Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Humans love giving meaningless things meaning. A penny off the street turns into a reminder of a recently departed grandma. The smell of lavender and citrus harkens back to simpler days coiled in the arms of a lover. A deformed ice pop pulls the mind back to holding hands with a dear friend. Humans are sentimental creatures, and the objects they  hold are no exception. This is the curse of living and connecting to others. It is, logically, a foolish endeavor but one that soothes the soul. Though, the same sentimentality might not be so foolish when the meaningless object is literally imprisoning the centerpoint for such complex feelings.

Kugustu Sone held a small stone cube between her hands. Its surface was cool, unyielding, and heavy with significance. She observed it carefully, watching as a constellation of piercing blue eyes opened and scoured every direction with their gaze. Kugutsu has always been attuned to other people’s cursed energy, more than probably anyone else in the Jujutsu World. It was because of this, she theorized, that she could feel a familiar pulse coming from the box. Satoru Gojo in the flesh- or rather in the box. 

Frowning, she placed it on the table, softly, carefully, preciously. She was in her home now, away from whatever atrocities were happening in Shibuya. She should have stayed and fought. She wouldn’t hear the end of it from Gojo about running away to play hero or whatever. But maybe if he didn’t want that he shouldn’t have played damsel in distress. 

Her home was quaint, underground, and most importantly unknown. The perfect place to bring such… important goods.

The eyes of the box seemed to follow her movements as she bandaged her wounds. Blood dripped down her chin, a large gash on her stomach made moving a pain and that's not to mention the multiple sprains and broken bones adorning her person. 

Getting this stupid thing had not been easy, and it had been even harder getting out with it. She wasn’t sure why she felt compelled to nab it in the first place. Maybe it was some kind of responsibility to the man, the honored one, the strongest, her old friend, her colleague. Maybe it was a responsibility to the world at large. She was well aware of the gaping hole the man would leave behind. She was strong, stronger than most, but she was not Gojo. No one was. Her abilities could never replace his god-like stature. 

The eyes were mocking her. 

His cursed energy was duller than usual, hard to pick out amongst whatever fortifications this box provided- she doubts that anyone else would have even been able to tell. But of course she could. Kugustu could never forget such a unique cursed energy signature. Not his. Even if she wanted to. Many times she would have liked to.

With a heavy sigh and an even heavier body she lowered her head on the table, now eye level with the stupid thing. The cracked white mask with red designs, which covered the upper half of her face, shifted slightly with the motion, tugging against her skin as though reminding her of its presence. She ignored it. It didn’t matter right now.

"You always know how to throw me into shit I have no place in don't you, Satoru?"

The eyes stared, unblinking.

"Well, damsel in distress , the hell should I do with you?" She paused, considering something deep within herself for a moment. 

"What can I do?" She smiled to herself, a smirk that was mostly teasing. "Throw the big chunk into the ocean? Sell to the highest bidder? What would you do if I was in that stupid box, damsel?"

There was no reply of course. She wasn’t expecting one, but the quiet was still uncomfortable. She ran a hand through her hair, forcefully raking it through the dried bits and viscera that had made their home on her scalp.

"Who am I kidding? I didn’t go through all that just to toss you. I really hope you can’t hear me in there. You idiot."

The eyes stared back at her. Her hand hovered over the box, fingers brushing against its smooth edges. It thrummed faintly against her skin, as if recognizing her touch. The sensation was unsettlingly familiar- a push and pull of cursed energy that reminded her of sparring matches, battlefields, and fleeting moments of uneasy camaraderie. Yelling matches, casual movie nights, having each other’s back. It was an echo of the past.

"Alright, box. You and Me. Cursed Energy. Let’s conjure up some master plan here, damsel."

She raised a hand, softly laying on top of the box that held her… Acquaintance? Friend? Coworker? Ally? 

The eyes finally closed. She didn’t know the first thing about this box. It was obviously some kind of prison. It was obviously holding Gojo. It was obvious she didn’t have the key or magic word or whatever needed to open it. What she did have is her sparse cursed energy reserves and, most importantly, her cursed technique. If she could sense his energy through this stupid box, maybe she could feed him enough to break himself out. Maybe she could start work on dismantling the energy that surrounded him.

She sighed, idly tracing patterns onto the box’s surface, matching the familiar patterns of her palms. Her anchor for her cursed technique. She would need to focus all her energy and thensome into this thing. That might give her at least somewhere to start. Then she can dismantle it or Gojo can do that from the inside or something. 

"Not so useless now huh. Who would’ve guessed." 

Her fingers hesitated before pressing against the surface. Ignoring the flaring pain of her body, ignoring the paranoid voice warning of the danger, ignoring the possibility of swimming through such murky energy for the possibility of nothing in return, she poured all of her years of mastery and control of her technique into this stupid box. This wasn’t some half-formed idea anymore- it was a choice. A gamble. She wasn’t a fan of gambling, she liked predictable outcomes. And Gojo, of course,  would probably laugh if he knew she was risking everything for him. Even if she didn’t like him all that much. 

"If I get you out, you’ll owe me big time, damsel."

As her cursed energy seeped into the cube, her thoughts drifted. To the pain of her past, the joys of her work, to responsibility, and hard choices. Back to when Gojo was just a boy with too much power, and she... was just another cog in the Jujutsu machine. Her mind drifted to the Jujutsu World and the good and bad decisions that led her here, hoping and dreaming on the crapshoot that was her ability to get one Satoru Gojo- strongest sorcerer of all time- out of a tiny, stupid, incredibly powerful box. 

Chapter Text

The first time Kugutsu Sone was introduced to Jujutsu Society, she was clutching her cousin Utahime’s hand for dear life. The 14 year old had recently shown an aptitude for the art, and while her parents didn’t really know what to do with the strange girl crying about monsters in the dark, her cousin’s family was happy to help her adjust. 

Adjusting, as it turned out, meant trying to get into this secret magic school- or at least that’s how Kugutsu thought of it. Magic school. It sounded whimsical, something out of a storybook, but the chill in the air and the weight pressing against her chest told her otherwise. There was nothing whimsical about it. The moment they stepped onto the school grounds, Kugutsu felt it- layers upon layers of cursed energy woven into the walls. It was overwhelming, like stepping into a hurricane. Utahime, for her part, was walking with a practiced ease which meant that she had either gotten used to the strange and overwhelming sensation around her or she wasn’t experiencing it in the same way.

"You’re squeezing too hard," Utahime muttered, shaking Kugutsu’s hand slightly to loosen her grip. "Relax. You’ll be fine."

Kugutsu took that as an opportunity to let go of her hand altogether. She really wasn’t one for physical contact anyway. Touching others felt invasive. Even if she tried to suppress it, she couldn’t help but shift her own energy in accordance with another’s. She didn’t have the control or the understanding of her technique to manage that kind of thing without thinking yet. It was exhausting.

The walkways of Jujutsu High were surprisingly vacant for the large structures. Maybe it was a holiday or something? Kugutsu frowned, unsure if the eerie emptiness was comforting or unsettling.

"Where is everyone?" she asked, her voice quieter than intended.

"Classes," Utahime replied, "You’re not exactly getting a tour in the middle of peak hours. Though, even when people are walking around there aren’t many of us."

A voice cut across the courtyard, overwhelming their hushed conversation. "Yoooo! Utahime."

A duo came strolling by, both tall. One, the dark haired boy, smiled and raised a hand in greeting. The other, the loud silver haired boy, walked with a sort of lackadaisical nature that made Kugutsu squirm. Something about how relaxed he was being unnerved her. Wasn’t this a school? Shouldn’t there be a level of respect here? Kugutsu’s frown deepened. 

The silver-haired boy bounded up to them, his grin wide and brash. His sunglasses- completely unnecessary on this overcast day- reflected back the stone pathways and sky. "What’s this? Brought a stray to the school?"

Utahime scowled, already gearing up for a retort. "She’s my cousin, Gojo. And unlike you, she knows how to behave."

"Cousin, huh?" Gojo leaned down, peering at Kugutsu as if she were a particularly interesting bug under a microscope. "She doesn’t look like much. Hey, kid, you as useless as your cousin?" He tapped his sunglasses with a dramatic pause. "Cause you wont make it far if that's the case."

"That’s enough, Gojo," Utahime snapped, stepping protectively in front of Kugutsu. "She doesn’t need your commentary."

"Satoru, it’s not nice to pick on the weak." The dark-haired boy finally approached, his expression softer, more measured. "Don’t mind him," he said, offering Kugutsu a small smile. "I’m Suguru Geto, first year. You want to be a sorcerer?"

Kugutsu looked between the three older kids. She isn’t sure if she wants to be a sorcerer. She barely knew what that meant other than controlling her technique and helping people. It would probably be dangerous, but what wasn’t? Still, when her parents last spoke to her, what they thought they should be was clear. Become a jujutsu sorcerer, follow the rules, send money back home. Represent the family well.

Kugutsu bowed deeply. "Yes, I would. Its- its my only path forward."

In her bowed position she could not see the other’s faces, instead setting her eyes on the stone beneath her feet. Her hands softly placed at her sides, her hair dangling past her ears in two long braids. Above her she heard a voice, she now recognized as Gojo snort, trying to quell laughter.

"Oh? Bowing…" Geto’s voice resounded softly.

Without another word, Utahime grabbed her shoulder and roughly pulled her up and away from the two boys. Kugutsu couldn’t help but look back at them. After a brief look at each other, the duo smiled wordless banter filling the space between her and them. It was kind of sweet despite Kugutsu’s less than pleasant interaction.  They were obviously comfortable with each other, in a way that she had never really experienced before. As if the only people who mattered in the entire universe were each other.

"Completely insufferable, both of them" Utahime sighed in an act of resignation. "I’m sorry that was your first experience here."

"It’s fine." Kugutsu took the opportunity to unfurl herself from her cousin. "Useless?"

Utahime’s face scrunched up in frustration. "Stupid Gojo- listen, I’m older and more powerful than you, so don’t go around thinking I’m useless you hear? I mean it I-"

"I  didn’t think that- I don’t think that."

"Oh? Then what do you mean?"

"Why did they call you that?"

"Well, Gojo is just a once in a generation talent. He and Geto are basically this era’s gods of Jujutsu. Geto is nice enough and hasn’t let it get to his head but Gojo… not so much. To him, anyone who isn’t strong the way he is isn’t worth his time."

Kugutsu humed in understanding. Why would a god care about the ants even humans don’t give a second thought. What are ants compared to skyscrapers? Utahime led her further and further into this new school without another word. The meeting with the principal was nice, uneventful. Basic questions about her understanding of herself and her place in the world. Surprisingly it was a lot more comfortable than her interactions with the two boys. The hierarchy here between her and these ancient higherups was clear. Simple. It was easy to see what was wanted of her and even easier to fill that space. Gojo and Geto were different, she didn’t know what they wanted from her. She would much prefer to be under the watchful sedentary eyes of those currently questioning her. Much more comfortable.

The second time she was presented to the world of Jujutsu was a few months later. Summer had passed and while she had done her best to prepare, she was sure she wasn’t ready for her first year as a sorcerer. Utahime wasn’t around as much but she gave her her phone number so that was nice. They weren’t incredibly close, but Utahime was kind and Kugutsu was attentive. For family, that was enough. 

She adjusted her uniform, a mix of anxiety and perfectionism settling under her skin. She was told to arrive in her classroom at 7:00 and had arrived at 6:45. Early is always better than late. Because of this, she sat alone in a classroom. There weren’t many seats, she noted. For a school this was truly quite strange. She would expect the place to be crawling with weird magical people doing weird magical things and learning to kill weird magical curses. She stared at her palms, intricate fine lines danced from the center to the edges of her fingers and back. It was a strange runic web, she didn’t remember a time where she didn’t have this ink on her hands. 

The door opened softly, right at 7:00. A boy, his blond hair in an unfortunately swept hairstyle, strolled in. Making eye contact with Kugutsu he paused, checking his watch briefly.

"You’re early?"

"...Yes?"

The boy nodded and found a seat, leaving only one left in the entire classroom. The boy seemed grounded. She could work with that.

A few minutes later a large imposing man walked into the room. His brown hair was short, with small design lines trailing up its sides.

"We’re missing someone."

The blond-haired boy across the room shifted slightly in his seat but didn’t say anything. 

The man’s sharp gaze swept over the room, scanning each of the seats before settling on the empty one. His brow furrowed. "Did anyone see where he went?" His voice was deep, yet there was an underlying calmness to it.

“I haven’t seen him,” the blond boy finally spoke, breaking the silence. His voice was steady but casual. “Maybe he slept in.”

 Kugutsu shook her head, silently answering the man’s question.

The large man nodded but didn’t seem entirely convinced. "I am Yaga-sensei. I teach the first and second years at this school. Introduce yourselves."

"Kento Nanami, Sir." He stood up giving a curt nod.

"Kugutsu Sone. Pleasure to meet you all." Kugutsu bowed.

The door swung open again, this time with a loud, carefree thud. A young man, a bit disheveled with a messy mop of brown hair, breezed into the room like he had all the time in the world. It didn’t last long until his eyes met Yaga’s and he looked like he wanted to run away there and then. 

"I am so sorry I’m late sir!"

The newest addition to the class scurried over to a chair, a nervous wreck but the kind that was understandable given the circumstances. Yaga-sensei pinched the bridge of his nose, an exasperated noise coming from deep in his throat.

"Alright, welcome to your first year. Let’s get to work."

And as unceremoniously as it began, this was the beginning of her life as a sorcerer. A foolish path, but it was hers to walk. 

Chapter Text

The next few weeks were full of pushing themselves to the brink. Any kind of training imaginable no matter how grueling or vomit-inducing they did it. Kugutsu was not used to such a demanding regimen on her body, she woke up sore just about every day, but she could see the improvements. She wasn’t a slouch before coming to this school either, but there was a difference between the occasional workout and training for what had been described to her as a never ending war.

There had been some sparring matches between the three first years as well. Kugutsu was not stronger than her classmates in any way shape or form, but she was very good at dodging. Her fights with Haibara would consist of her juking him until he either gave up or Yaga-sensei called off the match. Haibara was a good fighter, but his reluctance to actually hurt her combined with her dodging prowess didn’t make it any easier for him. Nanami was different, he had no qualms for hurting her in a controlled environment which Kugutsu was also grateful for. She didn’t want to be coddled. Nanami’s fights with her ended similarly to Haibara’s but he did always manage to get a few good hits in. Yaga-sensei kept trying to tell her to fight back and she was trying to, it was just hard to know when to strike. And she didn’t like touching others. Or being touched.

Nanami, Kugutsu, and Haibara sat sprawled across a grassy clearing, their chests collectively heaving up and down with exhaustion. Yaga-sensei stood above them with a grin curled on his features. 

"Good work today. This afternoon we’ll be working with the second years so rest up for now." The collective groans of acknowledgement made him chuckle. He tossed them all their waters and walked away without another word.

Nanami was the first to stand up, offering Haibara a hand to stand. When the same was offered to Kugutsu she hesitated.

"Thanks, but I’m good Nanami."

Nanami frowned but said nothing. Haibara wasn’t one to let things go though.

"Sone, are you alright?"

"Yes- well exhausted but otherwise fine. Why?"

"You just seem a little well- jumpy?"

"...Jumpy?"

"What he means to say-" Nanami interrupted, "-is that you don't let anyone touch you and that's strange. When we spar all you do is dodge and whenever someone does touch you the face you make is worrisome. Are you alright?"

A dumb feeling settled onto Kugutsu’s shoulders like heavy stones. She didn’t really think about how her aversion would be perceived. Back home everyone just accepted she didn't want to touch or be touched. She was mostly just left to her own devices. The strange child, but the self sufficient one. The child that was quiet and did as she was told. It didn’t come up a lot. She truly hadn’t considered it. 

Sensing her pause, Haibara spoke quickly. "But if you don't want to share or don’t feel comfortable, that's fine, truly! Just wanted to check in but if you- we could talk about something else or ignore it all together."

Nanami and Kugutsu shared a glance. Kugutsu could not help the laugh that erupted from her throat at the stern Nanami and the flushed Haibara. She felt lighter with these two. It was nice.

"Sorry, sorry. I just didn’t even realize what it might look like to you guys. It's part of my cursed technique."

Kugutsu fell silent for a moment, the laughter lingering in her chest. The relief she felt from their concern wasn’t something she often experienced. She did not need to be coddled, but the fact that they worried about her wellbeing despite the little time she had known them was nice.

Nanami glanced at her, his expression unreadable but softer than it had been before. Haibara, on the other hand, seemed both relieved and unsure, as if he didn’t know whether to push the topic further or just let it go. It was strange, how these two, so different in their personalities, both understood something she had barely admitted to herself.

"So…" Haibara trailed off. "Does this mean we get a show and tell? I mean, if you’re comfortable with it?"

"I can if you want? Though I would need one of you to be fine with me poking at you if that's okay? It’s a little invasive."

Haibara’s expression lit up instantly, his curiosity piqued by the prospect. 

"You aren’t going to kill us, right? It should be fine." He chuckled, though it was clear he wasn’t entirely sure what to expect.

Nanami, on the other hand, spoke resolutely, his voice firm and calm. 

"It’s fine. Just don’t do anything that will leave me unable to fight."

With a second of hesitation Kugutsu reached out a hand and softly placed it on Nanami’s shoulder. She concentrated deeply, allowing her energy to flow from her fingertips, tracing the outline of Nanami’s cursed energy. She could feel the familiar rush of intensity- his energy was strong, controlled, but there were places where it could be improved, where the flow could be smoother. She identified the ridges, the flaws, the weak points. It was almost like reading a map of his internal energy system, pinpointing areas that could be reinforced or enhanced. 

Kugutsu’s brow furrowed slightly as she focused on his energy, weaving her own cursed energy through it. It was delicate work, a precise dance of blending their energies together. She needed to mold her energy into something his would accept, and then manipulate his cursed energy with hers. For a few moments nothing happened, but then Nanami was covered in a bright sheen of his own cursed energy, now enhanced with Kugutsu’s. Nanami’s eyes shot wide, flexing his fingers then his wrists and arms. His whole body felt like it was on fire, not in a painful way but a way that made him acutely aware of his energy, his potential. He felt like he was capable of toppling mountains if he so chose.

His mouth hung open in surprise "This is- wow. I feel like I could do anything right now. What are you doing?"

"Just enhancing what's already there. My cursed technique lets me manipulate other people’s cursed energy. I have to make contact with it and the more familiar I am with the source of the energy the better I can manipulate it." Kugutsu let go of Nanami’s shoulder and like turning off a light, the shimmering high he was experiencing left him. Nanami blinked, the feeling of intensity fading, but not without leaving a lasting imprint. His muscles, though still sore from training, felt more fluid, his cursed energy now more responsive.

Haibara, who had been watching with wide eyes, raised his hand eagerly, as if he was a child in a classroom. "I want to try too! Come on, Kugutsu, enhance me!"

Kugutsu turned to Haibara, chuckling softly at his enthusiastic outburst. "You sure? It’s not all fun and games. You might feel… overwhelmed by the energy at first."

Haibara grinned mischievously, and nodded.

Just like the first time, Haibara’s body was covered in a sheen of cursed energy. He felt the high Kugutsu provided. 

"It’s useful, but the fact I have to touch you is… difficult in a fight."

Nanami hummed in through. As Kugutsu and Nanami glanced at Haibara they couldn’t help but laugh. He was starstruck. On cloud nine. Mouth agape. His expression comical in its enthusiasm.

"That's enough of that." Kugutsu removed her hand from the boy. " We have to fight some second years later and I need all the energy I can muster. While you might feel great I’m still sore as hell."

"Aw man." Haibara frowned.

Kugutsu chuckled at Haibara's disappointment as she stepped back, wiping her hand on her training gear. Nanami shot him an amused look, clearly more grounded than his excitable friend.

"You're not the only one who’s sore," Nanami said, stretching his arms out. "But it seems like your enthusiasm’s gotten the better of you, Haibara."

Haibara nodded fervently, still grinning as he stretched his limbs. "I’m ready to fight now! This is the best I’ve felt in ages!"

Kugutsu chuckled to herself. "I am glad to be helpful then." That's a good word. Helpful. "But I really can’t do it all the time. It’s not a get out of jail free card, it's a lot of work. It's precise."

Nanami gave a thoughtful hum, clearly intrigued. "And it’s not just about making them stronger, is it? It’s about controlling their cursed energy."

"Exactly," Kugutsu replied, her voice soft with concentration. "I can improve cursed energy, but only if I understand the source. The more familiar I am to someone’s cursed energy, the easier it is to manipulate. But that also means I need to be careful. I don’t want to destabilize someone’s flow of energy in a fight."

Haibara turned to her, his grin unwavering. "So what you're saying is... if we train together more, you could get even better at this?"

Kugutsu thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, but don’t get any ideas about me doing this for you all the time.”

The trio stood, a budding sense of camaraderie between them and made their way to glorious glorious food. Kugutsu was quiet between them. It was nice to feel useful. She wasn’t entirely sure of her capabilities in an actual fight, but it was nice. These two were nice. Jujutsu High was supposed to be a place to grow so maybe just maybe, she could become useful not just to her classmates but to the fight against curses and Jujutsu Society as a whole. 

"Yaga, do we really need to come help these losers train?" Gojo’s voice rang out, dripping with his usual arrogance as he slouched casually against the wooden gate of the training ground. He lowered his opaque sunglasses, giving off a careless vibe as he turned toward Yaga, who stood impatiently in front of him with his arms crossed. Geto and another woman who Kugutsu would later learn was named Shoko Ieri stood aside, watching on with similar exasperation. 

"I don’t recall asking for your opinion, Gojo," Yaga said dryly, his face an unreadable mask. "Because of… recent events, I have to teach first and second years. This is the result. Deal with it."

The first years looked at each other concerned. It was clear that none of the three wanted to be a part of whatever was going on between their teacher and the infamous Satoru Gojo. 

"Yaga-sensei, we can just not if it's more of a hassle," Nanami spoke, tone calm and calculated.

"See? Even the first years think it's a waste of time."

"That's not what he said," Kugutsu whispered, unheard and unnoticed.

"Satoru Gojo I swear, for once listen to me and get to work."

Gojo looked between his teacher, his friends and the fresh meat in front of him. "Fine, don’t blame me when nothing good comes of it." 

Yaga pinched the bridge of his nose, but continued. "The goal of the day is sparring. No cursed techniques. Just you, your partner and whoever submits first."

A grin spread across the two second year boys. Immediately engaging in some friendly banter. Kugutsu could not make out much, or rather she was trying to block their voices as much as possible so that she could pay attention to her teacher’s words. What she could make out was something about who was winning, a bet and a punishment? Whatever, boys will do what boys do.

Yaga continued "Gojo spars with Nanami, Geto with Haibara. Shoko, you are with me."

Kugutsu frowned looking at Yaga expectantly. She wasn’t sure exactly why she was being left out. She had proven herself in training. She followed the rules, performed whatever was asked of her to the best of her ability. She had not strayed or caused problems or anything of the like. She was not particularly strong, and Yaga had scolded her for being overly defensive in the past, but that didn’t mean she shouldn’t spar at all.

An ugly laugh came from Gojo’s throat, sharp and grating "Of course Utahime’s cousin isn’t even gonna spar. Weakness probably runs in the family."

Kugutsu grit her teeth, not looking away from Yaga. Her jaw clenched.

"Gojo enough of that. Go off with your sparring partners."

The group dispersed. Haibara shot her a sympathetic look as he walked off with Geto, while Nanami, ever stoic, whispered under his breath as he passed, "We’ll spar later." His tone was neutral, but the quiet reassurance lingered.

Kugutsu was fuming, but kept a restrained stoic look on her face, staring Yaga down. Shoko stood languidly between us, expression neutral but gaze nervous. 

"Sir…" Kugutsu tried and failed to keep her tone neutral, balling her hands into fists at her sides, "I don’t see why I should be kept from training. I haven’t done anything wrong have I? I mean-"

Yaga raised a hand, cutting her off mid-sentence. The simple gesture carried an authority that immediately quieted her rising tone.

"What is your cursed technique?"

"Manipulating others’ cursed energy, sir."

"What did you tell me was required to accomplish such a thing?"

"... Physical touch and familiarity," she said, her tone shifting from anger to confusion. 

"Exactly. I want you to watch both fights at the same time. Whoever is the winner first, that's your next opponent. Let me know what you see alright?"

Kugutsu paused, unsure of how to reply. She didn’t exactly see the point in it. It would be better if she was watching two people fight and then got to team up with one of them. Otherwise what use was her cursed technique. Despite the doubt creeping up her thoughts she nodded at her teacher. If that's what he wanted, that's what she would do.

Yaga turned towards the fighting duos, raising his voice. "Whoever finishes their fight first gets to fight Kugutsu. Raise a hand when that happens alright?" 

A chorus of affirmations and the fights were on their way. Yaga and Shoko’s discussions of her reversed curse technique faded into the background becoming less like words and more like static. Tracking both fights simultaneously was harder than she’d expected. The fighters moved quickly, their cursed energy flaring and shifting with each exchange of blows. To Kugutsu, it felt more like watching an intricate light show than a physical fight. Her attunement to cursed energy- something she had always taken for granted- allowed her to see the ebb and flow of power in a way others might miss.

Gojo and Nanami’s spar was a clash of speed and precision, but it was clear to Kugutsu that Gojo was holding back. His movements were deliberately measured, his strikes just sharp enough to challenge Nanami without overwhelming him. Surprisingly, however he didn’t seem to be mocking his opponent, though his typical arrogance still shone through in the way he toyed with Nanami’s attempts to counter. Whether it was a rare moment of conscientiousness or simply a game to Gojo, she couldn’t tell. Either way, it made for an intense match. 

Geto and Haibara’s fight, on the other hand, was blatantly one-sided. Geto’s attacks were relentless, each one brimming with power and intent. Haibara was holding his ground, but just barely. His cursed energy flared wildly as he scrambled to keep up, his movements less refined than Geto’s but full of determination. One thing Kugutsu realized was exactly how Geto used his cursed energy in comparison with Haibara. Haibara would concentrate all his energy into a single point (say his fist) before striking. Geto on the other hand would surround his entire body in cursed energy and at the last second concentrate it in an area. It made Geto hard to predict. Interesting.

As Kugutsu tried to track both battles, her frustration began to ebb. Despite herself, she found the process absorbing. Watching the subtle shifts in cursed energy, the way each fighter used their abilities in harmony with their physical techniques. It made her want to learn more about their specific cursed energy signals.

Nanami’s cursed energy spiked sharply as he launched into a sudden offensive against Gojo, disrupting the flow of their fight. Kugutsu’s focus snapped to the burst of energy, and for a moment, she thought Nanami might have gained the upper hand. But Gojo, ever one step ahead, sidestepped effortlessly, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Haibara let out a fierce cry as he unleashed a desperate counterattack against Geto. His energy surged, a raw and untamed force, but Geto met it head-on, his expression calm and unyielding. The fight ended moments later with a decisive strike from Geto, who raised his hand to signal his victory. His lips were curled into a smile as he glanced at Gojo, then went to lift his fallen underclassmen.

"Kugutsu," Yaga’s voice cut through her thoughts, snapping her back to attention. "Geto’s waiting."

She nodded and stepped towards Geto ready to do her best. She approached Haibara first, commending him for his efforts. He grinned back up at her with a thumbs up.

"Good luck, Sone! Avenge me!"

She nodded, now staring down her new opponent.

"Do you want a second to grab a water after your fight, Geto?"

The tall boy chuckled good humoredly "I’m good but is that really what you want your opponent to be getting? Rest?" His head tilted slightly. It reminded Kugutsu of a cat, or perhaps even a snake.

Kugutsu bowed, the same way she had when they first met. "Thank you for sparring with me." She was happy to be sparring at all, and above that she was grateful she wasn’t fighting Gojo. "Let's have a good fight."

She raised her body, took a deep breath and lowered herself into a defensive fighting stance. Geto took a second, observing her form carefully before lowering into his own stance.

"Let’s see what you got."

The fight began. Kugutsu was light on her feet, moving fluidly with each of Geto’s attempts to land a blow. Her body weaved in and out of his reach as he swung and punched, the sharp swish of his strikes cutting through the air just inches from her. Kugutsu’s tactic was simple- dodge, anticipate, and wait for the right moment. She had spent the earlier fights studying Geto’s movements, noting the subtle shifts in his stance, the way his cursed energy swelled and contracted just before an attack. It was like following the rhythm of a song- predictable enough to keep her one step ahead, but complex enough to demand her full focus. The margin she was dodging by was narrow, the wind of his strikes rustled past her skin, but still she didn’t get hit. 

That's not to say that she was even close to hitting him back, it was taking everything in her power to not get clobbered by Geto’s impressive advances. Dodging alone wasn’t enough to turn the tide. She hadn’t landed a single blow, and she could feel her stamina beginning to wane. Every movement required intense concentration, her cursed energy working overtime to read Geto’s flow and keep her a step ahead.

Geto, on the other hand, looked like he was enjoying himself. A grin spread across his face with every narrowly missed strike, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.

"You’re  faster than I thought." His elbow mere inches away from catching her jaw before she spun out of the way. Sweat dripped down her forehead. "This isn’t a technique is it?"

She shook her head. Throwing her body out of the way of a sharp kick to her side. This was the longest fight of her life. A sharp breath. A duck under an arm. Cursed energy. Side step a jab. Cursed Energy. Sharp breath. Sharp Breath. Sharp Breath. 

He sent a punch straight for her nose, she moved to dodge but he quickly redirected his momentum to a kick to her side sending her sprawling across the clearing. Despite the pain in her side she quietly noted that the other fights were done. The distraction did her no favors. She rolled out of the way of another strike landing back on her feat.

"Alright, let's take it up a notch" Geto lowered himself into another fighting stance, his eyes narrowed. 

Kugutsu’s breath hitched as she steadied herself, her feet sliding into position as she kept her gaze locked on Geto. The throbbing in her side from the kick reminded her how precarious her situation was. Her body ached, her legs felt like lead, and her chest burned with every breath. Yet, she refused to back down.

Geto’s grin shifted slightly, turning from amusement to something sharper, more focused. He adjusted his stance, his weight balanced perfectly as his eyes seemed to bore into her. Geto moved like a blur, closing the distance between them in an instant. His strikes came faster now, more precise, each blow carrying more weight behind it. Kugutsu barely had time to react, her body twisting and contorting as she dodged his attacks by the slimmest of margins.

It didn’t take long for this new pace to overwhelm her. Another faint threw off her balance enough for Geto to capitalize. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist with a firm grip. His other fist inches away from her forehead.

"Gotcha," he said, his tone light but triumphant.

Kugutsu was upset about losing, but she was also trying her best to not pry into his cursed energy. To not check its ridges, to leave it alone and not instinctually, almost naturally adapt her own to fit him. It's intrusive and rude, even if the want to do so is instinctual. Even if Geto’s cursed energy was a swirling mix of his own and quite a few peculiarities hiding beneath the surface. She wanted to drown herself in his cursed energy.

Just as quickly as he grabbed her he let her go, standing a few paces back. She could feel the stares of her classmates on the back of her neck. Stepping back, she dusts herself off tucking away strands of hair from her eyes. She bowed, just as she did at the beginning with a stoic expression.

"Thank you for the fight."

"You don't have to be so formal... It feels like begging." Geto’s grin softened into something resembling confusion. He extended a hand to shake instead.

She looked at it, contemplative before cautiously shaking his hand. It was quick and simple and she didn’t particularly enjoy it. Still, it seemed like the right thing to do.

From the sidelines, Gojo’s voice pierces through the moment "Is all you can do? Dodge? A little embarrassing to be so desperate to spar but not even try and land a punch"

Geto walked back to his friend, flicking his forehead. 

"It was fine. A better fight that you’d be able to pull off." Geto’s voice was obviously teasing, but Kugutsu wasn’t fond of being thrown in the middle of their conversation.

Gojo huffed, eyes narrowed in her direction. "Please. She wouldn’t last half a second."

Before the banter could escalate, Yaga’s voice cut through the clearing. "Enough, Gojo. Geto, take your seat. Kugutsu, good work. You held your own longer than most first years could against him."

Kugutsu’s gaze flicked to Yaga briefly, searching for any sign of condescension or pity. Instead, she saw a faint nod of approval, the kind she rarely received but had always craved. She swallowed hard and gave a small nod in return before stepping back to join the others on the sidelines.

As she sat down, Shoko handed her a water bottle without a word. Kugutsu accepted it with a murmured "thanks" and drank deeply, the cool liquid soothing her parched throat.

From the corner of her eye, she caught Nanami watching her. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but he gave her the slightest nod before turning back to watch the next sparring match: Gojo vs Geto.

Sitting on the sidelines, Kugutsu couldn’t help but feel like a ghost in their shadow. Geto’s calm precision and Gojo’s arrogant dominance filled the clearing, their cursed energies so potent they seemed to shape the very air around them. She glanced down at her hands, flexing her fingers absently. What did her cursed technique mean compared to theirs? Theirs were bold, striking, like skyscrapers casting long shadows. Hers was… small, intricate. Something that required patience, finesse, and a closeness others didn’t seem to need.

Kugutsu exhaled slowly, her body aching and her pride bruised, but there was a flicker of determination in her chest. Her eyes stayed trained between the two skyscrapers of Jujutsu High as they settled into their respective fighting stance. And then the giants clashed, grins on their faces and laughter echoing across the clearing. Kugutsu couldn’t help but wonder, what was it like for these skyscrapers to watch little ants fight and try to be as tall as them?

Chapter Text

Kugutsu had put her heart and soul into her research. Sure, training was also important, but the more she understood cursed energy at its base theoretical level, the more she might be able to do something about it. She was currently sitting under the shade of a tree surrounded by tomes and scrolls all about how different people thought of cursed energy. It was all written in that stupid way old timey books are- the way that feels like they were more interested in how many words they could use per sentence rather than actually being understood.

She was not from some long running clan of amazing jujutsu sorcerers. She was from a non-sorcerer family who happened to have a cousin who had gone through this before. Nothing more, nothing less. She had a lot of catching up to do. That "catching up" she wanted was difficult when all these books made her want to remove her brain from her skull. 

Kugutsu looked up to see her classmates Haibara and Nanami laughing by the soda machine. The two had grown really close in the last few weeks Kugutsu had known them. They had that kind of natural spark that came from two people who balanced each other. Nanami’s cool head and Haibara’s childlike wonder were simply meant to click. She looked down at her studies. She wasn’t left out by her classmates by any means, but it was very obvious to see that the two's friendship was skyrocketing. She focused on their cursed energy signatures, she couldn’t do anything to them not without walking over, but just focusing and familiarizing herself with them brought her a sense of comfort. A warm feeling spread throughout her chest at the sight of them. Her classmates’ energy felt warm. Observing them helped her understand their abilities- and how to enhance them. It would prove useful when they went on their first mission. She looked at her palms, their designs almost aching with the thought. How useful could she be in a fight really?

A pair of expensive shoes suddenly entered the corner of her vision. She looked up to meet Satoru Gojo’s piercing gaze, his lips tilted into a grin. There was something in that grin that read danger. 

"Can I… help you?"

"I am so glad you asked!" Gojo grabbed her by the scruff of her jacket, roughly pulling her along. "You’re coming with me!" 

"Wait," Kugutsu protested, "what about the books and my lunch- can I at least pack?"

Her words remained unanswered as Gojo kept dragging her along. He was strong, not surprisingly so but in a way that was unmistakably Satoru Gojo. Kugutsu was grateful though, not that she would admit it, that she was not making contact with Gojo directly, just her clothes.

He led (or dragged) her to an empty classroom where Geto was already waiting. He was relaxing, casually shuffling a deck of hanafuda cards. As soon as he saw the sorry state Kugutsu was in he sighed.

"Satoru, was that really necessary?" Geto’s voice was laced with exasperation, though there was a touch of amusement hidden beneath.

"You wanted me to bring her so I did. I don’t get what you’re making a big deal out of anyway."

"I told you we should talk to her at some point, not drag her inside like a wet cat."

The two of them continued to bicker back and forth as if Kugutsu wasn’t even there. For a moment, she considered just leaving the way she came and abandoning this mess altogether. But if she did this whole situation would just transpire another day. It wouldn’t be worth her effort. She would deal with it now.

"Are you two always like this?" she asked, trying to cut through their endless banter. She crossed her arms, more out of instinct than anything else.

Geto finally turned his attention to her, his gaze steady but not unkind. "Not usually. But Satoru tends to... make situations interesting." He gave Gojo an almost affectionate, yet exasperated look. "You know how he is."

"I really dont."

The two boys stared blankly at her. Kugutsu didn’t know if they weren't used to someone talking back or if the answer genuinely caught them off guard. She was having trouble understanding just what these two upperclassmen expected of her. When things were unclear, a direct approach sometimes worked best.

"Why did you bring me here? I was studying," she said, her voice curt.

"Well, I noticed something strange during our sparring matches the other day." Gojo looked up at her past the rim of his sunglasses, his Six Eyes on full display. The implication was lost to Kugutsu.

"...Okay?" She had heard about Gojo’s strange eyes in passing but she had never really observed them closely. His eyes glowed an ethereal blue.

"Traces of your cursed energy were all over Nanami and Haibara. Then when you and Geto fought I saw it again. Your cursed energy was slowly changing to match his. I’ve never seen such a thing." 

Kugutsu’s gaze travelled towards Geto. She isn’t sure what she should really be doing in such a situation, but Gojo didn’t exactly ease her tension.

"The only thing on record for your cursed technique is cursed energy amplification- same as Utahime." Geto’s eyes were kind but his words had an accusatory glint. "Should we be worried for our  underclassmen?"

Gojo continued the onslaught "But it's not the same as Utahime. I’ve seen her cursed energy and it isn’t like yours. My Six Eyes don’t lie to me." He stepped forward. His eyes jeered at her.

An overwhelmed Kugutsu breathed quickly, trying to maintain distance between her and the encroaching boy.

"Okay, it's not technically the same as my cousin's, that's just the simplest way of describing it." She put her palms out for Gojo and Geto to see. "It’s not some big secret I just didn't have all the words for it when I signed the stupid papers. It did something similar to hers so that's what I wrote." 

Gojo watched her palms with growing interest. He went to step forward but Geto grabbed his shoulder slightly pulling him back.

"What can you do? Why shouldn’t we worry?" Geto spoke softly, a disarming smile adorning his face.

"I can enhance other people’s cursed energy but it's different. My cursed technique is that I can manipulate other people’s cursed energy, not just my own." The two upperclassmen looked at her expectantly. "So the effect on Nanami and Haibara, I showed them what I could do. I didn't know anything lingered"

"And the symbols on your palms?" Geto asked.

"They just… are like that. I don’t remember ever not having them."

"Show me." Gojo grinned.

"I’m already showing you, look." She shook her hands slightly to emphasize her point.

He groaned in exasperation. "Your technique. Do it. Amplify me or whatever."

Kugutsu looked between the two, an ant before skyscrapers.  "There's a catch... I need to touch the person directly, and the strain it puts on me is... considerable. I can’t just amplify someone like Gojo. The gap in our power is too large. I’d never be able to adapt to your energy it would just… burn me up"

Gojo snorted in amusement. "Yeah, I figured. You’re not exactly on my level, huh?" It reminded her of the sneers he lobbed at her cousin. "What about Geto then? Can you do it to him?" He lazily motioned towards his friend.

"It's uh- it's a little invasive. But I can try if you are fine with it."  Kugutsu was more than happy to comply if Geto was fine with it. This was the first time in this conversation that she felt like she was given something to latch onto. She wasn’t the biggest fan of Gojo, and Geto by association, but she was eager to please and get out of this conversation. A lifeline was thrown her way. Something to do and accomplish.

Geto raised an eyebrow, but there was no sign of hesitation in his expression. "Go ahead." 

Kugutsu walked forward, feeling the penetrative stare of Satoru Gojo dissecting her every move. She placed her hand on Geto’s arm, the contact sending a rush of warmth through her fingers. She focused, trying to draw her cursed energy into his, carefully controlling the flow as it began to mix. Geto’s cursed energy was interesting, cool like the wind in fall covered in little specks of something else. She had heard of his Cursed Technique: Cursed Spirit Manipulation. Were those his spirits, slowly coloring his cursed energy? 

Kugutsu familiarized herself with his energy and then worked on molding herself to match. It’s all about balance, and she wasn’t sure if she could balance herself to take on Geto’s impressive display of cursed energy. After a moment, Geto became surrounded in his own light sheen of cursed energy, enhanced by Kugutsu's own. Geto’s eyes widened, looking at her in surprise. For a moment, the connection between them felt smooth, almost effortless. But as she pushed more of her cursed energy into his, her hands began to sting with a sharp, burning sensation. Her cursed energy felt volatile, sharp and unfamiliar to herself. Her body resisted the strange energy of Geto that was overpowering her own. 

Kugutsu staggered back, gasping for breath as she wiped the sweat from her brow. The pain from the strain of amplifying Geto's cursed energy was overwhelming, and her body felt like it had been set on fire. Every nerve was alive with the painful tingling of energy that wasn’t her own, trying to force its way through her and tear her apart.

Geto seemed unfazed, his usual calm demeanor barely shifting even as the exchange left him momentarily dizzy. He straightened, rubbing his arm where Kugutsu had touched him. 

"Wow that... was interesting," he said quietly, though there was a note of concern in his voice. "Are you alright?"

"The gap in cursed energy between you and me is just too big." She coughed violently again. "Like I said before, It's not much." Kugutsu clenched her jaw, trying to steady herself, her legs shaky. She felt like her cursed energy was going to implode, her energy struggled to find equilibrium.

"Well… you’re right about that," Gojo began, "I mean sure the enhancement was cool but even still you really didn’t do it for long. And the setup is atrocious, far too long to do in a fight."

Kugutsu grit her teeth. "I’m sorry I wasn’t up to your standards Gojo."

"You should be! I thought you were a puzzle but now the mystery is over, and it wasn't even fun."

"Satoru." Geto warned.

"Under the right circumstances I could find a use for it. But really, would I rather have her on a mission over anyone else? Please. I’d be better off alone or with you than having to drag her along. At the end of the day Jujutsu Sorcery is an individual sport." 

Kugutsu couldn’t take it anymore. She bowed deeply.

"Thank you for your time." She choked out, leaving the room in a hurry. She didn’t know where she was going or why, but she couldn't stay there in that room. She didn’t want to be there. Not a second longer. She doesn’t know why it affected her the way it did. She didn’t particularly care for their opinion of her, she didn’t even like them. But like a little girl, she wanted to feel useful and important. She wanted to feel like she had a use and could be trusted. She wanted direction, and order and stability and all those things that made putting one foot in front of the other easier. She could still feel the sting in her palms where they had connected with Geto’s cursed energy, a reminder of how weak and out of control her own cursed energy felt.

Her body still hurt. Her cursed energy foreign to herself. Her legs shook underneath her as she pushed herself to walk forward.

She wandered down the halls, head held low and pace quick. She didn’t have a direction in mind just putting distance between herself and that stupid room. Out a window she watched a spar between two students, they moved in their own kind of dance. She watched their cursed energy rise and fall with the flow of battle. What the hell was even the point of watching for that kind of thing anymore.

A hand rested on her shoulder. She spun around a crazed look in her eyes pushing the hand off her shoulder.

"Uh, you alright?" Geto’s voice resounded in her ears.

"What do you think?"

"That's fair. Listen, I just wanted to apologize for what happened there."

Kugutsu let out a deep breath she didn’t remember holding. "It’s fine. Nothing to apologize for, it's just the truth." She coughed violently, taking a step away from Geto.

He sighed, running a hand down his face. The look he gave Kugutsu full of pity. She hated it. 

"Listen, I’ve been where you are. I’ve always felt... out of place. Like there was something wrong with me. It’s part of why I ended up here. And being classmates with Gojo isn’t easy either. He means well most of the time but he isn’t always… well nice about it."

"Thanks."

"Just don't try and compare yourself to a giant like Gojo. His case is special. No one should be comparing themselves to him." 

Kugutsu’s frown deepened

"If you’re willing, I’ll help you figure your shit out," Geto continued.

"Aren’t you busy with missions?"

"I am, but I can help you when I can. You’re a good sparring partner and if you can get your cursed technique down you’d be an awesome support sorcerer. Even if that’s just helping Shoko whenever she gets her technique down."

"You would help me?"

"Of course! Those of us from non sorcerer families have to stick together right? All this Jujutsu Society stuff can be a real pain sometimes." Geto smiled. "And I felt that enhancement personally, if you can get better there's no telling what people like me and Gojo can achieve."

Kugutsu paused, measuring her response. She had gotten a bit excited, which was unlike her. It was improper. But this was exciting.

"Thank you," she replied softly. "Thank you for taking on the extra workload." She went to bow again but was stopped by Geto’s hands on her shoulders.

"Dude, you have to stop doing that. We’re classmates which means it's fine." He paused contemplating. 

"Thank you again, Geto."

"No problem."

As Geto walked away Kugutsu wondered if it was pity, selfishness, or genuine empathy that brought Geto to the conclusion of helping her. She didn’t particularly care what answer she found. She would take advantage of it either way and become someone Jujutsu Society could depend upon.

Chapter Text

It didn’t take long for her cursed energy to go back to normal. A day of not using it and keeping her distance from everyone was all it took. She was still shaken by the whole ordeal, but at least something good came from it: training with Geto. Most of his mentorship came in the way of knowledge. He would drop books off at her dorm room with highlighted passages he thought would be of interest to her. He expected her to read them and understand them next training session. These sessions were nothing passive, he would quiz her on the information while she dodged for her life against the encroaching pursuit of his fists. At first it was hard to remember information while also trying to focus on his cursed energy. Her frustration evident every time thinking of an answer cost her a kick to the stomach. Eventually though her mind started catching up, reading her opponent fell into the background and her mind could focus on recalling the information she had studied the night before. 

Geto was an incredibly patient teacher. He pushed her hard, never hesitating to call out her hesitation, but he was always attentive to her needs. His directness left no room for confusion about where she stood, yet his presence carried a calmness that kept her frustration from boiling over. Over time, she realized he also had a sly streak. While not as brazen or insufferable as Gojo, Geto had a subtle way of teasing her that caught her off guard. A sly remark here, a knowing smile there- it wasn’t enough to really annoy her, but it chipped away at the overly serious image she’d had of him.

After weeks of hard work she was finally chosen for her first mission. Well, "chosen" is certainly not the correct word for it. It was more like she was a… stand in. Haibara had come down with something fierce, some kind of sickness that had left him bedridden for the past few days. So he got pulled and Kugutsu took her place- meaning she was finally chosen for a mission. She couldn’t fully shake that gross feeling of being the last pick in dodgeball, but it's better to be picked last than to not get to play. At least that's what she kept telling herself.

The mission itself was straightforward enough: a grade 2 cursed spirit had taken up residence in a local shopping mall. The haunting had already resulted in ten missing persons, with an overwhelming influx of cursed energy saturating the building. Their orders were simple: exorcise the curse, locate any survivors, and get out.

Kugutsu knew she was ready. She had trained for this moment, endured Geto’s unrelenting quizzes, and sharpened her abilities through countless sparring matches. Yet, no matter how prepared she tried to feel, a nagging voice lingered in her mind. It was maddeningly familiar, full of mockery and lazy arrogance- Gojo’s voice, as clear as if he were standing next to her.

"Would I rather have her on a mission over anyone else? Please."

Her jaw clenched at the memory. At the end of the day this was her mission now and it would get done.

Kugutsu, Nanami, Geto, and a Window were currently en route to the cursed shopping mall. Their ride was quiet, save for the faint hum of the car engine and the occasional tap of Geto’s fingers against the windowpane. He was with them more as a supervisor than an active participant. With Yaga-sensei’s hands full juggling both the second and first years- managing students like Gojo, it fell to Geto to oversee this mission. Despite his usual air of nonchalance, Kugutsu could tell he was paying attention.

Nanami appeared calm, his expression unreadable as usual. He sat with his arms crossed, his posture betraying neither nerves nor anticipation. It was just Nanami being… Nanami.

Meanwhile, the Window, a woman in her 40s with stringy brown hair, drove, glancing at the backseat every time she could. Kugutsu isn’t sure why exactly, but she seemed on edge in their presence. Maybe she had an unpleasant experience with other jujutsu students… The name Satoru Gojo came to mind.

Kugutsu shifted silently in her seat, unable to find a comfortable position. She had entered a nervous cycle: play with her seat belt, glance at the swirling patterns of her palms, adjust her uniform and repeat. She shouldn’t be nervous. This was one of the few scenarios since joining the world of Jujutsu that was clear. She had clear directions, an objective to work towards and complete. There was no grey area, there was no maybes. She had orders, and that had always brought her a sense of calm nothing else quite could. It was like a security blanket, it removed her need to contemplate and left no room for doubt. Ask her to jump. She wouldn’t even ask how high, she would jump as best as she possibly could and leave nothing to be desired. 

And yet-

"You’re awfully quiet, Sone. You’re not nervous, are you?" Geto broke the silence, his tone light. 

"No, there's no need to be." she said a little too forcefully. She caught Nanami’s gaze.

Geto chuckled softly. "It’s normal to be on edge before your first mission. You’d be stupid not to. What matters is keeping a clear head once we’re there."

"Right…" Kugutsu muttered, her hands tightening into fists.

"Remember," Geto continued. "This isn’t just about you. Jujutsu Sorcerers are sent with others when there is good reason to believe them working together will accomplish more than the individuals could on their own." He leaned back, resting his arm casually on the car door. "You have been sent as a unit. Think about why that is."

Nanami spoke up, his voice even. "I for one appreciate your presence. I’m glad I can be here for your first mission."

Kugutsu blinked, caught off guard by Nanami’s words. She turned to look at him, unsure if she’d heard him correctly. There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm or condescension in his tone- just a calm, matter-of-fact sincerity that made her heart lighten, if only a little.

"Thank you," she said softly, the tightness in her chest easing.

"Don’t read too much into it," Nanami added. "I just think it’s important that we succeed. I was also nervous on my first mission."

Kugutsu couldn’t help but smile a little. Leave it to Nanami to turn encouragement into something so pragmatic. Still, the words stayed with her, grounding her in the moment.

Geto, ever observant, turned back to look at them from the passenger seat. "Well, look at that. Nanami, the motivational speaker. I should bring you along more often."

Nanami didn’t speak, but the corners of his lips turned upwards ever so slightly. Kugutsu knows how much he truly looks up to his upperclassman. Nanami wasn’t the most talkative person in the world but she could see it. To be fair all of the first years really looked up to him and it was easy to see why. While Gojo bulldozed forwards on his own path, Geto always took time to look out for those around him. While he did take special time out of his day to mentor Kugutsu (a fact she was very grateful for), it didn’t stop there. She had seen him helping Nanami and Haibara out with many of the different aspects of being a sorcerer: cursed, energy, missions, combat- she had even seen Geto tutor Haibara in math for a few nights. Geto was incredibly powerful, already being stretched thinner than any student ever really should but he still made time for them.

The rest of the drive continued in near silence, broken only by the occasional murmur between Nanami and Kugutsu as they worked to iron out their strategy. Neither of them was particularly chatty- Nanami because he was naturally reserved, and Kugutsu because her mind was busy spinning through the possibilities of the fight ahead. She wasn’t the strongest combatant, she told herself, so she would just need to be the smartest.

Taking Geto’s earlier advice to heart, they focused on how their strengths could complement each other. With the looming weight of their first mission together, the conversation was as much about keeping their nerves steady as it was about tactical planning.

"Let’s assume it targets you first," Kugutsu began, her voice low but deliberate. "I can enhance you just before you land a strike with your technique. It’ll let you hit harder without you having to worry about matching my movements"

Nanami nodded. "And if it targets you?"

"I’ll focus on evasion, dodging and keeping it moving." She paused, considering. "The idea is to lead it into a position where you can exploit its weak points. If it’s distracted with me, you’ll have a clearer shot with your technique."

Nanami glanced at her, his gaze steady. "You’ll have to trust me to hit my mark."

"I trust you," she said without hesitation, surprising even herself with the confidence in her voice. After a moment, she added, "But you’ll have to trust me to use my cursed technique on you."

Nanami considered her words carefully, his tone thoughtful. "Timing is everything. If you do it too early or too late…"

"It’ll mess you up," Kugutsu finished.

The mention of cursed energy brought a flicker of approval from Geto, though he remained quiet, letting them work through the plan on their own.

"Then we stick to those two gameplans," Nanami said, his voice firm. "If something changes, we adapt."

Kugutsu nodded, feeling a strange sense of relief. The plan wasn’t perfect, but it was something they could both commit to. 

As the car pulled into the desolate parking lot of the shopping mall, Kugutsu felt her pulse quicken. The building loomed before them, dark and foreboding, the oppressive weight of cursed energy seeping out like a heavy fog.

"Well, isn’t this an inviting sight?" Geto said with a grin, as they all stepped out of the car.

"Thats- thats a lot of cursed energy." She muttered more to herself than anyone else.

"Alright, my job is just to supervise so I wont be going into the building with you. That doesn’t mean I can’t help out a little." He summoned two small snake-like cursed spirits, each curling themselves around a first year. "Think of these as a fail-safe." Geto gave the two first years a reassuring smile.

They nodded. Kugutsu couldn’t help but read the snake curse’s energy as it curled around her. It was weak, not dissimilar to a common curse, but interestingly she could vaguely feel Geto’s familiar cursed energy laying overtop the curse like a cage of his own design. Maybe this is how he tamed them.

