unbridled sobs, maybe a message of you screaming at him to come back- or even the exact opposite. What he didn’t expect though, was the warped sound of your voice as it came out in a garbled mess. He couldn’t make sense of it, and he found himself confused. Why would you send this to him? Was it to poke fun? And why hadn't he remembered opening it up?

“Enim em tsoc ti gniwonk ,efil rouy yojne gnikcuf uoy epoh I.” As the voicemail ended, Gojo found himself affronted. For once, he wasn’t sure what to do.

What were you trying to tell him?

Chapter Text

Naoya just managed to close his eyes before falling face first into the dirt.

His mouth, however, wasn’t as fortunate. 

For some reason, he thought it was a good idea to talk shit about a certain upperclassman to the second years during training. Gritting his teeth together, he tried to ignore the feeling of dirt cracking under his molars. He wouldn’t have expected Haibara Yu of all people to react with violence, but he was proven wrong. Taking a punch of that caliber to the face was no small feat, and was only able to stay conscious due to his strength. 

The next time he opened them, he was hoisted up into the air by a firm hand on his collar. Try as he might, he knew deep down he was no match for the two sets of eyes peering down at him. 

“You want to run that by us again?” Nanami was the one to talk, standing behind Haibara as the brunette held Naoya in place.

“Don’t you ever say such things about Y/N-Senpai–” Yu’s face was red, almost as if his anger had taken control of his entire body. Naoya didn’t know whether to be impressed, or insulted that a man’s prowess could be so wavered by the thought of a woman. Much less someone like you. 

Naoya bared his teeth, shielding the two from whatever sly comment threatened to spill from his lips. It was clear Haibara’s attachment to you strayed the lines of normalcy, and if Naoya was in a position that wasn’t at the mercy of someone else, he would’ve gone out of his way to mention it. 

“Got. It.” He muttered, gravity tugging down at his body as he collided with the ground. 

Nanami scoffed, hair moving out of his face before he went over to his things. “Two days from now. The same time. We’ll be using techniques. Don’t be late.” 

“Or what?” Naoya was quick to stand, dusting his pants off with disdain written all over his face. 

“We just won’t bother to train you, is all.” Haibara, as if his personality had done a 180, was back to all smiles. “We picked up this tradition of helping underclassmen from Y/N-Senpai. If you don’t want the help, we could be less than bothered to help you, Zenin.”

“You’ve grown teeth, Haibara.” Naoya huffed, eyes looking the boy up and down. 

“Awe, you think so?” Laughing, Haibara’s eyes tightened together as he smiled. “Let’s hope I never have to use them!”

Nanami, sensing this conversation was more than over, clicked his tongue as he exited the field. Haibara cheerfully said his goodbyes, before turning to follow after his friend.

Naoya Zenin was irritated. Coming from a family whose reputation precedes them as, in quote; “the best of the best”, he found himself struggling to understand what events had just taken place.

In normal Naoya fashion, he had let a few comments slip about two of the third years. The heir of the Gojo Clan and his nobody boyfriend had been under constant attack on campus. After Y/N’s prolonged absence from campus settled, Nanami and Haibara did little to hide their obvious dislike for the two boys. Influenced or not, Naoya had a few shared opinions he felt like mentioning. 

Your ‘incident’ had been the topic of interest for sometime now, and this only served to loosen his tongue. Zenin Clan or not, he was still a highschool student. He lived, ate, and breathed drama. 

If it was any consolation, he didn’t truly know you, but your past was no secret among the three clans. The Obinata name would forever be a curse in the jujutsu world, and you happened to wield it like a blessing.

And most of all: you’re a woman.  

If there was anything Naoya hated more than a sorcerer who didn’t know his place, it was a woman in the same position. His attitude towards women had soured after the disappointments that were his cousins, Mai and Maki Zenin, and it didn’t stop at family affairs.

With his blatant sexist comments, it was clear he had struck a nerve in Haibara Yu, his sunshine-faced upperclassmen. You had just arrived back on campus, and after two months of being gone, Jujutsu Tech seemed excited to have you back. What was so special about you?

“Zenin!” A voice rang out from behind him, and Naoya suddenly remembered that he wasn’t alone. Scoffing to himself, he looked over his shoulder to see his classmate, Kiyotaka Ijichi running up to him from the bleachers. 

Ijichi was nothing close to what Naoya deemed worthy. He was weak and indecisive, and to Naoya’s standards? He took too long to get dressed in the mornings before class. 

“Oi, what is it?” His snark was quick to return to him, lip pulled up into a snarl. “Can’t you see I'm busy?”

“Busy covering yourself in dirt?” For once, Naoya almost snorted at that. Almost. “Training is over, we need to talk about our part of the mission for tomorrow.”

Ah, that was right. Normally, Naoya would’ve been at home planning defensive measures with the Hei– a consecutive sorcerer branch under his family’s name. But with the recent interest in the Obinata name, and a rise in curse users, the Zenin family had other ideas for him.

He would’ve been completely against the idea, had it been a complete waste of time. Naoya didn’t believe in the connections people deemed as ‘friendship’, but what he did understand was how to find people you could use.

Ijichi was someone he could use. In fact, he planned to, wholeheartedly.

“Ah, that’s tomorrow?” As he feigned ignorance, it was clear through his sardonic tone that he was more than just aware. “Okay, I'm sure you’ve been researching. Talk.”

In true Ijichi fashion, he did more than just talk. Going in depth, Naoya was staring off into space as the two of them headed back to their dorms. He would’ve been interested, had it not been for the fact he had done the research for himself. Douchebag or not, he was not a fan of anyone else doing his work for him. Not like Gojo.

If there was anything in the world Naoya hated more than women who didn’t know their place, it was Satoru Gojo.  

As the two of them walked into the dorm building, Ijichi continued to talk about the mission at hand. Tomorrow, both of the first years would be accompanying the second years on an assignment.  Naoya was paying him no mind, and in fact, found himself staring at your door. Before, he hadn’t spared a second to look at it, but he would be lying if he didn’t admit the curiosity eating away at his gut. 

“Are you even listening? Naoya–?”

“Zenin is fine.” He was quick to cut him off, stuffing his hands in his pocket as they walked to the freshman wing of the dorms. “I already know everything you’re saying. I just wanted you to feel like you were doing something important so I could remind you that you aren’t.”

Ijichi was taken aback, and only narrowed his eyes in response. Naoya was a difficult person to please, and eventually, you get to the point where you stop trying. 

With a curt goodbye, Naoya’s door shut hard behind him.

Gojo had spent hours trying to decipher this voicemail, sitting in the corner of the school's library with his headphones connected to the computer. His eyes were bloodshot with exhaustion, having worked through the night into the morning. He had a few texts from Geto that he had yet to respond to, but he wanted to wait until he was sure that he had finally found a solution to your message.

Originally, Satoru had thought to sound out your words by himself. If he was being completely honest– and definitely not influenced by his incredible sense of self obsession– he thought himself capable of understanding your words backwards. Turns out, being the strongest didn’t make you the best at everything. 

So now, he was sitting at one of the computers supplied by the library. While he preferred to perform investigations in the comfort of his room, he didn’t want to take the risk of Geto finding out. As much as he hated to admit it, something in him was pleased to know that you had taken the time to send him a voicemail, and no one else. 

So far he had gotten to the point where he had transferred the audio from his phone onto the computer, and burned it onto a cd. Gojo never thought himself to be a tech savvy person, but he was once again impressed with himself. Now, all he had to do was wait for the CD to finish, and for him to input it into the computer’s disc compartment. 

He liked this game you were playing.  

Tapping his fingers subconsciously against the desk, he found himself looking up at nothing in particular. He had a habit of counting the tiles above him, or the light fixtures on the ceiling, and he had already utilized this twice in his time here. 

At the thought of you, the air seemed to thicken around Satoru, crackling with unresolved tension. His pulse quickened, and he pushed his chair farther back from his desk. 

He watched you from afar when you came back to the dorms. Saying it in his head made it sound creepier, and he nearly chastised himself for the moment of weakness. He noticed the subtle changes– the way your hair had grown, the exhaustion etched around your eyes. It’s as if you had become a totally different person in your absence, and no one noticed it but him. 

His chest ached in an unfamiliar way, and he tried to dissect your expressions to see if you felt the same way. Did you remember the kiss? Did you remember how mortified he looked when he realized what he had done? Did you watch as he ran away?

Or did you just not care? 

It sounded horrible, but he hoped you did. 

Obsession coiled around his thoughts, relentless and unyielding. He could track your movements, decode the cryptic messages you left, analyze your friendships– but nothing would fix the empty feeling in his gut. It seemed with every moment the rift in your relationship widened, and he loathed to part with his pride so that he could reach out to you. Words unsaid and apologies swallowed, he stumbled over his thoughts, and the fall of your relationship was becoming inevitable.

The world, once blurred, cleared around him at the sound of the computer beeping. He lurched forward out of his chair, grasping the disc that retreated out of the compartment. He was quick to slide his pointer finger through the hole, and grasp the edge with his thumb. It was hot, but he didn’t waste a second to bother blowing it off. 

He nearly ripped the CD holder out of the wall as he opened it, and he was just as quick to slide the disc inside. Snapping it shut, he clicked around the computer as pop-ups appeared along the desktop. Soon enough, a sliding audio bar appeared, and he sucked in a breath.

Clicking play, he sunk back down into his chair, waiting with bated breath to listen for your words. 

“Are we all here?” It was bright and early that next morning, and Naoya found himself growing more irritated by the second as Haibara’s cheerful tone echoed across the courtyard. 

“It would appear so.” Ijichi, ever the suck up, answered immediately. 

Naoya opened himself to make a comment on such a ‘stupid’ question, but locked his jaw instead. It was too early to pick fights, even for him. 

Nanami had his arms crossed, bag thrown over his shoulder as he seemed to stare Naoya down. It was no surprise to anyone that people were uneasy around the Zenin Clan’s future head, but some people– like Nanami– were open about their dislike for him. It didn’t seem to deter Naoya though, in fact, it seemed to fuel his ego even more.

Afterall, he wasn’t here to make friends.

Haibara clapped his hands once as he surveyed the crowd. “Ok! The mission that we were given involves a low grade curses just so you guys can get an understanding on how to work as a team and what it’s like working in the field. You may think that you can take this on by yourself,” he paused as he gave Naoya a meaningful look, earning him an eye roll and a scoff. “But it can be crucial for someone to have your back; you never know when you’ll be attacked with your guard down.”

Ijichi was the only one that gave him any form of response, both Nanami and Naoya locked in a silent staring contest. Haibara cleared his throat to try to break the tension before continuing. “We’re going to be investigating this public park after dark to avoid the crowd. It should be relatively easy given that everyone stays in line.”

“That should be easy enough for you to do, Haibara- senpai ,” Naoya snarked. “Afterall, you’re always so eager to suck up to your superiors for some extra brownie points.”

A red blush formed on his elders cheeks as he quickly turned around to begin walking into the park, ignoring him completely. “In the meantime, we should do some recon on the area–”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Naoya grabbed Ijichi’s arms and strode into the park ahead of the rest of the group. “Let’s go, Ijichi. Make sure to watch my back so you can learn from the best.”

Meters behind them now Nanami turned to his friend and rolled his eyes, to which Haibara only laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, he’s a bit of a jerk."

“I think you’re being generous, the kid’s a complete bitch.” Nanami continued past him. “We better make sure they don’t cause any more chaos than what’s already here.”

A few paces ahead, Naoya and Ijichi were making a very poor attempt at small talk– well, Ijichi was, Naoya was waiting for him to shut up. He bit at his nails as he surveyed the park, ignoring the idiotic children and frail elderly that mozied around them, looking intently for any sign of curses. 

Just as Haibara had said in the debrief, the place was full of low grades, to the point that it was even laughable. Seriously? Were they doubting the Naoya Zenin, next in line to be the clan head? How utterly disrespectful . 

Ijichi paused as a path into the woods caught his eye. “I think that if we go down that way we should run into a large cluster, the energy seems to get worse the closer we get to the heart of the forest.”

Naoya sucked his teeth as he gave Ijichi a fake smile, pushing him through the line of trees. “After you, then.”

Looking back, he found that they had effectively lost their upperclassmen, and to be honest– he was overjoyed with that knowledge. Haibara and Nanami proved to be nothing but a thorn in his side. And with his recent insult to injury regarding your condition? Naoya had made himself an enemy in their eyes as well. 

The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over dense, twisted trees. The air was thick with an unnatural chill, and the silence was broken by the occasional rustle of leaves and distant, unidentifiable whispers. The ground was uneven, covered in a carpet of decaying leaves and gnarled roots that seemed to reach out just to trip them. 

Ijichi pushed forward, clearing his throat as he stepped over a log. During his research, he had failed to account for the fact that this park would be scarier at night. He would never admit it, but he wasn’t a big fan of the dark.

Naoya on the other hand seemed to be unbothered by their surroundings, and instead took it upon himself to walk at a leisurely pace behind Ijichi. Exactly what they were looking for was unclear, considering they had only been face to face with lower level curses so far. As insulting as it was, Naoya kept his feelings to himself. 

It didn’t take long until they came to a small clearing in the woods, the Hei leader having taken the lead in Ijichi’s exhaustion. They spoke little to each other, sharing small looks as cursed energy settled around them. The earthy smell had become still, and a thin fog rested over the field. 

“Ijichi–” Naoya started to open his mouth, but he found his words falling short at the sight of his partner no longer at his side. He turned around, jaw tightening as he examined the area around him. Ijichi was gone, and the fog was growing thicker with every second.   “Don’t tell me you’ve gone off and ran away, hah?” Where confidence should’ve been evident in his words, his tone remained stagnant.

Pushing forward, the fog warped around his body. Naoya found himself second questioning the shadows he saw in his peripheral vision, but as he continued to walk, he found that a figure stood not far up ahead. 

“Kiyotaka.” Naoya scoffed, opting to pause his advancement through the haze. 

There was no response. Something didn’t feel right. 

Naoya’s silence followed, and with a split-second decision, he found himself conjuring his technique. Before he could get anywhere, the silhouette in front of him raced forward. His eyes widened, and with as much force as he could garner, he tried to put space between them. 

Having a technique passed down from his father, Naobito Zenin, Naoya prided himself on his speed. Projection Sorcery, if cultivated correctly– like in Naoya’s case– proved itself to be a very threatening force on the battlefield. All her had to do was avoid getting hit–

All thoughts were knocked from his mind as a solid, metal object made contact with his neck. With a sharp grunt, Naoya was sent tumbling across the ground. His skin was burning, his black kimono ripped at the edges as he forced himself to stand.

He moved to look up with wide eyes as a kick sailed right past his face, hair brushing against his cheek. 

“Ran away, huh?” Who stood before him was someone who made his stomach drop. “Isn’t that what you’re doing right now?”

Naoya would never admit to being familiar with fear. As a young child, things like failure and weakness were drilled into his brain as a non-negotiable. Everyday he awoke with the same goal in mind. To win. To a Zenin, life was more than cheap victory and flimsy relationships. If you couldn’t win on your own, you couldn’t win at all. 

Naoya would argue that the thing that scared him the most was just that; failure. When born into a family of such prestige, you can’t help but accept the fact that your existence was meant to be perfect. You had a destiny crafted before you were born, and your only real mission in life was to follow it. 

But Naoya didn’t just fear failure. The youngest son of Naobito feared someone more. The albatross of the Zenin family name, renowned for his catastrophic failure, and in response, overcoming it in spite. 

Toji Zenin. 

Naoya found his jaw slack, and with a heavy breath he looked him over. It had been quite some time since had last crossed paths with his cousin, but his foul sneer and incredulous strength still remained. His lack of cursed technique was compensated greatly for his physical attacks, and from what information that the Hei had gathered for Naoya, he had made quite the name for himself as an assassin. But something about this wasn’t right. It didn’t make any sense. 

Where had that pissant Ijichi gone? What was someone like Toji Zenin doing here?

In the midst of his thoughts, Toji moved into a crouch in front of him, his gait predatory. He could see the tension building in his muscular frame as he readied to attack Naoya once more, causing the latter to spring into action. 

Relying on instinct alone, he took a clump of dirt into his hand and flung it into Toji’s eyes, using the distraction to get to his feet and look for an out.  The area around him seemed warped in a way, almost as if someone had thrown up a veil. He tried to recount the last few steps that had brought him to this point but came up with nothing. 

Dodging to the left, he flung out a fist and caught Toji in the side. Feeling a foreign substance coating his fingers, he quickly recoiled as his hand was covered with a slimy residue.

What the fuck?

In a daze, he looked up and closely observed his opponent, but found it impossible to clearly distinguish the man's features. It was like his mouth and nose were constantly swaying with his movements, his eyelids oscillating in the attempt to blink. 

This was the work of a curse. One that took the form of your worst fears. 

God, what a relief. If this had been the real Toji he’d more than likely be knocked– Naoya shook his head. The hell was he saying? He’s the future head of the clan; he would be triumphant in a fight against that old man! 

Naoya grinned as he cracked his knuckles and infused them with his curse energy as a temporary weapon. “You’ve got the wrong idea if you think that monkey is the strongest Zenin– let me show you how it’s done!”

With renewed vigor he lunged toward the curse only to be coated head to toe in slime as it essentially imploded in front of him. Disgusted, he spat out what little had managed to get in his mouth, retching at the taste. He could feel the veil drop around him and looked up to see Nanami Kento and a cowering Ijichi a few paces ahead. 

Ijichi moved towards him, seemingly searching his pockets for a handkerchief but the goodwill was quickly slapped out of his hands. “Zenin-san, I threw up the barrier as soon as I saw, uh, the curse, and ran to get help. I figured you could take him on your own in the meantime.”

Naoya shook, so enraged but unable to tell the fool off as he would have told him to do the same thing. So, instead of throwing the blame on Ijichi, he turned instead to Nanami. “I could have handled it.”

Nanami raised an eyebrow, looking the teen in front of him up and down, his eyes purposely catching on the tears in his kimono and the marks of dirt. “Oh, I’m sure you could have. But we have a resolution to help out our lower classmen.”

The soon to be head of the Zenin clan bit the inside of his cheek, ignoring the metallic taste of blood that flooded his mouth as he stormed past the two. 

Gojo’s head felt heavy on his shoulders as your voice flooded his ear; the words you had said, a continuous mantra replaying in his head as he stumbled down the hall in the dormitory. As soon as the tape had finished playing, his feet raced him out of the library to get to Geto, to show him this piece of shit and ask if he heard the same thing. 

Even though he felt he was in a daze, he was still Gojo Satoru, so there were little things in this world that could surprise him– regardless, he couldn’t stop himself from jumping when he heard your voice. 

“Gojo?” 

He was quiet for a moment as he studied your face, looking for something that could prove what he heard, yet he came up with nothing. Either he had gone crazy or you were one hell of an actress. Despite the list of things he wanted to say, all he could manage was: “I just want to see Suguru.” 

Gojo could tell that you weren’t convinced, that there was something else sitting on your tongue that he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear. He was able to pinpoint the exact time that you decided to say nothing at all and he realized with a heavy heart that it was the worst option of all. Instead, you turned away from him, quickly striding down the hall to your room and he winced as you slammed the door behind you. 

He waited for a beat, taking a deep breath to recollect his thoughts and made his way to Geto’s door, only knocking once and pushing his way into his boyfriend’s room. He thrusted the cd player into Geto’s hands, ignoring the confused look he got in response. 

“You need to listen to that.”

Chapter Text

Embarrassment burned through your face as you slammed the door behind you, blinking back tears that were welling in your eyes. Why had Gojo looked at you like that? You had never seen that expression on his face, almost as if he had just seen a ghost. 

The Gojo Satoru, who fought the paranormal daily and would laugh through horror movies like they were comedies. You would laugh at the irony if it wasn’t directed at you. Did he have a similar expression when he carried you down the stairs two months ago? 

You weren’t expecting everything to go back to normal from the get-go with the loss of the two men who knew you best. Those days where they would walk with you to class, bickering with Shoko about who would get to stand by their side (they always won in the end; it was impossible to get a word in edgewise). 

Normalcy was a unique word in your line of work but you still yearned for it. Now, you lived day to day avoiding their gaze, though you had the feeling that they weren’t looking your way at all. 

Tension filled the hallways, and while your other friends still greeted you with excitement and warm welcomes, to them you were just a regret. 

It hurt to know that even though you had done your best to prevent these bad events from happening, people would never know what you had sacrificed to get them here in the first place. When you had sent that voicemail back in the hospital, a part of you wished you hadn’t gone back to erase it. 

Part of you wanted everyone to know what you had done for them. Not for the sake of gaining gratitude or respect, but to convince them you weren’t crazy for the stunt you had pulled. Everything you did had a purpose, and it could all come down to if you wanted it to. 

At the time you were overwhelmed by how lonely this responsibility had become, if the news would forever change the trajectory of your relationship. You were grateful for Granny Obi stepping in and stopping you from continuing that cycle of madness. 

It lifted a weight from your shoulders to know there was at least one other person who knew what you were going through. 

Collapsing on your bed, you found yourself fumbling with the hem of your sheets. Haibara had mentioned washing your bedding for you, and with the help of Shoko, they managed to clean your room. But upon closer inspection, it seemed someone else had gone through your room and made quite the mess of it. (Your guess was the white haired asshole who lived down the hall, but no one would confirm your suspicions.) 

Hours passed as you stared despondent at your ceiling, not having the energy to lift your legs to take your shoes off. You turned your head to the side with great effort to stare out the window. The sun had reached its highest point in the sky and yet, the weather hadn’t gotten warmer. Fall was almost at an end, and the absence of cicadas outside only made that reality settle in. 

You had missed all of summer in the hospital. 

You could hardly remember the summers you lived before. It wasn’t something you would think about in the moment, making memories of mundane things that an immature teenager would do. If nothing had happened, would you be out with Shoko and the girls at the movies, catching whatever trending cheesy flick was on the screens?

From what you can remember, as a highschool student, your life wasn’t nearly this hectic. You preferred to keep yourself out of trouble, sticking to the books and playing it safe. Ironic or not, the very definition of “trouble” started with an S, and ended with Gojo. 

Even now, it seemed Satoru consumed every waking moment of your life. As horrible as it sounded, you weren’t sure which Gojo you were even mourning. Though the Satoru of your past had his childish demeanor, he never let it get too out of hand in your relationship. 

He was someone who had grown and learned of loss, and at the cost of his arrogance, he had truly learned what it meant to love. You knew he loved you.

This Gojo was so much different. There was a reason you two never got along in highschool, and while this life proved to have a different outcome of your relationship, even now you struggled to know what he felt about you. Something in you wanted to preserve this version of him. Innocence and arrogance walked a thin line, and though most times you wanted to cut it loose, it hurt you to watch him suffer. No one deserved to live the life he had.

You curled onto your side, tucking your head into your arms as Ichiro’s words echoed in your mind, and bringing you back to reality. 

While you had come here to take care of your friends and their futures, you had completely neglected your own. 

“You motherfucker–” The CD player cracked to life, the noise almost muffled by Satoru’s heavy breathing. Your voice made him flinch, and he found himself at a loss for words. He had never heard you so angry. “You blocked me? Me? After everything I’ve done for you?” 

Gojo had no idea what you were talking about. He hadn’t blocked you. He didn’t even remember you calling.

Suguru was motionless on his bed, eyes tracking Satoru’s movement as he paced around his room. He didn’t know what to say, nor what to think. He had no idea where this was headed. When his boyfriend came into his room with an uncharacteristic level of urgency, he had braced himself for the worst; waiting for something along the lines of “the school is on fire and Yaga is dead”. 

What he wasn’t expecting was for his stereo to be commandeered by what seemed to be a homemade CD with your name messily written across the top in red Sharpe. 

You had been a sore subject for the two of them after the attack. Neither had gone to the lengths to process the trauma that they received from that night, nor would they ever consider doing so. You haunted their relationship in ways they couldn’t properly describe. Like an idiot, he had failed to account for the fact that leaving also would hurt you. The conversation that he had with Yuki turned him into a coward and he couldn’t bring himself to visit you in those months. Suguru knew this was unfair, yet what he found himself regretting the most was giving you no explanation as to why he never came to visit, choosing to bother Satoru for updates on your condition. 

“Satoru Gojo, you’re a fucking dick, you know that? Do you understand just what I've sacrificed so you get to live your perfect, bullshit fantasy? So that you get to be the strongest?” 

Suguru glanced over at Satoru, and he watched as the color drained from the older boy’s cheeks, his eyes dimming in response to what you said. Even if Gojo had already heard this voicemail once before, he could tell that it would fester in his head, forever a fresh wound. 

Satoru was too prideful to admit how many times that he played the audio back. He tried his best to understand what the hell you were saying back in the library but each time the words grew heavier and heavier on his shoulders. 

 “You’re the greatest disappointment I’ve ever fucking met.” Gojo bit the inside of his mouth, and once more, he was reminded about how much he disliked the color red as the taste of metal swam around his tongue. 

“You died.” Suguru threw him a look. One that read beyond the border of confusion. “Yeah. You. You can do that.” Your voice was uncharacteristically sardonic, rid of any ounce of affability. 

Satoru felt a foreign feeling conjuring in his gut, and for once, he thought he was going to be sick. Were you lying? Were you just trying to get under his skin? According to the date of the call, it was rational to take into account that your words could be influenced by the opioids you took in recovery. Maybe you had just lost it all together. He wouldn’t blame you.

“Sukuna killed everyone by the way. And your boyfriend? Fuck him too.” 

Satoru was already reaching to pause the audio but his hand was abruptly slapped away. Geto  wanted to hear what you had to say about him, regardless of whether it was good or bad. He could take it. Suguru knew that giving you the cold shoulder was enough to warrant this reaction. 

“Suguru wasn’t even supposed to be alive. He fucking defected back in highschool, and I came back all this way to save him from it– and you have the fucking nerve to block me? To send me to voicemail?”

Now, this he did not account for. His emotional state was warring with his rationality on how to interpret those words. The two words that stuck out to him and kept him from devolving completely were ‘save him’. But it didn’t make him feel any less of a fool for how he felt about you. Was your whole relationship a result of you wanting to fix the timeline or did you really care about him? 

Suguru’s face grew pallid as he ran through the events of the past year. Back at the village when he felt total destruction was the only answer, was the speech you gave him premeditated? Or did you really mean the words you said, that impacted him so much that he was able to refocus on the task at hand. The more he thought about it he could see each time you acted out of character. Is it truly bad acting if what you were doing was pure insanity? 

In that past life, had you not been there to stop him? Geto wasn’t afraid to admit that in that moment, without your interference, he would’ve gone through with it. As to what became of him in that life, he was unsure, but he had a clear idea of who he was meant to be. 

But you weren’t who they thought you were.

“The Gojo I knew was twice the man you are, and he fucking loved me. He appreciated me– He was going to marry me. We were going to get married–” You were crying now. Broken sobs coming through the stereo, cracking every so often as the CD spinned inside. Something squeezed in Gojo’s chest, and he thought back to what you had said in the hospital.

You had called him your fiance. Had that all been true?

“We were going to get married and have the best fucking life– I was so happy.”

Amidst the tension, the two boys found themselves catching eyes. Gojo was quick to rip away, face red with embarrassment. Suguru kept his gaze on him, and chewed the inside of his cheek.

“You get to move on from your past, but I'm stuck living mine every damn day. How is that fair?! I’m so tired, Satoru– I’m so fucking tired. My brother, Kenjaku– those stupid fingers! All of this is your damn fault because I wanted to help YOU.” 

The only audible thing in the room was the echoes of your shattered, shaky breathing. 

“I hope you fucking enjoy your life, knowing it cost me my own.” 

Satoru was quick to slam his finger on the eject button, and the top of the stereo popped up. He grabbed the disc roughly, and in response it almost shattered in his hand. 

“There.” His breathing was sharp, almost erratic as he fumbled to put the disc back in its case. His hands were shaking, and with a sharp movement, Suguru grabbed hold of them.

“Are you okay?” Disregarding everything that happened, Geto held his firm gaze.

“She–” Gojo didn’t know why he was upset. He was aware that he was completely in the wrong, but for some reason, this was jarring. 

“I understand, but are you okay?”  

Gojo Satoru hated not being in control. He was learning that there was strength in knowledge and knowing that everything was out of his hands was maddening. Try as he might, you being the one with control over fate wasn’t helping. Antiquated as it is, he wanted to be the only one that you relied on, the man that you would turn to in times in need– This–

He allowed a manic laugh to slip out from his lips. The man that Satoru was jealous of wasn’t alive anymore, in the way that mattered. Your Gojo was dead, he was all you had left of him. He would take what he could get out of this situation. This just showed how much you cared about him. “Well, I’m doing just fine, how about you?”

Suguru gave him a deadpan look, scowling slightly as his brows furrowed. “When did she send that to you?”

“I had a lovely missed call from Granny Obi herself, she certainly made a good amount of promises for us, and her voicemail was just below it. I have no memory of opening it, but I probably would have blocked it out because of the mess that it was.” To prove his point he pulled out his phone and went to his voicemail box to playback the original audio. 

The black haired male made a face, before lightly pushing the phone away from his face. “So that’s what you were up all night for?”

“Do you not think it was worth it? This gives us an answer as to why she’s been acting so weird.” Gojo snickered, pocketing his phone. “Should’ve known she’d never give you the time of day, Suguru.” He was joking, but he could tell it struck a chord with him. 

“I don’t think this was all a means to an end. You give yourself too much credit.” Geto rolled his eyes, bringing a knee up to his chest. 

“Haaah? What’s that supposed to mean?” Satoru’s lips pulled back in a false facade, a tinge of irritation behind his smile. 

“She didn’t do all of this just for you.” Suguru huffed, cracking his neck as he smirked. 

“I think the voicemail speaks for itself.” His blue eyes were muddy, tide pools of unreadable emotion. 

“That you’re an asshole?” 

Gojo’s words were caught in his mouth, and he found himself narrowing his eyes. “We’re at fault for the same crime, I don’t want to hear that from you.”

“I’m mature enough to admit when I’m in the wrong. You’re struggling to, even now. I can tell.”

“So you’re scolding me too?” It was clear through Gojo’s distress, Suguru’s words were starting to get to him.

“No, i’m simply pointing out a flaw.”

Gojo laughed in disbelief, head hanging back as he sat against Geto’s headboard. “A flaw? For someone so in love with me, you sure point out things you don’t like.” 

“You’re deflecting and getting off topic. Need I remind you, this isn’t about you?” He was referencing the actual issue at hand. Your issue. 

Satoru had gone quiet, and decided against arguing further. 

“So, about Y/N.” Suguru started, moving to sit on the edge of his bed, foot toying with his slippers that sat neatly underneath the bed frame. “We know things now that we probably shouldn’t.”

“She left me a fucking voicemail, it’s obvious she wanted me to figure it out-“ Satoru’s voice came out pointed and laced with venom, but the look he received from his boyfriend was enough to silence the words in his throat. 

“Y/N would never be so crass. Let’s be reasonable?”

“You? Telling me to be reasonable? Let’s not forget, I’m not the only one who’s avoided her-“

“Yes, and I’ve professed my guilt plenty of times- Satoru, now's not the time to argue.”

“I’m not arguing-“

“We are in this situation together. I’d prefer we leave it that way, too.”

“…Even after what you heard?”

“What? That you possibly loved her in a timeline where I wasn’t there? Satoru, your happiness is something I want you to have. My jealousy will never get in the way of that.”

“And what about now?”

“You forget, I kissed her too.”

The room remained silent. There was an unspoken agreement between the two boys, and the answer lied with you. Through their anger, they couldn’t deny the gnawing fear that they could live a life without you in it. 

Back at the temple, when they had run to find you, they were faced with two realities; one where you died, and the other where things would never be the same.  

Geto Suguru would go as far as to admit that their sudden relationship came as a result of your hospitalization. Faced with the possibility of your death, Suguru made the impulsive realization that in a world as cruel as this, he never wanted to face it alone. 

As toxic as it seemed, he and Satoru didn’t question their abrupt advancement in their relationship, as nothing had really changed but the idea of a title, and the questionable attachment they both held over you. 

They knew they should, but they couldn’t let you go. 

Putting it into perspective, Geto found that he understood your situation well enough to keep his composure. If he had the ability to go back and save every single person he felt deserved it, he would. Not because he had the authority over his desired reality, but because love is truly what bound him to his morals. If anyone was going to understand your reasoning, it would be him. He only survived because you wanted him too. Back then you had shown him understanding, it was only right he did the same. 

Unlike his partner, Gojo was not as forgiving. When it came to topics like love, Satoru Gojo would swear on his life that he felt nothing akin to it. In his mind? This was purely a dirty trick you played on him to point at his ignorance. 

Had this been a ploy this entire time? Had you gone out of your way to deceive him from your timeline, to the next? Or did you mean what you said?

Satoru was a hypocrite. While he was happy to know you were in just as much mental-anguish as he was over your separation, he found that he was grinning to himself. A part of him was overjoyed you were struggling as much as he was. Suguru had tried to reason with him that he needed to show more sympathy– but did he really expect THE Satoru Gojo to care? Did he think he was capable of such emotion? 

He was born to be the strongest, and at the end of the day, that was all he was. This reaction was anything but unreasonable due to your clear disregard of his feelings. 

“You’re doing it again.” Suguru stared at him, but unlike countless times before, it was with uncertainty. 

“Doing what?” Ripping Gojo from his thoughts, the smile on his face fell.

“That face. When you're thinking too hard about something that upsets you, you make that face.”

“I'm not upset–”

“Satoru, you’re entitled to your feelings. Pretending they don't exist is only going to make them worse.” It was as if Suguru could read his mind. 

To put it plainly, Gojo Satoru believed he wasn’t human. From a young age he was told his existence was above emotion and its inconsistencies, and believed he was above anyone who let it take control of their actions. He knew that's where he and Suguru differed, and he hated how Suguru made him feel– but how you made him feel was ten times worse. 

You were incredibly impulsive and followed your heart instead of your head. You cared for others more than yourself, but in doing so, you fooled the ones who apparently mattered the most. He couldn’t understand you, and that was just unacceptable. 

“Alright then. I’m upset.” Opening his mind to the idea, he sighed in defeat. “What do I do about it?”

“I’d suggest we speak to her. Now we have a more solid understanding, and with a mature, level headed conversation maybe we can come to a conclusion–”

“If she truly wanted to speak in person, she wouldn’t have sent that voicemail. It’s clear she’s done with m– Us.” 

Suguru only sighed in defeat, sliding off the bed as he slipped into slippers that sat by his feet. “We have all the time in the world. The ball is in our court.”

“You say that as if it hasn’t been this whole time.”

Waking up to an abrupt knock at your door, you reeled forward in your bed. Nausea swam in your gut, and you swallowed hard. Your head hurt. 

You reached for your phone on the side table, fumbling gracelessly to catch it as it slid off the edge. Clattering to the floor with a mechanical thud, you groaned in response at the loss of your phone. Whoever was outside your door definitely heard it, meaning you couldn’t ignore them any longer. 

“Who is it–?” You called out, voice hoarse. 

“Oh good, she’s awake.” With nothing more for an explanation, your door was slammed into the wall with shocking force. The walls shook around you, and your eyes zeroed in on the large dent in your wall. 

Shoko stood defiantly, arms on her hips as Haibara shockingly stood with his arm outstretched. 

“Ohmygodimsosorry Y/N-Senpai, I totally didn’t think about my strength when I opened the door–” Yu was rambling, pulling his hand away as if the handle had shocked him. 

“I thought you were dead.” Shoko stared at you, before her lips pulled up into a smile. “You look like shit, so I'm still considering that possibility.”

“Wow.” Ever so elegantly put, your bored expression formed a tight line on your lips. “For someone who’s seen me so close to death, you sure know how to use your imagination.” 

“There's only so much for me to imagine now, we’ve already kissed.” Shoko smirked, before a very startled, albeit confused sound was ripped from Yu’s throat.

“Kissed?!” Yu Haibara’s face flushed as red as a tomato, eyes flickering between the two of you. Had he missed something? He could’ve sworn–

“Don’t give Yu any wrong ideas.” You bit your tongue as you realized you said his name again. “Just be glad you weren’t there.” This was directed at him this time, and with an unsure smile on his face, he only nodded. 

“Yeah, you would’ve broken more than her ribs– probably even her back.” Shoko grinned knowingly, watching the boy's face go from confusion to understanding to horror. 

“Shoko–!” You gasped in shock, choking back a laugh. Anymore of this and Haibara might have a breakdown. 

“What? You see his arms? I dare say they're bigger than Geto’s,” She made a show of looking at his biceps, placing a hand on her chin as she observed them. 

At that, Haibara’s eyes suddenly started to sparkle like a child’s in a candy store. “No way, really–?! Geto-san is huge–”

“Oh yeah?” Shoko snickered, throwing you a look. “You hear that? Geto-san’s huge–” Before anything else could escape her mouth, your hand shot up to cover it. 

“Enough of that.” Your voice was suddenly pulled into a shriek as a wet feeling covered the inside of your hand. Reeling backward, Shoko’s saliva coated your palm. She had licked you. “Shoko! What the fuck?!”

She did nothing but laugh, and it was quickly joined in by Yu’s awkward chuckle. It was clear he had no idea what was going on.

Clearing your throat, you wiped your hand down your sweatpants. “So... what exactly did you break down my door for?” 

“Oh–! That’s right–” Haibara went to continue, but Shoko was quick to slam her fist into his gut. 

“We wanted to invite you to get ice cream with us.”

“Us…? As in?”

“Your best friend and her willing accomplices of course. No Gojo or Geto allowed.”

“Accomplices?”

“Your little child servants.” She gestured to Haibara with her finger, sighing. “Also, there's some new fodder you need to meet. One of them’s a Zenin. You’re all familiar with those.”

Ah shit, that twerp was here. 

“Fine, let’s go,” You sighed as you stood up, reluctant to leave the comfort of your bed. As comfortable as you were, hunger was gnawing at your stomach. A cold sweet treat would really help. 

You shooed the two of them out of your room and turned to lock the door behind you, but found that the lock was completely broken. “Oh, come on.” You threw Haibara a look of annoyance.

The boy in question laughed sheepishly as he avoided your gaze, choosing to focus on the floorboards below him instead as he apologized. “I’ll buy you a new lock while we’re out.” 

You did your best to keep the door from falling open. At least there wasn’t anything precious that wouldn’t have already been stolen, given your thief from before had ill intentions. 

You wrinkled your nose as you stepped into the foyer, the sight of a bad dye job immediately causing a sour taste in your mouth. As the rest of the group came closer you had to suppress a laugh. Naoya apparently had yet to have a growth spurt, looking to be a couple centimeters taller than Shoko. It was laughable, really, but the resting-bitch face he was making was enough to ruin the joy for you.

“Obinata-Senpai.” Nanami was the first to say your name. He welcomed you with a small, warm smile as he waved in your direction. Excitedly, Haibara sped up from his place behind you to match your stride. 

“Nanamin!” Cheering, you suddenly found a surge of energy flow through you, and you rushed to hug him. 

The two moved as a unit on the way to your room. 

