Née Dans Les étoiles

Lurking in the dark for over 2 decades ^^

[lkbunni00]

CN girls who support Valko we beg you to speak up tomorrow!! Don’t let the toxic people in the community make you afraid to stand up for what’s right. Infolds numbers are crashing across social media and with your help it might just push them over the edge!

[lacetulle]

Ashi Studio | Fall/Winter 2025 Couture

[thechaoticarchivist]

Chapter 5 Cross Posted to Ao3 || Ch 1 | Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4

Paring: Sylus x Hacker!Reader Rating: M (Subject to change) 18 + MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Story Content Warning: All the fun illegal things of a criminal mastermind, including: fights, hacking, stealing, ; Reader has a rough past that will be revealed with time (and proper warnings on those chapters) ; cussing ; slow burn ; boss / employee eventual relationship ; canon divergent ; sex tape used for blackmail (minor OC characters in tape), tags and warnings subject to be updated Story Summary: The world within the N109 Zone has always been a tough one to navigate, but your only loyalty has always been yourself, and it's kept you alive this long. But when the leader of Onychinus wants you to work for him, well - he's not exactly used to the word no, is he? A/N: We have once more found ourselves in the building up of what comes next - I hope you enjoy! I do want to mention that the next couple chapters (and a special .5 chapter) may be a little slow in appearing over the next couple of months. I am the host of @thedrabblecollective challenge, and I participate myself (this time will be a Sylus based story). April is my prep month and May is when the challenge takes place, so it'll be a busy time for me. I ask for patience, lovelies, but know I am not going to be abandoning Choices! I have the rest of this story planned out, it's just getting time to sit and write.

The stress ball in your hand was nearly at it's end with the pressure you were putting behind your squeezes. It was ridiculous, actually, how annoyed this whole situation made you. Getting into Avery's system should have led to something by now. What that something was - you still weren't sure, but having zero answers after a few days was not something you appreciated.

Your attitude had soured with each passing day, to the point that even the twins were dodging your usual haunt. Your lack of process was effecting everyone.

As you sat in thought, trying to think of any strategy you had not attempted yet in your search, a message appeared on your phone.

Grab your gear and meet me downstairs.

Groaning, you pushed up from your spot and headed toward your room. Sure, a few days ago asking Sylus to teach you how to box sounded like a great idea, but you were regretting any time away from your machines at the moment. Sylus had sent you a link of what equipment to get before today, and it had sat untouched in your room since it arrived.

Changing quickly into workout clothes, a thin, sweat wicking, long sleeved top, leggings, and (according to him because you couldn't tell the difference), proper shoe wear, you grabbed the rolls of green wraps, swung by the kitchen to grab a water bottle, and made your way down to the gym. And with each step, your nerves took a little firmer hold.

This was not normal…right? Your boss turning into your personal trainer? What would he expect from you, anyway? This was another new thing - another first, but this time you lacked the skills to even fake confidence in the situation.

Sylus' back was to you when you reached the doorway, although he turned your direction when he heard your footsteps across the floor. He wore a more modest look than when you had initially stumbled on him in here. While the black tank remained the same, he wore full length black joggers, making you a little more comfortable.

But damn if he didn't look No. No, no, not going to go there. Nope.

There was a piece of paper in his hand that he was passing over to you, and you took it as he took the wraps from you. It was a calendar - the next thirty days of workouts meticulously planned out.

"There's more to boxing that just throwing punches," he explained as you read over the sheet. "You mentioned you hadn't done anything like this before. We'll work on strengthening your whole body. We'll work together at least once a week, but the rest of the time it's up to you to get down here."

You nodded, turning to drop the paper and your water bottle down at the bench that was off to the side. There was four days of rest built in, and you could already feel the future soreness in your muscles. You were mumbling under your breath, but the last part was clear enough that Sylus heard. ".. freakin' fruit vendor. No, Sy, your calling was clearly coaching."

Turning, you were confused by the emotion clouding Sylus' face. "What?"

The man just huffed, expression easing back into nonchalance as he beckoned you closer. You stepped forward, giving your hand when asked for it. "First," he said, "you have to learn how to properly wrap your hands."

Sylus showed you slowly, how to build up cushion for your knuckles, when to wrap around your wrist - the orders winding it through your fingers. The first hand you only had to redo once - the second posing to be harder with the wrap already on the first. Once he felt your wraps were good enough, you moved into stances, movements, and basic punches.

Jab - your left. Cross - your right. Lead hook - also with your left, but incredibly awkward. Slip - dodging.

All leading up to what he considered a basic sequence warm up. 1-2-Slip -2-Hook -2.

Basic your ass - your brain could break into high tech programs with ease and stealth that would make anyone jealous, but getting your limbs to cooperate in an order with multiple movements? All of a sudden you were the equivalent of a toddler learning to walk.

It had taken an embarrassing amount of time for you to figure it all out and, to Sylus' credit, he didn't seem irritated by the end of it. He was actually extremely patient with you, only touching you after asking permission and if you weren't understanding his instructions - very minimal at all. Respectful.

Unfortunately, you still felt incredibly silly and childish watching yourself in the mirror and nailing the sequence down. You were assured that would ease, but for now you were thankful to just be done.

You laid on the ground, steadying your breathing, Sylus watching you from where he sat on the bench. "You're being dramatic."

"I am not," you huffed. "I don't know the last time I moved this much."

"Pretty sure a couple of weeks ago - isn't that what you said?"

You swung a playful slap at his leg without looking, mumbling a 'jerk', and earning a chuckle as your fingertips barely grazed his pant leg.

A firm hand caught yours, though, tugging you into a seated position. Without asking, Sylus started to free your hand of your wrap, and, surprising yourself, you let him. "You did well tonight."

"Thanks," you responded, flexing your hand once it was freed. You switched your hands without being prompted, turning more to face him. "And thanks for, you know…still being willing to teach me."

Sylus' lips tilted upward just barely, but it was how his eyes softened at the comment that you really noticed. "I am happy to teach you as long as you are willing to learn." Once you were free of your wraps, they were handed back to you, and you carefully began to roll them up.

A finger poked your forehead, pulling your attention upward again. "Drink water, and have the chef make you something protein heavy." Sylus stood, now towering over you. His thumbs slipped into his pockets as he turned and headed toward the door. "Trust me - you'll thank me tomorrow."

You huffed, but he was gone before you could issue a retort.

Once the wraps were back into easy to maintain rolls, you stood, groaning at the effort, and headed back upstairs. A shower was in order first, and then you would eat and drink.

Your belly was pleasantly full as you climbed the stairs for the second time, legs feeling like your feet were made of lead, pausing at the door to the security setup to stare inside the darkened room. You really should continue your hunt, but exhaustion pulled at you like a living thing, and sleep sounded much better.

Feet led you back down into your bedroom, and you collapsed face down into the mattress, letting out a contented sigh at the softness. You didn't know a body could be so tired - and it wasn't long after you were pulled under into sleep.

Three days. It had been three days with no results. Your body was a new kind of sore as you started the regiment planned out for you, which seemed to only irritate your mood even further.

Something had to connect Avery and Caeser - anything. These types of people did not pay for others out of the kindness of their hearts. Fox face had to be a middle man of some sort, then. Which meant you really needed to figure out who -

A hiss escaped your lips as the muscles in your neck seized from a spark traveling down it. For a moment you sight went white, before it slipped away. Alright - that was a sign you were clearly pushing a little too hard. Your Evol was getting out of control.

A break - a break and your meds were probably needed for this one.

You'd just reach out to one person, really quick, first. Someone who might be able to connect you with some hackers outside of the Zone -

"Fuck!"

A current shot from the keyboard, through your arm, and up your neck. Your head throbbed dangerously.

Alright. Stopping now.

You stumbled from your chair and to the door, leaning heavily on the frame for a moment. Pushing off, you tried your best to head down the hallway to the stairs - your room was just a floor below this one.

The throbbing and the lights were causing your vision to blur, and, tripping over your own feet, you sprawled out on the floor. Murmuring every curse you knew, you pulled yourself into a seated position and leaned against the wall, closing your eyes and curling into a ball to block all light. You'd just rest here until the worst of it passed. It was fine.

Unbeknownst to you, the lights continued their rapid flickering in time to your pulse, easing with you as the minutes passed.

There was a familiar flapping of wings and a caw, and your first instinct was to flip off the owner of the sound. Too loud.

It wasn't too much longer there was voice in front of you, a gentle touch to your hair before it quickly left. "Care to explain why every light in the base has a pulse?"

Well…that wasn't good."I have a migraine," you responded, keeping your head down and eyes closed.

"So now the base does, too?" It was meant as a tease, but you could hear the underlying concern.

"I…I didn't realize I was affecting it all. I'm sorry."

In the position you were in, you couldn't see the change in your boss' face - the eyes crinkling in concern, a hesitant hand reaching out for you, flexing in the air instead of touching. He tried his best for his next words to come out nonchalant. "I doubt resting in the hallway is the best place to help it go away."

A pained noise escaped from your mouth before you responded. "I was trying to get to my room, but…I can't see."

"Ah, well there is still a bed in the room you just came from, if it would be easier to lie down in there?"

"No, I need my medicine, and it's in my room."

"I see. Well, that does cause an issue. Would you like help getting there?"

The lights flickered overhead rapidly, showing your slight panic. Twice - you would be asking for his help twice within one week. What was wrong with you? Since when were you so weak?

But the man before you took the flickering to mean something else entirely, not that you could tell by his voice. "If you rather it be Luke or Kieran, I can arrange that. What happens next is your choice."

Oh. No. Shit - that's not - you reached blindly forward, fingers wrapping around his arm and giving a small squeeze. "I don't care who it is, I just don't like asking." You took a breath, wincing at another pulse through your head and neck. "But I need help - please."

"Alright," his voice was that gentle one again, and then your hand was being moved. "Here - put your arm around my neck." He helped you, raising you up enough that one arm could slide under your knees and the other behind your back, and then you could feel yourself being lifted.

You leaned into him instinctively, his cologne filling your nose - something woodsy and smokey. It was strangely comforting.

If you were more in your right mind, you would realized how utterly weird and unprofessional this moment was, but right now you didn't care. Your head pounded louder than the bass of any car, and you just wanted it to stop.

Sylus opened the door to your room, bringing you inside and gently setting you on your bed. You rolled onto your stomach, burying your head in the pillows."Where?" is all he asked, and you barely mumbled out something about the bathroom. He found the container in the cabinet, bringing it over to you.

You unfurled from your position to open the lid, blindly feel for a pill, and swallow it dry. After closing the cap, you were curled up again, hands back on your head. Silently, you began the countdown. The medication you took was intense, forcing you to shut down, in a sense. Sleep, in another.

The bed dipped down to your left, and his voice was low but close enough to be heard. "What do you need? What can I do?"

Reaching blindly for the bottle, you held it up, feeling warm fingers take it from you. If you were to guess, you had about 45 seconds left of consciousness. "Suppressant," you explained quickly. "I'm going to fall asleep, the lights will quit flickering, and you have to let me sleep."

"A suppressant," he repeated. It felt distant - your medicine was kicking in. "Why - what haven't you told me?"

A pained chuckle escaped your throat. "You invested in a broken thing, Sylus." And then, blessedly, things went dark.

Waking up after having to take your medication always felt like removing your body from quicksand. Every limb was abnormally heavy, and your muscles felt already strained before they started to move.

The N109 Zone didn't have sun, which meant for the most part your biological clock was beyond broken on a good day. After a sleep like that, it was even worse.

Smacking your lips from dryness, you put your arms under you and slowly pushed up. Your head felt like it was made of rocks and your mouth was full of cotton.

Your groan turned into a raspy shriek as a voice spoke from beside the bed before your eyes had fully opened.

"How was your nap, kitten?"

Eyes itching from being closed so long, you rubbed them, begging them to clear so you could see the figure in the chair better. Crimson eyes almost glowed in the dark with the light from the phone in his hand. "Sylus?"

With a flick of the wrist, the lamp next to you turned on, flooding you both in a soft hue.

"Were you expecting someone else?"

You should your head, but you hadn't been expecting him, either. "How long was I out?"

"According to this," he said lifting the phone, "13 hours and 22 minutes, give or take." You didn't need to know that he was there for every second of it; every meeting changed to one he could conduct over the phone or postponed or canceled. Or that there were multiple times he almost woke you because your breathing had become so shallow he was sure that you were dead. Or the fact that all he could hear in that silence was you repeatedly calling yourself a broken thing.

No, those things wouldn't bring you comfort, so he would hide those things away inside himself, and slide over a mask of indifference instead.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better. Clearer. Thirsty."

With a hum of confirmation, Sylus watched you move and stretch, stiff joints popping after lying still for so long. You painfully swallowed to wet your throat, and red and black mist brought a cup of water to you. Nodding in thanks, you began to drink.

"Not too fast, sweetie."

You raised an eyebrow over the glass, and Sylus couldn't help but smirk back. If your attitude was already pushing through, you were feeling better.

The white haired main waited patiently for you to finish, phone now pocketed, arms resting across his chest as he took you in. "The doctor appointments are about your headaches, caused by, my guess, a lack of control over your Evol." A statement - not a question.

You nodded anyway.

There was a long time, or at least the moment seemed to stretch out uncomfortably for you, before he spoke again. "I do not believe I invested poorly when hiring you, but I do think you are hindering your own health." His hand raised, cutting off your retort. "You use your Evol when you work and at times unconsciously, I'm sure. And I'm quite sure doctors watching over your…condition have already given you suggestions on how to limit your episodes."

You nodded again. And then you realized, based on the steady gaze and a quick bounce of his eyebrow, he was waiting to hear what you were told to do. That, it seemed, was tinder for your anger. "It's less than before - I'm down to once a month visits."

Sylus' brow furrowed in response. "Appointments may be down, but I suspect you aren't exactly truthful at them."

"I have been! It's just that recently…" you trailed off, sighing. "Usually I give myself time between gigs. Bigger the job, the more days in between. I haven't…figured out how to do that with this one yet."

"You tell me you need time off, and take it."

Blinking, your gaze lifted to the ceiling. "It's not that easy."

"Why?"

"Because," you dropped your gaze back on him, meeting him eye to eye. "This is a continuous thing that has no end. I find something, tell you, and then the next thing starts. Waiting too long to move on something could be detrimental later down the road. There's no time to take breaks."

"Then make time."

Two pairs of eyes narrowed at each other. "You make it sound so easy."

"If I can make time to relax every day, then you can figure it out. You're smart, Miss Hacker - time to be smarter about yourself." He stood, striding to the door, clearly finished with this conversation. "I don't invest in broken things, sweetie." And then he was gone.

There was enough bite to that last comment that you weren't fully convinced it wasn't also some sort of threat.

Staying away from the security room was easier said than done. Even when you were trying to relax, the computer in your eye would still receive updates now and again - and you weren't going to be blamed for something you missed from not paying attention.

Even in the quiet moments you were still thinking about your job. It bothered you when you couldn't find an answer, and you'd be damned to let this problem win.

You did, for the most part, give yourself the day off outside of painfully, slowly making it through an hour of training. And then you ate and you showered…and you kept thinking.

And thinking.

Before you knew it, you were back at your desk, working once more.

Gump was another hacker you had come to know, although you had never met them in person. They received their nickname from the eight bit smiley face they used to sign everything.( It was something from an old movie you had yet to sit down and watch.) But Gump had connections way outside of the Zone. If you wanted to expand your search, starting with them would be the best option.

A flapping of wings broke your concentration from an incoming message, and you glared at the beady red eye focused on you. "Go away."

Caw.

"I took yesterday off - I'm fine. I need to work."

CAW!

"Tell your giant of a creator I don't need you to babysit me," you hissed, waving your hand and forcing Mephisto to hop to the edge of your desk.

With a final angry chirp, Mephisto flew out the open door, and you refocused on the new message. It wasn't from Gump, but an old connection from when you started out.

To: V Sent by: EXE.404

New fighter worth watching - Vulpes. Not the only V now. <secure video attached>

You sent a reply, not bothering to open the video.

I'll care when they make it to the second tier.

The bot fights were different than most underground rings. There were two tiers - the second held the top four fighters, and the first held everyone else. The first tier was open to anyone who wanted to participate, but the second tier only opened up if the correct criteria were met: the fighter must win ten consecutive matches, and the fighter had to beat the person in fifth, known as the Gatekeeper.

Two Bit, the current Gatekeeper, hadn't been beaten in years. Honestly, he was the reason for your current freedom. He took his role seriously, which allowed the four of you in the second tier to explore other careers. It was nice.

It was how you could morph into V instead of Virus in the first place.

Fighters appeared and disappeared from the first tier often, and EXE was always the first to let you know anyone they thought was worth paying attention to. They wanted you back in the rings, but you were more than happy to let Two Bit be the one in the spotlight. The rings gave you connections you now had - it was the only reason you had fought in the first place.

With a sigh, you deleted the message and got back to work.

The fifth night, you were groaning and rubbing your eyes. What were you missing? Gump's search hadn't turned anything up, but this fox had to exist somewhere. You couldn't remember the last time you had struggled so hard to pull information. Even before working for Sylus, you had found information on Onychinus easier than this.

"Another headache?"

You jumped slightly at the voice, turning to face the man filling the door frame. The light from the screens cast odd shadows across his face, making it more menacing than usual.

"No, just frustrated," you sighed. "I keep running into dead ends. Do you need something?"

In the low light, Sylus' eyes were a deep hue - one that reminded you of blood. His brows were furrowed just slightly over them, in a way that gave you the impression that you were somehow in trouble. "We're starting something new. Come on." it was a command, and Sylus expected it to be followed.

And with a huff, you did just that.

You were led upstairs this time, to a large room that had shelves upon shelves of vinyls. Sylus was busying himself with a record player at the front of the room, and you took your time to examine the shelves. Turning to the sound of an orchestra starting, you found your white haired boss taking a seat on the far side of a black, leather couch set up in the middle of the room, facing the record player and the decor around it.

Carmine eyes watched you, and an open palm was held out to you - an invitation.

Carefully, you stepped over, sitting as far away as you could from the man, who dropped his arm to rest on the back of the couch once you joined him, but not his piercing gaze.

"Why are we here?" you asked carefully.

"Because someone has to force you to take a break from staring at screens all day."

"So we're just going to sit here…and listen?"

He nodded, and as you opened your mouth to comment again, he shushed you and pointed to his ear. With a humph, you settled down into the cushions, leaning your head on your arm, supported all by the armrest of the couch, and stared ahead.

The music was beautiful. Haunting, almost, in a way. Through the first song, you listened together in the stillness, but the silence was broken in the second.

"You're frowning."

Blinking, you came back to, looking over at the large man next to you. "It's sad," you responded, somewhat confused.

Amusement briefly flashed across his face. "The music?"

"The story with the music."

"Oh? And what story do you hear?"

Taking a breath, you tilted your head just so as you continue to listen. "Someone is missing, but…not in the normal sense. Like…missing someone who hasn't been yet." You shook your head - that sounded stupid, even to you, but your boss hummed in acknowledgment.

Not right or wrong, which almost frustrated you more. Could there be a right answer to something like this?

"That particular piece is called Adagio for Strings, and it is known for conveying sadness, although I don't think I've ever heard someone mention a story with it before." The anger in his gaze from before seemed to have worn off with the sound of the violins, and his lip quirked upward with his statement.

Was he making fun of you? You huffed, crossing your arms and curling more into the couch.

"So you just sit here listening to sad music? On your own?"

A hum was the reply to your question, and you could hear him adjusting his position. "It's not always sad, no."

"Then why this one, today?" You turned to face Sylus, honesty present on your features.

He shrugged, "It just felt like a good pick."

"Sad music…was a good pick? Because you want to feel sad?"

His chuckle reached your ears. "No, not particularly, but this orchestral group is a favorite of mine, and I thought you might also enjoy it."

The moment felt a bit like whiplash, with how he was in the door frame earlier, but you were starting to suspect that this was one of the ways he soothed whatever fire appeared inside of him.

"Do you just sit and listen often?"

"Every night," he responded with a nod. "Not the same record, but something to help me relax."

The giggle inside you burst faster than you could stifle it with your hand, which only turned Sylus' face into one of confusion. "That's such a rich person thing to say," you finally managed to force out between the giggles.

He rolled his eyes at the retort, and then shushed you again as the next song played. You settled into your spot a little more, closing your eyes as the music drifted over you. For a moment, you felt ethereal - as if you were floating with the crescendos and diminuendos. The third song was a little more upbeat, a new story slipping into your mind as you listened.

You couldn't remember the last time you had sat so still for so long. Music had always been a background thing for you - one of a pulsing club or to block out your surroundings to focus. It was always something with a heavy beat, something you could easily ignore.

But this - this was different. Focusing on only the music seemed to ease you into a different mindset; a different space.

Damn Sylus for being right…again.

Well…sort of right. This was relaxing, but part of you still itched for your keyboard. Itched for something to do with your hands, and by the fifth song you were squirming. The sixth song held your attention for even less.

Your eyes glanced over to the man sitting at the opposite end of the couch, body relaxed and his face at ease. At peace, you realized quietly. He really did enjoy just sitting here doing nothing.

"It is good for the mind to sit quietly for a while," he drawled, ruby eyes turning to focus on you. "We're halfway through. You can make it."

With a huff, you crossed and uncrossed your legs. This. Was. Torture.

"It'll get easier the more you do it."

"The more I do it?"

He nodded, but an eyebrow quirked upward at the confusion on your face.

"You really don't seem to like to take care of yourself, kitten."

That had you scoffing, but you were cut off before you could retort.

"You're not the only one that can research things, you just tend to do it faster than the average person. And, as I'm quite sure you're aware, blue light from technology tends to make migraines worse. The longer you work, the more episodes you may have. And you don't seem keen on taking breaks when you've sunk your teeth into something."

"Newton's first law," you responded, not willing to concede just yet.

"Yes, well, Newton wasn't having work induced migraines, now was he?"

You clucked your tongue, curling away from him. With a sigh, Sylus gave in - just a little. "If music isn't for you, there's a whole library a couple doors down. I'm sure you can find something to read."

The thought rolled around in your mind. You weren't much of a reader, and you didn't know if you had ever read anything for a relaxing or fun purpose. And a proper story may hold your attention better than just sitting here did.

"What do you normally do between jobs?"

The question caught your slightly off guard, as you were thinking about what kind of books you might actually enjoy reading, and you let out a heavy sigh. What did you do normally?

"Sleep," was the first thing you thought of. "Watch something. Go for a ride." You thought for a little bit longer before nodding. Yup, that about summed it.

"Congratulations, you now have two more things to add to that list."

"Okay, and?"

"And you will be implementing at least one thing a day into your routine."

That got a bark of a laugh out of you. "I do your training - that should count for something."

The stare directed your way clearly told you it did not. "You have the choice of what you do, and, to make sure that you are taking proper time for yourself, I will join you on whatever activity you decide."

There was a heavy pause as the music swelled and filled the room. For a moment, your mouth hung open in confusion. "You really don't have to -"

"Oh, but I want to," he purred back, eyes narrowing in a way that reminded you how absolutely small you were. "You do no good to me broken."

And that is how you found yourself spending an hour or more a night with your boss.

For a while the hour felt like you were constantly trying to rub your skin down with sandpaper, and, then, like anything else rubbed with a rough surface long enough, it smoothed into something comfortable to the touch.

Joyrides were your favorite - they always had been, although you were not pleased that Sylus would rather have you ride with him than next to him on the road. Your routes varied greatly, and classical music played through your headset unwillingly (you were quite sure he was going to force you into submission with this one), but the longer you were exposed to it, the more you started to understand it.

He always drove the two of you somewhere outside of where you lived. Somewhere that you would eventually see the stars overhead clearly. Sylus could feel your helmet on his back shift when you reached those areas, looking up instead of ahead, and he would always slow down just a bit when the road opened into long, flat stretches.

You didn't realize he had caught you watching them so much on your previous excursion. And, while he was limited on bringing stars to where you lived, he could at least bring you to them.

When the weather was unsuitable for riding, you stayed in to listen to music or read - although it had taken some time to figure out what type of book suited you best. Sylus had encouraged you to stop reading if you didn't like something, but the idea of putting a book back unfinished made your skin itch.

Eventually though, you did - when one particular book caused you to dodge the library completely for a week. There was a freedom, an almost guilty pleasure that came with putting it back unfinished. Once that barrier had been crossed, you no longer struggled with it.

What you did not enjoy, however, was being left in the base alone. The first time it happened, you didn't think too much of it. Often, before the auction, you had been on your own as the three disappeared somewhere else. But now…

Sylus told you that he wanted to make sure you were more in control before you joined them again, and you, much like a child, held a grudge against him for it.

This type of care confused you - made you feel weak…well, weaker than you knew you were. Up until now your medical history and care was of no importance to those who used your services, so to have it affect your current job…

Reading became your escape on the lonely nights - pulled into a world of problems not fully unlike your own, and yet unique all the same. And for a little bit you were traveling with companions that were free from the restraints of this Evol and body, and you relished in it.

One particular rainy night, after realizing you had read the same page repeatedly without actually reading it, you found yourself frustrated.

Chunking the book to the side, you had a small pity party for yourself. This new…whatever this was - you hated it. You had gone from being independent and meticulous to missing working with other people. You had become too comfortable, too invested in the three men you now lived with.