She adjusted her uniform before sharing a glance with Nanami. His expression unchanged: resolute, focused and determined. Nanami, ever dependable, even when she felt like a bag of nerves. Her palms tingled with the mass amounts of different cursed energy signatures in the air. She was ready. Her body turned to Geto poised to bow but she suddenly stopped herself. He didn’t appreciate that, did he? Instead she waved, a little awkwardly, not sure where to place her hands. 

"Thank you, Geto. See you soon!" Kugutsu spoke, a small smile creeping onto her features. 

"Thank you." Nanami echoed her.

"Good luck."

Then, with a moment of unspoken synchronisation the two turned and walked into the building that was drowning in cursed energy. The two of them together had trained and honed their skills side by side, this is where they proved themselves.

The air inside the mall was stifling, heavy with the weight of cursed energy that pressed down like a physical force. It reminded Kugutsu of the first time she walked into Jujutsu High, an overwhelming feeling of being swallowed in all this energy. The moment they stepped across the threshold, the hum of the outside world seemed to fade, leaving only an eerie silence broken by the occasional creak of metal or distant echo.

The first floor stretched out before them. Once a bustling hub of life, the mall now felt like a mausoleum- an endless expanse of empty storefronts and shattered glass. Kugutsu’s skin prickled as she focused on the swirling patterns of cursed energy in the air, it was a lot to parse through.

Nanami took point, his cursed energy steady and unwavering as he gripped his blunt sword, his every step precise and deliberate. "Stay close," he said quietly, his voice calm but firm.

"Got it." Kugutsu fell into step behind him, her eyes darting from side to side as she mapped out the patterns of energy they were walking through. She could feel traces of weaker energies skittering at the edges of her awareness. 

"There are about ten cursed energy pockets scattered around the building. Those aren't moving but there are some other weaker cursed spirits wandering and moving around." Kugutsu paused, her head thrumming against her skull with all of the information she was trying to process at once. "One is a lot stronger, probably the main source of this. I can’t really pin it down though."

Nanami nodded, his grip on his weapon tightening. "We take out the smaller ones first, minimize distractions before facing the main target."

The two walked in silence, tense and alert. They had managed to take down a few of the smaller curses wandering around, not much stronger than common flyhead curses. They were likely attracted here by the swelling of cursed energy in the area. Even Kugutsu would take these down by herself, no problem. The mall itself was empty, almost labyrinthian in its vacant walls. The remains of abandoned stalls and unmoving escalators littering the space. 

A sound. Glass shattering. Above. 

A curse dropped from the ceiling with a guttural roar. Kugutsu’s heart raced as she watched Nanami charge forward, his sword raised, a surge of cursed energy following him. He was as steady as ever, his movements sharp and efficient. But Kugutsu knew they had to be ready for anything. The curse’s unnatural form was disturbing, a twisted amalgamation of human and store manekin, its body bulging with more limbs and eyes than it should have had. Its grotesque appearance, however, was not what worried her most. Its cursed energy was split. She had never seen such a thing.

"Something isn’t right about this thing, Nanami."

He grunted in response. 

"It’s splitting its energy," she murmured, more to herself than to Nanami. "It's like it is drawing on multiple sources of energy, not just its own."

Nanami paused, his eyes narrowing as he adjusted his stance. He could feel the cursed energy too, but not in the way she could.

"Don’t focus too much on it," he said, steady despite the growing sense of danger. "We take it down like any other curse. If it’s unstable, it’ll fall apart once we start applying pressure."

Nanami launched forward, engaging the creature with a burst of speed. Kugutsu cleared her thoughts, centering herself in her role. She would wait until Nanami was about to strike, then dash in, amplify his energy, and retreat before the creature could react. It was a rhythm they had grown accustomed to through countless hours of training. Nanami would lead, striking and dodging with precise, calculated movements, while Kugutsu would select the right moments to enhance his cursed energy, boosting the force of his attacks without disrupting his flow. 

During one of their earlier training sessions, they had tried having Kugutsu maintain physical contact with Nanami throughout the fight, but she quickly realized that matching his style exactly wasn’t feasible for her- at least not yet. Each person’s fighting instincts were unique, and she needed to work with his movements, not mirror them. Their current approach, a coordinated dance, was the best they could do for now.

Still, as she danced with Nanami, she couldn’t help but think that something wasn’t right. They were hitting the creature, dealing devastating blow after blow after blow but it wasn’t having the effect she was expecting. And as the duo began to tire from their continued assault, the creature was just getting started. 

A devastating blow caught Nanami in the chest, sharp claw marks blossoming with blood over his body. The creature pressed forward relentlessly, its monstrous limbs landing blow after blow against Nanami, sending him crashing to the floor with brutal force. Kugutsu moved quickly, her body tensing as she stepped into the fray, positioning herself between the curse and her fallen comrade.

"Nanami, take a breather," she called out, her voice tight with worry. Without waiting for a response, she dashed forward, drawing the creature’s attention with swift, calculated movements. She weaved under its long, grotesque limbs, skillfully maneuvering it away from Nanami, her focus razor-sharp.

The creature lunged at her, its movements erratic. Okay , she thought, the closer I get, the more it hits me, the more I can learn. I can figure out what's wrong with this thing. Each strike against her brought a sharp jolt of cursed energy that she fought to process, trying to read the creature’s essence with every brush of contact. It was brutal, and this thing hit hard but she didn’t have much of a choice. She had to make contact with the creature.

Kugutsu’s jaw cracked painfully as the creature landed a brutal punch, snapping her head back. Blood welled in her mouth, but she didn’t let it distract her. Her mind was working overtime, piecing together the tidbits of information she got with each hit. There are ten hearts, ten weak points, she thought, struggling to stay upright as the creature swung its arm again.

Her gaze darted across the building, trying to pinpoint where those cursed signatures were coming from. Weak. Vulnerable. Take out those hearts, and the curse will either die or become weak enough for us to finish it.

Kugutsu’s heart raced in her chest as she dodged another swing, her legs giving way slightly under the force of the blow, but she forced herself to stay on her feet. Every inch of her body screamed, but she pushed through, the plan forming in her mind, sharp and precise. This was their chance. They could win this. She just needed to execute it.

With a sharp breath, she made a quick decision and created distance between herself and the creature. Let’s see who’s faster, she thought, eyes narrowing as she focused on her next move. The creature, momentarily confused by her retreat, seemed to hesitate in its pursuit.

In an instant, Kugutsu dashed forward and slid between its legs, her body agile and quick. She darted toward Nanami, who, thanks to her distraction, had managed to regain his footing. Kugutsu didn’t hesitate. She reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him into motion, running as fast as she could.

Her grip tightened around his hand, feeling the familiar surge of his cursed energy beneath her palm. It was steady and unwavering, the rhythm of his power syncing with her own. She focused, drawing on her ability to enhance the cursed energy she was holding. With a steady pulse, she pushed more of her own cursed energy into his, amplifying it as they sprinted away from the monster, finally breaking line of sight. 

"What the hell is going on?" protested Nanami, his body glowing with cursed energy.

Kugutsu took a second to catch her breath, her mind running faster than her body could follow. "Those ten bits of cursed energy? Those are where its power is coming from. It's why our attacks weren’t doing much. It’s getting fed by those things scattered around the building. We win if we destroy those."

Nanami slowed his pace beside her, processing the information. His face, usually so calm and unreadable, showed the smallest flicker of recognition. He understood. He always did, in his own methodical way.

He let out a low hum of understanding. "So it’s like a parasite feeding off the curses it controls. Take out the source, and it’ll lose its strength?"

"That's my guess, yeah."

"So we split up, ignore the cursed spirit as much as we can, focus on finding and eliminating those "hearts" as you call them. Then we reconvene back at the entrance. Either the creature is dead and we’ve killed it, or it's weak and we deal with it together."

Kugutsu nodded. Her mouth moved to respond until suddenly- a crash from her right. Her and Nanami jumped out of the way just in time as the creature landed between them. Kugutsu took a deep breath before running in the opposite direction of Nanami. This was the plan. Divide and conquer. The creature would be forced to follow one of them. Kugutsu hoped that it would follow her.

Chapter Text

Kugutsu bolted up a set of escalators towards the nearest heart she could sense. It had been a long time since she had last touched the creature, and her familiarity with its energy was fading- and fast. If she didn’t reach a heart in time she would really struggle to locate it in all this mess of cursed energy.  Every step felt heavier, the air thick with cursed energy that clawed at her senses. It made her head spin, each breath shallow as the sickly weight of the mall's aura bore down on her.

The connection was slipping, and Kugutsu couldn’t help but feel a pang of frustration. Her training was meant to prepare her for this, but the reality of combat, the rush of adrenaline, and the overwhelming weight of cursed energy were clouding her mind. Her legs burned with every step, muscles screaming in protest, but she didn’t dare slow. The echo of her shoes pounding was drowned out by the oppressive hum of cursed energy. She couldn’t afford hesitation, not now.

She almost missed it, just managing to slip into the small custodian's closet as her familiarity with the creature's energy finally faded. Her breathing was ragged, her body hurt all over. The custodian's closet was cramped and stifling, a narrow refuge amidst the chaos. Brooms and cleaning supplies were stacked high, boxes shoved in every direction. It reeked of stale chemicals, the smell almost suffocating as Kugutsu leaned against a dusty shelf, trying to steady her breathing. Right she thought, time to break this thing’s heart.

The decapitated head of a woman, long hair flowing past the base of its severed neck. Its eyes opened in agony and its mouth stretched wide to its limit. In its center was a reflective crystal ball swirling with cursed energy. 

"This is… ten victims. Ten hearts." Kugutsu released a shaky breath at the horrifying sight. How strong would this creature have been had it found more victims for its cause? More hearts to gather.

She shook her head violently. The mission. Direction. A Goal. Her orders. Nanami. It all took president. She gently pried the crystal from the woman’s mouth, jumping when her jaw snapped shut with a loud crack. The crystal in her palm made her feel unwell. Its swirling current of dark energy viscously pushing up against hers. It’s energy was pulling her in. Like it wanted her energy.

She felt an unfamiliar presence- Geto’s snake curse. It curled against her arm, tightening slightly, pulling her out of her thoughts. She silently thanked the small creature. It was comforting despite the horrible mass of energy in her fingertips. Without another word she crushed the ball in her palm, watching its cursed energy float into the air, before dashing out of the closet. One down, four more to go. She trusted Nanami to handle the other five.

It didn’t take long for her to get the other four and reach the entrance. Each one was similar to the first, a decapitated head, a swirling ball of energy that was quickly squashed underfoot. She stood at the entrance with a frown. Kugutsu couldn’t make out any cursed energy anymore under the oppressive force of her surroundings. Her head thrummed, her body was sore, but the job wasn’t done. 

She considered her options: stay here and wait for Nanami to arrive like they had planned, or go off in search of him in case he is in danger. She took a deep breath taking the brief moment of quiet to recompose herself. What would Nanami expect of her? What would Geto? Yaga-sensei? Even Gojo? 

She didn’t have to wait long, bursting through a wall came the same creature she had been pummeled by before. It looked much the same, now covered in a crackling pattern that resembled glass. Its energy swirling violently, blood coating its blank mannequin features. Whose blood was that? It charged at her, its movements quicker than before. She flew into a nearby wall, her back cracking on impact. Quickly regaining her footing she settled into a battle stance.

If the curse is here, where is Nanami? 

She was distracted, an elbow straight to the side of her head followed by a quick swipe of its claw at her shoulder. This thing was faster. It was stronger. Why was it stronger? They had weakened it. Kugutsu focused, trying to read this thing's energy as it pummeled into her body for the second time that night. She could still feel two tethers connecting it to its hearts. A quick swipe of the legs, she barely avoided. She placed a palm on its torso, dodging a quick swipe. 

Two hearts left. Where was Nanami?

She tried creating distance from the creature, but its pursuit was endless. What the hell happened to this thing? If it had less hearts shouldn’t it be weak? Why was it stronger? She had not confronted many curses herself, she had shadowed missions, studied, and done research. Her experience was slim, but even she could tell, this wasn’t a grade 2 creature anymore. This was something much more dangerous. Instead of creating distance, she resorted to running, ducking and weaving through hallways, storefronts and anything she could to give her space. She can’t kill this thing. Not in its weakened state, and most certainly not now. 

Kugutsu skidded around a corner, narrowly avoiding a collision with a display case. Her body screamed for a break, but she couldn’t afford it. Her senses were screaming at her, the atmosphere thick with cursed energy. This was nightmarish. She had to think. What was the solution here? What happened? Eight hearts crushed and it was only stronger. Cause and effect. If the only thing that changed was that it grew stronger than those must be the reason. Crushing those must have made it stronger.

She cursed herself under her breath, jumping through an already broken window into another part of the mall. She thought it would weaken it but it only made it stronger, great detective work on her part. 

Still , she thought, we couldn’t hurt it when those weren’t destroyed so maybe it's a trade off? Invulnerable but weak, fragile but strong?  

She darted out of the way of an oncoming strike from the monster hot on her tail. If she managed to crush the other two hearts maybe they could still kill it. Her thoughts wandered to Nanami. Her own offensive capabilities were zero. She wouldn’t be able to kill it without him, let alone survive the current onslaught but even more powerful. 

Her eyes drifted to the snake curse by her side. It did feel like a loss, but regardless of how she hated to admit it, this monster was way above their skill level at its current state. If it got even stronger, it would kill her and Nanami without a doubt. She had no way of contacting Geto and she wasn’t about to leave Nanami in here by herself. Plus dragging this thing chasing her outside? No way she would survive that. She remembered then, that she felt Geto’s energy through this tiny little curse. If she could parse his energy and the curses maybe she could enhance Geto’s cursed energy from here. She wasn’t sure if it would work, or even if Geto would interpret it as the distress signal it was, but it was worth a shot. 

To do so, she would need to concentrate, an idea more unfathomable by the second as the creature slowly gained on her. It was going to reach her eventually, she decided after a moment's hesitation. Better have it reach her on her own terms with a hope of survival. 

So she stood still, holding the snake-curse in her hands. She dodged the attacks she could on instinct but her entire body was focused on dissecting the energy of the creature before her. Her grip tightened on the snake curse, its tiny form almost insignificant in comparison to the beast hunting her. Despite its size, it pulsed with a connection to Geto- one that she had once felt as a subtle undercurrent, but now, as the danger grew, it felt like a lifeline.

Her body was getting pummeled. Without her entire soul concentrating on evading this thing she was in essence a punching bag. She avoided only what was entirely necessary to prolong her life and her work. Kugutsu focused on the snake curse, trying to separate its energy from the chaos around her. She reached inward, pulling on the tiny threads of connection that linked it to Geto.

She could feel it. His presence, faint but clear, like a whisper among a thousand screams. Geto’s energy was there, buried beneath the small creature, but strong enough to guide her. She had to amplify it. If she could send him a signal, if she could just focus hard enough, maybe- just maybe- he could hear her distress.

Her palms burned from the effort, her cursed energy difficult to mold under her extended duress. She couldn’t do this for long, Geto’s cursed energy was strong, even if muffled through his snake. On top of that she had used so much cursed energy already and even her body itself was protesting the action. She held onto the energy for as long as she could- like trying to hold sand in her hands as it rushed past her fingers. Finally she relented to the feeling, hoping that it was enough. That her distress; however vague and unclear, had somehow gotten to Geto. That was all she could hope for.

Another punch from the creature, this time with its clawed appendage left her stomach skewered on it, like a piece of fresh meat. He released her. Kugutsu felt the rushing wind of falling before sharp contact made its way to her side and she surged in another direction, collapsing against a nearby wall. So much for dodging. 

The creature paused. She could see it, hazy behind her swirling vision. Someone, hopefully Nanami, had broken another one of the hearts. One more to go. Kugutsu smiled as the creature roared. Now she could see it with her own eyes, as the mannequin monster’s body cracked further and it roared in pain. She saw its cursed energy swell. She was right, it was getting stronger with each heart they destroyed. How ironic.

Kugutsu stood, her movements slower than she would have liked. Her blood a pool around her feet. If she was going to die here, it would be fighting. She would give Nanami and Geto the best chance possible to destroy this thing. Looking at it now, it was easily a first grade curse after they destroyed those hearts, maybe even a special grade. A weaker one, one that was just born and didn’t have a chance to develop, but whatever the case something far above her level. She chuckled, a little delirious. Her first mission. Really it was quite funny how desperate she was to get to this point.

She could barely keep her eyes open but she knew where the last heart was. She would get it if it was the last thing she did. As the monster approached her to finish her off she darted, rushing towards the last heart. It was close, farther than she would have liked, but it was close. Her body protested, but she didn’t pay it any mind. If Geto wasn’t coming, and Nanmi was fighting his own battles, this was hers. Her cursed energy was almost empty, but she could feel this heart. She would get it.

She darted past the monster's slashes, stumbling as he made contact but pushing on regardless. She was thankful that this creature hadn’t exhibited intelligent thought. If this creature was smart she knew she wouldn’t be standing. It would have killed her ages ago, but like a dog playing fetch, it followed her path and bit on her faints.

She found it then, stuffed in the back of the food court, another decapitated head. The creature's roar echoed in her ears as it barreled toward her, its jagged form distorting with fury. Kugutsu’s triumph was fleeting, the sharp sting of exhaustion and pain clawing at her mind, clouding her thoughts. She didn’t even register the creature’s speed as it surged forward, its unnatural limbs propelling it faster than she could react. One moment, she was standing, holding the heart and the next, her body was flying thrown back with bone-crushing force. 

Her body collided with the floor, the impact driving the air from her lungs in a painful gasp. Her vision blurred, the edges of reality warping as the world tilted sideways. The heart flew out of her hands as the creature hovered over her, one of its legs dangerously close to squashing her head like a bug.

She reached out weakly, fingers trembling, but there was nothing left to pull from within her. She was running on fumes, and the darkness encroaching on her vision was the only thing that felt certain now. In a moment of desperation she aligned her cursed energy to that of the curse. Willing its cursed energy away from herself, away from the foot that was currently crushing her. She isn’t sure why or how, but something in the creature shifted. The pressure on her body shifted off her, just enough for her to scramble out from underneath its mass. Her vision was blurry, her legs useless. 

Her legs shook with the effort, and her body screamed in protest, but she managed to force herself into a half-crouch, her fingers digging into the cold floor for support. Her breaths were shallow and broken, her vision flickering in and out. The creature, now momentarily disoriented, gave a furious roar, its body writhing and contorting as it seemed to regather its strength. But for now, it was distracted.

Through the haze, Kugutsu saw a flash of familiar cursed energy- Geto . His figure was outlined by the swirling chaos of cursed energy, but there was no mistaking the grim expression on his face as he crushed the final heart beneath his foot.

The creature howled in agony, its body shattering with the impact, but Kugutsu knew better. She knew it wasn’t agony. It was a promise for things much worse. She tried to explain to Geto what was happening but her mouth wasn’t working like she wanted it to. She realized quickly that neither was her body or her vision. Finally succumbing to the exhaustion of the mission her body collapsed. She had managed to get the last heart, Geto was here. She followed her orders. 

Kugutsu’s body hit the cold floor with a thud, her limbs too heavy to move, her mind too foggy to think. The sharp edge of exhaustion was all-encompassing, drowning out everything around her. Her vision flickered in and out, the edges of the world warping into a haze of muted colors. She had done it. She had crushed the last heart, and now Geto was here.

She felt herself slip into unconsciousness, a vague sensation of relief settling over her. The weight of her mission was done. She had fought. She had endured. Her body could no longer take any more, and as the darkness overtook her, she allowed herself to surrender to it.

The next time she awoke her body felt like it was on fire. Her body was restrained, she thrashed to get free.

"Calm down, calm down. You’re fine."

Her eyes flickered open, but everything was blurry at first. Geto was kneeling over her, bandaging her wounds. He looked down at her with that same unreadable expression he always wore, but there was a faint glint of something softer in his eyes. Relief, perhaps? His voice, low and calm, broke the silence.

"I’m giving you some basic first aid and then we’re getting out of here. The cursed spirit has been neutralized."

Just beyond Geto’s shoulder she could faintly make out the shape of Nanami’s blond head. She had never been happier to see him. Kugutsu tried to smile, but it felt like too much effort. Her body was worn, but there was satisfaction in knowing they had succeeded. She had done her part, and she didn’t fail. The job was done.

Her eyes closed again, and she let herself relax, knowing that for now, the mission was over. The threat had been neutralized.

Chapter Text

In the near future, receiving the injuries she had would be commonplace. She would visit Shoko, she would get patched up and that would be the end of it. As a student; however, Shoko was still learning. There weren’t any get out of jail free cards. If you had an injury she could lessen it but the pain would stay. The body would have to heal mostly all by itself. 

That meant Kugutsu was set to rest for a couple of weeks post mission. No training. Nothing that could strain her body further. She was covered in bandages and too many stitches to count. Honestly she should get Shoko some chocolates or something for all the hard work she put into keeping Kugutsu alive and in the business. Nanami was better off than she was, probably because he didn’t have to let the thing hit him to be useful. She was glad. All things considered the mission was a success and no one died. Flawless? Not even a little. Her bruised ribs were a reminder of that. 

Regardless, she did what she could. She did more than she ever thought she would be able to. Despite that her mind was swirling with questions. What exactly was the extent of her cursed technique? What was the limit? What was her use? Being left alone with nothing to do wasn’t good for her brain. Her thoughts kept dipping back into the sort of question that made her doubt everything. Would someone else have been better off for the mission? Would her effort get her anywhere? 

A knock at her door pushed away those thoughts. It took her longer than she would care to admit, but eventually she hobbled over to her door and opened it. 

"Hey! How are you holding up?" Geto spoke, eyes quickly darting across her figure.

Her hair was out of its usual clean braids, sprawling out messily around her face. Her face for that matter was covered in bandages. Her body was clearly favoring her right side. Despite all of that it was still much better than the sight of her unconscious bloody and bruised form.

"Been better. Mostly just tired of being in bed all day."

Geto smirked lightly, stepping inside uninvited but welcomed nonetheless. "Well, I brought a little something to save you from the boredom. Not as exciting as a mission, but better than counting ceiling tiles."

He held up a small stack of books. The corners were dog-eared, and Kugutsu could see his notes scribbled in the margins even from where she stood.

"I figured you’d appreciate something to keep your brain busy since your body’s out of commission," he said, setting them down on the small table by her bed.

Kugutsu groaned. "That's the only thing I have been doing. Just obsessing over that mall."

"Don’t focus on what you wish you could have done, it's never going to end well."

"That's not what I mean." Kugutsu hobbled to her bed pulling out a beat up spiral notebook. "These are my theories. It's not a lot, I don’t have a lot of experience out in the field actually using my cursed technique but it's all based on what we’ve been working on." She held it over her head almost triumphantly  before flinching in pain. 

Geto’s head tilted curiously "Do you mind if I take a look?"

Kugutsu shrugged. What was the point in theorizing if the smart people didn’t actually take a look at it. Sure she had done research, but he had experience, power and everything she lacked. She would be overjoyed if he saw something she didn’t. Geto took the notebook delicately.

As he read Kugutsu didn’t really know what to do with herself. She realized quickly that this was the first time she had visitors in her dorm room and it was a mess. Her family would have been appalled at the sorry sight. Not that she exactly had a choice in the matter given the battered state of her body. Still it made her uncomfortable.

Geto, who was at first just skimming through the pages, paused. He pulled out her desk chair and sat down, reading a passage over and over. His brow furrowed more and more as he read.

"Everything alright?" 

"You don’t think you need physical touch?"

"It's just a theory, Geto. Probably nothing."

"Explain."

Kugutsu sighed "When you came to save us- or well me-” Embarrassment lingered in her voice.”-in that mall. Why did you come?" 

"I felt your cursed energy and assumed something must have been wrong."

Kugutsu nodded, gesturing vaguely toward her notebook. "Exactly. That’s the thing. I’ve been thinking about it since the mission. When I use my technique, I always thought physical touch was the trigger- like the anchor that lets me tap into someone’s cursed energy. But I enhanced your cursed energy through your curse. I touched the curse, I didn’t touch you."

Geto leaned back in the chair before chuckling softly to himself. 

"Is that what this drawing is supposed to mean?" He turned the notebook around revealing an actually abysmal drawing of the snake curse and a stick figure Geto with an arrow between the two.

Kugutsu flushed, reaching out to snatch the notebook from his hands, but her sore muscles protested the sudden movement. She winced, clutching her side as she glared at him. "It’s a visual aid, not a masterpiece."

Geto held the notebook just out of her reach, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "Visual aid or not, this looks like something a six-year-old scribbled during naptime."

"The point still stands. When I enhanced your cursed energy in the mall, I didn’t touch you directly. I touched the snake curse you sent after me. And if I could enhance your energy through it, then maybe physical contact isn’t as necessary as I thought."

Geto’s teasing expression turned contemplative for a moment. He put the book in his pocket. "I’m gonna read over this and let you know what I think."

Kugutsu nodded, not really knowing how to respond. It wasn’t a question, he wasn't asking her if he could. He just… did. She wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of anyone else seeing her half baked theories but she trusted Geto to at least be civilized about it. Her very personal notebook disappeared on his person.

As Geto turned to leave, Kugutsu still had a lingering question.

"Geto, what is it like being close to someone like Gojo?"

Geto paused at the door, turning to face her. "What do you mean?"

"While I was on the mission, what he said kept racing through my head. I want to be mad and say he's just full of himself but… he's not- is he? I mean he's arrogant but no one can deny he has the skills to back it up."

Geto’s smile faltered slightly, replaced by a contemplative look. "Satoru is… complicated. He acts like he’s above it all because, in a way, he is."

Kugutsu frowned, absently picking at the edge of her bandages. "That doesn’t excuse him treating people like they’re beneath him."

"It doesn’t," Geto agreed. "But it’s not as black and white as it seems. He does care, in his own way. Gojo wants people who are strong enough to stand at his level. When people don’t match up he can lash out. By being rude, even cruel at times he's figuring out who will take the challenge. Those who had no chance won't ever rise to it. Those who can well, he's hoping a bit of anger will push them to reach him. It worked for me."

"Really?"

"When I first met him he was an asshole- he still is. But he pushed me, and now I’m at his level. When I first got here I barely knew what cursed energy was, let alone being good enough to stand next to Gojo. I would say I have improved since then." 

Kugutsu scoffed, though her expression softened. "That’s… annoyingly optimistic."

Geto shrugged, "It’s just the way it worked out." He opened the door to leave, pausing with his final words. "Read up. I won't go easy on you next training session. If you reopen a stitch that's your fault."

With that Geto retreated out the door, leaving Kugutsu to dwell on her thoughts. She stared at the closed door for a long moment, her thoughts swirling like leaves caught in a storm. Geto’s words about Gojo lingered, equal parts irritating and thought-provoking. The idea that Gojo’s dismissive, cutting remarks might be a deliberate form of encouragement felt ridiculous- but also plausible. She sighed, finding a comfortable position in bed. The only thing she could truly do now was rest and recover.

It was only 5 hours later that another knock resounded at her door. She hobbled to the door, her sore body reminding her just how much she still had to recover. When she opened it, her heart sank.

"Gojo," she said flatly, eyebrows furrowed, her expression betraying her irritation before she could stop herself. Of course it had to be him.

Gojo stood at the threshold with his signature cocky grin, blue eyes gleaming with that insufferable confidence. His presence was always overbearing, his aura undeniably strong even when he was supposed to be acting casual. Kugutsu couldn’t help but deflate. Was he here to mock her in her sorry state? Just couldn’t get enough?

"Hey, Sone," he greeted, "I heard you’ve been busy working on some theories, so I figured I’d swing by and see what you’ve got."

Her stomach churned. "Wait, what are you talking about?"

"Geto was kind enough to let me take a look at your little notebook. Lots of cute little drawings in there," he continued, unphased by her stunned silence. "Gotta say, I didn’t expect it to be this interesting."

Kugutsu felt the heat rise in her cheeks. "You- You saw it?" Her voice faltered, both embarrassed and upset. She hadn’t expected Geto to just show it to him if she asked. Though, looking back on it now of course he would. Those two were practically joined at the hip. 

"Of course," Gojo replied with a nonchalant shrug, as if it were no big deal. "I mean, Geto had it, and he said you were struggling with figuring out your cursed technique. I just figured I'd help you out." 

Kugutsu clenched her fists, embarrassment mixing with irritation. She had barely worked through her ideas, and now Gojo had already picked them apart, treating them like they were nothing more than an exercise for his own amusement. She took a deep breath, trying to mask the sting of his words.

"I didn’t ask for your opinion," she muttered under her breath, but he must have heard her, because his lips curled into a smirk.

"Really? Well, it’s a good thing you’re getting it anyway," Gojo teased, tapping a finger against the side of his temple. "You should feel honored, getting advice from the strongest."

Kugutsu paused, despite the indignant instinct bubbling in her chest. He was right in a way. His advice would be incredibly helpful for her to improve. He was an asshole through and through but if she complied maybe she would get something out of it.

She bowed, as low as she could despite her injuries and her internal protests. "You are right. I would be honored." Her parents would be proud.

As she stood back up she saw the frown that overtook his features. It was funny in a way, everything was all smiles from this guy but a sign of respect is what smacked it off his face. His confident smile wavered, just for an instant, before he forced it back into place, clearing his throat.

"Alright, alright," Gojo muttered, scratching the back of his head. "Don’t get all formal on me now. You’re such a goody two shoes"

Now it was Kugutsu’s turn to frown. Was that meant to be an insult? Not only was it weak in comparison to his usual antics but why would following the rules ever be used to insult someone? That's what they were there for. 

"Next time you have a training session with Suguru I’ll tag along. Maybe help you out if it's worth my time." Gojo continued.

"...Alright." 

"In the meantime, focus on trying to figure out that ‘control’ part of your control ability, eh? It's a little Half-baked.""

Kugutsu clenched her jaw, holding back the sharp retort that was itching to come out. His words were blunt, and though she knew he meant well, they felt more like a challenge than advice.

"Half-baked, huh?" she said, her voice tight.

Gojo didn’t seem bothered by her frustration at all. He simply shrugged, crossing his arms with his usual air of indifference. "That’s why I’m here to help, right? You keep at it, and maybe you’ll actually figure it out. Hell, I’m kind of curious if you’ll make it work."

Kugutsu narrowed her eyes. Was he trying to bait her? Was he that obvious? Of course he was.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" she said, her annoyance now mixing with a begrudging sense of respect. As much as she hated to admit it, she couldn’t deny that Gojo had more experience, more understanding of his abilities, and that might be exactly what she needed to bridge the gap between her current self and her potential.

"See you then, Sone." Gojo grinned and disappeared out the door just as quickly as he came. 

The third time there was a knock at the door, Kugutsu wanted to scream. Everytime she was about to fall asleep she became the most popular girl in town. The knock was soft, almost tentative. With a reluctant sigh, she pushed herself to her feet, wincing at the strain on her muscles. Her mind raced through possibilities before she opened the door. But when she saw who was standing there, her heart skipped a beat.

It was Nanami. A smile tugged at her expression.

"Hey," he said, his voice softer than usual. "How are you holding up?"

Kugutsu blinked, caught off guard by his presence. "I… I’m alright. A little sore, but I’ll live."

Nanami’s eyes swept over her, and she could almost feel the weight of his gaze on her injuries. He said nothing at first, but his quiet presence felt different from the others who had visited. He wasn’t pushing her to improve or giving her grand advice. He was just there.

"I brought you some tea," he said, handing her a small thermos. "Figured you might need something soothing."

Kugutsu blinked at the unexpected kindness, then gave him a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks."

He nodded, taking a step back as if not wanting to impose too much. "I’ll let you rest then"

"No, Nanami," Kugutsu began, in a way that surprised even herself. "Would you mind staying with me for a while? I could use the company." 

Nanami hesitated before nodding. As the hours passed, Kugutsu felt a kind of warmth settle over her. Nanami’s presence was calming in a way she hadn’t expected. He wasn’t pushing her, demanding anything of her, just there. His quiet demeanor created a comfortable atmosphere where Kugutsu could forget about cursed energy, about missions. Their conversation did start there, familiarity of their work driving them to talk about what had happened only a week before. Eventually though that "work-talk" devolved. 

At some point, they had shifted to lighter topics. Nanami had a surprising knowledge of obscure movies, and his dry humor made Kugutsu laugh more than once. When they spoke of their favorite drinks, it was like the entire world outside her small dorm room had faded away. The conversation didn’t demand anything from her, didn’t push her to be anything more than she was in that moment. She didn’t have to be an up-and-coming sorcerer or a capable teammate. For once, she could just be Kugutsu, enjoying the simplicity of good company. Good company was hard to come by.

Chapter Text

Gojo stuck to his promise. Next time Geto and Kugutsu were set to train, there he was. Notably without his usual sunglasses adorning his face. It was honestly a little creepy how they followed her- like those videos of Monalisa. Every movement she made, every breath she took, he was right there.

Training went mostly like it usually did. Geto trying to beat her up while asking questions, Kugutsu trying not to get beat up while answering. It went a little slower than usual, her injuries were not fully healed just yet. It was weird to know Gojo was watching them like some kind of creep but if he had any comments he kept them mostly to himself just watching them go about their typical business.  She could live with that. 

After their brief spar came the new part. Testing theories. The first was the most obvious, trying to replicate what she had done to Geto during the mission. Geto summoned a small curse spirit, a bulbous little thing with four heads and wings. It settled nicely in Kugutsu’s hands.

"Finally getting to the fun part I see. Gosh I thought you were gonna take forever." Gojo strolled forward, sitting on the grass next to his friend. His eyes trained on the small creature.

Geto smirked at Gojo’s comment but didn’t respond, letting the situation speak for itself.

"I think the first thing to do is see if we can replicate… whatever it was that you did back at the mall." 

Kugutsu nodded, getting to work. It was certainly a lot simpler now that she didn’t have a strange mannequin creature trying to kill her and her friend. She concentrated on the small little creature's energy, shifting through it to find Geto’s. She identified the ridges, the flaws, the weak points and molded her own cursed energy to reinforce his. Before long, Geto’s body was dusted in a light shimmering of his own cursed energy, enhanced by hers. Geto rolled his shoulders, stretching his neck. 

"I got to admit this is nice." His eyes were wide. 

Gojo whistled, long and low. "Your cursed energy looks like Play-Doh when you’re doing that."

"Thanks?" Kugutsu replied, focusing on maintaining the effect. It was causing her considerable strain, but not as much as when she did it to Geto directly. It seemed like having some kind of buffer made the difference between their power less unmanageable.

"It’s not as strong though," Gojo continued, his blue eyes flashing. "As when you do it directly on the source."

As Kugutsu concentrated she noticed what he was saying was true. Geto’s cursed energy was still elevated and enhanced but the effect wasn’t as drastic as when she touched Nanami for example. 

Kugutsu sighed, biting her lip as she worked to keep the flow steady. The strain was starting to take its toll, but the more she practiced, the more she realized the potential. If she could learn to sustain this, the possibilities for her cursed energy could be incredible.

"Could you do me a favor, Gojo?"

The boy grinned "Depends, I don't go around doing favors for nobodies."

"Could you fight Geto for me? Just for a bit. I want to see how long this lasts while he's expending energy. I just need to test it."

Gojo grinned "Sure, I can fight for a bit." He turned to look at Geto "Loser buys the winner dinner, yeah?"

Geto raised an eyebrow, a snake-like smirk crossing his face "So long as you stick to it when you lose, Satoru."

"Let’s see how long your little energy boost can last under pressure, Suguru."

In that moment, Kugutsu felt deep down like she was an outsider to their antics. And that was okay, she didn’t expect to be treated any differently; however, there was something to be said about how easily she slid into the background not long after. She hoped one day she could have something like this. Two people utterly devoted to the other at all times, balancing each other. 

As the two began to fight, Kugutsu concentrated on her half of the deal. There was certainly a learning curve to it all. It was easy to adapt and keep energy steady, but in a fight a person’s cursed energy was anything but. It rose and fell and shifted as a fighter blocked, parried and attacked. It took a lot of concentration to not only understand what Geto’s next move was, but adapt her energy to fit in with his. When it worked, the effect was palpable, even devastating. But when it didn’t? Geto’s cursed energy would be less efficient if he had just been fighting naturally.

Gojo’s voice broke through the noise, his voice sharp with a teasing edge. "That’s cute, but you’re already starting to lose it. You’re a little too late on that block."

She shook her head trying to ignore Gojo’s words. Maybe it wasn’t about predicting? Maybe she should focus on just going with whatever Geto’s energy naturally did? She closed her eyes, focusing on the feeling of the Geto’s cursed energy like the waves of an ocean. When he pushed, she pulled, when he pulled she pushed. It was a big strain and she wouldn’t be able to do it for much longer but something was working.

A thud beside her broke her concentration. She jumped.

"Shit! That one really hurt, dude," Gojo’s voice rang out. She blinked in surprise, looking at him. He was lying on his back, staring up at Geto, incredulous.

"What? You expected me to hold back?" Geto replied. He noticed the energy fade from him, directing his attention to Kugutsu "You alright?"

"Yeah. How was that?"

"A bit of touch and go at the start. A little disorienting really. The end was good though. Whatever that was, was good." 

Kugutsu nodded, her brain racing. The fact that something that was supposed to be helpful was causing Geto to become a worse fighter wasn’t exactly a good sign. Perhaps she was better off doing what she did with Nanami, where she’d help right before the strike rather than trying to maintain it throughout the entire fight. But… she frowned at that thought. If she could learn to do it throughout the entire fight, she could be far more useful.

The risk of making a fighter worse off because she was there was simply too great. She was supposed to help them become better versions of themselves, not sabotage their cursed energy.

Gojo leaned over her "Earth to Play-Doh? You in there? Been staring off into space for like a whole day." He waved his hand in front of her face, disorienting her for a moment. An idea clicked.

"Sorry I was just thinking."

"Don’t strain yourself."

"Gojo, Geto, would you mind doing it again?"

"Again?" Geto asked, his tone skeptical. "What are you hoping to learn? Just hitting against a wall doesn’t seem like a useful strategy."

"Please."

"Whatever, sure. We didn’t really finish our spar, did we?" Gojo grinned, ready to walk away before Kugutsu stopped him.

"Gojo, could I tell you something real quick?"

"Uh… sure?"

Gojo leaned down for Kugutsu to whisper in his ear. The laugh that bubbled in his chest was maniacal.

"Alright, whatever you say Play-Doh." He walked in front of Geto ready to strike.

Geto looked between the two brows furrowed. "Are you not going to activate your technique before the fight, Kugutsu?"

"No, I’m trying something new. Fight normally, don't even think about me."

Geto’s suspicion was evident on his face, but it was quickly replaced by concentration when Gojo sped at him, trying to land a quick punch. The two continued to spar, their cursed energy ebbing and flowing in the rhythm of combat.

Kugutsu looked at the small cursed spirit in her hands, her gaze hardening as she activated her technique again. If her cursed technique was going to cause problems, then she would make them useful. She focused, a brief light shimmering over Geto's body as she reached out with her own cursed energy.

This time, though, she wasn’t aiding him- she was fighting against him every step of the way. When Geto rushed cursed energy into an area to block, Kugutsu struck, pulling it away, stripping his defenses. He raised his arm to intercept a blow, but his energy faltered, dissipating into thin air. The lack of energy in his guard left him vulnerable, a fraction of a second too long to respond.

When Geto punched, Kugutsu’s focus shifted. His cursed energy surged forward, but instead of reinforcing his attack, it flooded towards his backfoot, throwing off his balance. His entire stance shifted, the power behind the punch weakening, his body thrown off-center as his energy failed to distribute properly.

Geto’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of confusion in his expression as he adjusted mid-punch. But it was already too late. His strike went wide, missing its target by a hair’s breadth.

"What the hell are you doing?" Geto grunted, frustration creeping into his voice as he tried to correct himself.

Gojo laughed, watching as opening after opening formed on his dear friend. "You alright, Suguru? You slow?"

Geto’s gaze shifted between his best friend and Kugutsu, the dots connecting in his head. He quickly adjusted, a smirk forming as he fought back against her subtle manipulation. He rushed forward again, unleashing a flurry of punches and kicks, his cursed energy shifting and fluctuating wildly as he tried to account for the strange disruption in his flow.

Kugutsu could feel it. It was harder this time, the strain almost unbearable as she maintained her manipulation. She could feel his cursed energy coursing through him like a storm, each blow he threw trying to force his energy back into place, but every time he did, she was there, pulling it away or redirecting it.

It was like trying to steer a river with her hands- intense and draining. The pressure built, and for a moment, Kugutsu thought she might break concentration, but she gritted her teeth and fought through the fatigue.

She had his energy exactly where she wanted it- fragmented, misdirected, and unreliable. Her technique was working, but it wasn’t without its cost. She was pushing her own cursed energy harder than ever before, her body protesting the effort. Each shift, each redirection of Geto’s cursed energy, pulled her own strength thinner, like a stretched rubber band on the verge of snapping. Finally the pressure was too much and she dropped the small curse, the effect dropping from Geto.

"Alright, that’s enough. He’s starting to look like a confused toddler." Gojo smirked.

"That was infuriating to deal with, Sone." Geto remarked dryly. 

Kugutsu struggled to catch her breath. Her hands stung, her cursed energy weakened after a direct fight with the much more powerful Geto. Despite it all, a sense of pride filled her core. There was a lot more she needed. A lot more testing, training, and hard work. But this was a viable strategy. She had direction. 

Gojo stood surprisingly silent for a long time. Inspecting her and then Geto with his Six Eyes . It was… again really invasive. Like he could see the secrets she didn't even know she was hiding. He was inspecting her. Something about her was making the gears in his head turn and honestly she would rather they didn’t.

After a good few minutes, a little lost as to what to do she looked at her two upperclassmen and bowed. "Thank you again"

"I told you you didn’t need to do that." Geto remarked dryly.

Gojo still remained awfully quiet.

Kugutsu straightened up, rubbing her hands together to ease the lingering ache in her muscles. The air felt thick with unspoken words, and she couldn’t help but feel that tension- the weight of Gojo's unblinking gaze, the silent analysis he was conducting. He had always been like that, intense in his observations, like he was seeing something others couldn’t. But today? She felt even more exposed under that scrutiny.

Gojo, ever the enigma, was still quiet, his face an unreadable mask. A flicker of something crossed his face, though it was gone before she could place it.

"Gojo?" She finally asked, a touch of unease creeping into her voice. 

He blinked, his expression shifting into something far more playful, that signature grin slowly spreading across his face. "Huh? Nothing. I’m just thinking about what I should get for dinner tonight. Maybe sushi." He shrugged as if it was the most casual thought in the world, his tone light as air.

Kugutsu stared at him, narrowing her eyes. There was no way he wasn’t analyzing something deeper. But maybe it was better not to press him further. Gojo rarely gave direct answers anyway. She turned her attention to Geto, who was still rubbing the back of his neck, clearly recovering from the odd sensation of having his cursed energy pulled apart.

"Geto, I have to apologize." She bowed again not really knowing what else to do. "I know that was invasive and I probably should have warned you but I wanted your genuine reaction."

"No," Geto cut her off, his tone firm. "What you did wasn’t just invasive.’ It was a damn nightmare." He smirked though, the usual sarcasm creeping in despite his frustration. 

"So… not good?"

Geto let out a low sigh, rubbing his jaw as if considering his response carefully. "It’s not that. It’s... I get why you're doing it. You’re not just throwing a wrench in my energy flow, you’re throwing off the entire rhythm. It’s like trying to walk while someone keeps pulling the ground out from under you."

He had a point, Kugutsu thought. She had been thinking her cursed technique was all about helping others but it was about control. Controlling someone's cursed technique, for good and… apparently for bad. If she had known being bad would be so useful she would have started doing this ages ago.

"I don’t know if I can keep it going in the middle of an actual fight," she muttered. "Having to keep contact with the source makes things hard even if it's effective."

Gojo stood up from where he had been lounging, stretching with exaggerated motions. "Well, I’m impressed you even managed to do what you did. I really wasn’t expecting much, I mean your cursed energy seems pretty weak on the surface. Play-Doh is interesting though."

Kugutsu glanced at him, narrowing her eyes. "You’re already annoying me, you know that?"

Gojo shrugged, arm wrapping around Geto’s shoulder with a grin. 

"So you are definitely buying dinner, right?"

"I don’t think it counts if I was getting actively sabotaged, does it?"

"A win is a win, Suguru."

Their banter continued as they walked off. They had done what they needed to, Kugutsu gathered. They had tested the theories and that was that. Back they went to their perfect world of being the strongest sorcerer duo in the world. If anything Kugutsu was honored they would take the time to help her explore her options. That was fine by her. She didn’t need to be the strongest, just of some use. With that she would be content to play her role.

Chapter Text

"Suguru was a great classmate. I wouldn't have made it this far if it weren't for him. I’m sure you wouldn’t have either though."

Kugutsu paced around her house trying to get feeling back into her fingers. She had spent the last hour putting everything she had into this stupid magic box, and gotten very little out of it other than a volatile cursed energy signature and numb fingers. Well, that's not entirely true. She was understanding the box more and more with each passing minute. Familiarity is the key to her cursed technique. The longer she studies the more she can do. The more she can feel.

"I almost died during that stupid mission. I was so eager to please. You know the worst part, damsel? I spent a majority of the time thinking: maybe those skyscrapers will see the hardworking ant someday. Maybe Gojo will recognize my potential." Kugutsu’s face turned sour. "Or just stop interacting with me all together."

She was such a baby back then. Though it's only natural she would be. She was a kid, a child barely fifteen. Thrust into a world she could not comprehend. Thrust from a world that did not prepare her for any of this. Her mother and father were quite the traditionalists. They instilled in her every single meaning of that word. To follow traditions means to follow what is said. To follow traditions means to recognize patterns and follow them. To color inside the lines meant safety. It meant predictability, a life with boundaries that made sense, a structure she could lean on when everything else fell apart. 

Her fingers twitched, the pins and needles sensation slowly giving way to dull aches. Kugutsu clenched her hands into fists, trying to force blood and life back into them. The box sat quietly on the table, its strange, watchful eyes as unnerving as ever. She hated how alive it seemed, like it was mocking her struggle.

Her own reflection, faint in the polished surface of the table, caught her attention. The cracked white mask with red designs that covered the upper half of her face, the exhaustion in her bloodshot eyes. Her shaved head covered in blood and gore... what a pitiful sight.

"I envied Geto a lot back then, still do in a way."

She remembered those days at Jujutsu High with an almost painful clarity. Geto’s resolve, Gojo’s unstoppable power, and her… what? What had she been to them? The dependable one? The one who followed orders, who stuck to the plan?

"That’s the thing about ants, you know," she muttered, pacing again. "They don’t get to dream of skyscrapers. They’re too busy building them for everyone else."

Her voice wavered slightly as the words settled in the air. Kugutsu’s eyes flicked back to the box, narrowing.

"You’d probably laugh if you could hear me right now, wouldn’t you?" she said, her tone biting. "All this soul-searching while you’re sitting pretty in there. It’s always been easy for you. You were born at the top. No rules, no lines, no boundaries. You made your own and dared everyone to cross them."

She paused, a sweet smile lingered on her face. 

"That's not true, though. I know it's not. It’s just hard to look at it from the outside and see how hard it must have been. I’m sorry for that. Don’t know if I ever said it to you but I should have. Even if you were a dick. I could never replace him. I know, I know..."

Her hand reached for the edge of the table, steadying herself as a wave of exhaustion washed over her. The energy she’d spent trying to unravel the box had taken its toll, but she wasn’t done. Not yet.

"You might be the strongest, Satoru, but I’m not going to let you have the last laugh. Not this time." She pushed herself upright, ignoring the screaming protests of her body. "You’re coming out of there, whether you like it or not. And when you do, you’re going to owe me more than just a thank-you."

Kugutsu sat down again, her movements deliberate and methodical. She placed her hands on the box, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns she had come to know so intimately. The energy thrummed beneath her touch, faint but steady, like the heartbeat of something ancient and terrible.

"You don’t get to talk a big game about being the strongest and then go on vacation."

The box pulsed faintly under her touch, its response almost defiant, as if Gojo himself were smirking from inside. Kugutsu’s lips pressed into a thin line. She wasn’t sure if the faint vibration was real or a trick of her overworked senses- her brain was certainly beyond the point of being fried- but it didn’t matter. She had a job to do, and no amount of stubborn cursed energy was going to stop her.

"You know, you’ve got a lot of nerve," she muttered, the edge in her voice sharpening. "Gallivanting off into whatever self-imposed exile this is while the rest of us deal with the mess you left behind. I can hear it now- ‘Just hold down the fort for me, Play-Doh!’" Her fingers tightened against the box’s smooth surface. "Well, screw that."

The patterns under her fingertips felt alive now, shifting subtly as she poured her cursed energy into the cube. The act was excruciating. Every cell in her body screamed for her to stop, to rest, to give up. But Kugutsu wasn’t a quitter. Not when it mattered.

"I don’t get the luxury of walking away," she continued, her voice low but firm. "I don’t get to bend the rules or make my own. That’s your thing, Satoru. And look where it got you. In a box, with me of all people trying to fish you out."

She let out a dry laugh, bitter and hollow. The cursed energy inside the box pushed back against her intrusion, a complex network of defenses designed to keep even the most skilled sorcerers at bay. But Kugutsu had always been good at finding cracks in armor, at sensing the tiny imperfections others missed.

Her cursed energy flared, surging forward in a controlled but unrelenting wave. She imagined it like a river carving through stone, patient and determined. The box resisted, its defenses shimmering like a web of glass threads, delicate but maddeningly intricate.

"You better hope this works, Satoru," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Because if it doesn’t, I’m going to have some very loud words with your stupid box-bound self. And don’t think I won’t figure out how to yell at you in there."

The box vibrated sharply, sending a jolt up her arms. Kugutsu gasped, her vision swimming for a moment. But when she steadied herself, she saw it- a faint flicker, a tiny ripple in the cursed energy’s perfect symmetry. A weakness.

"There you are," she whispered, a small, triumphant smile tugging at her lips. "Now we’re getting somewhere."

With renewed determination, she leaned into the task, her cursed energy threading into the gap like water into a crack. It was delicate work, requiring every ounce of focus and precision she could muster. But Kugutsu had never been one to back down from a challenge. Especially not one that involved proving Satoru Gojo wrong.

It wasn’t the first time she had surged her energy into a magical relic, she thought bitterly. It's just unfortunate that this one wasn’t as fragile. 

Chapter Text

Kugutsu Sone was thrilled when she was approached for her first solo mission. As a first year it was rare to be able to go off on her own accord, but apparently her cursed technique and her ability to see cursed energy signals better than anyone (barring maybe Gojo’s weird eyes) made her the ideal candidate for this mission.

She sat stiffly in Yaga-sensei’s office, her back straight as a board and her hands resting awkwardly on her lap. A few of his cursed corpses shuffled around the room, performing mundane tasks with eerie precision. He was going to become principal soon, so the little creatures were organizing in preparation. She tried not to stare at them, but her gaze inevitably drifted to the curious interplay of their cursed energy signals. The way Yaga’s energy intertwined with theirs was unlike anything she’d seen before- distinct, yet tethered. Different from Geto’s cursed spirit manipulation, but just as fascinating.

Forcing her gaze away from the interesting cursed energy residuals, she focused back on the dossier before her. She traced the intricate patterns etched into the sketched artifact, the Shintai Conduit . Her fingers lingered on the image, it was a small unassuming cursed tool composed of two bracelets connected by a long silver chain adorned with talismans.

"This mission is more than retrieval," Yaga-sensei said, his tone leaving no doubt to the importance of his words. "The Shintai Conduit is a cornerstone of the Kamo clan’s legacy. Its power to merge two cursed energy signals into one is critical. And right now, it’s essential."

Kugutsu glanced up, curiosity flickering across her face. "Why now?"

"Tengen’s transition is approaching. Within the next few months, the Star Plasma Vessel will need to merge with Master Tengen to stabilize their form and maintain the barriers that protect our school. Without the Shintai Conduit, that process could become unstable- potentially catastrophic."

The weight of the words settled heavily on her shoulders. She had known this mission was important, but hearing it tied directly to Master Tengen made it feel monumental.

"I understand." 

Yaga nodded, though his expression remained grave. "There’s one more thing. You’ll have an escort for this mission. A representative from the Kamo clan. Their presence is non-negotiable."

Kugutsu tilted her head slightly, confused. "An escort? I thought this was supposed to be a solo mission."

"It is," Yaga clarified, sitting back in his chair. "But the Kamo clan doesn’t allow non-clan members to handle their sacred relics unsupervised. The Shintai Conduit is deeply intertwined with their heritage. They’re protective of it, and frankly, we need their cooperation."

Her brow furrowed. "So… they’re monitoring me."

"In a sense," Yaga admitted. "But their involvement is practical, too. Without their representative, you won’t be able to accomplish the mission in the first place. The Kamo clan is very protective of its tools."

Kugutsu nodded slowly, though a flicker of irritation crossed her face. She was trusted enough to lead the mission, but not enough to handle the artifact alone. Still, she reminded herself, this was bigger than her personal pride.

"Who’s the escort?" she asked, carefully keeping her tone neutral.

"Kamo Hajime," Yaga replied, glancing briefly at a file on his desk. "He’s skilled, and he is compatible with the Conduit. But be prepared he’s…traditional. I expect you to navigate this partnership with professionalism, Sone."

"Understood," she said, standing up and bowing respectfully.

Yaga handed her the dossier, his expression softening slightly. "This is an important mission, Kugutsu. I chose you because I believe you’re capable. Don’t let me down."

Kugutsu felt a sudden warmth flood her chest. Expectations could be frightening sure, but validation felt even better than fear. The roadmap for this mission was clear-cut. She was grateful. She clutched the dossier tighter, drawing strength from its weight. 