They had nothing to fear but your rejection, but that seemed to eat at Gojo’s mind the most. The hallway was unnaturally still. Usually, muffled voices could be heard inconsistently through the walls- but this was barren and silent. 

The mangled state of your door was an insult to injury, and they both froze in place. The visibly broken handle barely hung onto the door, and they could spy pieces of the door frame scattered across your floor. 

Surprisingly, Geto was the first one to move, flinging the door open to survey the rest of the room, but found it unchanged with no other signs of a struggle. He took a deep breath to calm himself as he rationalized how difficult it was for someone to break into the school, much less the dormitory themselves. 

Turning back, he approached his boyfriend, laying a firm hand on his shoulder. “It was probably an accident, let’s look for Shoko before we get ahead of ourselves. 

Gojo didn’t seem to hear him, or rather, didn’t seem to want to hear him. “I knew barricading her window wasn’t enough.”  

Geto gave a short laugh in disbelief. “You can fix that later.” 

With renewed vigor they resumed their search, their feet carrying them towards the front of the building. They quickened their pace as they heard your voice, wanting to catch you before you left-- to pull you aside and–

They would have to have their confrontation later. 

“Nanamin!” You cheered, arms outstretched to catch the teen in an unwanted hug. The blond scoffed at your display, cheeks heating slightly as he went to sidestep you completely. 

What Nanami Kento hadn’t accounted for was the cobblestone beneath their feet to be uneven and for a certain Zenin behind him. 

Gojo sucked in a breath as Geto called out your name, and the two moved forward in a unified action. Your head turned slightly to look at them, and it was as if your expressions all mirrored one and other.

Fear.

Alas, you weren’t as spry as you were before your hospitalization, and everyone watched in mute horror as you tripped, falling directly in the arms 

of…

 “What the hell?” Naoya Zenin looked down at you in innate disgust, but his cheeks told a very different story. 

You had fallen into Naoya Zenin’s arms.

You.

Naoya.

Gojo was there.

Geto had watched it.

The surrounding area exploded into noise as your friends expressed their concern, and Nanami in particular seemed rather flustered with his escaping apology. You and Naoya stood frozen, and it didn’t take long for you both to simultaneously pull away from each other.

“Imsorry–” You mustered out a rushed regret, eyes leveled with the floor. 

A strangled noise escaped the boy in front of you, and with narrowed eyes, he only responded with a curt “whatever”. 

The duo that stood a ways from you was stilled in their tracks, breath uneven. You were in someone's arms. Given the circumstance this was obviously an accidental occurrence, and nothing more. 

But something inside them burned. 

Guilt. Jealousy. Confliction. 

And just like that, it was as if they were forgotten. The group before them had left them where they stood, not even sparing a glance their way. They watched as Naoya stared at you, confused, almost tranced into silence. He was never this quiet. 

Haibara was quite close with you now it seemed, followed by Nanami, and that quim of a first year– Ijichi. And Shoko? Well, your best friend was never far from your side.

And what about them?

Gojo and Geto now understood what it meant to reap what you sow. 

You were surprised to admit that tonight had gone fairly well. 

Naoya wasn’t as much of a nuisance as you had prepared for, and your friends seemed to be what you needed to bring you back to normalcy. Things in your life finally started to feel less dull, and as you returned back to your dorm, your shoulders– much like your door– fell forward into a slouch. 

Collapsing on your bed, you (barely) missed the side of your bedside-table. Your exhaustion was almost enough to hide the irritable sound of your phone's ringtone, but with a last ditch effort you managed to pry it from your pocket.

Flinging it open, you brought it up to your ear.

“What?” It came out harsher than you wanted, but at this rate, you couldn’t care less how anyone else was feeling.

“You need to come home. Something's wrong with your Grandmother.”

At Toji’s voice on the phone, your heart dropped. 

You couldn’t care less how anyone else was feeling? 

You were taking that back now. 

Chapter Text

Your grandma was sick. 

Nothing could explain the panic you felt when Toji pulled up in his van, holding no further explanation about the urgent phone call that brought you to this moment. You had climbed into the car with no hesitation, and the eerie silence of the night did nothing to hide your aggressive slamming of the door.

Now, you and the older man had sat in an hour of silence as he drove his van. The Yamanashi prefecture, where the range of Aino Mountains was found, was hours away from your school. She had been taken to the closest hospital, so you’d be lucky enough if you made it in time– in case something major happened. 

Without Toji home, that meant Riko was manning the house until you both returned. You hoped whatever trauma the children were subjected to wasn’t what you feared, and that Granny Obi wasn’t succumbing to what you thought were her final hours alive.

The air was cold, shooting at your face through the car’s ventilation system. You didn’t have the mind to turn the air down, or even flick the vents shut. You were frozen in place besides the occasional shudder running through you, courtesy of the cold sweat you had broken into minutes prior. 

You felt awful to admit that in your past life, you had no connection besides your last name that kept you tied to your grandma. When she died, you weren’t there. You had zero clue when she even passed. 

Your life back then was so much different, and truthfully, no one could blame you for your distance. You weren’t selfish, but you weren’t as forgiving as you were now. Your past life was full of empty promises and internal anger you held deep in spite of yourself. It’s not that you had disliked your granny, or your life at home– you just hadn’t learned to accept loss for what it was.

Natural.

That all changed when you grew up, but at that point it was already too late. Your grandma had died, and Kaoru had strayed away from the jujutsu world in favor of pursuing his own life, causing a split in your relationship. It wasn’t that you had stopped talking to him altogether, you had just grown apart. Besides Gojo, and a few friends, you were truly, and utterly alone.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for someone in your line of work to live a solitary life; you had dealt with death on a daily basis, it’s just that you never grew close to the people that passed until– 

You cut that line of thinking off as you remembered the last few months that Kenjaku had completely fucked over your old timeline, and the ensuing chaos from Sukuna coming into power. There were some people that you genuinely believed would never die, Gojo being one of them. When Nanami had died, your world had been thrown off and it only went down from there. 

From the moment that you woke up in that classroom, you had been sticking to a script of the major events that you could remember, yet you had forgotten what happened in your own life at the same time. Your eyes shifted to your lap, focusing on your clenched fists as you realized that aside from Granny and Kaoru, there were no other members of your family remaining. You didn’t even know what had happened in your cousin’s life aside from the pleasantries you would exchange over the phone once in a blue moon. 

Breaking the silence at the same time, you and Toji both cleared your throat. You glanced over at him, and his hesitation slowed his movements as he reached for the stereo. The car was painfully quiet.

“Is she–”

“Are you–”

Cutting each other off, you quickly shut your mouth with a quick apology. “You first.” You whispered, bringing your feet up into your seat. He merely grunted, and held the wheel firmly in his grip.

“Are you okay?” He asked you for the first time, and knowing his hatred for emotional conversations, this would probably be the last. 

“Me?” It came out stronger than you anticipated, and you internally high-fived yourself. 

“No, who else would I be talking to? I’m starting to think you really do have brain damage.” His delivery was rough, but if you looked close underneath his facade, you could tell this was him worried for you.

“Hah. Haha.” Your laugh was stale, and bitterly sarcastic. “Considering I just got back to school and finally settled in, only to be ripped away by the worst case of possibilities? I’m pretty fucking scared.”

“Hm.” He hummed in response, before one hand dropped from the steering wheel to settle on his knee. “What were you going to say?” 

It was as if glass had broken, and before you could think, the words shot through the cracks like water. “Is she going to die?”

It was silent in the car for what felt like an eternity. The soft buzzing of static reverberated through the cars radio, as Toji had given up on finding a station that reached this far out. To you, it only seemed to grow louder, filling your ears as the weight of this reality settled in on your shoulders. 

“I don’t need to explain death to you, kid. I’m sure you already know what i’m about to say–”

“So she is?” You swallowed on your words, and found your fingers wrapping around the cotton of your pajamas. 

You were able to see the irony of having this conversation with a semi-retired assassin, but the man that Toji had been, and the one that you came to know, were two entirely different people. The two of you have grown close enough that you were beginning to consider him family over the actual threat he was. Though, anyone would become less terrifying if you saw them passed out on the couch with their hand still a bowl of popcorn and the twins drawing on his face. 

(A part of you thinks that he was awake the whole time and let them do that, which only made it cuter.)

“She was pretty confident that this was it for her.” He didn’t know what to say, or how to say it. “She wanted you to be there.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Sometimes you don’t have too.” Something about the way he spoke seemed like he was all too familiar with situations like this. “She’s been sick for a while, but she didn’t want to overwhelm you while you were in the hospital. Tough woman.”

Your face paled, and you could say nothing as your eyes began to sting. The wind from the vents blew into your wide, bloodshot eyes, and tears began to fall. Strikingly fast, your hand shot out and slammed the vents shut, but you could still feel the chill on your skin. 

If that was true, then everytime you rewound that day at the hospital, your grandma had to experience that pain over and over. What made matters worse was the fact she was aware of it. You had caused more pain than you had intended, yet she still wanted to help you.

Didn’t that sound familiar?

“Dammit–” You cursed under your breath, and you watched as Toji’s free hand clenched through your peripheral. “God fucking damnit.” 

He chose to stay quiet as you sorted your thoughts. 

“Toji, what the fuck? What should I do? I totally forgot about–”

“Not everything is your responsibility.”

“But she’s dying–”

“Everybody dies. You either kill yourself or get killed.” His voice was sharp, and his eyes had narrowed on the road. You could hear the leather wheel cover squeaking under his fingers, and you were sure it would break at any second. “You can’t save everyone, that's unrealistic–”

“But I could–”

He threw you a glance, one brow raised slightly as a challenge. “Then why haven’t you?”

“Are you kidding? That’s what i’ve been trying to do this whole time–”

“No. Really think about it.” He was gentler with his approach this time, sighing underneath his breath in frustration. “Relying on your ability to go back and stop the inevitable is unrealistic– if it was possible then you wouldn’t be wearing yourself down half to death to accomplish it. Your clan has been around for how long? They may have been corndogs with the sticks they had in their asses, but even they would’ve jumped at the chance to become immortals.”

You held your breath, but you couldn’t do anything to stop the tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“You can postpone death for as long as you’re capable of–  if that’s what you want– but reality is, you can never really escape it. She isn’t dying from something you can stop. This is the way it’s supposed to be.”

“....You seem to know all about this.”

“Something like that.” 

Nao Obinata had never feared something like death. Even now, the thought of dying did nothing to stir her, or make her emotional for that matter. She had lived a long life-- 105 years to be exact, all thanks to the secrets of the Obinata Clan’s abilities. Her time was due long before this moment, so it would only be expected that she grew comfortable with the inevitable. 

A soft voice spoke to her left and she turned to see her youngest grandchild clutching the railing to her bed. “Granny, we’re going to go get something from the cafeteria, ok? We’ll be right back.” Kaoru hesitated to leave her, throwing the others a look over their shoulder.

She laughed as she patted their hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Alrighty, I’m not going anywhere. Bring me back something sweet, won’t you?”

Nao had always been the most empathetic in her family, so it was easy to tell when someone was hiding something from her, even if it was just the pain of seeing her in this state. And sure enough, beneath the glare that Megumi always sported was the downward curl of his lips, barely concealing the pain hidden beneath. He nodded once before pulling Tsumiki and Kaoru out of the room, with a somber Riko trailing behind them. 

Nanako reached through the railing and rubbed her arm in an attempt to comfort her. “Don’t get sad while we’re gone! We’re gonna get you as many cookies as we can.” Mimiko hastily nodded her assent. 

She laughed as she strained herself to lean over to the girls and pat their heads, messing up their hair in the process. “I’m looking forward to it.”

The grim light to their eyes lifted, if only for a brief moment, as they ran out of the room to chase after their adopted siblings. 

Though she had lost her husband early on in their marriage and her family years after, Nao had never felt alone. Her two grandchildren had always meant the world to her, even when Y/N had gone off to school and it was just her taking care of little Kaoru. 

This had been something that she had been preparing for, the knowledge from that other life allowing her to plan for the inevitable end. She knew it was her time and she had no intention of stopping it– rather, she wanted to leave a better home for her family. 

A memory flashed in her eyes of her eldest grandchild– Ichiro– and the pain in her heart caused her to cough. She hadn’t thought he would die. 

The day that you had gone to that temple had been relatively normal for her, cooking and watching game shows with Toji, before she had felt it. 

It was as if she had been speared through the chest– a pain so great that she had doubled over in her chair and Toji had rushed to her side to check on her. She knew what it meant, had felt it so many times that horrible day her clan had passed– one of her grandchildren had died. 

She had been inconsolable at the time, wandering the house and checking on the clocks she knew should still be ticking– pausing as she saw the minute hand of your own march onwards. 

Ichiro’s death wasn’t unexpected. He had become a criminal in the jujutsu world because of that night, but regardless– 

He had been her baby boy when he was first born, happy and smiling, so eager to help others as he couldn’t stand seeing them in pain. In that way, she saw you. The bloodshed he caused was a moment of insanity– nothing she could have said would have stopped him– nothing she could have done would have worked. It would only serve to leave you and Kaoru as orphans. 

In the midst of her musing, she heard the door swing open, ricocheting off the wall in a resounding clash. She may be weak, but that didn’t stop her from becoming irritated. 

“Who the hell–” She started but ended with a choked gasp at the man in the doorway. “Ichiro?”

That sunny boy had grown sickly, a long time affliction from the illness that had wiped out their surrounding village. He raised a pale hand to wave at her, smiling as he did so. “Hey, Granny.”

Nao attempted to push herself up so that she could better see her estranged grandson, wincing as she did so. She had been unable to find his clock at the house, and she had a sneaking suspicion that you were the one behind that. Was there a chance that he had only temporarily died, like you had? 

Either way, this long awaited reunion was one she never expected to happen. Hence, the only thing she could think to say wasn’t the kindest sentiment. “You look–”

“Like shit?” Ichiro supplied for her, coughing as he suppressed a laugh. “Haven’t been able to stay anywhere fancy with a shower– even communal baths have a price, you know?”

A wave of guilt hit her but she shook her head instead of apologizing. “You and I both know you did that to yourself. What are you doing here?”

He approached her bed, pulling a chair along with him before dropping himself into the seat. “Can’t I see my grandmother one last time before she dies?”

It was a numbing sensation– the rest of her family made a point to avoid the topic of death when speaking to her, she was the one who would have to bring it up. To have someone so brazenly call attention to her final days was jarring. “I suppose that’s reasonable.” She took a breath before continuing. “I hope you aren’t seeking any forgiveness from what you did that night.”

“I never expected any. In fact– I don’t want it.” Nao looked at him to see a strange expression cross his face– as if he was faking frustration. “Don’t you want to hear about my other accomplishments instead?”

“No, I’d rather not.”

“Oh, then how about you tell me about the family you replaced me with?” Ichiro quipped. “Seems you’re prouder of them than you ever were of me.”

“Ichiro, you know that’s a lie.” Nao met his eyes with a level of consternation that only a matriarch like herself could have. “Besides, I wasn’t the only one who was proud of you. You– you were such a smart and loving kid, I had no idea that you could ever be capable of that.”

With him sitting this close, she could better see how the years have treated him, even smell it for that matter. But looking up caused a sinking feeling in her chest. “Oh, now that’s a nasty scar– fresh, too. Is that from your fight with Y/N?”

Ichiro hesitated, lifting his hand and covering the scar that spanned the entirety of his forehead. “I guess you can say that.” 

“Whoever you went to for medical attention really botched the job.” She joked drily. “Look into getting their medical license revoked.”

“Oh, you know how it is, when you go to an underground surgeon; you can never guess what you’re going to get.” He rubbed the wound sheepishly, giving her a close lipped smile. “I’m sure you are well-versed in what it takes to have good medical care, given your state, now. Making it to 105 is an impressive feat for anyone, even if our clan gave you an unfair advantage.”

Nao waved him off, ignoring his jab entirely. “Tell me the truth: Why are you really here?” 

Ichiro held her gaze for a moment, the ‘warmth’ in his expression fading as he cut to the chase. “Now, I know this may be a sensitive subject given the context, but I’ve been trying to find something of mine and I was hoping that you would know where it may be.” 

She nodded in understanding. “You want that knife back, don’t you?”

“Yes, that would be the one.”

She studied his face. “Why come for it now?”

Ichiro sighed as he ran his hand through his greasy hair. “If I waited any longer, no one would be around to tell me where it is. I’ve searched the village but I come up with nothing every time.”

“Because it’s not where you left it.” She said bitterly. “You can find it on the temple grounds, in the same plot where the people you killed reside.”

He gave her a look of shock. “Oh?”

“It was all I had left of you.” Nao spoke somberly, remembering the events of that night. 

“But I didn’t die? Why have a burial with no body, no death?”

Nao reached over the railing to take her grandson’s pale hand, pursing her lips as she felt the heat of her own sink into his chilled skin. “You did die. That innocent boy– the one that would run down the mountain every morning to help the sick, that child that was so protective of his sister that I could never have imagined him hurting her– he passed with the rest of my family.”

He threw her hand off him, causing her to wince as he stood up to pace the room, stopping at the foot of her bed to scowl at her. “I wasn’t the only one at fault that night; you could have helped me persuade them, Nao Obinata. Those people could have been saved if the whole family stepped in, but you didn’t believe me! None of you believed me.”

“There was no real indication that the village was under a curse– your involvement– ” She started before he cut her off with a snarl. The truth was, women weren’t allowed to make such decisions. Even if she had begged and pleaded for their interference, there was no chance they’d listen to it. 

“But I’m alive, aren’t I? I watched as they all died, one by one- like they were nothing but cattle.” He took a breath to calm himself. “It doesn’t matter any more; there’s nothing that can be done to change the past– well…” Trailing off into a sick laugh, his eyes glinted with something dangerous. “That’s not entirely true, is it?”

She said nothing. 

Ichiro cackled. “We’ll pretend like we both don’t know what I meant by that, ok?” He returned to his place next to her side, patting her on the arm. “The three of us are just full of selflessness , huh?”

Nao blinked back tears as she saw the memory of who he had once been standing next to her. “It runs in the family.”

“Could you not tell Y/N about this? I think that the next few days are going to be hard for her.” He said callously. “Besides, even if she comes to find me, I’ll have already skipped town. No use staying around here when I’m needed elsewhere.”

Once again, Nao was hit with that same bone-chilling realization that this is going to be the last time she would speak to him– that these were her final days and that soon she would leave this world. 

As she went to say something(just what she would say even though she didn’t know– she was never prepared for this goodbye), the door opened ever so slightly. “Granny, Megumi and I found a cupcake you might like– it’s your favorite flavor!” Kaoru’s voice was static, and the air became stale. She had half the mind to turn them away, but her mouth wouldn’t open. 

A small hand pushed the door open by its flat surface, and in its place stood her youngest grandchild. Not far behind him stood Megumi, who carried a tray in his hands. She always found it sweet how the two had become inseparable; you would hardly find one without the other, but now it only served to deepen the pit in her stomach. 

“I..” Kaoru’s voice had drowned out at the sight of the visitor in her room. For a moment, nothing happened. It was too quiet. The two didn’t seem to recognize each other, Kaoru having been a child the last time that Ichiro would have seen him. 

Megumi’s hand shot out and grabbed Kaoru’s shoulder, his tone becoming more severe as he sensed the danger in the room. “Get back.” Nearly dragging them, Megumi pulled his friend behind him, widening the distance between the two. Kaoru stood frozen behind him, automatically accepting the tray that Megumi roughly passed to them. “Who the hell are you supposed to be? They aren’t supposed to allow crackhead patients to roam the hallways–”

Ichiro only smiled, tilting his head to the side as his eyes roamed over the two children. “Ah, what a mouth.” Laughing, he straightened up. “I have a feeling that I’ve overstayed my welcome. There’s no need to look so scared; I only came to say goodbye as an old friend. I was just about to head out.” 

Megumi pulled away from the doorway, angling his body so that he stayed in between Kaoru and the stranger. This only served to amuse Ichiro, laughing brazenly as he passed, waving a final goodbye to his grandmother and not once looking back. 

 “What a fucking weirdo.” Megumi relaxed, turning to Nao as he stuck to his tough guy act. “Why are you crying?”

Kaoru had placed the tray on the table, turning their head towards the door as a chorus of voices belonging to Riko and the others echoed in the hallway. “Who was that?”

“It really was just an old friend.” Granny wiped a few stray tears from her eyes as she ignored their questioning. “Now, let me see that cupcake.”

You couldn’t stop your leg from shaking underneath you as you stood at the receptionist desk. You weren’t even sure exactly what time it was, as the car ride here felt like hours ago. For as much as you felt like your world was ending, the lady in front of you seemed too relaxed. Her well manicured hands typed too slowly, her tone apathetic. 

You could now officially say that you hated hospitals. It seemed no matter what you did, you couldn’t escape them now. As of yesterday, you had just one day of ordinary highschool life before you were pulled back into the mess you considered your reality. 

Eventually you grew irritated waiting for so long just to be cleared to see your dying grandmother and before the woman at the desk could even give you the clear to head back, you were already halfway down the hall. You didn’t even pay attention to whether or not you were going in the right direction, but Toji’s constant presence behind you gave you the idea that you were at least semi-correct. 

The conversation between the two of you had fallen off by the time that he had pulled into the parking lot. You felt foolish for becoming so emotional while he was able to maintain his composure. 

You didn’t know what to say when you got there, and thousands of hypotheticals were crossing through your mind. The twisted feeling in your gut seemed to rise up your throat, and you weren’t sure if you were going to throw up or cry. Maybe a combination of the two, but luckily your jaw was locked shut. 

Coming to her door, you stopped abruptly, gesturing for Toji to go ahead. “You first.”

“You sure?” He asked with a raised brow. 

Your eyes blinked quickly in a struggle to keep back the tears that threatened to spill over. “Just go.”

Toji pushed into the room, waiting for you to pass as he closed the door behind the two of you. From where you stood, you could hear the distinct sounds of beeps through the threshold. Your feet moved of their own volition, one step after another until you were standing at her side. 

It had been less than a week, but you could see the difference in her face. It was strange how fast someone can decline in such a short time. You saw the irony in the situation and laughed without meaning to. “Hey, Granny… Looks like we’ve swapped places, haha.”

She gave you a toothy grin as she laughed. “I just needed to lie down a bit.” 

You tried to join in with her laughter but you put too much force behind it, waking up Riko and the kids in the corner of the room. Unable to stop, your shoulders began to shake with your uneven breathing, slowly devolving into sobs. Toji gestured for the kids to follow him into the hallway, leaving you alone with your grandmother. 

“Y/N, I don’t have time, and there are some things that you need to know before I go.” She started, grasping your hand as she spoke. “When I die, you’re going to become the head–”

“Stop–” You interrupted her, shutting your eyes as if not being able to see her would fix the issue. “I’m so sorry— you can’t die until I tell you how I feel–”

She broke out into a fit of deep, hoarse wheezes. Reaching out for your hand, her cold hands wrapped gently around your own. She went to speak, but you cut her off again.

“Back then, in that other life, I was selfish– the rumors about our family prevented me from living a normal life. I’ve learned to recognize that there was no one other than myself stopping me from opening up and getting to know more people. I was selfish, spiteful– just so miserable and angry that I distanced myself from you and Kaoru. When you–” 

You cut yourself off for a moment, swallowing audibly as you struggled to maintain your composure. “I only went back to the estate for the funeral when you had died. Even then I would pretend nothing happened at school, as if I didn’t have a cousin back at home with a live-in nanny.”

“But when I woke up a year ago, something changed. I changed. I wanted my family, I wanted to be around for everything I might’ve missed, but it seems no matter what I do, I'm always late– I'm always missing something.” Your hand tightened around her own, and you could do nothing but watch as tears welled in her eyes. “I was so distracted with what happened in everyone else's life that I forgot about what happened in mine. I’m so sorry, If I can prevent his, tell me how–”

“No–” Granny tried to interject, but you squeezed her hand as you continued.

“I’m so sorry for not being there when you deserved help. All you’ve ever done was look out for me, and I've only disappointed you–” Your words were cut from your throat as a cold hand ricocheted against your cheek. It didn’t hurt, but there was a lingering sting that subsided. She had slapped you.

“Disappointed me? Someone oughta smack some sense into you, child, and don’t make an old lady do it-” She croaked, but the smile on her face betrayed the tears streaming down her cheeks. 

You pursed your lips, teeth grating together in an effort to hide the sob that crouched in your throat. “I’ve only… made things more difficult for you.”

“You have never once burdened me.”

“What–?”

“In the memories I’ve seen, you’ve always struggled. I may have acted angry when you came home, but I was so happy to see my baby again.” With as much strength she could muster, she gestured for you to lay in her arms. You stared, eyes hollowed out like someone had dug a pit you couldn’t crawl out of. She lifted a brow, and without hesitation, you climbed into her arms. 

“I wish I could’ve seen you more–” You wailed, fingers tightening around her hospital gown. 

“Sometimes wanting more puts you in a worse position.”

You hadn’t meant to be greedy, you had just wanted to help everyone. “I’m such a failure– I’ve done so much to save everyone, I can’t–”

“I’m the one who’s let you down.”

You choked on your sob, eyes trailing up to look at her in shock.

“For a child to feel responsible for the things you’ve gone through– I’ve truly been a horrible grandmother.”

“No! No, that's not true– don’t say that–”

“I failed you in your last life, and I was unable to help you again. I was willing to take accountability for Ichiro, and I tried my best to atone, but I never once got to make things right with you.” 

“That was my fault, I chose to go to school away from home–”

“You’re so quick to take the blame.” She laughed, but a quick cough followed after. You flinched at the way her body shuttered, and it only made the stinging at your eyes more unbearable. “Maybe if I would’ve paid closer attention, I would’ve recognized your pain.”

“You had Kaoru to take care of. I wasn’t the only one who lost everything.”

“Baby, sometimes it’s okay to not make excuses for people who don’t deserve it. I wasn’t doing the right things to support you, and you left. That’s not your fault. Nothing was. Nothing you did now or then was selfish, If anything– you have truly turned into someone people should want to be.” 

“But i’ve only made things worse–”

“Only for yourself.” Taking your chin in her hand, she lifted your gaze to meet her own.

“You’ve made everyone happy, don’t you see that?” She was breathless, and yet she continued. 

“Toji– who for some reason has an untamable criminal record that I pretend to be oblivious about– has turned into a kind, considerate man. I don’t know much about his past, but having him around is like having a son again. You did that for me. You gave me my life back, and not just me– You gave him an opportunity to live, and whether he tells you the truth or not, he loves taking those kids to school.”

“Those children, oh those children–” A smile crept on her face, and you leaned up to wipe the tears from her eyes. “You’ve saved them all. How many second chances do you feel are necessary? You saved Riko from a horrific reality, and when you failed, you kept trying. Those two girls you found with that boy? You would not believe the beautiful, happy children they’ve turned into. I was the one who was lucky to have you. We all are.”

“And those boys? For all you’ve done for them, you deserve better, but I don’t want you to close your heart off. You deserve love from people who are willing to give it with no strings attached. Love isn’t conditional. Because if you have to work for it, then it wasn’t really love.”

“...But they mean so much to me.” Your voice came out like a whimper– broken and soft. 

“If they return the feeling, you’ll know when to forgive.”

“...But how?”

“You’ll do what’s best for you.”   

“I love you so much, Granny.”

“I love you more.”

The two of you sat like that for a long time, and through the silence, your family had entered back in. They all looked exhausted, heartbroken, but through it all– they were together. 

Hiding your face in her neck, you wrapped your arms around your grandmother even tighter.  You squeezed your eyes shut, and with a heavy breath, you uttered three small words. 

The pencil in his hand spun with his motions as Gojo stared out of the classroom window, brooding over a certain someone. Sighing, he turned his gaze back towards Chiyo but caught his boyfriend’s steady gaze as he did so, a silent understanding passing through the connection. It was only two days ago that you had abruptly left the dormitory once more, with zero explanation, leaving them with more and more questions.

It was an uphill battle just to catch up with you, much less understand your motives. A year ago, he would have claimed that he knew you like the back of his hand, but now you were nothing more than a stranger.  

All things considered, he should have accounted for Shoko’s loyalty to you, but nonetheless when he had asked Shoko, she only gave him a disapproving nod, and a look that read ‘mind your own damn business.’ The two of you were as thick as thieves, and he had to suppress a jealous feeling that bubbled in his stomach as he considered the possibility that you may have the same relationship with her that he had with Geto. When he cut his relations with you, it was as if it was a personal attack on her, leading to Shoko ghosting them at every turn. 

Satoru knew that he should care about the loss of his other friends, yet he couldn’t bring himself to even try. 

Given his own stance on your friendship with Nanami Kento and Haibara Yu, he couldn’t be happier that the two now spent their days giving him and Suguru the stink eye. Boo-hoo, his sweet and naive underclassmen didn’t like him, what a loss. 

Aside from them, the only other dweeb to open his undeserving mouth about you was that wannabe sorcerer from the Zenin clan, and if he had to wager a guess, he had more beef with Satoru himself than anyone else. But when he would continue to talk about more and more of your personal life, he could feel himself grow spiteful. 

It was as fruitless as Tantalus’s grasp– Suguru had reminded him time and time again that the young Zenin truly didn’t know you– but it did nothing to quell the curiosity in Gojo’s mind. He was borderline paranoid. Suguru liked to say it was just a part of his ‘creative’ imagination, but Satoru knew deep down it was deeper than that. It was fascination. 

Chiyo-Sensei’s lecture had grown boring ages ago, and to add insult to injury, the clock had only moved twenty minutes ahead of what it had been when class had started. If he had your ability to control time, Gojo would definitely use it for a necessary evil: to skip class. Today he was going to ask their teacher the truth of your absence, and he wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. 

You were his friend . 

At least, you used to be. He was entitled to know how you were feeling. 

Ripping him from his thoughts, a paper found itself landing on his desk. Looking up, he caught a worried glance from his teacher. Though it was obvious Chiyo-Sensei favored you over the rest of your classmates, she seemed unbiased when she was at work. For a second, Gojo would’ve believed she cared for him– but he knew deep down, something like that was impossible.

At the end of the day he was someone people could use. If it meant faking sympathy and giving him praise, he was sure everyone would do it. They already had. Especially you.

Satoru had taken time to think about how and why your betrayal weighed so heavy on his conscience. As much as he tried to deny the truth, some part of him cared deeply about you, and that’s why it had hurt. You had actually made him care for you. 

“Gojo?” His sensei’s voice cut through the silence, and his head jerked up. “You haven’t started your assignment. Are you alright?”

Taking the paper before him, he did little to read the questions along the page. Instead, his clouded eyes were unfocused on the circles he began shading in. 

He would never admit what was really wrong. His pride would swallow him whole before he ever said anything out loud. He didn’t understand your deceitful methods, and he most definitely didn’t understand your blatant disregard for yourself. Whether it was conceited or not, Gojo knew that being selfish was the only true way to live. 

While he had no idea what his future held besides the hints you provided, he was struggling to trust you. You had fooled him the first time with Riko, and that was his fault- but a second time was just an insult to his name. 

As the bell rang overhead, he silently watched as his classmates sat up from their seats. Shoko didn’t spare them a single glance, eyes straight ahead towards the door as she walked away. With a reassuring squeeze to his shoulder, Suguru waited at the side of Satoru’s desk. 

“Nah, I’ll catch up with you in a second, I need to ask teach’ a question.” Dismissively, Gojo gestured his hand towards the door. 

He raised a thin eyebrow in response, a gleam of amusement tinting his eyes as the prospect of a possible conversation with Chiyo. “Oh, and is it something I can’t stick around for?” He waited a beat before realization crossed his face, giving a short nod as he took Satoru’s bag from him. “I’ll head over and pick us up some coffee from the cafe.”

“Aww, you’re the sweetest guy ever.” 

Taking it as a sign to politely get the fuck out, Geto rolled his eyes as he left, letting the door slam behind him as he did so. 

Gojo made his way to the desk that was in front of his teachers, leaning against it and smiling at her.

Chiyo-Sensei seemed to be focused on the papers in front of her, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she continued grading. Irritated, Gojo cleared his throat, only to be ignored again. 

Fed up with her, Gojo called out her name. “Chiyo-sensei.”

With a great talent for bullshit, she effortlessly placed her hand on her chest in a show of ‘shock’. “Gojo-san! I didn’t see you, sorry about that.” She collected the papers into a pile and shoved them into a folder, standing up and leaning against her own desk so that she could be eye level with him. “So, what’s going on? As much as I enjoy your silence, you’ve been acting weird.” Popping the strip of gum in her mouth, she hummed. “Are you okay?”

“...I’m just worried.” His brows pulled forward into an expression that screamed concern. “It’s been a few days since Y/N went home and given the last time that she disappeared unannounced… I’m starting to think she doesn’t want to graduate. 

Which may be a bit too blase for the amount of trauma that day had caused him, but he couldn’t stand to lose his cool in front of Chiyo-Sensei. The woman was a hopeless gossip. 

“With all the respect that’s due, and I can promise you, it’s not a lot– That’s not exactly your business.”

“But I’m her classmate–”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but you're likely the last person she needs to speak to right now. She’s going through something very private–”

“I just want to apologize.” While Gojo Satoru was genuinely thinking of ways to speak to you, he wasn’t sure how . Some part of him was still angry, but he felt like he was more angry with himself than you. 

“Again, you’re likely the–”

“Last person, yeah, I got that.” Gojo cut her off quickly, releasing a heavy exhale. “I just need to talk to her. It doesn’t have to be now.” 

She clicked her tongue as she broke eye contact with him, turning her attention to her nails as she answered. “Nao Obinata passed away a few days ago. Y/N should return to school after the funeral. You can have that conversation when she’s back.” She shook her head. “No, scratch that- you wait until she’s ready.” Chiyo knew deep down a visit from Gojo, the root of all of your problems, would not benefit anyone in this situation. 

Gojo stilled as he registered her words. As much as the old woman seemed to loathe him as of recently, he couldn’t not ignore the feeling of his stomach rising in his throat. He never had a family member pass, much less one that he cared about enough to even cry over. 

Distantly, he found himself wondering if you had known this was coming. Could it be that you had failed to prevent it? If not, why wouldn’t you try to save her?

“Got it. I’ll wait till she feels better.” Shrugging his shoulders, his hands subconsciously found his pockets. He avoided her gaze, but his voice rattled in mock disappointment . 

 That might’ve been the biggest lie he ever told. 

No, he needed to see you now.

The days leading up to the funeral were a blur. You knew the schedule for the day like you knew your own address, but that didn't make seeing it in your calendar any less bizarre. You hear about the phrase “going through the motions” in relation to a mundane activity but it was harrowing to relate it to your own grandmother's funeral.

When she had passed, it felt just like the last day before. Going to see her in that tiny hospital room with your family, but only this time, she didn't wake up to greet you. You knew she was still alive, courtesy of her active monitor– the IV pole still beeping– but she slept through it all. It was as if she was in a dream where you could no longer reach her. And soon enough, only a few hours later, you watched as the spikes representing her heart grew further and further apart on the monitor, finally trickling to a simple squiggle on the screen. 

No one had spoken, but it was clear to even the youngest that she had finally gone.

That camaraderie didn't make it hurt any less.

Now, you stand in your childhood home, going through the motions and dressing yourself in black dress clothes. You were hit with the irony that in any other circumstance, doing this would mean that you would be going on a mission. For a moment, you let yourself live in the fantasy. 

The last funeral for the Obinata clan was over a decade ago and you could hardly remember what the rituals were and you felt wretched. You couldn't even give granny a burial that honors her family name. Your stomach roiled as you moved to stand next to Kaoru in front of her coffin, reaching out and grasping their hand. 

It was a silent agreement between the two of you to not talk, not look each other in the eye, because you knew if you did, neither of you would have been able to keep your composure as the priest you had hired spoke. 

It was only later, when you watched her body be lowered into the ground that you could feel your cheeks begin to wet, your breathing becoming uneven as little gasps slipped out, and you let go of their hand to wipe at your eyes. 

Cold hit your head, in little drops at first, but the rain soon grew to the point that fat droplets clung to your face as gravity pulled them downwards, blending with your tears. Without meaning to, you choked out an incredulous laugh, drawing Kaoru's eyes to your own. 

Before long, the two of you began laughing and sobbing, a horrible mess of snot and salty water, drawing scandalized looks from the rest of your family. 

Of course it would rain now. It was like some sick sense of irony, or maybe it was just Granny above that sent it down as a joke. She never liked when anyone cried over her. 

You heard the frantic footsteps of the people around you and turned as you felt Kaoru grab your sleeve, trying to pull you along with them, but you covered their hand with your own. “Go on, I'll be fine. I just want to hang out here for a second.” 

“...” They let go of you for a moment, but you felt warmth around your midsection as they hugged you. Turning around in their hold, you returned the hug, grasping them tightly as you sobbed into their hair. You should have done this before. Why didn't you? Why were you so heartless?

When they left, your legs gave out below you and you curled into a ball in front of her grave. You felt selfish.

In the midst of your despair, you heard someone's footsteps behind you. You didn’t have the energy to look up, and instead wiped carelessly at your face. The figure stopped next to you, and you could hear their shallow breathing. They were sitting down, close enough that you could feel the heat from their body.

Well, close enough that you should have been able to feel the heat from their body, but if anything it felt as if the air around you grew colder.

“It happens so fast, doesn't it?” The hairs on the back of your neck shot up like hackles, and like a cornered dog, you found yourself frozen in fear. “One moment they're with you and you think that nothing could go wrong.” A numbing sensation overtook your body as Ichiro’s voice echoed in your ear. “And the next?”

It was as if the ground beneath you disappeared- and in fact, it did, as you were sent skidding across the dirt. He hadn't laid a hand on you, instead, your instincts had taken control and moved you across the cemetery. 

“They’re already dead.”

“You–” Your words were caught in your throat, and you were sure you could suffocate. 

“Me.” His smile was eerie as it stretched across his face, pulling the skin around his eyes down. 

“Gojo said you-”

“Ah, so he’s just Gojo now? What happened to your beloved Satoru? No longer friends? It seems you need those right now.”

“You died.”

“You keep saying that like it surprises you. Think bigger– outside the box.” With that, his hand wavered over his bangs, and you watched as they pulled back to reveal a dark, fresh scar. 

“Kenja-”

“I’d prefer we don’t speak that name over dear Granny’s grave, it might disrupt her passage into the next life.” Ironic, considering the situation Ichiro’s body was in. “She died thinking her dear grandson was alive and seemingly well. A criminal, but alive. I’d hate to spoil such a wonderful funeral.”

He had already ruined what was left of it. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Can’t I wish my darling baby sister the sincerest of condolences?” As the words left his mouth, you watched as his body seemingly vanished into thin air. You turned on your foot, paranoia rushing through your brain as you glanced around your family’s cemetery.

“You think too much.” You shriveled as he breathed down your neck, placing your foot forward in an effort to move away. You were met with a quicker assault, and as you moved, he did too. 

A knife pressed itself against the center of your throat, and in response, your body fell slack against his own. You were tired. You hadn’t slept in so long, and though you were afraid, part of you didn’t care at all to fight back. 