You from just a few months ago would be horrified to see you laze about with a book, mad at not working on some sort of job (when was the last time you had taken a gig?) or fiddling around with a new Creation idea…

A new Creation…

Sitting up, your eyes fell on the desk in the room, the spare parts and tools you had brought with you set up neatly upon it - untouched since you had moved in.

There was a twitch in your hand that brought a smile to your face. That sounded like a much better project for you. Sure, you probably should make a few more of your little bugs to have on hand, Sylus and the twins now carried them out to jobs and not all of them came back, but when was the last time you made something new?

Something like, oh, a very annoying crow with ruby eyes?

Lips curled into a smile at the thought - surely you could make something even better.

Another month had slipped by, and you still found yourself frustrated with your lack of progress. Every turn was a dead end, and Caesar / Avery seemed to be buying up the most random things at auctions.

Deciding to take a deeper look in the procured items, you flexed your fingers over your keyboard, eyes raising as a new alert appeared on the monitor.

You blinked…and then blinked again. You had to be reading that wrong - there was no way.

Avery Maverick Found Dead In Home 02:46 AM. Investigation Open.

<initial police photos attached> <Audio call to emergency line attached>

Oh, hell. Your mind raced as you pulled your keyboard to you, shutting down the spoofing program and deleting it from Avery's system. Last thing you needed was for it to be tracked to you - to Sylus.

And then your feet were running.

You had no idea where Sylus was this time of day, but you prayed that, for once, he wasn't sleeping. Checking the cameras should've been your next step, but panic had taken over at the sight of the headlines on the message boards, and you hadn't even thought in a logical order since.

Office - you'd start with his office and then trace through his usual places and -

"Omph-"

"Hello to you, too, kitten."

Well - running straight into his chest worked, too, you guessed.

Large hands steadied your shoulders as you stood dazed for a moment, rubbing your nose. "What's wrong?"

Shaking your head to clear the momentary fog, you finally were able to focus on those crimson eyes, brows furrowed with concern. "Avery's dead."

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[thechaoticarchivist]

Chapter 4 Cross Posted to Ao3 || Ch 1 | Ch 2 Ch 3

Paring: Sylus x Hacker!Reader Rating: M (Subject to change) 18 + MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Story Content Warning: All the fun illegal things of a criminal mastermind, including: fights, hacking, stealing, ; Reader has a rough past that will be revealed with time (and proper warnings on those chapters) ; cussing ; slow burn ; boss / employee eventual relationship ; canon divergent ; **sex tape used for blackmail (minor OC characters in tape) tags and warnings subject to be updated Story Summary: The world within the N109 Zone has always been a tough one to navigate, but your only loyalty has always been yourself, and it's kept you alive this long. But when the leader of Onychinus wants you to work for him, well - he's not exactly used to the word no, is he? A/N: Huge shoutout to @humanitys-strongest-brat for always hyping me up while I write! I hope this has lived up to the first heist travel experience everyone was hoping for! Thank you for the love, comments, and support. I am so thankful you are enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it. I did add to the CWs for this chapter, as there is something that may bother people mentioned in it.

Two - three days at most. That's what had been explained to you. You'd travel, auction would be the next day, and then you travel back. Simple. Easy.

Except you had never done anything like this before, and there was a new anxiety that was creeping up in your chest, sitting heavy on your heart. The last thing you needed to do was fuck this up. You were the whole reason this was happening in the first place.

The backpack resting beside the chair had been repacked no less than three times at this point, and your hands were itching to do it a fourth time. Inside of it contained any tool you could think of needing.

Plan A - there's a laptop or computer or something you can get into. Pop in a Creation, break in, upload a spoofing program. Done. Easy. If Plan A didn't happen? Well - you had Plans B - F to fall back on, and the tools to match. The problem was all of them, to you, were shaky at best.

Right now, though, you were working the Onychinus system over with a fine tooth comb. With the house being empty, you expected no alerts from the security system. But just in case, you were setting up fail safes to at least keep people out of the network, and making sure you had alerts to your phone.

Squeezing your hands at your side, you assured yourself once more that everything would be fine. You've done this before - hell, breaking into a system was something you could do in your sleep. Literally.

An addition of a possible 30 minute to hour time crunch? Child's play.

At least…you hoped it would be.

Your right hand shook, and you squeezed it with your left out of habit to steady your nerves. There is absolutely no reason you should be this worked up. None.

"Are you ready to go? You'll be riding with me to the hotel."

Okay…one large, white haired nervous-about-impressing-him reason. And why should you be? He'd already hired you.

You turned toward the doorway." Oh…alright. Any reason?"

"The twins have been sent ahead to do some reconnaissance, and I figured it would be as good as time as any to get to know you a little better. As you've said previously, a year is a long time to remain strangers. And at this point a month has already slipped by."

Reaching for your backpack hid the look of surprise on your face. Based on your small interactions, you hadn't realized the the lack of more had been bothering him. It hadn't been bothering you….as much.

Sylus was your boss, and, sure, because of the nature of the job you technically lived together, but that was all. A technicality.

"What's with the backpack? I told you I would have anything you needed there."

You missed the look that fell over his face as you reached for your glasses next, putting them on."Well, yeah, but these are my tools I'm used to. If I'm to be quick, you don't want me trying to learn new equipment on top of it all."

The face you saw when you turned back around was impassive at best. There was a question on the tip of his tongue, you could almost see him struggle with it. But then he swallowed, nodding his head in the direction of the hallway and you were quick to follow.

Your stride was a fairly comfortable pace, and you felt your cheeks heat with the realization that he was walking slowly to let you keep up.

The walk down to the garage was fairly silent, and Sylus led you to sleek black town car near the front. As the two of you loaded into it, a question slipped out from your lips that you thought was inside your head, until a chuckle reached your ears.

"Do you drive all of them?"

"I pick out whichever one best fits the situation."

You were out of the area and on the road in a matter of minutes, the car purring quietly despite the speed you knew the two of you were traveling at.

The inside of the car was nice - and, at no surprise to you, - black leather. Although the state of cleanliness it was at still had you questioning how often it was taken out. When it had rumbled to life originally, the radio started up and classical music drifted through the speakers, setting a fairly cozy atmosphere as the two of you drove through the dark.

The auction was a few cities over, a three hour drive by your research, and so you settled into your seat, peering out the window as the sky switched from its ever-night state to one of stars as the N109 Zone was left behind.

For a while, the uncomfortable silence eased into something more pleasant, and you found yourself resting your arm on the window, head in your hand.

Sylus' previous comment about traveling together echoed in your mind, and your mouth turned into a frown, unsure on how, exactly, to start a conversation that was not related to work. Luckily for you - it seemed he had a similar idea.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

"I've seen your bank statements - pretty sure I should charge you more."

You weren't expecting him to laugh at the comment. It was a surprisingly pleasant sound. "You can bill me whatever you think is fair then. What's on your mind, sweetie?"

With a shrug, you continued to watch the blur of the world outside your window. "I don't ride in cars much. This is…kinda nice."

Sylus' mouth dipped downward. "Do you only own the motorcycle?"

"Yeah."

The frown deepened. "What do you do when the weather's bad?"

A snort. "I don't go out."

"But if you have to?"

You gave him a look from the corner of your eye. "I cancel the plans. I don't go out."

He was quiet for a long moment. When Sylus responded again, there was a lilt to his voice. "You aren't one that I would peg to be afraid of a little rain."

It was meant as a tease, but you couldn't help the pain that came with the jab. It wasn't his fault, really. He barely knew you. Turning your head, you focused your attention away from him. "It's not the rain - it's the lightning."

That…wasn't the answer that Sylus was expecting. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "I would think that's when you would be at your most powerful."

"I was taught early on it was too dangerous - to fear it. And any time I've tried to overcome that fear, I lose control." and someone dies "So, no, I don't go out." You clenched your hand into a fist, trying to think of how to change the subject. Your weakness wasn't something that you were ready to just have in the open.

But Sylus caught onto a different word while you were talking. "You were…taught it was dangerous?"

Shit. ShitShitShitShit - "Yes?"

"And the people that taught you to fear your power - what else did they teach you?"

"To hack."

Again, his fingers drummed on the steering wheel. His mouth cut a deep frown across his face. "They turned you into a tool for them."

"Yeah, well," you let out a sigh. "Everyone in the Zone has a sob story. And it's turned into your gain, so…"

He was silent at that response, but you could feel the tension rising once more the car. To break it before it became suffocating, you reached for your phone, immediately typing on it.

"What are you looking up?"

"Questions to ask people when you don't know them."

There was that laugh again - although it was more strained than before. "I didn't realize you needed to research that type of thing."

"I work with technology, not people. I don't do the socializing part of things well."

"Noted. So, what questions have you found?"

You hummed, thumb swiping up on the screen. "Well, some of these I know - some I'm not going to ask you because you're my boss and it would be weird -"

"Oh? And what do you already know about me after just a month?"

"Your favorite color is red. Your favorite fruit is oranges -"

"How do you know that?"

You looked at him over the frame of your glasses. "Have…have you seen your wardrobe? Or the disproportionate amount of oranges to apples ratio in the fruit bowl?"

"My wardrobe isn't that bad -"

"I didn't say it was bad. I said that's how I know your favorite color is red."

There was a huff, but his frown was gone - replaced by something that wasn't quite a smile. "Ask a question."

With a sigh and a little more scrolling, you found one that felt safe. "Coffee or tea?"

"Either or - as long as it's black."

You raised an eyebrow. He raised one back at you. "You know what? That checks out," you decided, looking for another question. Your hunt was paused by his voice.

"I didn't hear your answer, kitten."

"My…oh. Uh - neither." You went to scroll again, but once more you were interrupted. Right - that's how this would work, isn't it? This isn't an interview.

"Then what drink do you prefer?"

"Energy drinks, if I can get my hands on them."

There was a low chuckle. "That fits you. And cannot be good for your sleep schedule."

"So is not having sunlight, but we make do."

The smirk had appeared again, the tension slowly slipping away with it. "That we do."

You hummed, scrolling past a multitude of questions that felt…uncomfortable to ask, even if Sylus and you weren't on the way to a job. "Um…a skill you wish you had."

He let out a heavy sigh. "Singing. I have been told by acquaintances that I…have a great amount of room for improvement."

That got a smile out of you, and Sylus could just see it out of the corner of his eye. "Ouch. That bad?"

"Would you like to find out?" There was a tease in his voice, but you quickly shot him down.

"Not at the moment - thanks." You tapped your chin in thought. "I think…mine would be cooking."

"Cooking?"

"Yes. I've never really…learned how."

"Whoever you were with before seemed to not have taught you a great many things."

You clamped up at the comment, going back to scrolling. So Sylus tried again.

"You could always ask the chefs to teach you, if you want."

Biting your lip, you kept your eyes on your phone. "I don't want to bother them."

"I very much doubt you would. But, it is an option, if you would ever like to learn."

The car fell back into silence as you looked for another question. How were you supposed to respond to something like that? The answer was, you couldn't. So you would just change the subject. "Um…if you weren't a mob boss, what would you choose to be?"

Another sigh - this was taking an unpleasant turn, you feared - building more tension instead of releasing it like you were hoping. "A fruit vendor."

Now you were flat out glaring at him.

"What?"

"So…we're not being serious anymore?"

"I am being serious."

"You just going to sell a variety of oranges in a place with no sun?"

"Now who's not being serious?" but there was a glint of mirth in his eyes that caught in the passing lights when he looked over at you. "And who says I would stay in the N109 Zone?"

"Oh? Where would you go instead - the beach?"

"The beach?"

"Yeah…you know. For the oranges?" You were grinning - the funniest image in your head appearing. "Pretty sure you'd send all your money on sunscreen so you didn't burn, though."

"Oh…you have this all mapped out now? I thought this was what I wanted to do."

"It is - I'm just trying to help you plan it."

That earned you a deep laugh, and you were thankful for the dark to hide the heat creeping up your neck. You hated how much you seemed to blush now. But the question had burned away the tension in the car - and for that you were thankful.

"And where would you live if you weren't tied to the Zone?"

"Dunno," you replied, leaning back into your seat, your gaze falling once more to the window. "Haven't seen enough of the world to tell you."

A hum was his reply, before the music filled the quiet space between you. You were thankful he hadn't asked you to answer the career question - all you knew was hacking. Trying to imagine being anything else felt like trying to force something into the wrong slot. This is what you were made to do. Why bother imagining anything else?

But…you would give him something, for putting up with your game of twenty questions.

"Green." You said, not looking at him - missing the crimson eyes shooting a glance your way. "My favorite color is green. Not like…normal green. The deep ones from leaves you only see when the sun fades to night in the summer. The one that's warm and alive."

That's how the rest of the three hours continued - a comfortable silence peppered with random questions or facts - a wall that you had built along the way, unknowingly, being dismantled brick by brick.

Slowly, your domineering white haired boss was becoming more human. But that only created a new problem - where was the new boundary, then? How far would you be willing to let him know you before it became too much? Before he rejected you for what he learned?

Right now, he was on par with others you had gotten to know over your years working here…and maybe he knew just a little more than them, but that argument with yourself was pushed to the back of your mind as the two of you entered the city limits.

Your nerves seemed to take hold of you again, and you squeezed your right hand out of habit.

"Nervous?"

You debated how to answer the question - willingly vulnerable or attempt to cover with a terrible lie. With a huff, you tucked your arms around yourself and admitted the truth. "Yeah…a little."

"Relax, you can handle it. I wouldn't have hired you if I thought you couldn't."

"I don't think you could've predicted me doing this type of work, though," giving a vague gesture at the windshield.

Sylus shrugged beside you, but the way the corner of his lip turned up told you that, he had, in fact, hired you with this type of thing in mind. You hadn't thought the job was going to include a travel heist style hacking.

"I have every faith that you will get what we need. It is your plan, after all."

Yeah, that's why I'm worried. But instead of answering, you just let out a huff, focusing your attention on the store signs that decorated the street the two of you were currently driving up.

Sylus drove the car into a parking garage, up toward a reserved area, and then led the two of you inward to the hotel. The top floors required a key card to ride up to, and the doors opened straight into the suite.

As the two of you stepped out into the living area, he spoke first."What are you thinking?"

"That this security was set up better than the place you live," you grumbled, taking in the suite. The furniture, much like the base, was all dark colors, but decor sprinkled pops of color throughout the open area from what you could currently see. "Your cameras have some blind spots, though."

A low chuckle reached your ears. "Oh?"

"There's a couple places right on the ground level near the lobby, a spot on every floor near the stairwells, and the roof."

There was a brief look of shock across your boss' face that you missed as you explored after dropping your backpack on the couch. Gods above, this place was bigger than the average apartment - definitely bigger than yours. Multiple halls split away from the den, and you headed down the first one closest to you.

You peered into each doorway - most being bedrooms, but some being more decorated spaces - a small theater, a music room.... "You own this hotel - you shouldn't be surprised I was able to already access everything," you called back.

Your exploration led you eventually to a dining nook with the large bay window overlooking the city. Scanning the street below, your gaze moved upward, mouth falling into a slight frown when you realized the artificial lights seemed to hide the stars in the sky. That was unfortunate.

"No, I shouldn't be," Sylus agreed, walking up behind you. Leaning down to be closer to your height, a large hand stretched in front of you, pointing at a high end restaurant across the street. "That's where the auction is being held tomorrow. There's a private room in the back."

You hummed in acknowledgment. "And Avery checked in not too long ago in the suite right underneath this one."

Sylus leaned back, one hand patting your head as he made his way around you and to the kitchenette. "Like I said - you can handle this. Pick whichever room you would like to use. You might as well get some sleep."

You did - one that unfortunately, you learned the next morning, had a window that faced the eastern horizon. Waking up to the sun wasn't harsh, but it was different. After years of waking to pitch black, being able to see a swirl of colors first thing was a bit starling, but pleasant. Soft, in a way.

For a moment, false memories swirled in your mind; ones of a normal girl on a normal vacation in a normal city.

Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to indulge in them for one whole minute before squashing them away and forcing yourself out of bed. A good shower was needed first, and then you could begin to prep for tonight.

Sylus pulled on his red suit jacket as he faced the three other people under his employment. One of the twins was showing you something on the earpiece you were now attaching to your head, and you nodded along with what was being explained.

When he had all of your attention he spoke. "Depending where the item falls in the auction, you may have a window of thirty minutes to two hours. Do not contact me unless it is absolutely necessary."

After various forms of agreements, he turned and left through the elevator, and the twins slipped out through the side door that lead to the stairwell - the same one you would follow through in just a few minutes.

Before you left, you snagged black baseball cap you found among a plethora of others in a closet. You may be able to hide yourself from cameras easy enough, but people were the larger concern. No one should be in the stairwell, but one could never be too careful. Between the hat and your glasses, however, your face would be blocked enough that if you did run into someone, you wouldn't be memorable.

You waited fifteen minutes before heading down yourself - giving ample time to make sure Avery's suite was empty before you slipped down the stairs and entered the room. Key card readers posed no threat to you, and after a moment and a light touch, the door unlocked.

Now came the harder part - finding something to plug into.

You carried your tools on your person, hidden under your hoodie, the weight of them not enough to slow you too much, but still causing you to be careful with your movements.

You almost let out a sigh of relief when, on the third bedroom of exploration, you found a laptop closed on a desk. Thank fuck - plan A would work.

Carefully lifting the lid with one hand, you pulled out your Creation with the other, letting it quickly crawl across the desk as you blocked the webcam with one finger. Ever suspicious, once you were in, you quickly checked over the security features. While this device had been easy enough to get into, sometimes people had fun, hidden things built in - like having their webcam snap photos or record whenever the lid was lifted.

Low and behold, you found a program just like that hidden deep within it. That's fine - you would just convince the computer to record a previous session. It only took a few seconds to find the vault of videos, and you chose a 32 minute one to play before removing your finger from the screen, making sure the bill of your hat still remained low over your face.

You shouldn't need all 32 minutes, but this way you didn't have to worry about creating a loop if things took longer than you were expecting. When the video opened, it took you a moment too long to process what you were seeing on the screen - an older gentleman, naked, tied spread eagle to the bed behind you. And then the back of someone much thinner, clad in leather, appeared on the left.

Minimizing the window, you got to work on the spoofing program - slipping it into the depths of the coding with ease. Now, it was just a waiting game as things began to upload to your cloud system.

…28%…

Your mind drifted back to the video. Everyone had their thing, but most who had setup their webcam to be security weren't dumb enough to do anything in front of an open laptop. That was a quick way to guarantee blackmail on yourself.

…53%…

You would need to make sure that video was flagged. The man in the video had to be Avery, although from the angle it was hard to tell - what was viewable on screen was not something you were going to be checking matched in person.

What an idiot - weren't criminals supposed to be smarter?

…71%…

…unless…unless they didn't know that their laptop was recording. Which meant…

Which meant someone else had already gotten in.

Fingers flew deftly across the keys, your eye near igniting in how you forced yourself into the system. Oh, this was brilliant. All hackers had a signature - all you needed to do was find theirs and trace backwards. Maybe Caesar was more clever than you had been giving him credit for.

If it was Caesar.

Spoofing completed, you focused the computer into coding of the security software and … there! No bigger than a period, a small fox head. You sent an image of the code to your server, ready to start combing through every line for any other giveaway when a crackle came through your earpiece.

"Uh…This might be a problem."

"Use your words, Luke. What is a problem?" You hissed in response.

"I thought the Association was paid off to stay away from this event."

For a sharp second, everything froze except the beating of your heart. Oh. ohohohoh shit.

"Where?" you snapped back, sending through the last program in your Creation to wipe all traces of you being there, and the blackmail video. If foxface hadn't grabbed it by now, it would be yours exclusively.

"There's a car that just parked out front…uh…they're getting out of it."

A stream of profanity slid from your mouth as you pulled your Creation free, slammed the laptop closed, and ran toward the stairs.

"Maybe they just ordered a meal to go," one of the twins said, and your found yourself glaring down the steps.

"Don't be stupid!" the other replied. "They shut down the restaurant for this."

"Five minutes," you panted, lungs burning. "Get me five minutes, and I'll get them out of here."

"What are you going to do?"

"What I do best."

You sent the message to your boss as well, only to have a response a moment later.

Three.

Every muscle throbbed as you continued your decent, using your ability to respond. Short legs - get me five. Maybe you should've taken Sylus up on training after all.

The sound of weaponry being loaded overpowered the sound from the video feed of the front lobby. Sylus had no idea what you were planning, but five minutes was a long time to hold a small squadron of arms dealers, many of them trained military, at bay.

But luckily for him, most seemed to be watching one particular man for a response on what to do next, and that particular man was one he had been trying to get closer to all evening. In a drawl, as he strode up next to Avery, the Onychinus leader said, "There's only two of them - surely there's no need for a fire fight."

"We don't know if it will remain the two of them, Mr. Sylus."

With a dark chuckle and a shake of his head, he pointed to the maitres d' currently holding the two Hunters at bay. "If more were coming, they would already be here. Did you not pay off the normal patrols of this area?"

"I did," the older gentleman hissed, sending a glare to the white haired man.

"Then all I ask is for a little patience. You aren't the only one with tricks up their sleeves."

Avery's left eye twitched. Sylus held his gaze. Looking bored, he checked his phone, noting the time of your text. "I just need two minutes of your time."

Thank whoever above that nothing was coming down the wide street you were now sprinting full speed across. Eyes on the white SUV, your hand reached out to grab the cooling hood. You stopped, only for a moment, taking three deep breaths, and then with the fourth, slipped into the computer dash's programming.

Once in the GPS, you looked for the farthest place programmed in the memory. The…Association's headquarters? You smirked, and then ran in, car roaring to life behind you and heading haphazardly down the road to it's destination. You tried your best to drive in a fairly straight line using the dash cam, but it was hard with how physically exhausted you were, and there was still more you needed to do.

Yanking the door wide, you pulled out every trick Dash had taught you, leaning into your pants as you walked up to the Hunters. "Oh - good! You're here. Listen - my friends and I have a question about your ride -"

"Not now, kid," the younger of the two said, blocking you from reaching his partner who was very frustrated with her lack of progress.

Your eye twitched with the jab, but hidden with the glasses and hat, the man saw nothing. You pushed. "Look, it's just a quick question -"

"I said not now -"

"I mean, okay, but it's your SUV driving down the road, and I thought it was rude of a self-driving car to just leave you here."

Both of the Hunters turned to face you now. The woman was the first to speak, and you kept your gaze forward, pushing your glasses up your nose. "We don't have self-driving cars."

You feigned surprise, jutting a thumb toward the door. "Well, that SUV did not have a driver in it -"

They were pushing past you now, out the door and staring helplessly down the road. And then they started to run.

Heavy with exhaustion, you slipped behind the mairtes d's wide podium, closing both eyes to fully focus on the car. You were much farther than a block away, and you could feel your hold slipping. You needed to find a safe place to crash it.

There was a whirlwind of footsteps as a mass exodus took place in a variety of directions around you, but a pair walked calmly to your position.

The velvet, amused voice of your boss reached your ears. "Toy car?"

"Biiiiiig toy car," you responded before a 'thank fuck' slipped out as your found a large pole without pedestrians around it to crash the SUV into. With the task complete, you slumped against the wood, peering upwards. "Get what you needed?"

"More or less," was his response. "Go back to the suite - you can tell me more about what you found later. I have other business to attend to first." And with that, Sylus disappeared into the crowd as you fully steadied your breathing.

Once the lobby was cleared, the mairtes d' helped you to your feet, and you were slipping back quietly across the street, cheers filling your earpiece.

"That was so cool! -"

"Who knew you could just hijack a car from the outside -"

"They're still running, too -"

"Enough." you grumbled, slipping quietly through the front sliding doors of the hotel and toward the elevator. Your lungs burned, and your legs throbbed.

"Checking out some things before we head back -"

"But I feel that performance earned you the chocolate cake slice in the fridge."

You barked out a laugh as the doors slid shut, reaching forward to slide your fingers up the control panel, overriding the system with Sylus' key card information. "Thanks, guys. I'll take you up on that."

The clock in the living room chimed as another early morning hour passed - the only sound outside of tapping keys. Sylus wasn’t used to people being awake when he was, so finding you curled on the couch glaring at your laptop was a surprise. One finger tapped your chin in a monotonous pattern, the faintest blue veins under your eye were highlighted by the blue light from the screen. On the coffee table in front of you, next to your laptop stood not one, but two energy drink cans. The large man sat beside you on the couch, leg crossed at the knee and one arm stretched along the length of the back. He could, if he wanted, tap your shoulder with his fingertips.“Enjoying your spoils already, Miss Hacker?” “No.” His eyes widened just so at the answer. “No?” You sighed, waving your hand at the device, and the screen changed as you talked. “I got three things - blackmail, access, which everything is being spoofed and ran through a program to sort - it’ll take some time to find anything of value, and then this fucker.” The image of the fox head filled the screen. “What is it?” “A hacker signature. Problem is, I dunno it, and it's not on the Page. I'm reaching out to people now to see if they recognize it, but so far no dice. ” “The Page?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah - the Page. It's like a hacker's certification in the Zone. First thing you do to establish you're worth paying attention to is dive into the public security system, find the Page, and sign it. If you're lucky, someone will check after you've done so, preferably an established Hacker, who's willing to drop jobs in your lap they feel are beneath them."