It did not take her long to pack her things. It took even less time to reach the front of the school where she would meet her escort- or supervisor? It wasn’t clear. She had asked around about what exactly the Kamo clan expected of her. She wasn’t familiar with all the clan’s games. 

Gojo’s words echoed in her mind, spoken in his usual irreverent tone: "The Kamo clan? Bunch of traditionalist fossils. They’ve been clinging to their rules and hierarchy for so long, they’ve fossilized themselves in their own egos. But play their game, and you’ll win every time. Just… don’t expect them to say thank you."

It had been a flippant remark, the kind Gojo often made, but she couldn’t help but hold onto it. It wasn’t just an insult; it was advice wrapped in his usual bravado. 

The Kamo man was already waiting when she arrived, his arms crossed and his expression stern. His presence was everything she’d been told to expect from the infamous clan: an air of superiority wrapped in tradition and pride. He wore traditional robes, a sword tucked away at his side. His look, as far as Kugutsu was aware, was everything one would expect from a clan member.

"Kamo Hajime," he introduced himself, his sharp eyes scanning her from head to toe. "So, you’re the sorcerer Tokyo chose for this mission. I assume you know the stakes."

Kugutsu bowed deeply, lowering herself into the kind of humility she had practiced countless times. "I understand completely, Kamo-sama. I’m here to assist and ensure the success of this mission."

Hajime raised an eyebrow, surprised by her immediate submission. He had expected resistance or, at the very least, an air of defiance. Most non-clan members tended to bristle under the weight of Kamo traditions.

"Hmph. At least you know your place," he said, though there was a note of intrigue in his voice. "Yaga chose you because of your cursed technique, I assume. Still, this isn’t a job to be taken lightly. The Shintai Conduit is sacred to my clan. You’ll only be allowed to touch it under my supervision, and only if absolutely necessary. Understood?"

"Yes, Kamo-sama," Kugutsu said without hesitation, her tone perfectly respectful.

The corners of Hajime’s mouth twitched in what might have been a smirk. "A disciplined woman. That’s rare these days." He gestured for her to follow. "Let’s move. We have a long journey ahead."

Kugutsu didn’t exactly like the tone in which he spoke to her. It was demeaning in a way that made her head spin. Yet, it was easy to understand what was expected of her. Traditionalists were a bit much, some of their thoughts antiquated even for her standards, but it was clear what everyone's role was. There was no guessing where you stood or how you should respond. It was clear cut. Simple

As they walked, Kugutsu remained a step behind him, her posture impeccable. The Kamo clan thrived on hierarchy, on respect paid to authority. If that’s what it took to ensure the mission’s success, she was the best person for the job.

Hajime glanced back at her once or twice during the walk, clearly testing her resolve. Each time, she met his gaze briefly before lowering her eyes in deference.

"You’re an interesting one," he said finally. "Most sorcerers your age don’t know when to shut their mouths. They think they know better."

"I only wish to fulfill my duties to the best of my ability," Kugutsu replied evenly.

This was honestly easy. This man was predictable. It was easier to talk to him than it was to talk to someone like Gojo. Gojo was brash, darting past structure and crushing it beneath his foot. She never knew where she stood with him. With Kamo it was clear. She was a tool to be used, perhaps an unfortunate requirement of the mission. Rude, and dismissive. But direct. She was compliant. That was fine for her.

The long journey so far had been uneventful, aside from the occasional terse exchange between Kugutsu and Kamo Hajime. She had expected as much. There was something almost comforting in the predictability of their interactions. He was a man of few words, and those words were almost always laced with thinly veiled condescension. It was easy to read between the lines, and she couldn’t help but appreciate that. 

The air grew colder as they neared their destination, the natural landscape shifting from dense forest to cold wintery mountaintops, far away from any populated areas. The silence between them felt heavy now, the only sounds being the crunch of gravel beneath their feet and the occasional gust of wind whipping through the trees. 

Kugutsu had trained to observe and understand the world around her. The further they walked, the more she focused on the cursed energy signatures in the area. The stillness of the environment was at odds with the powerful, yet dormant presence she could sense. This place had a deep energy to it, one that felt as if it had been lying in wait for centuries. Something was missing though.

"Kamo-sama," Kugutsu said, breaking the silence as they walked toward the dense underbrush. She could feel it now, the subtle hum of cursed energy beneath her feet, but it was faint, scattered. Her usual method of tracking cursed energy wouldn’t be enough here. She needed something more.

Hajime glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"I can feel traces of old cursed energy," she explained, "it's in the area but I’ll need a more… direct approach."

Hajime stared at her unblinking, waiting for a response.

"You’re cursed energy is compatible with the cursed tool, yes? If I were to familiarize myself with your energy I might have an easier time finding the item, Kamo-sama."

Hajime stared at her for a while. In a way that told her that he was considering how much he wanted to loosen the rope around this unknown sorcerer. Kugutsu bowed, hoping that somehow such a simple act would sway him. She remained still, her hands tucked behind her back, her posture a careful balance of humility and confidence. She knew this was as much about earning his trust as it was about the mission itself. 

"Go ahead," Hajime began. "If this interferes with the mission in any way it will be your head."

Kugutsu nodded respectfully, not missing the weight of his words. She had no intention of failing, though did anyone? Without waiting for further objection, she extended her hand, palm open, toward Hajime. For a long moment, Hajime didn’t move, his eyes never leaving her. Then, with the smallest of movements, he extended his arm, placing her hand, almost begrudgingly, on his forearm. She met his touch, feeling the small, controlled shift in his muscles, the brief but undeniable flinch as if he was not used to anyone invading his space, even in such a seemingly innocent way. Like some kind of wounded animal.

"I apologize for the intrusion." She remarked, closing her eyes.

She extended her own cursed energy carefully. The moment her energy brushed against his, it was like an invisible string had been pulled taut between them. She used that thread like a spyglass, scanning the surrounding area for something that matched, no matter how faint. Without letting go of his arm she began to walk, concentrating all of her energy into tracing the whisper of connection between the Kamo and his artifact. 

Eventually, they arrived at the edge of a cliff overlooking a secluded valley. Nestled between the peaks of two jagged mountains stood a small, otherwise unassuming structure. It was old, its stone walls cracked and weathered, but it emanated an unmistakable aura of ancient power. 

"This is the place," Kugutsu said, his voice cutting through the stillness. 

"The Shintai Conduit is most likely sealed inside" Hajime remarked, quickly removing his hand from hers breaking the connection. "The Kamo clan has kept it hidden for generations. You’ll find no other relic like it."

The two wasted no time, they scaled down the mountain quietly until they reached the doors of this strange structure. Kugutsu realized with an almost morbidly perceptive gaze that the Kamo man had gone through extra effort to keep more distance between them than before. He had evidently not enjoyed the feeling of having his cursed energy tampered with. Not that she could necessarily blame him for that.

The door to the structure was large and imposing. There was no door, or lock to be seen. Only a large carving of the Kamo clan symbol surrounded by talismans. Kugutsu studied the door, her gaze narrowing. There were faint traces, but she could see flecks of blood surrounding the door. Not fresh, but not ancient. 

Hajime stepped forward, his usual stoicism unshaken. He approached the door with an almost reverent calmness, his eyes fixed on the symbol. Without a word, he pulled a ceremonial knife from his belt -its edge still gleaming-and raised it to his palm. Kugutsu couldn’t help but watch, her eyes flicking between the knife and Hajime’s expression, which had turned colder than she’d seen it before.

"Kamo-sama?"

He didn’t look at her, his focus solely on the symbol. "Only the blood of the Kamo can activate the seal. It is the key and the lock, such is the fate of our bloodline." His hand hovered over his palm, and with a swift motion, he cut across it.

The blood flowed freely, dark crimson dripping onto the stone beneath his hand. The moment it made contact with the talismans around the symbol, the air seemed to crackle with energy. The faint glow of the Kamo crest flared, and the talismans shimmered before burning away into nothingness. The massive stone door groaned, its deep rumbling vibrations sending a ripple through the ground.

The door was opening.

Kugutsu stepped back, the pull of energy in the air intensifying as the seal lifted. The Conduit was no longer hidden. She could feel it, beckoning her with its potent energy.

Hajime turned, his gaze lingering on the door for a moment longer, as though bracing himself for what was to come. "We move quickly. It won't stay open for long."

The two rushed inside as soon as the door was wide enough for them to squeeze through. Before they could take even a few steps inside Kugutsu heard it, the sound of falling metal? Like someone was dropping coins. From the darkness within, a shadowy figure emerged. He had long dark purple hair falling past his shoulders. Clothed in a white uniform, his face was obscured by a mask. The most defining characteristic was a white hat adorned with a single Q.

"Q…" Hajime muttered under his breath, his eyes flashing with recognition. "They’ve found us."

"Q?" Kugutsu remarked, settling into a defensive position.

"Curse users against Master Tengen’s rightful transformation."

The air grew heavy with tension. Suddenly, the soft clink of metal rang out, followed by a series of sharp, whistling sounds. Kugutsu barely had time to react before several throwing daggers sliced through the air toward her with blistering speed. The daggers shimmered, twisted mid-flight like living serpents, their trajectories shifting in impossible arcs as they homed in on their target.

The figure tilted their head slightly, their voice cold and emotionless. "You did well to avoid my first attack but I am afraid you’re too late. The Shintai Conduit will not be used by Tengen."

Kugutsu grit her teeth in frustration as her gaze shifted away from the man before them. Settling on the Shintai Conduit, resting unceremoniously on a stone slab. The once pristine tool, which had held so much potential, now looked disfigured and tainted. Five large nails, each crackling with malevolent cursed energy, had been driven deep into the talismans adorning the Conduit. The nails pulsed with dark power, and she could feel the very air thickening as the cursed energy spread, seeping into the Conduit and draining it. The tool that was the entire point of the mission… was going to be destroyed before they could even get to it. At a glance, Kugutsu surmised that the longer those nails were in the item the more likely that its effects would be permanent. 

The organization Q member took her distraction as an opportunity, sending another volley of knives towards her and Hajime. Hajime drew his sword, settling into a defensive position between the item and their opponent. With quick reflexes he parried each incoming blade with his own. 

"You fix whatever is happening. I’ll keep him off your back." Hajime jumped to action, closing the distance with a swift strike with his sword. 

Kugutsu’s mind raced as she watched the cursed energy surge and twist around the Shintai Conduit. Her fingers were itching to act, but she knew that she was treading unfamiliar territory. Kugutsu wasn’t sure what she should do with the item. She had never handled a cursed tool. She wasn’t entirely certain how her cursed technique would interact with this sacred relic of one of the big three clans. Regardless, she didn’t have much of an option. Ignoring the sounds of metal against metal behind her she got to work. 

Kugutsu’s hand trembled as she reached toward the first of the five nails lodged deep into the Shintai Conduit. The cursed energy thrumming around it was powerful, dark, and heavy. She could feel her connection to the cursed energy of the nails, but the deeper she tried to press her awareness into the cursed source, the more it fought back. It was like trying to grab hold of a moving target, her fingers brushing against the power, but unable to maintain a steady grip. Sweat beaded on her brow, her mind struggling to match the pace of the cursed energy as it twisted and coiled around the object. She wasn’t a surgeon, but Kugutsu would liken it to what she imagined operating on the brain of a living, currently conscious creature would be like. A delicate ordeal that balances doing what needs to be done and resisting the human writhing in pain beneath her.

The first nail came loose with a sharp crack, the cursed energy snapping away from the Conduit like a chain broken. Kugutsu’s breath escaped in a quiet rush of relief. She could feel the weight of the object lighten ever so slightly, but there was no time to savor it.

The second nail.

Her fingers hovered just above it. She could feel the oppressive energy that surrounded it, the resistance she would face if she continued. But she pressed on, knowing that there was no other way. She forced her cursed energy into the nail, trying to pull it free from the talisman. The object shuddered beneath her touch, the cursed energy pushing back violently.

But this time, the nail came out with less resistance than before, leaving the Shintai Conduit vibrating weakly, the power growing a little more stable with each nail freed.

Her heart raced as she looked to the third nail. The Conduit felt fragile now, its cursed energy still there but weakening. She couldn’t let her focus waver. 

She moved quickly, her fingers tingling as she met the nail. It was embedded deeper into the talisman than the others, but Kugutsu was determined. She pushed her energy into it, steadily, carefully, hoping to pry it free without further damage. She could feel it yielding- slowly, agonizingly slowly, but it came free with a distinct snap, and a wave of cursed energy that rushed through her like a tidal wave. 

Each time she encountered a nail she felt it, the forcible pull of her own cursed energy. Kugutsu could feel them sapping her own energy as she worked. They were built to drain cursed energy until nothing was left. 

The battle behind her raged on, but she did not dare look. Clanging of metal and grunts of effort was all she was willing to acknowledge. This needed her undivided attention. She had to focus. She had to focus now.

Her body screamed in exhaustion, her limbs feeling heavy and stiff as though her very essence had been drained. She had never expended this much energy before. Her cursed technique required precision, and the longer she tried to manipulate the cursed energy, the more it wore on her mind. The fourth nail was just within reach, but her fingers were slipping. She couldn’t hold on. Her vision blurred, the world around her spinning.

The nail responded to her will, and with a jagged crack, it broke loose, disintegrating into cursed dust that scattered like fallen leaves. But the moment it did, Kugutsu felt something was wrong . The Shintai Conduit, destabilized by the loss of the nails, shuddered violently. The cursed energy surged out of control, spiraling like a storm in the cavernous space, and the last remaining nail seemed to resonate with a force far beyond her ability to handle.

"You better know what you’re doing, woman." Hajime’s voice rang out between the grunts and strains of battle.

The final nail was stubborn. A last remnant pulling at her cursed energy like a man starved. It swallowed her greedily, destabilizing her entirely. She would need a lot of energy to destabilize this nail while also preserving the Conduit. It would need precision she did not know if she could muster. The perfect balance between overwhelming balance and calculated control. 

A control Kugutsu did not have.

She overcompensated for her draining energy reserves, breaking the perfect balance she had maintained so far. The nail cracked in half, its effects negated. But the Conduit was not left unscathed. Its talismans burned under her cursed energy, disintegrating under her fingertips. It’s chain cracked, splitting the item in twain. The remnants of her cursed energy dancing mockingly around the now useless item.

The room was silent. Everyone observing the shattered remains of her failure. She felt hollow. Kugutsu lifted her head, her face pale, her breath shallow. She made eye contact with their enemy who immediately dropped his guard. The man from Q wasn’t here for the Conduit anymore. She had done what he intended quicker. She had completed his goal for him.

"Mission complete." His voice was flat, almost bored, as he turned on his heel. Using the room’s collective shock and focus on the cursed tool to quickly make his exit.

Hajime stepped forward, his gaze sharp, cold, and unrelenting. He gripped her hair tightly, pulling her up to be eye level with him. 

"You had one job. Not only did you fail, you broke it yourself," He tugged at her hair again, anger clearly evident on his face. 

"I’m sorry I-"

"What a useless woman you are. What a pathetic excuse for a sorcerer. My clan will make your life a living hell, you mark my words. Wretched, miserable worm."

"Stop-" Kugutsu managed weakly, pathetically "-it hurts."

The man scoffed, throwing her limp body on the ground. Without another word he collected what remained of the once powerful artifact and went on his way. Abandoning her in the dark and cold. The ground beneath Kugutsu felt like it had become a void, an empty chasm that swallowed any remnants of pride or resolve. She lay there, her body aching, her limbs stiff from the physical toll and the weight of failure that now crushed her soul. She could feel the remnants of the Conduit’s cursed energy against her fingertips. A surge of pain against her otherwise hollow body.

With what little strength she had left, Kugutsu dragged herself into a sitting position, her hands resting against the cold stone floor. Her body screamed in protest, but she ignored it, focusing on the flickering remnants of the Conduit. Kugutsu’s breath hitched, but it wasn’t from pain anymore. It was from a different kind of weight. The weight of the silence that filled the space between her and the world now that everything had shattered. There was nothing left to do but face the consequences of her failure. And there was nothing she could do to undo it.

As the last traces of cursed energy dissipated from her hands, Kugutsu closed her eyes. She would have to face the music eventually. She knew her punishment would be severe. She had failed. And Jujutsu Society was worse off for having her.

Chapter Text

Kugutsu knelt at the center of what felt like an endless room, surrounded by the elders of Jujutsu Society. Each one hiding their face behind a shoji door. She was perfectly still, a beam of light, sourceless, highlighting her pitiful state. Her eyes refused to look, preferring instead to remain downcast, head bowed, showing as much deference as she was physically able.

"Kugutsu Sone," a voice she could not recognize, stated. "You stand accused of destroying a sacred artifact of immense importance both to the Kamo clan and to Tengen’s proper transfer into his new vessel. An act that could be called treasonous to the entirety of our society."

Kugutsu’s stiffened. Her failure laid out for all to see.

"The Kamo clan is asking for your immediate execution," the voice continued. "And I and many others are of a mind to agree. It is important to honor such requests from the pillars of our society."

Murmurs echoed across the chamber. 

She wondered, in the back of her mind, desperately trying to drown out the noise of people deciding her fate, if this is what all clans can do. The influence to call for someone’s death without a second glance. To not hold the sword themselves but rather order others to execute. Kamo, Zen’in and.. Of course the Gojo clan. 

But if Satoru Gojo wanted her dead, he would just… do it. The clans might resort to cheap tricks but he had the power in his hands. She couldn’t imagine him hiding murderous intent within a crowd- he was the type to flaunt it. Her head tilted upwards slightly, watching these shrouded figures through hair framing her face searching for his figure in the crowd of unseeable faces. Would he speak up for her given the chance? Was he even here? She knew he was important to his clan, but how much did he involve himself in things like this? 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a stern voice.

"If I may? I have personal experience with the situation at hand." Hajime Kamo walked forward, hand raised respectfully. "I may be able to shed some light on what exactly occurred."

Another voice, different from the first answered. "Go ahead, Kamo-sama."

"During the mission, I was under the impression that this woman’s cursed technique was cursed energy amplification. However, her ability to use it to not only amplify but identify cursed energy was a surprising benefit to encounter on the field."

Kugutsu’s heart thrummed against her chest. Hope seeped into her pores at his words. The last time she saw him he was understandably angry at her, but maybe–

"However, when I sent her to retrieve the Shintai Conduit, what developed was much different. While attempting to get it back, her cursed energy sparked violently, destroying the item rather than enhancing or acquiring it. It is my understanding that her actual abilities have been misreported. At best, it was a mistake, at worst she has lied maliciously to hide her true abilities. Possibly waiting for a moment to utilize them against us." 

Kugutsu’s heart dropped. She tried to catch his gaze but he refused to even glance at the mess on the ground. He looked forward, resolute. 

"It is my, and the Kamo clan's opinion that we should execute her on both charges," Hajime continued. "That is all." He bowed and slipped back into the shadows.

Kugutsu felt as though the room had frozen, the air thick with the weight of her fate hanging in the balance. Every word from Hajime Kamo sent ripples through her mind, and the finality of his proposal stung her more deeply than any physical wound ever could. 

"It is true that your cursed technique is simply on record as ‘Cursed Energy Amplification’ but what has been described by Kamo-sama and your peers is quite different." Another voice resounded across the room, space left expectantly for Kugutsu to answer.

Her mouth felt dry. "It– it is true that what is on my documents doesn’t align with my current abilities. But that's only because I didn’t understand the extent of–"

Another voice interrupted her. "It's settled then. She purposefully misled us. We can not replace the Shintai Circuit, the best we can do is execute the girl as recompense to the clan she has damaged."

Kugutsu felt bile rise in her throat. Her eyes wide in panic. She could not argue that they had no reason to trust her. She just wanted to be useful. She followed every rule, but still came up short. She wanted so desperately to be useful. She wanted to do good for Jujutsu Society, to be a line of defense against those who would harm them. Her parents’ voice echoed in the back of her mind. Parents who embodied what it meant to be disciplined. To find order. To bow your head towards your superiors. To know your place in the world and not expect anything more. She was happy with those ideals, she thrived in that setting. But she didn’t want to die. She had more to offer, she knew it.

"What if– what if I can make it up to you?" She spoke, a tremble in her voice she couldn’t quell.

The rooms murmuring stopped in an instant. Then chaos.

                                       "How dare she speak up?"

                                                           "How presumptuous to think she could ever make up for her transgressions."

         "What an insolent girl."

                                                                        "We should end her where she stands."

                                    "The Kamo clan is clear in their request."

The room shook with their voices. Kugutsu took a deep breath, trying to be heard above the noise.

"My technique– I can control cursed energy other than my own. I familiarized myself with the conduit before its destruction. I understand what it's supposed to do. Let– let me do it. I can serve as the conduit, I can help stabilize their cursed energies. If it’s possible for a cursed tool, surely a sorcerer with my technique could do the same. Please." Kugutsu was desperate, begging. A pitiful sight as tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.

"Impossible. There is no way you could do such a thing."

"Kill me if it doesn’t work then. You are going to kill me anyway right? If it works I have proven myself, otherwise then I’m worthless and I’ll deliver my head to the Kamo myself."

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Kugutsu’s words hung in the air, a raw plea that reverberated against the cold walls. It was as though time itself had paused, leaving her exposed and vulnerable, waiting for the inevitable judgment to descend upon her.

And yet, there was a flicker. A flicker in the midst of that unyielding tension- a pause in the murmurs and shuffling from the unseen elders. 

A deep, gravelly tone resonated from the shadows. "Kamo-sama, perhaps we should consider her offer. It’s true that we are at an impasse, and the Conduit has been destroyed. If she truly believes she can stabilize the energies... this is an opportunity, is it not?"

The others quieted, an odd ripple of uncertainty making its way through the assembly. Kugutsu’s heart pounded as she dared to hold onto that slim thread of hope. 

"You would trust her?" Another voice, colder and sharper than the first, cut through. "This is not a game, nor a trial of trust. We cannot afford such risks when our entire future hinges on the proper transfer of Tengen. What if she fails again? What if her control over cursed energy is unstable?"

"Then no harm has been done. The fact of the matter is we lost the Conduit. Having her as a second option is more agreeable than having nothing at all. The Kamo clan may have their demands, but we also must consider what is best for the society as a whole."

Kugutsu’s eyes flickered from shadow to shadow, searching desperately for any sign of agreement. She could feel the tension mounting, the invisible barrier of judgment pressing down on her like a vice. She was a pawn in a game too vast for her understanding. How could she let them know that she was more than happy to be any kind of piece they needed so long as she got to live. She wanted to live. 

"We are in agreement then. Kugutsu Sone, you will aid in Master Tengen’s transition with the Star Plasma Vessel. Failure to complete your duties will result in your execution. If you try to run you will be hunted for sport." The voice paused, ice cold. "Am I clear?"

"Yes."

"We appreciate your willingness to atone for your sins. Do not make us regret it. You are dismissed."

The room fell back into its oppressive silence as Kugutsu was released from her bonds. The shackles that had held her in place clattered to the ground with a hollow echo, and she stood, her body trembling with the weight of what had just transpired. She had narrowly escaped death, but the price for this reprieve would be more than her pride.

As she stepped away from the center of the chamber, her heart still hammered in her chest, but the sting of her humiliation remained sharp. She had been given a chance-fragile, tenuous, and suffused with the cruelest of expectations. She would walk the razor's edge from now on. She would either prove herself worthy of the second chance or be discarded as nothing more than a failure.

Kugutsu's thoughts, though turbulent, focused on two things now: survival and obedience. 

It took only a few days for Gojo to find  her. She had been purposefully secluding herself,  pushing herself to the brink trying to get ready for this plasma vessel thing she had gotten herself into. 

Honestly, her offer to serve as the conduit herself was a half baked plan. She had been desperate to live. But now that idea had to become real. She had to be able to follow through. Her orders were simple but the weight of it felt impossible. 

She thought about going to Yaga-sensei for help but the way he looked at her post her trial made her stomach twist. And as much as she appreciated and looked up to her teacher, what could he do to help her now? He had told her not to mess up and she did. He told her how important this mission was and yet she had failed. What could he do to stave off her execution order?

She had stopped hanging out with Nanami and Haibara outside of classes. She didn’t have time to be focused on anything but getting this thing right. They were sent on missions together, while she was left out. No doubt punishment from the higher-ups. Not that she didn't deserve it mind you. She certainly wouldn’t send someone she didn’t trust out on a mission. 

Her training with Geto had all but halted. He occasionally came by to check on her and she was appreciative of that, but their camaraderie had been replaced with an unspoken distance. Even his easy going demeanor couldn't completely mask the pity in his eyes. Kugutsu hated it. She hated being seen as broken, a liability, someone who had to be fixed. She wanted to be strong. To have the kind of strength that no one could doubt. She didn’t want his pity.

Her cursed energy fizzled out once more, the remnants of the Conduit still broken in her hands. She was trying to fix it, or just learn about its properties or… something useful but it was all dried up. The once-powerful tool, reduced to scraps, broken beyond repair. The night sky reflected off the previously ethereal metal, now dull in comparison.

"You still playing with toys?" Gojo’s voice rang through the clearing. His tone, casual and biting, grated against her already raw nerves. "Aren’t you a little old for that?"

Kugutsu huffed in annoyance. Great timing of course it was him. This was just great. Gojo strolled by, casually snatching the remnants of the cursed tool from her fingertips.

"You reeeally did a number on this thing huh."

"I don’t need your banter, Gojo."

"You know," Gojo continued, unimpeded, examining the Conduit like it was a broken trinket from a child’s toy box. "Word around the clans is that you’re gonna kill yourself trying to do this plasma star mumbo jumbo. One hell of a way of proving you’re weak."

Kugutsu’s anger flared, spiking beyond what she was capable of containing. 

"I’m not trying to kill myself, I’m trying to fix my mistake. Just doing what been asked of me" Her teeth ground against each other, struggling to hold her tongue.

"What are you? A good little dog?" Gojo said, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Do you bark, too?"

Her nails dug into her skin. He liked getting a reaction. Kugutsu understood that. He was trying to get under her skin. Why? What did he gain from tormenting her like this? She couldn’t say. Her frustration bubbled in her chest. She took a deep breath. This was her classmate. This was the most important sorcerer of their generation. She should not resort to violence when she knows she could not win. She should remain docile. She should calm down. She reminded herself who he was- Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer of their generation. Her peer. Her tormentor. And someone she couldn’t touch. 

Why was her fist currently making a beeline for his jaw? 

Her body moved without her control, slamming into the infinity between her and Satoru Gojo. Her eyes flared with unbridled rage. Kugutsu’s body shook, rage and frustration fueling every inch of her skin. Her chest heaved as her palms pressed against Gojo’s infinity. She felt his cursed energy swelling through her. The gap in their power was insurmountably large, her cursed energy stung. She didn’t care. 

 Gojo didn’t flinch as her palms collided with the invisible barrier of his Infinity. He stood there, casually holding the broken Conduit in one hand, his other hand tucked lazily into his pocket.

"Wow," he said, his tone amused but with an edge of something sharper, "you really are pissed off, huh? Never seen you so emotional before."

Kugutsu didn’t honor that asshole with a response. Her palms pulsing against his cursed energy, fighting for dominance. Dominance she would never get, but she was willing to put her everything into whipping that smug look off his face. His cursed energy thrummed under her fingers. Vast and powerful, suddenly and without warning she took hold of his cursed energy thrusting it away from his head. It didn’t react, not much. But it reacted just enough.

A gap. A tiny gap, only for a half a second, formed in his impenetrable barrier. Just enough for Kugutsu to reach a hand through Gojo’s infinity. Her fingertips just barely brushed against his collar before getting shunted back, left sprawling on the floor.

Gojo raised an eyebrow, watching her tumble to the ground with mild amusement. "Huh," he mused, tilting his head. 

Kugutsu’s body trembled with exertion. Her palms burned, her cursed energy feeling raw and stretched thin. Pain thrummed in every joint, but she refused to let it show. She refused to look away, glaring up at Gojo with fiery determination.

 "Shut up," she hissed, her voice hoarse. "I don't need your pity."

His grin remained, but his tone softened ever so slightly. There was something unsettling in the way his gaze lingered. It was not cruel, but too knowing, too sharp.

"Pity? Nah, this isn't pity. I'm impressed."

He may have said that but Kugutsu had never felt more looked down on. Sprawled on the ground, every ounce of her defiance looked insignificant compared to him. Him leaning down, looking down at her with his stupid Six Eyes . It made her sick to her stomach. 

He dangled the broken cursed tool over her forehead, its metall catching the dull moonlight. Kugutsu snatched it back a little too quickly, clutching it to her chest protectively. Maybe he did pity her, but could she fault him for it? 

"Fix the toy, become the toy, doesn’t matter to me." He spoke languidly, waving a hand dismissively. His voice carried a nonchalance that burned more than outright mockery ever could. "Just get stronger. Then you won't have to run around with your tail between your legs."

She wanted to rip those eyes out of his skull so he could never look at her like that. No- no she didn’t want that. Anger was not becoming of her. Kugutsu was about to retort when another voice made itself known.

"Satoru, what did you do?" 

Geto, hair released from his usual ponytail and carrying a bag of sweets, walked into the clearing. His expression was calm, but his gaze carried an unspoken question, as if he already knew the answer.

"Me?" Gojo asked, feigning innocence. "I just had a little chat with our favorite puppy on death row!"

He walked over to Geto, the previous tension forgotten. He rummaged through the bag of sweets before pulling out a brightly wrapped candy like he’d found treasure.

"She got through infinity! Just a little, not enough that it mattered but just a bit. You were right, Suguru, her technique is weird as hell." 

"Interesting." Geto muttered in thought. His gaze flickered over to Kugutsu for a moment. "Though maybe that should stay between us."

"I wasn’t planning on running my mouth about another one of my failures, Geto." Kuguru replied dryly, clutching the cursed tool even tighter to her chest- willing it to become a part of her.

"What I mean is, the higher ups already don't like you." He ran a hand through his hair. "Let's not give them more things to speculate about, hm?"

Gojo popped a piece of candy into his mouth, grinning around it as he spoke. "Relax, Suguru. They’d probably just make her their next pet project if they found out. ‘Oh look, someone else we can micromanage to death!’" His voice was mocking, but Kugutsu could feel the jab land all the same.

Kugutsu crossed her arms tightly, "I just want to do my job. That doesn’t mean I’m anyone’s toy."

"Then stop acting like one," Gojo shot back with a shrug. "The higher-ups think they own you because you let them."

Geto sighed, stepping in to diffuse the situation before it spiraled further. "Satoru, you’ve made your point."

Gojo raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Sayin’ it how I see it."

"’That doesn’t make it any better, Satoru." Geto said, his tone calm but firm. He turned back to Kugutsu, his expression softening. "I don’t look forward to your funeral, don’t have one too soon."

Kugutsu’s shoulders relaxed slightly, though her frustration still simmered beneath the surface. 

"Thanks," she muttered.

Geto looked at his friend, a teasing smile lighting his features. "Did she actually break through infinity? You getting soft?"

"As if. Just a lucky break from death row over here."  Gojo grinned, tossing another candy into his mouth and turning to Kugutsu. "Next time you try to punch me, I’d like it to actually count. If not then what's the point?"

"Next time I’ll punch your nose, pretty boy."

"You think I’m pretty?" Gojo replied, teasing.

"It's just the only description for you. You don’t have much else going for you."

Gojo clutched his chest in mock offense, his grin widening. "Ouch, Play-Doh. Right in the ego."

It was strange, this back and forth she began with Gojo. It wasn’t fueled by anger or disgust or the feeling of craving validation. It just… was. Sure, her impending execution hung over her head as it had ever since the trial. But this… was nice. Nicer than she had imagined. 

"I think she’s had enough for one night," Geto interjected, tossing Kugutsu a candy.

Gojo hummed thoughtfully, popping another candy into his mouth. "Fair. I’d say Play-Doh is officially one step above useless. Maybe even two steps."

"Wow, high praise," Kugutsu said but it didn’t have any bite to it.

"Hey, don’t let it go to your head," Gojo shot back casually.

Geto shook his head, a small, genuine smile on his face. "Come on, Satoru. Let’s go before you provoke her into trying to break through Infinity again."

Gojo gave an exaggerated sigh but followed after Geto, giving Kugutsu a casual wave as he walked away. "Don’t forget, I want a rematch where you actually make me try a little. You aren’t allowed to die until then, otherwise you’re just weak."

Kugutsu watched them leave, the echoes of their banter lingering in the clearing. She looked down at the broken Conduit in her hands, turning it over thoughtfully. The weight of failure still pressed on her, but the sting was tempered now, dulled by something lighter.  

She had the perfect cursed technique for the job. She would ensure this Star Plasma Vessel transfer would go off without a hitch. She would learn what she needed, get strong enough to do it and cement herself as a capable sorcerer. Afterwards, she might consider what else she wanted from life. Right now though, she had orders to follow. And a hope that afterwards she would figure it out.

Despite the dread. Something in her felt lighter. Maybe it was acceptance she wasn’t sure. But despite her efforts to keep her head down, she had looked up to Geto and Gojo for so long. But to be included by them, even mentored by them... It was different from her relationship with Nanami and Haibara. They were classmates and equals. These two were giants, each in their own right. Together they were the strongest. And yet, they had just come by, tossed her a piece of candy, something small and human. She rolled it between her fingers, studying it with a touch of wariness. Slowly, almost cautiously, she placed it in her mouth. She could feel it- the weight of the reality she lived in: she might be discarded without a second thought, lost to the society that cared nothing for her. Few would mourn and not for long. But in this fleeting moment, she had something. Something small. 

The candy was sweet . For tonight, she would focus on that.

The candy was sweet.

Chapter Text

Everyone else was out on a mission. It wasn’t surprising– there was always work to be done, curses to exorcise, lives to save. But this time, the silence left behind was suffocating. Geto, Gojo and Shoko were off somewhere foreign dealing with some big bad curse. Said it would probably take them a few days given the travel time. Haibara and Nanami were off too, being shadowed by Yaga-sensei. They had gotten a lot of missions together by the time Kugutsu was barred from coming along. She was happy for them. Incredibly so. She saw the way the two bonded, how they grew stronger as a unit, fighting by each other's side. It was good– ideal even. They deserved to grow, to thrive. Despite the clawing, nagging feeling in her chest, she was happy for them. That’s what she told herself. Over and over.

All that to say, Jujutsu High was quieter than it had ever been in all the time she has stayed here. It was unnatural. Sorcery brought together lots of loud personalities (typical when putting a bunch of weirdos in the same school), a quiet day was unheard of. Something loud happened every day even if it was something as simple as Geto and Gojo getting into another argument. Jujutsu High had been quiet for 6 days now.

She walked– more like aimlessly wandered– down the halls, taking turns wherever she pleased. She had no destination, just watching the dim lights cast long shadows across the floorboards. She had finished training, eating, training some more, studying, eating and studying some more. It felt like going through the motions of a life that had already left her behind. She was bored out of her mind. 

All of her classmates' typical haunts, usually filled with laughter, were desolate spaces. They looked emptier than any normal uninhabited room like something vital had been stripped away, leaving behind hollow echoes. Kugutsu was’t sure why, but it reminded her of home. 

She wondered, absentmindedly, if her parents had moved on. Had they gotten used to the hole she filled in their familial dynamic? Did they care? Her phone felt heavy in her pocket. If they did care, they had a funny way of showing it. Though, it's not like Kugutsu had reached out to them either. She wasn’t much better was she?

Her time at home wasn’t what most would call... Familial. The word felt foreign, ill-fitting when applied to her life. Her life, her family had always been more like a business transaction than an emotional connection. Her actions reflected negatively or positively on her family. Approval wasn’t given freely; it was earned, quantified, and measured against their expectations. If she acted in accordance with their wishes she got rewarded. The inverse also true, harshly so. 

Duty to their public perception, to their standing in their own circles of influence, was more important than the feelings of a lowly child. She was an only child, a child her parents saw as an expectation rather than a blessing. Their decision to have her wasn’t rooted in affection or the dream of raising a family– it was just the next move in the game. It was expected for them to have a child and so they did. It was expected of her to behave so she did.

Kugutsu didn’t realize this wasn’t a normal family unit until she came to Jujutsu High. The realization had been slow, creeping in like sunlight through drawn curtains, revealing cracks in the foundation she had thought was solid. The way her classmates spoke and interacted with one another told her everything she had to know about their home lives. They were much different than hers.

She paused mid-step, her thoughts catching up to her as she stared at the dimly lit hallway ahead. Why had her parents cared so much about appearances? About what others thought? Why was it so important to them to control how they were seen, even by people who barely mattered?

Her brain reeled, picking apart fragments of her childhood she had long since tucked away. Her mother’s cool, measured voice echoing in her memory: "Your behavior reflects on us, Kugutsu Sone. Every action you take either strengthens or weakens this family. Do you want to be the reason we are weak?"

Her father’s gaze, unyielding and sharp, cutting through her defenses every time: "Your worth is tied to your obedience. Don’t make us regret our investment in you."

She exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through her hair. She had accepted her role– believed it, even. But now, with the weight of her duties as a sorcerer on her shoulders, it all seemed so small. Petty. Insignificant. Why had they wasted so much energy caring about how they were seen? What had they been so desperate to protect?

And yet, it hadn’t been small to her mother and father. It hadn’t been small when they sat her down, looked her in the eyes, and told her exactly what her standing was in the world.

"You’re not special," her mother had said as a matter of fact "You’re functional. And that’s enough. So long as you remain useful."

It wasn’t small when she realized, even as a child, that her worth in their eyes was conditional, precarious, a thread they could cut whenever they saw fit.

It wasn’t small at all.

She looked up, finding herself suddenly outside under a tree. The very spot that Gojo had dragged her out from what felt like forever ago. Looking at the sky through the branches something dawned on her. Her parents had actually taught her a very valuable lesson, one that would help her face the world of Jujutsu.

She was expendable.

They all were. Each sorcerer in their own right. Everyone was expendable unless you were strong enough to be vital. Strong like Gojo and Geto. Useful like Shoko and Utahime. Kugutsu had no use. She had crossed the line from acceptable into nuisance and now she was facing her natural consequences.

A grin broke on Kugutsu’s face. A level of understanding, what she would call an enlightenment. Her execution order hung like a shadow over her existence, a cruel reflection of her parents’ lessons: value was fleeting, contingent, and easily erased. How could she forget? How could laziness and complacency take hold of her core belief?

 If she could hold onto anything, it was this: she still had a purpose, a mission. Even if it killed her. She would make herself irreplaceable. That is how she would make her path. And it started with the Star Plasma Vessel.

"Kugutsu! I’m so happy to run into you!" Utahime’s voice pierced through her thoughts.

She tore her gaze away from the night sky, turning to face her cousin. It had been a long time since they last spoke. She was a welcome reprieve from these empty halls.

"I heard about the trial," Utahime said, her voice soft but filled with disbelief. "I can’t believe the Kamo clan would do such a thing. Calling for the death of a first-year? It’s… disgraceful. You don’t deserve this." She paused, looking at Kugutsu with a mix of confusion and concern. "I know we haven’t spoken much lately…"

Kugutsu hummed in response, her gaze still drawn to the moon above. There was something strangely peaceful about how small she felt under its light.
"I haven’t seen you in a while either," Kugutsu spoke softly. The words felt distant, like they came from someone who had forgotten what it meant to speak intimately.

"Yeah, I know," Utahime replied, her voice tinged with regret. "It’s been crazy lately. But look, are you okay? Really okay?" She hesitated, the edge of her usual confidence faltering. "I mean… you’re my cousin, Kugutsu. It matters."

"Surprisingly, yes. I am worried about the whole star plasma vessel thing, but I think I’ll be strong enough by then."

"Are– are you sure about that?"

Kugutsu turned her gaze back to Utahime, a faint smile on her lips. "I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t."

Utahime’s brow furrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. She stepped closer, the light of the moon casting sharp angles off Kugutsu’s face. 

"You don’t have to act like it’s fine, you know." Her voice was gentler now, tinged with hesitation.

"I’m not acting, I just… I don't want to worry. That's all."

There was silence between them then. No movement, no words. The cold night wind rustled past them carrying on it something bone chilling.

Without warning, Utahime’s arms were around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. Her cousin’s head tucked into the crook of Kugutsu’s neck, the warmth of her body a sharp contrast to the cool night air. Kugutsu froze, eyes widening in surprise as she felt a weight press down on her chest- a mixture of her own discomfort and the sudden surge of raw emotion from Utahime.

Utahime’s voice cracked as she spoke. "You– You’re not alone, okay? I’m older than you, you don’t have to act so indifferent all the time. "

The words hit Kugutsu with a strange force, and she stiffened. The hug, the emotion, the pleading… it was all so foreign to her. Growing up, the closest thing to affection she’d known was the cold validation her parents gave her when she succeeded. There was no room for vulnerability, no space for this kind of connection.

Utahime’s voice choked on her own sobs. "And we’re family on top of that. So you can't go around getting executed. You just can't."

Kugutsu had never been comfortable with physical affection. Still she did her best, awkwardly hugging her cousin, placing a (hopefully) comforting hand on her back. It was strange to comfort another person over her own execution. Over her own death sentence. It was a little backwards.

"I’m not planning on dying, Utahime. I’m going to do whatever they ask of me so that I don't."

Utahime swallowed hard, nodding, though her worry was far from eased. "You can talk to me. Or anyone else. Even if it’s just to complain about how annoying Gojo is."

Kugutsu let out a soft laugh, a rare sound that seemed to lighten the weight of the conversation. She wasn’t sure where it came from, or if it was even genuine but she was happy about the way it made her tone lighter. 

 "I’ll keep that in mind. But really, I’m okay, Utahime. I’ve got this."

The two cousins sat side by side, watching the sky. They were distant cousins, sure, but Utahime was the closest thing she had to what people meant when they said family. The bar wasn’t very high but still.

Kugutsu watched as Utahime’s head slowly tilted to the side, coming to rest on her shoulder. She was out cold, exhausted from the day’s missions and the weight of it all. The soft rise and fall of Utahime’s breathing was the only sound, a quiet, familiar rhythm that seemed so distant from Kugutsu's own thoughts.

She had lost the luxury of rest as soon as the order for her execution was read.  Her failures had already been set in stone. So now, she had to do what she always did- keep moving, keep surviving. Everyone else had moved forward, on missions, playing their part. If she could make herself indispensable, if she could just follow the orders, play the part - maybe she wouldn’t be left behind again. She didn’t want to be left behind. She grew fond of these people, she didn’t like the feeling of being left. 

If she was strong enough, she wouldn’t be a toy to break and throw away.

She needed to be irreplaceable. She had to carve her place into this world, even if it meant swallowing her pride and playing the role she was given.

Spring was right around the corner when Kugutsu began one of her most important preparations for the Star Plasma Vessel transfer. Her cursed technique thrived based on how familiar she was with the cursed energy she was manipulating. The more she was familiar with it, the more mastery and control she could display. It wasn’t long until she realized that such familiarity would be essential for the transfer. Which by and large meant she would need to familiarize herself with Master Tengen’s cursed energy as well as whoever this vessel would be. She wasn’t too worried about the vessel. Her understanding was that they would be a non-sorcerer, so their cursed energy should be easy enough to familiarize with. 

Master Tengen was a different story.

The higher ups had declined her request to speak with Tengen directly. Kugutsu couldn’t say she was surprised, if they really thought she was some kind of traitor it would be strange for them to allow her so close to him– even under supervision. Much less use her cursed technique on him before the time was right.

That's how Kugutsu found herself with her palms pressed lightly against Master Tengen’s barriers trying to familiarize herself with the cursed energy without inputting any of her own. It was something she was getting better at, her cursed energy would no longer desperately latch onto anyone else's like a sobbing child. It wasn’t easy, but she had a certain level of control over it now.

Master Tengen’s cursed energy was strange– vast yet formless, without beginning or end, yet undeniably present. She took a deep breath, settling into a comfortable position.  It was faint, difficult to see but also all around her and overwhelming at the same time. An amazing feat of jujutsu sorcery Kugutsu was almost honored to be able to dissect with her own technique

Her routine had become simple, stay here for as long as she could stand it between her other responsibilities. Slowly working on understanding the intricacies of Master Tengen’s cursed energy through the barrier. 

What wasn’t routine, was the sudden sound of a blade racing towards her.

She barely dodged, sacrificing focus as she spun, eyes scanning for the assailant. No one was there. She tried to find the blade but only found a spattering of blood on the ground. Quickly checking herself she was certain she wasn’t bleeding.

The Kamo clan. Of course.

"I thought the higher ups agreed that you wouldn’t be taking my head yet." She spoke aloud, settling into a battle stance and expanding her focus to her surroundings. It was a common technique for sorcerers to try and repress their cursed energy levels to near zero to try and hide their presence. Thankfully for Kugutsu, near zero was not unidentifiable. It was hard, but she could vaguely understand the direction they were in. 

At the resounding silence that followed she continued. "I know you’re there. I can feel your cursed energy. Didn’t you do your research?"

A voice, from her left, spoke. "The higher-ups have made their decision. The Kamo clan is resolute in ours." 

Then came violence. Three Kamo clan members rushed from the treeline. Two wielded swords, blades humming with cursed energy. The third’s weapon was not steel, but blood itself. Not exactly the display of someone looking to negotiate.

 Kugutsu began the fight by doing what she does best. Dodging. She wove between their attacks, guiding their movements to keep them from attacking all at once. Kugutsu ducked low, feeling the wind shift as a blade passed cleanly over her head. She twisted sharply, dropping to a crouch as the second assassin came from behind- his sword aiming to cleave through her ribs. 

Her feet slid effortlessly across the floor, a perfectly timed backstep putting her just beyond another’s reach. The blood and steel scraped against the stone floor, sparks flashing in her peripheral vision.

As Kugutsu moved, fast and focused, her strategy began to form. Her mind assessed them quickly: the two sword users were weaker. Slower. Predictable. They regularly fell for her faints. She could break those two.

A laugh bubbled in Kugutsu’s chest as she turned away from under another strike. Her fingers ghosted over the blade as it sliced through the space she had just occupied.

Fragile.

All she would need to do is get in close enough to touch the blade’s cursed energy and it would shatter. They weren’t strong tools. Much weaker than the Shintai Conduit. 

The two swordsmen, now positioned on either side of her, rushed in unison. She let them. Twin blades streaked toward her throat. Kugutsu’s hands snapped up. Flesh met steel, pain blooming as the edges bit deep. The assassin’s stared at her in confusion and shock.

Then in an instant the blades shattered, turning to dust in her palm.

"You should have sent your best, Kamo-sama."

Before they could react, she struck. The two fell like a bag of rocks. 

Her focus was now on the stronger of the three, the man with the blades made of blood. He seemed to like using it as a ranged weapon, throwing small blades and creating more with the blood that seeped from his wounds. Kugutsu would have to get close. 

Each flick of his wrist sent a barrage of bloody blades out to strike. He was a lot more liberal with his blades now that he didn’t have to concern himself with his compatriots. Kugutsu forgoed trying to close the distance, instead focusing on ducking and weaving under his attacks. The attacks were hard to get past. Small but lightning quick. 

Kugutsu raised her hands besides her head and lowered her posture, focusing on ducking and weaving through the sea of blood, much like a boxer would. 

"This blood… it's weaker than I would have expected for the Kamo clan." Kugutsu said, mentioning it as if remarking on the weather. She hoped upon hope that he would take the bait. Use more effort to create larger weapons, to hit her with more force than necessary rather than just waiting her out.

The Kamo Clan assassin’s face scrunched in anger. He took a deep breath momentarily dropping his endless attacks for something much larger. That small pause was Kugutsu’s opportunity.

She surged forward, slamming her palm onto his chest and forcing her cursed energy to resonate with his. Then as he tried to produce his larger attack, she pushed his cursed energy away from his bloody hand. His cursed technique flickered– died. His blood dripped onto the ground without pause.  

Kugutsu didn’t let up, slamming her fists into him and starting a real fight. Whenever he tried fighting back she slammed his cursed energy away from his arms. If he tried to block, the energy flooded everywhere else but where she was hitting. Her training with Geto was easy to see in each and every one of her precise movements. It was an impressive dance Kugutsu had learned to perform. Fighting while keeping a hand on her opponent as much as possible. Keeping that contact alive and activating it when it was advantageous to her. She would need to thank Nanami for being her test dummy.

The blood manipulator fell at her feet, the sharp scent of his blood infecting the air. The Kamo clan had sent these weaklings after her. Why? She had trained, she was stronger. Her technique wasn’t overtly offensive, sure. She couldn’t explode things with her mind or summon an army of curses. Did the Kamo clan bank on that fact? She could have finished them off. All three of them. Without thinking about it. 

The idea of killing didn’t make Kugutsu queasy. It was the first time she had even had the opportunity to do so. She was surprised by how unphased she was at the idea.

But what would any of it prove? If she killed three members of the Kamo clan, what would it get her? She stepped forward, her feet barely touching the pool of blood that had formed around her opponent. For once, she stood above her enemy– power in her grasp, control hers alone. It would be so easy to finish this.  

She lowered herself to her knees and bowed, her forehead kissing the floor covered in the blood of her enemy.

"Please leave so I can return to my work, Kamo-sama."

The assassin, bloody and bruised, looked at her in bewilderment. 

"Otherwise– if the Kamo clan will take my head regardless of my mission's merit. Take it already. Prove that the Kamo clan is more selfish than–"

The slow clap cut through the silence, sharp and mocking. A voice followed, unmistakably smug. 

"Wow. And here I thought I was going to get to fight someone with all this cursed energy flaring." Gojo grinned, peering at the four beyond his sunglasses.

"Attacking a student on school grounds is certainly a choice to make, huh?" Gojo continued, his voice sharp under the charade of nonchalance. "Even outnumbering a first year wasn’t enough. What has the Kamo clan come to?"

It did not take much more than the presence of Gojo for the three assassins to scutter off. Whatever plan they might have had was abandoned half way between the beat-down Kugutsu had given them and the appearance of the Gojo clan heir. Neither of them made a move to stop their escape.

Kugutsu sat up, kneeling in a puddle of her enemies’ blood watching Gojo. It was quiet, both just observing the other.  

"Tell me something." Gojo broke the silence, his voice quieter now, no longer taunting- just curious in a way that felt unnerving. "Do you want to die, Play-Doh?"

Kugutsu’s answer was immediate.

"Of course not."

"You weren’t just going to let them kill you?"

"No." She exhaled sharply, fingers curling into fists against her thighs. The blood on her forehead was already drying, sticking to her skin like a brand. "It was… it was the only option I had."

Gojo tilted his head slightly, his grin fading just a little. "The only option, huh?"

"I couldn’t let them beat me, but I couldn’t kill them either." Kugutsu’s voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of exhaustion beneath it. "If I killed them, I would have just angered the Kamo Clan more. If I let them beat me, then either I die, or any idea of me being even slightly competent blows out the window."

She wiped at her forehead, her sleeve smearing the blood rather than cleaning it.

"Just–" her jaw tightened, frustration creeping in at the edges. “– it was the only thing I could think of. Surviving means playing the game… right?"

Gojo let out a quiet laugh- not his usual boisterous, carefree kind, but a quieter, sharper sound.

"Playing the game." He repeated it like it was something distasteful. "Playing is boring if you aren’t trying to win."

"I don’t need to win. I just need to not lose."

Gojo stared at her for a long moment. And then, he sighed, raking a hand through his hair.

"Man. You really don’t get it, huh?"

Kugutsu frowned. "Get what?"

Gojo opened his mouth to say something- then stopped.

 "Nevermind, you’re a mess." He turned around, leaving behind a few choice words. "Bowing makes you look pathetic, you know? One day, someone’s gonna make sure you never stand back up"

And then he was gone.

Kugutsu stood up slowly, dripping in blood that was not her own. Her eyes scanned the treeline where Gojo had just disappeared. She wasn’t sure if she was looking for anything in particular.She wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Only that she had to look

Eventually she turned, returning to Master Tengen’s barrier. Returning to her work. She didn’t have time to rest. She had to work.

Kugutsu didn’t walk back inside until the late afternoon. Her body was still covered in the Kamo Clan’s blood, a strange, suffocating weight that clung to her like a second skin. Her fingers burned with exhaustion and her eyes just wanted rest. It wasn’t the first time she had walked into the student dorms looking like this- well minus the blood. The blood was new, but the exhaustion was familiar. 

The door to the cafeteria slid open softly. Kugutsu doesn’t remember the last time she ate. It was probably this morning, but even that felt like forever ago. It could have been yesterday for all she cared. She was starving and some dried blood was not going to stop her.

The cafeteria was quiet, which Kugutsu was grateful for. She didn’t want to deal with a loud room. She couldn’t deal with it really. The only other person in the room was Nanami, quietly eating his food with one hand, reading a book with his other. 

He didn’t flinch when she entered, just turned a page of his book, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As if she wasn’t covered in blood.

Kugutsu knew he’d seen the blood. He wasn’t oblivious.

She grabbed something to eat, barely paying attention to what was on her plate before finding a seat. The silence between them seemed to stretch on forever. Not the uncomfortable kind, the one that didn’t need to be filled. They were both just doing their own thing and that was enough. Kugutsu couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that this was the last time she could get normal. She couldn’t help but think how many more moments like this moment could she have before the end. 

“That blood isn’t yours, right?” Nanami spoke first, his voice calm.

“No. It’s not.”

A pause. He didn’t ask for details. It wasn’t his style. Nanami preferred to focus on what was in front of him rather than drag out what didn’t need to be said. Though maybe Gojo had already run around telling everyone already. She wouldn’t put it past him. 