“I came here for this.” As he pulled it away from your skin, you were able to see what he was talking about. The blade . The very same one he used to slaughter your family. You hadn’t given it any thought, but now as you looked at it, you wondered if it too had been cursed.

Why else would he want it?

“...Why?”

“Souvenir.” Shrugging, he lightly pushed you forward, but through your exhaustion you were sent tumbling down to your knees. “Besides, I wanted an excuse to show you what you did to me.”

“....” You didn’t bother to look up at him. In defeat, you let yourself cry. Though his presence didn’t waver, it soon didn’t matter. You felt utterly alone. 

Your hands came up to scrub at your face in an effort to wipe it dry of tears, but you found that the action was futile as dirt coated your fingers. You were making a mess of yourself.

He didn’t laugh like you had expected, nor did he mock you. He stood in silence, almost like he was disappointed in your reaction. Had he expected you to fight? He had overestimated you then, because no functional human being would be strong enough to act normal in circumstances like these.

A flash of something familiar presented itself in your mind. Gojo’s face.

Through hardship, he was someone who came back stronger each time. When a bone is broken and begins its process of healing, for a fleeting moment it’s the strongest it could ever be. It was as if Gojo Satoru’s ‘fleeting moments’ lasted forever. 

He had proven this to be true over and over in your past life, and even with your frequent manipulation of time, it seemed one of the only things you couldn’t stop was his evolution. 

Why, in times like these, did you think of him? 

“It’s simple.” Kenjaku’s response jerked you from your thoughts, and in that you realized you had said that out loud. “You love him.”

You turned with a look of defiance, a feeling unorthodox bubbling in your chest. “You know nothing-”

“I know a lot more than some people.” Crouching before you, the tip of his knife scraped the edge of your nose. In response, it crinkled upward towards your face as blood dribbled down your lips. 

“I know that something is inconsistent with your existence. I hadn’t accounted for three special grade Jujutsu Tech students, only two. You weren’t supposed to be this strong. Your beloved Satoru and his friend I was aware of, but when I discovered someone else was tracking down the cursed fingers of Ryoumen Sukuna, I was surprised to see you.”

“Ichiro didn’t tell you?”

“He was rather reserved when it came to his family, or what remained of it . He didn’t tell me much.”

“So you’re not here to kill me? You’re just here for that? ” Your eyes leveled with his knife, and a foreign thought in your mind beckoned you to lean into it. 

Your own thoughts terrified you, and with a last ditch effort you pulled yourself away. 

“Fortunately for you, yes.” With a grin the blade disappeared up his sleeve, and as quick as it disappeared, so did his smile.

Opening your mouth, a small noise slipped past your tongue. You wanted to be angry. You wanted to kill him for ruining your life, you wanted to kill him for leaving you alone, you wanted to–

Lunging forward, your body crashed against his. He made a noise akin to shock, but as he tried to pull away, you forced his arms to his sides. Wrapping your own around him, an ugly sob escaped your throat. 

“What are y–”

“Shut the fuck up.” As your hands clawed into the back of his shirt, you felt his body relax in your hold. “Let me have this. Let me have my brother.”

“Please.”

The doorbell echoed throughout the household, and Megumi watched as everyone’s heads rose in attention, but none of them made an effort to go and answer it. 

This house didn’t have electricity before, but with Granny Obi’s permission Toji had used the money he had earned from your mission to update the house. It had air conditioning, internet, and even a television– he said it was ‘living lavish’, but Megumi wasn’t too convinced. 

“I got it.” As he rose, he watched as everyone else relaxed in their chairs in the living room. Toji hadn’t spoken much, and it was clear he was taking this harder than he was letting on. He thought his father had grown accustomed to loss, as his job seemed anything but clean in the name of murder. Megumi never learned much about his mother, but from what he could gather, she was a wonderful person.

Love was something Megumi was beginning to understand. The newest lesson he had been taught? Love was nothing without loss. 

He wasn’t sure he could lose more of what he had.

Wrapping his hand around the door handle, he sucked in a breath before turning the lock. Ripping it open, his face fell into an expression of pure disgust.

“Heyooo, you’re little Megumi, right?” Gojo Satoru was obviously straining to speak as he cleared his throat. Friendliness was not his forte. He was leaned over in a position that did not look comfortable with his hands hiding in his pockets. 

“You know who I am.” He moved to shut the door, but the white haired male grabbed it in an effort to stop him. “Fuck. Off.” The child groaned in response. This was not the day he wanted to put up with this. 

What were they doing here? And by ‘they’, he indeed meant Gojo and Geto. 

Standing somewhat behind the white haired douchebag was his equally headache inducing partner. 

In Megumi’s opinion, they looked like the Avon ladies back at home who would knock aimlessly at his door for some adult to answer. Truth was, with Toji’s absence, there wasn’t anyone who could. Come to think of it, why hadn’t his father picked up the same idea? Scamming people out of their money so they could buy a meaningless product seemed to be right up his alley. 

“Is she home?” Geto spoke up this time, his hand coming up to grab Gojo’s shoulder.

“There's a lot of girls here. Be more specific.”

“Oi, you’re a real smartass, you know who he means–” Agitated, Gojo leaned further downward. 

“Why are you asking? She doesn’t want to see you.”

With all his strength, Geto pulled Gojo away from the door. “We’re well aware of how badly we messed up– We came to apologize, not cause anymore problems. Swear on it.” 

Megumi seemed to be deep in thought, and with a short sigh and a click of his tongue, he shook his head. “I’ll go get her. Wait here.” 

Shutting the door on them, a hostile emotion developed itself in the child’s chest. He was being petty, sure, but he wasn’t intending on breaking you from your mourning to deal with these asswipes. 

He was going to tell his father. 

He remembered something his father had said not too long ago, and though irrelevant until now, it had stuck with him. The next time Toji saw Gojo Satoru, he was going to kill him. 

“Dad.” Megumi’s voice was hoarse, and with a quick clearing of his throat, he repeated himself. 

His father sat absentmindedly in front of the television, eyes cloudy and hazed. They were cold, and at a time like this, Megumi was sure he would be drinking. He had come a long way from being irresponsible, as it was clear he was purposely avoiding it.

“What is it, Megumi?” His voice was soft, something uncharacteristic of his persona. If it had been under different circumstances, he would’ve been concerned. 

“There's someone at the door.”

“Well, you answered it, didn’t you?”

“They won’t go away.”

“And who is ‘they’?”

“Gojo Satoru and–”

With no hesitation, Toji Fushiguro launched himself out of his chair. If it weren’t for its weight, everyone in the room was sure it would’ve gone flying into the wall. 

“Megumi, keep everyone inside. I’ll be back.” He said nothing else as he grabbed for his weapon that sat hoisted to the wall, and with a firm flick of his wrist, it flipped in his hand. 

Megumi did nothing but smile. Granny would be proud of this turn of events, in fact, she would probably be betting on the winner. 

As Toji got to the door, one thought chorused through his mind. He was going to kill this son of a bitch.

The door swung open to find Gojo’s turned away from it. He appeared to be heavy in conversation with Geto, and Toji did little to waste time.

“Huh–? Oh, hey–” As the white haired male turned, Toji reveled in the look of pure disdain coloring his face. “OH–”

With a swift swing of his face, Gojo was barely able to escape the insanity that was Toji Fushiguro’s right hook. Geto was not as lucky as his face took cover for Gojo’s absence, ultimately sending him spiraling back into the stairs. 

Gojo, distracted, found himself reaching out to catch him from the fall. 

“Oh no you don’t–” With as much vigor as he could summon, Toji’s fist returned to meet Gojo’s jaw. A sickening crack echoed out, and a smirk grew on his face. From what he learned from Gojo’s technique, limitless was controlled by the user. In order to help Geto, he would have to turn it off– He had found his weakness and his opening. 

Gojo flew backward, and as he raised a hand to defend himself, he found it futile. Where Toji’s hand left, another appeared. This time, a sickle like blade found itself slicing through the fabric of his school uniform. If it weren’t for him flinching, he was sure it would’ve nicked skin. 

“We just–” His words were stolen from him as another punch sent his face flinging to the side. There was no point in talking things out, that much was obvious.

Geto, who crawled from the stairs, called out something before pulling himself up by the stair rail. A curse appeared, and in an effort to stop Toji from his assaults, it latched its limbs to his torso. 

Satoru Gojo had never seen a man so animalistic before. Fear was an uncommon emotion that was growing more and more apparent as of late, and as he watched Toji’s weapon lacerate the curse into two, it was cemented in his gut.

Fushiguro Toji was strong.

“You stay out of this, you filthy fucking monkey.” With a flick of the blade, blood splattered all over Gojo’s face. “My fight is with this one, but don’t worry– I’ll let you have a turn later.” 

Gojo managed to crawl away in his distraction, and with a quick roll, he avoided another attack to his back. He just needed the opportunity to activate limitless, then–

As Toji’s boot collided with the back of his knee, Gojo bared his teeth. He wouldn’t give this man the satisfaction of a sound. Though he was capable of keeping himself together, he was absolutely sure it was dislocated. 

Geto raced forward, and with all the strength he could muster, jumped onto Toji’s back. His arms found themselves wrapping around his neck, and in a sudden realization, he decided to utilize a move you had once used on him.

Wrapping his legs around his torso, he shifted all of his weight into his lower body. He jerked the taller man’s head back, and somewhat successfully pulled him into a state of suspension. This would (hopefully) constrict his movements from the neck down, and make it harder to move. 

That was, until, Toji decided to do the unexpected. Fall.

“FUC–”

Geto’s eyes widened in shock as Toji let his body fall back, thus crushing him underneath his weight as they both slammed into the ground. 

The other sorcerer shot upward as his friend’s voice was cut short, just in time to see his partner’s head be repeatedly smashed into the ground. Blood splattered everywhere, and the red was making Gojo sick. 

At some point the kids had come outside to watch, and although a funeral had taken place only an hour prior, the smiles on their faces could convince someone otherwise. 

You didn’t want to leave. It was a disservice to your grandmother to not stay with her that first night in the cold dirt, surrounded by her long dead family, with no one to keep her company. But Kenjaku, in the guise of your brother, gave you a warning.

“I let you have this much. Go away.” 

The fight had long left your body, leaving you vulnerable and afraid. You didn’t fear dying. It was the people that you would leave behind that you fought for. 

With a weak nod, you stumbled away, wiping at your cheeks as you walked. 

“Wait.”

You looked back at him, only to flinch as something landed at your feet. 

He jutted his chin in your direction. “I think that’s meant for you.” 

Leaning down, you bit your lip to hold back a cry as you picked up your necklace. Rather, the necklace that was meant to be yours, never given to you in this life, and surely it would never belong to you now. 

But you were selfish. 

You swiped it from the ground, clutching it to your chest as you nodded at your enemy, regarding the once in a lifetime truce you shared. 

You leveled him with a cold stare. “I’m not sure how you got across the boundary, but know that this won’t happen again.”

Without waiting for his response, you left him on the hill, with the cold moon hanging low behind him, outlining his silhouette with the grace of the moonlight. A cruel antithesis. 

The woods around you were silent as you walked, mourning the loss of your grandmother with you. 

In that moment you felt an overwhelming amount of loneliness. You felt your pockets for your cell phone in a daze, wanting to call Shoko as you walked, if only to just hear her voice. You let your hands sway at your sides as you walked, each step leaving behind a piece of you.

Staying among the dead for as long as you had made you feel like you were going crazy- But you didn’t think that you had gotten to the point that you would have started to hear voices. 

You willed your feet to move faster with increasing urgency as you recognized the sounds of battle coming from your home. Did Kenjaku bring company with him during his invasion? You broke into a run, tripping and falling on your ass as you made it to your foyer and to the source of the clamor. 

Gojo was face down, ass up a few meters from a hulking Toji, ruthlessly beating a defenseless Geto. Squinting, you caught sight of Megumi cheering from the door and a stressed Riko leading the rest of your family back into the house, dragging him inside by the collar of his shirt and slamming the door. 

You scrambled to your feet and rushed into the fray, grabbing at Toji’s arm to stop him. “Hey, hey, hey-! What the hell is going on here?!”

Toji took a deep breath to slow his panting, turning to you with a gruesome smile. “Oh, just cleaning up some unwanted solicitors.” 

You pulled at his shirt to drag him up, pushing him towards the door. “Get inside.” 

He waved his handing in front of him innocently. “Yes, ma’am.” Walking away, he made sure to kick Gojo’s injured leg ‘by accident’. 

You groaned, rubbing your face as the two let out uncomfortable moans of their own as they got to their feet. It was incredulous to see the two strongest of your generation brought to their knees by someone with no cursed energy, and you would have laughed if you hadn't remembered what had happened in the last life. “What are you guys doing here.” 

Gojo felt around the ground for his sunglasses that had flown off at some point in the fight. “We heard what happened– with Granny. Just wanted to come and–”

“Come and what? Mock me? Do some bullshit like make out in front of me to prove how much happier you are now that you wrote me out of your life?”

Geto reached out and grasped your shoulder, angling your body towards his own. “Y/N–”

“No!” You smacked his hand away, stepping back and shaking your finger at them. “You don’t get to say anything– neither of you do! You left me! You shut yourselves off ‘cause your stupid feelings were hurt. Well, I’m hurting too! I didn’t mean those things; I didn’t want this. It’s not like I woke up one day with the resolution to be the biggest bitch!” 

You drew in a shuddering breath as you rubbed your eyes, heading pounding with a growing headache. Just what did they want? To come all this way and throw themselves back into your life, while fighting Toji of all people. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

Your breaths became shallow, the time between each of them quickening as you reached up and grasped the charm on your neck. “What– why are you here?! You don’t even–” You sobbed, wishing nothing more for a hug from your grandmother. 

Gojo’s warm hand shot out and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you into his embrace. “I’m sorry.”

You felt as if you were spiraling as a second pair of arms wrapped around you. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to break away, to tell them to fuck off and– it just felt so nice. Like you could pretend that he – that they cared for you, that they may love you. You shivered as Geto’s voice spoke next to your ear. “Y/N, I’m sorry for your loss.”

You allowed yourself to be selfish– to let them do whatever malicious prank they may have planned to break you further just for this moment in their embrace. You leaned into them, letting your head fall forward onto Gojo’s shoulder before weakly pushing them away. “Just go.”

“Y/N–”

You cut him off, slipping past towards your home. “Please. Just go.” 

Just as you got to the doorway, you allowed yourself to look back. They stood out from the shadows around them, swathed in the forgiving night that covered the bruises on their body and spirit. You spared them one last bereft look as you closed the door behind you. 

Nothing good lasts forever. 

Chapter Text

The morning after had no right being as picturesque as it was. 

Toji made a face of disgust as he woke up to the chirping of birds. Carelessly he slipped out of bed to open the window, not to admire nature for what it was, but to hurl one of his slippers at the nest to startle them away. He would unfortunately have to pick those up later.

Rays of gold and orange peeked through the trees lining the mountain tops, and if Toji didn't know any better, he would have expected some ditzy tune to start playing in the background– like this was an episode of a sitcom where by the next episode, everything was magically resolved. It was as if the day before wasn’t terribly bleak and depressing, and the water from the downpour now reflected streaks of light that blinded him if he looked at them a certain way. 

Judging by the pounding of his headache, he may have gotten more than friendly with a bottle of bourbon the night before. As soon as the last kid was tucked into bed, the most expensive bottle was opened. Granny Obi had mentioned saving it for a special occasion, and Toji thought it was ironic that her death might’ve been what she meant. 

He could be considered something similar to a lush, never able to control himself when it came to any of his vices. It could be considered a grace that he waited until the small hours of the morning to start drinking. 

He grunted as he opened his door, stepping out into the hallways and recoiling as one of the runts sprinted past his door followed by a distressed Riko. 

“Give that back!” He heard in the distance, rolling his eyes as Nanako yelled back. He could tell by the sound of their footsteps that it had transgressed into a fight. 

A cup of coffee would do wonders for his hangover now.

On his way to the kitchen, he passed his own son crouched in front of a door down one of the many halls. They caught eyes briefly, followed by Megumi sticking his tongue out at him as he  continued to knock on the wood. “Kaoru, let me in.” 

It wasn’t long before another voice echoed beyond the door. Although muffled to Toji’s ears, he watched as it slowly opened and Megumi disappeared inside. 

He only shrugged his shoulders, leaving them to their own issues. It wasn't any of his business. 

His original plan when moving to the estate was to milk the situation for all it was worth. He thought that eventually, he could fall back into his old habits and go back to his old life– before he knew you, or this family– But as time passed he grew comfortable with this. Maybe it wasn’t so bad afterall, as being depended on stopped him from thinking too deeply. It was hard to have a midlife crisis when you're responsible for 7 kids(one of which was a soon-to-be adult).

It was only after two weeks of acting as the designated ‘man of the house’ that Granny Obinata would gift him a mug. Initially, he had to suppress a scoff as the letters printed on the side, weary of upsetting her and getting kicked out. 

To his surprise, it became a permanent fixture in his morning routine. Grab it from the cabinet, pour him some coffee from the pot, enjoy, and then clean. It was second nature to him as he strode into the kitchen, confidently opening the door and reaching for the mug before freezing. 

The letters on the side of his cup had started to fade from being washed but he could still make out the faint ‘His’ printed across the side. And only a few inches next to it was its companion, the tacky cursive lettering spelling ‘Her’s’. Toji could remember the cheeky grin that Granny had given him when he found out she had bought them a matching pair. 

He huffed in amusement as the memory, going through the motions of making himself a strong cup of coffee. Without meaning to, he still made the same amount of coffee he always did and grimaced at the thought of wasting it. Granny Obinata and him had spent hours browsing online and through various tv shows, always looking for something new to try and it just so happened that this particular brew was the drink of choice for her favorite idol. 

It seemed that the obvious answer to this conundrum was to simply bring you some. 

The night before was rough on everyone, something that echoed in the slight strain on his muscles, reminding him of the way he wiped the floor with those two buffoons. He hummed to himself as he took out the ‘Her’s’ mug and poured the remaining liquid into it before making his way to your room.

Toji sucked his teeth as he looked down at his hands, both currently preoccupied, and called out in a low voice. “You up?”

No reply. 

He groaned, rolling his head with the noise before speaking louder. 

“Good morning, Y/N! Rise and shine.”

Beyond the door he heard the tell-tale signs of movement, effectively destroying any sense of propriety he had as he not-so-gracefully kicked the bottom of the door. 

To his surprise, the wooden frame gave out easily, flying open with his actions and giving him a full view of your shocked face as you fell out of your bed. 

“What the fuck?!” You yelled, voice incredibly hoarse as you threw your pillow in aim for his face. 

He sidestepped the projectile as he walked over to you to present the mug. “Just wanted to bring you something to wake you up.” 

You pressed a hand to your forehead, your face painfully swollen to the point that you were having difficulties keeping your eyes open. From the piteous look he was giving you, you were sure you looked like an overworked and underpaid pothead.

Toji had thought he had seen you at your lowest, when you were fed up, exhausted, and angry– but nothing compared to the aura of defeat that hung around you now. Usually through your fatigue, you’d find some solution and pull yourself out of your episode– but it was clear this wasn’t something you could back away from. 

He had known you to be a determined individual, driven by pure will and determination, but here? Something about you looked familiar, and Toji knew that look all too well.

You were experiencing grief, and for once, you were being forced to accept it for what it was. Irreversible.  

While he was aware the concept of death and loss wasn’t foreign to you, it was clear you and him had your differences in handling it. 

You were drowning in denial half the time, obsessed with the idea of ‘saving’ the lives of people you had lost before– you never accepted the reality that death was finite, while Toji accepted his losses and chose to move on from it.

He knew why the look on your face was familiar, and deep down, he felt a cruel pain twist in his stomach. He bore the same expression when his wife had died, all those years ago.  

It made him wonder: Were you really that different?

If he had the same power, would he be a victim to the same endless cycle? What would he have to give up to have the life he wanted?

Thinking like that was senseless, given your own experience. It would get him no further than you. 

You gave him an incredulous look. “Do you think this is the best time for that?”

Toji gave you a grin as he gestured to you to follow him. “Why don’t we go for a walk in the garden?” 

You were quiet for a moment– as if to give him a silent ‘no’ in response– but it was clear from his callous mask he wasn’t really asking. 

“Do I have a choice?” 

“Nah.” 

Forcing yourself to get off the floor, you found your movements riddled with lethargy. Your face felt fuzzy, and as your hands grappled at the floorboards you had fallen on, you nearly collapsed against them.

He stepped forward to offer you a hand, but you ignored it– or at least pretended that the gesture didn’t exist. As you stood, your feet lagged behind you. If he didn’t know any better, he was sure you were going to fall flat on your face. 

That moment never came, and thankfully he never had to catch you. 

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you walked, your eyes trained on the ground in front of you as he paced slightly ahead. It wasn’t like he was trying to escape you, in fact, it was quite the opposite. You were dreading this conversation. 

Normally, you might’ve tried to match your strides, laughing all the same as the man gawked at you in a judging manner. He would’ve let something sly slip, along the lines of ‘you sure you’re almost an adult?’ or a curt ‘act your age’, but this wasn’t normal. 

Nothing about this was normal.

Instead, your eyes stared holes into the rise and fall of his shoulders. You felt a gaping hole in your heart where something had once lived, but for some reason, you couldn’t recall the feeling. 

The house felt different, and as you walked, you swore you could hear your own footsteps pulsing through the blood in your ears. Everything felt heavy, and surreal, like you were in another plain entirely.

You hadn’t slept at all last night, plagued with nightmares and visions of this very house. It was as if with every breath you took, the house moved along with you. Every step, every word, every sound- it consumed you, you had morphed into one. Was this what your Grandmother had experienced? Were you to be plagued with this your whole life? It was uncomforting, and though you were mortified at the thought- a part of you didn’t want to be here at all. 

The main room– the hondo as Granny had liked to call it- was silent and stale, like the air had grown cold despite the heat coming from the vents. There was no continuous ticking of Nao Obinata’s clock, and with that thought, you stopped right in your tracks.

The face of the grandmother-clock was the same, and yet, nothing moved. The hands– her hands– were frozen. It seemed when someone died, everything about them did too.

Toji called your name twice, and with another sharp jerk of his head, you were ripped out of your thoughts. 

“What?”

“You haven’t drank your coffee.”

“Is that your polite way of saying I need it?”

“Not necessarily trying to be polite, but sure.”

“Fuck you.”

“No thanks, kid.”

Scrunching your nose, you bared your teeth in disgust. He knew how to get under your skin. “What is it, Toji?”

“What is what?”

“Don’t act stupid. You didn’t just take me out here to go on a walk.”

Toji sighed, taking his arm to open the sliding door to the courtyard. A sickening feeling enveloped your gut as you stared into your grandmother’s zen garden– the very same one you cleaned together when you all first arrived here.

“I never believed in these things. Nao did.” Toji’s breath wavered slightly, but you caught onto it. “She told me it was good for meditating– clearing your head and whatnot.” 

“I need more than meditation.” You bit your tongue, swallowing more than just your words.

“Apologies, I don’t give out free lobotomies anymore.” 

If the dynamic between you was normal, you would’ve laughed, but given your circumstances- this was anything but normal. Your sense of humor escaped you, unfortunately, so you only provided a small huff in acknowledgement. 

“I– Toji, I appreciate you trying to help me, I do– but it’s too soon for this kind of stuff. I need to sleep.”

“Kid, listen-”

“Please just respect the fact that I need to be alone .”

“Sure, I can respect it- but I know deep down that’s not what you want.”

He was right. No one really wanted to be alone. You wanted someone to speak with about your feelings, but you didn’t want to dump your emotions on them– you couldn’t be responsible for that too. 

Ignoring his obviously correct assumption, you pushed your way out of the door and into the courtyard. The second your foot made contact with a stepping stone that began the path, a shiver ran up your spine. 

Toji was behind you, gently shutting the door behind him.

“It’s okay to feel like your world is ending.” When he put it like that, you felt ridiculous. “I know what it’s like–” Pausing, he took a short breath, the air nearly freezing around his mouth. “-to put so much love into one person and have it ripped away from you. You feel like you can’t get it back, and there's some pit that’s never going to be refilled.”

You didn’t say anything, instead you found yourself pausing your movement into the garden for him to catch up and continue.

“When Megumi’s mother–” He cleared his throat. “When my wife passed away, I thought there was nothing in this world that would make me feel happy again. I was angry. I felt like the world was out to get me- so in return, I did everything I could to get back at the world.”

“....It didn’t work.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. 

You knew little of his story, but you were familiar with how it ended.

“Yeah. Something like that.” 

His words seemed to float aimlessly in the air around you, and with another shiver up your back, you turned around to face him. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because.” Shrugging, he drank from the mug in his hand. Your eyes rested upon the word ‘his’ etched into the clay. Looking down, your gaze softened at the matching name on your own. “I don’t need you hating the world when it’s already given you something worth remembering.”

“I don’t hate the world, I just-”

“You hate yourself, and that’s even worse.”

Scoffing, you turned your head to look back at the garden. Someone would have to keep cleaning it. You wondered if Kaoru would- they seemed like the type to care about these things.

“You can’t stop every bad thing in your life from happening, you’ll just create more problems. You get lucky sometimes, I'll give you that. You’re resourceful and clever, albeit sometimes reckless and irrational- but you’re good at what you do.”

“...and that would be?” You took a sip from your mug, the coffee now lukewarm as the winter air had gotten ahold of it.

“Putting others before yourself.”

“If you’re trying to tell me to be more ‘mindful’ of myself, she already had this conversation with me.”

“Yeah, and you’re still dancing around the lesson she tried to teach you.”

Clearing your throat, your eyes drifted to the floor. “I don’t need a therapy session from you of all people, Toji.”

“And I ain’t gonna give you one.” He laughed, and you found your lips twitching upward. “I’m not gonna tell you to stop doin’ what you’re doing. There’s some good in it.” Nodding, he took a step closer. “And it might not be a good thing that you helped me, but I appreciate what you’ve done for me nonetheless.”

“Toji–”

“There wasn’t much of me in your old life, was there?” Toji had survived a long time from what you remembered. Though, like the journey of everyone’s life, time was not forgiving. “The direction that I was heading in before you hired me wasn’t full of daisies. Hell, if I had met the person I was today, I’d do you the favor of getting rid of him myself.”

You hesitated in your response, eyes falling to the floor as you pieced together your thoughts. “You weren’t… my enemy.”

“Let me guess,” Pretending to think about it, his smirk returned to his face. “The same people whose blood is staining our stairs out front?”

Your silence gave him the answer he was looking for. 

He snickered. “Did I at least do some damage?”

“Trauma never leaves.” You found it bittersweet as the words left your mouth. In your past life, Toji’s existence was a turning point for both Gojo and Geto, so ‘doing some damage’ was an understatement. He had fucked them up forever.

“Usually, that’s the goal.” He mused, letting out a light hum. “Even if I was just a cog in the machine, you gave me a chance- If you're questioning whether you’re doing enough, you’ve done more than you should've.”

“I keep fucking–” You cut yourself off, Granny’s words ringing in your ears. “I feel stupid.” 

“Yeah, the worlds supposed to be fucked up. You’re supposed to feel stupid, it’s your first time living.” He paused, giving you a look as if he questioned his statement. “That’s why we exist in the way that we do. To try and fail, then we try again ‘n shit.”

“How eloquently put.” Sarcasm rolled off your tongue like it was second nature.

“I know.” He cracked a smile, but it fell as quickly as it came. “...Nao meant a lot to me too. I don’t want you to feel like you have to heal on your own.”

Your eyes burned, and though you thought it was impossible to cry anymore than you had, tears began to fall. “I… I know that–”

“And about last night,” Pausing, it sounded like he was struggling to form the words. “I…” Grunting, his hand came to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry.”

“...last night?” If you were being honest, the entirety of yesterday had felt like a blur. From the funeral, to Kenjauku’s surprise encounter, to Gojo– Oh. 

He was apologizing for fighting Gojo and Geto.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I should’ve handled things…” Grumbling, he found himself at a loss for words. “...better.”

“I can agree with that.” You supplied nothing else, your tone cold. Fighting in front of the kids– though they seemed amused- probably wasn’t the best thing for them to witness. “Did they have a reason for coming here? Or was it just to shove shit in my face and leave?”

Toji seemed to breathe in awkwardly, throwing you a sideways glance before returning his eyes to the path in front of him. He pursed his lips as he held his hands in front of him and stretched his arms out behind his head, reluctant to tell the full story. 

“They came here to apologize.”

As Toji’s hand cradled Geto’s forehead, blood seeped beneath his nails. 

He had thrown him against the pavement countless times before, but just as he was preparing to repeat the action– Gojo had risen from his collapsed state on the ground.

The older Fushiguro let go of the boy below him, a growl leaving his lips as he turned to confront the one advancing from behind. From the puddle of blood below them, Geto’s voice crackled in desperation as he lifted his hand. 

He struggled to speak, a hoarse cough escaping his throat– with the action, blood coated his lips.

“Wait–” His cry seemed to reach Toji’s ears, and for a moment the older man threw him a glance.

Gojo had taken this moment to hold his hands out in defense, limitless constricting around his body. Toji had got him unsuspectingly before, he wasn’t going to let him touch him again. 

“What is it?” Toji asked roughly through gritted teeth, tongue pushed tightly against the row of enamel that kept it back. “Done getting the shit beat out of you?”

“Listen–” Gojo cleared his throat, and Toji’s eyes shot back forward. 

Toji would never find himself complimenting the blue eyed heir, but this was a good look for Gojo Satoru. 

His hair was ruffled, tousled around and stained with blood. Scuff marks littered his face, and it appeared he had a busted lip. He looked weak, desperate– Toji wondered if he would beg if he kept going.

“Spit it out.”

“We just–” Out of breath, Gojo took one more. “We came to apologize to Y/N.” 

Toji’s eyes narrowed, lip curling upwards into a snarl. “Take that apology and shove it up your ass.”

“She deserves one.” Geto spoke this time, body curling into his knees as he had positioned himself on the top step. Blood seeped from his hairline, nose hidden in his hands. It was surely broken, and Toji felt not an ounce of sympathy.

“How the hell do you know what she deserves?” This seemed to anger him even more, and in response to his tone the two boys countered backwards.

“She deserves a real, sincere apology.” Gojo spoke this time, voice dry. “We fucked up. I fucked up even more and If I never apologize–”

“It’ll weigh on your conscience? You’ll feel bad about it forever?” Toji wrung out his wrist, knuckles worn from the countless punches he had thrown. 

Before the two teens could respond, Toji’s lips formed a fine line before opening back up to speak. “I hope it’s a heavy feeling on your shoulders you never get free from. I hope she gets the farthest she can away from you and learns to forget, and you’re stuck in a forever cycle of guilt. That’s what she deserves.” 

“No offense old man, but I could give less of two shits what you hope or what you think.” It seemed the white haired teen had regained his composure, fear a fleeting thought in his mind. “I came here to tell Y/N she was right about how she felt– and to admit that I was wrong. I was a dick, and i’m not going to let you stop me from telling her how I feel–”

Geto had pushed himself up from his cradled position, feet shuffling to get to Satoru’s side. He was sure Toji wouldn’t appreciate Gojo’s words, but for the first time Suguru hadn’t heard one ounce of sarcasm in his tone. He was telling the truth.

If he was going to pay for his consequences, he would do the same with no complaints.

“Apologize…?” You spoke the word as if it was foreign, brows creasing together in sheer confliction. “Geto and Gojo came to apologize?”

“Somethin’ like that. Spoke a bunch of bullshit about feeling guilty and needing to admit they were wrong.” Pocketing his hands, Toji found himself biting the inside of his cheek. “In the brat’s words; ‘I was a dick, and I'm not going to let you stop me from telling her how I feel’.”

“...What?” It was as if the world around you was falling apart. You couldn’t explain the feeling that settled in your gut, but you were certain it wasn’t a good one. Your mouth fell open, before quickly snapping back shut.

“I know, bold words coming from someone so fucking dumb–”

“He really said that?” 

“What?”

“...Gojo said that?” 

Toji gave you a look similar to ‘you’re fucking kidding me’, before clearing his throat. “He did, but that doesn’t mean we need to forgive him-”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You almost laughed, your lips peeling back from your teeth in a mockery of a smile. “It would take a lot more than just one fucking apology to make me even consider forgiving them.”

He seemed relieved at that, before clearing his throat. “Forgive my curiosity, or don’t, I don't really care– but are you going to forgive them? Eventually?”

“....” Sucking in a breath, you found yourself struggling to form an answer. Even despite her decline, your grandmother offered her support and made it clear that it was your decision to make. Nobody could make it for you, even if that would make things easier. “....Like Granny said, when it comes down to it, I’ll do what’s best for me.” 

He reached out and ruffled your hair, the warmth of his hand reminding you so much of your grandmother. “There ya go, kid.”

The coffee in his hand had long grown cold, the scent alone enough to cause his nose to scrunch. Toji knocked back the remainder of the liquid as he watched you head back into the house, leaving the door ajar for him to follow behind.

As he stared despondently into the bottom of his own mug, a few snowflakes snuck their way into the bottom of the glass. They left behind a brief silhouette before melting into a droplet, the water creating a reflection of himself at the base of the cup.

Within the tranquility of Nao’s zen garden, Toji did his best to clear his head of all thought, but no matter how hard he tried, he could only listen to the sounds of the environment behind him. Due to his nature, his senses had been heightened since birth, both a gift and a curse. 

He could hear everything. Megumi trying his best to cheer up Kaoru, the rest of the kids watch cartoons on full volume, you placing your mug into the sink to be cleaned later– Before he came to this house, he could only ever focus on his own heartbeat. 

He was surrounded by people who not only cared about him, but also depended on his love in return, and that had opened his eyes more than he would like to admit. He felt things differently than how they used to be, and he never could bring himself to tune out their sounds. He would listen, and he would be there even if someone never called. 

In the middle of his reverie, the door leading into the house creaked and for a moment he allowed himself a small fantasy. That when he would open his eyes and head back inside, his friend would be there holding the door for him, shaking her empty mug and telling him to hurry up cause her ‘stories’ were going to be on soon. 

A small smile played on his face as his thumb brushed over the lettering on the side of the mug, turning around to head back inside. Despite the chill creeping up his spine, the peacefulness of this morning was meant to be shared.

Chapter Text

As you walked up the stairs of Jujutsu Tech, you hoped this would be the last time you’d have to return after an abrupt disappearance. 

You hadn’t meant to make it an unhealthy habit, but after your injury and the death of your grandmother– you had missed more days of your third year than you had even been present for. 

Thankfully your teacher and somewhat friend, Chiyo, proved to be very easy going and understanding– and by that you meant; she just had your homework mailed to you. You pitied whoever or whatever it was that had to take the trip to the temple, but appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

If you were being rightfully honest, it wasn’t even the work that had you worried, it was the serious case of FOMO you had developed at the thought of your friends bonding without you. Shoko had kept you informed of the dynamics that formed over time– an example being Naoya’s recent plan to become what Shoko described as the “alpha male”.

 You didn’t bother responding to that, finding her choice of words to be one of exaggeration. You were just excited to see her, and not talk through a phone this time. 

When Toji dropped you off, you had expected him to at least help you carry some of the clothes you brought back with you. He only laughed at your dismay, watching as you picked your bags and stared at him expectantly. You would’ve cursed him out if you weren’t grinning just as much as he was. Being around him for so long, you seemed to adopt his sense of humor. If you were being honest, Toji Fushiguro was the last person you would have imagined becoming so close with. 

Thinking to yourself, you wondered if your dormitory had been fixed since your last visit here. Considering Haibara had ‘accidentally’ left your door crippled and Gojo and Geto had rendered your window useless, you hoped the school wouldn’t bill you for the damages once you graduated.  

Leaving home had been bittersweet, but you couldn’t lie that a part of you was happy to be out of that house. Ever since Granny had died, you couldn't shake the feeling that something or someone was actively watching you. You had brushed it off as paranoia due to your exhaustion, considering you hadn’t slept much at all– but even now, something was seriously different. 

The hallway to your dorm room was eerily quiet, out of the ordinary for a weekend like this. Normally, you could hear your classmates arguing over something irrelevant, followed by the sounds of slamming doors or incoherent screeching– primarily Gojo’s. 

You figured that maybe the rest had gotten together to go out, bemused by the sight of your now fully-functional door frame. You were relieved to at least have some peace and quiet before getting back into the groove of school life.  

Though, that feeling evaporated when you opened the door. 

There, sprawled on top of your bed was none other than Shoko, lazily reading something on her phone as Haibara looked halfway through an unrequited conversation with Naoya. Ijichi, sympathizing with Haibara’s efforts, tried weighing in on the senseless discussion, nudging Naoya’s foot lightly to aid a response. He received a harsh glare and scowl in response, the snap of his fingers following as a warning.

Nanami was standing at your bedside table, hands hard at work on a piece of ribbon. He had taken it upon himself to tie a bow around a vase of flowers, ones you could only assume were from the group in front of you.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the creaking of the door elicited five synchronized head turns in your direction. You nearly jumped, cringing at the horror-movie-esque scene in front of you. Before you could open your mouth to speak, an eruption of greetings and cheers carried your way.

Knocking the wind out of your lungs, Shoko crashed into you, the added weight causing you to bang into the wall. She laughed, garnering a laugh from your throat as your bags fell to the floor. “It’s good to see you–” You managed out, before wrapping your arms around her. 

“It better be, I didn’t babysit these losers just for you to not appreciate my efforts. Also, side note– never expect me to have children. Fuck that idea, this was enough to age me twenty years.” She threw the group of boys behind her a glance, smirking to herself.

“I– We weren’t that terrible! Don’t make up things to make us look bad, Ms. Shoko!” Haibara cried out, walking forward to defend his case. 

“See? He even refers to me as ‘Ms. Shoko’– What am I, an old hag?!”

“You’re starting to sound like it.” Naoya cleared his throat, not having moved from his spot on the floor. “Bitch.”

Pressing your hand to your forehead, you took in a deep breath. While you appreciated their obvious efforts at welcoming you back– this wasn’t what you had imagined your room to feel like. Suffocating– like you had been knocked out of equilibrium. “...It’s nice to see you all. Thank you, for uh… Wanting to see me.”

“We just wanted to make sure you were alright.” Nanami spoke with little to no hesitation, stepping forward with the vase in his hands. “...I’m terribly sorry for your loss.” 

With that, the mood grew tense, a silence blanketing the room and smothering the people within it. Everyone’s breathing was bated– as if the sound of an exhale would make the situation even more awkward. 

“You don’t deserve the things that have happened to you.” Continuing, Nanami placed it down on your desk beside you. “I’m glad to have you back.”

Gaining courage, Haibara grabbed hold of your shoulder. “I know this is probably really overwhelming, and I’m really sorry if this makes it worse, but I'm so happy to see you back here. Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you, I'm always around– usually.” 

Sucking in a breath, you worked a smile onto your face. “Thank you. That means a lot. I’ll definitely take you up on the offer if I feel like I need the help. Also– who’s idea were the flowers?”