"And this Page…has a list of every Hacker signature in the N109 Zone."

A nod. "All of them - dead or alive. But foxface here isn't. Which is giving me a bad feeling."

"Oh? And why is that?" You turned to look at him, holding his gaze. “Could be they're new, and didn't know about how things work, and somehow managed to get the job. Not likely. Could be someone brought them in from outside for this one particular job. Which means,”you sucked air through your teeth, "someone outside is trying to make their way into the N109 Zone."

Sylus watched your face lit by the blue light - the way you sat, arms and legs both crossed, an angry glare now back at the screen. Your glasses were gone, most likely in the room you chose, and the tapping of your fingers gave away that you were more nervous than your voice showed.

But his eyes narrowed on the cheek closest to him, the veins slowly darkening under his gaze. He didn't think, reaching out to touch them, only realizing what he had done as you jerked away from him.

"You need sleep," he said, his voice slipping back to a gentle tone you had heard only twice before at this point. What you didn't know is that Sylus had ordered the twins to keep an eye on you in only one regard - to keep track of when and how often your veins under your eye darkened.

And based on the information he had been given, it had happened eight times this last month, and all of them when you had gone long stretches of working, and they cleared after you allowed yourself to sleep for longer than a four or five hour stretch.

But your response wasn't one that he was expecting. You raised your eyebrow in defiance, turning that bright eye on him. "I'm fine."

Stubborn versus stubborn was a recipe for disaster, and Sylus found himself crossing his arms as he glared at you. "You know that the lie is evident on your face."

Quickly rubbing your cheek, as if that would change what was there, you refocused on the laptop, pulling it into your lap. "I probably just pushed a little too hard today. It's fine."

A large hand closed your laptop, and an order was given close to your ear. "Sleep."

You were very thankful closing the laptop plunged the room into darkness to hide the heat rising around your neck. The hairs standing on end. Your pulse jumping in speed.

He was so, so close to you.

The laptop was pulled free of your grasp, and the rustling of clothes told you he was moving it back to the table.

"Whatever you're looking for will be there after you get a few hours of sleep."

"You don't know that."

"I know that if you can't find it currently, after hours of digging, then it may take a few hours more, or it'll take days. Either way, you won't be able to work at your best when you're exhausted. You have to sleep at some point."

It was annoying - the fact that this man would shift into this caring stance over your health so easily, like he knew you as well as you knew yourself. And you knew the reason behind your anger wasn't so much that he cared, but the fact that after only a month of short conversations, he could read you better than people who had known you for years.

With a huff, you stood, and headed back to your temporary room. There was no point in arguing with him when he wasn't exactly wrong, but the whole thing still left a sour taste in your mouth.

Despite the amount of caffeine flooding your bloodstream, you fell asleep quickly - exhaustion pulling you under into a dreamless few hours of rest. You woke up feeling only slightly groggy, but much more focused than before. It angered you for a moment, but then, after a breath, you let it go.

There wasn't a point.

You were the first to be awake, which was of no surprise to you, so you ordered food from the chef, made a place for yourself at the breakfast bar at the kitchenette, and ate as you worked.

After checking messages that only confirmed that no one recognized the hacker signature, you started to comb through the information flagged by your algorithm. Anything you deemed actually important, you forwarded to a encoded drop box that you had set up specifically for your boss that he could access from every device.

You were not about to keep USBs around for this man.

So far, outside of the blackmail, there wasn't anything that you could see as really noteworthy. Or, at least, for you, the puzzle pieces weren't fitting together just yet. It was harder for you to do what you did on this limited one screen laptop, but in a few more hours, you'd properly dig back in.

"How'd you sleep?" Sylus asked, startling you slightly from whatever you were reading.

You huffed. "Fine."

He walked farther into the space, reaching for a mug to pour himself something to drink and using the position to check your face. All clear - good. "Find anything new this morning?"

"I'm looking at what the algorithm snagged, and I'm forwarding anything to you that looks important." Your eyes remained on the screen in front of you.

There was a hum of acknowledgment as the large man leaned back on the counter, sipping his coffee and studying you. For a few minutes, the two of you existed in silence. And then Sylus spoke again. "I want to leave in an hour. Will you be done by then?"

"Oh, yeah," you replied nodding your head. "Sooner, probably."

"Good." And then he was walking away.

The ride back to the base was less stiff than the first drive, but just as quiet. When Sylus decided he had had enough, he opened his mouth to tease you about starting up your silly questions again. The words caught in his throat when he stole a glace over at you, a light 'heh' escaping instead.

You had fallen asleep against the window, head pillowed by your folded arm.

Sylus would endure the silence if that meant you got some proper rest.

Nothing was amiss in the system when you gave it a thorough look through upon return, which mean that it was time to dive deeper into the mystery that was Avery, the fox face hacker, and how Caesar fit into all of this.

But first…first a shower was in order. A long, wonderfully hot one that eased tension from your muscles after the escapade you had just finished.

As you often did, you found yourself reviewing each and every aspect, wondering what you could do better next time…if there was a next time. Your mind kept replaying odd bits in a mismatched order - random parts sticking in your mind like velcro on cloth.

The simplicity of the hack itself.

The black mail.

Sylus' laugh.

The fox face.

The lack of information on fox face.

Sylus bending lower and closer to you to point out the restaurant.

That chocolate cake was delicious though - well earned after your sprint. That horrid, never ending sprint.

How far did you actually manage to get the SUV? It would probably be on the news sites somewhere. You should find out. Sylus might want to - stop.

Stop. Stop.

He was your boss…not your friend. Not whatever your brain was trying to tell you.

But…being your boss he might actually want an answer to the SUV question.

You rinsed, turning off the shower and beginning to dry yourself off. And then you caught a glance of yourself in the large mirror. You studied yourself, turning this way and that, the memory of the stairs appearing once more, causing a scowl to fall across your face.

Most of your life, you haven't cared about your appearance - basic maintenance was enough, and being short meant that you could get in and out of places fairly undetected. You'd fought before out of necessity to get away from people, but fitness wasn't exactly on your priority list.

But this last heist made you realize something - if you wanted to keep up, you were going to have to get stronger.

The absolute last thing you liked to do was admit you were wrong about something. The second to last thing was that you needed help, and your trek down to Sylus' office felt like doing both.

The door was open when you arrived, but Sylus was turned away from you, reading something. He liked to handle most things on paper when it came to contracts. You wondered why.

"Are you going to stand there like a statue, or come inside?"

You jumped, unaware that he had actually seen you. (How had he… it didn't matter.) Stepping up to the desk, you stood behind the chair facing him, resting your fidgety hands on the back of it. "I, um, was wondering something."

A crimson eye slid over, taking in your form. "Oh?"

Taking a breath, you stretched your fingers out to still them. "Is…that invitation still open? To teach me?"

"To box?"

You nodded once. Your eyes were downcast, so you missed the subtle smirk pulling at his mouth as he fully turned toward you.

"Only if you tell me what changed your mind."

If looks could kill, the chair's upholstery would be in flames from your glare. "A sprint that felt like a marathon," you huffed out.

When you looked up, one of Sylus' large hands was blocking his mouth, but you could see the glint in his eyes. He found this funny, which you quickly confirmed by the low chuckle that reached your ears. "We'll start next week."

"Okay," you said, letting out a breath you had been holding. You were quite sure he was actually going to turn you down. Turning to leave, you heard a verbal jab.

"Couple flights of stairs winded you that much?"

"It was thirteen flights, thank you," you snapped back stepping through the doorway, but his laughter was full bellied now, and it warmed your ears when it reached you as you headed down the hallway.

Tag List: @lemonmoonmochi , @withering-dream , @humanitys-strongest-brat , @blue-serendipity , @stxrrielle , @lemonmoonmochi , @burningvoidsoul , @pirana10 , @miakxn , @lalaluch , @crimsonmarabou , @gingers-random-junk , @kitsunetori, @jellyfishstarx, @phisen, @codedove, @sixpennydame

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please let me know!

Created by @thechaoticarchivist . Do not repost. Comments and Reblogs are always welcome!

[thechaoticarchivist]

Chapter 1 Cross Posted to Ao3

Paring: Sylus x Hacker!Reader Rating: M (Subject to change) 18 + MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Story Content Warning: All the fun illegal things of a criminal mastermind, including: fights, hacking, stealing, ; Reader has a rough past that will be revealed with time (and proper warnings on those chapters) ; cussing ; slow burn ; boss / employee eventual relationship ; canon divergent ; tags and warnings subject to be updated Story Summary: The world within the N109 Zone has always been a tough one to navigate, but your only loyalty has always been yourself, and it's kept you alive this long. But when the leader of Onychinus wants you to work for him, well - he's not exactly used to the word no, is he? A/N: Thank you everyone who showed interest in this piece! (and for @humanitys-strongest-brat and @amywritesthings for indulging me sharing things to make sure I had the voice right!) Please note that I am purposefully being sketchy about what I reveal about Reader during this. It all will be explained, I promise.

Nothing in this life came free - you knew that.

You grew up in a place that beat that life lesson into you the moment you were born, not that you knew those that gave you this unfortunate existence.

At the end of the day, though, you were alive, and you would be damned if anyone tried to rid you of it.

You, like most people in the N109 Zone, created your own type of job that was very necessary to the right people. This also meant that it was incredibly dangerous at times, too, if you weren't careful.

But between your Evol and your life lessons, you managed to ride that fine line incredibly well.

You had no true loyalty, although you probably should for safety reasons, but your job was to provide information to the highest bidder. And if the highest bidder was the enemy of their enemy, well - that was no sweat off your back.

You kept your head low, squirreled away in an abandoned building with you and your technology, and you wouldn't have it any other way. You had quite enough to deal with, and living with people was a quick way to have a weakness or have your neck slashed.

No, technology being your only companion was the correct way to go.

So when, inevitably, the boss of Onychinus sent those two bird brained twins out to find you, you were not surprised. If anything, you were more surprised he had never reached out to you before. (Although there were many rumors that the man knew enough to hack into what he needed.)

The twins met you in a graveyard, an ominous choice out of the many places most of your meet ups happen. Still, one can't be too careful.

The night air was cold enough that appearing in a bulky hooded sweatshirt and dark pants wouldn't be concerning to anyone. No one would suspect the knives hidden on your body you kept just in case. As you approached the twins, who watched you with odd bird masks, you adjusted the glasses on your face. On the lens before you a scan appeared, showing no working technology on their persons outside of a phone.

Typical, and good for you.

When you approached them, one reached out to shake your hand, and the other crossed his arms. A paper was handed to you.

"This is the task boss sent us to give you. Once you complete it, come to the address."

You quirked an eyebrow at the one in front of you. "That's not how this works."

"It is with him," the other twin piped up. "Besides - we need to make sure you're the real deal before you get the actual job."

Ah, you thought to yourself. One of those.

You handed the paper back. "I don't do games. Either I have the job, or I don't. "

"You misunderstand..or maybe we didn't explain clearly…" the first one said, scratching the back of his head. "This job," he shoved the paper at you again, "You got. You will be paid. But it's also a little test to see if you can do a second job."

"A test," you said, eyes skimming over the instructions. "Even so - there's no need for me to appear anywhere. I send the encrypted files and money goes into my account."

"Boss would like to meet you," the second twin said.

"Then he should've come himself," you shrugged, folding and tucking the paper away in a pocket. "He'll get the information the way I normally send it." And with that you turned on your heel and left.

Once you arrived back at your home, it was as simple as pulling the information you already had filed away for the Onychinus leader, with a few additions that required a little more digging. The problem came at the end - this man had no safe way for you to send these files.

None.

Hell - he was on social media, but an encrypted digital storage? None that you could find. You were, you realized with bile in your throat, going to have to show up at this damned address in the morning. With a huff, you went about digging for a USB you could load and encrypt.

What a fucking joke.

___

The mansion was huge.

You had pulled up with a few minutes to spare, thankful you thought ahead to giving yourself a solid ten minute buffer with traffic. Even on your bike, it was a sluggish moving day down the roads.

You parked in the driveway, pulling off your helmet, and keeping your eyes shut as you put your glasses on your face. When you opened them again, the glass reflected just how many security features there were around this place.

Well, it would make sense, right? He was most wanted man in this galaxy. Your hand twitched in excitement. Now this, this would be a challenge to break into.

You leaned against your bike as you waited, clocking in the cameras, the additional motion detectors, and the surprising lack of guards. You had never personally met Sylus, but you had heard the stories. You wondered if the twins fell more into the henchmen category for someone like him.

Speaking of, the front door opened wide, and one of two familiar bird masks peaked out and beckoned you inside. You hesitated, just for a moment, fear finally catching up with what you were doing. You didn't meet clients for a reason with a delivery - there were too many that were happy to keep secrets with those six feet under, and you didn't meet that criteria just yet.

With a breath, your hands in your leather jacket, you headed toward the door. One hand squeezed the USB, as if it would protect you from what was coming.

The interior was dark, but surprisingly warm and well furnished. You had expected more…well, you weren't exactly sure, but a place that looked like a lived in home wasn't exactly it.

You were brought into the living room, or what you assumed was the equivalent of one, but denied the twins attempt to sit on the plush couch. Easier to run if you're already standing. Although based on what you heard, if you pissed off this man, running wouldn't help, either.

The deep baritone that rang out behind you made you near jump out of your skin. "Ah, the infamous Ms. Infocrat. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

It took everything you had not to instinctively back away from the white haired man as he walked past you. The first thought you had was, 'God, he's tall,' and the second was a deep instinctual fear to run - like that of a rabbit staring down a wolf. You felt yourself blinking the thoughts away rapidly. The last thing you needed was for him to sense any weakness.

He was smirking down at you, hand held open. You pulled your own free from your pocket, and dropped the USB in his large palm. When he pulled it back toward him, one of the twins was handing him a laptop, and swirl of information formed on your glasses.

"You're just going to plug a stranger's USB into a laptop on the same network as your system? I thought people said you were smart."

There was a chuckle of amusement from deep in his throat. "Should I be worried about accessing the information I have paid you for?"

"In theory, no."

That caught his attention, and it was then you felt the full force of his crimson gaze on you. "In theory…"

His right eye seemed…off. Different. And you felt your left one twitch in response. Instinctively, you reached up and rubbed it. Silently, you prayed that this wasn't a sign that one of your migraines was coming on. It was a long way home to your meds.

"You don't worry about people hacking into your system?"

"Not with the code I've created, no." He turned his attention back to his laptop. Well, that was one rumor confirmed, at least. With his gaze off you, the pressure in your head relaxed some. He was quick on decrypting the files, long fingers moving almost fluidly over the keys. It was odd watching someone go through your work in front of you.

You hated it.

After waiting another beat of awkward silence, you turned to go, which, luckily for you, masked the grimace on your face at the sudden flood of information in your head.

Because you had slipped in your own Trojan horse to that USB.

The information on Onychinus was insanely hard to get a hold of - many times it took weeks of digging to even get the most basic amount, so of course you were going to take advantage of this moment. As long as he didn't find it, you were fully in the system now. A system that would pay your way to retirement with one job.

The information flooding you was fast - too fast, as if you had cracked open a dam. You instinctively moved to rub your left eye again, the pressure returning for a much different reason. But, as quickly as it was flooding your mind, it stopped again, and all you could see was a black crow.

The word, phrased like a question, was out of your mouth before you realized. You were too used to doing things alone - away from people.

"Sneaky, Miss Infocrat," that deep voice drawled behind you. You stifled a scream, though, when he appeared in front of you again, hands in his pockets as he looked down at you, unnervingly calm. "I've had many try and break into my system, but you are the first to succeed." The way he grinned at you made your skin crawl.

You were dead.

This was it.

"I would like to hire you," Sylus said, straitening and rubbing the tips of his fingers together on one of his hands. "But not for more information."

Your mouth was dry - this is not where you saw the conversation going. "I, um -" what could you even say to that type of offer? Your brain screamed at you to say no, to run full force out the door to your bike. But there was one very large man-shaped problem that stood between you and the exit.

"Although, I'm sure I would have you looking into things in the future if you were to work for me." He flashed you a smirk, then, which caught you off guard.

You took a breath to steady yourself. How could you get to the door from here? "What would the job be?"

"Security."

With a raised eyebrow you look back at the twins, who seem a bit too interested in the laptop screen, and then back to Sylus. "Security for what, exactly?"

He grinned, but something about it only increased your anxiety about getting out. "For Onychinus, obviously. You would work alone, although I don't think that would bother you too much. I do prefer those in my employ close by, though, so you would have to move in."

The headache that had started earlier was getting a firmer grasp. "I didn't even agree yet."

"People don't really tell me no, sweetie."

Your nose scrunched at the pet name. Your hand raised to your head, putting pressure against your temple, and for a moment, Sylus looked concerned. Or maybe it was your headache causing you to see things.

Either way, you felt your lungs near collapse in relief when he moved to the side and once more allowed access to the door. "I'll contact you tomorrow with finer details of the contract."

"Fine - sure." Whatever would get you out of here and home. You pushed past him, and he made no move to stop you, although you could swear you felt his eyes burning into you. Your home was stacked to the nines in security measures. You doubt he would find you anyway.

He watched you from the door as you replaced your glasses with your helmet and sped off down the driveway. At this point all you could think about was getting a hold of your meds and crashing for the foreseeable future.

And when you arrived home, that was exactly what you did.

Tag List: @lemonmoonmochi , @withering-dream (Please let me know if you would like to be added!)

Created by @thechaoticarchivist . Do not repost. Comments and Reblogs are always welcome!

[simplygojo]

The Devil He Made Me - Ch. 12

Authors Note: Alright guys I got a bit carried away with this chapter, that's why i'm posting it so late IMSORRY! But this is my version of the beach episode-except its a pool, lol. I hope you've all been well, I'm super excited for these upcoming chapters...I hope you are too! luv u all <3 Also my bad bc I did not edit this at all

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/reader

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary : After a very angsty night due to all the events of thed ay prior, Gojo takes you to a hotel before heading to the Gojo estate for a while to sort things out and go someplace safe. Little do you know—its a nice ass hotel, and he's brought along a surprise.

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: good times, fluff, pool party! mild angst

Taglist: @mawhoreagaa; @peqch-pie; @blue-serendipity; @simplyyyuji; @starrnai; @sorcerersseestars; @n1vi; @angryglitterperfection; @krak-jj; @coweringbear; @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni; @cococola-cocaine; @sdv98o; @theendx888; @dvmb4ssbiatch; @sugxryratz; @kinny-away; @crankyarchives; @enfppuff; @nanamisrighthand; If you’d like to be added to the series tag list, leave a comment below:)

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The hum of the car blends with the city’s distant sounds as the sleek black vehicle zips through Tokyo’s streets. 

You glance at Gojo in the driver’s seat, one hand casually resting on the steering wheel while he taps a rhythm with the other. He's unusually quiet, a sly smile tugging at his lips like he's savouring some inside joke.

You can’t help but give him a curious look. “You’re being suspiciously quiet, Gojo.”

He grins, his eyes hidden behind his trademark sunglasses. 

“Suspicious? Me? No, no. I’m just soaking up the atmosphere. You’ll see why soon enough.”

“Atmosphere?” You echo, eyeing the cityscape flashing by the window. “We’re just going to a hotel. Right?”

“Oh, we’re going to the hotel, thank you very much,” he says, giving you a conspiratorial look. “Only the best. You’ll get it when we get there.”

You shake your head, wondering what he’s got planned. With Gojo, there’s always a fifty-fifty chance of something extravagant or completely chaotic. 

"Oh, come on. I know you’re excited. You deserve a little luxury, and besides—" he pauses for dramatic effect, "—we’re going all out." 

He makes a finger-gun gesture at you like this whole thing is part of some elaborate game he’s running, and you roll your eyes.

Before you can press him for more details, the car takes a sharp turn, and your jaw drops as you take in the hotel in front of you. 

It’s towering, sleek, and wrapped in glistening glass panels that reflect the city lights back out in shimmering fragments. 

The whole place screams opulence.

As Gojo pulls up to the grand entrance, a flock of impeccably dressed bellhops practically materializes to greet the car. One of them opens your door with a polite bow, while two more appear on Gojo’s side, ready to relieve you both of your bags.

You step out, blinking at the scene. “I thought we were just staying here for the night, not moving in.”

Gojo slides out of the driver’s seat, tossing his sunglasses into the car before he gives you an exaggerated shrug. 

“Why would we settle for ‘just a room’?” He grins, then gestures toward the lobby’s gilded doors. “Come on, you’re gonna love this.”

He leads you inside, where a glistening chandelier illuminates the lobby, bathing the space in golden light. 

You’re still in awe when he presses the button for the top floor, and you side-eye him with a mix of intrigue and suspicion. “Just what exactly are we walking into?”

“You’ll see,” he says, winking. “Trust me.”

You smile but roll your eyes. His playfulness is a great distraction from the nerves that had been simmering just below the surface all day. 

The moment Gojo had suggested a night out before heading to his place, you'd felt a mix of anticipation and unease. 

Spending time alone with him, away from the academy, made you wonder what he had planned. Gojo always had that unpredictable edge—one moment, he'd be serious, focused, even a bit mysterious, and the next, he'd be grinning with that mischievous sparkle in his eye, as if he’d just thought of the world’s greatest prank.

The elevator ride up feels endless, the anticipation building as the numbers climb higher and higher. 

The elevator ride up feels endless, the anticipation building as the numbers climb higher and higher. 

You glance at Gojo, who’s sporting a smug grin, hands casually in his pockets, looking all too pleased with himself. 

Just as you open your mouth to ask what exactly he’s dragged you into, the elevator chimes, and the doors slide open.

A loud “SURPRISE!” nearly makes you jump out of your skin.

Standing in the hallway, dressed in fuzzy robes, are Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi. Yuji’s grinning from ear to ear, holding up a peace sign; Nobara looks smug, clearly revelling in the shock on your face, and Megumi’s leaning against the wall, attempting to act as if he’s above all this, though even he’s stifling a small smile.

Gojo raises his hands as if presenting a grand prize. 

“I couldn’t leave them out of the fun! What kind of teacher would I be if I didn’t bring the whole team?” He winks at you before throwing an arm around Yuji. 

“Besides, I rented out the entire top floor! Each of you gets your own room, fully stocked, premium everything. And don’t worry,” he adds, turning to you with a grin, “I made sure we have a connected suite so I can keep an eye on you.”

Nobara smirked, folding her arms as she gave you and Gojo a knowing look.

“Ohhh, a connected suite, huh? Gotta keep an eye on her, orrrr…?” She raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence but clearly enjoying your flustered reaction.

Yuji snickers, nudging Megumi. “Yeah, totally for ‘safety,’ right? Good thing we’re all here to keep you two in line,” he says, barely stifling his laughter.

Gojo just rolls his eyes, though he’s clearly amused by their suggestion. 

“Exactly. I wouldn’t trust any of you to keep from causing chaos without proper supervision,” he says, ruffling Yuji’s hair. “Besides, who says I’m not keeping an eye on all of you?”

You try to brush off the teasing, but Nobara’s grin only widens. “Sure, sure, Gojo-sensei. Whatever you say,” she sings, clearly not buying his excuse.

You feel the heat rising to your face, and Gojo’s only response is a wink in your direction, as if to say, Let them think what they want.

Nobara claps her hands together in delight. “I knew this wasn’t just gonna be a ‘simple night out.’ You’re really spoiling us, sensei!”

Yuji bounces over, nudging you with a conspiratorial grin. “Gojo-sensei said there’s room service and a rooftop pool!”

“Oh, and karaoke,” Nobara adds, her eyes gleaming as she nudges Megumi. “We’ll find out if our ‘Mr. Cool’ here has any hidden talents.”

Megumi sighs, folding his arms and glaring half-heartedly at Gojo. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head as the whole scene unfolds. Gojo gives you a smug grin, clearly revelling in his grand reveal.

Gojo gives a dramatic sigh, as if their surprise is the greatest validation he’s ever received. 

“You all deserve a night to unwind—just make sure not to destroy anything. I promised management we’d behave,” he says, looking pointedly at Nobara, who immediately rolls her eyes.

Gojo claps his hands together, grinning as if he’s just announced the party of the century. 

“Alright, troops! Meet me at the rooftop pool in twenty minutes. Swimsuits are in your rooms—yes, I thought of everything.” He flashes a look that’s somehow both playful and utterly smug.

Yuji pumps a fist in the air, already halfway down the hall. “Race you there!”

Megumi groans, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “As long as you don’t start cannonballing the second you get there.”

Nobara tosses her hair, giving Gojo a cheeky salute. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to keep everyone in line,” she says with a smirk aimed your way.

Gojo chuckles, then turns to you, offering his arm. 

“Shall we, partner?” He tilts his head toward the suite, a glint in his eye that suggests this might be just the beginning of his elaborate surprises for the night.

Looping your arm through his, you walk together down the plush, carpeted hallway. When you reach the end, Gojo swipes the keycard and opens the door to a sprawling suite that practically glows with opulence.

He gestures dramatically, like he’s unveiling a masterpiece. “Behold—your palace for the night.”