“Are you going to clean up?” He asked a simple question, but the way his eyes flicked to the bloodstains said he wasn’t just talking about her clothes.

Kugutsu's lips pressed into a thin line. “Later. I’m hungry now.”

“You sure?” Nanami’s tone was low, but she caught the slight edge of concern in it.

“Yeah. I am.”

Another long span of silence between them. Nanami read his book while Kugutsu ate her food. Kugutsu, even in this somewhat awkward moment, had always enjoyed her time with Nanami. It's a shame they hadn’t gotten to talk recently, and that this was how he saw her.

“Haibara is worried about you. Says you’re too focused.”

“I have work to do.”

“I know.” Nanami paused, putting his book down. “Actually, no I don't know. But I don't think that matters. We haven’t seen you outside of class in quite some time. It's a shame.”

“You’re right.” Kugutsu agreed. “It is.”

Another moment of quiet passed between them, but this time it felt heavier. The words hung in the air, unspoken but understood.

“I know I can’t tell you to quit whatever you are up to, but Haibara wanted me to invite you to come with us into the city sometime”

Kugutsu smiled. It was a small thing. A tiny gesture. 

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

Nanami and Kugutsu had always thrived in the quiet moments. They had always understood each other best in the space between words. She had almost forgotten how peaceful it could be. 

“When I’m allowed on missions again. I’d like a chance to go with you two again. We make a good team.” Kugutsu remarked, her eyes lazily dancing around the ceiling.

“We do.”

His tone was resolute, so matter-of-fact it felt like a law of the universe, unshakable and absolute. Like nothing could ever be said that would make such a statement less than absolute fact.

Kugutsu nodded with a smile, even if she didn't feel it in her chest. Because she was nothing if not polite. She was nothing if not polite and obedient. She would be useful again soon. She would feel it again when she was useful, not covered in her would-be assassin's dried blood.

Chapter Text

Kugutsu had never given much thought to how Geto looked while taming his curses. That is until right now. It wasn’t something people talked about. Not even Gojo. It was one of those things you don’t think about until it’s staring you in the face. She had come to tell Geto something important. But as she watched him swallow, the words curdled in her throat– rotten before they could be spoken.

He looked strained. His head tilted back, jaw wrenched open as a writhing mass of cursed energy plunged down his throat– too large, too violent, too wrong. His eyes went wide, raw with something Kugutsu could only liken to disgust. His hand shot up, clamping over his mouth. He looked like he might vomit, like he wanted to purge every last trace of the thing writhing inside him. His throat convulsed, straining against the intrusion, but he swallowed it down, a shudder running through him.

For someone Kugutsu had admired like a god, he looked painfully human.

 It took only a second for Geto to steady himself– but that image, raw and unguarded, would carve itself into her memory

“Oh– Sone." Geto’s voice was quiet, almost absent. "Didn’t see you there.”

Kugutsu wasn’t sure why this image unsettled her so much. It wasn’t as though she’d believed Geto immune to the ugliness of Jujutsu. She had seen him fight. She knew, in some detached way, that his technique had consequences. But knowing and seeing were two very different things.

She had come here with purpose. Something that had felt urgent when she first sought him out. But now? Watching him struggle through something she couldn’t even begin to understand, the words snagged, tangled .She could brush it off. Pretend she hadn’t noticed. But that didn’t sit right with her.

Instead, she said the only thing that came to mind.

“You look like hell.”

A huff of laughter, dry and fleeting. "Yeah? I hear it’s a good look on me."

Kugutsu didn’t smile. Didn’t take the bait. Geto met her gaze, and after a second, his amusement flickered out.

“Is it.. always that bad?”

For a second, he said nothing. His expression didn’t change, but she caught it– the barest tension in his fingers, how his breath stilled just slightly before he forced a smile.

“It’s… not pleasant." He exhaled slowly, as if weighing his words. "But it’s necessary.” Geto took a deep breath, stepping out from the shadow that had swallowed him. Kugutsu had known he’d be out in the city– she had followed his cursed energy here. But she hadn’t expected to find him like this.

“So,” Geto spoke up, his typical smile now adorning his features. “What brings you out of your cave at school?”

“You actually.”

“Oh?" His grin widened, teasing but not unkind. "Didn’t think you cared so much." 

“I wanted to talk to you before– before, well…I don't know when it will- the whole thing." Kugutsu exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "I didn’t think– look, I’m sorry if I interrupted anything.” 

Kugutsu wasn’t typically one to trip over her own words. This just felt wrong.

“It’s fine, just part of the job.” Geto waved a hand dismissively. “You’re not one to go out of their way to look for people, so what's up?”

“If I’m being honest, Geto... I– I really don't remember anymore.”

Geto stared at her, dumbfounded for a moment. Then erupted in  a genuine, full bodied laugh that startled her.

“Alright, well how about we grab something to eat and let's see if you remember on the way.”

Geto started walking, leading the way–  but Kugutsu had something important to say. Something that if she didn’t say right now she would never.

“You know, your cursed energy is really different, right?” The words fell from her lips before she could think twice.

He paused looking back at her strangely. “I would hope so.”

“No.” She frowned, trying to find the right words. She was trying to be comforting. “It’s layered. When I first interacted with it I realized there were a bunch of little specs in it. Like a thousand tiny fractures.”

“My curses, then?”

“Yeah but it's more than that. It’s complex. Layered, like there are thousands of weak points where it could break but it never does.”

He tilted his head, considering her. “That’s a poetic way of saying I juggle too many curses at once.”

“That’s not what I mean." She met his gaze. "Your cursed energy– the part that is yours and yours alone– is strong. It holds them all together. It isn’t overwhelmed by the little ones. You should keep it like that.”

There was a flicker in his expression, something unguarded, something Kugutsu couldn’t quite decipher. Then, he smiled softly.

“Come on, let's get food.”

It didn’t take them long to settle into a restaurant booth and order their food. Kugutsu looked around at all the people around her, bustling and traveling from place to place. She didn’t remember the last time she allowed herself to just be outside with non-sorcerers. This was what she and every other sorcerer was fighting to protect. This quaint little restaurant with its overly expensive menu, and the people going about their day without worry. It was good that they had no worries. Kugutsu smiled at the thought. A use.

“So, anything coming to mind or do you just want to enjoy dinner away from school?” Geto began.

Kugutsu glanced up from the table, her thoughts still tangled. The gentle hum of conversation and clinking silverware filled the air around them, but she couldn’t shake the image of Geto struggling to swallow the cursed energy. 

“No, I…” She trailed off, taking a sip from her glass to mask her unease. “I think I just needed to see you. I didn’t know what I needed when I came, but I knew it was something important.”

Geto raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat with his usual nonchalance. “Well, you found me. But now you’ve got me curious. You came to talk to me, but... about what?”

“I think I wanted to say… thank you.” Kugutsu resisted the urge to bow her head. “Not just for training me. For– everything.”

Geto blinked, a moment of surprise flashing across his face before it melted into something softer. His usual teasing demeanor gone, looking at her with an intensity she wasn’t used to seeing. He straightened up in his seat, crossing his arms in front of him.

“I won’t accept it.”

“What do you mean you wont accept it?”

“Kugutsu.” The sound of her name pulled at something deep inside her, something unsteady. He had never said it before, he was formal and respectful. This was different. Sharp. Real.

“You sound like you’re planning on dying.”

“I’m not. I’m really not. I just don’t want anything left unsaid if something does happen.”

“Well then there is no need for any thank you’s” Geto smiled, it was soft. “Honestly, your weird cursed technique has forced me to improve my own control. So you aren’t getting out of training any time soon.”

“Alright… But I do have an actual request if- if I do.”

Geto’s smile turned stern but he said nothing. 

“Just stuff in my room. Letters that I want to make sure get where they need to. No one you don't know. Otherwise if any of my crazy theories could help anybody else I’d like for them to have access to it.” Kugutsu’s words were rushing past the point her brain could follow. “Don’t worry about my parents, they probably wouldn't care. No other family I really know but Utahime. And make sure you punch Gojo for me. I want to do it myself but I can’t if they kill me.”

The tension in the air thickened as Kugutsu's words spilled out before she could stop herself. She hadn’t meant for it to come to this, but now that it had, she couldn’t take it back. The thought of leaving things unresolved, of never being able to speak her mind again, terrified her more than anything.

Geto stared at her, his expression unreadable. His usual teasing smile had vanished, replaced with something more serious, more solemn.

“Are you planning on dying or not?”

“I’m not.”

“Certainly acting like it, Kugutsu.” Again, saying her name so casually.

“I’ll just. I’ll be able to give it my all knowing that if the worst happens it’s been settled. I’m not– I’m not really good at saying what I want to say. Especially not in the moment. If I know everything has been settled then… then I can’t worry about regrets.”

Geto weighed her words, his expression calculating.

“Is that it?”

“...Yeah.”

“Okay. I can live with that.”

“Thank you,” she spoke softly.

He blinked. Just for a second, his expression unreadable. Then his fingers dipped into his pocket, retrieving a small deck of hanafuda cards. The colorful cards were neatly stacked, their edges worn slightly from use. Geto shuffled through the deck with practiced ease, his fingers moving fluidly, before selecting one. He pulled it out and handed it to her, the card between his fingers light but purposeful.

Kugutsu took the card from him, her fingers brushing against his for a moment, and she turned it over in her hands.

“What's this for?” Kugutsu asked.

“Keep it with you during the mission. Promise to give it back after it's over. That's it.”

Kugutsu paused, turning the card over in her fingers. Why did something so small feel so heavy? It wasn’t like playing cards were expensive. It wasn’t like he picked out a card specifically for her. There was no thought behind the act on the surface. But it felt important to Geto. It felt like to him it mattered even if only a little.

“Okay. I promise.”

Geto’s gaze softened slightly at her words, the faintest hint of relief flickering in his eyes, though it quickly disappeared behind his usual calm exterior. The atmosphere between them felt charged, like something significant had just transpired. Kugutsu felt the weight of the hanafuda card in her hand, its edges cool against her skin, and she couldn’t help but wonder about the quiet meaning behind Geto’s small gesture. 

“Good. It would be lame for me to walk around missing a card for too long.”

Kugutsu nodded, sliding the card into her jacket pocket carefully, her fingers brushing the fabric as if the token would somehow resonate more deeply if she treated it with reverence. Geto watched her for a moment, but his smile had shifted back to its more playful, teasing form.

“Alright, then.” he said, leaning back in his seat, his tone light. “Let's eat!”

She glanced at him again, trying to read his expression, but Geto was already looking at her with that confident, unbothered look he often wore.

“Let's eat.” Kugutsu repeated.

Chapter Text

Kugutsu sat stiffly in Yaga-sensei’s office, hands clasped tightly in her lap. The mission dossier lay before her, its presence heavier than any stone or any mountain. She should reach for it. She should open it. Her fingers twitched, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch it just yet.

Printed in bold letters across the cover:

STAR PLASMA VESSEL

It was finally time. Two days from now, Master Tengen and the Star Plasma Vessel would merge. In two days, her fate would be sealed one way or another. 

Yaga-sensei sat on the other side of her, refusing to make eye contact. His eyebrow was furrowed, arms crossed in front of him. He had said nothing since sliding the dossier across the table to her.

“Are these my final orders?” 

“Yes”

“Thank you, sensei.” She bowed her head in respect.

Finally gathering her courage, she opened up the document with trembling hands. Most of it was pretty simple, things she already knew from weeks and weeks of devoting her life to only this. What did surprise her were two familiar names: 

Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto were set to escort the vessel

She let out a long steady breath in relief. If there is anyone she could trust to get the job done it would be those two. The strongest. She had never been happier to have to spend time with Satoru Gojo. This was the best news. Absolutely outstanding news.

“Have you already told them?” 

Yaga-sensei sighed “Yes I have. They should be waiting for you outside.”

Kugutsu stood from her chair and bowed quickly. “Thank you for everything.”

As she turned to leave her teacher called out.

“Sone. Don’t die.”

She nodded a somber expression overtaking her features. But despite that, she couldn’t help but walk out the door with an extra spring in her step. Great news.

Kugutsu caught up to Gojo and Geto at the tail end of their conversation, her footsteps quickening as she neared them. She could hear Gojo’s easy laugh and the clink of coins in his hand.

“Oh, what, you scared?” Gojo said with a smirk, tossing coins up and down in his hand. “It’ll be fine. It’ll all work out somehow.”

“Gojo, Geto, wait up!” Kugutsu yelled, holding up some soda cans. “I snagged your favorites.”

Gojo turned with his usual exuberance, flashing her a bright grin. “Yo! took you long enough! Way to make a great first impression, Play-Doh.”

Kugutsu rolled her eyes with a small smile as she tossed them each a can, clutching her own tightly. The air was fresh, the sun high in the sky, and it was a beautiful spring day. The three of them stood together for a moment, the cool breeze rustling through the nearby trees. Despite the warmth of the day, there was a subtle weight in the air– an undercurrent of tension that refused to be ignored. The world seemed oddly calm, as though holding its breath.

Gojo threw an arm around her shoulder casually as they made their way towards the Star Plasma Vessel’s location. 

This was new.

Kugutsu had eyes– she knew Gojo was a very physically affectionate guy, but he had never done something like this before. She tensed, instinctively pulling away slightly, though it wasn’t enough to shake him off. She didn’t like being touched, especially like this, but this was the start of the mission. No need to start something she couldn’t finish now. The happier Gojo was, the better the mission would go. She just had to get through it.

It didn’t take long for them to reach their destination. Some… corporate building it looked like– all glass and all sleek. Geto had already gone inside to retrieve the vessel, leaving Gojo and Kugutsu outside. The combination of Gojo’s Six Eyes and Kugutsu’s Cursed Technique made for a formidable surveillance team, so they took their positions, keeping watch.

Kugutsu’s brows furrowed in concentration, her mind focused on the task at hand. Her grip on the soda can in her hand tightened as she continued to scan the area, her sharp eyes missing nothing.

Gojo, however, seemed completely at ease. He was leaning back casually, holding his phone with his shoulder, on a call.

Gojo leaned down to look at her. “You’re so tense! Don’t be. Me and Suguru– we’re the strongest. We’ll get this done in no time, and your execution will be a thing of the past.”

From the other end of the phone, Geto’s voice was sharp with annoyance. “You know Satoru, I’ve been meaning to say this for a while. I think you should really stop being so full of yourself.”

Gojo made an indignant sound.

“Especially when you're addressing your superiors,” Geto continued. “We might end up meeting Master Tengen soon. You really should be more polite and humble. It would make you less threatening for the first years.”

“Ha! Yeah screw that.” Gojo said made eye contact with Kugutsu.

“Don’t know if you care, Gojo, but all the first years like Geto more than you.” 

The limitless user stuck his tongue out at her. 

Geto’s voice came through the other end with a heavy sight. “Come on Satoru… Whatever we can talk about it later.” 

Just as Geto’s voice died down on the other end an explosion rang out. The side of the building Geto was in exploded. Kugutsu watched on in horror.

“You think we’ll be blamed if the kid’s already dead?”

“ You might not get blamed but I certainly will be.”

“Great so we have a scapegoat.” Gojo cheered, teasingly.

As the smoke cleared above them, they could clearly make out Geto diving with one of his curses to catch the falling figure. Kugutsu was happy she could trust Geto at least.

Suddenly a volley of knives rocketed towards the duo. Kugutsu moved to dodge the volley but Gojo just took a step forward, stopping the knives right in their tracks. His Infinity a bubble keeping the two of them unharmed.

She recognized these knives. She grabbed one of them, plucking it from where it floated against Infinity. She recognized these fucking knives. 

A gloved clap rang out, as a familiar face made himself known. He had the same long, dark purple hair. The same stupid face mask. The same stupid white uniform and the same stupid hat. The member of organization Q from her last mission.

“Wonderful,” the masked man began, leaning on the railing above them. “You’re Satoru Gojo, right? You're famous. I hear you’re strong. Let me find out if the rumors are true.”

“Sure I’m game. But let's set some rules.”

“Rules?”

Satoru Gojo walked forward, his infinity pushing the blades away from him. “You see, I don't want to get in trouble for going overboard. So if you cry and apologize then I won't kill you.” He smirked. “That's our rule.”

Kugutsu was enraged. She wanted pay-back. She wanted revenge on this man. He was the reason she was going to be executed. She had spent months drowning in the consequences of that mission. She spent the last months training herself to the brink just on the off-chance her half-baked plan of replacing the conduit could work. 

But no amount of discipline had erased the shame that clung to her like a second skin. And now, here he was. The cause of it all.

This was her fight. Her fight. Her Fight.

“Gojo.” Kugutsu said, her voice just barely containing her hatred. “Lay off.”

Gojo’s eyebrow arched in confusion. “Why? Don’t wanna let me have all the fun?”

Kugutsu didn’t even acknowledge him. Without a word, she stepped between Gojo and her target, moving with cold precision. She bowed to the man she currently hated most of all. All the frustration of her current situation boiling over.

“It’s a pleasure to be in your presence again, Mr. Q” The words left her lips like venom.

The man leaned back, smirking “I am sorry, I don’t think I remember you.”

Kugutsu’s expression didn’t change. She rose from the bow, her gaze locked with his, cold and unwavering. 

“That's fine. Unlucky for you I do remember.”

Kugutsu sprinted to action, fueled by a basic instinct for carnage. She was the kind of fighter who thrived through having a calm head. She carefully weighed her opponent’s strength against her own and then worked accordingly. Kugutsu wasn’t a woman driven by emotions– no, she was an instrument of discipline. But this was different. This was all emotions.

Her palm dug into his knife, surging with cursed energy. Her cursed technique was nothing if not precise under her fingerprints. She didn’t just manipulate the cursed energy of others– she dominated it. And now, as her hand tightened around the blade, she felt the pull of the man’s own cursed energy, tugging and writhing against her control. It was simple. You’re mine.

 His body contorted in strange ways, his cursed energy fighting him from the inside. The body of a sorcerer is nothing without the massive amounts of cursed energy that dwelled inside it. Kugutsu imagined this is what puppeteers felt like, controlling their marionettes with utmost precision. His cursed technique was useless. Every time he tried to summon his throwing knives, every time he tried to fight back, Kugutsu simply reined in his energy further. He was helpless.

She grew bored of watching his body contort from afar, her hand clutching his knife like a lifeline, so physical punishment would have to do. 

He was helpless to her whims.

A fact which made her repeatedly curb stomping this man to oblivion all the tastier. Every punch carried the weight of her failure. Every kick was a scream she had swallowed since that day. She didn’t just want to win– she wanted to obliterate him, to shatter the reminder of her weakness into unrecognizable pieces.

Her knuckles cracked with each strike, blood and sweat mixing on her skin. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed in her ears, drowning out everything else. She pounded on him, over and over, until her fist was raw, until she could feel his blood dripping onto the ground beneath them. Her movements were calculated, precise, but there was nothing restrained about the way she battered him down. This man wasn’t worth the calm precision she usually wielded. This was her release.

She stopped when she heard the distinct click of a camera. She looked over, to find Gojo taking a selfie of her and her mangled victim.

“One hell of a show, Kugutsu.” He grinned. “Remember when you thought you were just a support character. What a waste that was.”

He typed something on his phone before snapping it closed. He had been pushing Kugutsu to the edge for a long time, testing her limits, challenging her to break out of the constraints she had built around herself. She had always been an instrument of discipline, sharp and precise, a weapon forged in the heat of rigorous training. But Gojo didn’t care for tools. He wanted to see what lay beyond her calm, controlled exterior. He wanted to push her until she cracked.

“You done with him?”

Kugutsu looked at the man, beaten and broken beneath her.

“Yeah. I’m done.”

“Alrighty then. Let's go meet up with Geto.”

The two walked away from the man, making their way towards their charge. Kugutsu was happy to let silence dominate their journey but Gojo–

“So who was that guy?”

“The man who forced me to break the Shinkai Conduit.”

Gojo’s expression softened just a fraction. 

“You don’t regret it?” Gojo asked, his tone now more serious than it had been before.

“No. He was in the way.”

Gojo studied her, his sharp eyes searching for something more. He didn’t speak right away, but the look he gave her was expectant. There was more to this than just a cold statement. And she complied.

“It was… neat.”

Gojo burst out laughing. “Yeah, sure that's what I’d call it. Neat. ” His laughter was easy, unrestrained, but there was something affectionate in it. “Beating a man to a bloody pulp is neat. ”

The two of them continued walking toward their destination, side by side. At that moment, there was no need for words. Gojo had finally seen what he wanted– what he expected of her when he kept pushing her. Kugutsu had finally fought unrestrained by precedent or expectation or weakness. Her cursed technique wasn’t just control, it was dominance. 

It wasn’t long until Kugutsu came face to face with the Plasma Star Vessel- or Riko Amanai as she soon learned. She was smaller than Kugutsu expected. Not that Kugutsu expected much, but the frail child before her was not who she had pictured for Master Tengen. 

She did have to admit the girl was a lot braver than she gave her credit for. The first thing she did was slap Gojo across the face, the second was make fun of Geto’s hairstyle. She didn’t necessarily agree with the girl, but she was either too dumb to realize the kinds of people she was antagonizing or she was brash enough to not care. Maybe she had a right not to care if she would be erased soon. Regardless, she was happy to fall into the background of their conversations. 

Kugutsu did have one problem with the way the plan was unfolding. The plan was inefficient. Too many unnecessary risks for the sake of a girl who, in the end, wouldn’t even exist as herself. Kugutsu wasn’t heartless, but she was practical. The safest route was clear: take Amanai straight to Jujutsu High and guard her there. Simple. Clean. But orders were orders. And Kugutsu had spent her entire life following them. Even when they didn’t make sense.. 

That's how she found herself on the roof of the girl’s school, with eight of Geto’s curses swirling around her. It was simple, she would focus her cursed technique on Riko Amanai and send Geto pulses of cursed energy based on her movements. If Amanai moved, Kugutsu would direct cursed energy to the corresponding curse– like an old compass rose. If something disrupted the flow, she would dispel the spirits immediately. It wasn’t a perfect system, the campus was so large that north could mean a lot of things but it was better than standing around doing nothing though.

Though Kugutsu was spreading herself a little thin, it was nothing beyond what she could manage. She was particularly sensitive to cursed energy, her cursed technique basically forced her to be. But she didn’t have special eyes like Gojo. She had to focus if she wanted to parse through all the different energy signals at this school. Most of them were weak, but even non sorcerers had a measure of cursed energy which adds up quickly. And she hadn’t gotten time to really familiarize herself with Amanai’s cursed energy signature... It would have to be enough.

It didn’t take long before she felt it, a surge of cursed energy coming from the Northeast and Western sides. Amanai was somewhere in the south side so either these two were working together to actively flank the girl or they were searching randomly. 

She didn’t hesitate. Crushing the respective spirits under her fist was easy enough. She quickly dialed Geto’s phone number.

“Geto–” She didn’t even have time to say more.

“Already on the move, Kugutsu. Amanai is in music class, so she is in one of two rooms. Gojo and Kuroi are heading towards each possibility. I’m heading for the intruders. Rendezvous with me, enhance me if you can’t.”

“Got it.”

Kugutsu sprung to action following the familiar trail of Geto’s cursed energy. She had become quite familiar with its distinct pattern. She was close when she felt it flair, pushing her to move faster. She got there just in time to see Geto beat up an… old man?

Kugutsu flipped down from the roof, her head poking in through the broken window– a casualty of their fight.
“Geto, you aren’t just beating up an old man for fun, right?”

The old man nodded feverishly, trying to get her attention but it was useless.

“No. He was one of the intruders but I’ve got this handled. Go find Amanai.”

Kugutsu frowned only slightly. “I know this might sound strange coming from me but I was excited to finally fight alongside you.”

Geto went to respond but then stopped, eyes narrowing. Without warning he grabbed Kugutsu’s arm and pulled her into the building, narrowly avoiding a strike from a man with a paper bag above his head.

“Are you the girl with the 30 million bounty?”

Geto and Kugutsu shared a glance. There was a bounty for Amanai? Since when?

Geto walked forward, putting on such a manly guy act it almost made her laugh. “You won’t take her. Back off.” He should be an actor.

The paper bag man laughed enough for both of them it seems. Rushing forward to attack them. Kugutsu did her best to act demure and scared until the right moment. Just as Geto was about to strike she put a hand on the strange man’s back rushing the cursed energy away from his defenses. Geto’s punch landed. Hard. 

Geto and Kugutsu moved as if they had rehearsed this a hundred times before. They ducked and weaved between each other like snakes. Kugutsu struck first, a flicker of cursed energy disrupting the man’s defenses– just enough for Geto’s fist to crash into his ribs like a hammer. The attacker staggered, but before he could recover, Kugutsu slipped behind him, sweeping his legs from beneath him in a blur of movement. He barely hit the ground before Geto followed up with another crushing blow to his sternum. The man wheezed but instead of collapsing like dead weight, he melted into the shadows. 

Some kind of Shikigami?

“Kugutsu, go to the roof again and cover surveillance. I’m going to follow this disappearing act’s trail. Find anything, call me. This bounty is bad news”

“Understood.”

Kugutsu nodded, her movements swift as she pivoted on her heel and headed for the door. She could feel the tension in the air as Geto’s figure grew distant. Climbing back to the roof, Kugutsu reestablished her position, carefully recalibrating her cursed technique. She tapped into her sensitivity to cursed energy, filtering out the weak signals to focus on the stronger ones. She adjusted her cursed energy, sending energy through one of Geto’s lingering spirits.

It was relatively calm for a while. She could sense Gojo fighting somewhere to the North, Geto not far behind. It took her longer than she cared to admit, but suddenly and without warning she realized she couldn’t sense the maid, Kuroi’s presence.

Not dulled. Not masked. Just erased.

 It was like she was there and disappeared without explanation. No other strong cursed energy sources had entered the area. Just nothing. Like some sick magic trick. No cursed energy flared, not from the maid nor any other source. She just…. Vanished. Like a candle light. 

Kugutsu called Geto again. 

“Kugutsu?”

“You don't happen to have eyes on Kuroi do you?”

“No. I just left her. I'm on my way to help Gojo protect Amanai.”

Kugutsu was silent, considering her options. Her mission had nothing to do with Amanai’s keeper. Her dedication should be in keeping the Star Plasma Vessel safe and familiarizing herself with her energy signal, that's it. Ensuring the merger happened with no complications. But her duty as a jujutsu sorcerer was to protect those weaker than her. She had to protect people when they were harmed by cursed spirits or cursed users. That was her job. The more she thought the less she enjoyed this mission of hers.

“Kugutsu, what's going on?” Geto, always clever, interrupted her train of thought.

“I can’t sense Kuroi’s cursed energy anymore. I’m gonna go look into it. Stay with Amanai.”

Kugutsu hung up the phone and got to work, rushing to the last place where she had sensed her residual energy. When she got to the scene it was as barren as she expected. The front of the chappel was almost peaceful. No damage from any kind of fight. No traces of residual energy that could tell her anything. Just nothing. Kuroi didn’t run away. The woman didn’t seem the type. She wasn’t killed. There would have been a struggle, Kugutsu would have felt a spike in cursed energy. There would be signs of a battle in front of her.

Her phone rang, from Gojo.

“Kuroi has been taken by the Time Vessel Association.”

Chapter Text

It was surprisingly easy getting Kuroi back from her kidnappers. They made a strange choice choosing Okinawa for their exchange point. Stranger still how weak the guards had been protecting her. It was the simplest mission Kugutsu had ever heard of. It was too simple. Too easy.

The method of kidnapping was still on her mind too. No foreign cursed energy signature entered her perception before the kidnapping. Even non-sorcerers had cursed energy- weak but traceable. Kuroi was also trained so there is no way she would go down easily to a non sorcerer without at least a flare in her cursed energy as she tried to fight back. This didn’t make sense. Unease settled through Kugutsu.

And yet– she was building a sand castle.

They were at a beach. Playing. Yet her mind never stopped working, and her body refused to sit still. Every part of her was trained to react, to anticipate, to expect an attack. But here, surrounded by blue skies and the endless stretch of ocean, the only real threat was the occasional stray kick from Gojo.

He was currently half-wrestling Amanai into the water, laughing like an idiot while she joined in his laughter, doing her best not to fall in. Geto and Kuroi sat in the shade, deep in conversation, occasionally throwing amused glances at the chaos unfolding before them.

 But Kugutsu needed something to do with her hands. So… sandcastles.  

They were more like scale models. She was trying to remake Jujutsu High out of sand with her admittedly limited artistic ability. Kugutsu scooped another handful of sand, pressing it into a wall. She wasn’t playing. She was occupying her hands. That’s all this was. 

“Kugutsu.”

She didn’t even flinch as Geto’s shadow fell over her. He crouched beside her, eyes flicking between the intricate structure she had built and her rigid posture.

“You’re taking this pretty seriously,” he said, voice tinged with amusement.

Kugutsu exhaled through her nose, brushing a few stray grains of sand from her palms. “I need to keep my hands busy.”

Geto hummed, noncommittal. “You sure you’re not just enjoying yourself?”

She didn’t humor him with a response, quickly standing up and– much like a child wanting to make their point clear– kicking her creation a little. Watching the wall she had just made collapse inward under the mighty weight of her noncommittal kick. Of course to show she didn’t care. She wasn’t relaxing in the warm sun surrounded by people who had made an effort to help her in her toughest times. She was keeping her hands busy. That's all.

She turned away from the fun. 

“Amanai, would you mind sitting with me for a while?”

The girl looked up from her play fight with Gojo in surprise, before wandering over.

“What do you need?”

“Remember how I mentioned I’m here to make sure the merger goes well? To do so it would really be helpful if I could familiarize myself with your cursed energy.”

“Okay…” Kugutsu didn’t miss the somber expression that overwhelmed her features. “Do you need my blood or something?”

She shook her head “No, just let me put a hand on you. Otherwise you can do whatever you want.”

The girl sat down in the sand, next to Kugutsu’s semi destroyed sand model. Slowly, almost meticulously rebuilding the damage Kugutsu had done and making her own additions. This girl wasn’t as familiar with the intricacies of Jujutsu High as Kugutsu, but she still worked on making Kugutsu’s practical structure something a bit more… alive.

Kugutsu stared down at the girl, her expression impassive. She wasn’t sure what to feel about the strange, brave girl fixing her sand model. She could feel Gojo and Geto’s gaze on her back. They were paying very close attention to their interactions. Why? She hadn’t missed their not-so subtle glances when she had mentioned the merger. Definitely scheming those two. 

Ignoring the many questions and unease coursing through her brain she let her body get to work. She sat behind the young vessel, placing a hand on her back. She closed her eyes and let her energy and the young girl’s connect. Amanai didn’t have much cursed energy. She was a non sorcerer after all, just enough to see cursed spirits but not enough to do anything about it. Her cursed energy was peaceful, ironically soothing like soft waves on a beach coasting in and out from shore.

After a while, Kugutsu let go of Amanai, the vessel looking back at her with a frown.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah I’m just done for now. Go back to having fun with Gojo. I’ll have more time later.” The words came out of her mouth before she could really process them.

The girl’s smile turned feral, rushing to Gojo dunking him in the ocean, their laughter echoing across the ocean. Kugutsu wondered, only for a small moment, if their joy was so powerful that people on the other side of that massive body of water could feel it from their sandy beaches? 

She stared at the sand model Amanai had added to. It was nice… much nicer than what Kugutsu had managed. Sure it wasn’t accurate but it did feel more… human. 

 She stared for what felt like infinity. Her phone rang from… Nanami?

“Hello?”

“Hello, Sone. Everything alright in Okinawa?”

“Yeah– how do you know we’re in Okinawa?”

“Me and Haibara have been stationed at the airport. I don't think this is an appropriate mission for first years, but at least we aren’t in your position.” His words were light, but Kugutsu could hear the subtle edge beneath them. He was never one to shy away from pointing out the uncomfortable truths, even from a distance.

Kugutsu knew he was referring to her impending role in it all and her execution but looking around at the “position she was in” – a warm beach day… she decided to keep it to herself.

She shifted, forcing herself to look nonchalant despite the fact that Nanami couldn’t see her, “Yeah, everything is going well so far.”

“You sound concerned about that.”

“Things are just going too well. It might just be that I'm not used to missions with Gojo and Geto. They’re the strongest.”

An affirmative hum came from the other line “We’ll update you if anything strange happens on our end. Good luck.”

As simple as that, the phone line cut dead. Kugutsu walked over to Geto, dusting the sand off herself.

“Nanami and Haibara are stationed at the airport. We’re good to go.”

“I guess it’s time.” Geto replied, standing up steadily. “Satoru! Let’s get going!”

The two water combatants stopped in their tracks.
“Oh, I didn’t realize it was that late.” 

Kugutsu watched as Gojo stared at Amanai’s dejected figure for just a moment. Then approached his teammates with a noncommittal shrug.

“Suguru, let's head back tomorrow morning instead.”

“We can’t.” Geto replied evenly.

“The weather is holding steady, right?” Gojo countered, “Besides, there are fewer cursed users in Okinawa than there are in Tokyo.” 

Kugutsu’s gaze stayed focused on Gojo. The way he held his hands in his pockets, his slouched demeanor, his insistence on staying longer. Gojo really had a soft spot for the girl.

“Let’s keep it a little more serious, Satoru.”

“It’s better if the timer on the bounty runs out while we’re mid flight, right?”

“Satoru,” Geto began, stepping closer to his friend, his tone serious. “You haven’t released your technique since yesterday have you? You haven’t slept either? And you don't plan to sleep tonight do you? Are you sure we don't have to return to Jujutsu High?” 

Kugutsu could see it too. The way Gojo’s cursed energy levels were unnaturally low, the way it fluttered and spiked wildly before settling back into Gojo’s precise control. Gojo was skilled, but he was definitely pushing himself to his limits. 

“It’s not a problem. Grinding to end game in an MMO is far more draining.” He reached over, dangling an arm across Geto’s shoulder pulling him in with a grin. “And besides, you’re with me too.”

Geto and Kugutsu shared a glance. It was clear Geto was fine going along with this idea. Kugutsu couldn’t say she was pleased, but to go against these two giants and their plans at least right now… she trusted them that much.

“Gojo, I could also enhance your cursed energy tonight. I– not a lot, you’re still plenty stronger than me but a little would probably go a long way.”

“Glad you’re on board, Play-Doh”

“I don’t necessarily agree but if this is the plan we should make the most of it.”

He put his other arm around her shoulder, squeezing her and Geto into himself. Despite the exhaustion clearly apparent, the exhaustion he was working hard to hide, his face morphed into a shit eating grin. As always Kugutsu didn’t like being touched but… she couldn’t exactly escape Gojo’s grasp could she. So she let this affectionate moment eventually die out… and pass.

Kugutsu took out her phone number, sending her first year classmates a quick text. They would be staying just a little longer.

The group spent the rest of the day doing whatever Amanai Riko– the star plasma vessel- wanted. They went canoeing, got lunch and visited the aquarium. It all made Kugutsu uncomfortable. This whole day had made her uncomfortable. This was supposed to be the most harrowing mission of her career. This mission is what stood between her and execution. And they spent the day doing the equivalent of frolicking through fields. But Riko Amanai was happy, as were Geto and Gojo. So she could manage.

It was after Riko and Kuroi had gone to bed. The warm glow of the evening sun fading, and the soft hum of Okinawa’s nocturnal creatures had begun to fill the air. The trio sat on the edge of their rented beach house’s porch, a faint breeze drifting in from the ocean, but there was tension in the air that the gentle waves couldn’t wash away. Gojo leaned back in his chair, shoulders stiff, his white hair disheveled, a stark contrast to his usual effortless composure. His Six Eyes flickered constantly—his cursed energy reserves stretched thin from the prolonged strain. He smiled, but it was tight, unnatural.

“Gojo, you know you can take a break right? I can do surveillance for the night. Might not be as good as your magic eight ball eyes, but you can rest.”

Gojo made an indignant noise “Please. I’m fine. I’m on cruise control.” 

But Kugutsu could see the cracks. His cursed energy, usually effortless in its stability, fluttered and spiked at odd intervals. His posture, just slightly too loose, his usual bravado masking something heavier beneath. It wasn’t exhaustion in the way normal people felt it– Gojo was beyond that.

But he was stretched thin.

“Can you at least let me enhance your cursed energy. I can’t do it too much if I still want to have energy for the merger but I can at least give you a pick-me-up for tonight.” 

Gojo and Geto exchanged a glance. Again. Kugutsu’s fingers curled slightly against the wooden porch, the repetition gnawing at her patience. They had been doing that all day– silent conversations, unreadable expressions, something lurking behind their usual confidence. It wasn’t uncommon for them, but today…

“What’s up with you too? You both get weird whenever I talk about the merger. What gives?”

Again a glance. A pause. Something unspoken.

“Kugutsu,” Geto began, slowly. “Me and Satoru have been thinking.”

Kugutsu raised an eyebrow at Geto’s cautious tone. It was rare for him to sound so hesitant. She shifted in her seat, her posture immediately alert, sensing that something was about to shift. The tension had been hanging in the air all day, but now, as the last light of day slipped beneath the horizon, it felt almost tangible, like a storm about to break.

“What will you do if Riko doesn’t want to be merged with Master Tengen?”

The air between them shifted, the warmth of the day fading into something cold and sharp. She looked at Geto first, then Gojo– searching for a joke, a smirk, something that would tell her this was one of their games.

But they weren’t joking.

They were serious.

And that realization sent a deep, nauseating dread curling in her stomach. 

She leaned forward slightly, instinctively bracing herself for what was to come. "What do you mean, ' if Riko doesn’t want to be merged with Master Tengen '?" she asked, her voice steady but with an underlying edge of disbelief.

“We are going to give her a choice.” Geto finished, coolly.

Kugutsu stared at him, waiting for something else, an explanation, a justification, a sign that he had lost his mind. But he just looked back at her, steady and sure, like he had already played this conversation out in his head a thousand times. Like he had already made his decision.

“She doesn’t have   a choice Geto,” Kugutsu looked at them exasperated, “What? Do you want all of jujutsu society to crumble?”

Gojo made an indignant noise, something cruel from the back of his throat “Suguru, I told you this is how she'd react. Just another one of the higher ups' playthings.”

Geto went to speak but Kugutsu interrupted, anger flaring at her core.

“You two aren’t the ones getting executed if this doesn’t go well.”

“Who cares!” Gojo scoffed. “They can say whatever they want but if you’re strong enough they can’t kill you. You never could quite shake off being a lap dog huh?” 

Kugutsu stood up, glaring daggers at him. “Not all of us have the privilege you do, Gojo.”

Gojo rose to meet her, stepping closer, his height casting a shadow over her. His grin sharpened into something mean, something mocking. His Six Eyes bore into her, dissecting her, seeing straight through her.

“Bark.”

Geto intervened . He stepped between them smoothly, placing a hand on each of their chests and physically pushing them apart. His grip was firm, a silent warning.

But Kugutsu wasn’t done.

“Sure yeah. I’ll bark.” Her voice was sharp, bitter. Her breath was unsteady. “But don’t you fucking get it? I am a dog. We ALL are. We're all dogs raised and bred for murder. We can snap all we want at our leash but we can't bite through. Don't you see it? I don’t wanna kill a fucking kid– are you kidding me?” 

Her voice cracked, but she forced it back down. “You are lucky Gojo. You can fucking break through your leash but dont you dare talk to me like I’m not trying. I don't have that luxury. You protect those you want to. That's fine, but you’ve made it crystal clear I am not in those select few. I’m doing what I have to do.”

Her breathing was uneven, her body taut like a bowstring ready to snap. Gojo’s smirk faltered, just for a fraction of a second. Then it was back, but the sharp edges of it were duller now, less certain.

Geto’s hands remained firm on both of them, his expression unreadable. Then he spoke, cautiously, as if to a wounded animal.

“We could help, Kugutsu. I mean if they try and kill you we would step in.”

“I don't want  to be another thing on your list to protect. I want to be able to do it. I want to have worth and value not brought along because of a whim.”

She lifted her gaze, meeting Geto’s eyes first, then Gojo’s. "If I can’t stand on my own, then what’s the point? Isn’t that what you two have been telling me this whole time?"

Silence came between the three. Gone was the fun in the sun. Gone was the time for play. As with everything, they had returned to their rightful place. 

Geto and Gojo on one side- skyscrapers, untouchable, casting long shadows.

Kugutsu on the other- an ant, looking up, straining, trying her best.

Kugutsu was a fool for thinking it would change. She couldn’t fault the two boys. Their morals were sound, they were doing the right thing– Kugutsu just… couldn’t allow it. She couldn’t allow for this to happen. Rules, discipline, it was too ingrained into the fabric of her being. How could she rip out her own insides? What would she be without it?. It would mean that all of what she has endured so far was for nothing.

Kugtsu’s voice came out quietly, without anger or fear. 

“Fight Me.”

“What?” Gojo blinked, heavy confusion settling in on his features.

Kugutsu didn’t move. Didn’t raise her fists. Didn’t shift her stance. She simply stared at them, waiting.

“Fight. Me.”

Geto sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Come on. Don’t be ridiculous."

“I’m not.”

Gojo leaned forward, his usual nonchalance nowhere to be found “You’re serious? You want to take us both on?”

"You win," she said, her voice measured, steady. "Then I did everything I could to stop you from putting this mission in jeopardy."

She took a slow step forward.

"I win, then the mission goes as intended. And that’s final."

The wind rolled in from the ocean, pulling at the edges of their clothes. Geto and Gojo shared another glance. Frustration and confusion giving way to understanding. They knew Kugutsu was smart. They knew she knew this wasn’t a winning strategy. She was analytical, tactical. She didn’t throw herself into battles she had no chance of surviving. But that wasn’t what this was about. She knew she would lose. She wasn’t fighting to win. She was going to fight them because it was the only way she knew to surrender. If obedience was her nature, she would let her nature destroy her.

Gojo sighed dramatically, stretching his arms above his head. " Shit. I really don’t wanna beat the crap out of you, Play-Doh ."

Geto exhaled, his expression softer than before. " You’re sure about this? "

Kugutsu bowed, deep and considerate. A smile adorning her features.

“Suguru, Satoru. Thank you.” She straightened, her voice profound in its simplicity. “Let’s have a good fight.”

It was the first time she had used their first names. It felt important. It felt like the only way she could convey how grateful she was that they would take her seriously. It was strange to bond over the prospect of getting beat up by the two strongest sorcerers, but Kugutsu had experienced stranger things.

Gojo rolled his shoulders “If you’re asking for it. I’m not going easy on you.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less.” Kugutsu said smiling. 

Geto settled into his fighting stance “We have important business tomorrow. Let's not waste any more time.”

Kugutus did the same. And then she moved.

She dashed across the sandy beach to meet Geto, hoping to take control of his cursed energy as quickly as possible. But he was familiar with her tricks, ducking and weaving– much in the same way she would– to avoid getting touched by her. He summoned two cursed spirits to grab her legs, but she sidestepped, forgoing her onslaught on Geto to try and use his cursed spirits against him.

But they dissipated right as her hands were about to make contact.

“Really thought I’d be that easy?” Geto remarked.
Kugutsu couldn’t help the grin that split across her face. She charged back in, regaining her footing against Geto. She wasn’t as skilled of a fighter as Geto, but she had learned from him. And she knew how much he hated when she messed with his cursed energy.

But a flare of cursed energy erupted from her right.

“You don’t get to have all the fun, Suguru.” 

Before she could react, Gojo’s Blue erupted toward her from behind. With a sharp pivot, she used Geto as a shield, angling herself so the blast would miss her. Gojo’s aim was perfect, but Kugutsu knew that if it was Geto between her and his Blue , Gojo wouldn’t go full throttle.

The blast slammed into a summoned spirit instead, leaving both of them unscathed.

“Better aim next time, Satoru?” Geto yelled indignantly.

“Sure thing!” Gojo replied, his tone light but with an edge Kugutsu hadn’t heard before.

Her grin widened, her blood humming with the challenge now. 

Her eyes flicked toward Gojo, who had stepped into the fray with his usual, cocky demeanor.  “So, where’s that punch you promised me, Play-Doh?”

Then everything moved at once.

Kugutsu ducked and weaved, her body dancing between their strikes. Each attack came faster, more intense, but she was more focused, her mind sharpened to a knife's edge. She took hits, yes, but she was adapting and learning from each one, adjusting her movements to counter them. 

She feinted a knee at Gojo before redirecting with a palm toward Geto’s chest. If she could touch him, she could control him. She could dominate him if only for a second. Her fingers brushed against his cursed energy before she was yanked back. A sharp knee to her gut knocked the wind out of her, sending her crashing to the ground with brutal force.

She tried to push herself up, but a boot pressed down, heavy and final.

“Game over, Play-Doh.”

Kugutsu’s breath came in sharp, strained bursts. For a moment, she stayed still, the weight of Gojo’s boot pressing down on her chest, forcing her into the sand. She could feel her heartbeat slamming against her ribs, but the thrill hadn’t left her yet. She waited. Counted the exact second the weight lifted.

Then she moved. Her body exploded into action, pure reflex, pure instinct. A punch, fast and wild, cracked against Gojo’s jaw.

Gojo’s head snapped to the side, his body momentarily frozen in shock. His usually composed demeanor cracked for just a split second as his feet stumbled. His eyes widened, the rare vulnerability flashing through them before he snapped back into focus, but not before his lip curled in a smirk. The punch had stung .

Yes, his Infinity was down. Yes, he was exhausted. Yes, she caught him off guard. But even so–

“One punch, just like the doctor ordered.”

“Well, shit, Play-Doh, I didn’t know you had that in you.”

Kugutsu’s eyes locked on him, her chest heaving with adrenaline. The grin that stretched across her face was wild, triumphant, even if futile. She scrambled back, putting space between herself and the two giants of Jujutsu, her pulse thundering in her ears. 

They shared a glance, both of them registering the significance of her defiance.

“We aren’t trying to kill you, Kugutsu. The fights over.” Geto spoke softly.

“If you kill me you kill me. But I’m not staying down unless you make me.” 

She felt alive. Alive. Alive. Alive . Alive . Alive . Alive . 

The two giants of sorcery changed tactics. Instead of one confronting her head on while the other kept their distance, they both worked in tandem to box her out. Using Gojo’s Blue and Geto’s cursed spirits to force her to focus purely on dodging their onslaught without getting close. Every attack forced Kugutsu to move, leap, twist in ways that strained her already damaged body. They knew what she could do if she got a hold of their cursed energy. It wasn’t enough to win but it was annoying as hell. She liked that. She liked being annoying as hell to these giants. Annoying was good.

She had fallen more times than she could count. Her body in pain sprawled out against the sand. And each time she stood back up, dusting the sand off her bruised body and jumped right back into the frey. Each time, Gojo and Geto would share a look– frustration, resignation, mixed with the tiniest bit of respect. Then they would take it up a notch and the battle field would change again. In the war of attrition, Kugutsu was losing, and fast. Yet pure spite kept her body going. She had never felt better.

Geto was the first to close the gap. Kugutsu was so used to his distance that his sudden appearance took her by surprise. Surprise that Geto was quick to take advantage of. His fists slammed into her repeatedly taking the wind out of her. Her thoughts frayed but one thought remained. Touch him. Touch him. Touch him.

Geto's movements were swift, calculated, and designed to evade her, but Kugutsu was relentless. Kugutsu opened herself up for another one of Geto’s strikes. It was fine if she got hit so long as she also got a lick in. And she did. Geto’s strike was hard, overwhelming, but Kugutsu finally got it. It surged through her like electricity, vibrant and chaotic, and she pulled at it, twisting it into her own. 

Her control over his energy was a thing of desperation and brilliance. Each time he attempted to create space, she reeled him back, bending his cursed energy to her will as if she were playing a cruel, macabre symphony. Her body was a puppeteer, tugging on strings of power she shouldn’t have been able to reach, pushing through the pain, through the exhaustion. It wasn’t perfect. Her control over his cursed energy was fleeting. One or two moments of brilliance followed by another round of punishment from the more skilled fighter. Everytime she got hit, a rush of adrenaline filled her. It was incredible.

Cursed energy surged familiarly from her left. Gojo was shooting another Blue . It was right between them its goal simple: make Kugutsu break her connection. But she didn’t want to. She worked so hard to get Geto. 

The Blue came towards them–

Something in Kugutsu clicked.

This Blue . It was made of cursed energy. Satoru Gojo’s cursed energy. 

She could touch his cursed energy.  Even from here… maybe.

She shoved her hand forward, not to block but to take. She could control it. If she could take it. Kugutsu shoved her hand into this swirling mass of cursed energy. Her body floating off the ground with its magnetic pull. Somewhere in there was Gojo’s cursed energy. She would never be able to control him normally but through a conduit? Through something outside of him? Could she match him? She could. She could. She could.

A mantra, a prayer, as she expanded her senses trying to control the superhuman force of his cursed energy. She felt like time froze as her power rushed to meet his. She molded her cursed energy to match his, filling the ridges and holes the only mark that Satoru Gojo was human and not some god. 

His cursed energy felt just like that. Like infinity. Like divinity. Like trying to comprehend the vastness of the universe. It was light, pure bright light. Her body was exhausted, her mind fraying, but the sense of control she had over Gojo’s cursed energy, a force that should have been beyond her reach in normal circumstances, was intoxicating. For a fleeting moment, she was aware of how delicate this balance was. And then she pulled. She pushed all of that energy away from his head, away from his Infinity.

Gojo’s reaction was instant. His eyes narrowed, focusing intently on her, no longer the playful, cocky sorcerer she was used to. This was the real Satoru Gojo, the one who understood how dangerous she could be when she got this close. His defenses were down. She had done it. She dropped to the ground with a thud as Blue dissipated. 

Kugutsu turned towards Gojo, to follow up on her progress. And then– just like that– the illusion of dominance shattered. 

A sharp pain erupted in her chest, and Kugutsu gasped, her connection to Gojo’s cursed energy severed like a guillotine. She staggered, her body crumbling under the strain, the force of the Blue still lingering in the air around her. She collapsed to the sand, gasping for air, her body shaking violently from the effort. Her hands, which had held Gojo’s cursed energy with such desperation, were now trembling as if they had been burnt by the sheer power of it. 

The sensation lingered– something hot and raw, like trying to grasp lightning and being left with nothing but the static humming in her bones. She flexed her fingers, but they were sluggish, unresponsive, the ghost of his cursed energy still pulsing beneath her skin. The Blue she took head on certainly didn’t help the pulsing in her head. The world around her spun, tilting with each uneven breath. Her ribs ached, her limbs heavy, but none of it could overpower the realization settling in her chest.

She had touched Gojo’s cursed energy. Like actually touching it, controlling it for a second.

The thought was absurd, impossible, exhilarating.

And despite it all, as she trembled– in pain and numb all at the same time— and couldn’t help but laugh. A real laugh, a little manic, breaking past bloodied lips and splitting through the silence like a fault line. It rattled out of her, unsteady and breathless, the sound of someone teetering on the edge of something they weren’t sure they could name.

“You win.” Kugutsu whispered, her voice hoarse. Her vision was blurred, sweat and blood streaking down her face, but she could still make them out. Geto and Gojo, standing over her, framed by the endless sprawl of the night sky.

Gojo crouched first, resting his elbows lazily on his knees, grinning down at her like she was something fascinating. “You’re really smiling after that ass-kicking?” His lip was split where she’d hit him, but if it hurt, he didn’t show it. If anything, he looked pleased.

She tilted her head back against the sand, inhaling sharply before exhaling slow, feeling the weight of the fight settle deep into her bones.

“My body won’t let me. I want to keep going. That was fun.” 

Geto exhaled through his nose, shaking his head, but there was no real exasperation in it. If anything, there was something close to amusement in the way he looked at her now.

“You really are insane,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

Kugutsu let out another weak laugh, more air than sound, her fingers twitching against the sand. Her vision was starting to blur at the edges, the rush of adrenaline bleeding out of her system, leaving nothing but exhaustion and the deep, gnawing ache of a body pushed far past its limits. Her limbs felt weightless, foreign, like they no longer belonged to her.

“You win.” Tears mixed in with the laughter. Her voice was softer now. It was clear her mind wasn’t all there.

“I’m still mad about it. Rematch… later…” But there was no regret, no bitterness, only the lingering warmth of battle still humming in her bones, refusing to let go.

Until her body couldn’t take it anymore. 

Gojo and Geto stood over her, the night stretching wide and endless behind them. There was no fear of her dying. No one in this battle had been aiming to kill. But there was only so much the body would take before it demanded rest.

Geto exhaled through his nose, arms still crossed. His gaze lingered on her for a long moment, unreadable. 

“She really doesn’t know when to quit.”

Gojo huffed out something between a scoff and a laugh. His grin had faded into something smaller, something more thoughtful. His fingers brushed against his split lip, as if still surprised that she had managed to land a hit at all.

“I hope some of those hits rearranged her brain chemistry. Maybe she’ll wake up with a brain up there.”

Chapter Text

Kugutsu woke up feeling weightless, as if the bruises littering her body had no meaning, as if the ache in her limbs wasn’t a reminder of the fight but something softer, something precious. The sunlight streaking through the window felt sharper, more real, like it was illuminating something she had yet to understand. The soft sound of waves crashing against the shore seemed to be calming in a way they had never been before. She would hold onto this memory dearly.

Today’s the day , Kugutsu thought, feeling a wave of clarity wash over her. She moved slowly, almost languidly, as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stretched. Her muscles protested in the aftermath of exertion, but it was the good kind of pain, the kind that reminded her she was still alive. 

Without much thought, she reached for her phone on the nightstand. There, lying next to it, was a folded piece of paper. The edges were slightly crinkled, as if it had been left in a hurry.