Ijichi cleared his throat, eyes throwing Naoya a glance. “I believe it was a collective agreement, but the idea was thrown around by Zenin–”

“Absolutely fucking not.” As if on cue, the boy stood up. “If you’re gonna credit me for the idea, then credit me. These dumbasses couldn’t decide on what you wanted, so I just told them to get what basic sluts like. Flowers.”

“If it weren’t for the fact you called me a basic slut, I’d be shocked, but it all makes sense now.” Snorting, you threw Shoko a glance, and she only smirked in response. “But nonetheless, thank you.” 

“Having him around makes up for the absence of the two other assholes we know.” Shoko shrugged, pulling out her phone. “Not that it’s a good thing.”

You found yourself laughing at that, hand reaching out to touch one of the flowers. “Gonna be honest, I don’t think anyone can make up for their absence.”

“Ehhhh,” Haibara trailed off, sparing Naoya a knowing glance. “It’s pretty close.”

“Shut up.” Naoya scoffed, but his eyes never left you. It was like he was adamant in staring you down, maybe Shoko had a point when she said ‘alpha male’ was his personal motto. 

“Well– We’ll get out of your space so you can settle in.” Nanami was quick to backtrack, clearing his throat. “We’re going to the cafeteria together at dinner, you should join.”

“Yes! That sounds great, please join us!” Haibara called from the door, Nanami leading him out with a light shove. “I can come pick yo–”

“I’ll let you know when.” Shoko shoved him out the door, throwing you a grin over her shoulder. “Yo! Zenin, Ijichi– let's go.”

Naoya had mumbled something incoherent, narrowed eyes now pointed towards the floor. His hands slid into his pockets as he trudged out the door, not waiting for his partner to follow.

Expectantly, you looked at Ijichi, wondering why he hadn’t moved. Your quizzical gaze was soon returned as he cleared his throat, hands coming to pull at his jacket sleeves. 

“I–” He looked like he was having difficulty forming the words, and with a lift of your brow, he cleared his throat again. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but I also wanted to tell you that I’m glad you're back. The upperclassmen talk very highly of you, and I’m looking forward to being your underclassman–”

“You don’t have to be so formal, Ijichi.” The Ijichi that you had known was far more mature than the one sitting in front of you now. It was surely due to him being forced to endure Gojo’s mistreatment for so long, but he had managed to grow a backbone. You had forgotten this version of him as the years passed, but if you had remembered this you would’ve gladly taken the opportunity to make fun of him for it if you did. “We’ll have plenty of time for that later, but I seriously wanna take a nap.”

As if on cue, his eyes widened and he stammered out an apology before heading to the door. As he walked out, you heard a yelp of surprise before Naoya’s voice cut through it. You watched as his hand grabbed ahold of Ijichi’s forearm, jerking him out of the way before slamming your door shut behind him. 

You were finally alone.

Taking this moment to breathe, you reached for the bags you had dropped upon your entrance. Neatly setting them on your desk, you had half the mind to procrastinate and laze the day away. Taking a nap sounded much more fulfilling than putting your clothes away, but you needed to start up a productive routine if you wanted to get back on track.

As you unzipped your bag, you were greeted with the sight of the familiar silver-chain necklace Kenjaku had returned to you. Some part of you felt bitter staring at it, remembering the moment you had shared with your Satoru; a stark contrast to this life. A moment you would probably never have again. 

But that life was gone for a reason, and you had to let it go. 

Undoing the lock on the end of the chain, you brought it around your neck. You fumbled with it for a moment, scoffing to yourself in frustration before turning it around your neck so you could see the clasp in front of you. Successfully hooking it, you let the hourglass drop to your chest before looking up into the mirror. 

When you had first woken up from your coma, you could barely recognize yourself, only worsening with your grandmother’s death. Yet, the days you had spent with your family in peace managed to restore some color to your face. Your hand subconsciously moved to your hair, adjusting it so that you seemed less unkempt. Satisfied with what little you had accomplished, you turned to your bag to continue unpacking.

Clothes, an old photo in a newly bought picture frame, and mace (supplied by Toji, who had also smugly offered you a taser, of which you had vehemently turned down) were among the items you pulled out. You made sure to put them in their correct drawers, closing them neatly before folding the bags and throwing them in the closet. 

Sighing to yourself you pulled out your phone, checking for the time. Your feed was empty, and with a twitch of your nose you pocketed it again. You had a good forty minutes to rest, so you were gladly going to take advantage of that.

A few doors down, a white head poked out from the frame, watching as Naoya and Ijichi had exited your room. For fear of being discovered and evading the explanation for being nosy, Gojo quickly shut his door. If anyone were to ask, he would swear up and down that he wasn’t one to spy, it's just that something about your entourage rubbed him the wrong way. 

And, really, which of these two parties took the liberty of breaking into a defenseless girl’s room?

Biting the inside of his mouth, he turned to face Suguru who was busy reading a book on his bed. His shirt was somewhere on the floor, long forgotten, and for a second Satoru found his eyes straying downwards.

“My eyes are up here.” Suguru looked up from his book, a bored expression on his face. He flipped the page, but it was clear he no longer was interested in reading it. 

“Why? Can’t take the time to admire your lovely forearms anymore?” It was meant to come off facetiously, but there was some truth to his words.

“The only thing you admire is your reflection.” Geto merely sat up, sighing as he shut his book. “What’s bothering you now? First it was the fact that the lighting wasn’t exciting enough, then it was the screeching from the other room.”

“I just– I don't know.”

“You don’t know? That’s a new one.” He chuckled, almost as if he was amused with his boyfriend’s inner conflict. Suguru pushed himself up to sit against the headboard, patting the open space next to him as an invitation. “I could live a long life and you would continue to surprise me.”

Satoru walked over to where his boyfriend was and sat himself down on the edge of the bed, nudging Geto’s shoulder in a show of mock aggravation. “I'm just not sure what to do.”

“Well, that’s a first.” Ignoring the judgmental glare, Geto placed his book to the side and wrapped an arm around Gojo’s waist, pulling him into his chest with no resistance. “Considering Fushiguro-senior isn’t here to interfere this time, we might be able to get our words in.”

“And then what? If she doesn’t forgive us–” Satoru suppressed a frustrated groan, his shoulders stiff even as he did his best to relax within his hold.

“Then obviously we kidnap her.” Suguru joked, pointedly disregarding the thoughtful expression that played across Gojo’s face. “I’m kidding. If she doesn’t forgive us then that’s that. That’s her choice to make.” Suguru had always been the rational one, and it was really starting to piss him off. 

“That voicemail–”

“If that’s your concern, then bring it up to her when you’re alone. Something’s telling me that we weren’t supposed to hear any of that. I do have some questions of my own, but we should try to avoid overwhelming her.” Suguru’s fingers ghost over the back of Satoru’s neck, quickly replaced by a gentle press of his lips. 

“Of course.” Gojo’s response was short, eyes drifting shut at the sensation.

The two sat in silence, neither wanting to disrupt the fragile peace that echoed within the room. Suguru had gone back to reading his book, jaw laying against the white haired boy’s shoulder. Satoru, on the other hand, found himself staring absently at the wall, lost in thought. 

A few minutes had passed within this tranquility before Gojo opened his mouth again. 

“Should we speak to her separately?” 

Sighing, Geto glanced at him with discontent. “I think that would be wise, yes, considering we both have our own grievances to repent for.” 

“Maybe after dinner, we can ask if she’d like to talk.”

Suguru hummed in agreement, quietly lifting one hand to turn the page. “I was thinking the same.” 

40 minutes for a nap felt like a cruel joke when you finally joined the rest in the cafeteria. You were half awake, doing your best to stay calm as your table reached decibels that were only found in concert venues. 

Amidst the chaos, it was clear that there were pairs within the group that possessed their own dynamic. Whereas you and Shoko sat in comfortable silence, throwing a joke or funny story into the mix at some point– the underclassmen had a different idea of what ‘socializing’ looked like.

Haibara was bent over halfway across the table, pushing food to the side to get to Naoya sitting across from him. He wasn’t one for quarreling, but it was something about the young Zenin's callous attitude that just egged him on.

Of course, it was all in good fun, seeing as they were preparing the space for an arm wrestling match. Nanami watched somberly, eyes nearly shut from pure annoyance. He had a cup of coffee in his hands, very similar to the one he had brought for you. 

Ijichi watched nervously, throwing words of encouragement that were laced with uncertainty. While he hated the idea of indecent behavior, it seemed he wanted to support his friend. You felt bad for him– just a little– as Naoya never seemed to return the same respect. 

“So, I was thinking…” Shoko snapped you back to reality, tearing your gaze from the display of masculine dominance. “Ijichi should be skim milk, and Zenin should be…”

“Cappuccino?” Leaning on the palm of your hand, you smiled gently. “Oh– and Chiyo and Izuza are obviously pineapple and cranberry juice.”

“You’re dirty.” Shoko laughed in response. 

“I’m not sure what you two are talking about, but you’re both disgusting.” Nanami shook his head, rolling his eyes. 

Shrugging, you spared him an apologetic look. “Yeah, but you missed me.” 

He didn’t say anything in protest, choosing to shrug and focus on his drink in front of him.

The chatter had calmed down now, both boys at the head of the table now locked in with the competition before them. Shoko had teasingly thrown a bet in Haibara’s favor, letting out a joke about how he had become one of those gym-bro ‘meatheads’. 

Words of encouragement and childish insults(mostly towards Naoya) filled the air, hands slamming on the table as the two boys began to strain. Though your interest had been piqued, you couldn’t bring yourself to give them your full attention. You weren’t sure if it was your exhaustion or an omen– but it seemed the weight on your shoulders still hadn’t lifted. 

“Whaddya think? I’m going with Bowl-cut.”

“Personally, I think that the guy who needs his roots touched up is getting the upper hand.”

That cloud of dread turned into a rainstorm.

Looking up, your eyes almost popped out of your skull when you recognized the blue eyes that stared down at you. Behind you, Naoya and Haibara had paused their battle to yell at the rude newcomers, their match momentarily forgotten. 

“MY ROOTS ARE NATURAL!” Naoya’s voice had turned reedy with its pitch. 

“MY MOM CUT MY HAIR LIKE THIS!” 

You resisted the urge to cringe, turning instead to your last remaining life line. 

Shoko let out a huff in disbelief, pushing herself up from her seat to speak on your behalf– likely to tear into them in your stead– but you spoke before she could.

A small “Hi” slipped out of your tight lipped smile as you waved for your friend to sit down.

The corners of your lips poked into your burning cheeks, offering the boys a default expression of politeness. It wasn’t great, but it was a start. You were trying. 

The two pulled two more chairs from a nearby table, doing their best to fit themselves into your group. “Obi-chan, nice to see you back at school.” Despite yourself, you spared Gojo a quick glance, looking away from the radiance of his bright grin. It would probably give you a headache if you stared at it long enough. 

Inhale, exhale. You looked back at your food– untouched and cold. “It’s nice to be back.” 

The jeers quieted down as your friends threw you hesitant glances, eyes flitting back and forth between the arm wrestling match(the two of which also looked towards you, making for an awkward picture– Naoya and Haibara hand-holding? You shuddered at the thought).

“We’re sorry we didn’t welcome you sooner.” Geto spoke this time, nearly making you jump. Even though he had been there the whole time, he had a habit of falling silent and blending in with his surroundings. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from giving a short laugh. “Well. You tried.”

The awkward silence that followed was disrupted as Nanami stood up, struggling not to crush the cup in his hand. “Don’t worry, we were just finishing up.” Tensions were rising, and if they got any higher, you feared for everyone's wellbeing. You weren’t sure which was scarier– Nanami being bothered by the two of them, or the latter having no issue with starting a fight in the cafeteria. 

“Oh, don’t rush.” Gojo smiled ear to ear, leaning over your head to look down at the second year. “We were hoping to join.”

Nanami’s eyebrow twitched as he spoke through gritted teeth. “I don’t know if that's the best idea–” 

“No, this is fine.” You shook your head dismissively, lifting your fork to push around the food in your bowl, a signal to the group to be normal. You weren’t sure why you spoke up, it wasn’t like you were friends with them– you shouldn’t be stopping Nanami from kicking their ass like Toji had. But a part of you wanted to experiment, to see what would happen if you let them back into your life.

A slam echoed from the end of the table, and as you jerked to look over– Naoya had won. With a groan from Shoko, she passed ten dollars to Ijichi, who looked quite proud of his friend. You snuck a glance at Haibara, expecting to see disappointment on his face– but he was entirely distracted by your situation.

Gojo and Geto shifted their chairs to take up the space on either side of you, whilst Nanami stood nearby, arms crossed and cup demolished. Shoko remained seated but tension locked up her frame as she stared you down, waiting for the go ahead. You were mentally kicking yourself, not realizing how fast they would take up your invitation. 

“So, Obi-Chan.” Gojo leaned his elbow on the table, resting his head against the palm of his hand. “How are you feeling? The last time we saw you–”

“You got your ass beat.” Concluding his sentence, you nodded along. “Yes, I remember.”

His face screwed up into a look of disagreement, but you both knew you were right. “I was going to say that you looked like shit.”

This got the attention of everyone at the table, and with a clear of Geto’s throat, he tried to backtrack. “What he means to say is; we’re concerned about you. It was short notice when we went to visit you. We should have waited for a better time, but we wanted to see you.”

“Oh, you know, nothing to be too concerned about.” The words you spoke were laced with sarcasm, and you resisted the urge to bite your tongue among the growing irritation. Yes, you were in the right to be angry– but you didn’t want to be rude. “Just dealing with a lot. Thanks for worrying, Geto.”

Looking over at Gojo, he looked halfway constipated. You didn’t know any other way to describe it, but you could tell he was itching to say something. You sighed, knowingly. “What is it?” 

“I– WE need to speak with you.” 

Glancing at Geto, you sighed. Turning back to look at his counterpart, you gestured to the people around you. “Was this the best place you could think of?”

“Well– No,” His blue eyes shifted over to Suguru, a nervous laugh escaping him. “It’s kinda a personal thing. For the both of us. I just wanted to do my part now, while I knew where you were.”

Struggling to not speak too loudly, you raised your voice a little. “Is this about an apology?” It appeared Shoko’s attention caught on to the last word you had said, and with a sudden yawn, she announced she needed to head to bed.

If anyone knew anything about Shoko, it was that she had crippling insomnia and sleep wasn’t an option. This was a message, one that the table of underclassmen clearly understood as ‘lets get out of here.’ No one really said anything as they stood up, throwing you sorry glances. Naoya let out a sound of disapproval, throwing the Gojo Heir a look that could kill– It seemed he wanted to start problems.

Leaving the three of you alone, you found yourself biting the inside of your cheek. You had thought a lot about this moment since Toji had told you their intentions, but you hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. But you should’ve known that in this life you got no breaks, and not a second to breathe. 

“Get to it then.” Cutting the tension like a knife, you brought your leg up onto your seat, knee pressed into your chest . “Who’s going first?”

Geto let out a small laugh, his smile sickeningly beautiful. “Satoru was practically foaming at the mouth to get down here and do it now, so It’s only right that I go first.” This elicited a cry of shock from the topic of conversation, before Geto’s gaze hardened. “You like to talk a lot, I want to get straight to the point. It’s only right that I do this now.”

Satoru grumbled something in animosity before standing up, clutching his phone close to his side. You didn’t pay him any mind as he took the long walk out of the cafeteria, finally leaving the two of you alone.

You were oddly nervous now, eye’s lowering to the ground as you began to pick at your nail beds.

He spoke your name, invoking your gaze to meet his own. He said it in a way that brought shivers up your spine, and with a bite of your lip and a clear of your throat, he continued. 

“I feel it’s only right that I be completely transparent with you, instead of behaving like nothing's bothering me. While you’re completely valid in the way you feel, and I have been the absolute worst friend in this situation– there are things that I have to apologize for. I'm hoping you’ll give me the time.”

“...Of course.”

“Let me make something clear, if I had known that kissing you was going to ruin the relationship we had, I would’ve never done it.” 

You don’t know why this seemed to strike a chord in you, the breath you were taking caught in the back of your throat. That hurt to hear, even though you agreed with him.

“Back at the village, I was going through something unexplainable– I have never felt so lost and angry before, and if you hadn’t been there–” He cut himself off, eyes looking deep into yours. “Well, I’m sure you know what would’ve happened.” 

Choking back a breath, you merely cleared your throat and nodded. It seemed he knew more than he led on. 

“That being said, you saved me. You did. And I had a moment of realization that you’re someone I deeply appreciate and want in my life. I have no excuse for kissing you in a vulnerable position of trust, and that’s only one thing I feel I need to apologize for.”

“...Suguru–” You spoke his name for the first time in forever, and it felt foreign on your tongue. “Listen–”

“Let me finish.” Sitting forward, he clasped his hands together. “After that, you grew distant, and of course I was oblivious as to the reason why. You shoved me and the others away, and with no explanation at all, you got involved with things I couldn’t protect you from.” He was undoubtedly talking about Sukuna and Kenjaku. “You could’ve died, and I would’ve never gotten to speak to my friend again.”

Sighing, your breath shook as you brought your hand up to push a stray hair from your face. “I wish I could tell you I was sorry for running off like that, but it was important to me. I had to do something, and even if it meant facing dangers I wasn’t prepared for– I just had to.”

“You have us. You’ve never had to do anything alone.” He was trying to reason with you, but it was clear he didn’t understand. How could he? Your whole existence in this life was a lie. You weren’t the girl you were before, you weren’t clueless nor a bystander in the events that transpired– 

“And when we were in the hospital, waiting for you to come out of surgery, I spoke to this woman.” He was talking about Yuki. “She said the reasoning behind you distancing yourself, and doing these suicidal missions was because of me. My actions drove you away because you felt responsible for me– and It made me wonder why the hell you cared so much in the first place.” He pulled back, but his gaze never wavered. “But I think I understand now.”

Confusion was written all over your face, you found yourself unsure of what to say. “And... you understand how?”

“Satoru will get into that on his own time, but that discussion is not mine to speak on.” Avoiding your question entirely, he continued on. “I’m sorry for letting someone else's words get in between us, I should’ve come to see you and correctly handled the situation when you were conscious and aware. I made you feel horrible, and for a while I was okay with that. I thought that if I ignored you like you ignored me, life would go back to normal for you. I wouldn’t be something you had to ‘take care’ of. But it wasn’t like that. You helped me even when you could’ve let me fall, and for that, I owe you more than my life. I owe you everything.” 

Reaching forward, his hand grasped onto yours. Squeezing it, his eyes were spiraling with feeling- like bottomless puddles that held nothing but sincere emotion. Regret, sorrow, and love. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” He moved towards you, and with a firm action– he hugged you. “You are someone important to me, and If I ruined that– that is a consequence I'll have to accept. I meant everything I said. I cherish you, and I should’ve shown it the right way.”

You were speechless. Utterly speechless. With Geto, you had expected an apology that was properly organized, like it was an essay assignment he had rehearsed the night before- but this was almost too much. It was so real, like everything he said was what you needed to hear. 

“So this time, let me show it.” 

He was asking for forgiveness.

“If they return the feeling, you’ll know when to forgive.”

“...But how?”

“You’ll do what’s best for you.” 

Sighing, you returned the hug as you wrapped your arms around him. “My forgiveness is something you’re going to have to earn.” 

“I can do that.”

Gojo Satoru believed he was going crazy. He wasn’t hearing or seeing things, no, it had been the exact opposite responsible for his paranoia. Silence.

As he waited outside the lunch room doors, anxiously tapping his foot to the sound of humming vending machines, he felt nothing but fear. Pure adrenaline presented itself in soft shakes and constant swallows of saliva, and the unfamiliar sound of blood pounding in his ears was enough to drive him insane. 

He was used to a life where too much was happening at once, and in a state of chaos, he could find control. When you were the strongest amongst common men, there was nothing to be afraid about. But waiting for something as simple as a conversation, where he wasn’t promised acceptance on the other side– that scared him shitless. 

What would happen in a world where he wasn’t forgiven? He was no Suguru, he couldn’t express his feelings strongly in the form of words. He wasn’t sure he could express them correctly at all. Between the insecurities he swore that he didn't have, and the clear looming threat that he wasn’t the center of your attention– he deemed a world like that to be hell. 

As if his thoughts came to crash around him, the door before him opened to reveal the man of comparison. He always envied Suguru’s ability to look indifferent in situations like this. Yes, while it was easy for himself to hide his true emotions behind jokes, there was always a small feeling that something was wrong. 

He couldn’t tell if things had gone well for Suguru, and that's what scared Gojo even more. You were more likely to forgive Geto over himself, and if he had failed to successfully gain your trust back- it was surely game over for him. He had border-line terrorized you in that hospital room, and the voicemail he received in return was enough to seal the idea that you absolutely despised him.

“How’d it go?” His usual, sarcastic smile crept its way on his face. To anyone who didn’t know him, they would think the expression was completely natural- but Suguru saw the way the sides of his mouth twitched. 

Shrugging, Geto grabbed a hold of his shoulder and pushed him forward. “It went. Now stop wasting time.” 

Stepping into the room with you, he watched as your once stoic expression faltered. Were you fearing this conversation just as he was? What was your reasoning? At least in this exchange, your dignity wasn’t the one that was on the line. You had the chance to come back from this the same as you were before, damaged, but alive.

Satoru Gojo had never experienced rejection before in his life, and he was sure if he did, he would die. 

Unlike Suguru, Gojo had taken it upon himself to sit on the opposite side of the table. Across from you, the distance would act as a shield. He could see your face, your reactions– but you wouldn’t come close, as much as he wished you would.

Clearing your throat, he noticed how the skin around one of your nails had begun to bleed. If this was any normal situation, Gojo wouldn’t have spared it a second glance, but the color red seemed to haunt him wherever he went. Moving his gaze up, he recognized the necklace that hung between your collarbones. He hadn’t given that to you, in fact, he had lost it back at the shrine. 

Gojo opens his mouth in a pathetic display of remorse before sputtering out a small. “So, Toji is much stronger than we thought, huh?” 

You raised your eyebrow, lips quirked up into a disbelieving smile. “Huh?”

Seeing your reaction, he continued. “Just as Suguru and I rolled up to deliver the best apology ever, that bitch rocked my shit.”

“Alright.”

He paused for a moment, observing your face closely. “It was a really good one too– Flowers, tears, the whole shabang.” 

“So...?” Goading him to continue, you made a gesture with your hand. “What’s your case?”

“My case?” Sensing the irritation building under your skin, he faltered before gritting his teeth, his voice growing colder.  “Well, due to the change in scenery, we had to scrap that.”

You weren’t sure of the feeling of confliction that settled in your stomach, sighing to yourself, you cleared your throat. “Apathetic as ever, Gojo.” 

“Was it true? What you said?” It came out crude, and you found yourself taken aback. “Hey, while we’re at it– How many times have we had this conversation already?” 

“...Excuse me?” 

You watched as he pulled out his phone, fingers shaking as he pushed the buttons to scroll through his call history. Pulling up a voicemail, it was as if time had stopped completely. Your eyes widened, and with a quick motion you moved to stand. You were in complete disbelief. 

“In this voicemail I received from you in the hospital, you said a lot of things. It’s reversed, but I went ahead and burned it into a cd and listened to it. Multiple times, start to finish, over and over. I probably have it memorized.” 

You were visibly shaken, not expecting this ‘apology’ to turn into an interrogation. How had you missed that? You swore you had gone back to erase it– so how the fuck did he have it? Could it have been the fact you were exhausted? You had never experienced time lag before, where one timeline would bleed into another– Did it have to do with your Grandmother dying? Or Ichiro for that matter? Was the time behind your family's power experiencing the same struggles you were?

He let the voicemail play, and while it wasn’t coherent due to its reversed speech- it was definitely your voice speaking back to you. His expression was void of any emotion that could hint to what he was feeling, and it was killing you. You weren’t sure what to say, considering he had heard everything.

"I used to think you were just weird." Shutting his phone, he put it away. “When you cried that day in class, did you know that was the first time you really went out of your way to speak to me? You even called me by my first name.”

You didn’t speak, so he took it as a sign to continue.

 “We didn’t necessarily get along before that, so I thought you just really had a bad dream– but then you kept saying things that didn’t make sense, or doing things I wouldn’t expect from you. You seemed to be waaay smarter, and I'm not discrediting your knowledge, but we both know that isn’t your strong suit.”

Scoffing, you opened your mouth to disagree, but were interrupted by his hand shooting out in front of you.

“...I got comfortable with this new version of you–” He seemed to struggle for the words, phone falling from his hand onto the table.  “I enjoyed having you around. Only for you to completely pull away from me and disappear. The moment I went to talk to you, you were missing with weird ass documents and shit on your desk. I found you at the stupid shrine, fighting that curse user–” Exasperated, his hand rubbed at his face.

“I thought I had lost you for good. Suguru had already kissed you, and as much as I wanted to pretend that it didn’t bother me–” Cutting himself off, he seemed like he was out of breath. “It did.” 

“I thought it was because he was kissing someone else, but even he had to make me realize that it was because it was you. I wasn’t jealous of you, I was jealous of Suguru.” Defeated, his eyes never found yours. 

“That’s why I kissed you. So you’d feel similar to how I did–”

“You’re an ass, you know that?” Cutting through his speech, you rested the palms of your hands on the table. “You should’ve just told me how you were feeling.”

“No offense, but I'm not the only one keeping things secret. I think it goes without saying, me and Geto are not the only ones at fault here–”

“Oh please, despite what you heard, I still have not deserved what you two have done to me.”

“But if you came to us and explained what was going on, maybe we could’ve helped you--”

“What if I didn’t want your help?”

“Sure looked like you needed it.”

“You need to grow up and realize that you are not a victim of anything in this situation. I do not owe you an explanation for my actions, and I don’t need you fighting my battles for me–”

“Well considering I died, you don’t have to worry about that–”

Cutting him off, you found yourself wincing at the memory. He had no idea what he was talking about. “You can’t just fucking say that.” 

“Why? Because it’s true?”

“That’s the whole reason why I'm here!” For some reason, you recognized the way his eyes widened in shock. You hadn’t expected to react that way either. “I want to protect the people I care about. I care about you, and I care about Geto– I can’t just let you die. You have no idea what it's like.”

“...This world is a game to you. You manipulate situations to fit your narrative and I don't care where you came from, but I never gave you permission to control me– Suguru might thank you for it, but I won't." He furrowed his brows, the lines around his mouth pulled taught. He had the audacity to pout? 

“You’re not hearing me, Gojo. You’re not a game to me–” 

“No, I am hearing you. I just don’t agree.”

“You never agree with me.”

“Then how the hell did we end up engaged? Were we this miserable before?”

“No, we worked out because I loved you.” You felt the air in the room grow stale, eyes catching the way his jaw locked into place as the words left your mouth. “We had no one but ourselves. I was the only one who understood you– I saw you.” Clenching your teeth, your fists clenched at your sides. “But I'm not sure I even love you anymore.” 

“You never loved me.” Gojo’s eyes softened as he shook his head, pupils trained in the way your hands fell to your sides. “I'm not your Gojo, I'm me. You can’t change that.”

Silence filled the cafeteria, and for once– you understood what he was trying to say. You couldn’t change this Gojo to fulfill the absence the other one had left. He was his own person, and while this version of him had hurt you– it was clear your expectations weighed heavy on his shoulders. You saw him clearly this time. This Gojo was your friend, not your fiance. 

“...I–”

Cutting you off, it seemed he had a similar idea of breaking the silence. “I must’ve been fucking awesome in bed though– Spoiler alert, I still am.” 

You found yourself choking, eyes wide as you covered your mouth. Your face felt hot, blinking rapidly in an effort to blink your shocked expression away. “I did not need to hear that–”

If one thing stayed consistent with Gojo, it was his comfortability with ruining awkward conversations. 

“Sometimes you have to hear things you don't want to hear.” You knew deep down he was referring to this conversation, and for once, you found yourself agreeing with him. 

“...I tried to reverse it.” Sighing, you watched as he relaxed, brows perking upward at your abrupt statement. “The voicemail.” You clarified for him, and as his eyebrows lowered, you watched realization form on his face. “I didn’t want you to know about this, and I most certainly didn’t mean for you to feel this way. I sent it because I was pissed at you for being a selfish asshole– and I can’t lie, that's what you are. I got so caught up in preventing your death, I forgot about all the other shit in your life. I thought I could stop it all, but I couldn’t.”

You took a breath before continuing. “I went in convinced I could do this on my own, but I was wrong. I hurt your feelings along the way and got you caught in the crossfire.”

“I was wrong too. I must’ve put a lot of senseless pressure on you, instead of helping you– I caused a lot of issues out of my own spite and expected you to be okay with it.” Laughing to himself, he shrugged. “I guess I expected too much from someone who’s just human.” 

You couldn’t tell if he was being facetious, or dead serious. 

As your lip curled up in a look of annoyance, he was quick to hold his hands out in rebuttal. “What I'm trying to say is– Maybe you don’t have to face this alone. You know what you’re doing, sure– but you can trust me to take care of myself.”

“Can I?”

“Well, obviously if things didn’t end well in our past life– we’ll just have to work together to make sure it doesn’t happen again. You can trust me on that. Just because I died in one universe doesn’t mean I'm useless in this one. While you’ve gotten away with hiding this little secret from me, I still figured it out– with little struggle, mind you. I am the strongest, don’t forget that.” 

“...Even with you two involved, I still want this to be kept a secret.”

“Call me a hypocrite, but as long as I'm in on it, I don’t see why anyone else has to know.” Throwing you his same old smile, you found a shiver running up your spine. “Ooh, and totally random– but when will I start being called ‘Satoru’ again? No offense to Suguru, but it’s getting old only hearing him say it–”

“You’re going to have to work for that privilege– but from where I'm standing, we’re working together on preserving the world, not our friendship.” 

“Ah, so your friendship is a side quest…” You recognized the expression on his face– the look of pure determination. It was the look of someone who did not know defeat, and took every ‘no’ as a challenge. “Well, if I find the time in my schedule, I’ll think about making time for you.” Winking, he sat up from the table, swinging his leg behind him as he turned away from you. 

“Was that supposed to be funny?”

“No, it’s just meant to piss you off. I prove to be good at that, among other things”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I dunno… I’ve heard some crazy shit lately. At least one of us is being true to their personality.” Snickering, he pocketed his phone. “I mean, I don’t even know who you are anymore–” Sarcasm laced his tone, a playful taunt thrown over his shoulder. 

“Oh, seriously? Fuck you.” Scoffing, you rolled your eyes in feigned offense. There was no point in finding the negatives in a situation like this.

“Don’t threaten me with something you won’t do, Obi-chan. You’ll get me all excited–” You weren’t sure when this conversation changed, but something about it felt oddly familiar. As if the issues that had existed between you two suddenly didn’t matter that much– 

“Do me a favor and suck my dick.” Smirking, you pushed a loose strand of hair out of your face and pulled away from the table. Heading towards the exit, you threw a quick glance Gojo’s way to find he was hot on your trail. 

“Wait, wait hold up–” His arm came out stretched, but stopped just before grabbing you.

“Yes…?”

“The necklace.” He didn’t bother gesturing to it, as his crystal blue orbs honed on the object instead. To anyone else, it would probably look like he was making a pass at your chest. “I lost it, the night of the shrine incident–”

You froze, weighing your options on how to respond. For sure he was going to interrogate you on how it found its way in your possession, but were you really supposed to tell him the truth about Kenjaku? It would be counterproductive to keep it a secret, considering now the two of you were supposed partners in crime– but a part of you wanted to keep that moment to yourself.

The last moments you had with your brother. A favor from the one enemy who certainly would never prove himself to be that merciful again. 

Opening your mouth to speak, you uttered the beginning of a word– but it wasn’t long till he beat you to it.

“Did I ever get to give it to you in your past life?”

You sucked in a breath, and for once you didn’t try to hide the hallowed expression that worked itself on your face. Your eyes were blown wide, color drained from your cheeks– breath shallow. A relentless, abundance of pain flared up into your chest, and once again you were reminded of your grief. You hadn’t expected such a question at all.

The cold air bit at your skin as you pulled at the edges of your skirt, trying to cover your legs to no avail. Gojo had dragged you up to the rooftop of Jujutsu Tech for what he claimed to be a romantic outing, the two of you perching on the edge to look out across the campus. The wind brushed through your hair, and as you reached up to hold it back from getting in your face, the moon flickered through your fingers. Blinding you for only a moment, you shrunk back at the feeling of a jacket falling over your shoulders. 

Looking up, you smiled at your partner as he moved to sit down beside you, white tufts of hair reflecting the light from the sky. You held the jacket close, its tattered drawstrings hanging from the hood. As you thought about it– this wasn’t really his jacket anymore. You had worn it so many times, you were convinced he had essentially assigned it to you. 

You both had begun teaching at Jujutsu Tech only a few years prior, and as if the faculty couldn’t get enough of you two from your four years as students– they were in for a wild ride for this next chapter of your life. You weren’t the strongest sorcerer–  not by a long shot– but you had an ability many other people sought for. The power to ignore Gojo Satoru.

Ironic, considering the situation you found yourself now– embracing the warmth his body provided as you both broke a few rules on your faculty contracts. 

“And they say chivalry is dead...” Musing, you laid your head on his shoulder, breathing in the smell of his cologne. If one thing stayed consistent alongside his half assed attitude, it was that he always smelled so damn good. 

Laughing, his hand came up to ruffle your hair. “It’s not dead, people just stopped believing in it.” 

You made a sound in protest, curling your nose as you swatted his arm off of you. “You’re going to mess up my hair if you keep that up–”

With a quick motion, his arm snaked around your middle, teeth ghosting over your neck before biting down gently. You gasped, hands flailing before settling on grabbing the hem of your skirt. 

“I can do a lot more than just mess up your hair…” His voice was low, a bare whisper that made your whole body shudder. It was as if his voice rendered you defenseless, mere words enough to make you feel like you were naked under his stare. 

Pulling away from him, your hand reached up to hold his face. You watched as his face softened at your touch, eyes closing momentarily before opening back up to meet your gaze. You thumb traced over the skin of his bottom lip, which warranted a gradual smile from him before he kissed the pad of your finger.

He didn’t waste time in grabbing your face, lips gently meeting your own as his hand crept into the jacket he had given you. You went to shrug it off, hands sliding off his face to pull at the collar of his shirt. 

Shockingly, he stopped, hand darting into the jacket's pocket before falling back against the roof. 

“What was that?” You blinked repeatedly, dumbfounded at his sudden disinterest.

“Ooooh y’know,” Propping himself up on his elbows, he patted the spot beside him for you to lay down. “Something shiny caught my eye–” Opening his other hand, you watched as a silver chain dangled in front of you. Your eyes followed the link of the necklace down to its centerpiece, an hourglass. 

“What is this…?”

“What, are you like... suddenly dumb now? It’s–”

“You ass.” Shaking your head, your hand reached out to touch it. “I meant like–  is this for me?”

“No, it’s for Shoko.” You rolled your eyes. “Yes, it’s for you.”  

Scoffing in disbelief, he laid it in the palm of your hand. 

“An hourglass?”

He gave you a smug grin. “I saw it and thought of you.”

“Oh, huh?” You raised a brow. 

“Y’know ‘cause time and all.” 

You thrust the chain into his hand, turning so your back was to him and lifting your hair off your shoulder. “Well, it’s only right that you have the honors.” 

You heard a short intake of breath before you felt the warmth of his hands encircle your neck. You held your breath as you heard the click of the clasp, the chilled metal causing you to shiver involuntarily. Your hand sought out the charm as its weight settled on your chest, clutching it and turning your head back to Gojo. 

Before you could face him, you flushed as you felt his tongue trailing up the nape of your neck. “Satoru–“

He ignored you, wrapping his arms around yours and locking you into his embrace as he kissed up the side of your neck, the occasional bite sneaking in as you giggled at the sensation. 

“Oh, you’re a bitch.”

“Your bitch.” He loosened his hold, reaching a hand up to twist your face towards his, his mouth claiming your’s as his own. 

“Yes.” Smiling sadly, you found that the moment between you felt different than any other you had shared before. You weren’t just ‘Obi-chan’ or a girl marked by the past sins of her clan– you felt like you. He had finally seen you. “In fact, it was the last thing I had of you.”

Chapter Text

Haibara stood nervously outside of your dorm room, occasionally pacing back and forth as he ran through the script that he had rehearsed with an unwilling Kento. He had been mustering up the courage to knock on your door, pausing the action halfway each time, one hand clutched in the other as the words failed him. That always seemed to be the case when you were involved. 

He had attributed the fluttering feeling in his chest to puberty the year before, but it had only grown worse with time. Every conversation with you led to stuttering words and clammy palms. It was embarrassing to say the least. 

Yet there had been a breaking point for him after the past year. He couldn’t stand to see you so… melancholic? Was that the right word? 

You had always been a solitary being, but he had known you long enough to be able to tell something was wrong. Beyond that, he recognized the emotions brewing within him to be only one of two things. Gastritis… or love. 

No matter how much Kento had rolled his eyes at him, telling him that a little puppy crush wasn’t worth jeopardizing your relationship, Haibara knew what he felt was the genuine article. He very much like-liked you. 

Curling his fist, he reached out his hand to knock a knuckle against your door– but once again found himself pausing. What was going to happen beyond this door was unknown to him, and that thought alone was enough to turn him to stone. 

He was crushing on you. Hard. 

In the midst of his dilemma, a door down the hall opened. He whipped his head around to meet Geto Suguru’s gaze. 

Haibara threw his hands in front of him in a warding gesture before realizing that there was no point in doing so. He wasn’t debriefed on the whole situation, but he knew enough that what he thought you and Geto had wasn’t anything close to what he was feeling. 

Clearing his throat, he did his best to relax his posture, sliding his hands up into his hair before settling them on his hips and nodding at the taller man. “Geto-senpai! How are you doing this morning?”

“Hello?” Geto replied, raising his brow as he rested his hand on his hip before flicking his eyes at your door. “Does Y/N know you’re here?”

Without meaning to, the denial flew out of his mouth. “No!”

The hall grew dead silent in the wake of his exclamation.

“Well, now she does.” His senpai retorted, letting out a dry laugh. He walked past Haibara, leaning down briefly before leaning down to whisper in his ear. “Your fly is down, by the way.”

Yelping, he whipped his head down to look at his zipper, only to find no issue with it. 

Turning the corner down the hall, Geto called out with a laugh, “Made you look!”

Haibara clenched his fists, biting his lip in rage. “You–!”

“Yu?” 

Blood rushed to his ears as he turned to face you. “Youuuuu-?”

He hadn’t heard the door open, too caught up in Geto’s words to notice. It was evident that you had just woken up, your clothes slightly crumpled as you wiped at your eyes. “What are you doing here this early?”

Dazed by your beauty, he checked his watch. “It’s 10 am?”

“And? It’s Saturday.”

Shaking his head, Haibara continued without acknowledging that. “I, um, came to see if maybe you were available tonight? There's a two for one deal at that ice cream parlor you like– and I thought maybe we could go together?”