Stepping inside, you take in the stunning view of Tokyo’s skyline from the floor-to-ceiling windows. The room itself is a blend of sleek modern design and luxurious comfort, with plush seating, a massive bed, and a mini-bar that’s practically overflowing. You’re still processing it all when Gojo nudges you toward the far wall.

“Best part’s over here,” he says, sliding open a frosted glass door halfway to reveal a small passage that connects to his suite next door.

Gojo slides the frosted glass door open with a flourish, revealing a narrow passage leading into his suite. 

He taps the glass, grinning like he’s showing off a masterpiece. “See? Practically paper-thin. If anything happens, I’ll be right there in an instant.”

You smirk, crossing your arms. “And by ‘anything,’ you mean…?”

He feigns innocence, his eyes wide but gleaming with mischief. 

“Oh, you know, emergencies.” He taps his chin as if thinking it over. “Like, if you forget how to work the TV or you need someone to fetch you snacks…or I get bored.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “So, the real reason you set this up is to play hero over a snack shortage?”

He leans in just a bit closer, his voice dropping playfully. “Maybe I just didn’t want you to feel alone. It’s a big, fancy hotel, after all.”

You let out a small laugh, amused. “You really think you’re that charming, huh?”

“Hey, just looking out for you,” he quips back with a wink.

Just then, you hear a loud crash from the hall, followed by Yuji shouting, “Megumi! Nobara! Help! The snack cart’s tipping!”

Gojo sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes. “And there they go, ten seconds in.”He jokes, already heading toward the door. 

“But really—twenty minutes at the pool. Don’t let me be the only one in a ridiculous inflatable.”

With one last smirk, he disappears, leaving you alone in the lavish space. 

—

You sit there in the stillness of the room, letting the quiet settle around you. After everything that’s happened today, the silence feels jarring—almost unnatural. 

Your mind races back to that morning, the instant shock of recognizing the man in your nightmares: Suguru Geto. 

Even now, the thought sends a shiver down your spine. And to think he’d actually been in your room…watching, lingering right there. Just hours ago, you’d been consumed by fear and dread.

And now? 

Gojo’s acting as if none of it matters, whisking you and the others off to a luxury hotel like this is just another day. 

Maybe he’s just trying to help you escape it all, you reason. Maybe he wants you to relax, to have one night where you don’t have to look over your shoulder. It’d be… surprisingly thoughtful of him.

But as much as his carefree, reassuring presence feels good now, that doesn’t ease the confusion swirling in your mind. 

You and Gojo shared a heated moment that felt so vivid, so intensely real, it left you breathless. For a second, it seemed as though something unspoken had finally surfaced. 

And then, just like that, he pulled away. He put up that huge wall between you, cold and unreadable—as if he regretted every second.

Yet somehow, over the last two days, that distance seems to be fading again. And then there was that conversation with Nanami–There’s a warmth in his eyes, a kind of ease in his smile that makes it feel like you’re finally seeing the real Gojo. 

You can’t help but wonder if he’s going through his own uncertainties. Or maybe he’s as good at hiding his fears as he is at conjuring his charm.

With a sigh, you glance at the sliding door connecting your room to his, the thin glass a reminder of how close he really was.

—

You step onto the rooftop, the night sky sprawling endlessly above, lights from the Tokyo skyline flickering like distant stars.

The pool area is beautiful and sleek, lined with lounge chairs and the faint glow of soft, underwater lights casting a tranquil ambiance over the water. 

A cool breeze brushes over your skin, and you clutch the towel draped over your shoulders, pulling it a little tighter as you take in the scene.

Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara are already in the pool, laughing and splashing around.

Yuji hollered something to Megumi, who responded with his usual half-hearted irritation, and Nobara just rolled her eyes, enjoying herself despite her feigned annoyance. 

Standing by the edge of the pool, Gojo is stretching in his swim trunks, clearly ready to dive in.

When his gaze lands on you, his grin widens, his expression teasing.

"Thought you'd never make it," he calls over. 

"Gonna get in, or are you just here to supervise?" He gestures to the inflatable swans bobbing cheerfully in the water, a little ridiculous against the upscale backdrop of the rooftop pool, yet perfectly fitting his playful style.

As you walk toward him, you can’t help but notice that without his usual layers and long coat, he looks somehow...different—broader, the play of muscles over his arms and chest clearly defined. 

You’d always known he was strong, but seeing him like this gives you a fresh appreciation for just how powerful he really is.

His confidence radiates off him, casual and effortless, and when he catches you looking, he smirks in a way that makes your cheeks warm.

Rolling your eyes to cover up your reaction, you nod toward the pool. "Just waiting for the right moment to make an entrance," you say, giving him a smirk of your own.

He chuckles, tossing you a wink before raising his arms to dive. With a graceful, fluid motion, he springs into the pool, slicing through the water smoothly before resurfacing.

His hair, now wet and falling into his face, gleams under the soft pool lights, and there’s a hint of smug satisfaction on his face as he shakes the water out, blinking at you with mischief in his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you slip off your towel and drape it over one of the lounge chairs, walking confidently to the edge of the pool before sliding in, the cool water washing over your skin as you wade toward the others.

The water is refreshing, soothing away the last remnants of tension from the day.

Your swimsuit, black and simple, hugs your body perfectly. The fabric conforms to your curves, and as the water slicks your skin, it only highlights the way the suit fits you. 

Despite your attempts to focus on the others, you can feel Gojo’s eyes on you, as if nothing else in the world exists except for you at that moment. 

The way his gaze moves over your body is undeniable, like he’s studying the way your swimsuit fits, the way your body moves with the water. 

His attention lingers, tracing the curve of your waist, the way your hips shift as you move, and the way the wet fabric clings to your chest. His eyes travel the length of your legs as they move beneath the surface, the water shimmering as it follows the lines of your form.

Yuji immediately waves at you and grins once he notices you got in the water. 

"Hey! Come over here! I’ve gotta show you something." He hands you a bright blue pool noodle, his eyes sparkling with childlike enthusiasm. 

“This is the best way to mess with people.” Demonstrating, he dunks one end of the noodle into the water, then blows into the other end, sending a stream of water splashing directly at Megumi.

You laugh, following his lead and getting a quick splash aimed right at Yuji’s shoulder.

The two of you quickly descend into a playful back-and-forth, aiming noodle streams at each other and dodging around with exaggerated, dramatic dives as if you’re in some kind of slow-motion water fight. 

Yuji, laughing so hard he’s nearly choking, gives you a high-five as you successfully splash him.

Meanwhile, on the edge of the pool, Gojo has been watching you, an amused smile tugging at his lips as he takes in the way you laugh, splashing water at Yuji with unexpected ease. 

He watches how your hair, damp now from your battles with Yuji, falls in wet strands down your back, the water pooling around your shoulders as it drips down your neck.

The delicate shine of your skin catches the light, droplets of water trickling down your arms and over your collarbone.

There’s something almost soft in his gaze, as if he's seeing a side of you that surprises him—or maybe just one he’s glad to witness. 

His eyes linger on you, trailing over the graceful curve of your shoulders, the way the water smooths over your skin.

But Nobara, noticing his attention as she floats past on her hot pink floatie, is quick to break him out of his reverie. 

She splashes a handful of water his way, hitting him right in the face. "Stop gawking!" she scolds, a playful edge to her tone.

Gojo blinks, taken by surprise. His mouth opens to protest, but he only laughs, flicking some water back in Nobara’s direction. 

"Hey, can’t a guy admire his...team?"

She rolls her eyes, unimpressed. "Yeah right," she teases, her gaze flicking from you to Gojo with a knowing grin.

Unaware of the exchange, you continue splashing with Yuji until you’re both out of breath, leaning against the side of the pool to catch your breath. 

The cool water, the laughter, the lightheartedness—it’s all a welcome distraction, an unexpected reprieve from the day’s earlier revelations.

Only moments after you had stopped your pool noodle battle, Yuji gets out of the pool and walks over to the deep end, stretching his arms out in front of him before taking a big jump into the deep end.

He swims back over to you and Megumi, Gojo approaching also as he sat goofily on a pool noodle. "Alright, your turn y/n! Think you can dive like me?"

You pause, looking at the water with a hesitant smile. "Well... I don’t know...I don’t really remember if I’ve ever swam before…" you reply, your voice trailing off, unsure of your own abilities.

Yuji smirks, his energy contagious. “Come on, I bet you could! Just try it, you’ve got this!”

With his encouragement ringing in your ears, you take a deep breath and walk up the pool steps towards the deep end.

Once at the end, you crouch slightly, preparing for the dive, but as soon as you push off the edge and your head hits the water, everything changes.

The moment your body submerges, the water feels different—like it's not just water, but a veil lifting. 

A flood of memories crashes over you, sharp and overwhelming. You see yourself as a child, your hair slicked back just like it is now, diving into a pool. 

Your little sister is beside you, laughing, urging you on as you practice your dives together. You can almost feel the warm sun on your back, hear the splashing of the water, the excitement in her voice. 

The sound of your family in the background, their voices calling you to take your time, to perfect your dive.

For a second, it’s like everything else falls away. 

It’s just you, in the water, in the past, with your family, laughing, swimming. It’s such a real and intimate memory, you can almost smell the chlorine, taste the fresh air as it mixes with the feeling of the pool beneath your feet.

You break the surface of the water with a gasp, the moment leaving you breathless. Your heart pounds in your chest, and as you come up, you can't help but grin widely, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

“I used to swim! I remember I used to swim!” The words spill out before you even realize you’ve said them, and there’s a moment of shock in your voice as you come to terms with what just happened.

The flood of memories, so vivid, so real, feels like a key turning in your mind. For the first time, pieces of your past—pieces you never thought you'd get back—are falling into place.

As you break through the surface of the water, your heart races, and you let out a breathless laugh, the exhilaration of the moment overwhelming you. Your eyes are wide, sparkling with newfound joy, and your chest swells with the excitement of what you've just discovered.

“I used to swim! I remember I used to swim!” you exclaim again, your voice still carrying the shock and wonder of the realization.

Yuji, treading water nearby, blinks in surprise. "Huh? What? You used to swim?"

Megumi lifts his head from the water, his brow furrowed in confusion, trying to process what you’ve just said. “Wait, you… you remember swimming?”

Your grin is bright, the flood of memories still fresh in your mind. “Yeah! I do! I remember my sister... we used to go to the pool together. We practiced diving, and... I remember the sound of her laughing, and... the smell of the chlorine... I had a sister. I—” You pause, the weight of your own words sinking in, as if the mere mention of her name makes her presence feel real again.

The group is quiet for a second, taking in the significance of what you’ve just shared. You’ve gotten a piece of yourself back—something so personal and meaningful. Yuji’s face lights up with enthusiasm, his voice warm and full of excitement.

“That's amazing, y/n!” He calls out, grinning like it’s his own personal victory. “You’re remembering things! That’s huge!”

Nobara, floating past on her hot pink floatie, claps her hands together. “Yeah, that’s a big deal! You’ve got some real memories back. That’s progress, y/n!”

Megumi, though usually a bit more reserved, offers a small but genuine smile, clearly happy for you. “Good to hear. That's a step in the right direction.”

Gojo, standing in the middle of the shallow end with his arms folded, lets out a deep breath, his usual playful demeanour giving way to something more sincere. 

“See? I told you you were making progress. You’ve got more memories waiting for you. I knew you had it in you.”

Your heart swells at their reactions, the collective happiness of your friends filling you with warmth.

For the first time in a while, you feel like you’re not entirely lost, like there are pieces of your past coming back to you, one fragment at a time.

“I remember my sister,” you repeat, as if saying it again makes it more real. "I can't believe it... I have a sister."

The group looks at each other, nodding and sharing quiet smiles. You can feel their support, their belief in you. It’s not just a small step—it’s a breakthrough.

And as you stand there in the pool, surrounded by people who care, you realize that even though you don’t have all the answers yet, you’re moving forward. 

You’ve gained something tonight, something that was yours all along.

Gojo, his playful smile returning, gives a nod of approval. “Alright, y/n, looks like we’ve got a swimmer in the group now. You’re on your way to being a full-fledged diver.”

The others laugh, and the mood shifts back to its usual lightheartedness. But for you, there’s something deeper now—something that’s been restored. Your past, your memories, are slowly coming back, and with them, you’re beginning to understand more about who you are.

And for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel so alone in the dark.

—

The soft click of the suite door closing behind you echoed in the quiet space, and you exhaled, letting the weight of the day settle on your shoulders. The room was as extravagant as before, but its opulence felt distant, secondary to the whirl of thoughts in your mind.

You couldn’t help it but your mind drifted back to that conversation you had overheard between Gojo and Nanami just a few days ago.

Their words replayed in your head, his voice low but insistent in that rare serious tone he used only when he meant something deeply.

“She doesn’t know how much I need her to be okay,’ Gojo had said, the tone of desperation evident in his voice. 

‘Then let her see it,” Nanami had replied.

Shaking your head, you made your way to the bathroom, hoping a hot shower might help clear your mind.

The bathroom was a masterpiece of modern luxury, with sleek marble counters, gleaming fixtures, and a rainfall shower that looked more like a spa experience than a simple rinse.

You turned the water on, letting the heat build until steam clouded the glass walls. 

Peeling off your swimsuit, you stepped under the cascade of water, the warmth instantly soothing your tense muscles.

For a few moments, the only sound was the steady rhythm of water hitting the tiles, a gentle white noise that filled the space.

You tilted your head back, letting the stream run over your face, down your back, carrying away the salt and chlorine and the weight of the day.

But no matter how soothing the shower was, your thoughts kept circling back.

‘She’s in my head—everywhere I look.’

Why had he said it with such conviction? Such quiet protectiveness? Gojo, for all his teasing and playful arrogance, had always seemed untouchable, always wearing that mask of flippancy. Yet in that moment, he’d sounded so... different.

Did he really feel that way? As someone worth fighting for? Or was it just Gojo being Gojo—throwing himself into situations out of principle, out of defiance against authority?

You sighed, resting your forehead against the cool tiles. The heat of the water contrasted sharply with the strange warmth blooming in your chest, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

And then there was the other side of it—the nagging confusion that came with Gojo himself. He was impossible to figure out, swinging between moments of genuine care and infuriating smugness. 

One minute, he was flirting shamelessly, his words laced with a confidence that made your head spin. The next, he was cool and distant, as if pulling back the moment things got too real.

But that moment with Nanami... It had felt real. Too real to ignore.

“Get a grip,” you muttered to yourself, running a hand through your wet hair.

You let the water run a little longer, hoping to wash away the lingering mix of confusion and... whatever else it was. 

Yet as you finally turned off the shower and stepped onto the heated tiles, wrapping a plush towel around yourself, you couldn’t shake the memory of his voice, or the strange, unspoken something it stirred in you.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t simple. And with Gojo, you doubted it ever would be.

As you walked back into your room, you noticed the folded pair of black silk pyjamas on the bed.

He really did think of everything…

—

After a while of reading one of the books you had brought, you were interrupted by a soft knock at the frosted glass door between your room and Gojos.

The knock at the frosted glass door was soft, but in the quiet of your room, it sounded louder than it should. 

You glanced up from the book in your lap, a little startled. Sliding off the bed, you made your way over and slid the door open.

There he was, Gojo, leaning lazily against the doorframe, his damp hair falling in soft tufts around his face. He looked more relaxed than usual, dressed in a plain white t-shirt and loose gray sweatpants, but his trademark grin was still firmly in place.

“Can’t sleep,” he said with a casual shrug, stepping inside as if it were his room.

“You never seem to,” you replied, stepping aside to let him in. 

“Should I be worried this is becoming a habit?”

He chuckled, making himself comfortable by sitting at the edge of your bed. “Nah, just thought I’d check in on you. See how you’re holding up after earlier.”

You folded your arms, leaning against the wall. “I’m fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle. But you—” You gestured toward him. “You look like you haven’t even tried to sleep. What gives?”

He waved a hand dismissively. “I just don’t sleep much. Don’t really need to.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unconvinced. “Yeah, but why not? You’ve got to get tired like everyone else, right?”

For a moment, he just looked at you, as if debating whether to answer. Finally, he let out a sigh, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s not that I don’t get tired. I just can’t sleep the way normal people do.”

You frowned, moving to sit beside him on the bed. “What do you mean?”

He glanced at you briefly before turning his gaze to the wide windows, the glittering city lights reflected in his eyes. 

“You know my Infinity technique,” he began. “It’s always on. Even when I’m not actively thinking about it, it’s working in the background, keeping me untouchable.”

You nodded, vaguely familiar with the concept from what you’d learned about cursed techniques.

“To keep it running all the time, I can’t let my mind completely shut off,” he continued. “Even when I sleep, part of me is still monitoring it, making sure it stays active. I’ve trained myself to sort of… half-sleep. But it’s not the same as real rest. Three, maybe four hours a night is all I can manage. Anything more, and I risk losing control of the technique.”

The weight of his words settled over you, heavier than you’d expected. “That sounds… awful,” you said quietly.

He gave a small, lopsided smile, but there was no humour in it. “It’s not ideal, but it works. And it keeps people safe, so… it’s worth it.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening at the uncharacteristic vulnerability in his voice. For all his teasing and bravado, there was a depth to him you were only just beginning to see. 

“Still,” you said softly, “it must be exhausting.”

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “But I’ve been doing it for so long, it’s just… part of who I am now.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t say anything. Instead, you shifted your gaze to the windows, the city lights stretching endlessly into the distance.

“Do you ever miss it?” you asked after a moment.

“Miss what?”

“Being able to just… rest. No Infinity, no responsibilities, just being… you.”

He was quiet for a long time, his expression unreadable. “Maybe,” he said finally. “But it’s not like I have much of a choice. If I didn’t keep it on, people would get hurt. I can’t let that happen.”

You nodded, the quiet conviction in his voice striking a chord in you. “It’s a lot to carry,” you said softly.

He glanced at you, his usual smirk returning. “Are you trying to psychoanalyze me now? Because I’ve got to warn you, I’m a tough nut to crack.”

You rolled your eyes, relieved to see a hint of his usual self shining through. “No, I just think… maybe you should let someone else help you carry the weight every once in a while.”

He tilted his head, his grin widening. “Are you volunteering?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you shot back, though the warmth in his gaze made it hard to hold onto your feigned annoyance.

He chuckled, leaning back on his hands. “You’re pretty cute when you’re all serious, you know that?”

“Satoru,” you warned, though your tone lacked any real bite.

The playful edge in his chuckle faded as silence settled between you again. 

He leaned back, his hands propping him up on the bed as his gaze shifted back to the cityscape outside. You followed his line of sight, watching the lights twinkle like stars on the horizon.

But your mind wasn’t on the view. It was on him.

You thought back to all the moments you’d spent with Gojo since you met him—the way he carried himself, always carefree and teasing, as if the weight of the world didn’t touch him. 

Now, sitting here with him, you realized it wasn’t that the weight didn’t touch him. It was that he refused to let anyone see how much it did.

Your chest tightened again, a mix of sympathy and something else you couldn’t quite name. 

He wasn’t just Satoru Gojo, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, the one who could take on anything and walk away unscathed. He was also just… a man. A man who carried more than anyone should ever have to, who never let himself rest because too much was at stake.

It made sense now, why he acted the way he did. The jokes, the cockiness, the endless energy—it was all a shield. 

A way to keep people from looking too closely, from seeing how much he gave up to be who he was.

And now, you had seen it.

Finally, you shifted slightly on the bed, pulling your legs up to sit cross-legged beside him. “I get it now,” you said softly.

He turned his head slightly, one eyebrow quirking up. “Get what?”

“Why you are the way you are,” you said, your voice low. 

“You’re not just… Satoru Gojo. You’re the Satoru Gojo. The strongest. The one everyone relies on. It’s like…” You hesitated, unsure if your words would sound foolish.

“Like what?” He prompted, his tone laced with sarcasm.

“It’s like you’re the sun,” you said finally. “Bright, untouchable. But no one ever thinks about how lonely it must be, burning that brightly all the time.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, he looked at you as if seeing you in a new light. “That’s poetic,” he said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I’m being serious,” you said, nudging his arm lightly with your knee. “You carry so much, and you make it look effortless. But it’s not, is it? Effortless.”

He looked away, his gaze fixed on the glowing cityscape. “No,” he admitted. “It’s not.”

The quiet honesty in his voice made your chest tighten. 

You wanted to reach out, to tell him he didn’t have to bear it all alone, but you didn’t know how. Instead, you tucked your arms around your knees, leaning against the bedpost as you studied his profile.

“You don’t let people see this side of you often, do you?” you asked.

“Only on special occasions,” he replied with a smirk, though his voice lacked its usual teasing edge.

You raised an eyebrow. “Wow, lucky me. Should I feel honoured or concerned that I’m your VIP audience tonight?”

The faintest chuckle escaped him, and his smirk softened into something gentler. “A little bit of both, probably.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it felt heavy, like the room was holding its breath.

“Do you ever get tired of it?” you asked softly, breaking the quiet.

He didn’t look at you this time. “Tired of what?”

“Being you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “The strongest. The one everyone depends on.”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then he let out a quiet laugh, but it wasn’t like his usual one. It was softer, more subdued. “I think if I let myself get tired of it, I wouldn’t be able to take it anymore.”

You frowned, the ache in your chest growing. “That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair,” he replied lightly, but his tone lacked its usual playfulness.

You shifted closer to him, your legs brushing against his. 

“You shouldn’t have to do it alone, though. Don’t you want something more out of life?”

His smile lingered, but he didn’t reply. 

Instead, he turned his attention back to the window, his eyes distant waiting for a few moments before speaking again. 

“It’s not about what I want,” he said finally. “It’s about what I can do. And what I can do… no one else can. It may not be fair, y/n, but its the way it is.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. Because he was right—for all the unfairness of it—he was right.

The quiet between you lingered, neither uncomfortable nor easy. 

The city lights reflected off the glass, painting faint patterns of gold and silver across the room. 

You wanted to say something, to push back against the resignation in his voice, but no words seemed fitting. What could you say to someone who carried the world and made it look effortless, even when it wasn’t?

Gojo leaned back slightly, resting his weight on his hands, his gaze distant but thoughtful. Finally, he exhaled, the faintest ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. 

“You should get some sleep,” he said lightly, standing up and walking backwards towards the frosted glass door.”

“Big day tomorrow. The Gojo estate, bright and early. You’ll get to see the big mansion with no one living in it–well except us for a short while ‘till we get things figured out.”

“Sounds thrilling,” you said, your attempt at levity falling a little flat.

You sat there for a moment, staring at the space he’d just left. 

The weight of the conversation lingered in the air, a quiet reminder of just how much more there was to him than his usual carefree demeanour.

Finally, you let out a breath, sliding under the covers and curling up against the mattress. 

The faint patterns of light from the city still danced across the walls, but your eyes felt heavy now, your body sinking into the comfort of the bed.

As you drifted off, your thoughts lingered on his words—on the way he carried so much without complaint, on the rare vulnerability he’d let slip. 

Tomorrow would come, bright and early, but tonight, you let yourself hope that maybe, just maybe, you could ease even a fraction of the burden he carried.

Sleep found you, though not without the quiet echo of his voice following you into your dreams.

[lytheranoctis]

[simplygojo]

The Devi He Made Me - Ch. 11

Authors Note: HAPPY END OF KINKTOBER!!! I am so happy to be back to my regular schedule, when i say that it drained me...omg...anywayysss, new chapter of TDHMM-yippie-Shit is starting to get serioussss. I hope you love it :)

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/reader

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary : After another excruciatingly painful nightmare, Gojo takes y/n to go see if Shoko might be able to identify just who she keeps seeing in her teams, and finally put an end to this all. However, after an unexpected surprise, things go downhill, as they all realize how serious y/n's situation really is...

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: angst, mention of death, minor creepy vibes

Taglist: @mawhoreagaa; @peqch-pie; @blue-serendipity; @simplyyyuji; @starrnai; @sorcerersseestars; @n1vi ; @angryglitterperfection; @krak-jj; @coweringbear; @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni; @cococola-cocaine; @sdv98o; @theendx888; @dvmb4ssbiatch; @sugxryratz; @kinny-away; @crankyarchives; @enfppuff; @nanamisrighthand; If you’d like to be added to the series tag list, leave a comment below:)

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Morning light seeped into your room, pale and muted, casting long shadows that seemed to cling to every surface. 

You hadn’t slept much; fragments of last night’s conversation between Gojo and Nanami still rang in your ears. 

One thing he said really stuck in your mind; ‘no matter how much I try to shove my feelings aside; they keep finding their way back to her. She’s in my head—she’s everywhere I look…’ 

It had been raw, so unlike his typical unbreakable confidence, and it twisted uncomfortably in your chest.

A knock interrupted your thoughts, soft but steady, and you knew right away it was him. Gojo’s hand had a careful rhythm, one that was somehow both reassuring and nerve-wracking.

“Y/n?” His voice was gentle, a murmur through the door. “Can I come in?”

You swallowed, straightening a little as you called out, “Yeah, sure.”

He stepped in, the door creaking softly behind him. Gojo’s usual easygoing expression was gone, replaced with a serious, almost guarded look. 

He stood there for a moment, eyes scanning your face as if searching for signs of the sleepless night you’d had. 