Her fingers froze for a moment before she unfolded it, her eyes scanning the simple message scrawled across it in messy handwriting:

“We Win.” 

Accompanied by a little doodle of Gojo sticking his tongue out.

Kugutsu moved throughout their rented property like a tornado. But the stillness of the empty space swallowed every frantic breath, and the truth settled heavy in her gut. They had left her. Those bastards had left her behind. They had fucking. left. her . Her fists slammed against the nearest wall, the sound echoed throughout the empty house. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered right now except the fury bubbling inside her chest.

She took a deep breath. They were probably just trying to spare her feelings. Trying to keep her safe from her impending execution. If worse came to worse Kugutsu could claim they beat her up and then ran off with the vessel. She took another deep breath. She had lost. This was her punishment. She looked at the plate left on the dining room table with another little note.

“At least have breakfast before you chase after us. –Suguru”

Kugutsu took another deep breath. They were just doing what they felt they needed to, but it did complicate things. If Riko did decide to go through with the merger and she wasn’t there… then what? It's possible she could merge with Tengen without Kugutsu there but it's also equally possible that something goes wrong. That was the entire point of her even being with them during the mission. They didn’t assign her to protect the vessel. She was here to familiarize herself with the girl’s cursed energy and merge her with Tengen.

Kugutsu checked the plate, finding it still a little warm. They couldn’t be too far. She could still get to them, maybe a couple of minutes after them if she was lucky with flights. Should she? 

It didn’t matter. 

She was seeing this mission to the end with her own two hands. She took the breakfast to go and found the fastest plane back home. If these bastards were serious they better know she's chasing them down.

It takes about two and a half hours to get from Okinawa to Tokyo by plane. Which meant that if Kugutsu’s estimates were correct she couldn’t be more than 20 minutes behind them, assuming they took the plane that took off for Tokyo just before hers. 

Twenty minutes was nothing. 

Twenty minutes was everything. 

And as Kugutsu stood at the base of Mount Mushiro, staring at the devastation before her, she realized just how much a handful of minutes could destroy. Something big had happened here. Satoru Gojo levels of big. Shattered buildings sat in ruins, their skeletal remains jutting out like jagged teeth. Some had been reduced to nothing but dust and charred rubble, while others barely held themselves aloft, the smell of powdered cement mixing with the metallic tang of blood that stained the pavement.

There was no telling how much time had passed since the battle ended– only that it was recent enough for the stench of blood and destruction to still hang thick in the air.

Something had gone terribly terribly wrong. 

She rushed forward, examining the remnants of destruction for any clues as to what might have occurred here. Then she sensed it, a swarm of small weak curses all hovering around the same area. Maybe they were Geto’s doing? She rushed towards them, unintentionally finding what must have been the heart of the battle. A large swarm of flyheads hovered around a platform in the center of a large crater. 

It was strange for so many weak curses to linger together in this way. 

She made her way towards the center, killing the curses as she went. The smell of blood got stronger and stronger as she approached. Maybe that is what is drawing all these curses here , she mused lightly.

Then she saw it. A flash of white– no, red, soaked through, matted with blood. His blood. She forced herself to look, to really look. The Six Eyes, dull and glassy, devoid of that impossible, infuriating light. His throat carved open, his body split down the center as if something divine had decided to unmake him. Satoru Gojo was dead.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” Kugutsu repeated rapidly, kneeling next to his corpse. Blood splattered around him, oozing freely from his body. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to Satoru. Not to him. He was supposed to be untouchable. He was supposed to be the strongest. He was a god among men.

Kugutsu looked around, quickly scanning the area for Geto. If Gojo is here, Geto has to be somewhere nearby . But there was nothing. She turned her attention back to him. She scanned his body, trying to figure out what did this to him. What information could she gather? Would she need to fight the perpetrator? Could she win if Gojo didn’t? What could she learn? What could she see?

She took a deep breath to calm herself. Now is not the time for panic , she thought. She closed her eyes and expanded her senses trying to feel out for different cursed energy signals in the area.

What surprised her was not finding a new energy signal, but sensing ever so faintly Gojo’s familiar signal. He somehow still had cursed energy? Was– was he not dead? Surely he must be with these injuries.

What could she do? If she moved him he would most certainly die. If she called someone he would certainly die by the time they got here. If he wasn’t dead already. But if nothing changed… he would also die. She didn’t know the first thing about first aid. Would he become a cursed spirit? Some awful thing that would wreak havoc? Gojo was already a problem as a human sorcerer… devoid of his humanity, what could he become? The thought sent another layer of dread rolling through Kugutsu’s heart.

She did the only thing she could. Her hands pressed against his chest, slipping in his blood, shaking with something deeper than exhaustion. His cursed energy was still there– flickering, weak, but there. And if it was there, it could be reignited. She molded herself to him, adjusted her flow, matched her cursed energy to his in a delicate, dangerous dance. Too much force would crush him. Too little, and he’d fade out for good. The margin for error was razor-thin, and Kugutsu had never been more afraid of making a mistake. Her ability couldn’t heal. She knew that. But it was this or… sit around and watch him die. She couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do that.

Molding to his cursed energy was a lot easier than she had expected. His supply was so low that even the difference in strength that would usually prevent her wasn’t a problem. What was important was not overwhelming it. Much like trying to build a fire, too much oxygen will snuff it out. Too little wont spark. Too few twigs wont catch. Too many will bury it. She coaxed the energy with her own, trying to bring it back to life, back to its full potential.

Her palms burned under the strain, under the precise control she was forced to maintain. One wrong move and Satoru Gojo was dead, at her hands. His usually immense cursed energy snuffed out under her fingertips. Unbidden, the Shidai Conduit’s metallic weight pressed onto her like a phantom pain. Her memories of her weakness dancing between the designs of her palms. She could crush the strongest sorcerer alive, just like she had the Kamo clan’s precious relic.

No. No– Not again.

She was better now.

She still felt the aches and pains of her fight with him and Geto last night, using them as proof of her journey. Proof that she was alive and had developed as a sorcerer. Despite the pain, she was honestly grateful she decided to be stupid and take Blue straight to the face. It had allowed her some more familiarity with Gojo’s cursed energy. If she hadn’t… she didn’t want to imagine how much more strain it would have put on her. She didn’t think she could take that kind of pressure.

Kugutsu couldn’t begin to understand just how long she sat there, slowly working with Gojo’s cursed energy. It could have been a minute or hours. But to her it felt like a slow, arduous thing. Every step of the way was just as important as the last. Every step just as risky. Every twitch of her aching self something that could destroy the boy before her.

Just when Kugutsu was about to give up, the world reacted, almost as if to mock her dismissal. The blood that had pooled around them seemed to thrum in response to the cursed energy, almost as if it were alive, working in harmony with her efforts. The wounds on Gojo’s body began to twitch, his skin knitting back together, thread by thread, like a delicate, impossible tapestry woven by invisible hands. 

His hand twitched. Then twitched again, more pronounced this time. Kugutsu’s breath caught in her throat. She was not the one doing this. She was making his cursed energy stronger, building it brick by brick. But her technique couldn’t accomplish this. It was impossible. 

Suddenly, Gojo woke up with a start, raising a hand to his forehead, his eyes looking around manically.

“Gojo?” Kugutsu called out, cautiously.

Then, without warning, he moved. Too fast. Too strong for someone who had been a corpse just moments ago. His hands clamped around her head, fingers digging into her scalp with a force that sent lightning through her skull. His grip was iron, unrelenting, his grin stretched too wide, too sharp. His eyes- unfocused, feverish– didn’t look at her so much as through her.

“Satoru, are you alright?”

Despite the intensity of his grip, she didn’t move. She didn’t dare pull away. She had no idea what had happened to him. 

“Never better, Play-Doh! I finally mastered the Reverse Cursed Technique! I didn’t think I'd have enough time with how weak my cursed energy supplies were but then you came! I was already working on multiplying– ”

Kugutsu had never seen Gojo like this. He was always intense but this was on another level. “What the hell are you saying?”

But he kept rambling on. She knew that when she amplified someone's cursed energy it could have some adverse emotional effects– she would liken them to a kind of high– but not like this. Never like this. 

“You aren’t making any sense. You– you were basically dead. What happened?”

Something she said caught his attention. He blinked rapidly, his wide grin never fading, though his eyes were distant, like they weren’t really seeing her at all. His grip on her head tightened again, but it wasn’t out of malice— more like some overwhelming need to hold onto something, anything. His fingers dug into her scalp, but she stayed still. 

“I died?” Gojo repeated, as if the concept was foreign to him. His head tilted as he laughed again, though it was more of a breathless rasp. “Oh, Play-Doh, I wasn’t dead. I was reborn. I did it. I reversed it all—death, destruction, everything. It was only a matter of time before I cracked it. It was only difficult if–”

Kugutsu squirmed under the weight of his gaze. Under the wright of the words that kept falling from his lips unbidden. “Who did this to you?”

His rambling stopped again, but the look in his eyes didn’t leave him. He stood up, finally releasing her head, gazing at the sky as if he found enlightenment there. Then without another word, he walked off. He didn’t stumble or falter. Not the walk of a man who was almost dead to the world. Just Satoru, a man who looked like he had just spoken to god. Or maybe become one.

She stood up from her own kneeling position and didn’t dare follow. Kugutsu didn’t know where he was going, but something told her that wherever that was she wouldn’t be able to follow. Like a king ascending to a throne she could never touch.

She turned, now to find Geto and hopefully Amanai. She didn’t know how much hope she had for them still being alive considering the state she found Gojo in but she had to try. Before anything she texted Shoko, informing her of what was going on and to bring medical staff quickly. 

Kugutsu was not having a good day. She should’ve been numb to it by now. But when she found Geto, torn apart like a paper doll, her breath still hitched. The blood pooling around him was almost peaceful, still warm beneath her trembling hands. The second corpse of the day. Oddly familiar now. Like a mirror version of her encounter with Gojo.

She rushed over to him, feeling his cursed energy. It was still there. Steady. Calm. As her hand approached his throat to clumsily check for a pulse his hand reached up to grab her wrist. 

“Geto, it's me.”

His hand relaxed, he moved to speak but ended up coughing up blood. 

Kugutsu’s heart raced as she pressed the torn cloth against Geto's wounds, her mind spinning with conflicting thoughts. The blood was still flowing freely from his chest, but the pressure from the cloth seemed to slow it down, if only just. He wasn’t in as dire a position as Gojo but the knowledge didn’t make the sight any better.

“Satoru?” His voice barely made it past his lips, rough and strained like it hurt to even exist.

“He’s alive.”

Geto exhaled, slow, deliberate. His fingers twitched against the dirt. Relief? Exhaustion? Something in between?

“Amanai?” Kugutsu knew the answer before he even said it, but the silence stretched anyway, heavy and unkind.

“Dead.”

A somber moment passed between the two. Kugutsu didn’t have to ask. She knew what kind of dead he was talking about. Not erased, just dead. The normal kind. Not the kind that meant the mission went well. Not the kind that meant Kugutsu wasn’t going to be executed. Not the kind that meant Riko Amanai could run off with the two most powerful sorcerers to live her life.

The kind of dead that was the worst case scenario. Nobody wins.

“Shoko should be on her way. You’ll be fine if you stay awake.”

Geto nodded weakly. 

“The– the mission is over then.” Kugutsu spoke softly, reaching a bloodsoaked hand into her pocket. She pulled out the same Hanafuda card. The one she had promised to give back to him when she was done. Back when they didn’t know he would be on the mission too or who Riko Amanai was. 

“Don’t want you walking around missing one.” She muttered softly.

Geto blinked, sluggish, his gaze locking onto the card like it was some strange artifact, some mystery he couldn’t quite solve in his current state. His fingers twitched, but he didn’t reach for it.

“Keep it.” 

“But– but the whole point was for me to return it-”

“The whole point was to give you something to live for. You’re passed that. Aren’t you?”

She blinked at him. “Yeah. I think I am.” Kugutsu paused in thought but there was nothing else to say. 

“So keep it. I can always buy another deck”

“Okay… okay.”

It wasn’t long after that Shoko Ieri came to do what she did best- heal the wounded, patch up what could be salvaged. Kugutsu stayed long enough to watch the steady rise and fall of Geto’s chest, enough to be sure that he would live. To see it with her own eyes even though she knew that would be the case.

Then, the moment shattered.

The first sign was the sound of footsteps– measured, heavy, purposeful. Not the frantic scurrying of medics, not the desperate scrambling of survivors. This was something else.

Kugutsu barely had time to react before a rough hand seized her arm, yanking her up from where she had been kneeling beside Geto. She didn't struggle– not because she didn't want to, but because something deep in her bones had already accepted this inevitability. As soon as she walked in the gates and Amanai was dead… she knew this would happen. She had been so absorbed in the blood soaked tension of the corpses she had knelt besides that she had forgotten.

But she always knew. The punishment for failure was death.

Two sorcerers flanked her on either side, their grips firm, unyielding. They didn’t speak, didn’t explain, didn’t need to. She knew what this was. She knew what they were going to do.

Her body ached, every nerve screaming protest, but she didn’t resist. What was the point? She could fight. She could struggle. She could waste whatever little strength she had left clawing at a system that had never been built for her to win.

Even now, her instincts- those same instincts that had kept her alive all this time- were whispering at her to comply, to follow orders, to be a good girl. Discipline and obedience.

But there was something else known. Something that had she been in a better frame of mind. Had her body hurt less and exhaustion set in less. She would have tried. And that was enough for Kugutsu. 

"Wait-!" Geto’s voice cracked, raw from pain and blood loss, but the desperation in it was unmistakable. Kugutsu turned her head just slightly, just enough to see him trying- and failing- to push himself upright. His fingers clawed at the dirt, dragging weak furrows through blood-soaked soil as he forced himself to move. It was barely anything. But it was something. 

"It’s fine, Geto." Her voice was quiet, steady. 

A beat of silence.

She dropped the card between them, letting it flutter down onto the bloodied ground. Geto’s hazy eyes tracked the movement, but Kugutsu was already smiling- wide, too wide, the kind of grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes but still refused to be anything less than certain.

"I’m not done yet," she said, voice lighter than it had any right to be. "So hold onto that for me, yeah? When I get out of this, I want it back."

The hands on her arms tightened. That was the last bit of sympathy the sorcerers behind her gave. No pause. No moment to let her words settle. Just a rough tug forward, the cold press of cursed seals against her wrists as they bound her, tight and absolute.

She didn’t bother asking where they were taking her. She already knew. 

That was the deal, wasn’t it? She agreed to it.

She had agreed.

Kugutsu Sone didn’t expect to have much time left. She hadn’t had the privilege of time in quite a while. Every second focused on one singular goal. Every second pushing herself towards salvation. Look where it got her.

A boot slammed into her chest, rattling the chair’s legs against the wooden floor.

Lanterns cast a warm, flickering glow across the cramped room, their light catching on talismans strung along the walls. If she weren’t getting the shit beaten out of her, Kugutsu might have even called it cozy.

Her arms were pinned behind her back, manacles choking the flow of her cursed energy. Kugutsu noted, fleetingly, how blind that made her feel. She was so used to observing the world through its cursed energy that without it everything felt dull. Like something was missing. Like if you woke up one day and suddenly a color was gone from the world.

A fist wrenched her braids back, yanking her head up so fast her neck screamed in protest. The pull was merciless, sharp pain needling along her scalp, but she lifted her head anyway, if only to take some of the strain off her roots.

“Who are you working for?”

This is what so much hard work had gotten her.

“Why did you attack the jujutsu sorcerers on the mission with you?”

A blade kissed her collarbone, dragging just deep enough to spill warm blood down her chest. It hit the wooden floor with an ugly splat.

“What is the extent of your cursed technique?”

A sharp kick struck her kneecap, jolting white-hot pain up her thigh.

“Why did you attack three members of the Kamo Clan?”

Kugutsu didn’t bother responding– or rather repeating herself. She had already answered their questions and they simply wouldn’t take her at her word. What was the point in begging? In repeating herself over and over and over. What would it accomplish? They were going to hurt her anyway. It's what they wanted in the first place. The trial and the information were just the formalities to get them here. To take revenge for making their clan look foolish.

This was routine now. They would come in, ask, hurt, leave. Always in the same places, the ones that wouldn’t leave obvious marks. Always expecting her to break, and always leaving disappointed. She had lost track of the hours. Maybe days. Maybe longer. The whole Star Plasma Vessel failure had sent the higher ups into a frenzy, so the formality of her trial before execution wasn’t a priority.

Despite the lack of priority. Her time came like it would for all. 

She wasn’t sure where the room she was in actually was, nor did she know exactly where she was being dragged to. It was disorienting in its own way. All she knew was that her hands were tied around her back, palms pressed tightly together to remove any chance of her touching anyone. Not that it would matter with the way her cursed energy was being blocked. Talismans designed to contain a sorcerer’s abilities, to reduce them down to nothing. Cloth was tied tightly around her mouth– she had nothing to say to anyone.

Her gaze was downcast, locked on her shoes as she walked. This was humiliating. Kugutsu was in most regards a humble individual– she didn’t aggrandize herself to anything bigger than what was true. Her feats were small but respectable. But this would have been humiliating to anyone. To march to her death through these familiar, empty halls was sickening. This was about making a show of her. A message to all– what happens when you cross one of the big three clans.

But she wasn’t the same person she was last time.

She struggled against the rough hands that held her, just enough to fix her posture. She wasn’t going to walk across these halls looking like an inmate. Like some criminal. She would walk as if she knew she was going to win when she wouldn’t. She straightened her spine and raised her head high. Her eyes alight with quiet defiance that she never had before. It was all about showmanship, right? This whole trial was a show for everyone else. She wouldn’t cower– despite the fear and the dread. She didn’t want to die.

She almost wished she didn’t raise her gaze. Nanami and Haibara stared at her in shock. She recalled, faintly, not wanting to tell them a lot about her situation. She didn’t want them involved or accidentally incriminated by whatever she had to do. Kugutsu was sure they heard something about what happened during her first trial, but how much was anybody’s guess. Guilt rattled through Kugutsu’s chest. She had distanced herself from the two, did they resent her for it? For presenting herself only to isolate herself just as quickly?

She was pushed forward and past them. 

Then she heard it. A sharp intake of breath. She knew the culprit immediately.

Kugutsu didn’t look, but if she had she would have seen Utahime’s hands balled up at her sides. Tears hardly contained behind her need to look professional. Rage, something raw and helpless. Utahime and her weren’t very close. They barely saw each other, and talked sporadically through texts. It didn’t make the sting of it any easier. Maybe it was because she was blood family but Kugutsu felt a need to be seen positively in her presence. 

Further still, down the halls she went. 

The last person she saw before her trial, before she was shoved behind a door assumedly never to return was Suguru Geto. It was the first time Kugutsu saw him since hovering over his bloody corpse. He looked better now. Body healthy in all the right places– but his eyes. His eyes looked duller. He was looking past her rather than at her. His expression was blank as she walked by, forced into a perfect neutrality Kugutsu couldn’t stand. 

He didn’t move from his relaxed position. Didn’t frown or flinch, just stared. Kugutsu wondered what he was thinking about. Was he thinking about that too warm beach with that too sunny sky? About the waves crashing against the shore and the sound of Gojo and Riko’s joy echoing across the ocean? Was he thinking about their fight, how she layed in the sand, her laughter mad? Was he thinking about Riko Amanai’s corpse? 

The only movement from the far too stoic man was simple. Small, almost imperceptible. He reached into his pocket and from it produced a single card. A hanafuda card dipped in blood. He held it between two fingers and finally met her gaze. His message was clear.

Kugutsu’s chin raised in defiance. She stared at him until she physically couldn’t anymore. Until she was shoved behind closed doors. Until they swung behind her with a loud ominous thud. She had to hope that that was enough for Geto. Enough for him to understand what she was saying with her gaze.

I want that card back.

She was in that all too dark room. A single spotlight in its center. A laugh threatened to escape her. It was funny- in a cruel, ironic way- how familiar this room was to her. She couldn’t see anyone but she knew they were there. Behind their screens, their identities protected. With a deep breath, she made her way towards the single spotlight and the trial began.

“We’ve gathered here for the sentencing of one Kugutsu Sone after her failure to comply with what was previously agreed upon. Kamo Clan, you wanted to add something before the sentencing?”

Another voice rang out, familiar. Of course it was Hajime Kamo who spoke representing the Kamo clan.

“As previously established, Kugutsu Sone has broken an ancient relic of the Kamo Clan and as such we call for her immediate execution. However, given recent events we would like to add more information regarding her situation that we gathered .”

Kugutsu braced for what was to come.

“First,” Hajime Kamo’s voice rang through the chamber, steady and composed, but beneath it lay something sharp. Something eager. “It has come to our attention that Kugutsu Sone engaged in direct combat against Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto prior to the Star Plasma Vessel’s death. As a result, their strength was compromised when they were meant to protect the vessel. Had they not been forced to waste their energy on her, the mission may have succeeded.”

A murmur rippled through the elders.

Kugutsu inhaled slowly through her nose. So that’s how they were going to spin it. She had known they’d blame her, but hearing it aloud still made her teeth grind.

“Second,” Hajime continued, undeterred by the growing tension, “her cursed technique has proven to be an anomaly. One that is not only highly disruptive but potentially catastrophic to the foundation of jujutsu itself.”

A silence fell over the chamber, heavier than before.

“She has demonstrated the ability to dismantle a cursed object with a single touch. That alone is unprecedented. But what concerns us is the possibility of her doing the same to people. To techniques. To our very way of life.”

Kugutsu’s fingers twitched. They don’t even know if I can do that , she thought. I don't know if I can do that . It was speculation, fear-mongering at best. But fear worked. Fear moved people to act.

“She is not part of any major bloodline. No recorded ancestor has shown an ability of this nature. She is an outlier. A walking threat that we cannot afford to ignore.”

More murmurs. Some nods. Some skepticism. But enough doubt had been planted.

“And finally,” Hajime finished, voice smooth, practiced, "she attacked three members of the Kamo Clan unprovoked. Reports from our own men state that she arrived at Jujutsu High covered in their blood. We have every reason to believe that she initiated the fight.”

Kugutsu almost scoffed through the cloth gag.

“For all these reasons, we call for her immediate execution. As the injured party, we claim the right to pass judgment.”

Kugutsu resisted the urge to squirm, instead practicing perfect stillness. Her chin raised high, her eyes glaring every which way. If she was going to be killed off, she would bite off the hand of whoever touched her. She would die a proud sorcerer rather than a pitiful mess of tears.

But it didn’t come to that. 

Laughter filled the room. Loud and cacophonous. A boisterous laugh. A Satoru Gojo laugh. He walked into the room without care, hands resting in his pockets as if he hadn’t just interrupted her death sentence. Kugutsu hadn’t seen him since he was a corpse. He looked… better. His eyes a little sharper, a little more arrogant (if that was even possible). How long had it been since he was just another corpse on a cement slab?

“Sorry I’m late,” ​​he drawled, stepping into the center of the room like he owned it. “I just couldn’t miss the show.”

“Satoru Gojo–” Hajime began, his lips pressed into a fine line. “--this trial does not concern you.”

“Oh it absolutely does.” Gojo cut in, his voice still light, still easy. But there was an edge to it now, something dangerous beneath the laughter. “Last I checked I’m also on that list of injured parties, am I not?”

Silence filled the chamber. Kugutsu swallowed hard, forcing herself not to react. What the hell was he doing?

“The Kamo Clan is the injured party, we have the most grievances with her–”

“Are you actually saying that three Kamo Clan nobodies and a cursed tool are more important than the Gojo Clan Heir?” Gojo took off his sunglasses, revealing his Six Eyes , the once in a lifetime power. A clear message. 

"Please. I mean face it," Gojo continued, pushing his sunglasses back up as if the entire conversation bored him. "You want her dead because she embarrassed you. But I actually have a use for her."

A murmur rippled through the elders.

“Gojo-sama, this better not be another one of your games. I will not let something so integral be decided on a whim.”

“If she really can strip away cursed techniques, then why waste that kind of power? We’ve got plenty of rogue sorcerers running around causing problems. Wouldn’t it be convenient if we had someone who could take away their jujutsu? No need for an execution. No need for a fight. Just–” His fingers snapped for emphasis “ –poof.” 

More murmurs.

“We can not allow such an unchecked force to go around freely.”

“As far as I am aware what happens to her should be my clan’s business not anyone else's.”

Hajime's jaw tightened. “You want her under the Gojo Clan’s jurisdiction?”

“Yeah, why not? I’ll take responsibility.” Gojo stretched, cracking his neck. “If she’s such a danger, I’ll keep her on a leash myself.”

Something about the phrasing sent a shiver down Kugutsu’s spine. She didn’t know if it was intentional, but she couldn’t help but remember Gojo’s face, alight with exhaustion, on that beach saying a single word. Bark .

Gojo walked over to her, holding her chin between his two fingers.

“She has the potential to be strong, sure– even a little spooky. But are we really at a point where we can throw away competent sorcerers just because? Last I checked, we were struggling to keep up.”

Silence. The kind that made one afraid of breaking it. The kind that made one want to hold their breath and never release it for fear of being caught by the monster in the dark. 

“Oh… I see. You geezers need a demonstration. That she can be kept in line. Is that it?”

Then without hesitation. 

He hit her.

His foot slammed into her ribs, sending her sprawling against the floor. Gasps rippled through the chamber but no one moved. She tried to get up again, trying to keep her pride. Before she could even react his fist rocketed against her cheek snapping her head back. She tried to get up again but then he slammed her against the floor hard. His boot on her back, not enough to actually keep her down but enough to look like it. He leaned down his expression mocking, but his eyes met hers seriously.

“C’mon, Play-Doh,” he murmured, his voice pitched low enough that only she could hear. “Stay Down.”

Then he grabbed her by the collar, yanked her up– her arms still bound, her mouth still silenced. Powerless. He was putting her on display.

She hated him in that moment. Not for the blows. Not for the public humiliation. But because she understood. Because she knew, despite her pride, that this was mercy. Gojo was putting on a show. And that was what was going to save her life. She hated that.

“Due to her crimes against the clan it's only right we decide what to do with her. She’s property of the Gojo Clan now. That's how we solve your little problem. Unless, of course, you’d rather test your luck and take her?” The air around him crackled with cursed energy, thrumming with sheer, effortless power. He rested a hand on her shoulder, staking his claim.

The resounding silence from the Kamo Clan and the other elders was clear. That was not a fight anyone was willing to take.

“Kugutsu Sone, in light of the… decision made by the Gojo Clan and the gravity of your situation, you are offered a single alternative to execution: a binding vow, one that will bind you to Satoru Gojo and by extension the Gojo Clan. Under this vow, you will be required to obey Gojo-sama’s commands without question, serving him as his subordinate for as long as he sees fit. Should Gojo-sama deem it necessary, he may transfer this vow to another individual, at which point your allegiance will pass to them. However, this vow shall be nullified upon the death of Satoru Gojo. This vow will bind you through cursed energy, unbreakable by any means other than those expressly permitted by Gojo-sama himself. Should you choose to accept, the vow will be made immediately. Should you refuse, you will be executed forthwith.”

A glance towards Gojo told her everything she needed to know. He didn’t mean for it to get as far as a binding vow but once it was presented there wasn't really anything he could do. Telling them that wasn’t necessary would put into question his motives. She was established as dangerous. Why wouldn’t such a dangerous entity be locked in such a way? If he wanted to leash her, why not do so effectively? He didn’t have a rebuttal for this.

And so she nodded. Accepted what was to come. 

THE VERDICT OF KUGUTSU SONES TRIAL WAS AS FOLLOWS:

• Kugutsu Sone’s execution has been revoked.
• Kugutsu Sone has been officially expelled from Jujutsu High.
• Kugutsu Sone is bound to the Gojo Clan and Satoru Gojo indefinitely.

Satoru Gojo had saved her and damned her all at the same time.

Chapter Text

It had been about a year since that trial and life was succinctly different for the bound girl. Kugutsu went on whatever missions Gojo didn’t want. At least, that's how she saw it. She wasn’t getting assigned any missions, she wasn’t really a sorcerer with a grade she just… was. It was like she had been removed from society completely. Being owned by Gojo and his clan meant she was more his property than a sorcerer of her own right. So Gojo in his… kindness , sent some things to do her way.

It wasn't like he didn’t have an overabundance of missions anyway. She was grateful for that, in a strange way. It gave her something to do rather than just sit around in the Gojo Clan compound. It seemed the other clan members didn’t exactly agree with the decisions their heir had made in taking in a stray. Gojo had tried to let her keep her room at Jujutsu High, but they wouldn’t allow her there unless she was a student or worked for the school. Both of which were obviously not true anymore. 

She wanted to be mad at Gojo, but she couldn’t help but see the logic in his actions. He didn’t want her to die so by staking his claim on her and making it Gojo Clan business no one would be able to say otherwise. He was the inheritor of the Six Eyes and Limitless . He was the Clan Heir. It was a good plan. 

Kugutsu still remembered the way his face scrunched in annoyance after the trial.

“Binding Vow, huh? Not what I expected.”

Kugutsu was silent, just staring at him. He knew how she felt, how unhappy this made her.

“Well, at least it's me and not some old geezer.” Gojo chuckled, his hands still nonchalantly in his pockets.

Kugutsu’s silence stretched between them like a taut wire, fraying at the edges but refusing to snap.

Gojo, still standing in that lazy posture, rocked on his heels. “I mean, think about it, it could've been worse. Could’ve been the Kamo Clan. Or worse– Zen’in.”

Kugutsu inhaled slowly, forcing herself to stay still. Stay quiet.

He sighed dramatically when she still didn’t respond. “C’mon, Play-Doh. Don’t look at me like that.”

She blinked. Her face softened in a way that felt unnatural to herself. L:ike her body was compelled. Because it was. “Like what?”

Gojo stared at her for a second, blinking. Then, as if choosing his next words incredibly carefully,  “Like I put you in a cage.”

Her fingers twitched, but she didn’t move. “Didn’t you?”

Gojo’s smirk faltered, barely, before returning full force. “Nah. I just made sure no one else got to keep the key.”

Something bitter coiled in her stomach.

Gojo watched her for a long moment, then exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Look. I get it. You’re pissed.”

“Understatement.”

“Well, yeah.” His voice turned slightly sharper. “But what do you want me to say? That I should’ve let them kill you? That would’ve been better?”

Kugutsu’s jaw clenched.

His smirk fell away entirely now, expression unreadable. “If you’ve got a better idea, I’d love to hear it.”

She didn’t. And she hated that. 

“If it's any consolation, the only reason I did it is cause you showed off last time, not to mention I kind of owe you one for the whole cursed energy stunt you pulled on my deathbed... Plus Suguru would be sad.”

Kugutsu sighed, something deep. “Did you have to make it hurt that much?”

“That… that wasn’t great, yeah. Effective, but it really was like kicking a puppy.”

Kugutsu let out a sharp breath, not quite a laugh. But it was the only thing that filled the silence between them for a long time.

“...I’ll fix it.” Gojo spoke casually. 

“How?”

“Dunno yet. But I will.”

Then with an infuriating little wave he turned to walk away and Kugutsu followed. What else was she supposed to do now?

She shook the memory out of her head as she casually entered Gojo’s dorm room. She had just gotten back from her latest “Gojo Mission”, and was honestly too tired to knock. This routine was typical for them at this point. If Gojo got a mission that he didn’t think was worth his time or he just thought she would be good for, he would send her on it instead. It was a little awkward to explain to people that she was sent on his behalf and lots of people were disappointed they weren’t getting the clan heir himself, but Kugutsu did her job dutifully and that was that.

Gojo’s dorm was just as much a disaster as was expected by now– half-eaten snacks, crumpled mission reports, and a hoodie draped over what she hoped wasn’t an old takeout box. 

But there was no Gojo inside. Instead, Geto was lounging on the bed, casually flipping through a book with that unreadable expression of his.

“Back already Satoru– oh, Kugutsu.” Geto greeted, sitting up straighter at the sight of her. Gone was his casual comfort. His eyes quickly inspected her state. Gore clung to the edges of her body, her clothes torn and distressed. It had certainly been an eventful afternoon for the girl.

“You look well.” He continued, in that tone that while respectful, still made the sarcasm apparent.

“Mission is over so that's nice.” Kugutsu settled into the worn chair by Gojo’s desk, her hands moving mechanically as she cleaned up the scattered papers. Then she began to write, ignoring the viscera that clung to her skin and clothes. 

Geto’s eyes lingered on her, then shifted to the report she was writing. “More work for the great Satoru Gojo, I see.” His words were tinged with something Kugutsu couldn’t quite place.

“It’s better than wasting away in their compound.”

He sighed. “At least you still get to help protect people.”

Kugutsu hummed in response, continuing to work on her mission report. A silence stretched between them. So many questions but ones they already knew the answers to. 

It wasn’t always like this. Kugutsu hated it. She hated it more than she cared to admit. She missed the man who had become her mentor.  It had been a couple of months since Riko Amanai’s death and all that came after, but something about him still lingered in those days.

“So…” Kugutsu began awkwardly. “How are your missions going? I assume better than mine?”

“They’re fine. Excorsising lots of curses. Satoru is sent on his own a lot more and I guess the same is true for me.”

“If you’re lonely, maybe you can ask Gojo to let me tail you. If you need the extra hand.”

“Oh?” Geto remarked, eyebrow raising past the cover of his book.

“Yeah. It’d be nice to go on a mission with someone again.” Kugutsu remarked casually. “My technique isn't the best for going solo anyway.”

Just as Geto was about to respond, Gojo strolled right in. He swung the door open with his usual flair, kicking it shut behind him with ease. The energy in the room shifted immediately, his presence filling the space as effortlessly as always. His hands were full with an assortment of  sweets and books. 

“Suguru, I got that soda you were talking about! They had it on– oh! Play-Doh! How was it?” He set his bounty down and flopped onto the bed next to Geto, propping himself up on his elbows.

Kugutsu sighed, finishing the last few lines of her report. “It was fine.”

“Just fine? Nothing interesting?” Gojo pouted. “Come on, I sent you on that one cause it seemed right up your alley.”

“It wasn’t difficult, just boring. Tracking the curse user was super easy once I figured out his technique. Everything else was fine.” Kugutsu closed the report file unceremoniously. “Explaining to people you sent me instead of showing up yourself is getting really old though. You have a lot of fanboys.”

“I can imagine,” Gojo grinned. “I bet they make a really disappointed face. The ‘oh we wanted the cute Gojo not this passable but not as pretty replacement’.”

Kugutsu threw an eraser at his head. It bounced off Infinity lazily before he caught it midair.

“You are so annoying.”

“Better get used to it, Play-Doh.”

“Couldn’t if I tried.”

Ease settled between the three. Gojo with his antics, Geto’s occasional jibe in his direction and Kugutsu’s exasperation that was all in good fun. Geto watched them, leaning against the headboard, his book resting on his lap. His expression was relaxed, but his eyes were distant. Thoughtful.

For a moment, it felt like back before the Star Plasma Vessel. Before it all went to shit. And then–

“Hey Play-Doh, pass me that soda can.”

A simple sentence is all it took. It was casual. It was nothing. But Kugutsu felt the binding vow settle into her stomach before she even had time to think. Her body moved, hands settling over the can and extending it towards him. Automatic. Effortless. Without thought.

Everything stopped. The moment it happened the room turned to stone. The three just looked, staring at the can in Kugutsu’s hand and Gojo’s outstretched hand to receive it. The realization of what occurred slammed into each of them all at once. 

Kugutsu took a deep breath. The feeling setting onto her bones. It wasn’t a big deal. It was barely even a request. But it was enough. Enough to remind everyone of the new circumstances of her existence. 

Gojo broke the stillness first, quickly taking the can from Kugutsu. His playful grin slipped from his face, eyes widening just slightly. So fast it was barely noticeable, but Kugutsu saw it.

“...Shit.”

Geto’s jaw clenched. His eyes closed, he couldn’t even look at what had just happened.

“I didn’t mean–” Gojo continued.

“I know.” Kugutsu managed to let out a small smile. “It’s more than fine. I would've done it anyway.” She stretched her palms, unconsciously, to check if they were still hers. To make sure she could feel every inch of them.

The silence stretched. It was heavier than before. Then a book slammed shut.

“This is fucked, Satoru.” Geto seethed, his voice sharp.

Gojo sighed, running a hand down his face. “I know.” His voice was quiet but firm. “It’s not like I wanted this to happen. I fucking hate this.”

Geto didn’t answer. Just glared daggers at the floor.

“I know what this looks like.” Gojo continued, his voice growing sharper. “I know it’s wrong. But if I hadn’t done this, she’d be dead, Suguru. That was the alternative. It wasn’t ‘let’s find a better way.’ It was this, or she dies. And you know that.”

“Its fucked.” Geto repeated, his voice lacking any bite.

“I finished my report so I’ll head back to the compound. Text me if you need anything, either of you.” Kugutus stood, abruptly. “And tell the second years I’’ see them around.” With that she left the room, softly closing the door behind her.

Unbeknownst to her, the conversation behind her still continued. Behind the door she had left behind, Gojo and Geto stared in silence. 

Gojo let out a long breath, running a hand down his face before flopping backward onto the bed. He stared at the ceiling, fingers drumming against his stomach in a restless rhythm.

“If we just killed the higher-ups I could release her from the vow. Problem solved.”

Geto stared for a moment before sighing. “They’d just be replaced.”

“It might be fun.”

“Satoru.” Geto warned, even though he didn’t feel like it came from a genuine place.

“You’re right. Worse geezers would replace them.”

Geto turned the book over in his hands without really seeing it, staring at the worn edges of its pages. Gojo, for once, wasn’t talking just to fill the space. He just laid there, expression unreadable. It was rare for him to be this quiet.

“I hate it.”

“Hate what.” Geto glanced at him.

“That she listens.” Gojo spoke coolly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “I talked and talked about how she shouldn’t let herself be controlled and now look at us.”

Geto blinked.

Gojo turned his head, meeting his gaze. There was something sharp behind his usual carefree expression– something raw. Something shared between two people who were closer than anyone else.

“I didn't even think about it. I was lazy. I didn’t wanna get up.” He let out a short, bitter laugh. “It’s like when my grandpa would expect me to do shit just because it was ‘my responsibility.’ Like I didn’t have a say. Like I was just supposed to do what I was told.” His head tilted back against the pillows. “I detest it.”

“You should focus on making her strong.” Geto replied. If there was something he knew would make Gojo focus it would be this. Strength would always get him out of a slump. “People are going to come for her.”

Gojo sat up slightly, resting his arms on his knees. “Yeah. You’re right.”

It was inevitable. Even without the trial, Kugutsu had already made enemies. And now she was thrown squarely into the mix of politics, subterfuge and power hungry assholes. She was strong, but she wasn’t untouchable. People didn’t like when something unpredictable was thrown into the mix. 

Gojo had learned that lesson young.

“Then send her on some missions with me,” Geto said, watching Gojo carefully. “Some with you too. We can keep an eye out. Neither of us have enough free time outside of missions and classes to train but… some hands on experience never hurt.”

Gojo let out a slow breath, considering.

“Yeah. That makes sense.”

The Gojo Clan Compound was a sprawling estate. Traditional Japanese buildings littered an opulent garden that had been cared for meticulously. Servants and clan members walked around in traditional clothing, enjoying the crisp night air or going about their required duties. 

To say Kugutsu stood out like a sore thumb would be an understatement what with her tattered appearance and casual clothing. From her bag she produced a nice-ish robe to cover herself. It wasn’t up to the standards of the Gojo clan, but better than walking around openly covered in dirt and grime. The robe was subtle, a faded lavender with white flowers coating its edges. Simple, did its job.

Inside was no different. A maze of clean, traditional hallways that made Kugutsu feel like she was in less of a home and more of a display case. Her goal was simple: get from point a (the entrance) to point b (her room) as quickly as possible and without interruptions. Most nights she was successful but tonight–

“Kugutsu Sone. You are back later than usual.”

She inhaled slowly, relaxing the annoyed expression she couldn’t help but develop. 

“I was on a mission.”

“Ah yes. One of the ones our heir dutifully assigns you. Yes?”

Kugutsu finally turned around to observe who she was speaking to. An older woman, her hair done up in a soft but meticulous style. A blue and silver robe flowed off her shoulders regally. As Kugutsu took a step forward to leave the woman moved, gracefully stepping into her path.

“Our clan elders would like a word with you.”

“Right now? Don’t you think I should at least be able to clean up first?”

“It won't take very long.” A tight lipped smile curled onto the woman's face. 

Kugutsu remembered Gojo’s warning. How quickly and immediately he told her to be wary of the elders and their tricks. But she didn’t really have a choice now did she? What right did she have to refuse as Gojo Clan property?

“Lead the way.”

The woman raised a perfectly manicured hand to her lips. “Good girl.”  

The room she was led to was much larger than she expected. On the far side, a collection of Gojo clan elders sat in rigid silence, their eyes observing her every move. A large square was etched into the ground, some kind of training  mat, Kugutsu surmised.

The woman who led her here walked over to one of the elders, an old man befitting his title of elder only based on the amount of wrinkles on his face. He nodded without tearing his gaze away from Kugutsu. They looked a lot different than Gojo did. Most of them didn’t have his striking white hair, and those who did only had a single streak or two. None of them had his eyes either, obviously not Gojo’s lightposts for eyes, but not even just… blue. It was something she had noted in passing, but you could never be sure who was part of the bloodline and who was a servant. Here face to face with the elders it was a lot more obvious.

“Kugutsu Sone,” the elder began. “Thank you for your time.”

She remained quiet. What was she supposed to say to that? You’re welcome? I really tried hard to be here?

“We’ve been observing your missions with interest. Your cursed technique is unique. It is easy to see why it caused such a mess back at Jujutsu High. The ability to manipulate cursed energy is… new. The Gojo clan has never had such a technique.”

Translation: Your ability is ours now.

“We are interested in understanding it to its fullest extent,” continued a different elder. Slightly younger with a mole right under his left eye. “How it functions against various opponents. How it may serve the clan.”

“So… you wish for a demonstration.”

“Ah. Good, you understand quickly. A good trait.”

Another elder rang a bell from somewhere hidden beneath his too long sleeves and the door behind her opened. A man, dressed in what Kugutsu could only describe as a potato sack, walked inside. He bowed his head to the elders and then stood in the center of the room.

“Neutralize his cursed technique.”

Kugutsu’s fingers twitched beneath her sleeves. She wasn’t some circus animal. Her cursed technique was precise, not a blunt instrument to entertain the masses. But… this was relatively harmless and it’s not like she had much of an option.

“Fine, but… could I make a request before I begin.”

Silence. They were watching her like predators before prey.

“I would like to learn more– about my technique and how I can best utilize it to–” she hesitated. She didn’t believe her words but she knew they would be convincing. “ – assist the Gojo Clan. If I could gain access to some specialized texts that would be greatly beneficial.”

“Prove yourself here and that may be arranged.”

Kugutsu frowned but did as she was told. It was hard to keep her defiance when her instincts were the opposite. Not just because of the binding vow, but it was just in Kugutsu’s nature to follow instructions. To do as she was told. She was a long way from that pliant little girl but she was still in her. Kugutsu wondered if she would always have that instinct– the instinct to bend the knee.

She stepped onto the mat with the man.

“Please begin using your cursed technique. A demonstration would be pointless without it.”

The man nodded and complied, putting his hands together and summoning a ball of wind between his palms. 

It didn’t take long. Kugutsu put her hand on the back of his head and a second later the man’s air dissipated. When he tried again nothing happened. Kugutsu forced his cursed energy into all the wrong places, making it useless. He was just like a non-sorcerer with no control of his own energy. 

The elders muttered amongst themselves.

“Interesting. Tell me, child, how long could you keep him like this.”

Kugutsu paused, considering. 

“I assume indefinitely if I could keep contact.”

“Assumption?”

“I’ve never done it for very long. Most people try to get away quickly after realizing what I’m doing.”

One of the elders smiled.

“Good. Then consider this training.”

The elders began to gossip, their words overlapping as they spoke about her without really caring that she was standing right there.

Another elder leaned back, his eyes tracing from the man's head to her bare arms and back.

“An ability like this… quite a rarity.”

“Yes,” another agreed, pensively stroking his chin. “Imagine if it were passed down.”

Kugutsu did not like the sound of that. No. Not at all.

The elders stood up to leave and one of them remarked, casually. 

“Stay here and continue your cursed technique until you can no longer. It is important to understand the extent of your abilities. Do not cheat. We will know.”

And without another word, the elders walked out of the room, making sure to give her and her prisoner a wide berth. 

The silence between Kugutsu and the man stretched on to infinity. It seemed that neither were the talkative type. She didn’t know how long it had been, there were no windows in this room but she could tell that at least it was still dark out. Her fingers rested almost too casually against the back of the man’s head, a single point of contact keeping his cursed energy suffocatingly low. 

He wasn’t resisting. There was no anger. No struggle. No contempt. Just standing there looking at the far wall blankly. 

Kugutsu hated it.

She hated how easy this was. She wasn’t trying very hard. She wasn’t getting tired. This man’s cursed energy was not anything impressive, and the lack of resistance made it all the easier. Keeping someone's cursed energy down once she had adapted to it was easy, it was the constant adaptation that was hard. Kugutsu exhaled slowly. She needed to do something.

“Do you have a name? I’d offer mine but I’m sure you heard it.”

No response.

“You aren’t in pain, are you? You shouldn’t but I can adjust if you need it.”

No response.

“I– I’m sorry. For this. I’m not exactly happy about it.”

No response.

“Can you talk? Please.”

No response.

A strange unease settled in her stomach.

She had seen plenty of sorcerers react to her technique. Most of them fought tooth and nail against it- thrashing, straining, doing anything they could to break free. But this man?

He didn’t react at all.

Her fingers pressed slightly harder against his skull, feeling for any kind of physical reaction.

Nothing.

She hated this. But if she stopped, they would just have an excuse to do it again. She refused to do this again.

So she settled into a more comfortable position and took out her phone with her other hand.

[Kugutsu] - I had a chat with the elders. Wanted a practical demonstration

Her phone buzzed in response quickly.

[S. Gojo] - ??? What happened?

[Kugutsu] - Still happening actually. 

[S. Gojo] - What do you mean still happening?!?!

[Kugutsu] - They wanted me to keep my cursed technique active until I couldn’t. Which could be indefinitely if my estimations are sound.

She sent the message, watching as the typing bubbles appeared– then vanished.

Then reappeared.

Then vanished again.

[S. Gojo] - I don't like this. Like at ALL.

Another pause.

[S. Gojo] - Tell me to get you out of there and I will. Me or Suguru will show up. Might even bring the underclassmen if we’re feeling spicy. 

[Kugutsu] - If you stop it now they’ll just take my phone next time. Plus I might get something out of it.

[S. Gojo] - ???

[Kugutsu] - If it goes well they might give me access to some texts on cursed techniques. I could learn something from it.

[S. Gojo] - Play-Doh I could get you access to those. 

She stared at her phone screen and then at the man in front of her.

[Kugutsu] - I didn't know that.

A few minutes passed with no texts sent between the two of them. For a moment Kugutsu thought he was mad at her stupidity. 

[S. Gojo] - Is there anything else?

[Kugutsu] - Nothing really. Just creepy old guys being creepy. Your family is a bunch of creeps Gojo.

[S. Gojo] - I’ll fix this. As soon as I can. Just wait it out.

Then another message just as quick

[S. Gojo] - And if the elders ever try something without me there you have to tell them to fuck off and wait until I get there.

[Kugutsu] - Are you sure about that wording?

[S. Gojo] - Honestly? Yeah fuck it.

[Kugutsu] - If this gets me in more shit it’s your head.

[S. Gojo] - I’m the strongest. Who the hell is gonna take my head?

Kugutsu glanced from her phone to her palm on the back of this man’s head. What options did she have? And so she stayed, for as long as she was able, until the sun rose and fell and the elders inevitably got bored of just watching her stand there. Watching as time ticked by and she could do absolutely nothing about it. 

Chapter Text

“Geto, are you sure it’s alright for me to come on this mission with you?” Kugutu asked as they walked side by side.

“Why wouldn’t it be? Satoru said it was fine.”

“It’s less about that– I know you and Gojo get sent on really intense missions because no one else can do them. What he sends me on are his scraps. Are you–”

“Kugutsu, I’m sure. I might not send you to this one by yourself, but you and I make a good team. We’ll be fine.”

Kugutsu nodded as they kept walking. They were making their way to a small town on the outskirts of Tokyo. It was one of those secluded places that you wouldn’t get too unless it's where you were trying to go. 

“Oh! Kugutsu, did you want this back?” Geto pulled out the Hanafuda card from his pocket. “Things have been busy since the trial but you did make it out.”

She shook her head. “Not until I’m out of this whole vow business. Keep it until we get to the other side.”

Geto paused, pensive. He didn't know what to say to that. He stared at her for a moment, a frown dancing through his features before putting it away. The duo walked in a tense silence, one the vow always seemed to create.

“So! A rich town huh? You think when we’re done we’ll be able to grab some food?” Kugutsu continued, trying to lighten the mood.

“You aren’t excited for food at the compound.” Geto spoke, raising a brow. The sarcasm was self-evident.

“Are you excited for cafeteria food at school?” 

Geto paused.

 “Fair enough. I’m sure we can get food. Probably get Satoru some sweets too.”

“Actually I’ve been meaning to ask. Do you know his favorite?”

“Kikufuku probably but any kind of sweet will do,” Geto responded a little too quickly. “Why do you ask?”

“On one hand I wanted to get him a gift. But I also was just curious if you knew. It’s… cute.”

Geto was not an easily flustered boy, but the insinuation was not lost on him. The tips of his ears slowly but surely flushed a light red. He continued walking without speaking. Kugutsu glanced sideways at Geto as they walked, a quiet, knowing smile tugging at her lips.

“What I mean is it's nice to have someone who always knows your favorite snack. You two work well together.”

“Yeah. We do...” Geto replied, his voice softer now. “Hopefully Yaga-sensei sends us on some missions together soon.”

They continued walking in silence, the soft exchange hanging between them, unspoken but understood. The road ahead grew narrower as they neared the outskirts of the town, and the weight of their destination began to settle back into the air. The quiet tension of the mission returned, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was familiar, something they had both accepted long ago.

The town they came face to face with was not what either of them expected. The town was supposed to be a haven of luxury, a retreat where the wealthy could indulge in excess without the prying eyes of the less fortunate. It was meant to be a place where money bought everything- pleasure, food, influence, power. That was how the mission described it.

But what Kugutsu and Geto found was a place that had rotted from the inside out.

The buildings, once pristine and modern, sagged under their own weight, their wooden structures swollen with age and neglect. The streets, paved with imported stone, were slick with a greasy sheen, an unidentifiable filth that clung to every surface. The air carried a thick, pungent scent, a mixture of spoiled food, sweat, and something much darker, much older.

“Geto…?”

“Yes. This is the right spot.”

Kugutsu’s lips pulled into a fine line but they kept walking. As the duo made it into the town’s threshold the effect was immediate. Every person that they could see snapped their heads in the duo’s direction. 

At first, Kugutsu thought they were starving. Their skin clung to their bones, their bodies thin and frail as if they had long been deprived of sustenance. Clear signs of extreme poverty.

But then she noticed the weight they carried.

Their bodies sagged under the crushing burden of gold and jewels. Bracelets stacked so high on their arms that their fingers could no longer move, thick rings swelling their hands until the flesh beneath turned necrotic. Necklaces and chains pulled at their spines, their heads craned unnaturally forward, bending beneath the sheer mass of their adornments. Their wealth had fused with them, a part of their bodies now, inescapable.

One, maybe the bravest approached first. And then the next and the next until a hoard was surrounding them. Their bodies, upclose, resembled dried leather more than human skin. Their eyes hollow voids where eyes might have resided. Their hands, frail and weighed down by bracelets and rings and other precious metals extended at the duo, clawing at the hems of their clothes.

               “Please–”

                                  “More, more–”

     “Give me more.”

                                               “I neeeeeeeed.”

                                                                             “Can you–?”

                  “You have some?”

Their voices, a creaking sound that somehow emerged from their hollow bodies, was deafening. Kugutsu felt like she could only stare as the crowd began to consume her in its mass. The hands that began at her hems clawed at her clothes, pawed at her hair, fondled her cheeks. Kugutsu was drowning. She wanted to push them off her but she felt stuck. Something about the mass was unsettling. Something that made her freeze. What was it? What was wrong? Something is wrong with them? What's wrong? Why can’t she see it? 

Her cursed energy reacted to them. Not like it did with sorcerers, not like it did in battle, but like it was being drawn out against her will. Like it was leaking from her, desperate to fill something.

She tried to understand, tried to grasp the wrongness of it, but before she could–

“Kugutsu! Hand!” Geto’s voice cut through her thoughts.

It was all she could do to raise a hand outside of the masses. Kugutsu blinked, and in that instant, she felt herself pulled away, her feet barely finding purchase as Geto used one of his flying cursed spirits to lift her.

As they ascended, rising above the town, Kugutsu looked down at the throngs below. They clawed at the air, as though their souls were being torn from their bodies, writhing in desperate need. Reaching up towards them.

“They don’t have cursed energy.” Kugutsu spoke slowly.

“Yeah I saw.”

“But it's worse than that, it's like they have… negative cursed energy. Like they– like it's owed.”

Geto carefully landed them on a roof, out of sight of these cursed things. 

“You think that's why they were immediately drawn to us?” Geto questioned, thinking.

“It felt like they were trying to feed off me. To fill some kind of hole. It was all I could do to stop my cursed energy to leap into their… nothingness.”