“Oh? Lemme text Shoko, is Kento coming?” You turned to grab your phone but he grabbed your arm and turned you back towards him. 

His tongue seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth as his mouth grew dry. “I thought maybe we could go together? Like… on a date?” 

Your mouth dropped open as your eyes widened, hand coming up to rest on Haibara’s hand in a misleading gesture. “Excuse me?” 

The words he had been repeating all morning failed him as he scrounged for them. “I’ve liked you– I mean, I’m asking you out– on a date?” 

“Oh–” You cut yourself off, breaking his grip as you raised your hand to your mouth. “Uh, that’s–”

“Oh my god! It’s 10 am on a Saturday. Who's out here yelling?” A disgruntled voice followed the slam of a door drawing their attention to a lanky, very shirtless teen. “Obi-chan? What are you doing up so early?”

Haibara searched your face as you seemed to scramble for a reply. Did Gojo make you nervous? “Well, I–”

He puffed his chest up, there was just no way Satoru was going to interfere with his plan. “I was asking her on a date!” 

The playful quirk of Gojo’s mouth fell as he stared at Haibara. “ You ?”

“Yes, me?” Haibara questioned, his confidence draining in the face of his adversary. “I mean– if Y/N wants to go–”

“‘Y/N’.” Gojo scoffed, turning to you. “He gets to call you by your first name?”

Haibara watched with a sinking feeling as your attention was drawn from him. 

“I never told you that you couldn’t call me that? If anything I’ve encouraged it, Obi-chan sucks.” 

Panicking, he turned back to you. “So, do you want to go now?” 

Your eyes met his, bewildered by the change in expression. “Now? At least let me get ready–” 

“You’re seriously going with him?” Gojo scoffed in disbelief, not sparing the second year a second glance.

Haibara stood up straight as he reached for your hand, shaking it once after his brain quit working. “I’m just gonna grab cash from my dorm!” 

Your face scrunched up momentarily in disbelief. “I’ll just throw something on then?”

Joy flooded his heart as he nodded vigorously. “Yay!” He coughed. “I mean- I’m ecstatic. I’ll meet you outside?” 

“I guess?”

“Ok!” Haibara rushed off, pointedly ignoring Gojo’s disgruntled commentary blaring behind him. 

Turns out luck was on the other side of the door. Haibara had a date!

 After that awkward proposition, Gojo had sprinted to your door, slamming shut just in time with his sudden pounding. Not that any noise he could make would matter at this point, you had surely woken up any late sleepers on your side of the dormitory with your yelling. But who could blame you? It wasn’t every day that one of your innocent underclassmen showed up to ask you on a date. 

At the memory of Haibara’s red face, you slapped your hands over your cheeks in embarrassment. 

Sinking to the floor, you listened as Gojo’s high pitched shrieks retreated back into his own room, pausing momentarily before coming back full force, led by a desperate call for “SUGURU”. 

What the FUCK just happened?! 

Yu Haibara, the sweet underclassman who would’ve been dead last year if it wasn’t for you– was (thankfully) not dead, and instead– was asking YOU on a date. What the fuck were you supposed to do?! 

Nothing in your past nor your present had hinted at such a change in events. Had you not paid close enough attention to your relationship? You hadn’t been at school in forever, and you were sure nothing he did was beyond that of a friend. Of course, he had always been the skittish type around you– but the more you thought about it, he displayed characteristics of confidence around other people. 

Had you helped him so much that he developed a feeling of codependency? Or was he just grateful for the time and patience you showed him?

What if he asked you to date him at the end of this ‘outing’? What would he do if you said no? What was his mental state like–?! You had never even thought to ask. He always seemed like such a bright eyed kid, with little to nothing behind those round beady eyes– but he wasn’t that kid anymore, and you had sorely overestimated that. 

With as many issues you had tearing your life up, you hadn’t given him a second thought. 

At that revelation, guilt spread through your core. You hadn’t even given him a chance and you were already planning on saying no. Speaking of which– how would he even react to that? You prayed to god he had a stronger mental state than the rest of your male friends, considering even the littlest bit of a change was enough to throw them into a manic episode. 

What if he fell so deep into depression that he hurt himself? Would he even do that? You didn’t know, frankly you didn’t know much of anything about him at this point. Who’s to say you wouldn’t like him?

…

Who were you kidding, you were in NO place to even consider dating someone– much less someone so innocent and kind as Yu Haibara. You were used to dating people with issues, like Gojo. 

Moving forward, you neglected your awareness of the desk that sat near your doorway. Slamming your foot into the wooden post, your face screwed into one of despair before a scream was elicited from your throat.

Sighing to yourself, your hands came up to rub against your face as you slid down the frame of your door. Making contact with the ground, you groaned loudly into your palms as you brought your knees up to your chest. You were making this more difficult than it needed to be, you needed to start allowing yourself to have fun . 

Slowly slipping from your spot against the door, you flopped to the ground on your side. Leveling out, you only stared at the ceiling for what felt like ages- but with a quick glance of the clock, that time only proved to be five minutes. 

Sighing, you brought yourself up off the ground, bare feet scraping against the hardwood floors. 

In situations like these, it was best to make the most of it. 

Ten reps into his workout, Geto found himself to be enjoying the silence in the school’s gym. Usually on weekends, he would find himself throwing hands with other students just to have a machine for 4 minutes, but it seemed that the rest of his peers were still sleeping peacefully.

Now, it wasn’t that he disliked people, no. He just appreciated the lack of tension that floated in the air when they weren’t trying to compete with him. Of course, kids like Nanami and Haibara kept to themselves– but Suguru didn’t necessarily enjoy sharing his workout time with Satoru– or the likes of Naoya Zenin.

Lowering the bench press onto the handles above him, he slowly exhaled through his nose. Bringing himself up to sit, his eyes flickered to his phone on the bench beside him, buzzing with his boyfriend’s face illuminated on the screen. He had tried to ignore it, believing that such a device would distract him from doing his best today, but curiosity was eating away at his brain. 

Reaching over, he did a double take at the name displayed at the top of his screen. Satoru had been calling him. In fact- he had called him a total of 37 times in the past 10 minutes. 

Worried, he accepted the call, not ready for the sounds that escaped the speaker into his ear. Reeling back on the bench, the phone clattered to the ground– before quickly vibrating in time with the frequency Gojo was screaming at. 

“SUGURUHEASKEDHEROUTHEASKEDHEROUTITSHAPPENING–” Dealing in a sharp inhale, Gojo didn’t waste another second before repeating similar statements, all of which flew directly above Suguru’s head as he tried to make sense of what he had said moments prior. “SUGURUDOYOUHEARME?! IT'S A CODE BLACK– A CODE BLACK!”

Code Black, a term Satoru had invented in discussing the status of your love life. As pointless as Suguru found it to be in the moment, he was now fully aware of just what Gojo was speaking about.

Someone had asked you out on a date. 

“Let me guess…” Unamused, Suguru stood up from his station, deciding that he had done enough for the day. The determined mindset was long gone, now replaced by an unwelcome feeling of exhaustion and annoyance. “Haibara?”

“YOU KNEW AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?!”

“I didn’t know anything, Satoru, calm down.” Scoffing, he picked up his bag before he threw it over his shoulder, free hand reaching down to collect his water bottle. “I passed him this morning, waiting outside her door."

“Like a creep?”

“Yeah, it reminded me of you.”

Silence greeted him in response, before the sound of shallow breathing returned to the speaker. “That’s weird, we should tell someone– or maybe even have a chat him–”

“Satoru, considering we’ve trespassed into her room multiple times to put nails into her windowsill… I don’t think we can say anything about this.” 

“But– but–” Defeat laced Gojo’s tone, akin to the whine of a kicked, starving puppy.

“Calm down. Seriously. He’s not a threat.” 

“Well, of course I know that–”

“So then stop acting like he’s something to be scared of, you’re the strongest , start acting like it.” 

A groan was elicited on the other side of the phone, before the call abruptly disconnected. Seems he had either struck a nerve with the Gojo heir, or had finally knocked some sense into him. 

Pocketing the phone, Geto brought his hand back up to brush away the strand of hair in his eye. “Jesus fucking christ… it’s only 11:00.”

Haibara took deep, measured breaths to calm his racing heart and roiling stomach as he walked back to your booth with two ice creams in his hands. The bile in his throat fought with him ever since he had left his room to come and meet you, losing once as he had raced to the nearest bathroom, pushing a disgruntled Kento out of his way in the process. Not that he would ever let you hear about that– he’d probably have to arrange his own funeral early. 

This particular ice cream shoppe was the same one he had seen you and Toji talking in– and it was the only place he could come up with on such short notice.

Honestly, he only planned as far as asking you out. 

Sliding into the booth across from you, he offered a small smile as he pushed the cup of ice cream in your direction. “Eat up!”

Oh, god. He’s so lame. 

You tentatively reached out and took the spoon, swirling the ice cream back and forth. “Thanks.”

Silence crept over the two of you, causing Haibara’s head to buzz with anxiety as he searched for the right words to say, the words falling stale on his tongue. In search of revelation, he said whatever came to mind. “What do you think about the new kids?”

You paused, spoon halfway to your mouth as you replied with a nonsensical: “Huh?”

“You know, um, Ijichi and Naoya?”

“What’s there to think about them? I’ve only spoken to them briefly; I don’t know anything about them as far as curse techniques.”

Haibara cleared his throat, thrown by your response. “They’re just interesting, so to speak–”

A braying laugh interrupted him. “Yuu, are you trying to talk shit? I didn’t think you had it in you.”

In truth, he very much did not have it in him. Each word tasted like venom on his tongue and he already felt like a horrible person– He just thought if he did that then maybe you would– He’d die before admitting it, but your taste in men, if he was right, was horrible. What else could he do but emulate those personalities? 

Scrambling for the right words, something along the lines of financial prospects and the words “No bitches”, he cut himself off with a startled yelp as someone slid into the booth next to him. 

“We’re talking shit?” 

A blanket of despair encompassed Haibara– who invited these guys?

“Y/N, is it alright if I sit next to you?” Geto Suguru said, one hand over his chest like the perfect gentlemen. In contrast to his lover, who had three ice creams spread out in front of him and was already halfway through the first. 

If Haibara hated himself, he would think that a look of relief flashed across your face, but, in what could only be referred to as self preservation, he focused on his anger at Gojo Satoru instead. “Excuse me–”

“Excuse you from what?” Ice blue eyes pierced through his own, the promise of a threat lurking within them. 

“We were just talking about our underclassmen–” 

Geto raised his eyebrows, raising one hand up to prop his head onto it. “That’s ironic, so were we.”

Haibara felt blood rush to his cheeks and he clenched his teeth to calm down. “Well, we’re in the middle of a date, so–” 

“Oh, really?” Gojo cut in. “So were we!” 

In the midst of his panic, Haibara watched in horror as your shoulders shook slightly, barely concealing a laugh. At this rate, his perfect date, in which he successfully wooed you(delusion), would be ruined. “Yeah, well, I see open tables elsewhere and this is a private matter.” 

“Cool down, lover boy, we just wanted to make sure our Obi-chan was safe– I mean, this is her first date, after all.” 

Your head snapped up, embarrassment and rage coloring your features. “Gojo–”

Geto placed a hand on your back, shaking his head. “Satoru, stop. The kid’s trying his best."

Kid? Haibara was only a year younger than them! Sure, they were incredibly stronger, but in terms of maturity he was sure he had them beat. I mean, he’d never dream of interrupting someone else's date– 

Maybe that was his problem. He wasn’t like them.

“Wait a sec- It’s your first date too, huh, Yu?” Gojo leaned towards him, and instinctively he leaned away. “Woooow, imagine your nickname being ‘vibrator’ and you’ve never touched a girl–”

Suguru couldn’t help but muster a laugh from beside you, garnering an elbow to the gut. 

“Have you ever thought about using your cursed technique in other ways~”

As Haibara opened his mouth to refute, you beat him to it.

“What the hell is your problem?” Haibara noticed the way their faces fell at your tone, and quickly came to the exciting conclusion that you were not joking around. “Don’t be a dick, leave him alone.”

Haibara blinked, just as dumbfounded as Gojo and Geto appeared to be.

“Even if you don’t like him, show some respect for Yu.” Haibara’s face dropped at that comment. She was defending him- sure, it was a little hurtful- but she was defending him!

Satoru Gojo looked as if you had shot him in the foot. “It was just a joke–”

“You’ve lost your sense of humor then.” 

“Or he wasn’t funny to begin with–” Haibara flanked your statement, but was cut off by the sudden snarl in Gojo’s throat.

Did he seriously just growl…?

“Whatever–” Frustrated, the white haired boy shot up out of his seat. With little care for his surroundings, he left his trash strewn across the table as he signaled for his boyfriend to follow him out of the booth. 

“I apologize for the inconvenience–” Suguru started, head bowed slightly as he moved with Gojo.

Satoru was quick to cut in with a “We’re not sorry!” before the front door to the parlor slammed open. They were gone before it could even shut behind them.

To say Haibara was shocked was an understatement. His upperclassmen were so immature, but what confused him the most was your nonchalant reaction as they left. Was this what you were used to? Was this the norm? 

“I–” He went to say something, anything, but froze as he watched your cold demeanor fall from your face. They did bother you, you just would never show them. “...Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry, Yu.” You reached out to hold his hand across the table, a genuine gesture that had no other motive behind it. 

His face exploded into a bright red, his free hand coming to move some of his hair from in front of his face. “N-No, it’s okay– I mean, what are you apologizing for? It’s not your fault, they're just assholes. I mean, who does that to someone? It’s totally immature and embarrassing–” 

It was upsetting to admit, but Haibara was slowly becoming a different person under the pressure. He would never allow himself to bad mouth other students to seem better than them, but he couldn't help but feel like he had to. It was no secret that you had ( he liked to believe there was emphasis on the past tense) feelings for Gojo or Geto– or maybe even both, he couldn’t tell–

Regardless of how he felt, he found himself shaping his behavior after them in hopes to garner the same effect.

The awkward silence morphed into something unbearable, and as you let go of his hand he felt like he might throw up. “Why don’t we get out of here? Take a walk in a park or–”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” He was the first to stand up, head narrowly missing a decoration that hung from the ceiling. “It’ll be good to stretch our legs.”

He grimaced as he picked up the remains of Gojo’s spoils, but he would have felt bad leaving the mess behind for some poor worker to clean up– he wasn’t a monster!

As much as he didn’t want to be pushed around, he knew his morals were always going to get in the way. It just felt so bad to be an inconvenience– he couldn’t understand how you put up with them. As he dumped the trash, he snuck a glance at you, face heating as he observed your movements. He just liked you so much. 

Rushing forward ahead of you, he nearly tripped over his own feet to hold open the door, grinning shyly as you murmured your thanks. His chest fluttered as he fell into step with you; he wished he could have this everyday. 

Yet as he reached his own sweaty palm to take your’s, his heart fell as you seemed to flinch away. 

Your eyes caught his and you coughed awkwardly, “Sorry– Uh, there was a bee.”

A bee?! In the middle of winter?

“O-oh, yeah, uh glad you missed that. It would hurt to get stung.” And he could name something ELSE that was stinging now– looking away to blink back tears. 

You grew silent and he felt that any attempt he could make to break the tension would only make the situation worse. As you both turned into the park, he felt a welling sense of dread as he watched you twist your fingers nervously. 

“Listen, Yuu, you’re really nice–”

Oh. 

He was getting dumped.

Does it count as being dumped if you weren’t together in the first place? Rejected? His feelings unrequited? 

He stopped you before you could continue. “I know that someone like me isn’t who you would normally go for– I’ve seen you when you like someone and when you don’t. I figured I was the latter, but I’m glad I was able to share this time with you today.” Shifting on his feet, he toyed with his hands. “It’s not just me that’s come to feel this way about you – and I guess I just wanted to be able to express to you how important you are to everyone you meet.” His voice cracked as he spoke, but he cleared his throat to try and conceal it. “You’re an amazing girl, Y/N.”

Haibara’s hands trembled, this time not due to his cursed ability, but from the faint tremors that leaked out from his heart– Was he able to get through to you?

You slowed your pace as you avoided his gaze. Just how were you supposed to respond to that? But as you opened your mouth your words were cut off. 

Overwhelmed by the notion that he was about to have his heart broken, Haibara grabbed your hand and shook it once more, as if he was concluding a job interview. “Thank you and goodbye!”

With that he sprinted away from you, heart hammering as he fought back tears.

You weren’t sure how to feel on your way back to the dorm. On one hand, you felt horrible for breaking that kid’s heart– on the other, you were relieved you didn’t have to be the one to do it. 

The whole thing felt like a mess, from the choice in ice cream parlour to Gojo and Geto’s abrupt interruption. Would it be bad to say it helped take you out of your dilemma when they showed up? If Gojo hadn't been such an asshole then maybe you would have let them stay, eager to have company in the hopes Haibara would catch a hint and yield in his pursuit altogether. 

Stopping to collect your thoughts, you found yourself sitting down at a bench in the subway. Any other person would’ve been offended at the idea of their date leaving them to get home by themselves, but in your opinion? It would’ve been ten times worse. 

As the bell rang overhead for the oncoming train, the door opened to reveal a familiar head of white hair. 

So much for being alone.

Hoisting your bag over your shoulder, you didn’t miss the way Gojo’s eyes widened in acknowledgment at Haibara’s absence, flicking over to the empty space next to you. He wasn’t going to let this go. Climbing aboard, you noticed Geto’s expression fall as well. 

Though they had tried to interfere earlier, it seemed they felt some sort of sympathy for you– or maybe it was pity. Either way, you didn’t need it. 

“So–” Gojo started to speak, hesitation lacing his tone.

“We agreed we should be friends.” You didn’t have the heart to tarnish Yu’s pride any longer. He was clearly hurting, and telling everyone you rejected him– which you didn’t even get to do– felt wrong. 

“Friends?” Geto pressed further.

“Yeah. You know what that means, don’t you?”

Though that elicited a laugh from him, it seemed to shut him up. 

“If what we said... Influenced that outcome, I guess–” Gojo struggled with finding the words to say, biting the inside of his cheek. “I guess I'm sorry.”

“No, I was going to say no from the beginning. I just didn’t know how.”

“...Well, if it makes you feel any better, there's tons of people who’d probably kill to go on a date with you.” Geto shrugged, dismissing the way Satoru’s face fell in horror.

“Like who?” It was entirely sarcastic, but you couldn’t lie, you were curious.

Chapter Text

Iori Utahime has been waiting for this day ever since she first met you. With just the first “Hello” you had stolen her breath and her heart along with it. So, when she received a questionable call from Gojo two nights ago, obviously she informed him what exactly he could fuck himself with. 

Only moments later, Geto’s name was flashing across her screen and she had felt apprehension welling in her gut. If he was in on it as well, certainly it must be true?

Which led her to this very moment, nervously smoothing her hair behind her ears as she checked a compact mirror over for the 100th time. 

“I told you to tell me if my mascara was running under my eyes.” She snapped at the lanky teen next to her. 

“Oh? Is it?” Gojo leaned down, lowering his glasses past the bridge of his nose to stare at Utahime’s face. “Mmm, looks like it smudged. Did you even blend your concealer?” 

Angrily rubbing her face, she turned to Geto instead. “Is this better?”

He sighed as he mimicked Gojo’s actions pointing with his finger to indicate her turning her head. “Looks great.”

“Yeah, like the last 18 times we told you.”

Utahime sucked on her teeth. “You guys don’t get it. You’re just men.”

“If anyone gets you, it’s Satoru. Did you not notice he’s swapped shirts 4 times now?”

Raising a brow, she looked at the white haired man with skepticism. “But they all look the same?”

Offended, Gojo slapped a hand over his chest. “This is a long sleeve! The one before it was a quarter sleeve– and I can’t change the color, these shoes don’t go with anything else.”

A thoughtful voice chimed in behind him. “I think they’d go with the button up you got from the mall a couple months ago– the tan one?”

“Tan?! In the middle of winter? Am I a cheesy salesman?” He rounded on the person only to double back, coughing to cover his blunder. “Oh, Obi-chan!”

Your eyes scanned the party, all in varying levels of dress. “Um, I thought we were just hanging out? I wasn’t informed of the dress code.” Geto was the only one dressed to match you, from casual jeans and a long black tee, whereas Utahime and Gojo… 

The color drained from the prior’s face. “Is this too much? I can go back and change–”

You grabbed her shoulder, patting it once to calm her anxiety. “No, no, you look cute… It’s just– I didn’t know you’d be here? I thought it was just me and the guys.”

Utahime’s heart dropped to her feet, light-headed as she swayed on her feet. “Oh, I’ll–”

“Wrong, Obi-chan! This is…” Gojo paused for effect. “A double date!” 

“Huh?” Your mouth fell open. 

Geto leaned in to whisper in your ear. “If it makes you feel any better, I told him this was dumb.”

The small girl in your group had begun to melt away into a puddle of dejection. “I’ll just get going– I don’t wanna interrupt your time.”

As sudden as this was, you didn’t want to break another admirer’s heart so easily! 

“No, no, Uta-chan, let’s go. It’ll be a lot of fun.” You pulled her into your side, squishing her cheeks in the process. “We can kick their ass with laser tag, easy.” 

“Unfortunately, laser tag isn’t on the schedule this evening.”  Gojo informed the two of you. “I went through the trouble of getting us reservations–” 

“Reservations? Ok, I’m definitely not dressed for this. Can I just head in and–”

“No, you're perfect as you are, they’re just to a revolving sushi restaurant downtown.”

You stared at him in confusion. “Reservations for revolving sushi?”

Geto rolled his eyes. “He rented the restaurant for the evening.”

Uahime joined in with a questioning gaze. “Why?”

“” Why? ’ Why not!” Gojo mocked. “Because I can and because I say so.”

You threw one hand up in a ‘whatever’ gesture. “And the rest of the night?”

“There’s that new thriller you wanted to see, so I got us all tickets.” He stated proudly.

You stared at him, unamused. “And how many tickets did you buy, Satoru?”

The man in question evaded your gaze, clearing his throat as he tugged his boyfriend along. “Ok, we better get going now, don’t wanna be late.”

Scoffing, you linked your arm with Utahime’s trailing after as you muttered under your breath. “Late for revolving sushi…” 

If you had to count with your hands how many times Gojo and Geto involuntarily thrusted you into awkward situations– you’d run out of fingers. If it weren’t for the obvious tension in the air, you’d think this would’ve been done on purpose. Whether to humiliate you– or make a point on how lonely your life would be without them, you weren’t sure. Utahime’s presence only threw you further off kilter, as she seemed to be genuinely enjoying her time, Gojo’s snide comments be damned. It’s just, you couldn’t shake this feeling of disappointment. 

You thought this date was going to be with them .

As stupid as it sounded, you truly believed that to be true. The signals they had been throwing you– since, well, forever– were nothing but romantic. You would have to be blind to not think so, or at least, a tad delusional.

Of course, you took into consideration the fact that the two were already together. You knew on some level that joining into their relationship would be strange– but you couldn’t help your mind from imagining what it would be like. Just how would you fit into their lives, supplied with a new role? How would… they fit–

Your face flushed uncontrollably as you suddenly choked on the rice in your mouth, hand flying to cover your mouth as you cleared your throat. 

Utahime was first to reach for you, a gasp of concern escaping her lips as she patted your back. “Y/N-Chan, please be careful–” 

“I’m good, I’m good–” Cringing to yourself, you caught Gojo’s eyes across the table. To your surprise, his expression mirrored one of your own, before slipping on a mask of amusement. Was he just as reluctant to go through with this date as you were?  

“Thinkin’ about something?” Scratch that– He was teasing you, and wasn’t he? A feeling of unease settled into your gut. Were they really doing this to make fun of you? And dragging Utahime in along with them?

You always thought her affections were simply platonic, that she was just the touchy kind of friend. It wasn’t abnormal for girls your age. Hell, you had probably held hands with Shoko more times than Gojo in the last life.

Though she had graduated the year before, she was your upperclassmen, and as female students in an overly complex patriarchal world would do… you stuck together.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Thinking about someone else while on a date?” Suguru leaned forward, eyes narrowing slightly as he grinned. You couldn’t help but feel scrutinized under his stare. “How rude.” 

Utahime scoffed in annoyance, pointedly glowering at the man over the rim of her glass as she drank. 

“Not someone, just ‘something’. I’m still catching up on my assignments since being in the hospital. No matter how much I work, that pile never seems to shrink.” You laughed awkwardly, pushing your cuticles back as you spoke. While you did have an assload amount of homework– you would never admit how much space those two took up in your head. Eyes falling back to your hands on the table, Utahime’s fingers inched their way to intertwine with yours. 

“You both are such insensitive pigs.” Utahime sneered, shaking her head profusely. “Y/N is just a fantastic student, I’m sure she’s almost caught up, maybe even surpassing you two.” Bringing her straw to her lips, she smirked. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Er… no, I think I haven’t even passed the work from before Christmas.” Red from embarrassment, you lifted your hand from her grip as your head fell. 

“WHAT?!” Coughing out her milk tea, she let go of your hand. This gathered attention from the workers, who were peeking from the kitchen the whole time to see what loon would spend that much to rent out a dumb sushi restaurant. The snickering of the boys only served to anger Utahime further. 

“W-Well that’s okay too! You’re just getting back to adjusting to school life, so–” As she continued to mutter her reasoning, it was clear she was trying to backtrack to avoid any further insult to your character. 

“No, I'm a horrible student, it’s okay.” Laughing, you rested your chin on your palm as your elbow dug into the table. A piece of your hair fell from behind your ear, bouncing slightly as it now rested against your face. “I kinda just fake it till I make it, or I ask Nanami for help. He’s really smart, did you know that? I would totally take credit for that if I could, but I just took care of most of the small things–”

The table went quiet, all three pairs of eyes silently watching you. You blinked, confused, before you touched your lips. “Is something… on my face?”

The trio in question almost instantaneously broke into conversation, cheeks flushing by the minute as they tried to make sense of their silence– each talking over the other. (They were totally not just admiring you.)

“I’m so sorry for staring at you, was that rude?! I’m so sorry–” Utahime was beyond freaking out, hands slapping over her cheeks before moving to bow her head. 

At the same time, Gojo interrupted. “Yeah! You have something near your lip, let me get it for you.” Reaching over the table, his thumb went to wipe at something on your face.

Accidentally debunking Gojo’s attempt at contact, Geto seemingly sabotaged his partner as he elbowed him in the ribs. “No– There’s nothing on your face. You look great.”

Trying to calm their panicking, you dodged Satoru’s attempt to wipe your lip, picking up your chopsticks. “Okay, all of you, chill the fuck out–” Shaking the strange feeling that rushed down your spine, you leaned to pick sushi off the conveyor belt. “I don’t know what’s going on with all of you, but I’m starving.” 

They all mustered out synchronized apologies, causing you to sigh and shake your head.

“I can’t believe I'm the one reminding you, but this is a date, remember? These are supposed to be fun.” Sticking a piece of sushi into your mouth, you missed the way they all sighed in relief. You weren’t going to question their staring, or their weird behavior.

“You’re so right!” Gojo let out a laugh, sticking food in his mouth. “I just remembered something hilarious– Y/N, while you were gone I accidentally blew up Yaga’s office–”

Geto scoffed in disbelief. “Accidentally? The way I remember it, you literally said “watch this” right before it happened.” 

“Details, details… the most important part was that I blew up all of our files so my detention hours got wiped off my record.” Smiling triumphantly, he looked to you for some sort of reaction. 

“Ugh, that brutish behavior will get you nowhere but in trouble.” Utahime chastised him, shaking her head disapprovingly. “Yaga-sensei has gone soft since I left.” 

“Yeah, well that clean detention slate didn’t last long. He had to serve one right after it happened.” Suguru snickered, throwing you a look. 

Blinking rapidly to hide the way your face was heating up at Geto’s stare, you turned your attention back to Gojo. “Property damage aside– that’s fucking awesome. Hope you got rid of my record while you were at it. ” Your heart skipped a beat at the way his face lit up, causing you to clear your throat. “But Utahime’s right–”

“Of course I am! Boys always get let off easy, whereas girls are expected to beg for forgiveness and feel guilty .” She spat the last word out.

“Here you go again, on another sexism rant.” Satoru shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Coming from you? Number one man hater? Hypocrisy isn’t an attractive trait Uta-chan....”

“It doesn’t count if you’re sexist against a guy!” Utahime cried, looking to you for support. “With how our political system is structured, men can get away with anything!”

“There is no way we’re bringing the government into this…” Sighing, you looked at Geto. His expression was just as aggrieved as your own. 

“Both of you are proving each other's point.” Coming to your aid, the dark haired boy nodded solemnly. “You’re both assholes.”

“YEAH, WELL YOU’RE DATING ONE!” In unison, Gojo and Utahime aimed their aggression towards him instead of each other. The table rattled under their movement, your drinks nearly spilling over themselves as they slid slightly across the counter top. 

“Volume...” Warning them, Suguru’s eyebrows lowered in slight annoyance.  

“Why’d we even bring these guys? I swear they bring out the worst in eachother.” Laughing, you noticed in your peripheral vision as the two turned back to each other– grumbling threats under their breath. 

“We’d have better luck going on a date solo at this rate.” Geto nodded, a warm smile on his face. 

You hummed in agreement. “Well, it would definitely be less eventful. But, what’s wrong with a little argument? I’ve long accepted that conflict just helps make things more interesting.” 

“What an interesting way to say you just want me around.” Gojo turned his attention back to you, arm outstretched over the table as his hand laid on Utahime’s mouth. 

“Oh, Satoru, my life would be truly boring without you.” Pausing for effect you gave him a cheeky grin. “No one else is as brutally honest as you.” 

Color flooded Gojo’s face as Geto laughed along with you. “He really does bring the flavor into our lives.” 

Giggling, you reached for another plate, hand changing direction to pluck a dessert passing by. “Wait, Suguru, you have to try this one, you’ll love it.” 

A pale hand snatched it from your grasp, the selfish teen across from you. “Well, this happens to be my favorite, you can order another one.” 

Geto’s hand trailed up his boyfriend’s face, pinching it slightly while the other sneaked its way towards the bowl. Quick as lightning, he shoved a spoonful into his mouth, giving you a pleasant smile. “Why, this is as delicious as you said. Thank you for your recommendation.”

“Suguruuu.” Gojo whined, giving him a poor attempt at a stink eye. “You’re so mean.”

Patting his head, Geto did his best to soothe the idiot. “Yes, yes. I’m a horrible bully.”

You shook your head, turning to the small screen and selecting the same dish. “Calm down, I’m getting another one.” 

Gojo flung his hands up in joy. “Oh, my goddess! You love me so.”

Your ears heated as you pointedly watched the conveyor belt, snatching the plate and thrusting it in front of him. “Shut up and eat.”

A slight cough came from next to you. “May I have one?”

You turned to Utahime, freezing as you saw her meek posture. “Uta-chan– Of course you can.” 

Guilt numbed your throat as you tried to focus on ordering the dish, the image of Utahime’s dejected face clouding your vision. You felt horrible– For a moment, you had completely forgotten the girl in favor of… Sneaking a glance at the boys, you tried to convey a single message. Help me! 

No one spoke until you laid the dish in front of her. 

“Thank you.” She said quietly. 

Once more your eyes sought the two across from you, widening as you watched them avoid your gaze. How were you supposed to handle this alone? 

“I–” 

“The movie–”

“We’d better–”

The three of you had all spoken at once, seemingly worsening the girl's mood as you did so. You shared a look with Geto, indicating he should go first. 

“Well, the movie should be starting soon, so we should make our way to the theater.” He said, reaching over to the tablet to request the check. 

Gojo nodded. “I chose the goriest title, as per Obi-chan’s request.”

You grabbed your date’s arm in a sad attempt at excitement. “Uta-chan, you’ll love it– I’ve heard raving reviews about this one.” 

Rather, you’ve already seen it a number of times, along with the sequel, but you’d never let her know that. 

Utahime’s mouth fell open in shock. “Is it a horror?”

“Did Gojo not tell you?” You raised a brow at him. 

Raising his hands in defense, Gojo shook his head. “I told her you wanted to see it and she agreed without me saying anything else–”

Snapping her head towards him, Utahime looked as if she was planning his death behind her dark eyes. 

Geto dragged his boyfriend up, indicating for you and Utahime should follow. “Let’s all remember this night is for fun. So what if it’s a scary movie, Utahime, it’s just an hour and a half.”

She looked to you for help and all you could think to offer her was a hand squeeze and an encouraging smile. “Let’s go, we should get our own bag of pop-corn. Satoru likes to put weird things in his.”

“It’s not weird, I’m just innovative.”

The theater was only a short walk from the restaurant, and you forgot the awkward tension as you spied the poster. “Oh, that’s so cool. Suguru, can you take a quick photo with me in front of it?”

Rushing to stand in front of the illuminated sign, you threw a quick peace sign for the photo. “Cool, thank you.”

“Oh, boo, take one with me.” Gojo grabbed your shoulders, dragging you back to pose with him, his arm solidly wrapped around you. 

“Let me see.” You went to grab Geto’s phone from him, shocked as the phone flashed once more. “Hey! Delete that.”

“Why should I when you look so cute?” He laughed. 

“Let me see!” Gojo rushed over, looking closely at the photo. “Mmm, unclear on the cute part, let me try.”

He whipped out his phone, quickly snapping a photo of you with your arms crossed. “Ok, you’re right. She’s cute.” 

Your heart stuttered within your chest, turning to Utahime instead of admonishing them any further. “Come on, Uta-chan, let’s get the best seats before these losers can take them.” 

But as you took her hand and went to pull her along, she stopped you. “I’d like to go home now.”

You grimaced to yourself before giving her your full attention, your chest full of anxiety. “But we haven’t seen the movie yet? We can stay just a bit longer– I promise you’ll like it.”

“No, Y/N-chan, I just want to go home.” She spoke softly. “Could you walk me to the station?”

“But she–” 

Geto stopped Gojo from saying anything further. “We’re going to get some popcorn–” He hesitated, carefully choosing his next words. “Utahime, be safe going home. Y/N–”

This time he was cut off by his boyfriend roughly dragging him into the theater. “Don’t talk to them– they’re just party poopers.”

Could this man be any more childish?

Seeing as the two of you were left alone, you gave her your full attention. “Utahime–”

She broke her hand from your grasp, striding in front of you as she stuttered out apologies. “Sorry, Y/N-chan, I know you just– You wanted to spend this night with them instead of me, but–” Her breath shuddered and turned around quickly, and you saw her countenance reddened and stained with tears. “I really like you, Y/N.”

You opened and closed your mouth, unable to find your response. “Uta-chan–”

“No– please, I–” Utahime stood up straight, both hands coming up to wipe the mascara staining her cheeks. One hand pressed to her chest and the other to her forehead, covering her eyes– your heart hurt for her.

You stepped in, raising your arms to bring her into your embrace. At the same time, she threw her hands down, grabbing your arms with a glare of determination. “What are you–”

A warm pair of lips sealed over your own, stealing your breath from you in the process. Panic overtook you, and without even realizing you–

“No– please, I–” 

You stumbled back, watching the same pitiful scene over. You wanted to love her– to return her feelings that were so strong– so blatant that you were an idiot to never realize them. But you couldn’t. You loved– hell, against all odds you still loved– 

You flinched as Utahime rushed to you, instinctively grabbing her shoulders to stop her from reaching you. 

“I’m sorry!” You cried out, shaking the girl slightly. “I’m sorry, Uta-chan, but I can’t return your feelings– I just don’t see you in that way. You’re my friend, you always have been and I’m sorry I’ve never seen how you feel about me. But– I don’t love you!”

The girl was now crying in full, curling in on herself and you couldn’t help but hug her firmly. “I love you so much.”

Your lips trembled, throat clogging as you could only repeat– “I’m sorry.”

You held her for a few moments more as her shuddering breaths settled. She nudged you slightly on the arm and you released her, watching her face closely. 

“I really made myself look like an idiot, didn’t I?” Utahime groaned. “I’ll never hear the end of it from that stupid man.” 

“Do you need me to–?” You gestured to walk with her, pausing as she shook her head. 

“I’d like to be alone for a bit.” She gave you a sincere smile, only partially ruined by her reddened nose. “Thank you for tonight, Y/N-chan.”

“Of course.” You grabbed her hand once more, shaking it slightly. “I’ve had a wonderful time.”

You watched in morose silence as she left, unable to move as the weight of another broken heart settled on your shoulders. 

Yet– despite this internal turmoil– you wandered over to the doors and through the lobby and gave the attendant your ticket. When you entered, you found the entire room empty, save for two seats in the middle.

One foot after the other, you came to stand next to Gojo, staring at him in silence. “Damn, these are good seats.”

Geto leaned forward in his seat, holding a bag of (thankfully normal) popcorn and a drink. “Only the best for you.”

You remained standing, jutting your chin to Gojo’s seat. “I wanna sit there.” 

But in a complete turn of events, he stood without complaint. “Of course, my lady, I was only keeping it warm for you.”

With a quick shuffle, you plopped yourself down in between them, your lips finally betraying your feelings as they shook. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

The straw that broke the camel’s back– their sympathy. Throwing your head into your hands you groaned, your eyelids starting to burn from holding back tears. “I didn’t want to break her heart– or Haibara’s, or any other unfortunate idiot that gets a crush on me after I’m nice to them for five seconds–”

Gojo hummed contemplatively. “I don’t know, you’re hotter when you’re mean– Ow, fuck–”

An arm snaked around your shoulders, after a not-so-kind smack to a certain buffoon’s head. “This isn’t what we wanted for you tonight– We thought that, in all honesty, you and Utahime-senpai always had something–”

You snapped up, narrowly missing his chin. “You thought I liked her?”

“Well, no, but the other options…”

A second arm blanketed the other on your shoulders. “Obi-chan, we go to a school full of assholes, she was the best option– and she really liked you! So it was supposed to be a win-win for everyone.” 

“I just don’t understand.” Bringing the heel of your hand to wipe at your eyes, you bite down on your tongue to stifle your cries. “People genuinely like me and I can’t even be happy about it–” 

“Well, it's not your fault that you’re pretty, smart, cool– I could go on, you know, but the movie’s run time is only an hour and a half.” Gojo didn’t spare you a glance, though his voice carried something heavy with it underneath the usual sarcasm. Sincerity. “You don’t have to return someone’s feelings and go on a date just because they like you. Some people are just meant to be friends–”

You smacked his knee to get him to shut up. “And that’s what we were! Until the two of you pulled some blind date bullshit. I thought this was gonna be us hanging out like we used to– I was really looking forward to it.”

It had been so long since the three of you had gotten together to do something normal that wasn’t related to school or your home life. They were both a distraction and a grounding source for you. And when they mentioned the movies– Well, it felt pathetic to say it, but your stomach filled with butterflies. 

It’s not like they’re gonna wake up one day and think you should be there with them, but it’s still something you craved desperately. Even if you could just see Gojo’s horrible bed head one last time, or feel Geto’s arms around you again– you would be happy. 