His shoulders were more tense than usual, his mouth pressed into a thin line. You could feel the energy in the room change, thick and palpable, a strange tension hanging between you.

After a moment’s hesitation, he moved to sit at the edge of your bed, close enough that you could feel his warmth but just far enough to keep the distance between you painfully obvious. 

His hand rested on his knee, fingers flexing, then curling tightly as if to keep himself from reaching for you. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady, but his eyes held a flicker of caution.

“I talked to Shoko,” he said, each word careful, his gaze not quite meeting yours at first. 

“About your nightmares and the memories you’ve been seeing. She thinks we might be able to take a look.” 

His eyes finally lifted, holding yours, an unreadable intensity making your pulse skip. 

“She set up some tests using cursed energy to amplify the memories stored in your brain. It’ll be… intense, but it could help us understand what’s going on with you.”

Your breath caught, hope and uncertainty tangling inside you. “You think it’ll work?”

Gojo nodded slowly, his face softening with a small, almost imperceptible smile. 

“If anyone can pull it off, it’s Shoko. But—” he hesitated, then leaned in just a fraction, his gaze narrowing slightly as he searched your eyes. 

“It won’t be easy. These memories… they’re tied to something powerful, something you might not fully understand yet. And depending on what we find…” 

He trailed off, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against his knee, as though weighing something heavy. 

“Depending on what we see, things might change. You have to be sure you’re ready for this.”

The air between you seemed to thicken, his words sinking in. There was a hint of something vulnerable in his face, an unspoken warning. 

You weren’t entirely sure what he meant by ‘things might change,’ but the intensity of his gaze left no room for doubt about the seriousness of this choice.

After a beat, you took a steadying breath, a resolve building inside you. 

The nightmares had been clawing at you for weeks, pulling you into glimpses of darkness and confusion. If this was a way to finally understand it, even if it meant facing something dangerous, you knew you had to try.

“I’m ready,” you said softly, your voice steady.

His shoulders relaxed slightly, though a shadow of that worry lingered in his eyes. 

“Didn’t think you’d say anything else,” he replied, a faint, bittersweet smirk tugging at his lips. Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached out, his hand hovering for a moment before finally coming to rest on your shoulder. 

His touch was warm and grounding, his thumb barely brushing the fabric of your shirt as if he were testing the weight of the contact.

“Let’s figure this out,” he murmured, his voice low, tinged with something he couldn’t quite keep hidden. 

His fingers lingered on your shoulder a beat too long, his eyes still locked with yours. 

Then, reluctantly, he let his hand slip away, his fingers brushing against your arm as he withdrew. 

You could still feel the warmth of his hand, a lingering reminder of his presence, leaving your skin buzzing.

Whatever was hidden in those memories, whatever awaited you in Shoko’s tests—you were about to find out. And with Gojo by your side, even the fear seemed a little more bearable.

—

As you and Gojo make your way through the quiet hallways toward Shoko’s clinic, an uneasy silence stretches between you. 

He walks just a half-step ahead, his usual swagger subdued. Every now and then, he glances your way, his hand moving as if he might reach out, only to let it fall back to his side. 

Each step feels heavier than the last, the weight of what you’re about to face pressing down on both of you.

Finally, you break the silence, voice barely above a whisper. “I… I am a little scared, you know?”

Gojo stops for a second, turning to look at you with an expression caught between surprise and something deeper, almost pained. 

His usual mask of confidence falters, and for a moment, his eyes soften. He opens his mouth to say something, but the words don’t come. 

It’s like he’s struggling with some inner battle, something that holds him back.

“I get it,” he says quietly, looking away. 

“This isn’t… easy.” He laughs softly, almost to himself, but it lacks his usual ease. 

“I mean, facing this stuff—anyone would feel the same.” He pauses, his eyes flickering back to you, as if he’s waiting for you to believe him. 

You can tell he wants to say more, something that seems to gnaw at him, but he just runs a hand through his hair, glancing away.

Nanami’s words echo in his mind: Sometimes, she just needs to know she’s not alone. You need to decide if you’re going to tell her how you feel, or risk losing her in the silence.

Gojo clears his throat, as if pushing the thought aside, and starts walking again, slower this time as you matched his pace. 

He can feel your gaze on him, and it makes his heart race with something he’s not used to. 

When he risks another glance, you’ve got that look in your eyes—the same one that’s haunted him for days, making him wonder if this silence between you was worth the risk.

—

When the two of you finally reach Shoko’s clinic, she’s already setting up the equipment. 

The faint hum of machines fills the room, a steady reminder of the unknown you’re about to face. Shoko greets you with a reassuring smile as she adjusts the settings on a peculiar-looking machine connected to a nearby screen.

“Y/n,” she says, giving your arm a gentle squeeze, “this machine will help focus my cursed energy into the memories stored in your brain. Hopefully, it’ll amplify the images enough for us to see what you’ve been experiencing in those nightmares. But I have to warn you—this might be intense.”

You nod, trying to appear braver than you feel, but Gojo notices the slight tremor in your hand as you settle into the chair. 

He watches as Shoko starts to attach small sensors to your temples and wrists, her movements calm and practiced.

To distract yourself, you make a little small talk. “So… this isn’t a normal part of your daily routine, huh?”

Shoko chuckles softly. “Nope. But I’ll admit, it’s a little exciting,” she says, glancing at Gojo with a smirk. 

“He’s been pushing for us to try something like this for a while now. Always so determined.”

Gojo raises an eyebrow, his usual cocky grin making a brief appearance. 

“Can’t blame me for being proactive,” he teases, but his voice lacks its usual bite, and his gaze remains fixed on you, the hint of worry still there.

With the machine finally set up, Shoko gives you a final reassuring nod. 

“Okay, y/n. Just relax and try to let the memories flow. Focus on whatever images you remember seeing in your dreams, even if they’re fragmented. Let’s see what comes through.”

You take a deep breath, heart pounding, and close your eyes, reaching into the swirling depths of your mind. 

Shoko’s cursed energy pulses gently, a warm yet unfamiliar presence threading into your consciousness, guiding you back to the shadows of your nightmares.

The screen behind you flickers to life, a hazy swirl of shapes and colours forming, but nothing solid enough to grasp. 

Blurred images flash—dark forests, twisted silhouettes, flashes of light and shadow—like fleeting glimpses of something lurking in the back of your mind.

“Come on, y/n,” Shoko encourages gently, her voice grounding you. “Try to focus on the details. Anything you can remember.”

You try harder, diving deeper into the fragmented memories. Each attempt only brings flashes—a featureless face you can’t quite place, a feeling of searing pain, as though something is clawing its way out of you. 

But just as you think you’re close, it slips away, the images blurring and scattering into darkness.

The struggle shows on your face, and Gojo can’t stand the look of frustration and pain that crosses your features. 

He shifts closer, his hand reaching out instinctively before he stops himself, hesitating. His jaw tightens, torn between his instinct to protect you and the words he can’t seem to bring himself to say.

He clears his throat, voice soft but steady.

“Take your time. Don’t push yourself too hard.” His words are gentle, a quiet contrast to his usual conduct, and you can feel the sincerity behind them.

But even his voice couldn’t cut through the storm in your mind. 

The memories remain distant, elusive, slipping through your grasp like smoke. 

The frustration is overwhelming, each attempt to hold onto the fragments feeling like trying to capture water with bare hands. 

You’re ready to give up, to surrender to the aching fog that clouds every detail—but then, something shifts.

A sharp, searing pain strikes deep in your mind, like a knife twisting through the haze. Your breath catches, and suddenly, everything clears for a brief, terrible moment.

An image crystallizes on the screen behind you, vivid and horrifying.

A man—tall, with long jet-black hair cascading over his shoulders, dressed in dark purple robes that seem to shift in the shadows. 

His face is twisted into a sinister smile that chills you to your core. 

But it’s his eyes that hold you captive, cold and calculating, as though he’s staring straight through you, mocking you. 

And there’s something else—a line of stitches that runs across his forehead, as though he’s been sewn together, piece by piece, into something monstrous.

It’s a face you know you’ve seen before, lurking at the edges of your mind, hidden in the shadows of your nightmares.

The name slashes through your thoughts, clear and undeniable.

You gasp, your whole body tensing with the shock of recognition, and the image on the screen flickers, distorting with static. 

But it lingers, hanging in the air like a ghostly imprint before it vanishes completely, leaving only a dark emptiness on the screen.

Shoko’s eyes widened, and a sharp gasp slipped past her lips, her usually calm demeanour cracking as she processed what she had just seen. 

“That… that was Geto, wasn’t it?” Her voice is barely a whisper.

Gojo’s reaction is immediate. His face drained of colour, and for a second, he looked as if he’d seen a ghost. 

His usual confidence is nowhere to be found, replaced with a raw, unguarded shock that he quickly tries to suppress. 

But his hand still hovers near you, clenched into a fist, as if he’s struggling to contain a surge of emotion.

“Suguru..” He murmured, almost to himself as his eyes remained locked on the blank screen. 

“How is this even possible?” His voice tinged with disbelief and dread.

For a moment, you’re overwhelmed by the memory, by the terror that pulses through you. 

“I—I don’t know,” you stammer, feeling as though you’re back in that nightmare, as if you’re staring into those cold, unfeeling eyes all over again. 

“That’s him though, the man in my nightmares….… I think he did something to me. That night in the forest—there was… there was a feeling, like something was breaking inside me.”

Gojo’s hand finally closes around your shoulder, grounding you. His grip is firm but gentle, his fingers just slightly digging into your skin, steadying you as he pulls you back from the edge of the memory.

You searched his face, his expression so intense it was almost unreadable—anger, yes, but there was something else there, something raw and unspoken.

“That man…” You took a shaky breath, piecing the fragments together. “Do… do you know him?”

The question seemed to pierce right through him. 

For a moment, Gojo’s usual composure faltered, his hand dropping from your shoulder as he took a step back. 

His face tightened, his mouth pressed into a grim line, and his gaze fell, no longer meeting yours.

“Yes,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. There was a pause, weighted and painful, and when he spoke again, his tone was low, haunted. “He was my best friend.”

The words hit you like a wave, leaving you speechless. 

Gojo’s best friend. It was hard to imagine him with that kind of connection to someone so terrifying, someone who left such a dark mark on your mind. 

The man from your nightmares, the man who had been torturing your dreams, was once someone Gojo trusted, someone he cared about.

“But…” You struggled to find the words, feeling a strange, twisting ache as you watched the turmoil flicker in Gojo’s eyes. 

“If he was your best friend… then what happened?”

Gojo’s gaze lifted to meet yours, a mix of sorrow and something harder, colder, that you had never seen from him before. 

“I killed him.” The confession dropped heavily between you, his voice uncharacteristically hoarse. “It was… the only choice I had.”

For a second, the room felt colder, the weight of his words sinking in. You could barely process it. 

The ache in your chest deepened as you took in his pain. The way his hand had lingered on your shoulder, the protectiveness in his gaze, even the anger—it all made sense now. 

“Gojo…” you started, but he cut you off, his eyes blazing with a fierce resolve.

“Whatever Suguru did to you, whatever he left behind, I’ll find a way to remove it,” he vowed, his tone thick with emotion. 

“I won’t let his darkness touch you any more than it already has.”

The intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. 

You could feel the weight of his promise, a fierce protectiveness that was nearly overwhelming. 

There was so much he wasn’t saying, so much he was holding back, but you could see it in his gaze—the regret, the guilt, the memories of a friend turned enemy.

You swallowed, nodding as you tried to process it all. 

“Thank you… I don’t even know how to start making sense of this, but…” Your voice trembled. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

Gojo’s eyes softened, and he offered a faint, bittersweet smile. 

“I won’t let you go through this alone,” he said gently, and this time, his hand rested on your shoulder a little longer, grounding you, promising you that he’d stand by your side, no matter what.

The weight of his words settles over you, a strange comfort in the midst of fear. 

The memory has left a scar on your mind, but Gojo’s presence beside you feels like an anchor, grounding you in the present, keeping you from sinking back into the darkness.

He released your shoulder slowly, his gaze lingering on you with a mixture of regret and resolve. Nanami’s words still echo in his mind, a reminder that he can’t ignore any longer. 

But for now, he buries it, focusing on what matters most. Finding out what Geto had done to you.

“I think that’s enough for now, Shoko.” Gojo said curtly as his hand found the spot between your shoulder blades, gently pushing you forward to get off of the chair. 

—

Gojo’s hand rested firmly against the small of your back, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the quiet hallway. 

Yet something about his touch felt different—less his usual casual, steady presence and more like an unspoken promise, as though he was trying to keep you tethered to something he could barely name. 

The late morning light spilled in through the windows, but it felt muted, its warmth blunted by the tension of this new discovery that seemed to hover between you.

The silence was thick, stretching out in the spaces between your steps, until you could no longer bear the weight of it. 

You glanced up at him, catching the crease in his brow, the intensity in his gaze as he looked ahead. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and for once, his usual mask of playfulness was gone, replaced by something darker, more conflicted.

“Gojo… are you okay?” you asked quietly, hesitantly, your voice barely breaking the stillness around you.

For a moment, he didn’t respond, his gaze fixed ahead, but you could feel his fingers press just a fraction more firmly against your back. 

It was as if he needed that point of contact–a reminder of your presence to keep himself grounded. 

You stopped, turning to face him fully, forcing him to meet your gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, the words catching slightly in your throat. “I didn’t mean to put all this on you… to cause you so much stress.”

At that, he froze, his eyes widening slightly as though your words had struck a nerve he hadn’t expected. 

The surprise softened into something deeper as he looked down at you, his expression raw and unguarded. 

Without a word, he lifted a hand to your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin with a touch so gentle it left a shiver in its wake. 

There was a fierce, unyielding resolve in his gaze, but there was something else too—something vulnerable, something he had yet to say.

“Y/n,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “you have nothing to apologize for.” 

He held your gaze, his blue eyes steady, resolute hidden behind his usual frames. “I’m going to–we’re going to find out what Geto did to you. I swear it.”

The intensity of his words struck you, the weight behind them settling into your chest. 

He was close now, closer than he’d been since your heated moment he chose to forget, his face mere inches from yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your cheek. 

You could feel the quiet ache in his touch, the unspoken emotion simmering between you, and for a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes—a vulnerability he rarely let anyone see. 

His gaze dropped to your lips for a fleeting second, and his breath hitched, as though he were teetering on the edge of something he couldn’t take back.

But then, his expression shifted. 

The softness faded, replaced by a hard, unyielding line as his jaw tightened, his body going rigid. 

His hand slipped from your cheek, and his eyes narrowed, his attention snapping toward your room down just the hallway, his gaze dark and clouded with a new intensity.

“Gojo…?” You asked, feeling a sudden chill creep up your spine.

He barely heard you, his focus now locked on the closed door of your room, his entire body tense, as if preparing for battle. 

His eyes flashed with something fierce, a simmering rage that was barely visible.

Without another word, he took a step forward, his hand dropping to his side as he gathered his cursed energy, the very air around him thickening with a quiet, lethal power.

His gaze flicked back to you, filled with something fierce and protective—a look that made your heart beat faster, though not from fear.

“Suguru,” he uttered, the name slipping from his lips like a curse, his voice cold and sharp.

A surge of dread washed over you as he spoke, and you could feel the shift in the air, the weight of something sinister lingering in the hallway. 

You saw his fingers curl, his hand lifting ever so slightly, his cursed energy humming just beneath the surface, ready to strike.

Instinctively, you took a step forward, reaching out to follow him, but his hand shot out, pressing you back gently but firmly. 

“Stay here,” he said, his voice laced with a deadly calm. The authority in his tone was undeniable, and there was a hard edge in his gaze, one that told you he wouldn’t let you argue this time. “I would never mistake it…he was here.”

You swallowed, wanting to be by his side, to help in any way you could, but the look in his eyes stopped you. 

It was the look of a man who would protect you at any cost, who would let nothing and no one harm you again. 

There was a storm brewing in him, a silent fury that seemed to burn away any remnants of his usual carefree demeanour.

For a moment, all you could do was watch, feeling a mix of fear and something deeper, something that tugged at your chest. 

The door creaked open under his hand, and he slipped inside, leaving you standing alone in the hall, acutely aware of the silence that followed. 

Inside, Gojo's eyes swept the room. 

It looked untouched—your bed was neatly made, the sunlight filtering through the blinds cast soft patterns across the floor, and nothing seemed out of place. 

But beneath the ordinary, he could feel it, like a faint pulse in the air. 

Geto’s cursed energy lingered, barely perceptible but unmistakable, weaving through the room like the ghost of a dark promise.

The subtle residue prickled against his senses as he remembered what happened last time he felt Geto’s cursed energy around one of his students…His jaw clenched, and he forced his breathing to remain steady as he let his gaze drift over every inch of the room, his attention as sharp as a blade. 

The thought of Geto being here, in your private space, sent a surge of anger through him, burning away the last remnants of calm he had managed to hold onto.

He moved further in, his footsteps barely making a sound as he scanned the shadows, his cursed energy flickering out like invisible tendrils, feeling for anything out of the ordinary. 

Every instinct in him screamed to root out every last trace, to eliminate even the faintest whisper of Geto’s presence from this room, this place that should have been safe for you.

But even as he combed through the empty spaces, there was nothing solid—no sign of a physical intrusion, no ransacked belongings or broken barriers. 

Just that faint, dark thread of energy, faded but lingering, as if Geto had been here recently, watching, perhaps even waiting.

The thought twisted in Gojo’s mind like a knife. 

He tightened his fist, his knuckles pale against the light. 

The implications of Geto’s presence—the questions of what he wanted, what he had planned, why you—gnawed at him, a reminder of just how much he had failed to keep Geto away from you. 

He was supposed to be the strongest—a weapon of jujutsu society…

And for the first time in a long while, Gojo felt a sting of helplessness that cut through his determination, a flicker of vulnerability that he despised.

With a final sweep of the room, Gojo made his way back to the door, his expression grim. 

—

When he stepped back into the hallway, his gaze softened only slightly as he met yours, his earlier storm barely concealed beneath a thin veneer of calm.

When Gojo’s gaze finally met yours, he felt his chest tighten, an unfamiliar ache that unsettled him more than he’d ever admit. 

The whirlwind of anger and worry roiling beneath his calm exterior nearly broke free, but he held it in check, unwilling to let you see the full force of his turmoil. 

He had always been careful with you, keeping the weight of his emotions hidden behind easy smiles and lighthearted words. But right now, with the events of the morning and Geto’s presence still haunting the air around him, he felt his resolve slip.

In the silence, he searched your face, seeing the fear, the confusion—and that undeniable spark of trust shining in your eyes. 

It made his heart clench, that unguarded look you gave him, as if he were your anchor in a world turned upside down. His usual self-assurance faltered as he took in the vulnerability you didn’t try to hide, and for a split second, he wondered if you saw past his composed facade, if you knew just how far he’d go to keep you safe.

You looked up at him, your gaze unwavering despite the uncertainty hanging between you. 

There was something raw in your eyes that left him feeling both exposed and deeply, irrevocably drawn to you. 

He didn’t know how to protect you from what Geto had left behind or how to untangle the curse that seemed to reach through your memories like twisted roots—but he knew he wouldn’t stop trying.

“Satoru…?” You murmured, voice gentle but questioning, as if sensing the weight he carried, the silent storm he hid just beneath the surface. 

The way you said his name—it was both grounding and terrifying. He was so used to people looking to him for protection, for answers. 

But you looked at him like you saw more, like you saw him—the man beneath the power.

He swallowed, feeling a sudden need to say something that would make this easier for you, that would lighten the weight in your eyes. But nothing came, no easy jokes or clever words. 

“Y/n,” he said quietly, the words thick with an emotion he hadn’t dared put a name to. 

“I don’t why Suguru here, and I don’t know why he is in your dreams—or memories—whatever it is.” He began, pulling himself out of his thoughts. 

You nodded, “I don’t expect you to,” you said but looked just beyond Gojo’s shoulder back at your bedroom door unsure of what had happened. 

“Does this mean he had been in my room…” You said, your voice sounding unsure of your words as you said them. Your stomach twisted at the thought of it.

Gojo’s expression hardened, his jaw clenching as he turned to glance back at your room. There was a cold, dangerous glint in his eyes as he considered what Geto’s presence might mean. 

The thought of Geto lingering in your space, leaving traces of his cursed energy for you to stumble upon, was enough to set a low, simmering fury in his veins. His shoulders tensed, the very air around him thickening with a restrained power he fought to keep in check.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice a low murmur, barely hiding the rage that simmered beneath. “He was here, and not too long ago. This energy—it’s fresh.” 

His hand hovered at his side, clenched tightly as if resisting the urge to break something. 

His mind raced with the possibilities, the motives behind Geto’s actions. Geto wasn’t one for careless plans. 

Every move he made was precise, calculated, with a reason lurking in the shadows.

You swallowed hard, feeling a chill seep into your bones. The thought of Geto standing in your room, of his twisted, mocking presence lingering in the air you breathed, made your skin crawl. 

Gojo’s gaze softened as he looked at you, noticing the way your hands trembled slightly as you processed his words. 

His hand reached out instinctively, his fingers brushing against yours, grounding you, reminding you that he was here. 

His touch was warm and reassuring, and yet beneath it, you sensed a deeper tension, a protectiveness that bordered on desperation.

After a moment of silence, Gojo took a steadying breath, his hand releasing yours and being shoved into his front pockets before speaking.

“Jujutsu High isn’t safe for you anymore,” he said, his voice resolute.

The words came out sharper than he intended, but he didn’t soften them. 

“Not while he’s still out there, slipping past our defences like it’s nothing.” His eyes met yours, unwavering, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something—guilt, regret, a hint of the burden he carried. 

“I can’t watch him take anything else from me,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

Your heart hammered in your chest, a mixture of fear and emotion swirling within you. The thought of leaving Jujutsu High, of being uprooted from the only place you had found to be safe since losing your memory. But as you looked at Gojo, at the determination set in his features, you realized that this was more than just a decision for him. 

It was a promise, a duty he’d taken upon himself to keep you safe, no matter the cost.

“What… what do you mean?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper, searching his eyes for answers, for reassurance.

“I’m going to take you somewhere he can’t reach,” he said, his tone softened but unwavering. “Somewhere I know you’ll be safe. But we can’t waste any time.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle over you, the gravity of what lay ahead. There was an ache in your chest, a strange sense of finality, but beneath it all, you felt a glimmer of hope—a hope rooted in him, in his strength, his resolve.

“Pack a few things,” he murmured, his gaze holding yours for a moment longer, before finding his phone screen as he pulled it out of his pocket and began texting someone. “We’re leaving as soon as you’re ready.”

[bluesolarix]

scanned by me :)

[s7eraph]

[bluesolarix]

scanned by me :)

[simplygojo]

The Devil He Made Me - Ch. 10

Authors Note: YALL I'm sorry this took like 3 days longer than promised, life has been so chaotic, a good chaotic nonetheless, but that is why I am so behind. BUT FRET NOT!! I will get to as many requests as possible! All fluff fics will be completed after kinktober is over!

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/reader

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary : Tension lingers in the air as awkwardness builds between you and Gojo following his recent behavior. As you and the other students prepare for an afternoon training session with Nanami and Gojo, discussions about the threat of Mahito add to the unease. Amid the training, a moment of clumsy distraction leads you to an awkward encounter with Gojo, highlighting the strain between you both...

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: just some light angst, also not edited lol

Taglist: @mawhoreagaa; @peqch-pie; @blue-serendipity; @simplyyyuji; @starrnai; @sorcerersseestars; @n1vi; @angryglitterperfection; @krak-jj; @coweringbear; @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni; @cococola-cocaine; @sdv98o; @theendx888; @dvmb4ssbiatch; @sugxryratz; @kinny-away; @crankyarchives; @enfppuff; If you’d like to be added to the series tag list, leave a comment below:)

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The chill of Gojo’s words had not left you. They lingered, even days later, like a bruise just beneath your skin, tender and deep. Gojo's dismissal still echoed in your mind—a reminder that, no matter how close you thought you were to him, there was a line that you could not cross. 

His casual tone, the way he brushed off the intimacy that you knew the both of you felt, left you feeling exposed, your vulnerability laid bare. 

But something had shifted since that night. 

His presence had become even more constant, his gaze a fixture in every room you walked into, every training session you participated in. It wasn’t just that he was watching you—he was hovering, an unspoken concern woven into every action, every instruction. 

His protectiveness had become palpable, his interventions more frequent and increasingly unnecessary. It wasn’t long before the others started to notice.

The past few days had been... different. That was the only way you could describe it. 

There was a shift in the air around you, a tension that seemed to linger wherever you went, following you like a shadow. 

And no matter how hard you tried to brush it off, you couldn’t ignore the fact that things had become undeniably awkward with Gojo.

It wasn’t just you imagining it, either. You could feel the distance in the way he acted—like a thin, invisible wall had been placed between the two of you. 

He wasn’t outright avoiding you, but he had certainly pulled back. 

Gone were the teasing remarks that often made you roll your eyes, the casual touches on your shoulder or back, the unspoken familiarity that had become so easy. 

Now, his behavior was almost careful, measured, as if he were afraid to let something slip.