Kugutsu looked at her palms questioningly. It had been a while since her cursed energy felt so… out of control. She had gotten much better at only molding her cursed energy to others when she wanted to, not just when they matched. This was different. Like her cursed energy was reacting to the pure nothingness there. Or more than nothingness.

Geto hummed in through, his brain trying to process the information. A plan. Those people down there were closer to curses than they were humans. There was probably no saving them now, but that didn’t mean that they were the cause of their own distress. Something had to be the cause. Something stronger than these people clawing desperately to fill some void.

“Next course of action. You should see if you can sense any lingering cursed energy in the area. Those things down there don’t have any so it's likely something else either controlling them or making them like this.”

Kugutsu nodded, trying to find a bit more resolve in this mess but she felt so… guilty for some reason. It was a strange feeling– not that she had never experienced guilt before– it didn’t feel like it was genuine. Like something outside herself. She had no real reason to feel guilt over the starving masses below. Pity? Perhaps, but guilt seemed a bit too sensitive. 

The duo flew above the town on one of Geto’s cursed spirits. A curse resembling a mantaray with a too long trail. Kugutsu focused her search across the town, trying her best to avoid the gaze of those hungry things beneath her. It didn’t take too long before she found it. A building in one of the far corners of the town. The only place with cursed energy.

They landed near the entrance doing their best to avoid the husks in the area as they quietly made their way inside. The building was an old abandoned buffet restaurant. As they pressed forward into the decaying restaurant, the air thickened, heavy with the putrid stench of rotting food. Flies buzzed in frenzied clouds, drawn to the decayed opulence left behind on tables stacked high with spoiled feasts. Dirty, broken plates liter the floor creaking under each of the duo’s steps.

The more they walked, the more unwell Kugutsu felt. She felt… weak. Dizzy. It started gradually as a dull ache in her chest. Then it spread to her limbs, and then to her head. She tried to push past it, tried to ignore it but something was dangerously wrong. Kugutsu’s breathing grew shallow. She clenched her fists, trying to ground herself, but the deeper they went, the heavier her body felt. A sickly pull gnawed at her insides, like something was reaching into her, grasping for the very core of her being.

“Geto…” Kugutsu spoke softly, her eyes struggling to focus.

He looked over concerned.

“I’m not sure why but I don’t feel great. Can you tell if something is wrong or am I just freaking myself out.”

“Kugutsu?” Geto’s voice was sharp, his hand instinctively reaching out to steady her as she swayed. His eyes scanned her carefully– she looked drained, her skin slightly paler than before.

Geto frowned. “Your cursed energy’s getting dangerously low. Are you doing anything?”

“Not that I know of.”

And then–

Drip. A thick, wet noise in the silence.

Drip. The air shuddered, a reverberation of something old and hungry lurking just ahead.

As they turned a corner, the restaurant opened into a grand banquet hall. An enormous, crimson-stained dining table stretched the length of the room, piled with rotting meat, moldy bread, and decayed fruit. The walls, once gilded, were blackened, warped by something malignant. The overwhelming smell of excess and death clung to everything.

The walls, once gilded, had been warped by something malignant. The rot wasn’t just physical- it clung to the space itself, tainting everything.

At the end of the hall, a bone frail creature dressed in rags lounged on a chair. Long gnarled fingers much too long for the rest of it played with a rusting golden crown on its head. As it saw them its spine unfurled, bringing it to its full high, revealing the gaping almost endless void one might call a stomach.

And it spoke.

“Do… you have more to give?”

Kugutsu felt it. A pressure on her throat that felt close to vomiting. Something about the words made her body recoil. Her eyes darted towards Geto who was standing perfectly still.

“It’s a simple domain. I can’t move until I answer the question.” He spoke, his brow furrowed in through.

The thing, the curse, didn’t move its eyes from her. Then one of the fingers on its hands extended until it reached her chin, all the way from the other side of the room. At the touch, Kugutsu staggered to her knees.

She tried to move but it felt like her cursed energy wasn’t her own. It was moving on its own, stretching outward, reaching. A terrible realization struck her, though she couldn’t quite grasp its full meaning yet. Her cursed energy was trying to match something.

It was trying to match the void. Like it always did. Like Play-Doh molding itself to fit.

The pull intensified. Her chest clenched. She could feel it- her cursed energy being molded, being reshaped without her control. It was like her technique was reacting instinctively, desperate to fill the nothingness before her, to mold itself into something that belonged there. Then she heard it. The voices again. The cacophony of sound that pierced her eardrums. Demanding. Wanting. Needing. Consuming. More hands burst from the void in the creature’s chest. More hands to caress her cursed energy as it was consumed. And the worst part is that she loved it.

No. That's not right. She hated it. But her cursed energy loved it. It had always been malleable, always willing to mold. It belonged where it was needed. And right now, it was needed here. It was slipping from her fingers, threading through the endless abyss in the curse’s stomach like woven silk being unraveled. She was being unmade, piece by piece, willingly, instinctively.

As its hands consumed Kugutsu its head turned to Geto with an almost innocent tilt.

“Do you have more to give?”

Kugutsu’s cursed energy was being depleted by the second. Her hands spasmed every which way, trying to find something to hold. Something to ground her.

Her cursed energy was still being devoured.

Her fingers twitched like they weren’t her own, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She looked at him, but she wasn’t seeing him. She was starting to look like them. Like those hollow creatures outside. Her eyes were gaunt, her mouth hung upon in a silent plea. And just like that, Geto made his decision. He wrenched himself free, forcing his cursed energy outward in a violent wave, cracking the domain’s hold just enough to move. 

Geto’s cursed energy exploded in a wave of violent intensity, tearing through the heavy air of the banquet hall like a storm unleashed. The ground beneath them quivered as Geto’s spirits surged forward, coiling and thrashing, their power a stark contrast to the eerie stillness of the cursed creature’s domain. He knew it was now or never.

“No. I don't.” He could feel the weight of it– an invitation to surrender, to feed the emptiness, to give into that nothingness. He knew what it wanted. And he knew the answer. He could feel the guilt that settled in his chest when the words spiraled out. 

The curse screamed. Not in rage. Not in pain. In hunger. The walls of the banquet hall groaned as if the very foundation of the building was rejecting his answer. A low, wet gurgle echoed from the creature’s stomach-the sound of something consuming itself. And then, the room began to collapse. Not physically, but conceptually. The space warped, stretching too far away one moment and crushing inward the next. The banquet table twisted into itself, the rotting food bubbling, melting, dissolving into a thick, black sludge that slithered along the floor like living oil. The overwhelming stench of decay thickened, pressing against Geto’s lungs, heavy and cloying. And the hunger spread. It clawed its way into him, digging into the core of his being.

His vision blurred. His stomach convulsed. It felt as though his cursed energy was being yanked in reverse, twisted into something else. It wasn’t just draining him- it was reshaping him. Unraveling him. The domain was not just a question; it was a contract, and by refusing, Geto had rejected payment. The curse wasn’t just hunger. It was greed. It did not simply take, It created want. It whispered in the marrow of his bones, in the depths of his cursed energy, and for a single, terrifying moment- Geto wanted to give in. Not to death. Not to the void. But to the clarity of knowing that he never had to give again. That he could take instead. That he could be the one who asked: Do you have more to give?

And then he felt it. The laxing pressure of his muscles. The freedom of movement he had been deprived of. But he didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to want or give. 

The creature’s twisted, skeletal grin widened as it felt Geto's surge, but its eyes never left Kugutsu, whose cursed energy was still being devoured by the hands that emerged from its abyssal stomach. Geto could see it in her face- she was slipping, her energy crumbling like sand through an hourglass.

Without a moment's hesitation he threw a curse in Kugutsu’s direction.

“Focus. Give me your cursed energy. Mold into mine.”

Kugutsu, face devoid of emotion, nodded and got to work. She was almost like them now. Like the husks outside. But despite it all she recognized the request. Her cursed energy soaring into the cursed spirit.

Geto could feel it, the enhancement, the typical high of Kugutsu’s cursed technique, but also something darker. That hollow middle that just wanted to consume and consume and consume. 

But the duo sharing their cursed energy made it much harder for the entity to pull from the malleable girl. Her eyes regained focus, the guilt and the need to fill that empty void slowly slipping from her body like raindrops.

“I– I’m sorry about that, Geto.” Kugutsu spoke, her breath labored.

“It’s fine. Glad you’re back” A relieved smile crawled up his features.

The creature roared out in pain. Its many hands and limbs throwing whatever it could get its hands on into its gaping void. 

“Not enough…. MoRe! MoRE! MOre! MorE! MORE!” The creature’s voice grew desperate, its once calm demeanor shifting to panic as it realized its hunger was no longer being fed. It was starving. 

Kugutsu and Geto moved as one. They had always been a formidable duo, their cursed techniques complementing each other with effortless synergy. But this was something different.

This was rage.

Fury and precision intertwined, each attack landing like a death sentence. Kugutsu’s cursed energy surged through Geto’s, amplifying his power, sharpening his strikes, making his spirits hit harder, faster. She slipped through openings he created, striking at weak points with unrelenting force. His curses tore through the air, shadows lashing like whips, jaws snapping like starved beasts.

The creature screamed.

It reached into its own hollow body, trying to fill the nothingness, shoving food, trinkets, even its own flesh into the abyss of its stomach. The more it consumed, the more grotesque it became. Its limbs twisting unnaturally, its crown slipping down its bony skull as if even its own hunger rejected it.

The crowned beggar collapsed beneath their feet, its skeletal frame folding in on itself, its ragged, gold-threaded robes soaked in the filth of its own making. What remained of its face twisted in pain and suffering, and still, its trembling hands reached forward, its palms up, empty.

A beggar’s pose.

“I am hungryyyyyy. Please.”

Geto put out a hand. The creature twisted and shrunk until it was nothing more than a glowing purple orb in the boy's hand. The two took a deep breath relief coating their features.

“Do you want me to– uh look away?” 

Geto stared at the orb for a moment. Then, with no hesitation, he unhinged his jaw and swallowed it whole.

Kugutsu had seen him do it before, but it never got easier to watch. The way the curse twisted unnaturally as it was consumed, the way his throat tightened as if forcing down something rancid, the way his entire body stiffened, absorbing the weight of what he had just taken in. It was ugly. It was monstrous.

When he finally swallowed, his brows furrowed, his expression distant, as if something foreign had settled inside him.

“It was a child,” he muttered, almost to himself. “The curse was a child. The town let him starve to death.”

Kugutsu’s brows furrowed, confusion laced with disbelief. “What do you mean? How–”

“The curse,” Geto’s voice was steady, though a flicker of something darker danced in his eyes, “was born from his death. From the emptiness left in him. It fed on cursed energy.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “And those… people out there.” He continued, his voice resigned.

Kugutsu’s expression hardened. She didn't wait for him to finish, quickly walking outside. The air felt different now, quieter, still. The husks of people who had once clawed at them, who had reached with desperate, bony fingers, had collapsed where they stood. Their bodies, once warped by greed, now lay in brittle piles, jewelry and ashes all that remained.

They had been nothing more than empty vessels, barely human by the time she and Geto arrived. 

“Good riddance.” Geto muttered behind her.

The girl hummed in thought. “I’d agree.”

He looked at her, his expression hard and unreadable. “You think they deserved to die?”

“I don’t think they deserved to die, but they were as good as dead. Nothing can live like that. Whatever it was it's good that they are… done.”

Geto hesitated. He should have agreed. He wanted to. He should have. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. His throat felt dry. 

“Oh. Right .”

Kugutsu knelt, brushing her fingers through the dust, letting the fine grains slip through the spaces between her fingers. The way she did it was almost clinical, her expression unreadable, but there was something in the set of her shoulders, tight, tense.

“We should go.” Kugutsu said, her tone distant.

Geto exhaled through his nose, rubbing a hand over his face. He could still taste the curse in his throat, thick and cloying, like something rotten had settled deep in his stomach. The memories it had carried clung to the edges of his mind: a child, abandoned, forgotten, left to starve while the people around him filled themselves with everything but what he needed.

“Would you– could you have tried to save them.” Geto said, his voice low. Questioning. Like a child might ask their parent.

She turned her gaze toward him, watching the way his fingers curled into the fabric of his sleeve, the way his jaw clenched just slightly. He was asking her something he had already been asking himself.

Would you have saved the boy?

Would you have saved any of them?

Would you have wasted your energy on the people who did this to us?

“Maybe, but I doubt it would have changed anything. Besides, I can’t exactly afford to get into any more trouble– or get you into trouble for that matter.”

Geto hummed in response. His gaze stuck on the sky. He should have wanted to save them. He should have wanted to help. That's what sorcerers did. That's what they worked towards. Saving people.

“We should go.” Kugutsu repeated, this time a little more stern.

“Yeah… we should go.”

Neither of them said anything as they walked away. Neither of them looked back. They wouldn’t need to look back. Everything about this place was already clinging to them like ashes.

The duo never went on another mission together again. 

Chapter Text

“So, what kind of women are you into?”

Kugutsu turned slowly, almost incredulously at the voice behind her. A tall muscular blond woman was staring at her. She wore jeans and a cropped black top. So… obviously not a student.

“Excuse me?”

The woman grinned, her voice floating in the air without a care in the world.

“It's a simple question. What kind of woman or you into? Men or women or whatever I guess works too.”

Kugutsu narrowed her eyes, glancing around the hall as if expecting a hidden camera or a snickering Gojo lurking just out of sight. He would show up to laugh and spray confetti in her face or something but…Nothing. Just her and this absurdly confident stranger with golden hair and a grin like she found life endlessly amusing.

“...What?” Kugutsu asked again, slower this time, as if maybe she had misheard.

The woman huffed a laugh, crossing her arms. “Alright, I'll make it easier for you. What’s your type?”

Kugutsu blinked. “Are you– are you hitting on me?”

That only made the stranger laugh louder. “Nah, just making conversation.” She tilted her head, studying Kugutsu like she was an interesting puzzle.

“I guess I’ve never thought of it before… romance and all that just hasn’t been my main concern.”

The woman frowned for a moment, obviously unhappy about the answer. But then she realized.

“Ohh! I get it. You’re Gojo’s new project aren’t you?”

Kugutsu’s fingers twitched at her sides. Gojo’s… project ? It wasn’t exactly wrong but it didn’t make her feel any better about it. 

“You’re looking for Gojo then?”

“Have you seen him?”

“No.” Kugutsu paused. Did she want to tell this woman where Gojo was? Probably not. “He’s out.”

The woman clicked her tongue before pouting. “Awww that's too bad I wanted a chance to talk with all the special grades.” She quickly recovered from her momentary sadness. “Say, aren’t you supposed to be banned from this school?”

“I’m helping Shoko in the infirmary. Some first years got hit pretty badly.”

Yuki raised an eyebrow, her grin sharpening at the edges. “Oh? Gojo sent you to play nurse?”

Kugutsu exhaled through her nose. “He assigned me to assist Shoko, yes.”

“Uh-huh,” Yuki hummed, rocking back on her heels. “You don’t sound thrilled about it.”

Kugutsu frowned. “I enjoy helping Shoko.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Yuki’s gaze flickered, assessing her with a different kind of interest now. It wasn’t just amusement anymore. It was curiosity, something sharper and a little knowing.

Kugutsu held her stare. “You seem very interested in me for someone who came here looking for Gojo.”

“I am interested in you,” Yuki admitted, shrugging with ease. “Your technique. It's a rare one, isn't it? The ability to manipulate cursed energy directly… I’d bet the higher-ups loved the idea of getting their hands on you.”

Kugutsu’s jaw tensed, but she didn’t answer.

Yuki’s smirk widened, catching the shift in her expression. She stuffed her hands into her pockets, tilting her head. “It’s a shame Gojo snatched you up first. I really could use someone with a technique like yours.”

Kugutsu stared at her. “You talk like I didn’t have a choice.”

Yuki met her gaze head-on. “ Did you?”

The silence stretched between them, heavy and unmoving. Kugutsu wasn’t sure if she was irritated by Yuki’s bluntness or unsettled by how easily she cut through everything she tried not to think about.

Finally, Yuki sighed, stretching her arms above her head. “Welp. No use crying over spilt milk. But hey, if you ever do get tired of playing Gojo’s little heirloom, hit me up. Us girls gotta stick together right?”

Then, just as unceremoniously as she arrived, she turned on a heel and walked off. 

Kugutsu didn’t know what to think of the strange blond. She was certainly… direct. What a strange woman.  With a small breath, she rolled her shoulders and turned back toward the infirmary. She still had work to do. No point dwelling on it.

And yet, Yuki’s words lingered.

Gojo’s… Heirloom?

Kugutsu returned to the infirmary without incident, balancing a large box of supplies against her hip. The infirmary smelled like antiseptic and burned flesh. The sharp tang of cursed energy residue clung to the walls, seeping into every corner of the dimly lit room

Shoko hovered over one of the first years examining the deep gash running down his shoulder. His breathing was labored, but steady. He’d live. 

“Thanks for bringing that Sone, you can start setting it up in the cabinets over there. They’re  labeled so it should be fine.” Kugutsu obeyed without another word.

Kugutsu obeyed without a word, kneeling by the shelves and sorting the supplies into neat rows. The repetition of it was calming. Open, unpack, place, repeat. Even as the occasional groan from a student broke the silence, she kept moving, wondering, absently, how many of them would make it through the year.

“Sone, lend me your technique for a second.” Shoko spoke, cutting through her thoughts.

Kugutsu stood, stepping over to her. She placed a palm lightly against Shoko’s shoulder, feeling the pull of cursed energy beneath her skin. It was always strange, lending her ability to someone else, watching the way their technique adjusted, expanded, amplified. She didn’t heal, not directly, but with her technique smoothing out the efficiency of cursed energy flow, Shoko’s abilities surged. The deep gash on the student’s shoulder slowly, but surely, began to close, knitting itself together until only a faint line remained. 

Shoko exhaled, “Thanks. That would’ve taken hours otherwise.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Maybe I should thank Gojo instead then…” Shoko’s tone was casual, but there was something knowing behind it.

Kugutsu didn’t respond. 

“How long do you think he’ll make you do this?” Shoko continued, motioning toward the unconscious first-year.

Kugutsu forced herself to focus, to pretend the question didn’t dig beneath the fabric of her skin “Until you’re done or until he comes back.” 

Shoko nodded, taking out a cigarette and lighting it with a practiced motion. The sharp scent of smoke curled between them as she leaned against the cot, arms crossed, eyes sharp. “You don’t like feeling useless.”

Kugutsu scoffed, glancing away. “Does anyone?”

“No,” Shoko admitted, lighting the cigarette as she exhaled slowly, “but not everyone’s as obvious about it as you.”

Shoko let the quiet stretch for a moment before tilting her head. “You know, most people don’t notice us.”

Kugutsu blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in conversation. “What?”

“The support sorcerers,” Shoko clarified, gesturing lazily at the room. “People like me. People like you. We’re the ones who patch them up and send them back out, and they don’t really think about it unless they’re right here.”

Kugutsu glanced at the injured students, then at the empty cot beside them. The bloodstained sheets had already been removed, but the scent of iron still lingered. Someone had been there earlier. Someone who had needed help.

And someone would be there tomorrow.

“My point is,” Shoko continued, “it doesn’t make you less useful just because no one is looking. It’s good work.”

It was good work. Kugutsu was glad she had use. But she could also see what Shoko was talking about. It was probably even worse for her upperclassman, she didn’t even really go on missions anymore. She’s far more useful staying safe in Jujutsu High… but Kugutsu had felt it too. As soon as she was removed from missions, it was like the entire world kept turning but she was stuck in place. A jujutsu sorcerer's life revolves around the missions you take, the harrowing experiences you bond over. Not having those is a lot like being left behind.

Kugutsu had felt it before, in the stretches of time when Gojo had no missions for her, when she was kept within the walls of the Gojo compound, surrounded by people who didn’t see her as one of them. It was suffocating.

But she still had missions. Still had him throwing them her way, keeping her tethered, even if only barely.

Shoko was just here. Waiting. Watching.

The two settled into a comfortable silence, Kugutsu and Shoko working in tandem to heal those unlucky few who ran head first into danger.

And those thoughts resonated with Kugutsu more than she would care to admit.

Kugutsu wasn’t entirely sure why she said yes to this.

The invitation had come casually enough. Haibara, all smiles, waving her down in the hall between classes. “Kugutsu! Hey, hey! Me and Nanami are getting dinner later, you should come! It’s been ages.”

Nanami, standing slightly behind him, had sighed as if he hadn’t been the one to agree to Haibara’s enthusiastic request in the first place. “It hasn’t been that long.”

“It has been that long,” Haibara insisted, turning back to Kugutsu. “C’mon, it’ll be fun! We’re heading out on a mission soon, so we wanted to grab a good meal before we go.”

And maybe that was why she agreed.

Because Haibara had said it so easily. Before we go. A reminder that soon, they’d be out there again, on a mission together, moving forward while she remained where she was. It felt like something was slipping away from her, and she wasn’t even sure what.

So now she sat across from them in a tiny, dimly lit restaurant just outside the school grounds, the air warm with the scent of grilled meat and miso soup. Haibara, ever the extrovert, had done most of the talking so far, recounting some ridiculous story about one of their classmates getting their sleeve caught in a vending machine. Kugutsu wasn’t really listening. She was trying - but there was a distance between them now, one she hadn’t noticed before.

Nanami, for his part, didn’t speak much, but Kugutsu could tell he was watching her. Maybe he noticed how quiet she was. Maybe he had already figured out she was struggling to be here.

“Earth to Kugutsu,” Haibara’s voice cut through her thoughts, grinning as he waved a skewer in front of her face. “You’re, like, a million miles away. You good?”

She blinked, looking between them. Nanami’s brows were slightly furrowed, not quite worried but observant.

“Yeah,” she said, shaking her head as if to clear it. “Just— tired. It’s been a long week.”

Haibara hummed, unconvinced but not pressing. Instead, he nudged the skewer toward her again. “Here. Eat. You look like you’re running on fumes.”

She accepted it, if only because arguing would take more energy than it was worth.

Nanami finally spoke, his voice even. “You haven’t been on missions lately.”

Kugutsu felt her fingers tighten around the wooden skewer. “Not as many,” she admitted, eyes flickering to Haibara, who was watching carefully now. “Gojo’s been getting high-level stuff. Stuff I can’t even try. So I’ve been… staying put.”

There was a beat of silence before Nanami nodded. “I see.” He didn’t say more, but the words felt heavier than they should have.

“ I think we should all go on a mission together,” Haibara said, ever the optimist, as he leaned forward on his elbows. “One day. The three of us. That’d be fun, right?”

“I don’t think that’s up to us right now,” she said, her voice lighter than she felt. “But I’ll keep it in mind.”

Haibara beamed. “Good! That’s a promise.”

Nanami sighed, but there was something in his expression- something softer, more knowing, that made her think he understood exactly why she wasn’t really saying yes.

Haibara continued “So the mission we’re going on tomorrow is pretty far away! Some grade two curse in the-”

As Haibara began excitedly talking about his mission, Kugutsu's mind couldn't help but wander. She studied them both, letting their words blur into the background as she took them in. Haibara and Nanami had grown- not just stronger, but closer. The easy way they bantered, the way they adjusted for each other without thinking. They were moving in sync, growing into something together while she… wasn’t.

She had spent so much time in limbo, caught between Gojo’s missions and the Gojo Clan’s demands, between duty and restriction. And in the meantime, her friends had kept going. They had gotten stronger, forged something solid while she had been standing still.

She wasn’t bitter. She wasn’t even jealous.

But for the first time, she realized just how much she had missed.

She was happy they were getting stronger.

The Gojo Clan compound was quiet at this hour.

Kugutsu sat in the open courtyard, bathed in the pale glow of lanterns. The night air was cool, carrying the distant hum of cicadas and the faint rustle of the trees beyond the walls. It should have been peaceful. But the stillness only made the weight in her chest heavier.

She exhaled slowly, tilting her head up toward the sky. The stars were clear tonight. Distant. Untouchable. Footsteps approached. Measured, deliberate.

A voice followed, flat and impersonal. The same woman who had called her once before.

“Your next purification bath is ready.”

Kugutsu didn’t move right away. She let the words settle, let the inevitable sink in. Gojo wasn’t good enough at giving orders and by all intents and purposes while he held her literal leash– the one that could make her jump without her control– the Gojo clan held her as well. By all intents and purposes they owned her. 

Gojo’s orders had been very specific to clan elders. Not anyone else. For all of Gojo’s posturing, for how he was the strongest and how he would fix this… he was only a year older than her. And they were both just children. 

And unless he said otherwise, or the Gojo clan had a miraculous change of heart, her future with them was nothing short of an inevitability.

Then, finally, she sighed, pushing herself to her feet. “Alright.”

Nothing else to do.

She followed without looking back.

Chapter Text

Kugutsu bowed towards the Gojo Elders as soon as they spoke to her. They had arrived shortly after her monthly purification. She knew what was coming.

“Fuck off and wait until Gojo is here.” The words rolled off her lips before she could contain them.

She bowed again.

She could feel the indignant stares, she could hear the gasps and the echoed muttering. She raised herself to a standing position, restraining the smirk that threatened to escape her.

“Apologies, those were Satoru Gojo’s direct orders. As you are well aware I am bound to share them with you.”

The room was thick with tension, an almost palpable silence hanging over the Gojo Elders as their eyes bore down on Kugutsu. Their expressions were a mix of surprise, disbelief, and barely contained outrage But… they knew the parameters of the binding vow, and above all else they knew Satoru Gojo.

“We will speak of this later, child.” an elder grumbled.

Kugutsu nodded and, taking his words as a dismissal, quickly made her way out of the room. She took a deep breath but the stress wouldn’t leave her. The way they looked at her left her unsettled, she hated it. She hated that she knew what they were thinking. What they wanted for their precious Gojo Clan bloodline.

And she hated how quickly she knew they would figure out the loophole around the orders Gojo had given her.

She needed to let off some steam. She needed a particularly punchable face.

[Kugutsu] Would you be willing to train with me sometime soon?

[Gojo] Sure I can spare some time. You good?

[Kugutsu] Elders.

[Gojo] Gross.

Kugutsu didn’t wait long before she felt Gojo’s presence. Effortless, overwhelming, like the air itself bent around him before he even stepped into view. He was always like that. Too much, too loud, too Gojo.

She met him at one of the compound’s private training grounds, a secluded space surrounded by high walls and carefully groomed trees, meant for honing skills without prying eyes. 

Gojo stretched lazily as he approached, hands in his pockets, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. “Alright, Play-Doh, tell me– how bad did you piss them off?”

Kugutsu rolled her shoulders, shifting into a loose stance. “Pretty bad. You’d be proud.”

“Oh, I am proud,” Gojo grinned. “Bet their old bones nearly turned to dust when you said it.”

“They weren’t happy,” she admitted, flexing her fingers. “But they couldn’t say much. You did tell me to, after all.”

Gojo snorted. “Damn right I did. You should start saying it with more gusto, though.” He placed a hand dramatically on his chest. “ Fuck off and wait until

Gojo is here. ” 

“Please be careful with how you phrase things around me, Gojo.” Kugutsu rolled her eyes. “Are we sparring or are you just here to chat?”

“Why not both?”

She lunged.

Gojo caught her wrist before she could make contact, twisting just enough to send her momentum off course. She turned with it, adjusting, aiming a quick strike toward his ribs– only for her knuckles to meet Infinity.

Kugutsu clicked her tongue, stepping back. “Rude.”

“Not rude,” Gojo said with a shrug. “Its a fight, right?”

Kugutsu went to dash forward again.

“Gojo, do you think a body can survive without cursed energy?”

Gojo’s smirk twitched, almost imperceptibly, before settling back into place. But Kugutsu caught it. The hesitation. The split-second flicker of something behind his usual, insufferable confidence. Her body pushed against his infinity willing it to pry open under her rampaging fists.

His hand flexed slightly, as if remembering something unpleasant. “What, you planning on becoming like him, Play-Doh?” His voice was light, teasing, but there was an edge to it.

The ‘him’ was clear to them both. The man with no cursed energy that had left ugly scars on her classmates’ bodies. 

Kugutsu tilted her head, watching him. “You dodged the question.”

Gojo exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off a bad memory. “Well, even non-sorcerers have cursed energy so unless you've got a heavenly restriction–” He spat the world like sandpaper on his tongue “ – probably not. Or they’d be having a real bad time”

Kugutsu hummed in understanding, her mind working overtime. Gojo just stared at her, a quiet understanding overtaking his features. He set off now, striking back at the girl who was distracted by her own thoughts.

He clicked his tongue. “You really are trying to piss them off, huh?”

Kugutsu did her best to dodge.. “So it’s possible?”

Gojo hummed, tilting his head as if running the calculations in real-time. “Possible? Sure. Smart? Hell no.” He jumped back from his onslaught, his hand resting casually in his pockets. “But hey, if you could even temporarily remove someone’s cursed energy...” His smirk widened. “You’d be terrifying .”

Kugutsu exhaled through her nose. “You say that like I’m not already.”

Gojo laughed, easy and unbothered. “You’re a pain in my ass, Play-Doh, but no. Not terrifying .” His grin remained, but there was something thoughtful behind it. Intrigue.

He didn’t hate the idea.

It was reckless. It was dangerous. It was the kind of thing the higher-ups were terrified she could do when they forced the Binding Vow. But Gojo was intrigued. And if Kugutsu was anything like him, she wasn’t going to let the idea go.

And honestly? That made him excited . She might finally get on their level. If she could sap the cursed energy out of things… it would make her touch not only a nuisance but deadly.

“Gojo, why Play-Doh?” Kugutsu’s voice rang out, interrupting his train of thought.

“Huh?”

“When you first learned about my cursed technique you called me Play-Doh. Why?”

Gojo rocked back on his heels, looking far too pleased with himself, like he had been waiting for this moment. He tapped his temple. “You really never figured it out? And here I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”

Kugutsu narrowed her eyes. “Just tell me.”

Gojo grinned, but there was something sharp behind it, something calculating. He raised a hand, his fingers flexing in the air as if shaping something unseen. “Simple, really. Your technique doesn’t actually let you manipulate other people’s cursed energy. Not exactly.” His grin widened. “It lets you mold your own to a near-perfect replica of another’s. Then, when you connect with your cursed energy– if you do it right– their energy just takes yours as just a part of itself.”

Kugutsu’s brows furrowed, absorbing the information. “So, you’re saying–”

“It’s like a Trojan Horse. A virus sneaking in, pretending it belongs, and once it's inside…” He snapped his fingers. “You can control cursed energy however you want.”

Kugutsu exhaled sharply, taking a step back as she processed it. “That… that's why familiarity is such a big deal. The more I know the better I can imitate.”

Gojo nodded. “Bingo. Your cursed energy is like Play-Doh– malleable, easily shaped into whatever fits. It molds to the energy around it, takes on its properties, blends seamlessly.” He tilted his head, watching her reaction. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that already. But I do get the confusion, not everyone is as blessed with the Six Eyes. ”

“Instead of pretending to let me beat you up, do you mind if I try something then?”

“If you suggest trying to shunt the cursed energy out of my body I will laugh at you and then beat you up.”

“No– maybe– probably not. I’d want to test it on a curse first. See if I could destabilize their cursed energy enough to exorcise it. That's a good idea, probably on a fly head. Just shunt the cursed energy enough to destabilize it and it might just implode and–” She paused, returning to her original thought process.  “ – I just want to figure out if I can enhance you yet.”

Gojo arched an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. “Alright, Play-Doh, I’ll bite. You think you can simulate my cursed energy?” His grin widened, equal parts amused and challenging. “Gotta admit, that’s pretty bold.”

Kugutsu rolled her eyes, placing a hand on his shoulder. She had to focus on his cursed energy. On the infinity of it. Resist how blinding it was. Gojo’s cursed energy was vast, dense, an entire ocean compared to her own.  Like infinity. Like divinity. Like trying to comprehend the vastness of the universe. It was light, pure bright light. But her technique didn’t need to overpower. It just needed to blend.

She let her cursed energy mold itself, shifting to mirror his flow, syncing to the rhythm of his vast reserves. It was like tuning an instrument to match another, subtle adjustments, careful threading. It was much harder when his cursed energy was at its normal levels of power instead of basically almost dying. But she was familiar with his cursed energy now and that made all the difference.

For a brief moment, she felt it click into place.

Gojo stilled slightly, interest sharpening in his features. His body was surrounded in the bright glow of his cursed energy. It only lasted a couple of seconds before Kugutsu had to let up, but he felt it. Gojo was one of the most efficient sorcerers when it came to his use of cursed energy, he did it as easy as breathing. But there was something about having your cursed energy at its max potential that feels as close to a high as possible. A high only a sorcerer in perfect control of their cursed energy could achieve.

Gojo exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as the lingering effects of Kugutsu’s cursed energy– or rather her imitation of his cursed energy, hummed beneath his skin. For those few seconds, it had felt different. Not overwhelming, not foreign– just more. Like the world had sharpened at the edges, like Infinity itself had smoothed out into something even finer, even better.

His Six Eyes had picked up on the exact moment it clicked into place, the precise second Kugutsu’s energy blended seamlessly with his. It wasn’t just an enhancement– it was integration. For those few seconds, his cursed energy had moved like it had always been meant to function that way.

As Kugutsu pulled her hand away, the last remnants of her cursed energy drifted from Gojo’s skin like dissipating embers. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as his smirk curved sharper, amusement flickering behind his Six Eyes.

“You’re really getting there, Play-Doh,” he admitted, tilting his head. “I’d say I’ll take your enhancement any day but that might get too boring. When you get good with it we’ll see about getting me an actual challenge, huh?”

Kugutsu exhaled, shaking the tension from her hands. “I’ll hold you to that.”

For a moment, the air between them was light, easy, the usual push-and-pull of their dynamic settling into something comfortable. But then Gojo’s smirk faltered– just for a fraction of a second, so brief that most wouldn’t have caught it.

“You gonna tell me what’s actually bothering you?”

Kugutsu hesitated. There were a lot of things bothering her, but there was something coming up soon.

“The funeral. It’s later today.”

Gojo’s expression shifted. It wasn’t dramatic– not a frown, not a sigh– but it was a change, subtle enough to be felt rather than seen.

“Yeah,” he said, softer than before.

Silence stretched between them, and for once, neither of them tried to fill it.

Then Gojo clapped his hands together, the sharp sound slicing through the air like a reset. “Well,” he said, too bright, too easy, “if you wanna get stronger before then, I could always beat you up some more.”

Kugutsu chuckled. “Tempting, but I think I’m done getting tossed around for today.”

Gojo grinned, but the usual spark wasn’t quite there. “Suit yourself.”

She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her just before she could step away.

“Hey, Play-Doh.”

She glanced over her shoulder.

“Keep an eye on Suguru when you go… he’s been off recently.”

Haibara’s funeral was not long after. It wasn’t a huge affair. Small and quaint. Kugutsu stood off to the side, her eyes scanning the small gathering. Only a few people made an appearance: Haibara’s immediate family, Yaga-sensei, Nanami, Shoko and Geto. That was really it. She remembers, faintly, Gojo mentioning something about having to be off on a mission. But she wasn’t sure if it was real or if he truly just couldn’t face it here again.

Kugutsu wanted to feel sad about it. She wanted to be able to cry and rip her hair out and curse the world. But she didn’t. No, that's wrong. She did feel sad about it, but not deeply. Not in the way that forced tears to your eyes. Not in the way that made you curl up and never see the world again. Just something numb, ever present in the back of her mind. 

Nanami was taking it much worse than her. She could tell. He was trying to be strong and stoic for Haibara's family, but Kugutsu could tell. Something in the way his posture was straighter than normal. The soft way he shook hands with Haibara’s parents.

Geto was standing away from the others, like an island amidst a sea of mourning. His back was straight, his posture perfect, but there was something about him that was... wrong. His eyes were locked on the horizon, unfocused, as if he was staring into nothingness. The Geto she knew– witty, sharp, always with a smirk on his lips– was nowhere to be found. Kugutsu finally realized that he had been looking like that every time she saw him the last couple of months.

She walked over to him but he didn’t even seem to notice. Kugutsu frowned.

“Geto… are you alright?”

“Is it normal to be alright at a funeral?” He snapped.

Kugutsu flinched and then responded a little quieter that she should “No. I suppose you’re right.”

Geto didn’t respond, his jaw clenching in a way that told her he was barely holding himself together. He muttered a soft apology under his breath, but it felt disconnected, like it wasn’t meant for her. His eyes remained distant, locked on something only he could see. It was as if he wasn’t even there, as if his mind was somewhere else, spiraling out of control.

Kugutsu hesitated, unsure of what to say next. She had always been able to talk to Geto, always been able to connect with him, but now he seemed unreachable. She took a small step closer, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“I didn’t mean right now. I just meant– I haven’t seen you in a while.” 

Geto didn’t respond.

“You know… Geto. I’ve been meaning to ask you. How would you feel if I asked Gojo to transfer the binding vow to you?”

The shock brought Geto out of his daze. 

“It’s just something I’ve been thinking about. Gojo doesn’t need help and I can’t even if he did.” Kugutsu continued, walking forward and sitting next to him. “Plus all the Elder Clan stuff that's going on... I think they want to marry me off. Do the whole… kids thing”

“What?”

“I haven’t told Gojo because he would go crazy and it’s not worth it but they’ve… insinuated it. Something, something bloodline and keeping the Gojo Clan strong.”

Geto didn’t speak immediately. Then he exhaled sharply, his gaze now fixed on the horizon, as though he were seeing something far beyond the funeral procession. 

"I don’t like it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I don’t like it either," Kugutsu admitted, her voice quiet. "But it’s the reality of the situation. And I’ve been trying to figure out a way to deal with it."

Gojo took a moment before responding. “I don’t think Satoru should give me the binding vow.”

“I don’t think so either. Not right now anyway.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I–” Kugutsu hesitated. “ – I wanted to hear your thoughts on it, Suguru. I don’t know if I’m capable of thinking about this logically. If you wanted it or thought it was a good idea then… then I’d trust you.”

Geto lowered himself to sit next to Kugutsu, both of them watching the funeral proceed. It was a lovely thing, somber but sweet in its own horrific way. In the only way mourning a high schooler's death could be.

A few seconds later, Geto reached into his pocket and produced the Hanafuda card. The one they had traded back and forth. The meaningless bloodstained card that one of them always carried with them. 

“I thought I told you I didn’t want it back until the whole vow thing was dealt with?”

He didn’t respond, silently holding the card out for her to take, but she didn't. She didn’t take it, pushing it back into his hand.

“Kugutsu. Take the card.”

She shook her head. “No. It's about the message right? I don’t want it until I have something for myself. So keep it safe.” She looks up at him and for the first time in the conversation it feels like he looks at her rather than through her. “I’ll get it later.”

Geto frowned, his gaze hovering over the funeral, finally coming to its end. His mind drifted towards the non-sorcerers at that tiny town. Greedy things. Cruel things. Parasites trying to steal everything they could from the sorcerers who gave their lives for them. Those things that were the cause of his underclassman’s death– far too young.

The clapping was back again. He was back in that too white room. The clapping. It echoed in his ears. A thousand mocking hands applauding. Applauding the death of a young girl. The clapping. 

He shut his eyes, as if to block it out, but the noise only grew louder. 

            Filthy, 

                               (The Clapping)

                                                              monkeys.

5 DAYS AFTER THE PERSON IN CHARGE OF SUGURU GETO, THIRD YEAR OF JUJUTSU HIGH ARRIVED AT XX VILLAGE, THE CORPSES OF 112 OF ITS INHABITANTS WERE DISCOVERED.

ALL WERE THOUGHT TO BE VICTIMS OF THE CURSED SPIRIT. HOWEVER, ANALYSIS OF THE REMAINS DETERMINED THEY WERE KILLED BY SUGURU GETO’S CURSED SPIRIT MANIPULATION.

UNDER ARTICLE 9. OF THE REGULATIONS OF JUJUTSU, HE IS TO BE EXECUTED ON SIGHT AS A CURSE USER.

Kugutsu found Gojo sitting on the steps outside, his form slouched, one hand cradling his head as if trying to hold together a mind that was falling apart. The usual energy of the man who could bend the world to his will was gone. Gojo, who would laugh and yell and make everyone around him feel his presence, was now strangely quiet. His usual sharp, confident demeanor was nowhere to be found.

Kugutsu’s boots clicked against the stone as she approached him, her gaze fixed on his form. He wasn’t crying– no, Gojo was not the type to break down in front of others. But there was something about the stillness in him that unnerved her.

“Gojo. Did you talk to him?”

“Yeah…” He took off his sunglasses, looking through them pensively. “Yeah I did.” 

“And?”

He exhaled deeply, almost a surrender. “Nothing to do about it, really…” His voice trailed off. 

Kugutsu walked over to the boy, her expression pensive. Gojo glanced up at her, the flicker of his usual smirk struggling to break through the grief, but it came out jagged, forced. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his lips curled in a mockingly playful way. 

“What are you looking at Play-Doh?” He asked, a weak attempt at humor, but the bitterness in his voice betrayed it.

Kugutsu didn’t respond immediately. She simply sat down next to him, her gaze wandering to the sky above them. It reminded Kugutsu of the night sky in Okinawa. Of the sand on her back and the pain in her limbs and the two boys who made their faces known. The two who had beaten her up because she asked. 

“Do you love him?” She asked softly.

Gojo was silent for a long time. She could feel his hesitation, the way the question tugged at something deep inside him. His jaw clenched, and his hand trembled slightly where it rested on his lap, a sign of how much the answer cost him. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment as if searching for the right words.

He took a deep breath. “Yeah….”

Kugutsu hummed in response. She already knew the answer, but she wanted to make sure. Before she offered anything, before she made any decisions. 

“I have a request, Satoru.”

Gojo’s eyes darted to hers. The tension between them thickened, the silence settling like a heavy weight. His reaction was immediate, his gaze snapping to hers, eyes wide with disbelief. The use of his first name caught him off guard, something in the familiarity of it drawing his full attention. 

“Order me to go after him.”

Gojo’s expression twisted, a mixture of confusion and concern crossing his features. 

“Why would I do that?” His voice was sharp, a reflex, but the underlying sorrow was evident. He was struggling to understand, to reconcile what Kugutsu was asking with everything that had already happened.

“Because if you don’t,” she answered, her gaze unwavering as she met his, “the higher-ups will make you do it. And you shouldn’t have to.” Her words were deliberate, heavy with meaning. She wasn’t just speaking of orders or duty– she was speaking of Gojo’s burden. She could see it in him, the guilt, the helplessness. He carried the weight of Suguru’s actions on his shoulders. 

The air between them seemed to freeze, and Gojo stammered, trying to form words, trying to process what she was asking him. "I don’t- you’d kill Sug– I–?" He faltered, his thoughts stumbling over themselves.

Kugutsu's voice remained steady, cutting through his uncertainty like a calm anchor in a storm. "I won’t. I wouldn’t. Just to… keep an eye out.”

Gojo's face twisted into a grimace. “I don’t want you to do that. I– I don’t want you to feel obligated to do anything. I don’t want to use the vow like that– or at all.”

“I’d do it for you either way.”

The words hung in the air between them, thick with unspoken emotions. Gojo’s face tightened, a mixture of frustration and sorrow darkening his expression as he struggled with what Kugutsu had just said. He was used to being the one who made the calls, the one who would shoulder the burden, but this was different. He could sense the weight in Kugutsu’s voice, the finality behind her words. 

“You don’t have to,” Gojo insisted, his voice low, strained. “I’d never order that.”

“That's okay.” 

The silence between them deepened. Gojo wanted to argue. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to, that they didn’t need to cross that line. But the truth was, he knew this wasn’t just her request– it was her choice. 

Kugutsu was not one for physical contact. In most cases she absolutely detested it but in this moment, the emotional side of herself she had kept prisoner for so long felt compelled. She slid closer to Gojo and put an arm around him. It was not overtly close, it really was nothing special, but Gojo recognized the weight of it. Recognized the effort Kugutsu was demonstrating, the empathy.

The two sat there for a long while, the silence between them not uncomfortable, but laden with the unspoken weight of the choice that had been made. Kugutsu was making a choice not just for herself, but for them both.

And for the first time in a long while, Gojo allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, someone could be trusted to carry the weight he wasn’t sure he could hold any longer.

Chapter Text

Kugutsu sat on her couch, a towel draped over her forehead as she nursed the familiar burn of cursed energy that made her body sputter and shake. The box sat beside her, its smooth surface reflecting the dim light of the television. Her cursed energy still pulsed in uneven waves, raw and spent from earlier. The dull throb behind her eyes was a steady, pulsing reminder– this was going to take more than just effort.

The news flickered across the screen, muted colors bleeding into the darkened room. Kugutsu rarely watched the news. The struggles of non-sorcerers had always felt distant, insignificant compared to the battles she fought in the shadows. But of course, Shibuya was different.

“Tokyo’s Shibuya district remains in a state of devastation following what experts are calling the worst large-scale terrorist attack in modern history–”

The voice of the anchor was calm, practiced, so at odds with the carnage playing behind her that it almost felt perverse. The footage cut between shaky phone recordings and aerial shots of the wreckage. Buildings collapsed inward, entire blocks reduced to rubble. Blood splattered across glass and pavement, the flames of still-burning fires licking hungrily at the ruins.

It was a shit show. 

Kugutsu watched on unblinking. 

Should she have stayed? Fought a few minutes more? Would it have mattered? Would she have saved anyone– stopped anything? No. No, she wasn’t stupid enough to think she could’ve changed this. Maybe she could have saved a few civilians but she didn’t have the power to force the tide of war in her favor. She could help. She could assist. On a few occasions even stand on her own. But she was no Satoru Gojo. 

And she already gave everything she had before deciding to cut her losses and do something more useful with her technique. What's done is done . Because if she let herself start to wonder what could have been she would drown in her own regrets.

Kugutsu forced herself to exhale, turning off the TV. Her gaze flickering to the box beside her. 

What a shit show indeed.

Her phone buzzed. A low innocuous thing. 

Kugutsu ignored it, rolling her thumb over the towel at her temple. No one ever called her. Not unless they needed something. And with Shibuya in ruins, she doubted there was anything left to need.

It buzzed again.

But with everything happening in Shibuya, all the mess going on. Why in the world would anyone contact her? She opened her phone and froze at the words on screen.

NOTICE FROM JUJUTSU HEADQUARTERS

1. SUGURU GETO’S SURVIVAL WAS CONFIRMED. WE HEREBY DECLARE THE REINSTATEMENT OF HIS DEATH SENTENCE
2. SATORU GOJO HAS BEEN DEEMED AN ACCOMPLICE IN THE SHIBUYA INCIDENT AND IS HEREBY EXPELLED FROM JUJUTSU SOCIETY. IN ADDITION ANY ATTEMPT TO FREE HIM WILL BE DEEMED A CRIME.
3. KUGUTSU SONE, DESIGNATED PROPERTY OF SATORU GOJO, IS HEREBY ORDERED INTO CUSTODY FOR REASSIGNMENT. ALL EFFORTS ARE TO BE MADE TO ENSURE HER PROMPT APPREHENSION.
4. MASAMICHI YAGA IS SENTENCED TO DEATH FOR INCITING SATORU GOJO AND SUGURU GETO, CAUSING THE SHIBUYA INCIDENT.
5. THE SUSPENSION OF YUJI ITADORI’S DEATH SENTENCE IS HEREBY REVOKED, AND HIS EXECUTION SHALL BE CARRIED OUT PROMPTLY.
6. SPECIAL-GRADE SORCERER YUTA OKOTSU SHALL BE APPOINTED AS YUJI ITADORI’S EXECUTIONER. 

Oh. 

Oh No. 

Her fingers squeezed the phone till the screen threatened the crack, reading and re reading the words in front of her. The higher-ups were not just retaliating against the carnage of Shibuya. They were cleaning house. And… Suguru? How was he even...?

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She didn’t think anyone knew where she was. She wasn’t open like that. Only those closest to her had visited and that was a very short list. Did anyone know she had the box? Someone had to know. If they knew it was her did they also know where she was? Could they track the box? 

She was already moving before her brain could catch up. If there was even a chance they knew where she was, she had to move. Now. Thankfully, Kugutsu was not a material girl. She had very few things she could truly call her own. A single bag is all she needed for her most essentials, with just a little bit of extra room for one small square prison. 

She didn’t know where she was going, but obviously staying here was no longer an option. She might be able to crash on Nanami’s couch, but Kugutsu wasn’t comfortable bringing that kind of heat to the simple man’s doorstep. That was a last resort.

She was just about to reach for the door handle when a sound made her freeze in her tracks.

A knock on the other side of the door.

It was sharp and deliberate. Not frantic. Not angry. Not unfamiliar.

Another knock, softer and more patient still. Followed by a voice.

“Sone…?” A voice.

She inhaled sharply, heart hammering in her throat. She would always recognize that voice.

But whether that was a good thing or a very, very bad thing–

She didn’t know yet.

Chapter Text

There were a few benefits to Kugutsu’s… “expanded” role within the Gojo Clan. For one, she (mostly) fell outside of the purview of Jujutsu High’s Higher-Ups. She had her own place to call home– a small little thing all to herself. And out of the way, a secluded little thing only Gojo and Nanmi knew about. Gojo had a stipend sent to her monthly as “funds for the mission”. She still trained with him, and occasionally talked with Nanami too. She wasn’t the best at reaching out to others on a whim but Nanami was much the same. They had always been the practical sort. 

 When things were really bad in the sorcerer world, she would show up at the infirmary unannounced and help Shoko deal with all the injured, half-dead sorcerers crawling their way back after a particularly bad mission. And she would leave just as quick. Shoko was a good cover and she couldn’t deny that Kugutsu was above all things helpful. 

When she wasn’t doing one of those, she was keeping tabs on Geto. Just tracking his movements, what he was up to, who he talked to. Kugutsu felt a bit like a stalker in a strange way but she preferred to think of it as a private investigator. She made sure he stayed… within the bounds of comfort. He hadn’t done anything that would make the higher ups put unneeded pressure on Gojo to go handle things and that was good. Kugutsu even cleaned up after some of his… less subtle goons once. Bad time for everyone involved, but only minor injuries to any civilians. Geto might have lost a few curses but… well he was the one to let them run amuck.

She had just finished another emotional support call with Nanami. He didn’t show it outwardly, but he was really anxious about his decision to leave Jujutsu Sorcery behind. Kugutsu knew that she was probably the only person he could talk to about his decision that didn’t have a personal agenda. All sorcerers want more competent sorcerers in the workforce– it's the nature of their jobs. Kugutsu though… Her situation was strange, which meant she could make sure he kept his head on straight. She didn’t particularly care which way he went so long as he was happy with himself in the end. She didn’t work within the bounds of a typical sorcerer so him staying in or out of the practice wouldn’t harm her the least.

Nanami’s voice still echoed in her mind, the hesitation, the uncertainty. Nanami wasn’t the type to make decisions lightly. Everything about him was calculated, deliberate. He didn’t rush, but when he made up his mind, it was clear. But this? This was different.

“I’m just... tired, Kugutsu,” Nanami had admitted. “Tired of the blood, the endless battles. It’s not what I signed up for. But leaving– if I leave, then what?”

“You don’t owe anyone anything Nanami,” She had replied. “And if anyone ever says otherwise they’re dead wrong. Do what's best for your life, not someone else's.” She felt a little hypocritical saying that last line. It didn’t mean she didn’t believe it. At least for him.

And it was something she was starting to believe. Or trying to. The distance from all the obligations in her life was helping with that. Gojo’s binding vow was still present but he wouldn’t enforce it. Not unless he thought it was really important or just a little too funny. It… unsettled Kugutsu, the fact that it was something he would probably hold over her for the rest of her life… but there were worse people to have that kind of power over her. And the two had come to their own agreements. It was just a fact of life now.

She looked at the clock on the far side of her new home and squinted. It was probably time to start her now daily routine. She sent a quick text to Gojo with where she was going and her estimated time. Just in case the worst happened.

Kugutsu had heard rumors of a dark haired man in monk robes taking up residence in a temple nearby. It was an old rundown thing, a temple past its prime, but probably still useful to his goals. It had all the markings of his usual haunts. Calm, serene, secluded and with a sort of performative quality that she quickly learned he loved. Kugutsu hid in a nearby tree, patrolling the area’s cursed energy signatures, something that had become second nature to her.

And then, for the first time in years, she saw him. Dressed in monk’s robes with a smile plastered over his face, Suguru Geto. She had heard of him, followed rumors and tales. Kept an eye on his cursed energy signal but to see him in the flesh again… Kugutsu’s grip tightened around the tree branch beneath her, the cursed energy humming in her veins as she focused on him. He seemed… happy, as he moved about the temple grounds, seemingly lost in thought.

And despite her better judgement, Kugutsu flared her cursed energy and the air around her seemed to vibrate with intensity. She knew he would feel it. Suguru Geto was no ordinary sorcerer. His senses were sharp, and his understanding of cursed energy was second to none. She told herself it was a calculated risk, but one she couldn’t resist. She was morbidly curious. How would he react? Where did they stand after so long? But truly… maybe it was just natural that her cursed energy would flare with her emotions. With the shock of watching him walk around so… casually.

She watched as Geto’s movements slowed, the peaceful smile still on his face, but now there was something more calculated in his eyes. A slight tilt of his head, as though he was listening, feeling the shift in the atmosphere that she had created.

For a long moment, nothing happened. The smile on his face remained, but his posture changed ever so subtly, as though he was readying himself, prepared for whatever might come next. Kugutsu couldn’t tell if he was expecting her or if he was simply that attuned to his surroundings, but the tension in the air thickened.