“Y/N, I–”

A scream echoed out from the movie, harsh flashes of red washed over your face as Gojo’s popcorn bucket imploded in his hands. Your eyes followed the final-girl as she escaped the killer for the first time and you grabbed the guys’ shoulders, shaking them slightly as you spoke with a hoarse voice. “Wait, I really like this part.”

If you weren’t so enraptured with the horror going on in front of you, you would have caught the looks being shared behind your back. A knowing smirk and a satisfied smile, both of them tightening their grip on your shoulder as they passed snacks back and forth. 

Geto turned to you, holding out the popcorn bag to you and Gojo as the three of you walked back to the dormitory. “So, she was the killer all along?” 

“Well, yes and no in a way? Her father erased her memories from the start and ended up taking over the role, along with the sister for that one scene– which is the premise of the second movie, by the way. So, the first half was definitely her, but she technically becomes someone else with the memory loss– like it completely alters her perception of the people around her and inadvertently turns her into a ‘good’ person, isn't that cool?” You gushed hardly taking a breath during your rant. 

Gojo huffed, rolling his eyes as he shoved a handful into his mouth. “Yeah, except for the part at the end where she kills everyone– what kind of hero is that?”

You threw your hands up. “So what if she’s not a moral compass, those guys deserved it– and they would’ve ratted her out if she didn’t.”

“Y/N, I think that’s what we call an antihero.” Geto chided, humor concealed in his eyes. “I get it, though.”

He watched as you hesitated and could sense the implication– Geto was an antihero. Or rather, he would have been if you hadn't inserted yourself in his life. The thought sent a pleasant sensation through his body– you in his life, in their life. What a life that would be. 

When he first brought up the idea of a double date, he had done it with semi-pure intentions. Utahime had been on Shoko’s ass for a couple of months now for her to throw in a good word to you and eventually score a date, something that wouldn’t have been possible if they hadn’t had called her up. Gojo had chewed him out for the days leading up to the date, wholly reluctant to share their precious time alone with you with a ‘stranger’.

And yet, a part of him knew that the date was going to play out like this. Utahime is known to be a kind individual, in her own way, and he knew that she wasn’t your type. Despite knowing this, he still orchestrated the date, recommending restaurants to Gojo who was adamant that no one else be allowed in on their escapade– even the public– willingly offered up his wallet. 

The thought had been nagging him for some time now– would you have accepted to go on a real date with just them? When you said you wanted to hang out with them he couldn’t help but feel as if you wanted to do more than hang out, he hoped, even. 

He came out of his thoughts as you arrived at your room, giving him a small smile. “Thank you for tonight, I know it’s not what you guys planned, but–”

“It’s what we wanted, though.” Gojo interjected. “Blind dates are lame– how are you supposed to have fun when you’re so worried about getting to know some dude?” 

You leaned against the door as you pondered his question. “I guess I can see that– I’ve never seen myself being successful in the dating field.”

“Oh? How did we–”

Geto could see you start to shutter off again so he quickly inserted himself, placing a hand over his boyfriend’s mouth. “How about you tell us that later? It’s getting late and you shouldn’t keep Shoko waiting any longer.”

A voice rang out behind the door. “No, no, act like I’m not here.” 

Giggling, you put a hand on the door knob and gave them a shy smile. “How about next week? With laser tag?”

The two of them replied in unison. “Absolutely.”

“Great! I’m looking forward to it.” With that you slipped inside, ducking your head back out to add a  cheeky bluff. “Looking forward to winning , that is.” 

Before Gojo could rise to your challenge, you shut the door and locked it behind you, faint snickers vibrating through the wood. 

As the door shut, the smile gracing Geto’s expression quickly fell. Some part of him felt guilty, sure, for purposely toying with your feelings– but something had to be done. A point had to be proven. You couldn’t be with someone who got pushed around, your life needed strict support, and people like Haibara and Utahime were just too fragile to give that to you.

He hadn’t meant for it to hurt you, though. He just hoped that one day, you realized that what you were looking for was right in front of you.

Chapter Text

Standing in a familiar hallway, you found yourself lost. 

Everything around you was shrouded in darkness, the only illumination being a harsh spotlight over your figure. As you moved, it followed you– dangerously glinting on glass that lined the hallways. You felt like you knew this place, but it was tucked somewhere deep in your mind. 

Moving forward, a clock began to chime from somewhere in front of you. It shook the walls, the sheer volume causing you to shield your ears. The hallway around you seemed to quiver with it, and with another step, a second chime rang out. 

“Hello…? Is anyone there?” 

Calling out, you received nothing in return.

Taking another step, another chime sounded out– this time from behind you. It echoed along the walls, distorting the sound that followed. Whipping around, you were face to face with nothing but the rush of panic and dread. 

Something was wrong, and something was here. 

Desperation took over, and with all the momentum in your body you turned around. You quickened your pace, and to your horror the chimes quickened too, matching every stride. Realization hit you quickly, cold like the frost that bit your nose. You had to find a way out. 

Moving, indistinct whispers began to crawl up your spine. Your heart pounded in your chest as the hushed words grew clearer. One in particular sounded hauntingly familiar, like the voice of your Grandmother. It was as if a cold hand had wrapped around your heart, and squeezed. 

“You have to listen.” Her voice was deep, a guttural growl layered underneath the tenor of her voice. As you continued to walk, her words grew to cries, shrieks that resonated to your core.. 

The dread that coiled around you wasn’t just from the clocks or the shadows pursuing you, but instead from that disembodied voice pulling at your heartstrings. Each step you took felt like a betrayal, each chime a reminder of the unknown terror lurking behind you, close on your heels. 

You dared not to look back, fearing what you might see– or worse, confirm what you already suspected.

Mind racing, you tried to piece together the evidence around you. The hallways of your home, the glass of the clocks on the walls, the wailing of your deceased grandmother– it seemed like this hell was meant to torture you of your past mistakes. The chimes grew louder, each one reverberating through your bones, the tempo increasing with your rising panic. 

Obinata Nao’s voice was closer this time, almost tangible. “You have to remember.” She pleaded with you, but you weren’t sure what she was talking about. 

Tears stung at your eyes as your running never ceased, the solemn hallway echoing with the screams of machines and memories– what was she trying to tell you? Where were you going? Where was–

You sat up with a sharp intake of breath, ribs stinging with your sudden movement. It hurt to breathe, eyes screwing shut as you gasped for air. Momentarily stunned by the darkness around you, your hands floundered around on the bed for your phone to check the time.

You laid back down, tossing and turning as you tried to comprehend the implications of your dream. On one hand, you have been stressed the past few weeks with your final exams, but on the other… something told you that what you saw may be an omen, or a warning. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t have time to think about things like that, but try as you might you couldn’t get yourself to fall back asleep. And, not having the motivation to study at the moment, you rolled out of bed and grabbed some workout clothes from your dresser. At least then you’d be doing something productive. 

Taking in the room around you, you sighed in relief at the sight of your dorm. You were at school, and everything was normal. Normally you’d have the looming threat of unfinished school work glaring down your back, but with Nanami’s help you were academically back on track. 

You’d think with the death of your Grandma, your family at home would be at a loss of what to do without you. But, it seemed that with time, Toji and the others had settled back into a routine. 

However, Kenjaku still weighed heavily on your shoulders.

What was he planning, walking around wearing your brother’s face and collecting Sukuna’s fingers left and right? Was it possible that you had inadvertently given him a head start to resurrecting him? There were still so many unanswered questions. 

You shuddered at the thought, partially accompanied by the chilly air. 

Just keep it together for a few more months, hell, only a few more weeks till another rack of exams. Then, you could sit through Chiyo getting smash-drunk through your graduation one more time and try not to laugh at the inevitable prank Gojo was going to pull over on Yaga-sensei. He made a point of dragging you and Geto into it, going as far as assigning specific roles. As of now, you were only the getaway driver, and you hoped that he wouldn’t change that. 

Pulling on your leggings, you made a point to note your headphones on the bedside table. You were going to need serious music therapy to forget what you just endured. Slipping your sweatshirt over your tank top, you leaned over for your phone, thumbing through your playlists as you walked. 

When you entered the gym, you looked around to fortunately discover it was empty. Of course, rationally, at this time it would only make sense that the other students on campus were enjoying the sleep you so badly yearned for. Making a beeline for the back of the room, your eyes fell on a treadmill, the gym blissfully silent. As much as you love your friends, you could do with some time to yourself. 

Stepping up onto the track, you put your headphones on, turning the volume up to drown out your footfalls and the whirr of the machine. 

I don’t want to be your friend, I just want to be your lover…

Scowling to yourself, you quickly skipped to the next song.

You turned up the speed, an eerie feeling creeping up your spine as you ran. After 5 minutes had passed, you decided you were warmed up enough to turn to weightlifting. You shut the machine off, going to grab the supplies to clean but quickly dropped them in shock when you caught eyes with someone. 

You screamed. Loud enough that you heard it over your music, and with a quick registering of your acquaintance, your fear turned to embarrassment. “What the fuck?!” You said loudly over the volume of your headphones, ripping one off to talk to your apparent stalker. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to hear your shit taste in music.” He strode over to the weights you were about to use, picking them up and doing a couple of reps while ignoring your judgemental gaze. 

The audacity!

You picked up the spray bottle and towel, giving the treadmill a quick wipe down before angrily walking over, shouldering past the douchebag to get to the dumbbells. 

“Personal space?” Naoya Zenin spat out, tiny dick energy in full bloom. 

You had nothing to say in response, mouth screwing shut as you picked up your weights. When you looked back, he had disappeared to the other side of the gym. Whether it was from spite, or the need to be alone, a part of you felt guilty. You didn’t mean to chase him away or piss him off by screaming at the sight of his face.

While yes, as terrifying as Naoya Zenin was to share a gym with at four in the morning– you had only screamed from the sheer paranoia attributed from your nightmare. 

Shaking yourself free of thought, you spared Naoya one last glance before putting your dumbbells back down on the rack. Where some people would say that working out was a good expense to get rid of your stress, you found it to be the exact opposite for you this morning. This was only making your day worse, and it hadn’t even started. 

Grabbing your things, you walked to the exit of the gym, slipping your headphones back in and turning up the volume once more.

Today was an unusual approach to your morning routine, as you were 10 minutes early to your first period class. On a typical day, you would be sleeping in and purposefully avoiding Chiyo-Sensei’s class. It felt morally wrong to take advantage of your teacher’s soft spot for you, sure, but desperate times called for desperate measures and you weren’t known to be the kindest person in the morning. 

You pointedly ignored the way your classmates' faces fell in shock at your presence, Shoko snapping a picture of you seated at your desk. “Oh, this is going to everyone.” 

Irritation flashed across your face. “Can you not?”

“Not what?” She said as she hit send. 

Geto leaned over her shoulder to look at the photo, making a noise of appreciation. “You look good this morning, what’s got you up so early?”

You shrugged, feeling no need to conceal the truth from them. “Had a bad dream so I decided to head to the gym–” You paused to check your watch. “Three hours ago.”

Gojo raised his eyebrows in shock. “That bad? You should've come over and woke me up, I would have kept you company.”

“You’re worse than me in the morning, so hell no.” You pulled your notebook out of your bag, fishing for a pencil as you did so. “Though, the sentiment is appreciated.”

Shoko threw her stuff on the floor next to her desk before handing you your pencil. “Sorry, didn’t give it back after the last exam.” 

Your fingers closed over the wood, nodding your head in thanks. “It’s cool.”

“Okay, guys, what do you want to bet that Y/N-chan shows up 30 minutes late toda– oh my god, hello?” Chiyo cut off in surprise before her face grew concerned. “Are you sick?”

“Do you think I’d show up to class if I was sick?” Your eyes narrowed slightly, almost offended at her question. 

“No, I meant mentally, sweetie.” 

“Oh.” The events of the past four hours played in your mind’s eye like an overdramatic telenovela, causing your mood to sour. “In that case, sure.” 

“Admitting it is the first step.” Shoko nodded absentmindedly. “If you don’t speak up, it’ll just grow worse and the next thing you know, you’re addicted to drugs.”

Gojo gasped, slapping a hand on his desk. “Don’t put that energy into the air, you’ll curse her–”

“To live a life of misery and pain?” Grumbling, your head hit the desk with a thud. “Already doing it.” 

“Cut your bangs like Geto then you’re set.” Shoko smirked, folding her arms. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Unaware of the joke, the black haired boy narrowed his eyes in question.

Letting out a laugh, Gojo spared his boyfriend a raised brow. “You know exactly what that's supposed to mean.”

Takeuchi Chiyo cleared her throat, nails impatiently coming down on her desk. “As much as I love our conversations, I do have to keep my job, so let’s get on with class and away from whatever Geto has going on with his bangs.”

The man in question went to say something, stopping himself with a deep breath. “Of course, Takeuchi-sensei, and after class I can offer some salons where you can go to take care of your roots.”

“...” She glared at him. “Moving on.”

The downside to sleeping in your first period is that you’ll never know what the hell is going on. As much as you study the material and pass the exams, the topics covered in discussion always seem out of left field. 

As you were about to ask Chiyo a question that would surely make you look like a dumbass, Yaga-sensei thankfully blessed you with his presence. 

“Takeuchi, can I see you for a moment?” 

“Oh god, don’t tell me it’s the NTA–” 

Gojo gave you a look, before smiling. “Is our poor sensei getting arrested for tax evasion?” 

“No, If it’s anyone's problem, it’s Izuza! Don’t take this up with me!” Throwing her student a glare, she left her desk before slamming the sliding door shut behind her.

Gojo turned to Geto, gesturing to the door with a light jerk of his head. “We should listen.”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t talk over people, you’d be able to hear for once.” Shoko shook her head, before pulling out her phone. 

“Maybe she’s getting fired.” Geto shrugged, letting out a sigh. 

“The heavens finally answered my prayers–” Gojo was quickly cut off with a notebook to the head, throwing you a glare. “What was that for?!”

“If you’re still mad about the Yuki thing, don’t hold it against her. Chiyo didn’t know.” 

“Don’t you know that all blondes run in packs?” Shoko hummed, propping her foot up on the desk. 

“Then Nanami’s the final boss…” Gojo whispered, before another book came barreling for his head. Though your aim had been on point, infinity activated before it could touch him. 

The door slammed back open with as much force as it was closed, Chiyo very quickly throwing a file down on her desk. 

“Y/N, meet me after school to discuss the information on your upcoming mission.”

Your head perked up at that, confusion written on your face as the sounds of protest from your classmates rang out. Mission? Since when were you cleared to start getting missions again?

Slowly raising your hand, it seemed Gojo had the same question.

“How come she gets a mission?! I’ve been waiting to hear back about my request–” Gojo was obviously irritated, throwing Chiyo an accusatory look. “You just chose her for it because you prefer her over us! She’s the one who actually needs to come to class, what about exams?!”

“Hey! I’m all caught up, eventhoughIhavenoideawhatwe’retalkingaboutrightnow–”  

“See?! She’s illiterate! Besides, she just got back, what if she, like– dies again!” 

“Then she dies.” Unamused, Chiyo rolled her eyes. “She won’t be alone.”

“Oh! So I’m going too?” He sat up excitedly. 

“Eh….” 

“Are you going to scream at me again?” His voice was laced with disinterest, impatiently sitting at a desk near the window.

“Naoya…? You fucking paired me with Naoya?!” 

You had fucking lost all hope for the glimpse of a better day. Naoya Zenin was your partner.

“Wow… your clear distaste for me isn’t hurtful at all.” 

Muttering a quick apology, you threw Chiyo a quizzical glance. 

“I didn’t choose anything.” She was quick to shut down your betrayed expression, shaking her head. “You both were specifically chosen by Jujutsu Headquarters for this mission.” 

You both sat up at that, eyes narrowing as you went to reach for the file.

“Just what is this mission? If it’s so important, how come Geto and Gojo didn’t get it first?”

“Last time the council decided to trust Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto with a sensitive mission such as this one, they lost their target to oncoming subway traffic. The only thing they recovered were entrails, and when you’re supposed to sacrifice a girl to an ancient tree thingy– intestines aren’t going to do the job.”

You swallowed hard, eyes wide at the sudden reminder that what she was talking about was your doing. Riko Amanai, now known as Riko Obinata, lived peacefully in a temple tucked by mountains– not painting the walls of a train station.

“Right.” 

Naoya gave you a look, before clearing his throat. “So, it’s a big deal.” 

“No shit, Naoya.” Chiyo’s formalities dropped, and with the look she sent the Zenin, you felt a shred of sympathy. “We’ve been noticing a lot of missing children’s cases popping up in urban areas.” Grabbing for the file, she opened it. “Normally we attribute it to freaks who just get a good paycheck off little kids, but it became clear this was more than just a true crime case.” 

Your face fell in unease, eyes tracing the multiple children’s posters littering the evidence section. 

“Numerous kids disappearing without a trace, with little to nothing to connect the cases.” Flipping to a page, she pulled out a picture of a building. “The first site was a daycare for kids in a rural neighborhood. Some housewife babysitting on the side at her house with a little girl of her own. She was Suspect A, but after talking with the kid, we noticed that this went farther than a typical domestic abuse case.” 

“The paranormal.” Naoya offered, and instead of snapping at him for interrupting, she only hummed in agreement.

“So a curse is taking kids? Yeesh…” You wanted to pretend to be surprised, but with your past experiences with children in the Jujutsu World, this was just a common occurrence. Maybe you’ll gain another sibling by the end of this. “I’m not really understanding why this is specific to me?”

“Well, this isn’t the work of a curse. It’s a curse urser.” Flipping to another photo, there was another child presented on a flier. Her hair fell just above her chin in a neatly trimmed bob, the deep gray bordering on purple color making the photo appear much duller. She had striking yellow eyes, dark, wide pupils unfocused on the camera. If there wasn’t a television in the back of the photo, you would’ve thought this was a picture from the forties. Or rather, a memorial photo of a propped up corpse. 

“It’s clear her parents didn’t love her with that haircut.” Naoya was the first to speak, a look of pure disgust on his face. “Hard to believe a kid is capable of all of this.”

“You’d be surprised to know what a child can do.” You didn’t mean to say it as ominous as you did, but the point still stood. Ichiro wasn’t too much older when he killed your whole family, so you weren’t surprised that little girls could be child traffickers.

“You’ve been tasked with executing her.” Closing the file, it was presented to you. “They thought your rewind technique was the most humane way to take care of a mentally damaged demon child.” 

What?

Your heart fell into your stomach, and for a second you thought you were going to throw up. Murdering curses and fighting bad guys was commonplace for the job, but you didn’t imagine you’d be killing a child your senior year of highschool. 

“Euthanization isn’t an option...?” Your nervous laughter made it seem like a joke, but you were entirely serious.

“If it was as simple as putting a dog down, they wouldn’t need us, right?” Naoya narrowed his eyes. “I don’t see what the issue is, we’ll do it.” Snatching the files from you, he tucked it under his arm. 

Your mouth opened in protest, holding out your hand to grab it back. 

“Well, whether or not you agreed to it, it’s happening.” With that, Chiyo was quick to usher the two of you out the door, quickly slamming it shut behind you. If she continued to treat it like that, you were sure it was going to fall off its hinges. 

“No offense, but what the fuck is wrong with you?” Turning your attention to Naoya, you snatched the file from underneath his crossed arms. “You don’t get to just assume control and make decisions for the both of us-”

“And you do?”

“Well, it’s my mission. You’re supposed to be my partner.” You’d never admit it, but that was something Gojo would’ve said.

“With your uncertainty, yeah, someone’s gotta take control. Women are known to be indecisive and sensitive when it comes to death, so they had to stick you with me to ensure you’d have backup. You can’t leave your teammates out of the loop.”

“Sexism, really? That’s your reasoning? And, since when do you know anything about teamwork, Zenin?” Venom laced your tongue, and as soon as the words left your mouth, you stopped. You shouldn’t have said that. 

To be fair, you didn’t really get to know Naoya in your past life. You weren’t sure he even came to Jujutsu Tech in the first place, so maybe there was an ulterior motive to his sudden appearance. You couldn’t let your guard down, seeing as now your life was starting to bleed into the uncertainty. You had no idea where you were going, or what you were doing. 

“Wow. Okay.” Blinking, he took a step back. You couldn’t read him, and that made the guilt pooling in your stomach churn. Did you… hurt his feelings?  “Let me put it in self-sacrificial words so you’ll understand.”

Exasperated, you went quiet. 

“In order to be the hero people can depend on, you have to do the wrong things to make things right.” Turning on his heel, he didn’t spare you a second glance. “We protect a majority. That’s our job. I’m starting to think those long nights in the hospital have made you forget that.”

Swallowing, you sighed to yourself. Maybe your nightmare really was a warning for how fucking miserable you were going to be. 

Early the next morning you and Naoya waited for your driver outside of the dormitory. You yawned, stretching your arms over your head and rubbing at your swollen eyes.  You hadn’t slept again that night, the same nightmare plaguing your mind. If things continued this way, you were sure you were going to go crazy. But, as you blinked the harsh rays of sun away, you couldn’t help but admire the wake of nature in front of you. 

The golden hues of the sunrise casted a warm glow over the stairs of Jujutsu Tech, the school itself not yet enveloped in its light. As you glanced at Naoya, the air grew thick with awkward tension. He looked pissed, hair casting a shadow over his eyes and his eyes focused forward. He wore a scarf that hid his expression, but you were sure under it, there was a matching scowl. It was clear neither of you were morning people, but you couldn’t help but attribute the strained mood to your conversation last night. 

Naoya shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glancing sideways to look you up and down. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended, choosing to bite down on your cheek to avoid making a response. You looked away, turning your attention to the sky, a gentle breeze rustled between you. 

You shivered at the cold, blowing out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Watching as your breath crystalized in front of you, you suddenly remembered that in your nightmare from the day before, your breath did the same thing. Fear shot through you, and instinctively your hand let go of your bag, the object clattering at your feet. 

Naoya seemed to notice, scoffing something under his scarf before reaching down to pick it up. Unsure of the gesture himself, he gave you a narrow-eyed look before passing it back to you. You tried to smile, acknowledging the action before taking it back in your hand.

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t angry with you.

You felt like an idiot, being scared of something that was natural. It was winter, and on cruel mornings like this, of course your breath would be visible. Now was not the time to start getting sensitive over stupid things.

You went to open your mouth, to say something along the lines of ‘how is your morning’, but it all quickly died in your throat as the sound of a horn echoed from down the road. Your ride was here, and seemed to be very…enthusiastic? 

A black sedan slammed on breaks, losing control of the wheel as it screeched against the concrete. Naoya cursed from beside you, jumping back to land a far aways back on the stairs. You? You closed your eyes and accepted your fate. 

But it never came.

Opening your eyes, you watched as the window to the passenger seat opened right in front of you, mere centimeters from your face. Relieved, and a little bit disappointed, you watched as the driver's face materialized in the car.

Low and behold, the driver was Izuza. Chiyo’s girlfriend. 

“What the hell is your problem?! Don’t you women know how to drive?” Naoya was right in your ear, causing you to flinch out of the way. 

“Oops.” Uninterested in his whining, she motioned for the back seat. “If you’re going to critique my driving, I'd prefer you do it from the back seat. They’re paying me to get you there alive, that doesn’t mean I have to be a good driver.” 

You went to grab the back door, but instead she cleared her throat.

“Nope, you’re reading the map. Get up here.” 

Out of all the groups you could’ve imagined yourself working with, this was not one of them. Izuza, a diehard feminist, having to spend an extended amount of time in a small vehicle with none other than Naoya Zenin? It was clear your life was in danger. 

Climbing into the passenger seat, Izuza began to drive. 

Seconds had become minutes as you sat in the car, you swore you could hear static. Besides the few times you called out directions for Izuza, no one had said a word since the trip had started. Fumbling with your things, you reached for the case file that poked out from your bag.

Unfolding it in your lap, your eyes skimmed over the words you had read countless times before. If you were being honest, between your nightmare and the inevitable ending of this mission– you were confident you’d never sleep soundly again.

Tracing your finger over the girl's photo, you frowned. For someone to be so young and hateful, they had to have been made that way. 

Clearing his throat, Naoya’s voice ripped you from your thoughts. “If you can't bring yourself to do it, you need to let me know.”

Sighing, you closed the file neatly before tucking it back in your bag. “Good to know.”

“I’m being serious.” His hand came to pull at the shoulder of your car seat, causing you to whip your head around. “I’m not trying to mock you, or anything petty like that. If you can’t do it, you can’t do it.” His eyes were narrowed, an eyebrow raised in question. “If it’s a struggle, let me do it for you.” 

“...” Looking away, you sighed again. “Listen, we don’t even know if she’s really a bad person– she’s a kid.”

“Your brother was just a kid when your family was massacred. Some souls are just naturally born evil.” 

Your mouth screwed itself into a scowl, wrinkles forming on your forehead as you narrowed your eyes. Ichiro wasn’t born evil, as much as he had done to be a bad person, he was never that way from the start. Geto Suguru was a prime example of it, considering that in this lifetime, his anger had been persuaded. If he was suggesting that some people were just meant to play the bad guy, he was terribly mistaken. 

“You can say whatever you want, Naoya, but you know nothing about my family or anyone else for that matter. That’s a cruel statement.” 

“This girl you're defending is actively kidnapping little kids. Is that redeemable? Or are you just planning on taking in every child you find? I can promise you, this one isn’t innocent and they’re not going to let you do that.” 

“I–” Scoffing, you rolled your eyes. “That is not what I'm saying, don’t put words into my mouth.”

“Right.” Sitting back in his chair, Naoya mumbled something under his breath. 

“What was that?”

“I was just trying to be helpful.” 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you breathed in harshly through your nose. 

“Thank you for the attempt, Naoya.”

Izuza’s grip on the steering wheel had severely tightened, a grimace on her face. It was clear this whole interaction was getting on her nerves. 

“No problem.” It came through clenched teeth. 

Silence followed after, and for the next five minutes you swore you were going to puke. You had never been the type to get car sick, but it seemed the lack of sleep and constant bickering were starting to get to you.

“God, if the two of you are gonna kiss and make up, warn me so I can crash the car in time.” 

You shrieked, slapping at the older woman on the arm while Naoya made barf noises in the backseat. She dodged easily, laughing as she did so and clearly entertained by your apparent despair.  

“What the hell are you talking about, you dumb bitch?!”

“Izuza, what the fuck?!” You really were going to puke.

“You guys know I was just joking, right?” Her face was pulled into one of shock as she watched you fumble with the locks on the door in an attempt to end your misery. “Christ, calm down, I can tell you hate each other, don’t worry.”

“Leave it to a woman to not know what good humor is.” What a lame-ass. 

Izuza suddenly slammed on breaks, your body flying into the dashboard despite your seatbelt tightening against your chest. “Hey! You might get to talk to some girls like that, but it isn’t going to fly with me, you understand me?”

Naoya had hit the back of your seat. Hard. 

“Do you understand me?” 

Sitting back up, you held your forehead before casting her a look that read ‘what the fuck’. You’d think that with her history in retail, she would be more tolerant to misogynistic bullshit. Maybe the career switch allowed her to drop the customer service filter? 

“...” Groaning, Naoya clutched his head. “Yes.” 

“Good.” 

Standing in the doorway of your hotel room, your face fell in despair. 

Like some fucked up romcom novel, there was only one trope you could think of that applied to this situation. One bed, two people. 

Two people who didn’t like each other all that much. 

“Are you sure this is the right room…?” Trailing off in disbelief, you looked to Naoya, who’s expression was understandably similar to yours. He looked distraught– disgusted even. 

“...Yeah. I read it right.” Pushing past you, his bag hit the door as it flew into the wall. 

“Well let’s tell someone, this has got to be a mistake–” 

“Sounds like they just accounted for you coming alone. It’s fine, we’ll make it work.”

Sighing in discontentment, you walked in after him. “Okay, but one of us has to sleep on the floor, or ask for a futon or something.” 

Without hesitation, you watched a smile grow on Naoya’s face before his bag was thrown onto the bed “Glad you agree. You’ll take the floor.” 

“I– Hey–”

“Easy fix, right? I told you we’d make it work.” 

“Well, usually–”

“Usually the man takes the floor, yeah, I know.” Cutting you off, he shrugged. “But that emo bitch Izuza suggested I approach life with a different outlook. You’re strong enough to deal with the floor, right?”

Clamping your mouth shut, you didn’t have the energy to argue. He had made this trip already unbearable, so you couldn’t imagine what horrors would emerge if you continued to complain. 

With your most convincing, bullshit eating grin, you smiled in his direction. “Right.” 

You didn’t say anything else as you got ready for bed, nearly barricading yourself in the bathroom to change your clothes and shower. You didn’t think Naoya was the perverse type, no, but you didn’t necessarily trust anyone after Gojo and Geto had snuck into the girls locker room to put bleach in Meimei’s shampoo bottle once in freshman year. 

Neither of you said anything as you climbed into your make-shift bed on the floor, the sound of blankets shuffling from the bed behind you. You turned your back to him, closing your eyes to try and get some much needed rest.

Opening your eyes, you expected to see light poking through the curtains of your hotel room- but you were terribly mistaken. There was no light, and there was no Naoya.

Confused, and albeit fearful, you found yourself compelled to stand. Shuffling through the room, you neglected to realize that your surroundings weren’t the same as you left them. Small details were missing, or hadn’t settled in yet. 

As the door to your hotel unlocked, realization dawned on you. This was another nightmare. You watched in paralyzed horror as the door began to creak open, and you swallowed down whatever sound was itching to escape you.

Taking a step forward, the ticking of a clock seemed to grow louder- coming from outside the room. You couldn’t stop yourself from wandering further, before the hallway swallowed you and the door behind you swung shut.

You expected this nightmare to take place in the hallway of your hotel, but you were proven wrong as it seemed you were back in the abandoned halls of your childhood home. The same as your nightmares from before. 

The ticking had grown louder, chimes of midnight now echoing down the corridor. Unlike last time, you didn’t move. It seemed every step you took, time began to speed up, and something behind you got faster. If this was truly a nightmare, or a vision, maybe running from it was the wrong thing. 

So you did nothing but wait. 

But nothing ever came. 

“Hello?” Mustering up the courage, your voice rang down the hall. 

The clock answered with an aggressive toll, before something grabbed you from behind. You tried to scream, but nothing came out– and as another hand wrapped around your mouth, you couldn’t help but notice the way the hallway reeked with death.

Cold, clammy fingers seemed to wrap themselves around the roots of your hair, before pulling your head back. Squinting your eyes shut, you feared for what was pulling you back, knowing that it was looking down on you. Was it a curse? Were you being actively cursed and unable to do anything? How come you hadn’t noticed- how come your friends and teachers didn’t?

Unless it wasn’t a curse at all. Maybe whatever was pulling you down, was what your vision wanted you to see. You went to open your eyes- to take a peak at whatever it was- but as you began to see through the darkness, you began to free fall.

“What the hell is your problem?” Naoya stood in front of you, eyes screwed shut from exhaustion and disorientation.

You hadn’t realized you were screaming, now awake and trembling with misplaced adrenaline. Your voice eventually died off, cracking harshly before you blinked away your fear. You were awake now. 

“I–” With bated breath, you lifted a hand to rub at your eyes. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up–”

“...” Looking not-so convinced, Naoya pulled away from the edge of your makeshift bed. “Nightmare?”

Sighing, you suddenly felt embarrassed- like he’d judge you for something so childish. “...Yeah. Pretty much.” 

“You can take the bed.” It was sudden, but for a moment through the darkness, you recognized a look of understanding on Naoya Zenin’s face. You didn’t think he was capable of sympathy. 

“What?” Spoken in disbelief, you watched his expression sour. 

“I expected you to fight me on it earlier. You didn’t. I would’ve just taken the floor if I had known you’d throw a fit like this.”

“I… wasn’t trying to be difficult. I just have bad dreams. I don’t need the bed, you need your rest too.”

Irked, it was clear he wasn’t exactly trying to argue this time. 

“Listen, it’s already early in the morning. You sleep whatever weird shit you’ve got off, I’m going to set a game plan into action for when you wake up. If we’re going to make it out of this in one piece, considering it’s apparently a special grade mission- I need to trust your judgement. I can’t do that if you’re not in the right headspace to even think properly.”

You’d never know it, but Naoya Zenin was genuinely trying to be nice to you. 

“...Okay.”

Climbing into bed for the second time, you watched as his form slunk into your spot on the floor. You didn’t see much else before a veil of black clouded your vision, and you were asleep once more.

This time, you didn’t have a nightmare.

Chapter Text

Rubbing your eyes, you stared absentmindedly at the building in front of you.

It was the kind of place meant to put you at ease- a charming two-story Craftsman, complete with a wraparound porch, a tire swing swaying lazily in the backyard, and a cheerful “Welcome” sign hand-painted beside the door. Pastel chalk doodles sprawled across the front walk, only half-faded by time. Plastic toys lay scattered and forgotten in the yard. It was quiet now- eerily, suffocatingly quiet.

Sawa Yukimura had been everyone’s favorite neighbor: sunny grin, spotless fingernails, always the first to volunteer for school fairs and cookie drives. She ran a daycare from her home filled with paper mâché art projects, soft-edged toys, and the persistent scent of peanut butter sandwiches. A mother herself, she had a daughter so bright it almost hurt to look at her.

Then children from her daycare began to go missing. Not permanently. Just… long enough to have their absences noticed. They’d disappear for hours at a time, then reappear with empty eyes and stiff limbs, refusing to speak or laugh or cry. Whoever came back wasn’t the same child who’d left.

After the final incident, Mrs. Yukimura closed her doors. She claimed it was to protect her daughter, who no longer slept through the night, who filled sketchpads with warped shapes and whispered to unseen things in the dark. Maybe Mrs. Yukimura thought shutting down the daycare would end it, but she found that some stains don’t wash out- no matter how much you bleach them. 

Cases like this always dug under your skin. Once the police decided nothing could be done, and no culprit could be neatly blamed, they chalked it up to another mystery lost in the chaos. Japan wasn’t short on its share of folklore and freaks. When order slipped through their fingers, the authorities simply stepped back and let the darkness keep its secrets.

But alas, you weren’t here to interview the Yukimura parents yourself- no, you and Naoya had been saddled with babysitting duty.

With little real intel to work off, the Jujutsu Council had made the brilliant decision to use the daughter as bait. You thought it was idiotic- cruel, even- throwing that child right back into the same situation she’d barely escaped from. Their logic was simple: if it was just a curse, two sorcerers like you and Naoya could handle it. But if the file was correct, and this was actually the work of a curse-user… that was a whole different nightmare entirely.

If experience had taught you anything, it was that curse users were the absolute worst.

After everything you’d survived with Suguru Geto in your past life- and Ichiro in this one- you knew curse users were a far bigger pain. Because they were human. They thought like you.

Luckily for everyone involved, your job wasn’t to unravel the mystery. Just kill whatever was behind it and get the hell out.

You rubbed at your eyes again with a weary sigh, dragging yourself back to the present. It was dead in the middle of winter, and given your lack of sleep, you were tempted to pass out right there on the front lawn.

“If you keep standing around like that, we’re going to be here all damn day,” Naoya called from across the yard, already halfway up the porch steps.

He hadn’t been in the mood for conversation since dawn, and you could hardly blame him. When you’d woken up, he’d already choked down a terrible hotel coffee and nearly vomited it back up. When you asked why, he said- completely serious- he’d assumed someone would’ve added creamer for him.

Maybe Ijichi was a relentless Naoya Zenin bootlicker, but in your world, nobody fixed your coffee unless you asked. Spoiled brat behavior, plain and simple.

“Sorry. Just thinking.” You finally started up the driveway, eyes flicking across the windows. 

Naoya rapped his knuckles against the front door. “You keep spacing out like that and we’re never gonna get anywhere.”

“It’s barely eight in the morning,” you muttered, glancing sideways at him. “I swear to God, I will smack the shit out of you.”

Footsteps shuffled just beyond the entrance. After a brief, awkward pause, the door cracked open and you instinctively straightened your posture.

“Oh, hello.” Mrs. Yukimura let out a breathy sigh, opening the door wider. Beside her stood a small girl clutching the hem of her sweater. “You’re the…” Her gaze flicked toward the street, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The… mediums?”

“Something like that.” You nodded and offered your hand. You weren’t entirely sure how much she knew- or had been told- about what you actually were. “We’re here to stay with Konda.” Crouching down to meet the girl’s eyes, you offered her your warmest smile. “That’s you, right? How are you this morning?”

Konda blinked wide-eyed at you, took one long breath, and then promptly turned and bolted deeper into the house without a word.

You blinked, rising slowly. You weren’t scary, were you? Considering how recent your life had been filled with random children attaching themselves to you like barnacles, this was new territory.

Naoya let out a laugh, eyes running over your face. He was clearly revelling in your failure. “Nice work, you’re really good at this.” 

“It’s nothing personal,” her mother said gently, stepping outside and pulling the door closed behind her. “After everything that’s happened, she doesn’t do well with strangers. It’ll take time. I tried begging them to let me stay with her while you two… handled things. But they said if this is going to work, it has to feel real.”

Naoya snorted without a shred of tact. “They’re right. Considering you already screwed up half a dozen other kids, you being around would probably make things worse.”

“Zenin-” You elbowed him hard, shooting the woman an apologetic look. “I am so sorry, he always wakes up with a stick up his ass.”

Trembling, Mrs. Yukimura shook her head. “No. He’s right. I should’ve been more careful- I should’ve done more-”

“For god’s sake,” Naoya groaned, shouldering past her and pushing the door open. “If you keep sobbing about it, nothing’s getting fixed. All you can do now is get out of the way so we can do our job. Let us work, and maybe you’ll earn the right to stop feeling like a shitty mother.”

You stared at him, horrified- and yet, unbelievably, something in his harshness seemed to spark resolve in her. Her spine straightened, eyes cleared, and she nodded.

Somehow, his absolute lack of compassion had done what soft words couldn’t.

Once inside, you watched silently as Mrs. Yukimura gathered her coat and purse, offered a stiff apology, and slipped out the front door. The moment her car backed out of the driveway, Konda vanished silently up the staircase- leaving just you, Naoya, and a very long day ahead.

“Should we… go after her?” you asked, glancing toward the stairs. Naoya was busy toeing off his shoes by the entryway with all the urgency of a bored cat.

“We’re here to supervise, not stalk,” he replied dryly, straightening up to shoot you one of his perpetually irritated looks. “If we hover over her shoulder the whole time, whatever we’re hunting won’t bother showing its face.”

Annoyingly, he was right. Curses were smart- they could sense cursed energy. If you and Naoya felt too oppressive, anything weaker would simply lie low until you were gone.

“Besides,” he continued, folding his arms, “you already made a terrible first impression. Forcing her to like you isn’t going to help.”

“Why do all your ‘wise’ moments sound like you’re insulting me?” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Kicking off your shoes as well, you stepped deeper into the house. The living room looked like a shrine dedicated to Konda- every inch of wall space was covered in framed photographs of the girl at various ages: smiling with smeared paint on her cheeks, holding up birthday cakes, dancing in grassy parks. The sheer number was overwhelming, but what really caught your eye was the complete absence of a father in any of them.