Even his jokes, though still light-hearted, felt more guarded, lacking the usual carefree tone.

You didn’t know if it was because of what he’d said that night after your nightmare, or the way he had held you so close when you’d awoken, comforting you in a way that had felt too intimate for even him. 

Whatever it was, there was an awkwardness between you now—an uncertainty that hadn’t been there before.

And it didn’t go unnoticed by the others. Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi had thrown a few questioning glances your way during the past couple of training sessions. 

Even Maki had seemed to pick up on it, shooting you an inquisitive look here and there. But none of them said anything directly. 

If they suspected something was going on, they kept their thoughts to themselves.

Today, however, the uneasiness seemed even more pronounced as the six of you gathered in the courtyard for a late afternoon training session. 

The sky was painted in warm hues of gold and pink, the sun dipping low over the horizon, casting long shadows across the open training field.

Nanami was already there waiting when you arrived, his expression as calm and stoic as ever, while Gojo leaned casually against a nearby tree, his sunglasses glinting in the fading sunlight.

Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, Maki, Inumaki, and yourself lined up in front of them, your expressions expectant. Today’s training had a different focus—one that made a knot tighten in your stomach as you thought about it. 

The topic was Mahito, the special-grade cursed spirit who had been a thorn in the side of Jujutsu sorcerers for far too long. 

Both Yuji and Nanami had faced him before, and today they would be sharing their experiences, giving you insight on how to fight a curse as dangerous as Mahito.

“All right,” Nanami began, his voice steady and calm as he looked over the group. 

“I know that most of you haven’t encountered Mahito before before this, and that’s fortunate. But given recent events, it’s crucial that you understand what kind of threat he poses.” He paused, his gaze shifting to Yuji. 

“Itadori and I have fought him before. Itadori, why don’t you start?”

Yuji stepped forward, his usual energy dampened by the gravity of the topic. His expression was serious as he glanced at all of you, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer. 

“Mahito’s cursed technique is really dangerous,” he began. “He can manipulate the shape of souls—his own, and other people’s. If he touches you, he can change your body’s form in an instant.” His voice tightened, the memory clearly difficult to revisit. 

“It’s not just painful, it’s... warping. You won’t be able to recognize yourself.”

Nobara frowned, her brows knitting together. “So, we just can’t let him touch us, then?”

Yuji nodded firmly. “Exactly. Even a single touch can be deadly.”

Nanami took over, his voice steady but carrying a weight that reflected his own experiences with the curse. 

“Mahito’s power makes him extremely difficult to fight up close. He’s not only skilled but also unpredictable. He can heal his body instantly, and the more you try to damage him, the more dangerous he becomes. There’s also the psychological aspect—he enjoys inflicting pain and suffering, both physically and mentally.”

There was a moment of silence as his words hung in the air, the seriousness of the situation settling over the group like a heavy blanket. 

You could feel your heartbeat quickening as you imagined what it would be like to face a curse like that, one that could alter your very form with just a touch.

Nanami’s gaze swept over the group once more. 

“When fighting Mahito, you have to maintain distance and keep your cursed energy defences up at all times. If you let your guard down for even a second, you’re putting yourself at risk.”

Gojo, who had remained quiet up until now, finally spoke. 

“He’s dangerous,” he said, his tone light but carrying an undercurrent of seriousness. 

“But it’s not impossible to beat him. You’ve got me, after all.” He gave a playful grin, but his usual spark seemed dimmer, and there was a stiffness in his posture as if he was forcing himself to appear unaffected.

His eyes briefly met yours, and for a moment, it felt like everything around you faded away. 

There was something unspoken there, a hint of the unresolved tension that had been simmering for days. But before you could even attempt to decipher it, he broke the gaze, turning his attention back to the group.

“Mahito may be powerful,” he continued ripping his gaze from you, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t outsmart him. Remember, he has a human-like mind. Use that to your advantage.”

Maki folded her arms over her chest, glancing between Gojo and Nanami. 

“So, that mean we need to work on keeping our distance and using long-range attacks.”

“Precisely,” Nanami replied with a curt nod. 

“Long-range attacks will reduce the risk of being touched, and maintaining your cursed energy as a barrier will help protect you. This training session will focus on those techniques.”

As Nanami began to detail the exercises you would all be running through, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of Gojo’s presence beside you, like a magnetic pull that you were struggling to ignore. 

The brief moment of eye contact had stirred something within you—a mix of confusion and longing that you hadn’t been able to shake off since that night.

The group dispersed to different areas of the field, each person preparing to begin the training exercises. 

You caught sight of Gojo out of the corner of your eye, his expression unreadable as he spoke quietly with Nanami. 

When their conversation ended, Gojo turned to face the rest of you, his mask of confidence slipping back into place as he offered a bright smile.

“Let’s get started, then,” he called out. “I want to see those long-range techniques at full power.”

As everyone prepared to begin, you positioned yourself a little distance away from the others, your mind still replaying the way Gojo’s gaze had softened when he’d looked at you, and how quickly he’d turned away afterward. 

It was clear that things were different between you now—strained, uncertain, and weighed down by unspoken words. 

And despite the training at hand, you couldn’t help but wonder if the distance you felt would ever truly fade, or if it would only continue to grow.

Lost in your thoughts, you moved to reset your position after an exercise, your feet carrying you across the courtyard with automatic steps. You didn’t realize how distracted you were until it was too late, and suddenly, you walked right into something solid—someone solid.

The moment of impact jarred you back to reality. 

You stumbled, instinctively reaching out to steady yourself, your hands gripping onto the familiar fabric of a uniform jacket. 

When you looked up, your breath caught in your throat as you found yourself inches away from Gojo’s chest. 

His scent—clean and faintly sweet—filled your senses, and you felt a flush creeping up your neck as your eyes met his.

Gojo’s arms had shot out to catch you as you bumped into him, and he was holding you steady, his grip gentle yet firm. 

For a second, you could see the surprise flicker across his features, and then his expression shifted—awkwardness filling the space between you like a palpable force. 

His usual confident composure seemed to falter, his grip loosening on your arms as if he wasn’t quite sure whether to let go or keep holding you upright.

“Whoa, careful there,” he said, his voice just a little too light, a little too forced. He released his hold on you quickly, almost as if your touch had burned him. 

“Distracted much?”

You took a hurried step back, your cheeks burning as you struggled to recover from the embarrassing stumble. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, not quite meeting his eyes hidden behind his round shades. 

“I wasn’t paying attention.”

He gave a small chuckle, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“It happens,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze flickered away. The usual ease in his voice was missing, replaced by a strained tone that only seemed to amplify the awkwardness of the moment.

The two of you stood there for a beat too long, the silence stretching between you. You could sense the tension in his posture, the way he seemed to be holding himself back—like he was afraid of saying something wrong or letting the moment slip into something deeper. 

It was a stark contrast to the Gojo you were used to—the one who was always so carefree, so sure of himself. But now, that confidence seemed to waver, replaced by something much more uncertain.

“I, uh, better get back to the group,” you said, breaking the silence. You took another step back, your heart still pounding in your chest. 

“Sorry again.”

Gojo’s expression softened, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. 

“No harm done,” he said, his voice regaining a bit of its usual playfulness. But the awkwardness was still there, lingering in the way he shoved his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

You quickly turned away, heading back toward the others with a mixture of embarrassment and confusion swirling inside you. 

As you resumed your position, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. 

Gojo was still standing there, watching you with an unreadable expression. When he noticed you looking, he turned away, running a hand through his hair and letting out a breath that seemed to carry more than just relief.

—

By the time you had all finished training it was late, the kind of late where silence hung heavy in the air, and the darkness outside seemed impenetrable. 

The faint glow of the moon spilled through the window, casting slanted shadows across your room. You’d fallen asleep, exhausted from the day’s training, the weight of your worries finally pressing you into a fitful rest.

But sleep did not bring peace.

The dream came slowly at first—a haze of indistinct shapes and muffled sounds, like being submerged underwater. 

You felt that familiar pull in your chest, the creeping chill that signalled the arrival of something darker, something lurking just beneath the surface. 

Then, with a suddenness that stole your breath, the shapes around you sharpened, and you were no longer in your bed but standing in a shadowed forest, the air thick with an oppressive presence.

Your pulse quickened as you stumbled forward, the dense fog parting enough to reveal the silhouette of a figure standing in the distance. 

There was an eerie familiarity about him, like a memory you couldn’t quite place. His face—oh, his face—was there and then gone, flickering in and out of clarity. 

You could see his eyes, dark and unyielding, boring into you as if peering straight through your very soul. The edges of his features twisted and blurred, refusing to solidify into something recognizable, and yet... you felt like you knew him.

“Who... who are you?” You gasped out, your voice trembling as you took a step back. The fog seemed to thicken around you, as though it were alive, clawing at your skin with icy tendrils.

He didn’t respond, didn’t move. 

But the energy radiating from him was unmistakable—heavy, suffocating, and blacker than night. It crawled toward you, seeping into the ground beneath your feet.

Panic surged through your veins as that cursed energy latched onto you, tightening around your limbs and chest like chains. 

The searing pain that followed was immediate and all-consuming, as though your very essence was being pulled apart thread by thread.

“No—stop!” you cried, your voice shattering the stillness. 

The figure’s face flickered again, coming closer, so close you could almost see the details, but not enough to give him a name. His lips curled into a cold, cruel smile, and suddenly you were falling—falling into an endless darkness, swallowed up by the very curse that was tearing you apart.

In the real world, your body was tense, trapped in the throes of your nightmare. Sweat beaded on your forehead as you tossed and turned, your breaths coming in ragged, desperate gasps.

From the hallway, Gojo heard your muffled cries. 

He had been on his way back to his own quarters when the sound reached him—a faint, broken sob that instantly sent a jolt of alarm through him. He didn’t hesitate. In an instant, he was at your door, throwing it open and rushing to your bedside.

“Y/n!” he called out, his voice firm but tinged with urgency. He reached out to shake your shoulder, but you didn’t stir. 

Your cries grew louder, more frantic, your body trembling as you fought against the unseen horrors in your dream.

“Y/n, wake up!” Gojo’s tone shifted, more desperate than before as he cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing over your damp cheeks in an attempt to pull you from the grip of the nightmare. 

“Come on, wake up!”

But it was as if you were locked away, trapped in that dark place where he couldn’t reach you. 

Your voice broke, a scream tearing from your throat as the figure in your dream reached out, his hand curling around your neck, squeezing with a force that stole the air from your lungs.

Gojo’s heart raced as he watched you writhe, your hands clawing at the air as if trying to fight off an invisible attacker. He tightened his hold on you, leaning closer as his own panic began to rise. 

“Y/n, it’s just a dream, you have to wake up!” His voice dropped to a softer tone, a rare tenderness breaking through his usual composure. “Please, wake up.”

As if his voice finally pierced through the darkness, you jolted awake with a sharp intake of breath, your eyes snapping open as though you’d been yanked from underwater. 

Your chest heaved with each ragged breath, and your vision swam as you struggled to ground yourself.

The moment awareness returned, so did the overwhelming terror. 

Your hands flew up to cover your face as you gasped for air, sobs tearing from your throat uncontrollably. You were shaking—deep, violent tremors that wracked your entire body, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to stop.

“Hey, hey...” Gojo’s voice was closer now, his hands gently prying yours away from your face so he could see you. “Breathe, y/n,” he murmured, the concern in his voice unmistakable. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

The sound of his voice, the warmth of his touch, started to break through the haze of panic, but it wasn’t enough to stem the tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“It was him,” you choked out between sobs, your voice trembling so badly you could hardly form the words. “I saw... his face. But it’s always slipping away, like I can’t—can’t remember it.”

Gojo pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a protective tightness.

“Oh Satoru it’s so real, it’s always so real,” you said, clinging to him like a lifeline, burying your face against his chest as you continued to cry, your tears soaking into his shirt. 

His hand moved soothingly along your back, his other hand gently cradling your head. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice low and steady as he tried to calm you. “You don’t have to remember it now. Just breathe.”

It took several long moments before your sobs began to subside, the comfort of his embrace slowly grounding you. 

You drew in a shaky breath, leaning into his touch as the last remnants of the nightmare faded from your mind. 

The warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek—it was enough to remind you that you were back in reality, that he was here, and that you weren’t alone.

When your breathing finally steadied, you lifted your head slightly, blinking away the lingering tears. It was then you realized just how close you were. 

Your face was still tucked against his chest, his arms encircling you as though he had no intention of letting go. The air around you seemed to grow thicker as the reality of the situation settled in.

Gojo’s breath hitched slightly, his gaze drifting down to meet yours. The sudden awareness of your proximity made his ears tinge with colour, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting his hold on you. 

“You, uh... sure you’re okay now?” His voice wavered, betraying the faintest hint of discomfort.

You nodded, quickly pulling back, wiping at your face with the back of your hand. 

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine... sorry,” you mumbled, the embarrassment creeping in to replace the fear. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” he said quickly, though he hesitated for a moment before stepping back and dropping his arms to his sides. His usual air of nonchalance seemed almost forced as he gave a lopsided grin. 

“I was just passing by, y’know? Lucky for you, I’m always around when you need me.”

“Right,” you murmured, your cheeks still flushed as you glanced away.

The silence between you stretched, growing increasingly awkward. Gojo rubbed the back of his neck, the tension evident in his posture. 

“Well, uh... I should probably let you get back to sleep,” he said, taking a step toward the door. “But if it happens again... don’t hesitate to call for me. I’ll come running.”

You offered a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Gojo.”

He flashed a brief, genuine smile in return before slipping out of your room, pulling the door shut behind him. 

As he walked back down the dim hallway, his thoughts lingered on the sight of your tear-streaked face, the way you’d clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. 

A part of him wanted to turn back, to stay just a little longer, but he forced himself to keep walking, his expression shifting back into its usual confident mask.

Back in your room, you sank back into the covers, your heart still racing from the nightmare. 

You could still feel the echo of his arms around you, the comfort of his presence, and for just a moment, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t facing this darkness alone.

—

It was after yet another training session, one where Gojo had cut in before you even had the chance to break a sweat, that you found yourself wandering aimlessly in the halls of Jujutsu High. 

Frustration simmered beneath your skin, the tightness in your chest a constant reminder of how little control you had over anything lately—not your cursed energy, not your training, and certainly not Gojo’s sudden shift in behavior.

As you turned a corner, you caught sight of Gojo and Nanami standing near the courtyard’s entrance. 

Their voices were low, but even at a distance, you could see the tension in the set of Nanami's shoulders, the way Gojo’s normally relaxed posture seemed just a bit too rigid. 

You hesitated, lingering just out of view, an unspoken need to know what was really going on between them keeping you rooted to the spot.

“Gojo, this isn’t like you,” Nanami’s voice carried, even in its quietness. There was a sharp edge to it, a concern buried beneath the layer of his usual composed tone. 

“You’ve been acting... different. Stressed, even.”

Gojo chuckled, a dry, humourless sound. 

“Stressed?” He echoed, tilting his head slightly as if considering the word for the first time.

“I didn’t think you noticed such things, Nanami. Maybe you’re finally starting to loosen up.”

Nanami’s expression didn’t shift; his gaze remained steady, unfazed by the attempt at deflection. 

“This isn’t a joke,” he said bluntly. “You’ve been stepping in more than necessary. It’s not like you to be this—” he paused, searching for the right word, “—overbearing.”

For a moment, there was a flicker of something in Gojo’s eyes—an unguarded glimpse of the strain he was under, as if the weight he carried had finally begun to crack his ever-present mask of calmness. 

His jaw tightened, and his usual casual demeanour slipped, just slightly, enough for even you to notice the change.

“She’s in danger,” Gojo replied, his voice dropping to a low, almost raw intensity. “More than any of you realize.”

Nanami’s brow furrowed, his skepticism evident. 

“We deal with danger all the time, Gojo. It’s our job. But you’re treating this like it’s something personal.”

“It is personal,” Gojo shot back, the words escaping before he could catch them. There was a fire in his gaze, a frustration that bordered on desperation. 

“Whatever’s happening to her, it’s not just some curse we can exorcise and move on from. Someone is pulling the strings, and they’re doing it right under our noses.”

Nanami’s eyes softened, the sternness in his expression giving way to a kind of resigned understanding. 

“And you’re afraid,” he stated, not as a question but as a fact, the truth behind Gojo's behaviour finally laid bare. “That’s why you’ve been hovering. Why you can’t keep your distance.”

Gojo’s silence spoke volumes. He looked away, his gaze drifting towards the courtyard where the students often gathered. The lightness in his usual stance was gone, replaced by a weight he couldn’t seem to shrug off. 

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he admitted quietly, almost as if confessing to himself. “And I can’t stand it.”

Nanami’s voice softened, though his words were firm. 

“You won’t be any help to her if you let this consume you. You’re not doing her any favours by trying to shoulder it all alone.” He paused, letting the weight of his advice settle. 

“You need to trust that she’s strong enough to fight this too. Otherwise, you’re just keeping her in a cage.”

Gojo’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze lingering on the courtyard for a moment longer before he finally turned back to face Nanami. 

“I know,” he said, though his voice was strained. “But knowing that and letting go are two different things.”

Gojo glanced back toward the direction of the training grounds, where you were surely still within earshot. 

His gaze softened, the tension around his eyes easing just enough to show a flicker of the concern he held so tightly in check. 

The usual sparkle in his eyes seemed dulled, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down harder than usual. 

His shoulders slumped slightly, betraying the exhaustion he had been trying to hide behind his casual demeanour. 

“I rejected her,” he said, his voice strained, as if the admission was a stone he had been carrying for far too long. 

“I thought… if I could push her away, keep some kind of distance, it would protect her—and me. That maybe if I didn’t let myself get emotionally involved, I could handle all of this better.”

Nanami watched him, his expression unyielding yet tempered with understanding. 

“You thought that keeping her at arm’s length would make it easier,” he said, his voice steady. “But it hasn’t, has it?”

Gojo shook his head slowly, the familiar mask of arrogance slipping away, leaving him vulnerable. 

“No,” he admitted, a bitter laugh escaping him. “If anything, it’s only made things worse. It’s like… no matter how much I try to shove my feelings aside; they keep finding their way back to her. She’s in my head—everywhere I look, I’m thinking about what might happen to her, and how I can stop it.”

Nanami’s brows drew together in quiet contemplation as he took a step closer to Gojo, his tone even. 

“It sounds to me like it’s too late to pretend you’re not emotionally involved,” he said, the weight of the words settling heavily in the air. 

“You already are, whether you want to admit it or not. The way you’re acting—the overprotectiveness, the constant hovering—it’s not just concern, Gojo...”

The words seemed to pierce through Gojo, who glanced away, his jaw clenching as he struggled with the truth laid bare before him. 

“I know,” he whispered, the confession rough at the edges. “But what good is caring if it just makes me hesitate? If it gets her hurt?”

Nanami let out a quiet breath, his gaze steady on Gojo’s tense form. 

“Ignoring your feelings won’t make them go away,” he said, his voice firm yet calm. 

“And it certainly won’t help her. If anything—it’s clouding your judgment. You’ve been so focused on trying not to care that you’re missing the bigger picture. Is it really worth pretending that you don’t give a damn just to protect yourself?”

Gojo’s expression tightened, the conflict within him clear in the way his hand clenched into a fist at his side. 

“I’m not trying to protect myself,” he argued, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “I just… I don’t know if I can handle it if something happens to her. I don’t know how to fix this, Nanami.”

Nanami’s voice softened as he placed a hand on Gojo’s shoulder, an uncommon gesture of support from the typically reserved man. 

“We all know you want to help her,” he said. “But you can’t help her if you’re constantly trying to put walls between the two of you. You need to let her in, trust her strength as much as you expect her to trust yours.”

Gojo’s gaze softened as he glanced back toward the training grounds, his eyes tracing the path you had taken moments earlier. 

“She doesn’t know how much I need her to be okay,” he murmured, the quiet confession barely audible.

“Then let her see it,” Nanami replied, his tone unwavering as he took a step back. “Before it’s too late.”

With that, Nanami turned away and walked back down the hall, leaving Gojo standing there, grappling with the full weight of his emotions for the first time in a long while. 

Gojo let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his fingers flexing into fists before releasing again, tension rippling through his posture. 

He stared at the empty space where Nanami had just been, his words echoing in his mind like an unrelenting mantra. 

He didn’t know how to show you what he was feeling—not when he was so used to hiding behind a veil of jokes and a devil-may-care attitude. Not when showing you would mean admitting, even to himself, just how deep he had already let you in.

With a frustrated sigh, he shoved his hands into his pockets and took a step forward, then another, as if motion itself could somehow dispel the unrest stirring within him. 

Unbeknownst to him, you were still there, tucked away around the corner, holding your breath as you had listened to every word. 

You had stopped in your tracks earlier when you heard Nanami and Gojo’s voices, intending to turn around before they saw you. 

But the moment Gojo had begun to speak—when his tone dropped from its usual playful timbre to something raw and unguarded—you hadn’t been able to move. It was as if your feet had become rooted to the floor, as if some part of you had known that what you were about to hear would be something you weren’t meant to know.

You held your breath as Gojo came into view, and for a moment, you were struck by how different he seemed—his usual careless confidence replaced by something that looked almost like defeat. 

His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were focused somewhere distant, his expression troubled in a way that you had never seen on him before.

But as he walked further down the hall, something shifted. 

The frustration seemed to catch up to him, and he suddenly stopped, his hands leaving his pockets as he ran them roughly through his hair. 

The small, restless motion betrayed the agitation simmering beneath his calm exterior, and it was enough to make your chest tighten with an unexpected ache.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was about seeing him like this—unravelled and unguarded—that hit you so deeply. 

Perhaps it was because, in that moment, you understood just how much he had been holding back, how hard he had been trying to keep everything together. 

Or maybe it was because you realized, with startling clarity, that you weren’t the only one struggling to navigate the distance between you.

As Gojo’s shoulders sagged slightly in resignation, he took a few more steps down the hall before stopping again. 

He turned his head ever so slightly, almost as if he could sense someone watching, and your breath hitched in your throat as you quickly pressed yourself back against the wall, out of sight. 

You could hear the frustration in the exhale he let out, a low, weary sound that cut through the silence.

Without another word, Gojo resumed walking, his pace a little faster this time, like he was trying to escape the emotions that had been left hanging in the air.

You waited until the sound of his footsteps faded completely before you dared to move, your heart pounding in your chest as the weight of what you had just heard settled over you.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, staring at the empty hallway and trying to piece together the meaning behind Gojo’s confession. 

But one thing was clear: whatever wall he had put up between the two of you, it was beginning to crumble, and it terrified you just as much as it comforted you.

[aechlys]

Beautiful.

[simplygojo]

The Devil He Made Me - Ch. 9

Authors Note: After a long break (due to me being violently ill for 2 weeks) I have finally finished chapter 9!! Please enjoy and lmk how you feelllll, LUVE YOU ALL

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/reader

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary : Tensions rise after Gojo faces the higher-ups and y/n’s fate hangs in the balance. With unsettling revelations emerging, Gojo is determined to protect y/n at all costs—even as it challenges his own resolve. Amid the turmoil, secrets come to light that could change everything, leaving Gojo wrestling with his own emotions, and how to deal with them after his and y/n's moment...

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: noneee

Taglist: @mawhoreagaa; @peqch-pie; @blue-serendipity; @simplyyyuji; @starrnai; @sorcerersseestars; @n1vi; @angryglitterperfection; @krak-jj; @coweringbear; @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni; @cococola-cocaine; @sdv98o; @theendx888; @dvmb4ssbiatch; @sugxryratz; @kinny-away; @crankyarchives; @enfppuff; If you’d like to be added to the series tag list, leave a comment below:)

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Gojo strolled back into the room where Itadori and Nobara were waiting, his usual carefree expression back in place, as if he hadn’t just threatened the higher-ups a few moments ago. 

His gaze swept across the room, noticing your absence. One brow arched slightly in curiosity.

"Well, well," he said casually, as if he were returning from a leisurely walk instead of an intense confrontation. 

"Looks like I missed something. Where’s y/n?"

Itadori scratched the back of his head, his grin a little too wide. 

"Uh, well… She kind of ran off. Looked pretty embarrassed, actually."

Gojo’s lips curved into a smirk, though his eyes sharpened with interest. 

"Embarrassed, huh? I wonder what that’s about."

Before Itadori could say anything more, Nobara jumped in with a teasing edge to her voice. 

"Oh, come on, Gojo-sensei. You know exactly why. That whole intense-stare-thing… You guys were practically glued together before you left. She couldn’t handle your ‘charm.’"

"Wow," Gojo responded dryly, placing a hand on his hip.

 "I didn’t realize I’d become a hot topic among my own students. I’m flattered, really." His gaze flicked toward the door where you had disappeared, a flicker of something unspoken in his eyes. 

"Anyway, I’ve got some news for you. The execution's off."

Itadori and Nobara’s faces lit up with relief. Nobara crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. 

"Wait, so… did you threaten to kill them or something?"

Gojo’s smirk widened, a mischievous glint in his eye. 

"Somethin’ like that," he said, his tone nonchalant as though he hadn’t just put his career on the line.

Itadori let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

“That’s a relief,” Gojo said, glancing at Nobara with a smirk. “Guess that means no more secret meetings.”