And then, slowly, Geto turned toward the tree where Kugutsu was hidden, his eyes narrowing just a fraction, as though he could sense the faintest trace of her presence within the cursed energy. But Kugutsu refused to move. She would wait until he made the first move.

And he did.

“Hey, Kugutsu!” He raised a hand casually in greeting. “Long time no see, want to come on a walk with me?” He sounded… lighter than last time.

Kugutsu quickly maneuvered from tree to tree until she could sit on one of the marble arches nearest to the man.

“Well, everyone else got a special talk with you before you left. Should I be offended?” The tone between them was casual, but something strained settled underneath each word.

His eyes gleamed with something akin to amusement, as though he’d expected this. “Well… in my defense I didn’t know what state you would be in if I saw you. Binding vow and all that.” He waved his hand dismissively, but Kugutsu saw the way his lips tilted downward ever so briefly on the words. 

“No… just here on my own actually.”

“Ah! Well then, I’m glad you’re here. I really didn’t want to risk you being forced to execute me on sight. That wouldn’t be good for either of us now, would it?” His hands settled into his too long sleeves.

Kugutsu didn’t respond, she didn’t break eye contact, studying him carefully. There was an odd sense of calm around him now, almost too serene. 

“I was wondering when the sorcerer tailing me would finally say hello,” he mused. “I’m glad it was not some half-baked assassin.”

“You’re happy to have a more competent sorcerer tailing you?”

“No. I’m happy it's you.” He corrected, easily. “If it was some nobody, they’d get cocky, think they could take me in a fight. That would be... inconvenient. I have no anger towards sorcerers.”

“Just non-sorcerers right?”

Geto’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a subtle sharpness in his gaze as he met Kugutsu’s question. His posture was relaxed, yet the air around him seemed to hum with a quiet, simmering intensity. The calm of the moment contrasted with the dangerous undercurrent that seemed to flow beneath his words.

“Exactly,” he said, his voice smooth. “Those monkeys are the reason sorcerers have bloody thankless deaths far too young. They are the cause for all the cursed spirits that infect our world.” 

He was so… casual now. It was strange. The Geto Kugutsu knew was so honor bound. Yes he would joke, and play and smirk. He was a little too arrogant in all the wrong places. But this man wasn’t arrogant, he almost looked… unrestrained. Unleashed.

“I didn’t come here to be recruited.”

“You could, you know. Walk away from all of it,” he said. “The higher-ups. The binding vow. The weight of being someone else’s tool. The way they move you around the chessboard… It's a little sad, honestly. For someone of your talent and potential…”

She didn’t respond.

“Bound by a vow that doesn’t serve you, surrounded by people who see you as a function. I don’t blame you for staying, but… don’t you ever want to be free of it all?.”

“I’m perfectly free.”

Geto sighed, shaking his head. “You have a leash. Satoru just doesn’t pull it. He is kind like that.”

Kugutsu exhaled through her nose, willing herself not to react. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Her tone dripped with sarcasm but there was something  appealing about the notion. She would keep that feeling buried deep within her. It was probably just because it was Geto saying it. Nothing more. He always had a way with words.

“Please let me know if you change your mind.”

 Kugutsu held his gaze for a moment longer, measuring the subtle shift in his expression, the quiet understanding that lingered in his eyes. It wasn’t just an offer. It was an invitation, an open door that would always be there. That was what made it so dangerous. Suguru Geto wasn’t asking for her allegiance; he was offering her the freedom to walk away from everything that bound her, from the endless cycle of sorcery, from the twisted politics of Jujutsu High, from the higher-ups, the binding vow, the bloodshed. An offer from someone who had looked out for her during some of her darkest times back then. Her hand subconsciously tightened around the stone arch she sat on, her nails pressing into the marble. 

“Satoru Gojo sends his regards.”

Geto’s expression flickered for the briefest of moments, his lips quirking in an almost imperceptible smirk as he processed Kugutsu’s words. 

“Satoru, huh?” His voice was even, but there was an underlying sharpness to it now. “He always has a way of sending his thoughts without actually saying much. It’s typical.”

Kugutsu didn’t break eye contact, still feeling that strange mix of tension and intrigue in the air between them. 

“He doesn’t do ‘regards’ much, but he means it. You know he does.” Kugutsu watched his expression, watching as despite Geto’s best attempts his entire face softened just at the thought of him.

“You are right about that.”

Silence settled between them. Filled with memories of a time long gone.

“I'll be keeping an eye on you. Don’t do anything stupid and I won't either.”

Geto grinned. “I look forward to it, Kugutsu.”

The air between them crackled with a subtle tension as Kugutsu stood up from the stone arch, her eyes never leaving Geto. For all of Geto’s big talks about monkeys and genocide… he hadn’t done a lot of what he set out to do.. Mostly just empty posturing and leading his strange cult. So despite everything, Kugutsu couldn’t help but see the man he used to be. Despite the distance between them, their exchange felt oddly intimate. Oddly reminiscent. 

“I’ll see you around, Geto.”

She turned to leave before hesitating. She reached up to touch something just faintly out of her vision. One of Geto’s curses. Tiny, almost imperceptible. Trying to make its way into one of her pockets. She raised an eyebrow at him. 

He laughed, a real genuine smile plastered on his lips. “You can’t blame me for trying can you?”

“If you want to find me, do it yourself. I didn’t take you for the lazy type.” She crushed the curse in her hand, exorcising it. “I’ll be around. You won’t see me.”

Then she really did leave feeling his gaze on her back, even as she walked away. He had always been perceptive like that, able to read people with a single glance. Maybe that was what had made him so dangerous– and so captivating to an audience. But Kugutsu knew better than to let herself get caught in the web of his words. He was still the same, good and bad. It would be easier if he was different. 

She made it back to her humble abode without incident, softly closing the door behind her. She wasn’t sure if she regretted talking to her old mentor or not. 

She laid on her couch staring at her phone. With a heavy sigh she called Gojo, it would be unfair to him if she didn’t tell him about what just happened.

The phone rang once, twice, and then Gojo's familiar voice came through the line, teasing but with an edge of concern.

“Hey, Kugutsu. What's up? I figured you'd be back soon– was just about to check in. Everything okay?”

She leaned back against the couch, her legs stretched out in front of her, still feeling the weight of the conversation she’d just had with Geto.

“Yeah, everything is fine. I can confirm though that monk thread I’ve been following? It’s him.”

“Really… Suguru as some monk?”

“Yeah. Robes and all.” Gojo’s laughter was light, almost as if the image of Geto wearing those robes was more amusing than anything else. 

“That’s gotta be a new low, even for him. Guess he’s really going for the ‘serene’ thing now, huh?”

There was a pause. And then.

“Did you talk”

“Yeah.”

“Did he try?”

“To kill me? No we just talked–”

“No.” Gojo interrupted. “Try and convince you.”

Kugutsu ran a hand through her hair, still feeling the weight of the conversation with Geto. “Yeah. Basically. He said there’s a place for me by his side, away from everything. The higher-ups, the vows, the bloodshed….” 

Gojo was silent for a moment, just the sound of his breathing. 

“You’re not gonna leave too?” It was a joke. She could hear the forced casualness, the attempt to make it sound light. But there was something beneath it. Something raw.

“No. I’ve got no need to. I told you I wouldn’t.”

She heard Gojo exhale on the other end, a long breath of relief. Something small. 

“I think– I think I’m gonna become a teacher at Jujutsu High.” Gojo spoke, his voice soft.

Kugutsu blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah, who wouldn’t want to be trained by the strongest.”

Kugutsu chuckled, “I could think of a couple of reasons why training with you sucks majorly.”

Gojo blew a raspberry into the phone “You wound me,” He paused, his voice taking a more serious tone. “Really though what happened to us… shouldn’t have happened.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice soft but steady.

Gojo sighed heavily, his words coming slow as if he was carefully choosing them. “You know… everything that went down with your trial, the way things turned out with Geto, Riko, even Shoko…It wasn’t supposed to go like this. And the people who let that happen are all still there.”

Kugutsu paused, her response measured. 

“What does that mean for me?”

“You can just stay doing what you’re doing and when I’m inevitably clueless about some support cursed technique I’ll call you down and you can help. Or you can come teach full time if you want– not sure the higher ups will be thrilled but who cares about them.”

“And Geto?”

“You can still keep eyes on him. Just do both. Or don’t.”

Kugutsu chuckled. Always quick with the corrections. Careful words between them two. Like dancing on a tightrope.

“How about you try it out first and let me know if it's worth my time. I’ll think about it.”

Gojo’s voice came back through the phone, a little lighter now but with that characteristic edge of mischief that's been sorely missed..

“You know, Play-Doh," he started, his tone taking on a knowing quality, "Just because you’re saying no now doesn’t mean you won’t be helping me eventually. You know how these things go. You’ll get dragged back in. Probably to fix some disaster I caused.”

Kugutsu rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the soft laugh that followed.

“Oh, so now I’m your personal fixer?”

“I mean, you’re the best at what you do. It’s practically a requirement,” Gojo continued, playful but with a hint of sincerity. “Besides, what's the point of the whole binding vow if I can’t use it for our mutual benefit.”

“And I suppose you’ll make it worth my while, right? No dragging me into your chaos without some compensation, Gojo.”

“Of course," Gojo replied with mock innocence. "I’ll throw in some free coffee, maybe even a high-five. What more could you want?"

Kugutsu laughed again, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

She paused, looking at her phone for a moment before speaking again, her voice low and conspiratorial. “Hey Gojo, did you find any of that info I asked for?”

He sighed on the other end. “Nothing really, which is weird because I should be able to find at least something. Your cursed technique is apparently an enigma to even in the records I totally didn’t get my hands on.”

Kugutsu’s brows furrowed slightly, a mix of concern and frustration flickering across her face. She had expected answers, or at least a lead, but now it seemed like she was hitting a dead end.

“That’s not exactly reassuring,” she muttered under her breath, trying to hide the tension that had settled into her shoulders. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been counting on Gojo’s help, how much she had trusted that he could pull through where others couldn’t.

There was a pause on the other end, Gojo’s voice breaking through the silence with a hint of playfulness, trying to lighten the mood.

“Don’t worry,” he said, the usual smirk in his tone. “You know I always come through.”

“I just didn’t want it to be a big deal. Was hoping I just had some kind of mutation. Maybe even just a different version of my cousin’s technique.”

“Yeah well… I’ll keep poking where I shouldn't until I find something.”
“Thanks.” She paused, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Do you think I should stop sending them money? Or go visit?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Kugutsu could hear Gojo shifting, the faint sound of fabric rustling as he likely leaned back in his chair, thinking.

“You don’t owe them anything,” he said finally, his voice quieter than before. “That’s the thing about family. Just because they raised you doesn’t mean they get to own you.”

“Sure, but–”

“They probably don’t deserve a visit from you. But if you want the truth, that’s where you’ll find it.” Gojo concluded.

Deserve.

It was an interesting word choice, Kugutsu noted. It brought something deeply wrong to her mind and it settled uneasily in her mind, like a piece of glass wedged between thoughts. A stray thought threatened to rake through her body and destroy all the forward progress she had made outside of her family.

What did she deserve if she wasn’t useful? 

It sent a sharp, electric discomfort through her body. She had spent so long without anyone to be obedient to it made her skin crawl. It felt like something was missing, like a computer with no input. 

Why wasn’t she being useful? 

She didn’t deserve all this. She deserved to serve.

Her fingers twitched involuntarily, her cursed energy flickering in response to the thought. A habit. Something ingrained. The compulsion to act, to perform, to earn her place and–

Gojo’s voice cut through the static in her mind, bright and unbothered.

“Hey earth to Play-Doh? You still there?”

Kugutsu blinked, exhaling slowly through her nose, grounding herself in the present.

“Yeah, sorry… I was just thinking...”

All cursed techniques had a lineage. Even mutations had traceable origins. Some were sporadic, appearing in non-sorcerers like a diamond in the rough but the techniques themselves were based on something. Kugutsu’s Play-Doh Technique as Gojo so annoyingly put it, didn’t have any origin or precedent. It was unheard of for someone to be able to manipulate their cursed energy enough to perfectly match another's, especially not to the point of tricking their cursed energy into believing it's a part of them. On paper, her technique was just “cursed energy manipulation”, a vague classification, one that could apply to dozens of different abilities. But Six Eyes had peeled back the layers, uncovering the truth even she hadn’t realized. 

“Well, try not to think too hard, you're probably not used to it up there.”

“You are so annoying.”

“Whatever you say, Play-Doh.”

Kugutsu stared at the swirling designs of her palms. What the hell was wrong with her?

Chapter Text

A few days later, Kugutsu made the hard decision to visit her familial home. She hadn’t even been in the area since Utahime’s family took her in all those years ago. It was strange, the thought of ever returning to that place. She held no joy in her heart from her time as a child– most of it was just a blur of unyielding sentiments. Words that in repetition become a cacophony that cycled over and over and over again.

Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful. Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.

Be still.

Still…  

That was a new one. She shook the thought away. New but unimportant to her daily routine. To her hermit-dom from most of the sorcerer world.

It had taken a long time away to adjust to the world outside her family's home. How others saw her subservience as strange, how they worried over her well being rather than her use. And to return felt like willingly walking into the mouth of a dragon, hoping it wouldn’t swallow her whole. But she was an adult now. 

Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful. Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful. Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.

Be malleable.

Kugutsu stared at her closet, her eyes darting back and forth between the many different articles of clothing hung meticulously within it. She wasn’t one to care for how she dressed. Something practical, comfortable that didn’t get in the way but still presented her well. That's all she really cared for. But something about visiting her family made her think twice. As if the clothes she wore would determine whether or not that dragon would look her way. She decided upon something a bit more reserved. Something that she hoped wouldn’t stand out to her parents traditional sensibilities. A spare Miko outfit she remembered wearing rather frequently as a child. A blue skirt, a white shirt. Nothing extreme or out of place. She braided her hair like she used to too. Forming two braids that hung just a little lower than her shoulders. She hesitated, her hands shaking as she finished the last twist for her braid. But it wasn’t the same. She had grown.

Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.

Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.

Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.

Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.

Be precise.

She didn’t look like herself in the mirror. She looked like a distant memory of herself. Clouded by fog and time.

The train ride was quiet. She spent most of her time reading and texting Nanami. He had finally chosen to leave Jujutsu Society. It was only a matter of time, but still she was happy for him. She would eventually go over and give him some kind of house warming present for wherever he ended up. 

She sent him a quick message.

[Kugutsu] - Congrats on finally making the choice.

[K. Nanami ] - It’s strangely anti-climactic.

[Kugutsu] - Well, you are moving from magic world to normal world so that makes sense

[K. Nanami ] - I suppose.

[K. Nanami ] - Will you ever do it? Do you regret staying?

She didn’t answer immediately. It would be a lie to say she never wished to be rid of this world but she didn’t regret it. In Kugutsu's mind there had never been any other choice. She didn’t have a choice. 

Kugutsu tapped her fingers against the spine of her book, a soft, rhythmic pattern against the worn leather. She wasn’t sure if choice had ever been something afforded to her. Not really. She had simply followed the road laid before her, kept walking, never daring to look back.

She exhaled, typing her response.

[Kugutsu] - No, but things could have been different. 

Nanami didn’t reply right away, but that was fine. He understood the weight of those words better than most.

She put her phone away, closing her book, and glanced out the train window. The landscape blurred past in streaks of muted green and gray, but there was a distinct, unshakable feeling creeping up her spine.

Like she was being watched.

It wasn’t an immediate realization. It was something gradual, creeping. A discomfort that settled beneath her skin, just barely noticeable at first, like a whisper at the back of her mind.

Then it grew.

She forced herself to breathe evenly, her expression carefully blank, but her muscles tensed.

This felt familiar.

Like the feeling of kneeling before someone who expected obedience.

Like the feeling of standing in a room where she did not belong.

Like the feeling of a hand adjusting her braid with too much precision.

Her fingers twitched.

But there was no one there. The train car was half-empty. The passengers were scattered about, engaged in their own lives, oblivious to her sudden tension. A woman adjusted her coat. A student flipped a page in his textbook. A businessman checked his watch. Normal. Everything was normal. Except for the fact that her heart was racing.

She texted Gojo. Something quick, her hands trembling. Just where she was going, how long she expected to be. Kugutsu clenched her fists, forcing herself to relax. She spent the rest of the ride watching the blurred scenery pass by, waiting for something to happen.

But nothing did.

Kugutsu Sone stared at her childhood home, only vaguely remembering what it must have looked like in her youth. It was a small unassuming thing, cramped between other buildings just like it. 

She hesitated at the gate. The latch was rusty, worn out with age and time. But the parents Kugutsu remembered would never allow something like rust to enter the proximity of their house. Especially somewhere so visible to guests and passerbys. It was important to maintain good public appearances. 

She kept walking forward, past the gate and towards the front door. She reached for the door handle, only to note that the door opened with nothing but the breeze. Something was wrong.

And then it hit her. The stench of rotting decay. Of charcoal and ashes. Her pace quickened, rushing inside to investigate. Her home was in ruins, the remnants of a fire long past, scorching the edges of her home, painting its corners and it's hard to reach places in an ashy black. It wasn’t recent. This had happened a long time ago. 

She kept walking, past the living room and the kitchen, towards where the stench was foulest.

Two bodies, in their own bed. Two corpses. A mother and father she did not love. Their faces turned in horror, their eyes bloodshot. Their skin rotten and flaking away. Her breath caught in her throat. But surprisingly in comparison to the ash and fire that coated the house, small tinges of slowly melting ice covered the corners of her fathers mouth. Clung to the stringy remains of her mothers hair. It was odd, a detail she would later recall with mixed confusion but that she was not capable of processing. Not now.

She closed the door, softly. As if they were only asleep. As if a noise too loud would wake them in rage. As if they would yell at her for being loud, for being present, for being there. It was a childish thought, but it pervaded every corner of her mind. Kugutsu struggled to compose herself. To even out her breathing. There was still one more room to investigate. And she could barely force her limbs to move.

Slowly but surely, she made her way to her bedroom, cringing as the door’s creak echoing through the empty home. Too loud. Surprisingly, her room was left mostly untouched. Some charring touched its corners but the damage was relatively minor. Her small bed sat in a corner, its bedding made and pillows fluffed. A small desk sat on the other, her old textbooks and classwork still neatly folded in its drawers. Nothing was wrong, or different. It just was. Strangely still in comparison to the destruction that permeated the rest of the home.

Except, under her bed in a box Kugutsu knew she didn’t put there, was a mask hidden under layers and layers of Kugutsu’s old childhood robes. It was simple, a white mask. Sleek with no features on its face. As Kugutsu reached out to grab it–

A sharp, searing burn shot through her palm, like her hand had been pressed against scorching metal. Her marks, the strange ones on her palms that had always been there, pulsed, rejecting the contact. Or perhaps welcoming it she wasn’t sure. Overwhelming was definitely the correct word.

The mask fell from her grip, clattering to the wooden floor. And then she saw it, on the back of it, the part that would be flush to the wearer’s face was a familiar pattern. A string of designs that resembled the ones on her palms in all but shape. The color, the design and style all the same. She tried to pick it up again–

Burn .

Something deeper this time. Something under just the physical sensation of the flesh. She frowned, her gaze unyielding from the featureless object. In the back of her mind, she smelt the rot of her parents and the burn of her home. She felt the sting in her skin and her cursed energy.

She did really the only thing she could do. One ring, two rings and–

“Hey, everything alright with familial love?” Gojo’s voice came through the phone, light and airy. 

“Satoru, Please come as soon as you can.” Kugutsu’s voice sounded foreign to her far away and distant. Even to herself.

The silence stretched long after she ended the call.

The mask lay on the floor where she had dropped it, the back still facing upward, the markings staring at her like an unfinished sentence. Her hand throbbed. She turned it over, flexing her fingers. The skin wasn’t burned, not in the way that matched the pain, but she could still feel it. The echo of pain, the way her cursed energy recoiled like a body rejecting an organ that didn’t belong. 

She waited for Gojo by the front door. Leaning by the home’s front like some kind of guard dog. She couldn’t be inside anymore. The smell was too much, and the questions lingered in the air. Every breath she took in that house felt wrong. Her memories of what was and what is and what she had become battling for dominance. It made her head hurt. All her instincts felt wrong, all her thoughts not her own and yet completely hers and hers alone.

The shift in cursed energy was immediate. Even if she hadn’t called him, she would have known the moment he arrived. His presence was suffocating. A force that bent the space around it, demanding attention. She was happy for it, something to distract her senses from the bounding of her cursed energy. Like spraying harsh perfume over the smell of a rotting meal left in the sun.

Gojo stood at the gate, his sunglasses slid slightly down his nose. 

“I wasn’t expecting a happy family reunion but this…” He walked over to Kugutsu, hands casually in his pocket. “Real bad huh?”

Gojo didn’t stop at the door. He walked past her, into the ruined home, his gaze sweeping over the scorched walls, the remnants of a life left behind. He didn’t speak at first– just took it in.

“You call me just ‘cause you wanted a shoulder to cry on, or is there something weird?”

“Have I ever needed a ‘shoulder to cry on’ before?” Kugutsu snapped.

“So where is the weird shit then?”

She took a deep breath leading him inside. She paused at the door her parents were behind, muttering a quick ‘bodies’ before continuing on her way. Gojo didn’t do much, just slowly nodded and followed her on her path. 

Eventually they made their way to her room.

“So this is where baby Play-Doh used to kick it?”

It didn’t take long for him to identify the strange mask on the ground. He crouched down, his fingers lightly thrumming against the floorboards next to it. He didn’t touch it, not yet. He just stared. After a moment, he turned his head slightly, glancing up at her over the edge of his sunglasses.

“I assume this is the weird thing ‘cause otherwise what else is in your freaky house?”

Kugutsu just stared at the sorcerer. 

“Have you touched it?”

She nodded.

“And…?”

“It burned me.”

Gojo’s brow lifted slightly. “Burned?”

She nodded.

“Show me.”

With a sigh she reached down and touched the mask. As soon as her skin made contact the pain and burn consumed her senses. It didn’t take long, probably less than a second but the pain lingered a little even after. 

Gojo’s eyes sharpened, glancing between the mask and the designs on Kugutsu’s palm. Then without warning he picked up the mask, holding it between two fingers right in front of his eyes. 

“What a weird little thing.”

“Not helpful.” Kugutsu noted with a mix of relief and frustration that it had no effect on him.

Gojo hummed, looking back at the mask. “Feels like an old contract.”

Kugutsu’s breath hitched. “Contract?”

He nodded. “Binding vows can be… weird, especially the old ones. Some of them are deeply ingrained in the body. This one’s got that kind of feel.”

“Meaning?”

Gojo stood, brushing off his pants. “Meaning this thing wasn’t just meant to be worn.” His gaze flickered to her, a rare seriousness settling into his tone. “It was meant to claim you.”

Kugutsu felt something cold crawl up her spine.

“Claim me?”

Gojo tapped the side of his head. “Not literally. Probably. But yeah, this is old stuff. Pre-Jujutsu High. Pre-Sorcery Reformation. This kind of thing was used in Heian-era contracts. Back in the day, some sorcerers that were powerful enough could make binding vows for others. They had to be written down and the process was long and arduous and the requirements around the whole thing made it all unreasonably complex especially when it came down to cursed energy but–”

He paused, tilting his head before glancing back at the mask “ – someone made this for you.”

Kugutsu took a deep breath, trying to restrain all the emotions that wanted to rip themselves from her chest.

“I’m getting pretty sick and tired of contracts and binding vows, Satoru.”

Gojo’s expression twitched. It was not quite a smirk, not quite a frown. Just something in between, something rare.

“Yeah,” he muttered, tossing the mask lightly in his hand before catching it again. “Can’t say I blame you.”

Kugutsu exhaled slowly, pressing her fingers against her temple. “And you’re sure?”

Gojo hummed, turning the mask over in his hands. “It’s got all the markers of an old one. But the thing about vows like this? They’re usually tied to a purpose.” He glanced at her, Six Eyes gleaming behind the tint of his sunglasses.

“And that’s what we’re missing, Play-Doh. What the hell were you supposed to be?” Kugutsu’s stomach twisted, but she refused to let it show on her face.

Gojo tossed the mask onto her bed with a careless flick of his wrist. “You said this place burned down a while ago, yeah?”

She nodded, swallowing.

He clicked his tongue. “Then someone left this here on purpose. Someone wanted you to find it.”

Her breath hitched. He wasn’t wrong.

The fire was old, that much was obvious. Her parents had been dead for who knows how long. But the mask was untouched. Perfect. Not even a hint of ash on its smooth white surface. Like it had been placed here long after everything else had crumbled.

That meant someone knew she’d come back. And wanted her to.

Kugutsu shuddered, forcing her thoughts to slow. Think. Process. Keep it together.

Gojo must have noticed her tension because he sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “Okay, Play-Doh. You’re doing that thing where you get all in your head again.”

She shot him a glare. “Don’t patronize me.”

“Not patronizing.” He grinned. “Just reminding you that life’s already weird enough. A little Heian-era contract on top of it? Please. We’ve seen worse.”

Kugutsu didn’t dignify that with a response.

Old Jujutsu contracts. Binding vows that lasted beyond a person’s life. A mask that reacted to her and only her. And her parents. Her parents, who raised her for nothing but obedience. 

What had they been preparing her for?

What had she almost become?

She clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms. “I need to find out where they came from.”

Gojo tilted his head. “You mean your parents?”

She nodded. “I never asked before. Never thought about it. But everything I know I only know because they told me. And if this mask means anything, then it means I was never supposed to end up at Jujutsu High.”

She turned to face him fully.

“I need to know who raised me, and why.”

Gojo was quiet for a moment, unreadable behind his glasses. 

“Alright,” he said. “Then let’s find out.”

Chapter Text

Become Clay

Kugutsu leaned against the desk, one hand gripping her phone as she scrolled through the documents laid out before her. She exhaled sharply, thumb hovering over the call button for a moment before pressing down.

“Hey Utahime, I’ve got a question for you.”

There was a brief pause on the other end before Utahime answered, voice tinged with mild suspicion. “Uh… okay?”

Kugutsu closed her eyes. “Do you remember anything about when your family took me in?”

A beat of silence. Then, Utahime’s voice was slower, thoughtful. “No. No- Kugutsu what's going on?”

Kugutsu ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t know yet.” She hesitated, pressing the phone closer to her ear. “Can you ask your parents? See if they remember anything?”

Utahime made a noise of concern. “You’re starting to sound like Gojo. That’s never a good sign.”

Kugutsu smirked, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Just humor me.”

“Fine,” Utahime sighed. “I’ll ask. But you owe me an explanation.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, I really appreciate it.” Kugutsu hung up before Utahime could interrogate her further.

Kugutsu sighed, her head falling heavily against the desk in front of her. This whole thing was more stress than it was worth… probably.

Kugutsu’s next step in her investigation was almost unsurprisingly at Jujutsu High. She hadn’t come back here since leaving the Gojo compound. It hadn’t changed much since she was here. The halls still held the memories of her time here like a warden held its prisoners. 

But it was also different. It felt warmer in a way? The few students she walked by looked more alive and happy than she ever felt here outside of a few choice moments. Though, Kugutsu contemplated, maybe she should not be the metric to which the world measures its happiness.

Maybe it was Gojo’s doing or just the fact that time supposedly heals all wounds. Maybe it was distance, or some strange stockholm version of nostalgia.

Kugutsu stepped into Gojo’s office, eyes sweeping over the stacks of books, scrolls, and ancient artifacts haphazardly placed on shelves. Some documents were properly stored, others scattered across tables as if he’d rifled through them in a manic episode. He had an entire room– no, a hoard of research material that he didn’t bother categorizing. One of her eyes twitched at the sight of it. The urge to fix it was strong but while she was called many things, Satoru Gojo’s maid was not going on the list. 

Gojo, sitting cross-legged on a desk, grinned at her over the rim of his sunglasses. “Welcome to my kingdom of things that might be useful . ”

Kugutsu frowned. “This is a mess.” 

“This,” Gojo corrected, gesturing vaguely, “is progress in its rawest form.”

Kugutsu stepped deeper into the room, running her fingers along an old wooden box with talismans plastered across it. “So what exactly did you find?”

Gojo shrugged. “A little of this, a little of that. Some Heian-era documents, old sorcery records, anything that might hint at pre-Reformation binding vows.” He lifted a thick, deteriorating scroll, shaking it slightly. “This one talks about something called ‘The Body’s Burden.’ Sounds creepy, right?”

Kugutsu ignored his theatrics, already scanning the texts before her.

She quickly settled into the most comfortable position she could in Gojo’s supposed “kingdom” and got to work, her fingers sifting through brittle pages and yellowed parchment. Gojo, meanwhile, sprawled out in his desk chair, tapping away at his phone, playing some game that made annoying notification sounds every few minutes.

They worked in relative silence. It was comfortable, familiar. Kugutsu scanning for anything remotely relevant, Gojo barely pretending to help.

“Hey Gojo?” She spoke after a while. 

“Hm?” He didn’t look up from his game. “Find something?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask– or I guess I just did. What's with the sunglasses indoors?”

Gojo smirked. “Oh, you know. It’s for the mystique. Keeps the ladies guessing.”

Kugutsu rolled her eyes. “I mean seriously. You already wear a blindfold half the time. You’re walking around like some punk who wears sunglasses at night.”

Gojo put a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Wow, Play-Doh, first you insult my filing system, now my impeccable sense of fashion?”

“It’s not fashion, it’s weird.” She flicked through another scroll. “Like, if I saw some random guy in a convenience store at 2 AM wearing sunglasses, I’d assume he was about to rob the place. Or he was blind.”

Gojo chuckled. “I would make a great criminal.”

Kugutsu rolled her eyes. “You’d be the worst criminal. Too much showboating, no subtlety.”

“That’s where you’d come in. You’re all quiet and mysterious.”

Kugutsu hummed, shaking her head as she continued reading.

But something felt off now.

Kugutsu barely noticed it at first, when she first unfurled this small, unassuming scroll. A faint ringing in her ears, imperceptible at the edge of her senses. She blinked, shaking it off. Probably just exhaustion. She had been reading dusty, musty scrolls for hours. It was only natural.

Gojo was still talking, something about how he’d make a fantastic getaway driver, but his voice felt distant. Fuzzy in her ears.

Then she got dizzy. The words on the paper swimming around in her vision, but strangely her body felt rigid. Like nothing on this earth could ever move her even though she felt like she should be collapsing right about now. Like her mind had drifted but her body was there. Her mind drifted. 

“To serve is fate, to serve is breath. To stray is sin, to stray is death.”

Her lips parted and the words just started rolling out. Soft. A whisper. Like the words were barely there, her mouth barely moving.

“Still thy hands, bow thy head. A vessel hollow, a soul long fled.”

Gojo’s phone made a little chime. He didn’t react immediately, too busy failing whatever level he was on. “Huh?”

“Obey, be silent, heed the call”

Her fingers twitched. Her posture adjusted. Not in a way that anyone would notice at first. Her spine straightened. Gojo’s head snapped up.

Something was wrong.

“Play-Doh?”

She didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. Statuesque. 

“Thy flesh is given, not thine at all.”

Gojo stood, staring at Kugutsu, his gaze sharp. Her eyes were open, but she wasn’t there.

“Be empty, be nothing, be bound and true.”

“Kugut-”

“Be clay, be chattel- be made anew. To serve is fate, to serve is breath. To stray is sin, to stray is death. Still thy hands, bow thy head. A vessel hollow, a soul long fled-”

The exact same tone. The exact same cadence. The same words. Again.

Gojo was done trying to understand. He moved, ripping the scroll from her hands. Nothing.

“Obey, be silent, heed the call. Thy flesh is given, not thine at all-”

Again. 

“Be empty, be nothing, be bound and true. Be clay, be chattel-be made anew-”

Like some kind of glitch. Like a record player stuck in a loop. It kept resetting to the top, like it couldn’t quite get past a certain point. Something was missing.

“To serve is fate, to serve is breath. To stray is sin-”

He scowled, bringing his palm to rest against the marks on her palms, watching them pulse rapidly in time with her words. With no other options, frustration adorning his voice, he spoke with the full power of the binding vow they had between them.

“Kugutsu Sone, be done with this.”

The effect was instant. Her body jerked, her breath hitched, her fingers curling like a puppet with its strings cut. And then she was perfectly still. Her chest did not rise, her eyes did not blink, she was just a shell.

Gojo caught her as her body tumbled forward.

“Play-Doh.” His voice was steady, commanding.

Kugutsu inhaled sharply, a sound like someone breaching the surface of water after drowning. Her entire body trembled. She blinked again, slower this time. Her pupils contracted, like a camera lens adjusting.

A second passed. Then another.

“Gojo, why are you… touching me?”

Gojo exhaled sharply, his shoulders dropping just the slightest bit. “You had a little moment there, Play-Doh.” His voice was light, too light. “Thought you were about to ascend to a higher plane of existence without telling me first.”

Kugutsu’s gaze drifted, scanning the room, looking at the scrolls, the overturned documents.

“Anything too bad?” 

Gojo didn’t look away. He kept his hands on her just in case.

“You don’t remember any of it?”

Kugutsu’s hands twitched. Her palms still throbbed, but she didn’t understand why. She glanced down at them, running a thumb over the intricate markings there. She wiggled her way out of Gojo’s grasp, holding a head to her forehead.

“No, we were just talking about your stupid get away driver ideas.”

Gojo studied her, his Six Eyes flicking around her and the room quickly. He let out a long breath, rolling his shoulders back like he was shaking off a bad feeling.

“You started repeating some kind of mantra over and over. Like a broken record. Kinda spooky there Play-Doh.” 

She swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “…What did I say?”

Gojo hesitated. Not because he didn’t remember- he remembered every word. But there was something deeply wrong about repeating them now. Something instinctual told him that would probably be a bad idea.

“Something about obedience.”

Kugutsu inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself. “I need-” She swallowed. “I need to know what’s in that scroll.”

“Yeah, sure, Play-Doh, right after we make sure it’s not gonna rewire your brain.” He kicked it away a little with his foot.

Gojo was quiet now, his usual playful demeanor replaced with something like wariness, his gaze flickering from her to the scroll on the floor. There was an unspoken understanding between them; something had happened, something unnatural. And Gojo, despite his endless confidence, could feel the edge of the unknown scraping at his senses.

“You sure you’re okay?” 

Kugutsu nodded, but the action felt hollow. “I think so. I don’t remember any of it.” 

She looked rattled. And Gojo hated that.

His mind raced, trying to understand what he had heard and seen. How the mask connected to this weird poem she had recited and the scroll and her non-sorcerer parents. How her cursed technique was strange and malleable and perfect for imitating and giving and adding to. 

What would have happened had he not used the binding vow?

Kugutsu pressed her fingers against her temple, breathing in slow, measured counts. Her chest felt tight, but she wasn’t sure why. Her hands still throbbed, an ache buried under the skin, but she ignored it.

“I can’t believe I don’t remember.”

Kugutsu had sat back down, rubbing her palms absently against her thighs as she tried to center herself. But her fingers were tapping against her leg. A slow, steady rhythm. Four beats. A pause. Four beats. A pause.

The exact rhythm of the chant.

Gojo stilled. 

She wasn’t doing it consciously. She was just sitting there, her expression drawn tight with focus, taking slow breaths. But her fingers never stopped. Tap, tap, tap, tap- pause. Tap, tap, tap, tap- pause.

And worse- her lips moved.

There was no sound. No whisper. But she was mouthing the words.

To serve is fate, to serve is breath. To stray is sin, to stray is death . She didn’t even realize.

Gojo felt something cold scrape down his spine. “Kugutsu.”

She blinked, like coming out of a trance. “Huh?”

The tapping stopped.

For a moment, Gojo considered saying something. Calling it out, making a joke– something to break whatever the hell that just was. But then Kugutsu stretched her hands out, rolling her wrists, shaking off the stiffness. Completely unaware. She really didn’t remember. 

Gojo forced his usual smirk back onto his face “Yeah, well who knows maybe it's better than you dont.”

Chapter Text

Kugutsu sat on the edge of the couch, gripping her knees,  knuckles turning whiter by the second. Her breathing was heavy, coming in short quick bursts she couldn’t resist. The glass of water Gojo had set in front of her sat, condensation pooling around its base, forgotten.

Her mouth moved without restraint, mumbling words she could not have known and did not understand. Her eyes darted every which way, scouring the room’s darkest corners for secrets and hidden dangers.

Her voice, then her own, no longer the mumbling of something else, came out quick and forced. Like she was trying to pry it out from her own lungs.

“I-I don’t- something. I- things have gotten- gotten worse.”

All Gojo could do was watch as the woman before him unraveled by the second. Her cursed energy was… fine. A little sporadic, a little unstable but there wasn’t anything he could do about that. Normal for someone going through some kind of panic attack. If Gojo hadn’t known her for as long as he did, he would have just assumed she was insane and been done with it. Maybe dropped her off at the nearest insane asylum. If he was feeling nice. But this was Play-Doh, one of the most straight laced people he knew. There was no monster to kill (yet) and no one to blame (yet). 

Instead he watched her, watched as her lips moved and her fingers taped all without her say so. Observed how the bags under her eyes had grown darker each passing day. She was just… slipping away.

He sat down on the other side of the couch, giving her her distance. Gojo was not a sensitive man, but he was trying. 

“Play-Doh. What happened?” 

Kugutsu swallowed, fingers still tapping. Tap, tap, tap, tap-pause. Tap, tap, tap, tap-pause. Her throat bobbed, her breath shallow.

“Well-”

Kugutsu Sone was, surprising even herself, having a pretty decent day. The investigation into this whole ritual curse thing wasn’t as fast as she would have liked, but quite frankly a slow investigation was better than a dangerous one. 

Well… that's not to say that her investigation wasn’t dangerous. Just not in the way that something was actively trying to kill her right now in this very moment. 

It’s the little things.

One such dangerous thing was Kugutsu’s decision to include Suguru Geto, infamous curse user, in her investigation. It was calculated. Strategic. Maybe… just a little nostalgic. But he was powerful, resourceful, had a web of information she simply couldn’t get access to. Kugutsu knew he was invested in things like this. If she could spin the tale just right and make it seem like she knew more than she actually did, he might take it upon himself to do some investigating. 

Which is how, despite her moral judgement and because of her strategic brain (at least that's what she told herself.), she found herself waiting in the garden of his newest temple courtyard.

“You know, Kugutsu, if we keep meeting like this, people might come to believe you like my company.”

She turned away from the flowers she was inspecting to face him. He was leaning against one of the marble pillars watching her with a kind of amused smile that was distinctly Suguru Geto. It was time to peak his interest.

“I might have before you killed my parents Geto.” Kugutsu spoke dryly, forcing her eyes to narrow.

Geto’s head tilted like a cat, “I wasn’t aware they had been killed frankly. Though the way you spoke of them… I can’t say I miss them.”

She paused, trying to seem like she was actually thinking it through. “So… you didn’t kill my parents in your genocidal quest and didn’t leave a creepy mask in my childhood bedroom?”

“I did not, no.” Geto stepped forward. “But why the sudden care for parents you did not love?”

Kugutsu exhaled through her nose, feigning irritation, rolling her shoulders as if to shake off the tension.

“Apparently some non-sorcerer old ritual was related to me and my parents.”

Geto’s gaze flickered with interest, but his face remained passive. 

“Non-sorcerer ritual?”

This was the moment. The window she needed to guide him exactly where she wanted.

“I know– well, I don’t actually know.” Kugutsu kept her tone even, carefully laced with uncertainty. “Something about transforming”

She made a show of shifting her weight, crossing her arms, hesitating like she was deciding whether or not to trust him with this.

“I don’t have all the details,” she admitted, giving him just enough truth to make it believable. “I was just hoping you knew something about it. Seems like your handiwork.”

And there it was. That tiny flicker in Geto’s expression. The sharpening of his gaze. The briefest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He was interested. Kugutsu had known him long enough to recognize it. The way his posture shifted ever so slightly, the way his mind clicked into place, already connecting threads she had laid out for him.

“A ritual to convert monkeys...” 

It wasn’t a question. It was a challenge. A hypothesis.

Kugutsu shrugged, looking at her palms and tracing their designs. Hoping Geto could connect the dots like she thought. Connect the patterns in the hints she was dropping. Following her trail of breadcrumbs. Enough to connect but not be obvious.

“I can tell you don’t know what I’m talking about, so I guess it’s fine.” she took a deep breath, as if this topic was eating away at her. “Thanks for the chat, Suguru.”

She turned slightly, as if to leave. Give him space. Let him come to the decision himself. The familiarity to her, the inclusion of non-sorcerers, information buried and hidden… she hoped it was all enough to get him digging. It wasn’t necessarily a lie. She was involved and non-sorcerers were involved just… maybe not in the way she implied. She didn’t feel bad about lying, as far as she is aware it might even be the truth.

“Kugutsu.”

She stopped but didn’t turn fully.

“You seem… anxious” He mused “Are you well?”

A slow breath. A careful smirk. “You always did like making observations.”

She left without another word.

Kugutsu wasn’t sure what made him think she was unwell enough to comment on it, but she hoped it added to the intrigue. To the mystery of this ritual and her parents and everything else she hoped he looked into. She needed all the help she could get.

Kugutsu Sone was doing… fine. Her nights were restless but her days were busy, and having busy days meant not having enough time to stew on whatever strange occurrences were going on during her nights. On a positive note, Geto had certainly taken the bait and was investigating her strange problem without her even needing to ask. She would keep tabs on him routinely just to see how it was going. Nothing had come of it so far, but at least things were moving.

Gojo was off on a mission overseas and had asked her to keep an eye on the two children he had pseudo adopted. It was strange to see Gojo in such a… paternal light. He was still so childish and in many ways irresponsible and in every way immature– but he cared about these children. Deeply so.

Kugutsu couldn’t exactly say no (both literally and figuratively) to his request to make sure children didn’t die on his watch. She had never met these children, but she had heard about them from Gojo so that must be close enough. Faintly, in the back of her head, she realized this was the first time she was going to interact with a child for more than a few seconds in a very very long time.

She knocked on the door, balancing the groceries she brought on her hip. Gojo just asked her to check in but something told her that two children left unsupervised would probably just eat junk food rather than actually decent meals. Especially if they were raised by Gojo.

The door opened and a young boy scowled at her from the doorway. He looked like a typical Zen’in kid barring the casual clothes he wore.

Kugutsu raised a hand awkwardly.

“Gojo sent me?”

His scowl deepened, but he stepped aside, letting her in without further protest. Kugutsu wasn’t sure if that meant he trusted her or if he just thought it wasn’t worth the effort to argue. They lived in a small apartment. Good enough to live in but nothing worth noting. Two bedrooms, a kitchen, living room and a bathroom.  Inside was surprisingly clean for a house inhabited by children.

A girl’s voice, probably from the kitchen, called out as she approached.

“Megumi, who was at the- oh?”

The two children stood side by side staring up at the woman intruding on their space. The girl,  Tsumiki, looked at her with a pensive expression before sudden realization overtook her features.

“Miss, are you the Play-Doh person?”

Kugutsu couldn’t help but close her eyes trying to swallow her frustration. Of course that's how they knew her. Of course. But these children weren’t at fault.

“Yes. That's me.” She set the groceries on the kitchen table and started unpacking. “As far as Gojo is concerned, that is my legacy.”

Tsumiki came to help her. “It’s cute if you ask me.”

Megumi came to help too. “Pretty dumb name…”

“Well, my real name is Kugutsu Sone, Gojo just… well he likes to have fun.”

As Kugutsu placed the last of the groceries in their proper places, she motioned for the kids to leave the kitchen.

“Go do whatever it is you do when Gojo isn’t around,” she said.

Tsumiki hesitated. “You don’t want help?”

“I have it covered.” She paused, considering. “You won't have time to do kid stuff all the time. Go do it now.”

The girl tilted her head, considering, then nodded and grabbed Megumi’s wrist, dragging him off before he could argue. Kugutsu heard the TV click on a moment later. 

Kugutsu actually liked cooking. It was methodical and organized. Cooking had rules that when you followed produced tasty and nutritional dishes. She would much prefer to stay home and cook instead of going out to eat. Chop, heat, stir. Everything in its right place. 

She was preparing a few different kinds of meals. Staples the kids could mix and match during the week based on their preferences and moods. Rice, noodles, meats and vegetables. All the basics that could be brought together for many different things. She worked in silence, letting the rhythmic motions settle her thoughts.

But she felt different. She felt like she was being watched. 

Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.

A creeping sense of paranoia settled onto her bones but she did her best to ignore it. There was nothing here, the only notable cursed energy signature around was Megumi’s. But still… it felt like the entire world was looking at her expectantly. Waiting for her.

Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.

To bend and break.

She turned back to her work. Her breath came out in steady beats.

When the meal was finished, she plated three dishes and packed the rest into neat Tupperware containers. 

“Food's ready,” she called. 

The kids came running.

Megumi took one look at the plate and scowled. “You really didn’t have to do all this.”

“Maybe,” Kugutsu admitted, “but then what would even be the point of showing up?” 

Megumi grumbled, but didn’t argue further. Tsumiki thanked her warmly, already setting out utensils.

Kugutsu grabbed a pen and scrap of paper.

“Cooking is done, you should have food for the week,” she said, scrawling her phone number on the piece of paper. “If Gojo doesn’t show up or you need anything, call.”

She placed it on the counter and turned to leave. She had done her job, what use was her staying?

“You’re just going to leave?” Megumi’s eyebrows furrowed.

“...Yes? Do you need anything else?” She blinked at him.

“It’s dark out.” Megumi continued, obviously hinting at something Kugutsu just wasn’t equipped to understand.

“I’m well aware.”

Tsumiki, interrupted. “You made dinner, Miss Sone. You should at least come join us. It would be rude for us to eat the dinner you made while you left to find food elsewhere.”

That… made sense. In a way. Kugutsu was thinking of herself more like a maid to these two children. Come and resolve whatever problem they have and then move on. Obviously these children were thinking of her as some kind of guest. And guests should be kind and eat dinner before departing. 

She turned back around and nodded.

“Okay, let's eat then.”

Kugutsu sat stiffly at the table, watching as Tsumiki chatted animatedly and Megumi begrudgingly ate his food, occasionally offering a comment or question. The two children, despite their different personalities, were very grateful and appreciative of her work making dinner, complementing it various times in their own ways. The setting was warm, oddly domestic in a way she wasn’t used to.

Kugutsu wasn’t sure she liked this setting.

But still, she ate. Listened. Occasionally offered a short reply when prompted. Letting the children enjoy their meal and the odd but unassuming company of their adoptive parent’s friend.

And then her phone buzzed.

She didn’t have to check the screen to know who it was. She swallowed her bite of rice, wiped her hands, and excused herself from the table, stepping into the kitchen before answering.

“Gojo.”

“Play-Doh,” he greeted, his voice light, familiar. “How’s babysitting?”

Kugutsu glanced back toward the table. “Fine.”

“You fed them, right?”

“No, I locked them in a closet and let them fend for themselves.” She responded dryly.

Gojo snorted. “Smart. That’s how they get their survival instincts.”

Kugutsu rolled her eyes.  

“So what do you need Gojo?”

“I actually wanted to check in on you. See if any other strange things have happened.”

Kugutsu blinked.

“Nothing… too weird. Just a bit anxious. Geto actually asked if I was feeling alright when I met him which was not expected. Guess I’m just a really good actor.”

Gojo paused on the other end for a little too long.

“Alright, well keep me updated.” The call ended before she could respond.

Kugutsu blinked again and she was back at the table. Her food was eaten and the two children were staring at her with confused expressions. Her hand’s were peacefully placed on her lap, almost like a statue.

Tsumiki asked her a question. She barely heard it.

Her mouth tasted like ash and rot.

Kugutsu blinked a few times, the ringing silence in her head slowly fading as she became aware of the two children still watching her with curious, slightly worried expressions.

Tsumiki’s voice came again, gentle but concerned, “Miss Sone, are you okay?”

Kugutsu took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus. The phone call, the strange lapse in time, the overwhelming sensation of being watched... It was all too much. She could feel words forming in her mouth, but they didn’t quite make it to her tongue. Something was off.

“I'm fine,” she said, trying to make her voice sound steady, but it felt hollow even to her. Her eyes flickered around the room, momentarily searching for something that could explain the unease creeping through her bones.

Megumi, still skeptical, narrowed his eyes. “You sure?”

“Yes, sorry just thinking of all the work I have to do when I get back.”

The two children nodded, seemingly taking her excuse at face value. She spent the rest of her night with them losing time, bit by bit until she inevitably ended up in her apartment. She vaguely recalled saying bye to the children and making sure they were safe and alright. And then nothing.

Kugutsu was… unwell. She was losing time. Paranoia was creeping into her bones and settling on her skin like a fine silk robe. She was getting through the days, trying to seem normal and about her business but it was getting hard. She had missed hours at a time. Her nights were sleepless. 

But Kugutsu still had things to do, she was responsible for things. She had to keep tabs on Geto and help Shoko at the infirmary and keep an eye on those kids. 

Today though she still didn’t feel great but she didn’t actually have a lot on her plate. She had one thing on her agenda. Bring Nanami a present to celebrate his new job and his new place. She could manage that. A bit of a vacation from all the oddities of the world of jujutsu- if only for a few hours.

She knocked on his door, holding Nanami’s gift carefully in her other hand.

It didn’t take long before the door swung open.

“Kugutsu. Come in, dinner is just about ready.” He was dressed as casually as ever which is to say not very. Wearing slacks and a white button up shirt, he motioned for her to make her way inside.

His home was small but nice, minimal decor but not empty. Like the kind of thing you would see out of a magazine.

“Here, I got you something. For your new job.” Kugutsu motioned to the box at her side.

“You really didn’t have to.”

She shrugged, “I know, but it's the right thing to do. Plus it's nothing major. Just stuff.”

Kento Nanami opened the rather large box Kugutsu had given her. Softly and meticulously he unraveled its contents. It truly was nothing special, just some dress shirts and pants, some suits and ties. Things to help him in his career. Nothing special, purely practical. 

“I made sure it was something you’d actually use.”

Nanami’s fingers hovered over the fabric, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“This is…” He exhaled. “Thoughtful”

She smiled. “I try.” Kugutsu reached into her pocket and pulled out a small box.

Nanami frowned, “You’ve already given me enough.”

“It’s one whole gift, these two just didn’t fit in the big box” She opened the box and pulled out two pairs of glasses. One, typical square black frames and the other small sleek sunglasses. 

“They say you look smarter when you wear glasses. It’ll help you look official.”

“Are you saying I need help?”

“Might make you look less intimidating.”

Nanami sighed, exasperated but in a way that held no actual strain. “You’ve spent far too long around Gojo.”

“I would agree, Nanami.”

Dinner was… nice. Comfortable.

For a while, they talked about normal things- his new job, the absurdity of salaryman life, how strange it was to live in a world where people ignored the very real horrors around them.

For the first time in days, Kugutsu felt something like normalcy.

But then her vision started phasing in and out. Like a camera lens expanding and retracting at rapid speeds. Her hand hovered inches above her plate, her chopsticks slipping from her fingers, clattering against the dish. Something wasn’t right. She blinked, and suddenly the room tilted.

Nanami’s voice reached her through water. “Kugutsu?”

Her fingers twitched. The rhythm. That damn rhythm. Where the hell did she know that rhythm? Why couldn't she do anything? She wasn’t breathing right. Her vision blurred. The walls shifted. No, not the walls. The space. The air around her bent like heat rising off pavement. Her body moved. But she hadn’t moved it. Her posture straightened, back rigid, hands neatly folded on her lap like she was in prayer.

“ To serve is fate, to serve is breath. To stray is sin, to stray is death.”

Nanami stood. His chair scraped back against the floor. “Kugutsu?”

Her mouth moved. The words spilled from her.

“Still thy hands, bow thy head. A vessel hollow, a soul long fled.”

Nanami reached for her shoulder. “Kugutsu, snap out of it.”

“Obey, be silent, heed the call. Thy flesh is given, not thine at all.”

His grip on her tightened. “What’s happening to you?”

“Be empty, be nothing, be bound and true. Be clay, be chattel-be made anew”

Nanami’s cursed energy flared. He didn’t know what was happening, but he didn’t like it. “Kugutsu.” And in a rush he slapped her. Hard. 

She jerked. Like a puppet with cut strings. Her breath hitched. Her fingers twitched. Stillness. Her pupils dilated. She collapsed, her head slamming into the table before her. A sharp inhale. She was back. Head raised from the table, whipping the food off her face.

Nanami stared at her, eyes narrowed, body tense.

She blinked at him. “What?”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “You just had some kind of… episode.”

Kugutsu’s stomach dropped. Oh. Again. Shit. It was getting worse. The scroll was nowhere to be seen. It was worse than she thought. Her hands trembled slightly, so she clenched them into fists to stop it.

Nanami sat back down, watching her carefully. “Kugutsu, I don’t think you should be alone.”

She looked at him, something sharp in her gaze. “No.”

Nanami’s frown deepened. “No?”

She shook her head. “You can’t come back.”

His brows furrowed. “That’s not your decision to make.”

“Yes, it is.”

Nanami’s eyes darkened. “Kugutsu-”

“I will not be the reason you come back. If you come back later, sure, make your choice. But you just got out and have a new job. 

His lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t like it. But he also knew better than to push her when she was like this.

A long silence stretched between them.

“If it becomes too much you call me.” Nanami spoke, it wasn’t a question or a request. Just a statement.

“I will.” His lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t like it. But he knew her and knew she kept promises whenever she could. Whenever she could.

Kugutsu did not remember coming home.

She did not remember going to sleep.