Plenty of households were single-parent these days- that wasn’t the odd part. What made your stomach twist was the thought of what kind of trauma might have birthed a curse here. Divorce. Death. Abandonment. Negative emotions were fertile soil.

“She’s creepy as hell, curse or not,” Naoya remarked from the kitchen, breaking the quiet. He was rummaging through cupboards with zero finesse, leaving every cabinet door hanging open in his wake.

“Naoya,” you hissed, stalking after him as you shut things behind him, “what are you doing ?”

He held up a mug, completely unbothered. “Coffee.”

You stared at him for a long moment, then sighed in defeat. Whatever chaos lay ahead, God forbid Naoya Zenin face it without his morning caffeine.

You sighed, weighing your two options: scold Naoya for shamelessly raiding a grieving mother’s coffee stash, or join him and keep your mouth shut. In the end, martyrdom wasn’t your style. Muttering a few carefully selected curses under your breath, you grabbed a mug from the cupboard.

Surprisingly he took it from you, rolling his eyes as he walked to the coffee maker. You looked at him questionably, half expecting him to put your mug away just to spite you. As if he knew what you were thinking- he cleared his throat as he placed both mugs down on the counter. 

“Last thing I need is you screwing up coffee,” he grumbled.

You just blinked at him, baffled. Did he genuinely believe you were incapable of operating a basic machine?

With an exhausted exhale, you left him to his sacred ritual. The hiss and drip of coffee faded behind you as you did what you did best- dig deeper.

Still, something about this assignment sat wrong in your gut.

Your file described the suspect as a young girl- a potential curse-user responsible for the disappearances of multiple children, seemingly without motive. You’d dealt with plenty of monsters like that… but they were always adults. Twisted people with twisted reasons. People like Ichiro, whose warped ideals at least explained why he killed- no matter how unforgivable. They had agendas. Conviction.

But this ? What could push a child down that path?

You ascended the first step, the old wood groaning beneath your weight. One hand trailed lightly along the railing as you climbed, illuminating your path with your phone’s flashlight instead of the hall switch- some gut instinct told you not to disturb anything more than necessary.

The walls were lined with photos, dozens upon dozens of them. As your light skimmed over each frame, one thing became increasingly apparent: every single picture centered on Konda Yukimura. Smiling. Laughing. Growing up under a camera’s watchful eye.

It didn’t feel like décor.

It felt like a shrine. Like this woman was already mourning someone who wasn’t dead.

The first frame caught your eye- Konda at maybe two years old, cheeks soft and flushed pink, wearing that wide, fearless smile toddlers reserve for a world that hasn’t yet taught them to be afraid. You didn’t know her then, but something about that frozen moment tugged at you. It hurt, strangely, to think that smile didn’t belong to her anymore.

You climbed another step. The next photo captured her around four, mid-laugh, hands flung skyward like she could take flight. A playground blurred behind her, swing chains disappearing just out of frame. You didn’t know what had made her laugh like that. A joke, a push from her mother, or simply the thrill of trying to touch the sky-- but it burned your chest all the same.

Innocence like that did something to you.

With every picture you passed, guilt festered in your gut. When it came to children, you had always sworn to protect them from the things that had once torn you apart-- to keep them from ever knowing that kind of darkness. You’d done it for Riko. For Mimiko and Nanako. And now Konda was added to that list. Whatever it took, you promised yourself this would end the same: you’d save her from it. Whatever it truly was.

As if that thought summoned a response, a sudden, sharp ringing blared from the upstairs hallway. You jolted so hard your hand flew instinctively to your chest, pulse hammering beneath your palm.

That sound.

You knew that sound.

It was the clock from your nightmares- the one that bled into your visions or whatever the hell they were.

You reached the top of the staircase with your shoulders drawn tight, half-expecting the hallway to be warped or wrong in some obvious way. Instead, it was just a hallway-- beige walls, quiet carpet, two doors on either side. Ordinary. Almost aggressively so. But at the end of it stood the source of that sound-- a towering wooden grandfather clock, the kind that belonged in your childhood home… or your nightmares.

Two doors flanked the corridor-- likely Konda’s bedroom and a bathroom. Mrs. Yukimura probably slept downstairs, though with everything that had happened in recent weeks, that may have changed.

You approached the clock on cautious feet, swallowing against the sudden tightness in your throat. Its hands read precisely nine o'clock, in perfect sync with the nine chimes you’d just heard. Morning had officially begun. And even though you weren’t the kind of person who spooked easily, something about that clock gnawed at the edges of your sanity.

This was going to be a very long day.

“Find anything worthwhile,” a voice drawled behind you, “or are you just going to admire the furniture all morning?”

You shrieked- loud- quickly slapping a hand over your mouth as you spun. Naoya stood halfway down the hall, unbothered, steam curling lazily from the mug in his grasp.

“What-?” You blinked hard, heart hammering as you tried to shake off the panic.

“Next thing I know, you’ll be practicing pickup lines on it.” He smirked, eyes flicking to the clock. “What’s its name? Pretending it’s that cum haired loser--”

“Don’t.” You cut him off with a murderous stare, refusing to rise to the bait of yet another Gojo jab. “I’m not talking to the clock.”

“You scream in your sleep,” he replied with a shrug. “Wouldn’t surprise me if you chatted up random décor too.”

You glared, but chose to move past it, fingers curling around the mug as you took it from him. “It just looked familiar. I’ve seen it in my dreams. I can’t tell if it’s supposed to mean something-- an omen or a warning-- but I hate the way it feels like it’s watching me.”

Naoya stared at you for a beat, then scoffed. “What’s there to be scared of? I thought sorcerers like you were above things like ‘time.’ Isn’t that your whole thing- defy everything? Besides, all clocks look the same.” He raised an eyebrow as you hesitated to take a sip. “I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re thinking.” 

You paused mid-motion, lowering the mug. “I’m sorry,” you said slowly. “What did you just say?”

“I didn’t poison it.” He nodded toward your cup with a scoff-- like the very idea offended him. If Naoya wanted you dead, poisoning your coffee would be far too pedestrian.

“No, before that.”

He scoffed, waving a hand. “All clocks look the same? Something about defying time? I said a lot- be more specific.”

“We don’t control clocks.”

“Oh, excuse me.” He rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck. “Sorry for not understanding the intricacies of your dumb technique. Guess I thought a basic bitch would have a basic power.”

You lifted a brow. “Half-assed comments won’t get you anywhere.”

“And standing here gawking at a clock will? It’s a waste of time, not that I care.”

“Everything is a waste of time if it doesn’t mean something.”

Naoya stared at you with that deeply judgmental expression of his, lips pressed flat. After a beat, he clicked his tongue and tossed out a shrug. “Are you always this fucking depressing, or did your little clan genocide make you that way?”

The blood drained from your face despite the mug radiating warmth between your palms. His expression remained casual, as if he hadn’t just driven a blade through your chest-- but the words rang far too familiar.

Gojo had said something similar not too long ago. He’d joked you were the one who killed your own family. A lie, of course… but one crafted to wound. He always knew which buttons to press.

Still, it made you wonder- had that rumor traveled so far that Naoya Zenin believed it too?

Ichiro was responsible, people knew this- but as the oldest bearer of the family name, they all turned to you for an answer. After all, the killer had let you live. You were his sister. 

You forced yourself to stay calm and cleared your throat. “You don’t really think I killed them, do you?” Raising the mug, you took a long sip.

Naoya’s expression flickered between embarrassment and irritation. He clearly thought you were mocking him, though that wasn’t your intention. “You? Capable of that? You must think I’m an idiot.”

You blinked, about to swallow when a short, harsh laugh cut you off.

“You’re a woman. That’s all there is to it.”

The suddenness made you nearly choke, coughing up what was left of your drink and almost dropping the mug. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not saying you’re a murderer. You can’t even bring yourself to kill a curse user, much less a child. I know who I’m dealing with. Someone with a heart.”

“What does that make you, then?” You asked quietly. 

His eyes narrowed, teeth flashing in a sneer. He didn’t like having the tables turned- maybe because you were unpredictable.

“I’m a man. I do what needs to be done.”

“That’s what your daddy taught you?” You muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes. You’d learned from Gojo not to take Naoya’s words at face value; his attitude was either a mask or a sign of deeper damage.

“Mock me all you want, but at least I know where I come from. The Obinatas? A bunch of cowardly monks hiding from the world when they could’ve used their powers for something meaningful. All that time manipulation, and you can’t even see when your own time’s running out.”

You wanted to defend your family- those who came before you- but in truth, he wasn’t wrong.

Your clan believed curses were the consequence of humanity’s sins, a natural order overseen by some higher power. Who were they to challenge God? If death was their fate, they accepted it without resistance.

Ichiro believed differently, and when he paid the price for his defiance, no one was there to catch him when he fell.

Unlike other clans boasting terrifying physical powers like the Ten Shadows or Limitless, your family’s strength lay elsewhere. Pendulum Negative- and its counterpart, Positive- allowed your bloodline to preserve life, edging close to immortality. That was your family’s importance.

But the Obinata elders were cowards. They hid behind preservation, refusing to protect others, saving only themselves.

You would be different.

You had to be.

“My clan is dead. What is there more to say? That I want to be better? I thought that much was obvious.” Looking him straight in the eye, you bit down on your lip. “Compassion is a good trait to have, you should exercise it more.”

“Maybe.” Shrugging, he smirked at the challenge. “I still don’t like whatever this is-”

“What? A woman telling you to give in to your emotions?”

“A female telling me to do anything, to be honest.” 

“Get used to it Naoya, you act like your mother never bossed you around before-”

Blanking, his eyes narrowed. “I don’t have a mother.”

“Hah-?” Was he being serious? What the hell kind of statement was that?! Everything has a mother in some way-

Taking your mug from you, he noticed the way the grains sat at the bottom. That machine’s filter was shit. “Zenin men aren’t allowed to see or know their mothers. Any and all women are treated as servants or caretakers the second they have fulfilled labor. It’s best to protect our will, the emotions you speak of are better left to ladies and their sensitivities. ” 

Oh.

You couldn’t help the warped sense of guilt that hung in your chest. As horrible as your clan was, they never once thought of women as less than that. Naoya Zenin truly had no women in his life that even cared to be there. 

“...I’m sorry then.”

“For what? I don’t need pity- I’ve already proven myself superior.”

Sighing, you chose not to answer at all. Today was going to suck.

Toji muttered something under his breath for what had to be the fifth time that day, staring blankly into the murky kitchen sink as if it might swallow him next. In his grip sat a fragile, pearly-white bowl- the kind of glass that would chip if he so much as knocked it against the steel. Painted along its rim were tiny brushstrokes- lopsided flowers, crooked smiley faces, uneven stars- the result of an afternoon craft he’d only suggested to kill time. Painfully pointless… and yet, for some reason, it mattered.

The weight of wrangling so many children was beginning to press down on what little structure his life had. With Granny Obi gone, the responsibility sat squarely and ungracefully across his shoulders. He could have blamed you for it- honestly, he had every reason to.

You’d dragged him from a life of gambling and bounty hunting to one filled with sticky countertops, bedtime tantrums, and something disturbingly close to house arrest. A fate he’d once sworn he would never allow- not for anyone.

He was not a man who accepted responsibilities. He was a man who ran from them, tossed them onto whoever was desperate enough to take them. The Zenin name meant nothing to him- though outside these four walls, the world seemed convinced it meant everything.

Freedom. That was the only thing he’d ever cared about.

Which made it all the more ironic that playing nanny had somehow become… tolerable. Maybe even comforting.

Toji wasn’t a religious man. He didn’t believe fate chose who lived and who died- but sometimes he wondered whether those who had gone before him could see what he’d become.

Laughter jolted him out of his thoughts.

He lifted his head toward the window over the sink. Out in the courtyard, his children- all of them- were sprawled in happy chaos. Tsumiki and Megumi. Kaoru and Riko. Even the wild little twins, Mimiko and Nanako.

The twins were tossing a ball back and forth, cackling as Riko stood trapped between them. Judging by her scrunched face and stiff shoulders, she’d nearly reached her limit- the ball had yet to come her way once, and Toji suspected that when it did? Someone would regret it.

He huffed, baffled as ever by how unexpectedly full his life had become- and how much that fullness had started to matter.

Kaoru and Megumi sat off to the side in the shade, your cousin silently threading long strands of grass into something vaguely bracelet-shaped. Tsumiki, of course, was already covered in them- little makeshift crowns, tangled necklaces, and bracelets of weeds dotted with tiny lilac-colored flowers from the garden.

Toji felt the tightness in his shoulders slowly unwind. A low sigh escaped him, quiet, almost content as a rare smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He was grateful for this life, even if no one else would’ve ever believed it. The vicious, bone-deep urge to tear someone apart that used to drive him forward always seemed to fade when he was here. Violence was the last thing on his mind.

Ever since your grandmother had passed, though, it felt as if the house itself had shifted. Not in grief- but in nature. As if the structure had begun to breathe on its own. The wood groaned at odd hours despite no one walking on it, and without the steady ticking of that old grandfather clock, the empty halls felt unsettlingly awake at night.

It almost felt like something was calling… to someone who wasn’t there.

He flicked the faucet off and set the glass bowl carefully onto the drying rack.

Though he’d never admit it out loud, he found himself missing you more than he thought possible. He often worried about you- knowing that a particular set of boys had given you too much trouble for all the work you’d done for them. 

He could only hope you were safe, wherever you were.

His fingers dipped back into warm suds, only for the ground to tremble beneath him.

It started small: a sharp vibration underfoot, the dish rack rattling as plates began to clink against one another. Toji lunged forward instinctively, eyes locking on the bowl he’d just finished drying.

Painted on one side was a crooked little version of you : a smudged smile, poorly drawn hair, awkward lines. If children hadn’t made it, he might’ve thought it truly resembled you.

The bowl began to slide. He caught it before it could topple over, just as a cup from the cabinet above dislodged, crashing at his feet into glittering shards.He scoffed, bracing himself with one hand against the countertop as the tremor intensified.

Quakes were common in these mountains, and landslides were never far behind- but fear shot through him just the same.

The kids were still outside.

Using the kitchen counter as leverage, he vaulted forward and tore into a sprint, the painted bowl clenched in one hand. Behind him, dishes exploded across the tiles like gunfire. Glass shattered, frames rattled and fell from the hallway walls as the entire house groaned against itself.

He dashed toward the hondo, skidding on the polished wooden floors as every wall clock began to strike nine at once. The chaotic clangs collided into a jagged hymn- metallic, warped, and discordant. It made his teeth hurt. For a split second, he thought the ceiling would crack open above him.

Bursting through the front sliding door, he slammed it aside with enough force to make the wood shudder. He stumbled down the stone steps in two heavy leaps as the door snapped shut behind him with a violent crack .

Light engulfed him.

A flood of blinding, white-hot sunlight drowned his vision- so sharp it made his eyes sting and water instantly. He blinked hard, bracing a forearm over his brow like he’d just woken from some too-real nightmare.

The world outside was calm.

A breeze whispered lazily through the trees. Sparrows chirped somewhere near the distant fence. The laughter of children trickled across the courtyard, bright and carefree. No rumbling. No tremor. Not even a hint of unsettled soil.

“Oi! You brats!” he barked, voice rougher than he intended. “Everyone okay?”

His harsh tone made a few of them jump, but six little heads turned toward him- sweaty, grass-stained, but perfectly fine .

Riko blinked in surprise, clutching the ball she had finally caught to her chest. “We’re fine, Toji-san! Why?”

He swallowed, unsure how to explain the chaos twisting inside him and loosened his white-knuckled grip just enough to look down at the bowl in his hand. The little painted smile stared back up at him.

Tsumiki jogged over first, dirt smudged on her knees. “Is something wrong?”

“Thought… there was a quake.” He finally muttered, still scanning the stable earth beneath his feet. “The house started shakin’ like it was gonna rip itself apart.”

Megumi grimaced. “We didn’t feel anything out here. Are you drinking again, old man?”

Toji chose to ignore that.

Toji’s gaze drifted toward the house. The windows sat peacefully in their frames. The walls weren’t groaning. From here, it looked like nothing had happened at all.

“Everyone inside,” he said at last, voice steely but quiet. “Now.”

“What about our game?” Mimiko whined.

“Move,” he ordered, sharp enough this time that no one dared complain. One by one they shuffled toward him, unease settling even among the most carefree of them.

Toji stayed rooted by the stair, bowl clutched tight, eyes fixed on the doorway as a powerful, relentless certainty bloomed in his gut. Something was fucking wrong.

He ushered the kids past him and waited on the porch until every last one disappeared through the doorway- satisfied only when Kaoru, the caboose of the bunch, finally slipped inside with a questionable glance.

Toji followed last, sliding the door shut behind him with practiced care.

Silence greeted him. Clear, peaceful. Not a single clock chimed out of rhythm- in fact, they were all motionless just like they all had been when he first had gotten here. The hondo stood exactly the way it always had: nothing askew, no cracks in the walls, not even a frame tilted.

His brow furrowed in confusion as he moved back toward the kitchen. Had he imagined it?

The moment his foot crossed the threshold, he stopped.

No shards of glass littered the floor. No bowls out of place. The drying rack was full- neat and untouched. Even the cabinets remained closed, hinges silent.

Slowly, he stepped forward and placed the painted bowl back where it belonged. His eyes drifted to the sink, expecting to find at least something out of place. 

Instead, crystal-clear water sat undisturbed inside a single porcelain cup. He leaned over it, expression hardening, unable to stop himself. The surface looked perfectly still besides a small, deliberate ripple that pulsed across the water.

Night pressed in around the Yukimura residence, edges of the house swallowed by shadows that pooled quietly beneath sliding doors and hallway alcoves. The lights were off save for one warm lamp poised on the low coffee table in the living room- golden glow flickering just enough to illuminate the room.

You and Naoya sat on opposite ends of the tatami, half-empty mugs cradled between your hands. Konda had long since gone to sleep, tuckered out after an exhausting day of doing absolutely nothing. But neither of you were tired, not when you were both waiting.

Waiting for that something you could both feel - like tension stretched tight along a single wire, humming just behind your thoughts, daring you to blink.

Naoya leaned back against the wall, head tipped as if lazy- yet his eyes remained sharp, golden lashes catching the lamp glow. He watched you over the rim of his cup in a way that made your shoulders itch.

“So,” he finally muttered, voice a smooth rumble in the quiet, “when exactly were you planning on telling me about your little shrine-to-hospital fiasco?”

You blinked.

He was wearing that infuriatingly self-assured smirk, the one that meant he already knew more than he should.

“I wasn’t,” you said, too tired to pretend.

His smile grew knife-edged. “That’s what I thought.”

You lifted your chin stubbornly. “It had nothing to do with you. I handled it.”

“Oh? Fascinating.” His tone dropped to something flat and cold. “So you didn’t tell anyone where you were going, and you just happened to be present when a special-grade curse appeared at that shrine. All by coincidence?”

You clenched your jaw.

He leaned forward slightly. “I’m not stupid,” he said softly. “You’re involved in something and you’re hiding it from people. Which makes me wonder why you’re really here- and who the hell you’re answering to when I’m not looking.”

“I’m not-” You thought he was going to wait for a response, but he kept pushing. 

“And I think it’s funny how you can miss half of your last year and still be considered a student when you went against literally every rule the school gave us in the syllabus-” You almost snorted at the thought of Naoya actually taking the time to read through a syllabus, but given the circumstance, you had nothing to laugh at. 

You stared at him, pulse uneven in disbelief. While his intuition was partially correct, you weren’t working with someone. He probably had the idea you were working to betray the Jujutsu Council, which wouldn’t exactly be a bad thing- knowing what you know- but still, that was horribly incorrect. You went to open your mouth, before he could push any further, but a rush of air ran down your spine.

“…Naoya,” you whispered, already standing.

His gaze sharpened instantly. “What?”

“Konda,” you said, chest tightening with that sudden bone-deep knowing, “I don’t feel her.”

In a flash you were sprinting down the dark hallway, a sharp feeling in your hip as you ripped up the stairs. Doors slid aside in rapid succession as you checked her bedroom. Naoya’s footsteps followed close behind — the sound of his curses rising under his breath.

“Konda?! Konda!” You threw her sheets in a disheveled heap, panic clawed higher up your throat. You called, but it was like nobody heard. 

Sprinting down the steps, you ignored the way Naoya called after you. “We need to look outside,” you gasped, already yanking your shoes on at the entryway.

Naoya didn’t argue this time. Together you tore into the street, hands fumbling urgently for your phone's flashlight. 

You scoured every inch of road, shouting her name into the neighborhood as streetlamps hummed overhead. Running through parks that smelled like rust and rainwater, shoes soaking wet as you ran through puddles. At one point you clambered over a fence into someone’s garden- flashlight beam bouncing wildly as you trampled through bushes, screaming yourself hoarse.

You ran until your lungs burned, until your legs shook underneath you, sweat soaking your back despite the nip in the night air. Every second stretched brutally long- dread knotting in your gut tighter and tighter until it felt like something inside you would pop from pure anxiety.

“She’s gone-! she’s gone, how the hell did she get this far-”

Naoya snarled beside you, pulling you down another block as though sheer will might force her to appear. His clothes were dusted with gravel now, hair damp with sweat. You had never seen him look so genuinely rattled.

Then, like a thread catching suddenly on a nail- Naoya froze.

“There,” he breathed.

You followed his gaze with a wild jerk.

At the mouth of a quiet cul-de-sac, under the flickering glow of a streetlight, stood a small, familiar form in a pale nightdress.

“Konda!”

You broke into a sprint, heart cracking wide with momentum. Tears burned your eyes as you skidded forward, dropping to your knees in front of her.

She blinked up at you, doe-like and confused. She whispered something, but you couldn't hear it over your own erratic breathing. Reaching out sleepily, she tilted her head. 

You let out a half-hysterical sob of relief, wrapping your arms tightly around her tiny frame and crushing her to your chest. “Don’t ever run off again- I was so worried- I thought-”

Naoya had stopped about six feet away. He wasn’t moving toward either of you.

“…Naoya?” you sniffled, still holding on to Konda. “What’s the deal?" Laughing under your breath, you snorted. "I thought I told you to show more compassion-”

His face had gone unnaturally blank — mouth slightly ajar, brows too still.

“Step back,” he said quietly.

You blinked. “What?”

“Step away from her!” he roared suddenly, the sheer force in his voice enough to make you jolt backward without thinking, stumbling to your feet.

In that same instant the little girl twitched.

Her spine distorted, bones jutting in impossible directions- and before you could scream, her body burst .

Blood hammered across the pavement in a geyser of red- thick chunks of flesh and white splinters of bone raining down in a grotesque fountain. You threw your arms over your face, a hot spray painting your skin and clothes as Naoya dragged you backward, cursing violently.

When you looked up again, there was nothing human left. Just a shredded nightdress tangled around something small and limp, her body twisted into some sort of doll. 

You were shaking, throat refusing to release a sound. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks in disbelief.

“She… she was just-" Your hand came up to wipe at your face, blood smeared all over your finger tips- blood so dark you couldn't even see it against the night sky. "Naoya-”

“Stay behind me,” he growled through his teeth, cursed energy swelling violently as he stepped forward.

A slow clap echoed through the cul-de-sac, as if someone was watching the entire scene with delight. A small figure stepped into a flickering street light.

She looked no more than eight. Hair laid into a messy, uneven bob with bone-like clips, skin ghost-pale, and a stitched-up smile carved into her cheeks- like a porcelain doll split in half. She had piercing yellow eyes and wide, large pupils- like she could stare right through you, and she was. In both hands and slung across her back dangled a collection of mismatched dolls. Porcelain, wood, cloth- each with limbs tied by black cords around their necks. Their button eyes followed you silently, mouths sewn shut by coarse twine.

The girl’s real lips peeled back into a grin that seemed to reach her eyes. “Aw,” she sighed sweetly, voice tinkling like shattered glass. “Hinako was hoping she’d last longer before popping. What a disappointment.”

Naoya’s aura flared to kill. He stepped in front of you, shielding you without looking back.

You couldn’t force your voice above a whisper as your body shook uncontrollably behind him, blood dripping from your fingertips.

“What… the hell-” Your heart had dropped, mind instantly reeling for the memory of the case files. This was your target, you hadn't needed to find her- she had already found you.

The strange curse-user cocked her head, one doll jerking at the motion.

“Upset with what you found?” she hummed. “Don’t worry, Hinako can make all those terrible feelings go away. You don’t need them, do you?”

She raised one delicate hand. All of her dolls lifted their heads in perfect synchronization- strings tightening, before nodding along with her words.

“When I make you into one of my dolls, you won’t ever need to feel again.”

Chapter Text

“Grown-ups never understand Hinako’s games! They say she shouldn’t take other children to play, but the dolls never leave her! They never run away, they never say no-” The curse user before you blinked, an eyelid lagging behind by only a second. “If you stay, Hinako can make you a doll too. You’d be her favorite. Then she could keep you forever and ever.”

You couldn’t breathe, every inhale and exhale caught in the raw cartilage of your throat. Panic slithered its way up your ribcage, animalistic as it raked its claws against the soft meat of your stomach. 

Blood laid in tacky layers across your cheeks, smeared and congealed. It dripped slowly from your hairline like syrup, sliding down your neck into the back of your uniform. Your hands had trembled uselessly as you tried to wipe it away, but it only spread, painting your skin red. The metallic tang of iron coated your tongue, invading your nostrils until it was the only thing you could smell. You could taste it as you swallowed- terrifying proof of everything that just went horrifically wrong. 

Konda- who was just alive- had spontaneously exploded in your arms. You had held her so close, so carefully, and had completely forgotten the reason you had come here in the first place. That she was haunted and there was something- no, someone, after her. The only thing that mattered to you in that moment was that you found her- and regardless of the outcome, you did. She just wasn’t the child you thought she was at all.

She had already been hollowed out and stuffed with cursed energy- a doll wearing fucking human skin. And when she exploded, that same cursed energy rigged inside her detonated point-blank against your ribs- turning her to mere shrapnel in your arms. 

Like some sick joke, it seemed like the world had recognized your persistence to change the timeline and wanted to punish you for it. 

You had hit the ground hard, knees cracking against broken dirt and gravel. Your heartbeat thundered- too loud, too fast- like it wanted out of your body altogether. You had faced your fair share of battles, standing face to face with Sukuna- a god among demons- in your past life, so why was this so terrifying? 

This body of yours was still young, and despite the rigorous training and techniques you had trained into it- it hadn’t yet faced the trauma your mind had over time. It was only natural for a child like yourself to be afraid of death.

Around you the world seemed to blur at the edges, smeared like chalk left in the rain. Somewhere in that smear, cursed energy split the air as a fight continued on. You were having a panic attack, and as much as you wanted to stand, you just couldn’t. 

The last few days had worn you down to the bone. Nightmares and visions kept you from sleeping more than an hour at a time- and when you were awake, you were plagued with the inevitability of the unknown. 

Whatever peace that used to exist back at Jujutsu Tech had only just begun to repair itself, and with Gojo and Geto’s constant persistence to play a part in your ‘plan to save the world’- you could only pray for a reality where you weren’t driven fucking insane in the end.

To be fair, this mission alone was enough to drive anyone crazy. You were constantly tiptoeing around Naoya like there were eggshells in the carpet, fighting over futons and hard pillows- it was all so exhausting. Dealing with Gojo and Geto was one thing, but your past life had not prepared you for the nightmares and responsibility that came with working with Naoya Zenin. 

And then there was the rot spreading quietly inside your chest, the shame of your own misplaced kindness. You had always believed in saving people. That was the whole reason you were here. You had succeeded multiple times- Riko, Toji, Geto- you wanted to think everyone deserved a chance. But that kind of mercy was reckless when you were dealing with those who chose to be cruel. 

A child- Konda- had died because you hesitated. Because you were so focused on finding solutions for others instead of looking at the problem infront of you. How could you save someone who didn’t want to be saved? This Hinako girl was not like Geto, there was no heart left inside for you to reach. 

…How were you supposed to tell her mother? That poor woman who’d begged you to keep her daughter safe- who trusted you to watch her. Maybe- maybe some part of her already knew? Maybe that’s why the house felt like a shrine, every corner built like it was mourning a child that no longer existed. The girl had been marked, used as bait, and stripped of a future before you ever arrived.

It wasn’t like you could just rewind like you always did. You couldn’t just save her- you didn’t even know when she first came in contact with the curse user. You didn’t know how much of your timeline you’d have to sacrifice just to find the moment everything went wrong. Taking a risk like that could setback something important, or change it for good- You couldn’t do that. Not this time.

As you looked over the blood that stained your fingertips, your mind rattled with only one answer:

Konda Yukimura would just have to stay dead.

Naoya’s voice shot straight through the noise like a bullet, scraping your nerves raw. His tone was ragged, frustrated- the sound of someone who was struggling to keep up with the numerous enemies before him. You blinked hard, vision jerking into focus just long enough to catch a glimpse of him across the street.

“Snap the fuck out of it!”

He was fighting like a cornered animal. Sweat-slicked his hair- leaving it wild across his forehead, and his sleeves were torn as blood leaked down one of his arms. You were unsure if it was his, or if it belonged to one of the corpse dolls infront of him. His expression was calculated, like every step he took was planned before he even went to move. He darted, precise, between the bodies that threw themselves in his direction. 

You had been so afraid to meet the curse user on the case file, knowing that when you did- it would mean she would have to die. You didn’t even think of the fact she could kill you first.  

Hinako’s face looked gentle, cherubic, and disturbingly innocent… but her eyes were like pits. Endless, empty, and cruel. Her feet were bare, but surprisingly showed no sign of wear from the elements. Her pale dress was splattered with dry, brown stains, hair shaggy and unkept. She giggled as she moved, flicking her wrists like she was conducting a symphony with the bodies she had collected. 

With every drop of blood that touched the air, dolls wrenched themselves out of puddles- twitching from raw meat into movement. Their limbs dangled as their mouths were stitched shut, low hums leaving their mouth as they tried to scream. Her cursed technique was horrifying. 

If she got ahold of you or Naoya, she could probably turn you into a puppet too. You wondered if it would pull your body apart and stitch it back together, rip your bones from the inside like a marionette’s strings- or would she just make your body explode just like Konda’s? A merciless, but quick death? 

You wondered if Konda felt afraid in your arms, or if you had somehow made her feel just a bit safer before she met her demise.

Naoya was barely keeping Hinako occupied, movements blurring as he ducked and darted, speed flashing like . Even so, you could tell his rhythm was slipping. His breathing was ragged, and his shoulder had been clipped once, or even twice. He was being pushed back inch by inch, desperately trying to keep the enemy from reaching you while you sat frozen in your own head.

His eyes snapped toward you again.

“Are you fucking hearing me? Move, dammit!”

He dodged another spinning curse-enhanced kick from a doll and countered with brutal speed, his heel slamming into the corpse’s ribs- only for its body to twist unnaturally in midair, limbs rearranging like tangled doll joints as it landed with unnatural grace. 

Naoya spat sideways, lips curling into a vicious snarl as sweat ran down his jaw. “Get up! I refuse to die just because you picked this exact moment to lose your shit!” You could hear the sheer strain in his voice as he called out to you again. 

Standing meant admitting what you already knew. You never wanted to kill anyone, not even in your old life- but wishing for redemption only worked if the person you were begging to change actually wanted salvation. 

Rage churned hot in your gut, angry at no one but yourself. You had fooled yourself into believing you could save this girl, the same way you once saved Geto- that compassion and belief would be enough to pull someone back from the brink. But now Naoya was out there fighting for his life because you had wasted time clinging to a fantasy.

Your teeth ground together with disgust as you forced yourself upright. This was your mess. You owed blood for what had happened. Even if it felt wrong- even if it made you sick- you were done pretending.

From across the clearing, Naoya’s gaze snapped toward you, and for a fleeting second his usual arrogance thinned. His brows twitched at the sudden, violent shift in your expression- gone was your panic. Instead, he saw something he hadn’t seen from you before.

Good. Let him see.

You lifted, pushing yourself forward and cursing yourself under your breath. Your hands curled into fists, slick with someone else’s blood. If you had to sin to fix this, then so be it- you’d carry that weight alone.

You darted forward, launching yourself back into the battlefield with growing speed. The cul-de-sac had been surged by a number of small animated dolls, bodies conjugated from the blood that pooled from Konda’s body. You swore if you looked hard enough, you might find her features in their faces. 

With a sharp pivot, you drove your heel down and shattered the reanimated corpse’s skull, bone and rot collapsing under the impact. The force carried you into a forward spin, and before the first body even dropped, your hand snapped onto the next corpse’s shoulder, fingers locking in with precision. Cursed energy flared from your palm, ready to tear straight through it.

Its body rewound on contact, bone liquifying back into chalky marrow until all that remained were damp piles of discarded mush. The grotesque thing barely had time to twitch before it unraveled, blood instinctively being flicked from your fingers. 

You spun on one hand, legs slicing a perfect cartwheel-kick through the temple of another. Using your momentum, you grabbed it by the ankle. The cursed corpse jerked violently as the timeline forked under your palm. In less than a breath, it reverted backward- tendon collapsing, ribs folding inward, squeezing its own organs until it crumpled like a paper bag.

Your feet barely touched the ground. 

From the far end of the courtyard, Hinako twitched. Her head tipped wrong- too sharp, too birdlike- and her eyes lost their playful sparkle. Instead, they fixed on you. And just like that, Naoya was forgotten.

Her grin widened, a manic giggle choking out of her throat. “Looks like someone else finally wants to play!” She clapped her small cursed, blood-coated hands together like a child at a birthday party. 

Naoya attempted to throw a kick at her head from behind, but with a sudden jerk of her body, she bent all the way back- hands on the ground behind her as if she was about to perform a back handspring. She released a low growl from her throat, before landing back on her feet farther away from him. 

All at once, more dolls erupted from the pools of blood that covered the street- corpses twisted with claw-like hands, torsos even made out of stretched faces. This spitting image of a nightmare charged straight at you.

You darted toward the first wave, skidding low. You used one corpse’s knee like a jump-box and vaulted over another’s swinging arms. You spun midair, ignoring the way one of the dolls’ claws nearly raked your stomach. Your heel smashed downward through a skull, landing in a crouch and slam-punching your palm into its sternum. Its chest exploded inward, reversing until its very ribcage shrank down to warped cartilage, vanishing in a splash of viscera.

Pivoting on your heel, you drove your elbow into a corpse’s jaw, body tight between two attackers- but you never wasted a movement. One touch? Rewind. Another touch- Dead. Each kill was clean, terrifyingly surgical. Cursed blood smeared your arms, flicking into spirals with every strike and dodge.

Blood misted the air. Your breath puffed out steady, swift, alive. Your heartbeat no longer panicked. It pounded with purpose.

From somewhere behind you, Naoya rumbled out a low whistle as he watched you tear through corpse after corpse. There was something scalding behind it- a gleam of admiration making his tone rougher than before.

“Well, shit…” He lifted his hand in the familiar rectangular sign- the silver light of Projection Sorcery flickering at his fingertips once more. “…About time you stopped embarrassing me.”

The little girl laughed, like this was a game- like the blood of children hadn’t been manipulated and used to create this disgusting perversion of life. 

Naoya’s fingers snapped into a familiar frame, thumb and forefinger forming the outline of a rectangle in front of his face.

Projection Sorcery.

The world slowed, then fractured into crisp frames only he could feel. One second stretched into twenty-four. His body shot forward, locked into the route he had calculated in the space of a heartbeat.

Hinako smiled as though she had all the time in the world. Until she didn’t.

To her, Naoya simply vanished. 

One moment he stood ten feet away with blood dripping from his jaw- the next, he blitzed across the courtyard in a silver blur, every snap of his joints cutting through air like a knife. His heel arched up into a spinning kick- precisely at frame sixteen- slicing across her shoulder with bone-splitting force. His fingertips grazed her porcelain-cool skin at frame seventeen, passing his curse energy directly into her body.

Hinako lurched, head twisting damn near backward, limbs snapping and twitching like loose wires as she scrambled to reorganize herself- but the moment Naoya’s cursed technique brushed against her skin, the game changed.

She attempted to recoil, but she couldn't keep up with the rhythm he imposed. She hesitated for a fraction too long. Her joints seized, limbs snapping into a twisted pose as her body locked mid-motion. 

“One fucking second,” he whispered, already stepping into his next perfectly mapped movement. “that’s all I need to rip that creepy little head off your goddamn shoulders.”

He was already moving into another Projection. Hands flicking, he laid out a brutal path across the girl’s torso- knee to sternum, elbow to throat, heel to temple- 24 frames of perfectly spaced execution. To everyone else, it would look like a blur; to him, it was artwork.

But just before frame twenty-two, right as his heel swung toward the side of her glassy eyeball, something twitched in your peripheral. A puddle of blood behind him rippled.

You spotted it a heartbeat too late- a second doll, half-buried in a slick puddle of blood behind Naoya. It rose like a grotesque landmine, jerking upright on crooked legs with a wet, sucking sound.

Even as Naoya’s kick connected and sent the girl’s body cracking sideways with a thunderous spin, the puppet struck, arm launching forward like a spring-loaded spear. Its arm ended in a rusted, needle-like spike with fragments of rib bone. It shot forward, piston-fast, aimed straight for the soft underside of Naoya’s jaw- and Naoya, mid-Projection, couldn’t change course.

“Move!” you screamed, panic igniting your limbs. You didn’t think.

Your body moved before your thoughts could catch up. One moment you were across the street, the next, you were sprinting straight into the path of the oncoming enemy. In the flicker of frames between Naoya’s projected movements, you shoved yourself forward, shoulder-first, absorbing the attack that had been meant for his throat.

The spike stabbed deep into your collarbone. Pain exploded outward in a hot, white burst. The cursed doll’s limb twisted, trying to drive the weapon further, but your hand snapped up and grabbed its wrist mid-push. Blood poured down your shirt, metallic and warm- but you didn’t let go.

Naoya’s projection finished a heartbeat later. His heel connected with the little girl's jaw, sending her spinning across the street. His body completed its final frame, landing perfectly balanced with poison-slick precision.

Then he turned just in time to see you standing there, impaled through the shoulder- shaking- and holding the doll in a death-grip.

His eyes widened, first with shock- then something far sharper, far uglier- rage?

“You stupid-” With a snarl, Naoya blurred forward, knee slamming into the body of the puppet. Its arm that laid in your shoulder snapped off, leaving the doll rolling before Naoya’s foot slammed into its head. 

His hands were suddenly on you- gripping your arms, dragging you closer like he had the right. “Are you fucking insane?!”

You hissed but didn’t flinch as you ripped the needle out of your own shoulder. Pain thundered down your arm, but you held eye contact- breathing hard even as blood pulsed thick and fast down your sleeve.

“I was closer,” you managed, voice hoarse. “You could’ve gotten hurt-” 

Naoya looked down at you, chest rising and falling in opposition to yours. Sweaty bangs shadowed his sharp eyes, gold specs flickering over your face as you spoke. There was blood on his lip, and something dangerous lurking in his expression- caught halfway between anger and something terrifyingly close to fear.