Nobara crossed her arms, eyeing him critically. 

“Yeah, well, now she’s probably off somewhere freaking out,” she retorted, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“I wonder who could've caused that?”

As Gojo turned to leave, Nobara called after him with a teasing tone, 

“Try not to scare her off again, sensei! She’s not like your fangirls, you know?”

He paused, throwing a glance back over his shoulder, his grin widening. 

“Didn’t you two scare her off with your teasing?” He quipped, arching an eyebrow. 

Without waiting for a response, Gojo headed down the corridor, his grin lingering. 

But as he walked away, a flicker of concern danced behind his usual carefree demeanour. Protecting you wasn’t just a duty anymore—it was starting to feel personal. And that was making things more complicated than he was willing to admit.

—

As Gojo wandered down the corridor, he tried to push away the memory of your kiss, but it kept resurfacing, unbidden. 

His mind replayed the moment: the way you had looked up at him with a mix of surprise and something else in your eyes that had drawn him in. 

He could still feel the lingering warmth of your lips against his, the way his hand had tightened in your hair as if afraid to let you go.

For just a second, he felt his cheeks warm up at the thought, and irritation flickered in his chest. Stop thinking about it, he told himself sternly. 

It was just a kiss—nothing he couldn’t handle. He wasn’t some lovestruck teenager…But the way your eyes had lingered on his, the way his pulse had quickened... it had felt different.

He forced himself to focus. 

He had more pressing concerns than a moment of weakness. He needed to find you, and then he needed to get some answers about the cursed energy inside you. 

There were still too many questions, and until he got them resolved, he couldn’t afford to let his emotions get in the way.

—

Gojo wandered across the grounds, searching for you when he spotted Shoko near the infirmary. She held a stack of papers, clearly containing the results of her latest findings.

"Shoko," he greeted, keeping his voice casual though his eyes were already assessing her expression. 

"What's the verdict? You got something for me?"

She nodded slowly, holding up the documents as if presenting evidence. 

"I do, but you’re not going to like it," she began, her tone calm but with an undertone of concern. 

"I've been running tests on y/n's cursed energy. The results confirm what I suspected... The dark cursed energy she released isn’t naturally hers."

Gojo’s easygoing demeanour dropped in an instant, his eyes narrowing. 

"You mean to say someone put it there?" His voice was steady, but a dangerous edge lurked beneath it.

"There’s no other explanation,” Shoko replied, her brow furrowed in thought. 

“It doesn’t resemble anything like a curse born from her emotions or trauma. It behaves like a foreign entity—an implanted cursed energy. And not just any kind… It’s layered, intricate, like whoever did this took their time to ensure it blended in, at least until something triggered it."

Gojo's jaw tightened, his thoughts racing as he processed what she was saying. 

"So someone intentionally implanted this cursed energy into her, knowing it would lay dormant until the right moment?"

Shoko sighed and nodded. "It looks that way. There’s no trace of it interacting with her own energy in a typical way. It’s almost like a curse or a technique with a purpose of its own. Whoever did this had a goal in mind." 

Her eyes met his, and for a moment, they softened. 

Gojo's fingers flexed at his sides as a wave of protectiveness surged through him. 

"Do you think she’s cursed?" He asked, his voice rougher than usual.

Shoko tilted her head, considering her answer. 

"If she is, it’s unlike any case I’ve ever seen. Cursed objects or implanted techniques tend to cause a direct, ongoing influence. This is more like… a trap, lying in wait. My gut tells me it’s something else. The energy doesn’t feel like it’s trying to take over her; it’s more like it’s programmed to act under certain conditions."

“So, you’re saying someone’s using her like some kind of weapon?” Gojo’s voice dropped, a mix of frustration and anger leaking through.

"Possibly," Shoko said quietly. 

"But we don’t know why, or who could be behind it. Not yet. What’s clear is that it wasn’t by chance—it’s deliberate. And that means we’re dealing with someone who knows how to work around even the most secure barriers."

Gojo's eyes darkened, a dangerous glint flashing through them. 

"I'll make sure they regret it." He exhaled sharply, shoving his hands into his pockets. “But first, I need to figure out how to help her. There’s no way I’m letting them get away with this.”

Shoko placed a hand on his shoulder, her expression softening. 

“Satoru, we don’t even know what’s going on yet, the only thing my assessments confirmed was that this energy was placed in her.”

He took a moment, allowing the weight of her words to settle. 

“I can’t lose her, Shoko. Not to this. She’s been through enough, and I won’t let her feel any more pain than she has to. Promise me you’ll keep this between us for now.”

Shoko’s brow furrowed slightly, skepticism flickering in her eyes. 

“You know I can’t keep everything from her. She deserves to know what’s happening inside her.”

“Not yet,” he insisted, his voice firm but low, the urgency evident. 

“If she knows about the dark energy, it might only add to her stress. Let me handle it until we understand more. Just… keep your findings to yourself, especially from her.”

Her sigh was heavy, resignation threading through her tone. 

“Fine. But I won’t let you go down this path alone. If things change, I want to know. She’s still my patient, after all.”

Gojo nodded, the weight of his resolve settling back onto his shoulders as he turned to leave, a shadow of concern still lingering in his eyes. He knew he was walking a fine line, and as much as he didn’t want to lie to you, the thought of you carrying the burden of this secret was unbearable.

As he stepped out of the infirmary, the fading sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow that felt both comforting and misleading. 

He couldn’t shake the feeling that the calm was merely a prelude to the storm ahead, and he was determined to shield you from it for as long as possible.

—

After Shoko left, Gojo found himself wandering the grounds in a daze. Her words echoed in his mind, intertwining with the unease that had settled deep in his chest.

You were being used. Someone had turned you into a pawn in their twisted game, manipulating you from the shadows. 

It infuriated him, made him want to tear apart anyone who had dared to lay a hand on you. But anger wasn’t going to solve anything—it was just a reaction, a mask over his real fear: that he might not be able to protect you.

His fists clenched at his sides as the kiss you shared replayed in his mind, unbidden. 

The way you had looked at him, the softness of your lips, the brief, raw connection. It had felt right in that moment, like something he’d been craving without realizing it.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? 

He had let himself get carried away by his feelings—by whatever had been stirring inside him since the day he found you. 

He had kissed you–allowed himself to indulge in that moment, when he should have been focusing on what truly mattered: keeping you safe.

What was he doing, letting emotions cloud his judgment? 

You were in danger, and he had no time to be distracted by… whatever this was between you. 

It wasn’t fair to you, either. He couldn’t risk pulling you closer when the threat surrounding you was still out there, lurking in the dark. It was irresponsible. Selfish, even.

His jaw tightened as he forced himself to face the truth. Letting himself kiss you had been a mistake—one he wouldn’t allow to happen again. 

He needed to suppress whatever he was feeling, shut it down, and lock it away. You needed someone who could be level-headed and determined to protect you, not someone who was getting lost in feelings he didn’t even know how to define.

“I’m done with that,” he whispered to himself, the words hanging heavy in the air. “No more distractions.”

It was his job to keep you safe, and he was done letting his own desires get in the way. There was no room for weakness, and no room for mistakes.

With a deep breath, he straightened his posture. He would find you and explain the situation, make sure you were prepared for whatever might come next. 

But that was all. There would be no more moments of tenderness, no more blurred lines. He would be your protector, your mentor—nothing more.

The kiss had to be the last time. And he would make sure it was.

—

As Gojo walked down the hallway, his thoughts drifted back to that moment he had been trying so hard to push away. 

Despite his determination to move on, the memory of your kiss came flooding back, as vivid as if it had just happened.

He could still feel the warmth of your lips on his, the way you had leaned into him, a mix of surprise and something deeper in your eyes that had pulled him in. 

His hand had rested on the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as if holding you there, afraid to let go. 

It wasn’t just the kiss itself; it was the way everything seemed to fall away—the weight of his responsibilities, the chaos of the world—leaving only you and him in that moment.

For just a second, as he recalled it, he felt his cheeks heat up—a rare blush creeping over his face that he hadn’t expected. 

It wasn’t like him to get flustered, and yet there he was, reliving the sensation of your lips brushing against his, your breath mixing with his, the rapid thump of his own heartbeat as he pulled you closer. 

The feeling had been electrifying, overwhelming in a way he hadn’t experienced in years.

A sudden irritation rose in his chest as he shook his head, scolding himself. 

Stop thinking about it, he ordered silently. 

He wasn’t some teenager caught up in his first crush—he was Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive. There was no time for him to be losing composure over something as trivial as a kiss.

But even as he tried to push the memory away, a small part of him couldn’t help but linger on it. 

The way you had looked at him afterward, breathless and wide-eyed, had stirred something unfamiliar inside him—something he didn’t quite know how to name. 

It wasn’t just desire or affection; it was a need to protect, to shield you from whatever was coming. And, as much as he hated to admit it, the kiss had made him feel… vulnerable.

He took a sharp breath, trying to snap himself out of it. 

His cheeks still felt warm, though he hoped it was just from walking quickly. There was no use dwelling on something that had already happened. 

He needed to stay focused on what really mattered—finding out who had implanted that cursed energy in you and ensuring you were safe.

That kiss didn’t mean anything, he told himself again, though the faint sting in his chest argued otherwise. 

And with that, he pushed the memory back, forcing his thoughts to harden, to bury whatever softness he had allowed himself to feel.

He had made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t let it happen again, and he intended to keep it. 

No more letting his guard down. There was too much at stake. 

You were at stake.

—

You walked down the dimly lit corridor, your footsteps echoing softly in the quiet as you made your way back to your room. 

The encounter with Nobara and Itadori replayed in your mind, but it kept getting overshadowed by something else—something that had your pulse racing and your skin tingling.

The kiss.

The moment you thought of Gojo’s lips on yours, your breath hitched. 

The memory of him pulling you closer was still vivid, his fingers weaving into your hair and applying just enough pressure to send a shiver racing down your spine.

That slight tug had drawn a soft gasp from your lips, and in that instant, his tongue slipped into your mouth, the memory of it made you breathless yet again.

You could still feel the faint sensation of him groaning against your lips, a low sound that seemed to vibrate through you, making the kiss all the more intoxicating.

You swallowed hard, your fingers brushing against your own lips as if trying to recapture the intensity of it. 

It had been consuming—like the rest of the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you in that moment. 

The heat of his body against yours, the way his hands had roamed as if memorizing every curve, every breath—it had felt like you were falling into something deeper than just a kiss.

Was it possible that you had feelings for him, more than just the admiration you felt as his student? 

The way you had melted into his touch, how your heart had skipped a beat with every movement of his lips—it was becoming undeniable. 

Whatever you felt for Gojo wasn’t as simple as you had once thought.

You reached your door, your fingers trembling slightly as you turned the knob. 

Once inside, you closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The room was dark, the faint moonlight streaming through the window casting silver lines across the floor. 

But even in the darkness, the phantom touch of his hands on you lingered, the taste of him still fresh on your tongue.

Your chest tightened as your thoughts kept drifting back to him. 

His playful grin, the teasing tone of his voice, the rare moments when his blue eyes softened into something almost tender. 

There was a magnetic pull to him, something about him that was becoming more than just captivating—it was starting to feel personal, intimate in a way you hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.

You couldn’t deny it anymore. 

You had feelings for him—feelings that were far more complex, far deeper than you had ever intended to let yourself feel. 

And now, after that kiss, they were impossible to ignore.

—

Gojo stood outside your door, his hand raised, ready to knock. 

He could sense you on the other side, your cursed energy a soft, familiar presence just beyond the wooden barrier. 

He stared at the door, his expression unusually serious as the memory of the kiss flickered in his mind. 

He could still feel the way you had responded to him, the heat of your body pressed against his, the sound of your breath mingling with his own. 

His cheeks grew warm, and he quickly pushed the thought aside, frustrated by the effect it had on him.

He hesitated, his hand still poised to knock. 

The kiss had been a mistake—he knew that now. 

It had only complicated things, and you probably needed space after everything that had happened today. He sighed, lowering his hand.

"It’s late," he muttered to himself, stepping back from the door. 

"I’ll talk to her tomorrow."

With that, he turned and walked down the corridor, leaving behind the conversation that would have to wait for another day.

—

The morning sunlight spilled across the halls of Jujutsu High, bathing the corridor in a golden glow. 

You could feel its gentle warmth seeping into your skin, but nothing could compare to the lingering warmth from last night—when Gojo's lips had moved against yours and his hands had gripped you with a mixture of need and tenderness. 

The memory sent a shiver down your spine, making your pulse quicken as a smile tugged at your lips. 

You replayed the moment over and over again, the way he had pulled you closer, his breath mixing with yours as if he was afraid to let you go. 

There was no denying it anymore; you were looking forward to seeing him again today.

As you rounded the corner on your way to the common area, you nearly collided with someone blocking your path. 

Startled, you looked up, and your breath caught in your throat. Standing there was Gojo, his familiar grin spreading across his lips. 

But something about it seemed off—it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey, Satoru,” you greeted, your voice soft, carrying a warmth that seemed to cut through the distance between you. 

Saying his name felt right, natural, like a promise that hung in the air between you. But as soon as the words left your lips, his eyes flickered, and you saw it—that pang of something in his gaze, a hesitation he quickly buried.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice rougher than usual, as if he was forcing himself to stay detached. 

“We need to talk.”

The brightness in your eyes faded, replaced by a thread of confusion. 

“Oh…?” You asked cautiously, the hope in your chest wavering.

He took a step back, as if creating more physical distance would help keep the conversation from crossing the line he had already breached.

“About last night,” he said, the casual tone in his voice gone, replaced by something colder. 

The mention of it sent a jolt through you, your cheeks flushing at the memory. 

“What about it?” you asked, your voice small.

“It was a mistake,” he stated bluntly, the words like a blade slicing through the air. 

“I shouldn’t have done that. It was completely out of line.”

You stared at him, your heart thudding painfully in your chest. 

"Out of line?" You echoed, barely able to find your voice, "I… I didn’t think it was.”

“Well, it was,” he shot back, the harshness in his tone almost startling. He didn’t soften his gaze, didn’t try to sugarcoat it—he needed to shut this down before the situation spiralled further out of control. 

“I’m your teacher, y/n. I’m supposed to be guiding you, protecting you—not… confusing you with things like that.”

The word "teacher" stung, like he was deliberately trying to widen the gap between you, using it as a barrier to push you away. Your chest tightened with hurt and frustration.

“Teacher?” You snapped, a spark of anger flaring in your eyes. 

“That’s a bullshit excuse, Satoru, and you know it.”

His expression hardened, his jaw tightening. 

“It’s not an excuse,” he insisted, voice low and edged with a warning. 

“It’s the reality. You’re my responsibility, and I crossed a line. It was a lapse in judgment, nothing more.”

You shook your head, disbelief colouring your features as you stepped closer to him, refusing to let the distance grow. 

“It didn’t feel like a lapse,” you argued, your voice rising despite the lump forming in your throat. “You’re acting like you didn’t mean it, like it didn’t mean anything.”

He clenched his teeth, his hands curling into fists at his sides as if fighting to stay in control. 

“Well, maybe I didn’t mean it,” he said, the flatness of his tone a stark contrast to the intensity in his eyes. 

“And it won’t happen again.” His words felt like a wall slamming down between you, closing you out with brutal finality.

The anger bled away, replaced by a hollow ache that gnawed at your insides. You shook your head, the disappointment clawing its way to the surface. 

“Then why did you look at me like you meant it?” You whispered, the question escaping before you could stop it.

He hesitated, his eyes widening, as if you had struck something inside him. He then exhaled sharply, his expression unreadable. 

“It doesn’t matter now,” he said, his voice a touch quieter than before, almost regretful. “I need to focu—”

“What do you need to focus on?” you interrupted, your tone sharpening with suspicion. “What aren’t you telling me?”

His jaw clenched, and for a heartbeat, something unspoken flickered in his eyes—an emotion too swift to name before it was buried behind his usual confidence. 

He took a step back, the distance between you widening as if he was retreating from the confrontation.

“You’re reading into things,” he replied curtly, his voice steady. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Don’t lie to me, Satoru,” you shot back, taking a step toward him, unwilling to let the space grow wider. 

“I can see it in your eyes. You know something. Is it about the cursed energy Shoko found?”

His expression hardened, the flicker of surprise at her name quickly masked by a cool indifference.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his tone firm and unyielding. “Shoko didn’t find anything unusual, not anything worth worrying about.”

The words hung in the air, a brittle barrier between you that did nothing to ease the weight pressing against your chest. 

There was a quiet resolve in his voice, as if he had already convinced himself that withholding the truth was somehow justified.

He let out a sigh, his shoulders falling just slightly. 

“Y/n, don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he murmured, almost like a plea. “I’m not going to complicate things. I can’t.”

You felt your throat tighten, the hurt squeezing your chest as you met his gaze one last time. 

“Fine,” you breathed, unable to keep the bitterness from your voice. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s for the best,” he replied, and god he hated how rehearsed it sounded, as though he had convinced himself of the lie. 

He didn’t give you a chance to say anything else before turning on his heel, his retreating figure disappearing down the hall.

You stood there, staring after him, the empty corridor suddenly feeling much colder. 

Outside, the sunlight continued to spill into the common area, but it no longer seemed to reach you. It felt distant and cold, a reminder of the warmth that had been stolen away by the gap Satoru insisted on creating. 

You watched his retreating figure, the hurt crashed over you in waves, relentless and consuming, as if a tide of disappointment had swept through the corridor, erasing the warmth that had felt so real just moments ago.

Your breath hitched as the weight of his words pressed down on you, the gravity of his rejection settling deep in your chest. 

You couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something from you, something important enough to justify his actions. 

Whatever light had illuminated your heart was extinguishing, fading like the remnants of a dream upon waking. 

The ache in your chest deepened, and the pit in your stomach twisted tighter, gnawing at you with the knowledge that he decided to suddenly push you away, whatever the reason may be.

[akirag3]

One year already...

Rest in peace. I love you, with all my heart.

[simplygojo]

The Devil He Made Me - Ch. 9

Authors Note: After a long break (due to me being violently ill for 2 weeks) I have finally finished chapter 9!! Please enjoy and lmk how you feelllll, LUVE YOU ALL

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/reader

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary : Tensions rise after Gojo faces the higher-ups and y/n’s fate hangs in the balance. With unsettling revelations emerging, Gojo is determined to protect y/n at all costs—even as it challenges his own resolve. Amid the turmoil, secrets come to light that could change everything, leaving Gojo wrestling with his own emotions, and how to deal with them after his and y/n's moment...

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: noneee

Taglist: @mawhoreagaa; @peqch-pie; @blue-serendipity; @simplyyyuji; @starrnai; @sorcerersseestars; @n1vi; @angryglitterperfection; @krak-jj; @coweringbear; @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni; @cococola-cocaine; @sdv98o; @theendx888; @dvmb4ssbiatch; @sugxryratz; @kinny-away; @crankyarchives; @enfppuff; If you’d like to be added to the series tag list, leave a comment below:)

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Gojo strolled back into the room where Itadori and Nobara were waiting, his usual carefree expression back in place, as if he hadn’t just threatened the higher-ups a few moments ago. 

His gaze swept across the room, noticing your absence. One brow arched slightly in curiosity.

"Well, well," he said casually, as if he were returning from a leisurely walk instead of an intense confrontation. 

"Looks like I missed something. Where’s y/n?"

Itadori scratched the back of his head, his grin a little too wide. 

"Uh, well… She kind of ran off. Looked pretty embarrassed, actually."

Gojo’s lips curved into a smirk, though his eyes sharpened with interest. 

"Embarrassed, huh? I wonder what that’s about."

Before Itadori could say anything more, Nobara jumped in with a teasing edge to her voice. 

"Oh, come on, Gojo-sensei. You know exactly why. That whole intense-stare-thing… You guys were practically glued together before you left. She couldn’t handle your ‘charm.’"

"Wow," Gojo responded dryly, placing a hand on his hip.

 "I didn’t realize I’d become a hot topic among my own students. I’m flattered, really." His gaze flicked toward the door where you had disappeared, a flicker of something unspoken in his eyes. 

"Anyway, I’ve got some news for you. The execution's off."

Itadori and Nobara’s faces lit up with relief. Nobara crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. 

"Wait, so… did you threaten to kill them or something?"

Gojo’s smirk widened, a mischievous glint in his eye. 

"Somethin’ like that," he said, his tone nonchalant as though he hadn’t just put his career on the line.

Itadori let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

“That’s a relief,” Gojo said, glancing at Nobara with a smirk. “Guess that means no more secret meetings.”

Nobara crossed her arms, eyeing him critically. 

“Yeah, well, now she’s probably off somewhere freaking out,” she retorted, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“I wonder who could've caused that?”

As Gojo turned to leave, Nobara called after him with a teasing tone, 

“Try not to scare her off again, sensei! She’s not like your fangirls, you know?”

He paused, throwing a glance back over his shoulder, his grin widening. 

“Didn’t you two scare her off with your teasing?” He quipped, arching an eyebrow. 

Without waiting for a response, Gojo headed down the corridor, his grin lingering. 

But as he walked away, a flicker of concern danced behind his usual carefree demeanour. Protecting you wasn’t just a duty anymore—it was starting to feel personal. And that was making things more complicated than he was willing to admit.

—

As Gojo wandered down the corridor, he tried to push away the memory of your kiss, but it kept resurfacing, unbidden. 

His mind replayed the moment: the way you had looked up at him with a mix of surprise and something else in your eyes that had drawn him in. 

He could still feel the lingering warmth of your lips against his, the way his hand had tightened in your hair as if afraid to let you go.

For just a second, he felt his cheeks warm up at the thought, and irritation flickered in his chest. Stop thinking about it, he told himself sternly. 

It was just a kiss—nothing he couldn’t handle. He wasn’t some lovestruck teenager…But the way your eyes had lingered on his, the way his pulse had quickened... it had felt different.

He forced himself to focus. 

He had more pressing concerns than a moment of weakness. He needed to find you, and then he needed to get some answers about the cursed energy inside you. 

There were still too many questions, and until he got them resolved, he couldn’t afford to let his emotions get in the way.

—

Gojo wandered across the grounds, searching for you when he spotted Shoko near the infirmary. She held a stack of papers, clearly containing the results of her latest findings.

"Shoko," he greeted, keeping his voice casual though his eyes were already assessing her expression. 

"What's the verdict? You got something for me?"

She nodded slowly, holding up the documents as if presenting evidence. 

"I do, but you’re not going to like it," she began, her tone calm but with an undertone of concern. 

"I've been running tests on y/n's cursed energy. The results confirm what I suspected... The dark cursed energy she released isn’t naturally hers."

Gojo’s easygoing demeanour dropped in an instant, his eyes narrowing. 

"You mean to say someone put it there?" His voice was steady, but a dangerous edge lurked beneath it.

"There’s no other explanation,” Shoko replied, her brow furrowed in thought. 

“It doesn’t resemble anything like a curse born from her emotions or trauma. It behaves like a foreign entity—an implanted cursed energy. And not just any kind… It’s layered, intricate, like whoever did this took their time to ensure it blended in, at least until something triggered it."

Gojo's jaw tightened, his thoughts racing as he processed what she was saying. 

"So someone intentionally implanted this cursed energy into her, knowing it would lay dormant until the right moment?"

Shoko sighed and nodded. "It looks that way. There’s no trace of it interacting with her own energy in a typical way. It’s almost like a curse or a technique with a purpose of its own. Whoever did this had a goal in mind." 

Her eyes met his, and for a moment, they softened. 

Gojo's fingers flexed at his sides as a wave of protectiveness surged through him. 

"Do you think she’s cursed?" He asked, his voice rougher than usual.

Shoko tilted her head, considering her answer. 

"If she is, it’s unlike any case I’ve ever seen. Cursed objects or implanted techniques tend to cause a direct, ongoing influence. This is more like… a trap, lying in wait. My gut tells me it’s something else. The energy doesn’t feel like it’s trying to take over her; it’s more like it’s programmed to act under certain conditions."

“So, you’re saying someone’s using her like some kind of weapon?” Gojo’s voice dropped, a mix of frustration and anger leaking through.

"Possibly," Shoko said quietly. 

"But we don’t know why, or who could be behind it. Not yet. What’s clear is that it wasn’t by chance—it’s deliberate. And that means we’re dealing with someone who knows how to work around even the most secure barriers."

Gojo's eyes darkened, a dangerous glint flashing through them. 

"I'll make sure they regret it." He exhaled sharply, shoving his hands into his pockets. “But first, I need to figure out how to help her. There’s no way I’m letting them get away with this.”

Shoko placed a hand on his shoulder, her expression softening. 

“Satoru, we don’t even know what’s going on yet, the only thing my assessments confirmed was that this energy was placed in her.”

He took a moment, allowing the weight of her words to settle. 

“I can’t lose her, Shoko. Not to this. She’s been through enough, and I won’t let her feel any more pain than she has to. Promise me you’ll keep this between us for now.”

Shoko’s brow furrowed slightly, skepticism flickering in her eyes. 

“You know I can’t keep everything from her. She deserves to know what’s happening inside her.”

“Not yet,” he insisted, his voice firm but low, the urgency evident. 