She did not remember braiding her hair.

She did not remember lighting the candles.

She did not remember rearranging the furniture, kneeling by the front door, hands folded neatly in her lap.

She did not remember speaking until her throat was raw.

She did not remember dipping her fingers into ink, dragging it up her arms, across her face- marking herself with wax that still burned. That finished the strange patterns up her arms, across her chest.

She did not remember what she had been saying.

But her lips still tingled with the echo of words she could not recall.

She did not remember moving.

But the wax had hardened in thin, deliberate lines, tracing patterns she did not recognize.

She did not remember kneeling.

But her knees ached like she had been there for hours.

She did not remember praying.

But the air around her felt listened to.

“So- so yeah. I just… woke up like that.” The silence between them stretched, thick and heavy. Kugutsu stared at the floor, her hands clasped together like she was still kneeling, like she was still somewhere else.

Gojo hadn’t spoken in a while. That, more than anything, made her stomach twist. He always had something to say, always had a joke or a quip or some effortless way to brush off the weight of the world. But now, he was just watching her. Studying her like she was something unfamiliar, something he needed to dissect with his Six Eyes because his normal ones weren’t enough.

“Should have told me sooner Play-Doh… this is bad.”

“Please just tell me you found something.”

Gojo didn’t respond right away. Then, finally, his voice dropped, quieter than before.

“You’re still tapping.”

Kugutsu froze.

She looked down at her hands, at the way her fingers twitched against her leg, following that same rhythm. It hadn’t stopped. She hadn’t even noticed.

Her breath hitched, and something ugly curled in her stomach.

Gojo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He tilted his head, expression unreadable. “You’re not all the way back, are you?”

She swallowed. Forced herself to still her fingers. Forced herself to meet his gaze.

“I don’t know,” she admitted

“I found something and it’s– it's not good, Kugutsu.” Gojo’s voice lacked its usual lightness. There was no teasing lilt, no easy-going bravado to soften the edges of what he was about to say.

Kugutsu sat rigid, her muscles locked in place, like if she moved too much she’d shatter apart.

Gojo exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. “It took a while to piece together, but I figured it out.” His voice was steady, too steady, like he was holding something back.

Kugutsu stayed quiet, waiting.

“Your markings, the mask, the scroll- it’s not just some forgotten ritual.” He let out a humorless laugh. “It’s like we thought it's some kind of contract, but one you don’t need to agree to.”

Her stomach churned.

Gojo wasn’t looking at her anymore. His gaze had drifted upward, toward the ceiling, like he was searching for the right words- or maybe trying to buy himself time.

“You weren’t just trained to be obedient. You were meant to be…” He paused. “Fuck, I don’t even know what word to use. A vessel? A conduit? A tool?” His jaw clenched. “Whatever it was, it was never meant to be yours.”

Kugutsu swallowed hard. “You mean my technique.”

“I mean you. That's the thing you don't… have a technique not really. Your cursed energy has just been conditioned to be extremely malleable. So you could be a tool for anyone.”

“So what?” Kugutsu forced out. “I was supposed to be someone’s property?”

Gojo scoffed, but there was no amusement behind it. “Jujutsu society has done worse things.”

Kugutsu shut her eyes, pressing her fingers into her temples. Her hands were shaking again.

“I don’t think they wanted you to be a person.”

The words made her stomach twist.

Silence.

Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful. Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful.Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful. Be useful. Be obedient. Be subservient. Be respectful. Be useful. 

“I don’t know what to do. I’ve spent the past week digging through every record I could find. Even forced myself to read through old Zen’in archives.” He continued, his lips curled in distaste, but it lacked his usual dramatics. “I found pieces, connections, but no solution. No off switch.”

His fingers twitched, curling slightly.

“I can try to just keep repeating the binding vow but thats…” 

Kugutsu swallowed, her throat dry. “You don’t have to fix it, Gojo.”

His eyes snapped to her then, something sharp and raw burning behind them. 

“You’re kidding, right?” His voice was still light, still easy, but it was an effort now. A mask stretched too thin. “You wake up covered in wax and ink, kneeling like you’re waiting for a goddamn command, and you think I’m just gonna let it happen? You are my responsibility, Play-Doh. You have been from the moment I let you take that stupid vow.”

Kugutsu wanted to laugh. Gojo didn’t realize how ironic that statement was. How it cut through her, sharp and jagged.

The patterns on her skin burned. Her fingers twitched again. She clenched them, hard, nails digging into her palms.

“So is that it?” Her voice was quiet. “After all this time that's all I am… some responsibility on your plate? Another thing for you to check off a list, Gojo?”

Gojo let out a breath, rubbing his temples. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Certainly sounds like it.”

“Play-Doh I-”

“No, you know what?” Kugutsu let out a sharp breath, standing up. “Break it.”

Gojo blinked. “What?”

She exhaled sharply, voice steadier than it should be. “Call off the vow. Let the higher-ups do whatever they want and then you can be done with me.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Why?” She scoffed, crossing her arms. “Because you want to own me?”

Gojo exhaled, looking up at her. “That’s not fair.”

“Your servant is obviously just more trouble than they're worth, right?”

Gojo’s fingers twitched against his knee. “That’s not-”

“Not what? Fair?” She let out a bitter laugh. “That’s all you’ve been saying, Gojo. That’s not fair.”

“Because it’s not,” he snapped, voice tight. “Damn it, Kugutsu, you think I want this? You think I like that you had to take that vow?”

Kugutsu inhaled sharply, steadying herself. “Doesn’t change the fact that you did it.”

Gojo’s jaw clenched. “You would’ve died.”

“And maybe that would’ve been my decision to make.”

The silence that followed was immediate, suffocating.

Gojo’s breath hitched, just slightly. "You don't mean that."

Kugutsu exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. "I don’t know, Gojo. Maybe I don’t. Maybe I do. Maybe I’m just mad. Maybe you’re just happy to have someone who can’t leave you like Suguru did."

“You don’t mean that.” Gojo repeated, his tone rigid.

Kugutsu paused, taking a deep breath. “You’re right. I don't.”

Silence spread between them, sharp with tension and words meant to harm each other. 

“I… apologize.” Kugutsu muttered, sitting back down pulling her knees to her chest.

“Yeah… me too I guess.”

“You know… Gojo, we only interact when it's useful.”

“What do you mean, Play-Doh?”

“When was the last time we hung out like we did in Okinawa? Just… doing stuff not fighting or investigating or training or planning.”

Gojo paused, contemplating. “I don’t know…”

“So… you can see where I’m coming from.”

He sighed. “Yeah… I just thought you weren’t into the whole hanging out thing.”

“I’m not. But you are one of the few exceptions, Satoru.”

“... I didn’t know that.”

Kugutsu shrugged. “That's fine.”

“If it's any consolation, I haven't been able to do a lot of hanging out with anyone.” A little bit of mirth returned to his face. “Between teaching, Gojo Clan stuff and missions this is the first time I’ve been in town for a week straight.”

“Not like I’ve been much better…”

Gojo sat up then, pushing himself to his feet and walking over to her. He kneeled so they were at eye level, resting his forearms on his knees.

Kugutsu frowned slightly. “What are you doing?”

Gojo ignored that. “You know I don’t feel like you’re just another mission I have to complete right?”

“It’s just hard. Might be some… latent programming but I can’t help but feel that way.”

Gojo nodded, slow and understanding. “I guess that makes sense.” His voice was steady now, quieter than before. “Just know that I don’t stick around just because of some contract.”

“...Okay.”

Gojo’s lips twitched slightly, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he studied her carefully before asking, almost tentatively “Do you?”

“No…I don’t think so.”

“Okay… Okay.”

Gojo stood up, putting out a hand for Kugutsu to grab.  “Stay here tonight. We’ll figure something out in the morning.”

“Okay… I think.” She grabbed his hand, not missing the way her cursed energy, her technique that wasn’t really a technique, latched onto his.

Chapter Text

Kugutsu was missing time. It was like she was skipping forward in a movie, watching only a couple of seconds at a time. She knew generally where she had been, but never the full picture. She would come back to consciousness in the middle of things, unsure what she was doing or why.

Kugutsu would never admit it, but she was getting pretty good at picking up the pieces. Not that she liked this cycle, but humans are known for their ability to adapt, and adapt she did. Most of the time, she could survey her surroundings and gather information- context clues- as to what she had been doing or saying. It wasn’t perfect but she hoped to be discreet.

She was walking through Jujutsu High with Utahime. She was saying something about being hired by the Kyoto branch. How excited she was to help the next generation. She seemed really happy to be-

Then she was with Gojo, talking about a new sorcerer that he heard about through clan business. Someone who could really use her expertise when they eventually joined Jujutsu High. A kid from the Inumaki clan who had inherited the cursed speech technique. Gojo said that-

She was looking down at an open box. Two silver brass knuckles sat at the bottom, unassuming. Kugutsu could feel the cursed energy residing off them. She looked up to see Gojo’s smug smile.

“I pulled some strings for you. These should help you connect to cursed energy better. Basically when you hit with them any cursed energy they touch other than yours is stored in there briefly. Effectively enhancing the range you can do your stuff at if only briefly. I-”

“Why?” Kugutsu muttered.

“Well, I think you-”

Then she was walking by herself through a garden. Her palms softly brushed against the flowers that surrounded her. There was a large collection of them, all in different colors, shapes and sizes Kugutsu couldn’t really recognize. A man came up to her, a baseball cap pulled low on his face. He said-

Then she felt like she was drowning. Her lungs filled with water. They burned, they burned, they burned. An arm, larger than humanly possible, held her as her body shook with panic. Would she die here? Kugutsu grabbed-

Then she was watching over Megumi and Tsumiki. They were watching tv on the couch while she helped them clean up a little. Their homework sat completed on the dining room table. A pot was boiling on the stove, smelling like-

Then she was fighting. Some kind of curse. Probably a mission Gojo put her on. She dodged and weaved between its strikes. Her hands felt heavier. She looked down at them briefly. The brass knuckles. Good thing she gets to try them out. A strike from the creature came barreling towards her forehead and she-

Then Kugutsu stood in her apartment. Her hands dangerously tight around Geto’s throat.  His skin was clammy under her palms. Her cursed energy had synced with his, slow and measured. Like muscle memory. Like something that had been written into her long ago, in the days when they trained together, when they fought together, when they had once, if only briefly, been on the same side.

His pulse was steady under her grip.

He wasn’t even reacting, staring at her with narrowed eyes. They weren’t cold, amused or even wary. Just observant. 

She ripped her hands away like she’d been burned. Stumbled back, breath stuttering, fingers twitching against her palms.

Geto exhaled through his nose, his hand idly rubbing his throat, like she had merely startled him, not like she had almost killed him. Been dangerously close it it. He didn’t speak right away, just tilted his head slightly, testing the movement of his neck. Then, finally, he broke the silence with a slow, thoughtful hum.

“Well,” he mused. “Didn’t expect that.”

Kugutsu stared, a rush of questions surging in her mind. All of which remained unanswered. All of which screamed at her to listen. 

“What- what are you doing here?”

Geto frowned observing her from head to toe, then his gaze lingered in something by her feet. 

The mask. 

But Gojo had that. He kept it locked away. She hadn’t even been able to touch the thing without wanting to throw up- so why was it here? How-

A slow, cold dread crept over her, settling in her bones. She took a step away from the mask and the intruder in her home, eyes narrowed.

“The hell are you doing here?” She repeated.

Geto’s eyes narrowed before realization dawned on him.

“You don't recall… “ He paused. “I see. So you’re this so-called King’s Gift. And like that... it all fits into place.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don't recall... I arrived, asked about the wild goose chase you sent me on… and then- well you can gather the rest.”

“Wild… goose chase?”

“Don’t act coy, Kugutsu. Showing up on my doorstep, asking about your parents. You knew I would go looking.”

She smiled, small but reminiscing. The fog clearing just a bit. “I did.”

“I did not like what I found. A bunch of monkeys worshiping the king of curses… filthy.”

“Why- why are you telling me this?”

Geto studied her a moment longer, then exhaled, shaking his head slightly.

“Whatever they did to you, it’s already begun,” he said, ignoring her question. “And I don’t like monkeys interfering with the things I enjoy.”

“So… information?” Kugutsu spoke, her mind desperately trying to catch up to her body.

He sighed. “I don’t have all the answers, but some kind of cult that wants to give The King of Curses a gift. They-”

Kugutsu blinked and Geto was by the door. 

Geto pulled out a familiar bloodstained card from his robes, holding it gently between two fingers. “-another tool, Kugutsu.” He paused, and then his voice morphed into something… fond. “You never did like being used.” Geto walked forward-

Then she was standing in front of a cutting board, knife in hand. A cut of meat sitting patiently, seasoned and prepared, for her to cut into.

She looked around her apartment. No sign of the mask, or Geto or forced entry. Just… nothing. She went back to-

Then she woke up kneeling in bed, a candle pressed tightly between her hands. Her body was covered in-

Then her phone is ringing on the table. Gojo’s contact lighting up in the darkness of her room. She picks up the phone.

His voice is sharp. Immediate. “Play-Doh, where is the mask?”

She didn’t respond.

A pause. “Where are you?”

“My apartment I think.”

“You think?” His voice dripped with concern.

Kugutsu took a deep breath and replied “Things have been hard okay? You-”

Then Gojo’s concerned face, an inch from her face. His eyes were scanning her fiercely, mouth moving quickly. She could not hear. Could not speak. Everything was fuzzy, too bright and too dark. She tried to move her body but she couldn’t. Gojo said something else, something that kind of looked like-

Then she was walking, an unfamiliar pressure on her face. Her vision was swimming and her whole body hurt. Her body was on fire but the room was cold. Two hands, each on one of her shoulders, directed her. She stumbled, her legs failing underneath her. She wondered, faintly, who was behind her and why. She saw it then. A pedestal with 20 candles surrounding it. The walls were covered in black markings resembling her own, it might have been her swimming vision but they were endless and forever and nothing but drawings. She-

Then she was kneeling, looking around a crowd of bodies, all dressed in robes. Cursed energy danced around the room. Depictions of red eyes coated the floor beneath her. The candles were lit. She hears speaking, praying faintly in her ears but it was muffled. She couldn’t make out the words. 

To serve is fate, to serve is breath. 

To stray is sin, to stray is death.

Still thy hands, bow thy head. 

A vessel hollow, a soul long fled.

Obey, be silent, heed the call. 

Thy flesh is given, not thine at all.

Be empty, be nothing, be bound and true. 

Be clay, be chattel- be made anew.

Suguru Geto did not know what to expect when he followed his protege’s lead. He wasn’t stupid, he very quickly realized she had sent him investigating on purpose, but that didn’t really matter. Not when it was something so interesting. It wasn’t leading him into a trap and he might get something out of it so he would acquiesce with his underclassman’s vague non-request. 

Kugutsu Sone- kneeling, motionless, in the center of a room filled with corpses that hadn’t realized they were dead yet. A sea of monkeys surrounding her, dressed in ceremonial robes, chanting in frenzied, fevered devotion. The room smelled of burning wax, blood, and the distinct, rotting scent of cursed energy that had lingered too long in one place. The walls were adorned in markings. Black lines that bled into one another, stretching like veins across the stone. But the most damning sight was the one at the center of it all. 

That mask was on her face now, though it wasn’t quite the same. Once pristine white, it had been painted over- adorned with a red, intricate marking that bled across the surface like fresh ink.

A blessing. A claim. A brand marking her as something given. She was kneeling with perfect stillness. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, head bowed, shoulders squared like she had always belonged there. Like she had always been waiting to kneel before someone greater than herself.

And the monkeys were praying. Happy, ecstatic, feverish. They were celebrating their success. Celebrating what they had created. They had made her something worthy. Something empty. Something perfect.

A gift.

A vessel.

A servant awaiting her master.

For Ryomen Sukuna.

Hoping it would get them blessings. 

It was an eerily familiar sight. Geto wasted no time making each and every one of those filthy monkeys a new pollock painting on the walls. He had made the mistake of sparing their lives last time. Those clapping filthy monkeys who had applauded the death of a child. Nothing more than a child...

Not again.

The first body hit the ground before the rest even realized they were dying. Then another. Then another.

Geto moved through them like he was swatting away insects. Like they weren’t worth the air they were choking on. By the time the last one collapsed into silence, the only sound left was the drip, drip, drip of fresh blood hitting the floor and the flickering of candlelight.

Geto approached the kneeling mass that was Kugutsu. She didn’t flinch when he crouched down before her. Didn’t acknowledge him when he reached out. Didn’t even breathe differently when his fingers curled around the edges of the mask and pulled. Nothing. Like it had never been separate. Like pulling flesh.

A slow, building anger curled up in his gut. He felt it then, that bloodstained card he kept with him at all times. A reminder that life needed purpose. It felt heavy, like stones tied to ankles. What had these filthy monkeys made of the well earned defiance of this girl?

This wasn’t Kugutsu Sone. This was a thing. A product of their hands. The woman who had once told him, in that sharp, bitter tone of hers, "I am not a tool, Geto", was now sitting before him, crafted into the perfect, obedient servant.

There was no resistance in her body.

No fight.

No self.

Just waiting.

Waiting for the King of Curses to call for her.

He grabbed her wrist instead. That, at least, still moved. And as he pulled her up, forcing her to stand, forcing her body to move under his command instead of theirs, he exhaled, slow and sharp. 

“Filthy monkeys.”

She didn’t react. Didn’t speak. Simply rose with his guidance. Her skin was cold beneath his palm. Faintly damp. 

Geto stared at her, jaw tight. She had been so careful. So paranoid about becoming someone else’s weapon. And now she stood here before him. Perfect. Hollow. Waiting. A slow breath left his lips.

Geto rolled his shoulders. Exhaled through his nose. Disgusting. His fingers curled tighter around her wrist. His voice, when he finally spoke, was low. Quiet. A razor-sharp murmur in the heavy air.

"If they wanted to give you to a King so badly… then I suppose I’ll just have to steal their tribute."

Then, without another word, he took her with him. And she walked beside him, without saying a word. Perfect, and dutiful. Waiting for a purpose.

Chapter Text

The house was quiet when Geto pushed the door open, Kugutsu following two paces behind him like a shadow. The air smelled faintly of incense, mingling with the earthy scent of rain-soaked ground. Inside, faint murmurs of conversation drifted from the living room, followed by a sudden burst of laughter. Nanako and Mimiko were home.

He paused at the threshold, glancing over his shoulder. She stood motionless, the warm light of the house reflecting off the smooth, pale mask covering half her face. She looked spectral, more an apparition than a person, like something that had wandered inside from the cold. A ghost of herself.

Geto clenched his jaw, suppressing the unwelcome churn in his stomach.

“Wait here,” he said.

Kugutsu obeyed immediately, still as stone. 

Geto stepped inside, shaking off the thoughts clawing at the edges of his mind.

“I’m back,” he called out.

Within moments, two small figures emerged from deeper inside the house, their footsteps light and quick.

Nanako’s voice came first. “Finally! Did you bring food? I’m starving.”

Mimiko chimed in, “We haven’t started cooking yet.” tugging at his sleeve.

A small smirk tugged at his lips as he knelt down, ruffling their hair before pulling them into a brief hug. If Kugutsu had been herself– if she had been here in any real way– she might have teased him for it. Might have pointed out how both he and Gojo had taken young sorcerers under their wing, how no matter how far apart they strayed, something fundamental about them never changed. How sweet the moment was. 

But Kugutsu wasn’t here.

The warmth in his chest cooled as his thoughts drifted back to the silent figure waiting at the door. The girls’ excitement dimmed when they noticed her.

Nanako frowned, crossing her arms. “Who’s that?”

“She doesn’t look very fun,” Mimiko added, her brow furrowed.

Geto’s smirk faded. He straightened and motioned for Kugutsu to step inside. She moved without hesitation, the hem of her robes trailing behind her in a way that should have looked elegant— but there was no grace in it. Just precision. A marionette guided by invisible strings.

“This is Kugutsu Sone,” Geto said. “She’s going to stay with us for a while.”

Nanako tilted her head, scrutinizing Kugutsu like she was trying to solve a puzzle. “She’s weird.”

“She’s quiet,” Mimiko corrected. “Why is she so quiet?”

They made to step closer, but Geto held up a hand, stopping them in their tracks.

“She is… an old classmate of mine,” he said carefully, eyes flicking to Kugutsu before settling back on them. “She ran into trouble with some non-sorcerers.”

It wasn’t a lie. Not really.

The girls gave Kugutsu another once-over, fidgeting under the weight of the unnatural silence she carried. Kugutsu, for her part, remained utterly still, watching the exchange but not engaging, not responding. 

The tension lingered until another voice cut through it from deeper inside.

“Another recruit, huh?” Miguel emerged, wiping his hands on a towel. He paused when he saw Kugutsu. His eyes narrowed slightly, studying her. “She doesn’t look like one of your usuals.”

“She’s not,” Geto admitted.

Miguel didn’t press, but his gaze lingered on Kugutsu a moment longer before he turned to Geto. “She's gonna help with business, or is she just another stray?”

“Business,” Geto said firmly. “Kugutsu, show him.”

Kugutsu tilted her head slightly. Like the words had to travel through unseen pathways, like something in her mind had to be unlocked before the request could be understood.

Then, she stepped forward.

Kugutsu reached out, resting her fingers lightly on Geto’s shoulder. The touch was familiar, her cursed energy molding to his like it had countless times before, adjusting itself instinctively. Back then, it had been deliberate. A skill honed through trust, through fighting side by side.

Now, it was empty.

A familiar warmth coursed through his body as his cursed energy swelled under her enhancement. Stronger. Sharper. It should have felt natural, but the absence of intent behind it made his skin crawl.

“She manipulates cursed energy,” Geto explained. “It’s incredibly precise.”

Miguel watched the display with a skeptical frown. “Looks useful enough, but…” He turned back to Geto. “She doesn’t talk?”

“She talks,” Geto said, though even he sounded unconvinced. Something sharp echoed under his words.

The girls exchanged glances, their unease palpable.

“Creepy,” Nanako muttered under her breath.

“Enough,” Geto snapped, his tone sharper than usual. The girls fell silent, retreating slightly. He sighed, running a heavy hand through his hair.

He turned back to Kugutsu.

“Go upstairs. Find the room at the end of the hall. That’s where you’ll stay.”

Her response was immediate. She turned and walked toward the stairs without hesitation.

“She’s not right.” Miguel began, eyes tracing the space where Kugutsu just was.

Geto didn’t answer.

“Last I heard… isn’t that the girl who’s Gojo’s property?”

The words hit heavier than Miguel probably intended, but Geto didn’t let it show. A long silence stretched between them.

“She isn’t anyone’s property.”

He had meant it. But the way Kugutsu had followed him inside without hesitation, the way she had placed her hand on his shoulder without any intent of her own, the way she had moved at his command, the way she had obeyed,  told a different story.

Satoru had once told him that the clans didn’t raise people, they raised weapons. That they groomed heirs and tools, not individuals. Back when things between them were much simpler. 

How the hell did Satoru let this happen?

Later, after the house had settled into a restless quiet, Geto found himself walking toward the room he had given Kugutsu. He wasn’t sure what he expected. 

Maybe he had thought she would lie down, try to rest. Maybe he had hoped she would be awake, unsettled by the unfamiliar space. Maybe he had even braced himself for her to stand stiffly by the window, watching the outside world like a caged animal.

But the moment he stepped inside, all of those expectations died in an instant.

Because Kugutsu was kneeling. In the dead center of the room. Not doing anything. Not moving. Not meditating. Just… kneeling. Waiting.

His fingers twitched at his sides, irritation curling in his gut before he could stop it.

Of course.

Of course, she wasn’t reacting. Of course, she wasn’t even trying to reclaim anything for herself. She was just sitting there.

Like she wasn’t supposed to be a person anymore.

Geto leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms, forcing his tone into something light despite the slow-burning frustration coiling beneath his skin.

“You don’t sleep now?”

Kugutsu’s head tilted slightly, as if processing the question. Like the idea of resting had never occurred to her.

“I will if you command it, sir” she said, voice smooth, toneless. It was the first time Geto had heard her voice since he found her like this. Yet it sounded nothing like the sorcerer he knew.

Geto forced his expression into something neutral, staring at her for a long moment before exhaling sharply. “Tch. Just do what you want.”

“I have no wants, sir.”

And then nothing. She didn’t move. Didn’t react. Didn’t get up, didn’t make any indication that she was going to do anything at all.

Geto sighed, rubbing his temple. This wasn’t going to be easy. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he clicked his tongue and turned away, closing the door behind him.

He didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with this. Not right now. Later.

The clock on his phone flicked past 2:13 AM, but Gojo wasn’t sleeping. Not that he ever slept much anyway, but tonight, the silence felt heavier. His office at Jujutsu High was a mess– papers scattered across the desk, a whiteboard covered in half-erased notes, photos pinned up in a chaotic web of string and markers. Every lead he’d chased had led to nothing, every name he’d pressed had come up empty.

Kugutsu was gone.

Gojo let out a slow breath, tilting his head back against the chair. His sunglasses were tossed carelessly onto the desk, his usual blindfold hanging loosely around his neck. The dim glow of his phone screen cast sharp shadows across the room. Nothing. No leads. No trace. Like she had just vanished.

His fingers tapped against the table restlessly.

The thought made his cursed energy pulse around him, something raw and unsettled creeping beneath his skin. To be frank, Satoru Gojo was pissed. And when he was pissed, that typically meant there was something to blow up. Something would be in front of him he could beat into a bloody pulp and be done with it. There was nothing to punch. Just… no trace.

Her home was untouched. The mask was gone. She was somewhere. This ritual probably already took place and he had no idea where. 

He should put a tracking device on her. Like those little tags that give him feedback on his phone. No, that wouldn’t work. That would be mean. But he might suggest it when she gets back. When she gets back.

The numbers on his phone flickered again. 2:14 AM.

Gojo exhaled slowly, pressing his thumb and forefinger against his temple. This wasn’t getting him anywhere. Every name he had shaken down had nothing for him. Every trace of cursed energy- cold. Every possible lead, every thread he pulled at, just slipped through his fingers like sand.

She was nowhere. Not dead. Not alive. Just… gone.

That pissed him off the most. If she were dead, he’d feel it. He knew he would. Jujutsu sorcerers didn’t just vanish without a trace unless someone wanted them to disappear. His fingers twitched against the desk. He wanted- needed- to be doing something. To move. To find someone who had seen something. Someone to interrogate. Someone to throw against a wall until they coughed up something useful.

Instead, all he had was silence. And he hated silence.

How the hell did I let this happen?

His cursed energy flickered, distorting the air around him. No forced entry, no residual cursed energy left behind. But the cult, the one they had been looking into, had too many dead ends.

There were reports of activity in different places. Cult members moving, gathering. Something was happening, and then she had a kind of blank look in her eyes for a few days straight. Something Gojo couldn’t really understand. And then… vanished without a trace.

None of them were talking. Or, the ones who were were blubbering idiots with a religious fervor even the fear of death couldn’t surpass. Gojo had interrogated a few low-level members, pressed them for anything they knew. But their answers were inconsistent. Some acted like they had never even heard of her. Others whispered about the King’s Gift. In the past tense, like she had already been– like it was too late.

His fingers drummed against the desk. That was what didn’t make sense. If Kugutsu had been taken for the ritual, there would be something left behind. These types of cults were always the same- messy, desperate. They left trails. A location. A witness. Non-sorcerers, even in this quantity and this level of organization, couldn’t hide all of that. Not from him.

If there was a non-sorcerer who saw what happened. He would know. He would find out. He would get information. But there was nothing. Nobody who seemed to actually be there.

Maybe they were all just dead. Maybe they killed themselves in some mass suicide. No, that didn’t make sense either. This cult wanted Sukuna’s favor. Can’t get someone’s favor if you die. Though maybe they were dead but killed. Did the ritual kill them? Were they human sacrifices? Blood is an important component in many old powerful rituals. 

If everyone who was there was dead, then who had her? She wasn’t just wandering around that wouldn’t make sense. Did she get gifted to some curse user already? What curse user was powerful enough to–

His phone rang, and rang and rang again. Then, with a flicker of irritation, he grabbed it off the desk.

A mission. 

His teeth clicked together. Perfect timing. Gojo inhaled slowly through his nose, pushing back his frustration. He didn’t want to go. He should be here. He should be looking for Kugutsu. He should be doing something that actually mattered. But who else was going to handle it?

If he didn’t go, someone else would be sent instead. Someone weak. Someone who might not come back. If he didn’t go, people would die for no reason. And that was the kind of thing he couldn’t ignore.

Gojo sighed, leaning back in his chair. For a long moment, he just sat there, phone glowing in his hand, tempted to refuse. Then, finally, he shoved his blindfold back over his eyes, ignoring the dull ache at the back of his skull.

His search would have to wait. But he wasn’t done. And when this was over, when the next name he chased down gave him something solid. There wasn’t a damn thing in the world that was going to stop him. He was sick and tired of the people around him disappearing like ghosts. He was done with that.

The Geto family home was still. Not the warm, fuzzy stillness that a home full of love and comfort brings. But the unnatural stillness of a building holding its breath. 

Kugutsu’s body knelt in the middle of the living room, its hands clasped neatly in her lap. Her posture was rigid, precise but unnatural. The kind that at a glance was inhuman.

Nanako and Mimiko sat across from her, watching.

“She’s doing it again,” Nanako muttered, frowning.

Mimiko nodded. “Yeah. Just… sitting there.”

But it wasn’t just that. It was the way she sat there. Like she was waiting. Or listening to something none of them could hear. She had been like this for hours. Eating only when told to, moving only when directed. It was creepy.

The girls watched the stillness of their newest “companion” with morbid curiosity and natural disdain. Geto and Miguel were off doing some errands, something that would take a while but wouldn’t be too difficult. They were strong, they would be fine. So in other words it was just the weird masked girl, and the twins- well, and Geto’s cursed snake.

Geto, ever wary, had left a few of his cursed spirits behind with the girls to ensure their safety. They swam and sludged through the air, peacefully patrolling the inner perimeter of their home.

One such curse, a familiar winged snake, floated around Kugutsu’s head lazily. It was familiar in a way Kugutsu couldn’t place anymore. She wasn’t sure why, but something deep within the hollow vessel that was her body wanted to reach out and touch it. But she did not move, ignoring the want to touch, to reach out, until she couldn’t bear it anymore.

The next time the creature floated by her face a hand reached out and grabbed the curse, startling the two young girls. She held it tightly in one hand, her head tilted slightly in confusion. Why did she care about this small insignificant creature?

Then she felt it again. Another instinct. She could feel Geto’s cursed energy through the creature. The instinct to mold herself. The instinct to be useful and assist her temporary master. So she did, relinquished herself to the feeling, searching this tiny creature for Geto’s energy. It was familiar, almost routine, how easy it was. 

And there she sat for the next 3 hours before Geto returned, silently enhancing his cursed energy wherever he was.

By the time Geto and Miguel returned, their clothes were streaked with blood- none of it theirs.

Geto wiped his jaw with the back of his sleeve, exhaling sharply as he stepped into the house. The lingering smell of incense mixed with the metallic scent of fresh blood.

Miguel trailed in behind him, muttering something about idiots who didn’t know when to surrender.

But Geto wasn’t listening.

Because the moment he stepped into the main hall, his winged serpent lifted its head. It wrapped itself around Kugutsu’s still outstretched hand. She was still sitting there. Still kneeling. Still enhancing his energy. He could see the faint outline of his own cursed energy on his body. 

Geto immediately knew something was off.

His cursed energy had felt strange the entire mission. Stronger. Sharper. Like he had an extra layer of control, a boost that shouldn’t have been there. A familiar high, like he could topple mountains and destroy whatever he put his hands on.

He had recognized the sensation, of course. It was her. But she hadn’t been with him and he had almost forgotten about the curious state he found her in. And now, here she was. Sitting in the same position, as if she hadn’t moved in hours. A deep frown settled onto his face.

“…What is she doing?” he asked.

Nanako gestured lazily at Kugutsu. “I don’t know she's just been staring at that snake.”

Mimiko added, “No one asked her to.”

Geto’s frown deepened. “For how long?”

“Like three hours.” The two spoke simultaneously.

That gave him pause.

Three hours. She had been enhancing him for three hours straight. He had felt it, he knew it had been a while… but the fact that no one asked? Without a word. Without a command. Without reason. Geto stepped closer, his gaze sharp, searching her face for any flicker of awareness.

“Kugutsu.”

Her head lifted slightly.

His jaw clenched. “Why did you do that?”

A pause.

“Useful.” Her voice was toneless, empty and hollow.

Geto stared at her. Something in his chest twisted. Because he knew exactly what it felt like to be enhanced by Kugutsu. It was familiar. It was a skill they had honed together. But this? This wasn’t the same. She hadn’t done it because he asked. She hadn’t done it because he needed her to. Did this mean something of Kugutsu, the girl he had trained, was still in there? Or did it mean that she was just further devolving into something unrecognizable. He truly hoped for the former. 

“You can stop now,” he said quietly.

Kugutsu nodded once. The energy stopped. No resistance. No hesitation. Like flipping a switch.

Miguel, who had remained silent, finally spoke up.

“…Yeah, that’s weird.” His voice trailed off.

Nanako crossed her arms. “Creepy.”

Mimiko muttered, “I don’t like it.”

Geto couldn’t help but agree. Couldn’t help but remember the last conversation they had before he left Jujutsu High. How she had asked him if he thought he should take the binding vow from Satoru. Looking at the vessel before her, at his old protege. Is this really any different? If he had done it back then… would anything be different?

The card weighed heavily in his pocket. What would be different?

It wasn’t the first time Satoru Gojo would be called into a meeting with the clan elders and unfortunately this would not be the last. This meeting; however, was a little more personal. 

Gojo stepped into the main audience chamber, his hands shoved into his pockets, his usual smirk nowhere to be seen. He felt their eyes on him before anyone spoke.

Gojo clan elders sat in a perfect, unmoving line before him, their gazes sharp, their expressions blank. The pillars of the Gojo Clan. The men who had dictated his future before he was even born. And now, apparently, Kugutsu’s.

The head elder, a man with black hair and deep-set eyes, exhaled through his nose. “Gojo-sama. You’ve been avoiding us.”

Gojo didn't bother with pleasantries. “Didn’t feel like listening to more old men talk about things that don’t concern them.”

A few of them frowned.

“She concerns us,” another elder said. “She has since the moment she stepped into our service.”

“Into my service you mean.”

“You knew our intentions, Gojo-sama,” the head elder continued. “We were patient. We allowed you to dictate the pace. But now, she has abandoned her responsibilities to yourself and the clan.”

“As far as I’m aware she was barely involved with you geezers.”

The room soured.

“Yes.. you made your opinions on that quite clear. That doesn’t mean she did not have… other responsibilities to attend to. While you may have ordered her to… utter such foul words that does not mean she did not accomplish what she needed to.”

Gojo’s eyebrow twitched. 

“She was an investment. And one that should have remained under your control.” another elder said, his tone full of ire.

The pressure in the room shifted. Gojo felt it. But more importantly, he noticed something. They weren’t angry. They weren’t concerned. They were disappointed. Not because Kugutsu was gone. But because she had been theirs. And they had expected Gojo to keep her where she belonged. His stomach twisted.

“Investment, how?” Gojo spoke, forcing himself to exhale.

A beat of silence.

Then-

“You were meant to take her as your own. We were preparing her to do just that.”

The words hit him like a cold wind. For a moment, he thought he had misheard. Then he saw the way they were looking at him. Like this had always been the plan. Like it was obvious. His fingers curled into tight, shaking fists. Of course this is what they were planning.

“Excuse me?”

“You knew this,” the elder continued, calm as ever. “It was a natural course of action. A sorcerer of your caliber–”

“ – Doesn’t need someone chained to him,” Gojo snapped.

“It was not about need, or being chained as you so indelicately put it” the elder replied smoothly. “It was about stability and longevity for the Gojo clan. Kugutsu’s binding vow already placed her under our jurisdiction. Her technique, her abilities and furthermore her children would have belonged to the Gojo Clan either way. This is simply about solidifying such a capable, unclaimed cursed technique within the Gojo clan’s genes. Whether through you or another chosen heir, her fate was decided the moment she was marked as compatible. We simply thought given your… connection and your power you would be the most acceptable offering.”

Compatible. Offering? Gojo’s breath stilled. His heartbeat roared in his ears. He had always known the elders watched Kugutsu closely. He had known they saw potential in her. That they considered her a tool. But this? This was different. He had been clumsy. His orders to her bid her only tell them to go away, but if they realized that was the extent of it… simple words…

 This was– This was why she never told him. A horrible, dawning realization settled into his chest. 

Kugutsu had known. They had been… preparing her– whatever that meant. She knew. She had known how they spoke about her. How they saw her. What they were planning. And she hadn’t told him. There was no way she didn’t know. She had kept it from him. Because– what? 

She thought he wouldn’t care?

She thought he couldn’t stop it?

She thought he would just go along with it?

She thought she had to?

His mind reeled, back to their fight in his office. Back to her eyes, drowned in worry and lack of sleep. How she thought he didn’t care. How she thought he was just using her. Of course… Why would she think otherwise?

A slow, terrible exhale left his lips. “I am so done with this.”

The pressure in the room dropped. It wasn’t like before. Before, it had been a warning. A flash of irritation. But this? This was anger. The elders stiffened. Gojo smiled. It wasn’t friendly. His eyes were manic, shining brightly like the light at the end of the tunnel. A discreet promise for violence and bloodshed

“You thought you could just… decide that?” His voice was eerily calm, the storm before the inevitable. “You thought you could just make that call?”

“It was the most logical outcome,” one of them said, still trying to control the conversation. “Preserving the Gojo Clan’s position of power in future generations is of great importance.”

Gojo laughed. A short, sharp, humorless thing. 

“Oh,” he said. “Fuck that noise”

The walls groaned under the weight of his cursed energy.

“Gojo-sama,” the head elder warned. But it was too late.

“You talk a lot about fate,” he murmured, taking a slow step forward. “But let me tell you how things are actually gonna go.”

The floorboards beneath his feet splintered.

“When Kugutsu comes back, You will not touch her. You will not use her. You will not look at her.”

The elders stiffened.

“This carrying on the bloodline shit dies right here and now. Whatever preparations end. Now.”

His voice dropped lower. The ceiling beams above them shuddered.

“Otherwise the Gojo bloodline ends with me.”

A deadly silence descended on the room.

Gojo tilted his head. “That clear enough for you?”

The head elder’s hands clenched subtly. “You overestimate your influence, Satoru.”

Gojo’s smirk returned. “Do I?”

And then, just to make sure they really understood– He took one more step forward. The entire room buckled. A sharp, crushing force flooded the space, pressing against the walls, the air, the very foundation of the estate.

The elders froze. For the first time, they looked afraid. Good.

Gojo clicked his tongue. “See, I don’t think I do.”

And just like that he turned and walked away. Leaving behind splintered wood, cracked floors, and a silence heavy with unspoken fury. 

She never told me. 

She should have told me. 

I’m going to give her so much shit when she gets back.

Shit.

Chapter Text

Two months had passed since Kugutsu’s disappearance. Her body had spent the majority of time kneeling in Geto’s abode. Staring silently and following orders when asked. The others had gotten used to her presence by now. She was still strange but she was like a silent sentinel protecting the home.  

At first, Geto’s family had been wary of her presence. She was a sorcerer, an outsider, someone bound to them only by Geto’s will. But time had a way of softening even the strangest of situations. The eerie, unmoving girl who almost never spoke had become just another part of the household– an odd but accepted presence.

The children, especially, had taken to her in peculiar ways.

It started with little things- placing a folded cloth on her head to see if she would react. She never did. Then, one day, Mimiko carefully stacked a small wooden block on top of her head. Kugutsu didn’t flinch, didn’t acknowledge it at all.

That was the beginning of a game.

“Bet you I can stack five before she notices,” Nanako grinned, balancing another piece atop Kugutsu’s motionless form.

“She never notices,” Mimiko countered, placing a sixth.

More often than not, the girls would end up giggling as the structure inevitably toppled from her head. Kugutsu never reacted, never scolded them, never even acknowledged their game. It made them bolder. Sometimes, they draped scarves over her shoulders, whispering that she looked like a queen. Other times, they placed flowers in her hair, weaving them into small braids.

They never received a response, but they never stopped either.

And then there was her cooking.

It had been an accident, really. One day, Geto had offhandedly asked her to prepare something while he was handling other matters. She obeyed, of course, and when the meal was ready, it was... surprisingly good.

“She should cook more often,” Miguel mused between bites, their usual suspicion momentarily forgotten.

“Right? It’s way better than Geto’s burned rice,” Nanako teased, sticking out a tongue towards her father figure.

After that, requests started coming in- not as orders, but as casual suggestions.

“Hey, if you’re not busy, can you make that miso soup again?”

No reply. But the soup was there the next day.

It was strange how someone so detached could weave themselves into the fabric of a household. How a girl who spoke so little, who showed so little, could still be acknowledged as part of the group. But Geto knew better.

He watched as Kugutsu moved through the days like a puppet without strings, as his people adjusted to her presence without truly questioning it. It was easy for them to accept her like this. Easier to pretend she was just another part of their strange little family.

But Geto couldn't lie to himself. This wasn’t her.

This was a husk, a hollow imitation of the girl who once challenged him in sparring matches, who studied cursed energy with obsessive precision, who argued about mission strategies with an unwavering sense of duty. 

And that was why today would be different.

As the morning light filtered through the wooden walls, Kugutsu knelt in her usual spot, hands resting on her lap. The children were already eyeing her, a few small objects in hand, ready to start their daily game.

But before they could approach, Geto spoke.

“She’s coming with me today.”

The room went quiet. Mimiko and Nanako exchanged glances, their small tower of objects forgotten.

“She doesn’t usually go anywhere,” Mimiko said hesitantly.

“She stays here,” Nanako added, as if reminding him of an unspoken rule.

“Not today,” Geto said firmly. “Come.”

Kugutsu didn’t react to his words, but as soon as he turned and walked towards the door, she stood, following him without question.

The others watched as the two disappeared from the house, the air feeling just a little heavier in their absence.

The mission was going well.

That was the easiest way to describe it. Kugutsu followed orders. She always did. Geto spoke, and she moved. He pointed, and she struck. She did not hesitate, did not fumble, did not stop to consider anything beyond the command given.

They moved together as though scripted, their coordination effortless. An echo of something practiced, something familiar.

But it also wasn’t. Kugutsu and Geto had always worked well together. Their cursed techniques (or his cursed technique and her strange cursed energy) were well suited for fighting as a unit. But that always required a certain level of respect from both of them. A certain understanding of the way they both fought, and then the awareness to react accordingly. But this was different. Kugutsu did not move unless ordered to. Geto called, Kugutsu answered. 

Kugutsu struck true, her fists pummeling the curse before her as instructed. The curse twisted violently before them, its grotesque limbs writhing, lashing out in desperation. Geto’s summons had weakened it, his precise, calculated movements pushing it closer and closer to its inevitable end.

Kugutsu didn’t think. She didn’t need to.

Geto’s command came: "Restrain."

She matched her cursed energy with the creature before her, morphing herself into something that it would accept. And then she did as she was commanded. 

Geto was already moving. Already reaching out. Already condensing this curse into nothing more than an orb between his fingers.

Already consuming.

And that was when it happened.

A memory, something- a vision- flashed through the body that was Kugutsu. Overlaying in stark detail over the sight of the man before him swallowing the curse whole.

Kugutsu had never given much thought to how Geto looked while taming his curses. That is until right now. It wasn’t something people talked about. Not even Gojo. It was one of those things you don’t think about until it’s staring you in the face. She had come to tell Geto something important. But as she watched him swallow, the words curdled in her throat- rotten before they could be spoken.

He looked strained. His head tilted back, jaw wrenched open as a writhing mass of cursed energy plunged down his throat- too large, too violent, too wrong. His eyes went wide, raw with something Kugutsu could only liken to disgust. His hand shot up, clamping over his mouth. He looked like he might vomit, like he wanted to purge every last trace of the thing writhing inside him. His throat convulsed, straining against the intrusion, but he swallowed it down, a shudder running through him.

For someone Kugutsu had admired like a god, he looked painfully human.

The past bled into the present, overlapping like a ghost pressing its hand against a fogged mirror.

For just a moment, her breath hitched. Her fingers twitched, her body stiffening- not in reaction to an order, not in response to a command, but on its own. She saw him now. Not just the leader, not just the figure giving commands, not just the one she obeyed.

But him.

The way his shoulders trembled faintly, the way his breath left in a slow, careful exhale. The way his fingers lingered just a second too long at his lips, as if still feeling the last traces of what he had swallowed.

He looked… painfully Human.

Kugutsu Sone was not a tool. She was watching.

“Kugutsu?”

Geto’s voice pulled her back. She blinked. The curse was gone. His posture had returned to its usual ease, his expression schooled into something composed, confident. His lips curled into something close to a smirk.

It’s… not pleasant. But it’s necessary. She heard his voice repeat over and over. But someone younger, someone lighter. Someone… friendlier?

A lie. A practiced, necessary lie.

And, in response the words rolled from her mouth without her or her body’s consent.

“You look like hell.”

Geto froze.

​​For a moment, the battlefield around them ceased to exist. The remnants of cursed energy still hummed in the air, settling like dust in the aftermath of the fight. But none of it mattered. Not the mission. Not the silence that had followed.

Kugutsu, still standing where she had been, her body poised like a puppet awaiting its next command. But her face- her face was different. The usual emptiness in her expression had faltered, just slightly. Her lips had moved before she even seemed to realize it, the words slipping out in a breathless whisper.

“Is it.. always that bad?”

Geto felt something stir in his chest, a sharp pull of recognition. He knew those words. He knew that voice. Not the hollow, obedient tone she used now. But something older, something laced with quiet exasperation and reluctant concern. A voice that had once spoken to him in that alleyway and  picked apart his cursed energy like a puzzle waiting to be solved. His fingers twitched.

Kugutsu was here.

Somewhere behind the fog, behind the layer of absolute compliance, something had cracked. It wasn’t much- just the faintest fracture- but it was real. And he wasn’t about to let it slip away. 

He stepped forward slowly, carefully, as if approaching something fragile.

"Kugutsu."

Her eyes flickered, distant but not empty. Her posture stiffened just slightly, as though her body wasn’t sure whether to respond.

"You remember that, don’t you?"

No response.

But she hadn’t shut down, not yet.

Geto took another step, his voice quieter now, coaxing. "That wasn’t just something you said. You remember saying that before."

Kugutsu’s breath hitched. A flicker of something passed through her gaze- hesitation? Recognition?

For a split second, Geto could see it. Not the tool. Not the perfectly obedient soldier. But her.

"Where are you right now?" he asked.

Kugutsu’s lips parted, her voice catching in her throat. "I…"

She faltered. Her fingers twitched at her sides, curling slightly as if grasping at something unseen. A thought. A memory. A self that was just out of reach. Geto could feel his own heartbeat in his ears, slow and steady, as though afraid to move too quickly.

"Kugutsu," he repeated, her name grounding, solid. "You– "

Then, just as suddenly as it had happened, the moment was gone. Something in her gaze flickered out, like a candle snuffed in an instant. Her fingers uncurled. Her posture straightened. Her breath evened. The fracture sealed itself shut. And then, nothing. Kugutsu’s face returned to its usual unreadable stillness under the mask. The faint trace of recognition in her eyes was gone, replaced once more by the cold, mechanical obedience that had taken root.

She tilted her head at him, not teasingly but in that cold hollow way that told him she was just waiting. Waiting for the next thing to do.

He stared at her, willing her to falter, to give some sign that the shift hadn’t been a fluke. But there was nothing. No trace of the Kugutsu who had called him out in that alleyway, who had analyzed his cursed energy like classical poetry. No trace of the girl who had once looked at him and said, “You should keep it like that.”

Finally, Geto sighed, exhaling slowly. The composed leader had returned to his face, smoothing over the tension like it had never existed.

“Let's go.”

He turned, moving toward the exit. Kugutsu followed. Like she always did. Like she always would. But the crack was still there. No matter how faint, no matter how deep beneath the surface. There was a crack in the wall. 

The walk back was quiet. 

Not in an unusual way. Kugutsu never spoke, never made unnecessary noise. But Geto’s mind was loud. He kept his pace steady, his expression composed, but his thoughts churned. What had just happened– what he had just seen wasn’t nothing.

It was small. Barely noticeable. A flicker in her voice, a fraction of hesitation, a question that should not have been asked.

"Is it… always that bad?"

That wasn’t an automatic response. That wasn’t obedience. That was her. Kugutsu fell back into perfect compliance, her presence returning to that eerie, weightless state- there, but not there. Yet Geto now knew.

There was something inside her still responding. Still reacting. Still remembering. And more importantly- he had figured out what triggered it.

Familiarity.

It was so simple. So obvious. So ironic given what he knew about her cursed technique.

The moment that had pulled her out of her hollow state wasn’t pain. Wasn’t force. Wasn’t even his voice. It was him. His cursed energy. His technique. Something she had seen before. Something she had experienced before.

Like a ghost returning to the place of its death.

Even in her current state, Kugutsu was drawn to familiarity. She responded to things she had once known- not in the way she obeyed orders, but in a quiet, instinctual way. Like how she was drawn to his snake curse.

Geto tested his theory as they walked.

He took a slight detour, passing by an alleyway nearly identical to the one they had once stood in as students. Kugutsu didn’t react outwardly. She still followed without question, without awareness. But he swore, just for a moment, her gaze lingered.

It was subtle. If he hadn’t been watching her so closely, he would have missed it entirely. She had no reason to look. No order to observe. No command to react. And yet, that was enough.

Geto didn’t smile, didn’t let his satisfaction show. But a plan was already forming in the back of his mind. Familiarity is the key. He would use this. 

The thought lingered as they arrived back at the compound. Kugutsu stepped inside without hesitation, kneeling in her usual place as if nothing had happened. The others barely glanced at her- she was just as she had always been. Unchanging. Unquestioning.

Geto let out a slow breath. Progress.

The man across from him was visibly trembling, his drink untouched. He wasn’t a sorcerer of note, just a cursed user unlucky enough to cross paths with Satoru Gojo. A low hum of cursed energy thrummed in the air between them, not strong enough to suffocate but potent enough to make a point. 

Gojo sat back, one leg crossed over the other, his blindfold in place but doing nothing to mask the weight of his gaze. His usual easygoing grin was absent, replaced by an unsettling calm.

“Start from the beginning,” Gojo said, his tone light but unyielding.

“I-I don’t know much,” the man stammered, his hands twitching. “Just- just what I saw.”

“Try harder.”

The man swallowed hard. “A tall guy, dark hair, pretty handsome.” Gojo couldn't help but smirk at that. “Wearing monk robes all weird like. And some other girl with him. With with- with a mask!”

Gojo’s fingers twitched against his knee. “A mask,” he repeated, his voice dropping slightly. “Describe it.”

“White,” the man said quickly. “Smooth, a weird red eye.”

Gojo exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening beneath the blindfold. “And the woman?”

“She was quiet,” the man said, his voice growing fainter. “Didn’t say anything, just followed him. Like she wasn’t… really there.”

The man, a cursed user, trembled under Gojo’s unrelenting gaze. He may not have introduced himself, but it was clear he knew who he was dealing with. Good. That made things easier. 

Gojo leaned forward, the movement almost imperceptible, but enough to make the man shrink back. “Where were they headed?”

“I-I don’t know,” the man stuttered. “I didn’t follow them but maybe west?. I swear.”

For a long moment, Gojo didn’t speak. The silence pressed down on the man like a weight. Finally, Gojo leaned back, feigning nonchalance.

“Fiiiiiine,” Gojo drawled, standing up with an exaggerated stretch. “Just don’t go doing something that makes me have to come back, alright?”

His voice was cheery but the threat was clear.

Outside, the chill of the night hit him, but it did little to cool the turmoil bubbling beneath his skin. A mask. Silent. Still. He didn’t need to hear more to know it was Kugutsu. The red eye on the mask was new… concerning but new.

And with Geto, of all people.

Gojo’s chest tightened. After everything, after the years of silence and estrangement, Suguru still had her. What the hell are you doing, Suguru? What the hell is she doing with you?

The anger came first, hot and sharp, directed at both of them. But then came the guilt, heavier, colder, and far harder to shake.

He thought of Kugutsu as she had been: sharp, meticulous, a little too serious but always fiercely capable. He considered her his first student. His friend. The girl who had placed her trust in him, who had taken on a binding vow because he said it would protect her.

The vow had shielded her from many, but he hadn’t seen the cracks it had left behind. And now, she was… what? A doll? A ghost of herself? Following Suguru like a puppet on strings?

He exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair as his cursed energy flickered faintly at the edges of his presence.

“You better have a damn good reason for this, Suguru,” he murmured to the empty night.

The thought of Kugutsu with Geto should have been comforting. He trusted him more than most- more than himself, sometimes. But this wasn’t the same Suguru. This was the man he could no longer read, the man who had walked away from everything they had built together. Could he still trust him? Did he even have a choice? Even if he still felt the same way, was Suguru the same? Surely he was.

He thought of their fight, of her sharp tongue and stubborn defiance, of the mask that had burned against her skin. He thought of the elders’ words, their cold plans to use her for their lineage. And he thought of Suguru- his best friend, the one person he still trusted despite the fractures between them.

Would she have been better with him? Away from the clan’s grasp?

No. He pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t a tool, wasn’t a doll, wasn’t something to be passed between them like an obligation. She was Kugutsu. 

And he wasn’t done losing people.

With a flicker of cursed energy, Gojo vanished into the night, heading west.