Then, without warning, he hauled you roughly in by your collar, foreheads almost touching. His breath ghosted across your lips, warm, furious, intimate.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he murmured, voice low. “If I want a meat shield I’ll grab someone weaker. You-” His hands tightened on your shirt. “… you are not allowed to die in front of me. Got it?”

For a second, you forgot about the bleeding. You forgot about the battlefield. All you could feel was him- the heat of his body, the harsh grip, the terrifying care buried under all that venom. Your heart thudded unevenly, dangerously close to rattling out of your chest.

But then the air shifted.

The curse-user rose slowly from the rubble Naoya had sent her crashing into. Half her face was caved in, skin cracked with one eye dangling lower than the other- but she still smiled. Her voice came out wet and sweet.

“The voices speak to Hinako…. She wants to play a different game.”

Naoya’s fingers slid from your shirt, hand brushing down your arm softly before he stepped forward and cracked his neck.

He didn’t turn back toward you when he spoke, but his tone was softer now, as if he finally trusted you to stand beside him. “You gonna stand there bleeding like a dumbass...” His hand flexed at his side, ready to make that frame again. “or are you gonna fight with me?”

Geto’s room was too neat for the company it kept.

That was Shoko’s first thought when she walked in- clean tatami, the faint trace of cedar polish, incense stick burned to ash in the corner. The air carried order and restraint, like Geto himself. The kind of space meant for calm reflection, not what she was about to unleash.

And then, there they were: Gojo Satoru, stretched across the floor like a crime scene outline, lanky limbs everywhere, glasses propped against his forehead as his hair defied gravity; Geto Suguru, seated properly on his knees beside him, the very picture of composure except for the way his hands rested too tightly in his lap.

Two opposites, two prodigies, but most importantly- two absolute fucking idiots.

Shoko swung Geto’s desk chair around and straddled it backwards, chin on the backrest and cigarette already lit. She fixed them both with the flat expression of a disappointed mother.

She had tried her best to remain indifferent about the situation that laid itself between you and the boys, but Shoko was your friend first. Besides, all contact between her and them had severed the day she discovered Gojo and Geto were officially a couple. 

You had told her about the kiss Geto gave you in your feigned sleep on the subway train- how you were always put into a tough spot between them- but she also knew deep down that some part of you liked them. She felt betrayed for you when she realized their declaration of a relationship was in response to the shrine incident. 

It was true she didn’t know the full extent of what had happened at the shrine or with your brother, or why you rushed into a fight you weren’t prepared for. She hoped it wasn’t to self inflict some sort of damage- but regardless, she trusted you enough to never ask. 

She trusted you to not lie to her about something so important. 

As for why Geto and Gojo were so upset, she chalked it up to fragile egos and seemingly unrequited feelings. 

“You two,” she said, exhaling smoke from her lips, “are idiots.”

Gojo cracked one eye open, smirk already tugging at his lips.

Shoko jabbed the cigarette in his direction before he could get a word out. “Don’t even start. Not one word.”

His mouth closed with an audible click.

“Do you have any idea,” she continued, voice sharp enough to cut, “how much damage you did? You didn’t just ‘mess up.” Her eyes flicked between them, narrowed. “Both of you. Do you know what that looks like? Do you know how that felt for her?”

This was the first time Shoko finally sat down and really spoke with them, two to one- without you. 

Geto’s shoulders tightened. He bowed his head, hair falling like a curtain. “Yes, Shoko.”

“Yes, Shoko,” Gojo echoed automatically, though the usual smugness in his tone was stripped down to bare obedience.

Shoko dragged on her cigarette, exhaled slow. “You don’t get it, do you? She stopped talking to you- ghosted you! Then she just walked into a mission half-dead inside, got herself nearly killed, and ended up in a real hospital because my hands weren’t enough.” She leaned forward, eyes hard. “And you think you had nothing to do with that?”

“You kissed her against her will, Suguru- that’s fucking weird! I don’t care if she likes you- or liked you, considering that feeling is probably long gone now-!” Geto’s head perked up in shock- that at some point you must’ve liked him. “And Gojo, what the fuck is your problem?! Going into her hospital room after the fact and just- laying it on her that you hate her guts when you DONT?!” 

“Yes, Shoko,” Geto murmured again, quieter now. Gojo’s similar gesture wasn’t far behind.

Shoko’s lips curled into something bitter. “Pathetic. You’re supposed to be the strongest. Instead, you’re just selfish boys who couldn’t keep your hands- or your egos- to yourselves.”

Gojo’s chest twitched like he wanted to argue. Instead, his head dipped lower. He rolled his eyes nearly into the back of his head. From Principal Yaga to Chiyo-Sensei, Satoru Gojo would rather go deaf than to ever ‘learn a lesson’ again. 

Shoko scoffed, smoke curling from her nose. “You sound like kids in detention.”

Gojo’s mouth twitched despite himself.

“Yes, Shoko.” They both chorused, Gojo’s voice on the tail end as his grin fought its way through.

And then, inevitably, he snorted.

It started quiet, just a crack in his composure, but once it slipped out, it spread like wildfire. His shoulders shook, he pressed a hand over his mouth, and then a full cackle burst free.

Geto gave him a sidelong look. His lips twitched before he cracked as well, and a chuckle slipped out despite his best efforts. He bowed his head again, but his shoulders betrayed him, shaking with laughter.

Shoko blinked slowly, disbelieving. “You’re laughing?”

Gojo wheezed, clutching his stomach. “I can’t—I can’t help it! You sound just like Principal Yaga!”

“Yes, Shoko-Sensei,” Geto murmured under his breath, and that was it—both of them dissolved, Gojo’s raucous cackling tangled with Geto’s quieter laugh until it was unbearable.

Shoko’s eyes narrowed. “Do you two want to die? Because I can arrange that.”

Gojo, tears of laughter on his cheeks, leaned into Geto’s shoulder without thinking, still giggling. In the same reckless, brainless impulse that defined half his life, he turned to grab him by the face and kissed him.

Geto startled, eyes widening, but the laugh didn’t stop. He leaned into it, chuckling against Gojo’s mouth, returning it with indulgence rather than surprise, as if this was just one more ridiculous antic.

Shoko gagged so hard she nearly choked on her cigarette. “Oh for—Ew! Absolutely not. Both of you, out the window. Swan dive! Go go go-”

Gojo pulled back with a wicked grin. “What, jealous?”

“Yes,” Shoko said dryly. “Jealous that I can’t bleach my brain like my eyes-”

Geto chuckled under his breath. “She’s serious.”

“I know,” Gojo said cheerfully, throwing an arm over his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Shoko ground her cigarette into the mug with enough force to chip the ceramic. Beneath her disgust, though, she couldn’t miss the way their laughter faded whenever you came up. The girl they’d hurt. Their friend. 

They thought they were hiding it, but the guilt was painted across their faces in neon.

Geto’s voice cut through, lower now. “How do you think Obi-Chan’s doing? On the mission.”

Finally, Shoko thought. A shred of sincerity.

She pulled out her phone, scrolled lazily, then snorted. “Oh, she’s doing fine. Better than fine. She’s in a hotel with Naoya.” Turning her phone, she showed a list of messages from a familiar number. 

The silence that followed was delicious.

Gojo’s head snapped up so fast Shoko was sure it was going to break off. “She’s what!?”

“They’re sharing the same room?” Geto blinked, brows furrowed.

“Mmhm.” Shoko wiggled her phone. “Not even that- I heard it was only one bed. My favorite trope. Guess she’s not as lonely as you think.” 

Gojo stared, then burst out laughing, but this time it was sharp, incredulous- almost deranged. “Naoya? No way. That guy? Please. He probably can’t even get it up without whining about clan politics first.”

“True. Compared to you…” Geto trailed off, smirking.

Gojo leaned back, smug as he threw his arms behind his head. “Exactly. What does he have that we don’t?” He reached out and patted Geto’s knee like they were sharing some secret truth. “You’re amazing, Suguru. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Shoko’s jaw dropped. Unbelievable. They were not worried about your safety, not worried you might be uncomfortable. No. They’re busy comparing themselves to Naoya like it’s a size contest.

“You two,” she said aloud, voice flat with disgust, “-are hopeless. You’re obsessed and it’s stupid.”

Gojo gasped dramatically. “Us? Obsessed with her? Or with each other?”

“Both,” Shoko replied instantly. “And either way, I want you dead.”

Geto leaned his head against Gojo’s shoulder, lips tugging in a smile. “She’s not wrong.”

Gojo smirked wider. “Eh. Maybe. But we’re fun.”

Shoko lit another cigarette, muttering around the filter. “Fun until you ruin her life again. And when that happens, don’t expect me to say anything except ‘I told you so.’ and then a ‘fuck you’ after it.” 

The words landed sharp. They deserved it.

Because beneath all the jokes, beneath their idiot grins and posturing, Shoko could still see it: two guilty boys who knew they’d crossed a line they could never uncross, and no amount of laughter could hide that.

Shoko’s lighter clicked again, flame flaring in the quiet room. She lit a new cigarette with sharp, practiced movements, almost like the ritual would keep her from wringing both their necks. The silence that hung after her last words was heavier than incense smoke.

“You’re lucky, you know,” she said finally, tone flat, eyes narrowed through the haze. “Lucky she even talks to you…. Lucky she gave you a second chance at all.”

Gojo tilted his head, moving to stand up as he patted off his pants. His smirk was gone. “Second chance?” he repeated, his voice deceptively calm. “You think this is forgiveness?”

Shoko raised a brow.

“She hasn’t forgiven us,” he continued, walking to Geto’s desk- clearly to avoid a heads on conversation. “Not really. She’s just…letting us make it up to her. Letting us stay close because cutting us off completely would hurt her more than she wants to admit. That’s not forgiveness. That’s mercy.” He touched some small figurine that sat on his boyfriend's desk, lazily knocking it over with the weight of his finger. 

The bluntness in his voice startled even Geto. “Satoru-” 

Shoko narrowed her eyes. “That’s bullshit.”

Gojo blinked, almost amused by her sharpness.

“Don’t twist it into some noble act on her part,” Shoko snapped. “She cares about you. Too much, if you ask me. After everything, she still cares enough to let you back in.” She flicked ash into the mug. “And for the life of me, I don’t know why.”

There was a stillness in the air, Gojo’s hard stare focused on Shoko. He obviously knew you cared, but there was something that ate away at him. The fact you were in love with the idea of a Gojo that wasn’t… him. 

Geto bowed his head lower, his voice soft. “I don’t know either.”

Shoko’s gaze cut to him.

“I’m grateful,” Geto said, the words quiet but heavy. “Grateful she let me close again, even after I-” He broke off, jaw tightening. “It was shameful. Embarrassing. I overstepped and I put our relationship at risk when I should’ve just told her how I felt.”  

“I went through.. Something i’m not sure I could make it back from on my own. She’s the reason i’m here and on that day- in that moment- there was this rush of emotion and gratitude that I.. let take advantage of me.” His shoulders hunched slightly. “And she still…she still cared enough to let me sit at her side.”

It was quiet for a moment, a frown from Gojo as he reached out to comfort his partner. Suguru’s feelings hadn’t been a popular topic for many reasons, and anytime he spoke of them.. Well, it was clear there was something truly scary people had ignored before. It was a blessing they would never have to see how it originally would’ve played out, according to your details of the past. 

Shoko snorted, bitter and sharp. “Yeah, I’d be embarrassed too. Both of you should be.” She jabbed the cigarette in his direction like an accusation. “You were awful. You don’t get points for realizing it after she almost died. Apologies mean nothing without effort.”

“Yeah,” Geto admitted. “You’re right.”

Gojo said nothing this time. Moving back to his spot against the wall, legs sprawled out, arms draped carelessly over his knees—but the set of his mouth was tight, his usual grin absent.

The silence that followed stretched out, awkward and raw. Even the smoke seemed to hang heavier, unwilling to dissipate.

Shoko sighed finally, resting her chin on the back of the chair again, her tone softening—not kind, but honest. “I miss it, you know. Before all this. When we were just…friends. All of us. When I didn’t have to watch my back every second, or wonder which one of you was going to screw up next, or worry if she was okay, if you were okay.”

Neither boy moved.

“I hate it,” Shoko continued, her voice quieter now, eyes fixed on some point beyond them. “Hate that I feel out of the loop in my own circle. Like the two of you share something I’m not part of. Like she’s slipping further away every day, and one of these mornings I’ll wake up to find out she’s gone. Dead. And no one bothered to tell me because I.. was left behind.” 

Her words landed in the room like a bomb—simple, brutal, and inescapable. For a long moment, nobody breathed.

Then Gojo shifted, the careless tilt of his body breaking just slightly. His voice, when it came, was softer than either of them expected. “Shoko.”

She glanced at him, unimpressed.

“You matter to us,” he said. No smirk, no deflection, just raw sincerity. “You’re not out of the loop- Not really. You’re part of us—whether we’re idiots or not. And yeah, we’ve screwed up. Badly. But don’t think for a second that we don’t care about you.” 

Shoko not knowing about the truth of your reality hopping wouldn't kill her. Hopefully. 

Geto nodded beside him, voice low but steady. “He’s right. We care about you, Shoko. You’re not…replaceable. I’m sorry we haven’t exactly been… the most pleasant to be around, I think we’re just- going through some weird change.”

Shoko froze, cigarette halfway to her lips. Her throat bobbed once, twice. Change? She hated that word. Looking away, she covered the sharp twist in her chest with a scoff. “God, you’re both pathetic.” But the edge in her voice had dulled, worn down into something sadder.

Gojo grinned faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, maybe.” 

Geto hummed in agreement.

The room went quiet again, but it wasn’t quite the same silence as before. Less suffocating. More fragile. 

Shoko sighed and finally tapped out the cigarette for good. She stared at the crushed filter for a long time before setting it down. “…I just don’t want to lose you,” she admitted finally, the words barely audible.

Gojo leaned his head back against the wall, pale lashes visible. “You won’t,” he said, tone firm, almost like a promise.

Geto’s voice followed, steady, certain. “We won’t let that happen.”

Shoko didn’t respond, not right away. She just sat there, lips pressed tight, eyes a little too glossy in the dim light. And for once, all three of them let the silence sit. Not awkward. Not angry. Just heavy with the truth they were too young, too reckless, and too scared to say out loud any other way.

When Shoko finally pushed up from the chair and stubbed out her cigarette, the quiet that followed her departure was deafening. Her steps faded down the hall, the door clicking shut behind her, and it was like the air thinned out instantly—like the room had been drained of oxygen, but the two of them were still stubbornly breathing it.

The room was dim, washed only by the moons blue glow through the window. Neither of them spoke at first. Gojo sat with his sunglasses discarded beside him, while Geto leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped.

Geto hummed, eyes wandering around the silence of his room. “You’re awfully quiet.”

Gojo didn’t look at him. “If I start talking, I don’t know if I’ll stop.” His voice came out softer than he intended.

“…Then speak.”

Satoru exhaled, slow and uneven. “Now that we know everything, I’m having a hard time… understanding where anything stands. Before all this- before we were together- you liked her, didn’t you?”

“..Obinata-San is the only one who saw me for what I was.” Suguru cleared his throat, eyes casted low. “She knew I was hurting and went out of her way to save me from… well, a future where I didn’t exist. She wanted me here.”

Gojo’s fingers twitched. “Well, I wanted you here too. But apparently, without her intervention, the world still went to hell. And we-”

He stopped. Saying we died felt bizarre. Wrong. Distant and real all at once. 

“We were supposed to be dead. Both of us.”

Suguru nodded, hand coming up to push the hair from his face. “Regardless of my existence here, she sacrificed the happiness she had with you. You were engaged. She… gave up her life to come back. It must have hurt her to see how we turned away from her.”

“All of this time, I used to think she was lazy in class and ultimately unreliable- A sorcerer who would inevitably... die off and I wouldn’t notice.” That was the fate of most Jujutsu Sorcerers. They were pushed into the real world, only to be taken out before they even started living. It sounded awful, but if Mei-Mei or someone of the like happened to disappear… He wouldn’t even think twice. “But to know that now she’s.. Doing something I cant…”

The word hung heavy.

Geto didn’t interrupt.

Satoru’s voice dropped, quieter. “She manipulated an entire timeline. Alone. She watched us die. And then she came back here- to this point- pretending she didn’t just see an outcome that left the world in ruin-” His breath shook once. “I looked down on her. I dismissed her. I-”

“You underestimated her,” Geto finished gently. Not accusing- just factual. “We’re all guilty of it.”

“...When I see her, my heart feels like it’s dying.” Gojo whispered, his hands clenching around the material of his pants.. “Why is that?”

“...Love is the greatest curse of all, Satoru.” 

“I don’t want her to choose someone else, or some other life, or some other fate! I don’t want her to look at me like I’m already gone!” His fingers trembled, and he hid it by digging his nails into his palms.

Geto’s eyes softened—not pity, but something steadier. Fiercer.

“Then we don’t make her fight alone. Not this time.” He moved to stand, hands running through his hair as he reached for the hairtie on his wrist.  “But if you’re asking for guarantees- there aren’t any. She might choose a life without us.”

The words landed like a blade, but they were true. 

“All we can do is give her reasons to stay. Not fear. Not pressure. Not guilt. Just… us. As we are now. Not the ghosts she remembers. You are not the Gojo Satoru she came back for. Stop obsessing over a man who doesn’t exist, it’ll only rot your heart.” 

Silence settled again- heavy, but not empty.

Gojo shut his eyes. For once, there was no bravado, no arrogance, no mask. Just a man who was terrified he had already lost the person who rewrote time for him.

His voice was barely audible as he moved to stand as well. “Well, I want her to choose us.”

Geto let his arms fall as he shook out his hair, the bun tight as hair threatened to falll. “So do I.” There was a quiet beat between them. “But she has to be free to choose. Or it means nothing.”

And in that moonlit room, two men who had died in another life sat breathing in the weight of the second chance they were terrified of wasting.

Hinako had led you deeper into a part of the neighborhood that had never been finished. Streets ended abruptly in piles of cracked concrete and uneven dirt, foundations of half-built houses jutting from the ground like broken teeth. Steel frames reached up into the black sky, intersected by splintered wood and dangling rebar. 

Dust swirled thickly around your feet with every step, clinging to the air. Loose sheets of plywood rattled against the structures with the wind. The buildings were hollow shells, floors incomplete or missing entirely, leaving gaping gaps down to jagged steel and dirt.

Naoya fell into step beside you, fists faintly crackling with cursed energy. “Great,” he muttered, voice low. “Of course this bitch brings us to the most inconvenient spot.” His eyes flicked to a leaning beam and dangling scaffolding. “Everything’s a trap. One wrong move and all this shit comes down with it.” 

“...This is a cruel reminder to never have children.” Shaking your head, you scoffed. You moved to brush the hair from your face, but halted- You were still covered in Konda’s remains. You just wanted to shower.

Snorting, Naoya peered over at you. “You want kids?”

“I don’t really know.” 

You and Satoru had talked about the possibility when you had gotten engaged- more so, he had a… certain fatuation for dirty talk in the bedroom. You weren’t sure anything would come from it, as Gojo seemed hellbent on never continuing his family blood line- but a part of you always wanted some sort of… life with him. 

Your family had installed that guilt in you long ago- that maybe a clan such as yours was removed from this world for a reason. Who were you to continue it? 

It was all for naught, considering that Gojo didn’t exist anymore.

“Did you want kids, Naoya? No offense, I can’t see you as the doting father type..” Laughing, you rubbed your arm anxiously. The thought of Satoru still remained strong in your mind. You missed him, but you knew you eventually had to let it go. 

Scoffing, the Zenin gave you a questionable glance. “I’d have children no matter what, doesn’t matter if I wanted them. Besides, i’d only be involved if the offspring was a boy- and it will be.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek, eyes hardening. Damn, their culture was deep rooted. No wonder Toji ran so far from it… and no wonder Megumi ended up with Gojo. You couldn’t imagine him living the same fate the Zenin clan had laid out for its members. 

He shoved a hand through his hair. “Are you in shape to keep fighting? If you’re worthless on the battlefield, I will go forward on my own. I don’t need you to be an inconvenience and your shoulder took a hit-” It was more than a hit, considering the large gaping hole that was left right beneath your collarbone.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, thanks to you.” He made a noise in offense, before you held up your hands in defeat. “But thank you for the concern. I’m fine to keep going, besides, you’re here as backup. This is my mission.”

Naoya took a moment to look at you, eyes unsure as they narrowed over your features. You couldn’t tell if his face was red from frustration or.. something else. “Whatever, you’re fucking weird.” 

Pulling away from the silence between you, he broke forward towards one of the houses. “I can move some of the shit around with my projection attacks. Collapse some of the walls, redirect some debris… i’ll try to make a clear path for you if things get difficult.”

You nodded, tightening your fingers . “Alright, just don’t take out the whole structure on me.” Your voice was calm, but inside your stomach twisted with nerves.

Naoya gave a short laugh, cracking his knuckles. "It depends on what I'm feeling like. Just… stay on your feet. These gaps in the floors aren’t exactly small, and I don’t want you falling and dying from a fucking concussion.” Walking inside, he only gestured for you to follow.

You rolled your eyes, stepping carefully over a broken section of foundation. It was if you had been it by a car or something- but was Naoya Zenin trying to be.. Nice?

 “Awe, don’t like seeing me get hurt-?”

And then, because God fucking hates you, something snapped.

Your eyes shot downward just in time to see a swollen, sinewy hand- more meat than bone- reaching up through a split between the floorboards. Its nails scraped against the wood as it grasped for your ankle.

“Shit-!” 

Before you could leap back, the floor buckled and the hole widened with it.

As if right on time, Naoya’s arm hooked around your waist and yanked you hard against him. Your feet left the floor, the curse’s hand slicing through empty air as the rotted body tumbled back into the dark below. Its screech cut off in a wet crack against the foundation.

You landed against Naoya’s chest, breath caught, the dust around you settling in a haze.

For a moment, there was only the creak of unstable beams and your pulse thundering in your ears.

“Watch your footing,” Naoya muttered, tone flat and unimpressed. “Embarrassing way to die. I don’t feel like dragging your corpse out of a hole.”

You choked on a breath, stunned by the last few seconds. Reality snapped back in a rush and you jerked instinctively, only to realize you were pinned—held flush against Naoya’s chest. His arm was locked around you like you weighed nothing.

“Well,” you rasped, “I was handling it. You could at least thank me for being quick on my feet.”

He scoffed outright, not loosening his grip. “If anyone’s owed thanks, it’s me.”

You shoved at his chest, heat climbing your face. “I can stand. Let go. I’m fine.”

“I doubt it.” He still didn’t release you. His voice dipped, sardonic and casually cruel. “Women get sentimental and trip over their own feet, then expect everyone else to clean up the mess. I don’t have time for that.”

Your eye twitched. There it was. “God, you really don’t waste a single opportunity to be a misogynistic asshole, do you?”

“Maybe if you stopped almost dying within arm’s reach, I wouldn’t have to carry you around.” You could hear the smug grin in his voice. “Be grateful I prefer you in one piece. It’s the only way you’re even remotely pleasant to look at.”

You rolled your eyes and tried to step back again. This time, he let you go- but slow, like he was making a point of it. His hand brushed your side once more before falling away, the contact annoyingly deliberate.

“I could’ve handled it,” you muttered.

“Sure,” he said. “Right after falling through the floor and screaming my name for help.”

Your brow twitched. “You really are insufferable.”

“And you’re slow,” he replied, stepping past you and surveying the shattered boards with a lazy glance. “But I don’t plan on dying here, so try to keep up. If you fall again, I’m not diving after you twice.”

A soft giggle floated from above and the moment was gone, replaced by danger. But that lingering tension- unwanted, inconvenient, stupid- stayed lodged in your chest.

You exhaled. “Fine. You clear a path, I’ll erase anything that gets close. Just don’t drop a building on me.”

Naoya glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowed, mouth tugging into an arrogant half-smile.

“Stay light on your feet and don’t get distracted. And hey- if you really need to cling to me again…” His voice dipped, mocking. “Try asking next time.”

You wanted to hit him. You wanted to scrub off the feeling of his touch, erase the heat he’d left on your skin. More than anything, you wanted him to just shut the hell up. You’d dealt with arrogant bastards before- plenty of them- but being flirted with by Naoya Zenin of all people? Absolutely not.

What rattled you wasn’t the fact that he was doing it on purpose- it was the way your heart stuttered against your ribs in response. Too fast. Too loud. Worse than any curse you’d just faced.

Adrenaline. It had to be adrenaline. There was no universe where it was anything else.

​​Laughing aloud, you took a step towards the hole in the floor. “And suddenly falling to my death in a pit full of curses sounds like a lovely idea-” 

“What?” Naoya barked, eyes narrowing as he doubled back just to look at you. It was as if the joke you made truly did insult him. 

“Joking- jooooking, haha im so funny-” Shaking your hands rapidly in front of you, you found yourself following quickly after him, careful to step over any holes that threatened to suck you in.

Naoya was already moving fast, strides ahead of you with an air of infuriating arrogance, fists pulsing as his cursed energy condenses. His projection slammed into a leaning scaffold; wood exploding outward in a shower of splinters that arc toward a wall. Upon impact, the thin wall came clattering down- a cluster of cursed dolls revealed behind it. They staggered, limbs jerking as the momentum of the wall yanked them off balance- it was truly a visual out of a horror movie.

“Get on it!” Naoya calls, voice clipped. It’s not polite; it’s efficient. You obey.

You vault over a gap in the floor, boots kicking up dust and bits of plaster as the first doll scrabbled up to meet you. Its porcelain face cracked- eyes black and dead. This used to be someone. 

You don’t think about it. You reach out, fingers closing around the ragged fabric of its collar. 

The doll folded inward like a film strip being wound backward. Flesh and bone convulsed; blood shot out from a mouth that never formed words properly, spray catching in the stale air. No body, no scream. Just a smear on the floor. You breathe through the aftertaste of iron, feeling the way your fingertips seem to remember the texture of absence.

“Nice,” Naoya says, almost casually, as he redirects a falling beam with a hard projected strike and turns it into a barricade. “Try not to make that look too enjoyable.” His tone is mocking, but his eyes are scanning, calculating trajectories by instinct. He shoves a knuckle into a half-built wall; concrete flakes, dust blooms, and a second wave of dolls that had been converging stumble and slide through the gap you’d just passed.

You slide behind the debris, chest heaving. “Do you ever shut up?” you muttered.

Another doll leaps- smaller and faster. You shuttered at the thought of what it once looked like- if it was just another child like Konda was. 

It snapped for your wrist. Instinctively you twisted, palm meeting porcelain, and the world lurched again. This one came apart with more noise: a wet tearing, choked clack as its neck snapped backward in recoil as it vanished. The floor beneath you was a chaos of red and dark fibers, and for a second you closed your eyes against it.

“You okay?” Naoya asks, though it’s more precise than sympathy. He’s monitoring you like a teammate, at least.

You coughed, wiping your hand on your thigh. “Don’t sound so worried. I’m fine.”

The deeper you and Naoya moved into the half-built house, the more the structure felt like it was breathing with you- quiet, hollow, and waiting. The unfinished interior was a skeletal maze of exposed beams, support studs, and yawning gaps where floors and walls should have been. Sawdust and plaster dust coated every surface. Loose plastic sheeting fluttered like spirits in the draft that leaked in from cracks in the roof.

A staircase with no railing zig-zagged up through the center of the building, swaying under its own weight. Above, through the missing sections of ceiling and roof, you could see her.

Hinako.

Perched on a high support beam like a bird on a rotting branch- her bare feet pointed inward, toes curled over the wood, one hand resting on a dangling rope of electrical wiring. Her head lolled slightly, as if listening. 

A single doll hung upside-down from a loose strap on her wrist.

Naoya scoffed under his breath. “Of course she’s up there. Like some ugly ornament.”

You snorted. “You scared of heights?”

“I’m scared of nothing,” he replied, rolling his shoulder forward. “Let’s finish this already.”

But Hinako didn’t meet your eyes. Instead, she pressed her a kiss to the upside-down doll… then let it drop.

The doll hit the plywood floor below with a soft thud.

And then it burst.

Flesh spilled out like wet clay, molding and swelling, tendons stretching into rope-thick limbs. Hands grew by the dozen- small, pale, child-sized- splitting off from each other and forming a mass that rose and rose and rose until it filled the center of the house.

Faces emerged in the flesh. Tiny faces. Tear-streaked faces. Screaming faces.

And at the center, right where a heart should be-

Konda. The face was unmistakably hers. 

Tear-swollen, cheeks streaked with dirt, hair matted in dried blood. Her mouth opened in a sound that did not belong in a child’s throat.

“Help us… help us…help..”

Hundreds of voices layered beneath hers, warped and cracking, begging and sobbing and shrieking until the sound shook in your teeth.

Your blood ran cold. And then it boiled.

Naoya scoffs. “Tch. That’s… disgusting.”

“Shut up,” you snap, jaw tight. “You don’t get to talk about them like that.”

“Why? They’re dead.” His eyes sharpened. “Or did you forget why we’re here?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Anger was already crawling up your throat like bile.

The monster lurched, its many arms slamming into beams and boards, tearing chunks of wood and drywall apart as it reached for you. Naoya flickered ahead in a blur- Projection Sorcery activating- forcing the monster’s front arms into staggered, awkward frames. Its movement stuttered, giving you space to sprint.

“I’ll open a path,” Naoya barked. “You just need to kill that thing! Don’t get emotional, don’t you fucking dare- just focus and go for the kill.”

More arms crashed through, grabbing at air, at beams, at anything. One nearly snagged your ankle. Another grazed your arm. You ducked, pivoted, and slammed your hand into what you thought was a wrist-

Flesh melted backward in time, skin split, bone liquified. The arm unraveled in a bloody, collapsing scream as it reverted to a point before it ever existed.

The monster thrashed, a large chunk of it now missing in a splash of blood.

You went for a second grab- but too many hands moved at once.

One caught your hair.

You jerked back with a sharp cry, but another grabbed your jaw. Then another. And another. And another. Palms smothered your mouth, your cheeks, your eyes- cold, damp, trembling- and suddenly you couldn’t breathe.

“Oi!” Naoya’s voice cut through the chaos, his body running forward to reach you. “Damnit, Obinata, move!”

You tried. But you froze.

Not from fear… but because you recognized this.

Hands on your face. Hands over your eyes. The same image from your dreams. The same feeling. The same angle. The same suffocating grasp.

And beneath the panic, memory cracked open.

Your grandmother is standing behind you in the dark. That awful, echoing voice. That warning:

“You have to remember.”

The monster’s grip tightened and the world tilted. The screaming children’s voices slowed, then warped, then stretched into inhuman echoes- like the sound was being played backward through water. Naoya’s shout became distant and the house fell away, the pressure on your face running cold.

Darkness enveloped your vision until it was all you could see. Your feet were on the solid floor, but not in the house. Just a dim, endless space… and the suffocating sense that something old had finally caught up to you.

You fall into it, weightless, suspended. Time itself seems thick, viscous, smelling faintly of iron and dust. A low hum vibrates through the darkness. Shapes shift, moving around you as if responding to your presence. You are nowhere, yet everywhere.

From the dim, a figure emerges: your grandmother, elderly, composed, radiating a serene authority. Her eyes meet yours, calm but weighted with love and patience. She steps forward, and your surroundings seemed to bend toward her, its power drawn to you, through her acknowledgment.

“It’s your turn.” she spoke, and the sound of her voice was enough to bring tears to your eyes. Her voice was soft, warm, and steady, echoing faintly around you like a warm hug. “The House answers to you now. It waits within your blood, your body, your mind. Every soul that came before you listens. Every hand, every voice- we’re bound to your will, through time.”

You tremble, the sight of someone you loved so close to you- yet you know she is not the same as when you last saw her. Was it possible for someone to be so gorgeous in death? “I… I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“You will,” she says, reaching out, and you feel the pulse of something immense, old, and dangerous. A current of energy flows through you, as if the walls themselves are breathing, alive with the whispers of your ancestors. “Pendulum Negative is yours.. but the other. It sleeps, waiting. One day, if you master yourself, you will carry both. Not now. Not yet. But the seed is planted, and the temple has claimed you.”

Ichiro’s ability… Pendulum Positive. It granted the ability opposite to your own- the power to isolate the world around you, and warp yourself forward to any time. 

A warmth coursed through you- not heat, but a presence.. comforting and heavy all at once. You feel hands pressed against the edges of your consciousness, guiding, steadying, acknowledging your place as the heir.

Then the sensation shifted, your mind reeled forward as something pulled you from your mind. The dream dissolved around you and the rush of power retracted from your fingertips. Your eyes snapped open and with a gasp, you woke up. 

Your body was still caught in the monster’s grasp. Its hands clutching your hair, your face, and your shoulders. It was sudden, but the feeling from before surged violently through your arms- and with a crack in the sky, it was as if time broke around you.

The hands on your body begin to twist unnaturally, letting go of your skin and your clothes. Flesh stretched as bones cracked backward, faces flickering between ages- child, adult, decayed, unformed. Limbs exploded mid-motion, screams fractured and layered atop each other, echoing through the rubble like the world itself was tearing apart. The mass shuddered in horrifying waves as its existence was being ripped in opposite directions. Hands tried to clutch at anything, but vanished before they met you. 

Konda’s face dissolves in slow, nightmarish reversal, screams escaping as the curse folded into itself. The body popped, a large wave of blood falling over you and Naoya.

Silence followed after. Only the smell of iron, dust, and wet decay lingered

Naoya stumbled back, eyes wide and mouth open as he wiped carelessly at his face. To no avail, the red would not cease as it continued to pour down his face from his hairline. “...Holy shit. That—” He cleared his throat, but no words came after it. 

You shook, eyes threatening to close as a wave of nausea and exhaustion rolled over you. You stumbled forward, feeling as your body collided with something solid. Naoya stood infront of you now, brown eyes shaking slightly at your depleting figure. 

With shaky vision you glanced around yourself, gut churning as you knew that Hinako had gotten away. 

“...Hey, the fucks wrong with you?” His voice was blocked by a wave of white noise, your vision going in and out as the pain in your arm suddenly flared to life. You had forgotten about the hole in your shoulder, but as the adrenaline left your body, you knew this was going to be a bitch to deal with.

You parted your lips to answer, but nothing came out. Your throat locked, lungs shuddering, and the world tilted. Of all moments to collapse, it figured your body would choose now.

Blinking awake, you found yourself laying down in the back of a car. The black interior looked familiar, and with a sluggish rise of your head, you confirmed your suspicions as Izuza sat behind the wheel. 

You had blacked out after the events of your battle, and now it was morning. You were likely returning to Jujutsu Tech now, with nothing but confirmation of the Jujutsu Council’s case file. Hinako, a little girl, was a curse user responsible for the death of many missing children. You didn’t kill her and now… she was roaming free. 

Naoya now sat in the front with Izuza, a look of irritation on his face as he held a map in his hands. His eyes flickered back to yours, and a look of acknowledgement washed over his face. “You’re up.”

“...Yeah.” You swallowed, voice rough. “I will never be touching a doll again. Fuuuuuuck Barbie.” That made him snort, and the sound brought a smile to your face. “Sorry. Can you-” you coughed into your palm, throat sandpaper-dry, “Can you tell me what I missed?”

Konda’s face flashed in your mind, and your heart dropped. Ms. Yukimura, Konda, the truth. If Naoya had spoken to her alone…

Your suspicions were confirmed as Naoya turned his head fully to look back at you from the front seat, a red hand print evident on the right side of his face. 

She had slapped him.

“It went how you think it did,” he said flatly.

Your horror must’ve been obvious, because he raised a brow at you. You’d imagined the worst. 

Naoya wasn’t exactly known for patience or tact, and if a woman slapped him, well… you weren’t convinced he wouldn’t retaliate.

“She’s a grieving mother,” he added, cutting off the spiral forming in your mind. His tone wasn’t irritated, just matter-of-fact. “I let her have her moment.”

“Oh.” You blinked, caught off guard. You’d honestly expected to hear worse.

“I told you- I didn’t have a mother. I tried to sympathize.”

Izuza snorted. “Key word being tried.”

Naoya ignored her, eyes back on you. “I just thought… if I imagined losing one, maybe I’d understand. So I did. Besides, you were in no condition to deal with it.”

His gaze flicked to your arm. Your shoulder was bandaged messily. Too much gauze with… what looked to be packaging tape holding it together at weird angles.

“I did what I could,” Naoya added with a huff. “I’m not a fucking doctor, so if it gets infected or falls off or something, that’s not on me.”

Despite everything, a small smile tugged at your lips. “I wasn’t planning on blaming you, but thanks for the idea.”

He scoffed and turned back to the map, pretending that was the end of it.

But you saw it. The truth in the cracks of his voice.

He tried. In his own, deeply flawed, Naoya-specific way… he actually tried.

Ms. Yukimura stood in the living room, surrounded by picture frames laid face-down on the hardwood floor. The walls were bare now. Every nail that once held a memory sat exposed and useless, like an open wound on off-white paint.

On the coffee table sat the last frame she hadn’t touched yet. She stared at it for a long time.

Her fingers trembled as she opened the back, slipping out the photograph of Konda’s gap-toothed smile, her little hand clutching hers at a summer festival. Yukimura’s breath caught, throat constricting. She folded the photo carefully, as if roughness might hurt the child in it, and set it with the others in a neat stack. A stack she could not bear to throw away, and yet could not leave in plain sight.

She slid the empty frame back together. In its place was a photo of herself taken years ago, when she still looked young- when she still believed the future was something you built, not something that collapsed on top of you. Her smiling face stared out beneath glass, alone now.

Like every other frame in the house.

She moved through the rooms slowly, checking each wall again. No Konda on the bookshelf. No Konda beside her bed. No Konda by the door, where she once waited with bright shoes and a bright voice and a bright life.

Her husband’s absence sat in the house the same way he always had when he was still here- selfish, echoing, hollow. Only now she didn’t feel anger. Not even resentment.

Just distance. As though that life belonged to another person entirely.

She stopped at Konda’s door.

It was still half-open, just as her daughter used to leave it at night “so dreams don’t get stuck,” she’d say. Yukimura’s hand rose to close it, hesitated, then fell.

She couldn’t close it.

Not tonight.

She returned to the living room and sat at the table. Two teacups were set out- habit, maybe. Or denial. Steam curled from only one. The other sat empty, untouched, waiting for someone who would never knock on the door again.

She stared at the single cup for a long time.

Finally, she reached into her coat pocket and placed a small hair ribbon beside it- yellow, frayed at the ends, still smelling faintly of cherry blossom shampoo. Her hand lingered there, fingertips brushing the fabric like it might respond.

Yukimura exhaled slowly, eyes drifting to the bare walls, the empty frames, the silent hallway where Konda would never run again.

“Okay,” she whispered to no one.

She rose, moving with a calm that only comes when there is nothing left to fear. The lights remained off behind her as she stepped into the darker part of the house, deeper and deeper, until her figure vanished from view.

The tea cooled and the ribbon sat still.

The next morning, the neighborhood woke to sunshine and birdsong- but Ms. Yukimura’s house remained dark, its lights never once flickering on.