“If she knows about the dark energy, it might only add to her stress. Let me handle it until we understand more. Just… keep your findings to yourself, especially from her.”

Her sigh was heavy, resignation threading through her tone. 

“Fine. But I won’t let you go down this path alone. If things change, I want to know. She’s still my patient, after all.”

Gojo nodded, the weight of his resolve settling back onto his shoulders as he turned to leave, a shadow of concern still lingering in his eyes. He knew he was walking a fine line, and as much as he didn’t want to lie to you, the thought of you carrying the burden of this secret was unbearable.

As he stepped out of the infirmary, the fading sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow that felt both comforting and misleading. 

He couldn’t shake the feeling that the calm was merely a prelude to the storm ahead, and he was determined to shield you from it for as long as possible.

—

After Shoko left, Gojo found himself wandering the grounds in a daze. Her words echoed in his mind, intertwining with the unease that had settled deep in his chest.

You were being used. Someone had turned you into a pawn in their twisted game, manipulating you from the shadows. 

It infuriated him, made him want to tear apart anyone who had dared to lay a hand on you. But anger wasn’t going to solve anything—it was just a reaction, a mask over his real fear: that he might not be able to protect you.

His fists clenched at his sides as the kiss you shared replayed in his mind, unbidden. 

The way you had looked at him, the softness of your lips, the brief, raw connection. It had felt right in that moment, like something he’d been craving without realizing it.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? 

He had let himself get carried away by his feelings—by whatever had been stirring inside him since the day he found you. 

He had kissed you–allowed himself to indulge in that moment, when he should have been focusing on what truly mattered: keeping you safe.

What was he doing, letting emotions cloud his judgment? 

You were in danger, and he had no time to be distracted by… whatever this was between you. 

It wasn’t fair to you, either. He couldn’t risk pulling you closer when the threat surrounding you was still out there, lurking in the dark. It was irresponsible. Selfish, even.

His jaw tightened as he forced himself to face the truth. Letting himself kiss you had been a mistake—one he wouldn’t allow to happen again. 

He needed to suppress whatever he was feeling, shut it down, and lock it away. You needed someone who could be level-headed and determined to protect you, not someone who was getting lost in feelings he didn’t even know how to define.

“I’m done with that,” he whispered to himself, the words hanging heavy in the air. “No more distractions.”

It was his job to keep you safe, and he was done letting his own desires get in the way. There was no room for weakness, and no room for mistakes.

With a deep breath, he straightened his posture. He would find you and explain the situation, make sure you were prepared for whatever might come next. 

But that was all. There would be no more moments of tenderness, no more blurred lines. He would be your protector, your mentor—nothing more.

The kiss had to be the last time. And he would make sure it was.

—

As Gojo walked down the hallway, his thoughts drifted back to that moment he had been trying so hard to push away. 

Despite his determination to move on, the memory of your kiss came flooding back, as vivid as if it had just happened.

He could still feel the warmth of your lips on his, the way you had leaned into him, a mix of surprise and something deeper in your eyes that had pulled him in. 

His hand had rested on the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as if holding you there, afraid to let go. 

It wasn’t just the kiss itself; it was the way everything seemed to fall away—the weight of his responsibilities, the chaos of the world—leaving only you and him in that moment.

For just a second, as he recalled it, he felt his cheeks heat up—a rare blush creeping over his face that he hadn’t expected. 

It wasn’t like him to get flustered, and yet there he was, reliving the sensation of your lips brushing against his, your breath mixing with his, the rapid thump of his own heartbeat as he pulled you closer. 

The feeling had been electrifying, overwhelming in a way he hadn’t experienced in years.

A sudden irritation rose in his chest as he shook his head, scolding himself. 

Stop thinking about it, he ordered silently. 

He wasn’t some teenager caught up in his first crush—he was Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive. There was no time for him to be losing composure over something as trivial as a kiss.

But even as he tried to push the memory away, a small part of him couldn’t help but linger on it. 

The way you had looked at him afterward, breathless and wide-eyed, had stirred something unfamiliar inside him—something he didn’t quite know how to name. 

It wasn’t just desire or affection; it was a need to protect, to shield you from whatever was coming. And, as much as he hated to admit it, the kiss had made him feel… vulnerable.

He took a sharp breath, trying to snap himself out of it. 

His cheeks still felt warm, though he hoped it was just from walking quickly. There was no use dwelling on something that had already happened. 

He needed to stay focused on what really mattered—finding out who had implanted that cursed energy in you and ensuring you were safe.

That kiss didn’t mean anything, he told himself again, though the faint sting in his chest argued otherwise. 

And with that, he pushed the memory back, forcing his thoughts to harden, to bury whatever softness he had allowed himself to feel.

He had made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t let it happen again, and he intended to keep it. 

No more letting his guard down. There was too much at stake. 

You were at stake.

—

You walked down the dimly lit corridor, your footsteps echoing softly in the quiet as you made your way back to your room. 

The encounter with Nobara and Itadori replayed in your mind, but it kept getting overshadowed by something else—something that had your pulse racing and your skin tingling.

The kiss.

The moment you thought of Gojo’s lips on yours, your breath hitched. 

The memory of him pulling you closer was still vivid, his fingers weaving into your hair and applying just enough pressure to send a shiver racing down your spine.

That slight tug had drawn a soft gasp from your lips, and in that instant, his tongue slipped into your mouth, the memory of it made you breathless yet again.

You could still feel the faint sensation of him groaning against your lips, a low sound that seemed to vibrate through you, making the kiss all the more intoxicating.

You swallowed hard, your fingers brushing against your own lips as if trying to recapture the intensity of it. 

It had been consuming—like the rest of the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you in that moment. 

The heat of his body against yours, the way his hands had roamed as if memorizing every curve, every breath—it had felt like you were falling into something deeper than just a kiss.

Was it possible that you had feelings for him, more than just the admiration you felt as his student? 

The way you had melted into his touch, how your heart had skipped a beat with every movement of his lips—it was becoming undeniable. 

Whatever you felt for Gojo wasn’t as simple as you had once thought.

You reached your door, your fingers trembling slightly as you turned the knob. 

Once inside, you closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The room was dark, the faint moonlight streaming through the window casting silver lines across the floor. 

But even in the darkness, the phantom touch of his hands on you lingered, the taste of him still fresh on your tongue.

Your chest tightened as your thoughts kept drifting back to him. 

His playful grin, the teasing tone of his voice, the rare moments when his blue eyes softened into something almost tender. 

There was a magnetic pull to him, something about him that was becoming more than just captivating—it was starting to feel personal, intimate in a way you hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.

You couldn’t deny it anymore. 

You had feelings for him—feelings that were far more complex, far deeper than you had ever intended to let yourself feel. 

And now, after that kiss, they were impossible to ignore.

—

Gojo stood outside your door, his hand raised, ready to knock. 

He could sense you on the other side, your cursed energy a soft, familiar presence just beyond the wooden barrier. 

He stared at the door, his expression unusually serious as the memory of the kiss flickered in his mind. 

He could still feel the way you had responded to him, the heat of your body pressed against his, the sound of your breath mingling with his own. 

His cheeks grew warm, and he quickly pushed the thought aside, frustrated by the effect it had on him.

He hesitated, his hand still poised to knock. 

The kiss had been a mistake—he knew that now. 

It had only complicated things, and you probably needed space after everything that had happened today. He sighed, lowering his hand.

"It’s late," he muttered to himself, stepping back from the door. 

"I’ll talk to her tomorrow."

With that, he turned and walked down the corridor, leaving behind the conversation that would have to wait for another day.

—

The morning sunlight spilled across the halls of Jujutsu High, bathing the corridor in a golden glow. 

You could feel its gentle warmth seeping into your skin, but nothing could compare to the lingering warmth from last night—when Gojo's lips had moved against yours and his hands had gripped you with a mixture of need and tenderness. 

The memory sent a shiver down your spine, making your pulse quicken as a smile tugged at your lips. 

You replayed the moment over and over again, the way he had pulled you closer, his breath mixing with yours as if he was afraid to let you go. 

There was no denying it anymore; you were looking forward to seeing him again today.

As you rounded the corner on your way to the common area, you nearly collided with someone blocking your path. 

Startled, you looked up, and your breath caught in your throat. Standing there was Gojo, his familiar grin spreading across his lips. 

But something about it seemed off—it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey, Satoru,” you greeted, your voice soft, carrying a warmth that seemed to cut through the distance between you. 

Saying his name felt right, natural, like a promise that hung in the air between you. But as soon as the words left your lips, his eyes flickered, and you saw it—that pang of something in his gaze, a hesitation he quickly buried.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice rougher than usual, as if he was forcing himself to stay detached. 

“We need to talk.”

The brightness in your eyes faded, replaced by a thread of confusion. 

“Oh…?” You asked cautiously, the hope in your chest wavering.

He took a step back, as if creating more physical distance would help keep the conversation from crossing the line he had already breached.

“About last night,” he said, the casual tone in his voice gone, replaced by something colder. 

The mention of it sent a jolt through you, your cheeks flushing at the memory. 

“What about it?” you asked, your voice small.

“It was a mistake,” he stated bluntly, the words like a blade slicing through the air. 

“I shouldn’t have done that. It was completely out of line.”

You stared at him, your heart thudding painfully in your chest. 

"Out of line?" You echoed, barely able to find your voice, "I… I didn’t think it was.”

“Well, it was,” he shot back, the harshness in his tone almost startling. He didn’t soften his gaze, didn’t try to sugarcoat it—he needed to shut this down before the situation spiralled further out of control. 

“I’m your teacher, y/n. I’m supposed to be guiding you, protecting you—not… confusing you with things like that.”

The word "teacher" stung, like he was deliberately trying to widen the gap between you, using it as a barrier to push you away. Your chest tightened with hurt and frustration.

“Teacher?” You snapped, a spark of anger flaring in your eyes. 

“That’s a bullshit excuse, Satoru, and you know it.”

His expression hardened, his jaw tightening. 

“It’s not an excuse,” he insisted, voice low and edged with a warning. 

“It’s the reality. You’re my responsibility, and I crossed a line. It was a lapse in judgment, nothing more.”

You shook your head, disbelief colouring your features as you stepped closer to him, refusing to let the distance grow. 

“It didn’t feel like a lapse,” you argued, your voice rising despite the lump forming in your throat. “You’re acting like you didn’t mean it, like it didn’t mean anything.”

He clenched his teeth, his hands curling into fists at his sides as if fighting to stay in control. 

“Well, maybe I didn’t mean it,” he said, the flatness of his tone a stark contrast to the intensity in his eyes. 

“And it won’t happen again.” His words felt like a wall slamming down between you, closing you out with brutal finality.

The anger bled away, replaced by a hollow ache that gnawed at your insides. You shook your head, the disappointment clawing its way to the surface. 

“Then why did you look at me like you meant it?” You whispered, the question escaping before you could stop it.

He hesitated, his eyes widening, as if you had struck something inside him. He then exhaled sharply, his expression unreadable. 

“It doesn’t matter now,” he said, his voice a touch quieter than before, almost regretful. “I need to focu—”

“What do you need to focus on?” you interrupted, your tone sharpening with suspicion. “What aren’t you telling me?”

His jaw clenched, and for a heartbeat, something unspoken flickered in his eyes—an emotion too swift to name before it was buried behind his usual confidence. 

He took a step back, the distance between you widening as if he was retreating from the confrontation.

“You’re reading into things,” he replied curtly, his voice steady. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Don’t lie to me, Satoru,” you shot back, taking a step toward him, unwilling to let the space grow wider. 

“I can see it in your eyes. You know something. Is it about the cursed energy Shoko found?”

His expression hardened, the flicker of surprise at her name quickly masked by a cool indifference.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his tone firm and unyielding. “Shoko didn’t find anything unusual, not anything worth worrying about.”

The words hung in the air, a brittle barrier between you that did nothing to ease the weight pressing against your chest. 

There was a quiet resolve in his voice, as if he had already convinced himself that withholding the truth was somehow justified.

He let out a sigh, his shoulders falling just slightly. 

“Y/n, don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he murmured, almost like a plea. “I’m not going to complicate things. I can’t.”

You felt your throat tighten, the hurt squeezing your chest as you met his gaze one last time. 

“Fine,” you breathed, unable to keep the bitterness from your voice. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s for the best,” he replied, and god he hated how rehearsed it sounded, as though he had convinced himself of the lie. 

He didn’t give you a chance to say anything else before turning on his heel, his retreating figure disappearing down the hall.

You stood there, staring after him, the empty corridor suddenly feeling much colder. 

Outside, the sunlight continued to spill into the common area, but it no longer seemed to reach you. It felt distant and cold, a reminder of the warmth that had been stolen away by the gap Satoru insisted on creating. 

You watched his retreating figure, the hurt crashed over you in waves, relentless and consuming, as if a tide of disappointment had swept through the corridor, erasing the warmth that had felt so real just moments ago.

Your breath hitched as the weight of his words pressed down on you, the gravity of his rejection settling deep in your chest. 

You couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something from you, something important enough to justify his actions. 

Whatever light had illuminated your heart was extinguishing, fading like the remnants of a dream upon waking. 

The ache in your chest deepened, and the pit in your stomach twisted tighter, gnawing at you with the knowledge that he decided to suddenly push you away, whatever the reason may be.

[simplygojo]

The Devil He Made Me - Ch. 8

Authors Note: I really hope you guys like this chapterrrrr, we are finally getting to the good part of this series and I am SO EXCITED ABOUT IT!! I hope you guys are liking the direction of this series, and i think this chapter adds some long-awaited spice...

You guys have given me so much support since re-joining Tumblr as a writer, so I wanted to give back to y'all by hosting a giveaway event! Here are the details for those interested: SimplyGojo1K

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/reader

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary : After Mahito shows up, y/n and the first years are forced to fight him, but somehow, he recognizes y/n, and toys with her. Meanwhile, after frustrating Gojo beyond his threshold, you two have a heated argument about what it is you're doing...

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: mention of d*eath, light smut (👀 )

Taglist: @mawhoreagaa; @peqch-pie; @blue-serendipity; @simplyyyuji; @starrnai; @sorcerersseestars; @n1vi; @angryglitterperfection; @krak-jj; @coweringbear; @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni; @cococola-cocaine; @sdv98o; @theendx888; @dvmb4ssbiatch; @sugxryratz; @kinny-away; If you’d like to be added to the series tag list, leave a comment below:)

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*link to the ch.8 teaser if you'd like to read that before hand*

You hadn’t seen a curse that looked so human-like before. Despite that, though, his figure still oozed an errieness that you felt at your core.

“I get to fight my natural enemy, Yuji Itadori, the famous Satoru Gojo…and you… the new experiment…I don’t think I can touch your soul…but oh god, I wonder how your soul feels, y/n y/l/n,” he purred, his voice dripping with twisted curiosity. 

“Oh, this will be so fun!” His grin widened, and for a second, you thought you saw a flicker of something darker, something far more dangerous than his playful demeanour. 

His gaze flitted between the group, but it kept landing back on you.

“Let’s see how well you break.” 

The curse’s grin stretched wider, and the next moment, he lunged with terrifying speed, targeting Yuji with a flurry of vicious attacks. 

The group immediately scattered, their instincts kicking in as they took defensive stances.

“Yuji, Megumi—split off and handle the cursed spirits!” Gojo’s voice was sharp, his usual playful edge completely absent as his eyes followed the curse’s movements. 

“Nobara, keep your distance and strike from range.”

You barely registered Gojo’s commands, your heart pounding as the curse turned toward you again, its eyes gleaming with twisted amusement. 

It came for you next, a blur of motion that sent you skidding back, blocking a strike aimed at your chest with your shield technique.

His voice slithered in your mind, almost a whisper. 

“Let’s see how far you can push that little black flame inside you.”

Your breath hitched, and your eyes widened with the meaning of his words—the mention of your cursed energy triggered a sharp spike of fear and anger. You felt the power of the black energy—stirred, unbidden, a dark pulse echoing inside you.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you hissed, channelling your blue cursed energy into a defensive barrier, pushing back against the curse’s oppressive aura.

Gojo, Yuji, and Megumi engaged in a barrage of attacks, Yuji charging forward with his fists, while Megumi summoned his Shikigami to overwhelm the cursed spirits. 

The battlefield turned chaotic in an instant, the clash of cursed techniques lighting up the space with terrifying intensity.

But the curse was unrelenting. He deflected every blow with disturbing ease, his eyes flicking back to you as if waiting, watching for the right moment.

“Y/n, get back!” Gojo’s voice cut through the chaos, but you were already too deep into the fight, your cursed energy swirling out of control. 

The blue shield you’d summoned started flickering, and before you could stabilize it, a dark, familiar surge erupted from within you.

The black energy shot from your fingertips—wild, unrestrained. You gasped, the force of it ripping through the air and slamming into the patch-faced curse with an impact that shook the ground. 

But instead of retreating, the curse laughed, absorbing the blow like it was nothing.

“Wow, impressive!” The patch-faced curse voiced with satisfaction, and a terrifying grin grew on his lips. “You’ve got more control of that curse than I thought you would.”

Gojo’s eyes darted to you, frustration flickering in his usually calm expression. “Alright.” He said matter-of-factly.

“We’re done here. I’m taking you back to the school.”

You turned toward him, disbelief and anger flaring in your chest. 

“What? We can’t just leave! We could get more information from him!”

“This isn’t a game, y/n,” Gojo snapped, his eyes narrowing, the weight of his presence crashing down on you like a tidal wave. 

“We’re not getting anything useful from him right now, he’s just muttering bullshit, and you’re out of control.”

Your hands clenched into fists, the sting of his harsh words pushing you further. 

“I’m not out of control—I can handle this! We’re finally getting closer to the truth, and you want to just leave?!”

The curse let out a low chuckle, as if enjoying the conflict. “Oh, I’m happy to stay and watch this unfold…”

Gojo’s patience visibly thinned, his jaw tightening as his frustration mounted. 

“This isn’t up for debate. I’m not risking your life over—”

“I’m not leaving!” Your voice broke through the tension, your stubbornness ignited by a mix of fear and anger. 

“If we run now, we might not get another chance! I want to know more!”

His expression darkened, and for a moment, you saw a rare flicker of something intense behind his normally teasing eyes. 

“What…do you want to die?” His voice was low, sharp, cutting through your defiance like a blade.

You froze, the question hanging in the air between you. His words echoed in your mind, and for the first time, you saw something raw in his gaze—an emotion you couldn’t quite place, something far deeper than just frustration. 

Your eyes searched his, darting back and forth as you fought your emotions. 

The curse, however, was far from done. “Ooh, this is getting interesting,” it purred, lunging at Yuji again, forcing everyone back into action. Gojo let out a grunt in frustration. 

Yuji and Megumi were locked in combat with the cursed spirits. Nobara’s nails flew through the air, striking from a distance, but even her attacks weren’t enough to slow the curse down.

And yet, the curse kept coming back to you.

The curse’s laughter rang in your ears as it lunged at you again, its movements swift and relentless. You dodged another strike, barely managing to evade its claws, but you could feel your blue energy faltering, weakening with each second.

Then, you felt it—the black energy surging up again, darker, more sinister than ever before. It clawed at your mind, tugging at your very core as if it wanted to consume you. 

But this time, instead of retreating from it, you let it in.

With a sudden, sharp clarity, you pointed your fingers into the shape of a gun, your black cursed energy coiling at your fingertips like a loaded weapon. A strange calm settled over you as you aimed directly at the patch-faced curse.

Without thinking, you pulled the imaginary trigger.

A sharp, piercing bolt of black cursed energy shot from your fingers, cutting through the air with terrifying speed. The curse didn’t even have time to react. 

The attack slammed into his chest with a resounding crack, piercing clean through his body.

The curse’s grin faltered, his eyes widening in shock as he stumbled back, blood oozing from the gaping hole in his chest. The air around you went still, the intensity of the blow leaving everyone momentarily stunned.

Even Gojo’s eyes flickered with a flash of surprise.

Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara froze, their battle with the cursed spirits halting as they stared at the scene in shock. 

The power, the precision—none of them had seen you unleash anything like that before.

The curse coughed, blood dripping from his lips as he glared at you. 

"Well...this just got interesting," he muttered, his voice rasping with pain, but he quickly healed himself.

The black energy still crackled at your fingertips, wild and uncontrollable. You could feel it pulling at you again, urging you to strike once more, but before you could lift your hands again, Gojo was suddenly in front of you.

His voice was hard, all traces of playfulness gone. “You’re staying behind me from now on, got it?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the intensity of his gaze stopped you cold. He wasn’t playing around anymore, so you just nodded in response.

The battle raged on around you, but Gojo’s words rooted you to the spot, the weight of them sinking in deeper than you’d expected. 

Before you could respond, the curse launched another attack, this one aimed directly at both of you.

Gojo stepped forward, his cursed energy flaring like a bright blue star, his power surging in response. 

“Enough games.” He raised a single hand and spoke loudly, as a blue orb appeared in his palm, aimed at the curse in front of you. 

The patch-faced creature stopped in its tracks and smiled sheepishly.

“I do not have a death wish, plus this was just for fun!” The curse muttered. 

“I’ll be seeing you soon y/n y/l/n,” he said enthusiastically before slithering into the shadows, disappearing into the distance.

The battlefield went quiet, minus the heavy breathing of your teammates. 

You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your heart still racing, your body trembling from the surge of energy coursing through you.

Gojo turned to you, his expression cold. “We’re leaving.”

You nodded reluctantly, knowing there was no more room for argument. He hadn’t really been upset with you before, but you couldn't stop yourself from worrying. 

Was he mad at you? And why did you care so much?

—

Gojo had teleported all five of you back to the school, although it wasn’t overly safe for you there either at this point. 

“There is way too much happening right now,” Megumi said, his tone stressed as he ran his hand through his black hair. 

“First y/n’s execution and now that thing popping back up?” 

The weight of his words hit you harder than you expected. Your execution—an event that had loomed over your head for what felt like forever—suddenly felt very real again. You could see the tension rippling through the group as the reality of the situation set in.

Yuji shifted uncomfortably beside you, his usual lighthearted demeanour subdued, his eyes downcast as if he was trying to process everything that had happened. 

“We can’t even catch a break long enough to figure out what’s going on.”

Nobara crossed her arms tightly, her jaw clenched. 

“You think they’re connected?” she asked, her voice sharp. “Y/n’s execution order, that curse... it’s all happening too fast to be a coincidence.”

Gojo, who had been silent up until this point, leaned against the wall, his eyes hidden behind his usual blindfold. 

Despite his casual stance, you could feel the tension radiating off him, the weight of everything pressing down on even him. 

He tilted his head slightly, “You’re not wrong, Nobara. Nothing’s ever a coincidence in this world.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.

“Then what are we dealing with?” Megumi asked, his voice cutting through the silence again. “We barely got out of that fight with him, and now we’re back here with no answers. I really don’t think this is just about y/n anymore.”

His words struck you like a blow to the gut. 

He was right. It wasn’t just about you—it was about everything, all of it spiralling out of control. 

The cursed energy within you, the execution order, the curse you’d just fought. They were pieces of a larger puzzle, but the picture they formed was still out of reach.

You clenched your fists at your sides, trying to suppress the surge of frustration welling up inside you.

“We need answers,” you said, your voice a little sharper than you intended. 

“We need to figure out why they want me dead and why that curse is after us. If they’re connected, we—”

“What we need,” Gojo interrupted, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable edge, “is to keep you alive first. You’re not gonna find answers if you’re dead, y/n.”

His words were harsh, but there was a thread of concern woven through them, barely masked by his usual casual tone. 

He was right, of course. But the helplessness of the situation clawed at you, gnawing at the edges of your resolve.

“And what if staying alive isn’t enough anymore?” You shot back, your frustration boiling over. 

“What if there’s more going on here? More than just me being executed or this curse showing up? I can’t just sit back and wait for things to get worse!”

Gojo’s expression didn’t change, but you could feel his eyes on you, his posture stiffening slightly. 

“You think I don’t know that?” His voice was low, almost a growl. “You think I haven’t been trying to figure this out too?”

Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara stood frozen for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden shift in Gojo’s demeanour. 

Yuji, always the one to break awkward silences, glanced between the two of you, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uh…maybe,” he muttered, “maybe we should… give you guys a minute?”

Megumi shot Yuji a pointed look, one that clearly said, ‘You think?’ but he didn’t say anything, instead taking a step toward the door. 

His hand was already on the handle, though he hesitated for a moment, glancing over his shoulder.

Nobara, however, wasn’t one to leave quietly. 

She raised an eyebrow at the tense exchange between you and Gojo, eyes darting from one to the other. 

“Yeah, okay, we’ll just… be outside. Probably for a while,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she followed Megumi to the door.

Yuji shot you a sympathetic look, then glanced at Gojo as if he wanted to say something more, but ultimately thought better of it.

—

The silence that followed was almost deafening, and now that the others were gone, the room felt larger and more suffocating all at once. 

You were left standing there, face to face with Gojo, his presence overwhelming as he continued to watch you, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

You could feel the tension, thick and unrelenting, making it hard to breathe. His normally light-hearted energy was nowhere to be found, replaced with a hardness that made your heart race, though not in the way it usually did around him.

“You don’t get it,” you finally snapped, breaking the silence. Your voice wavered the frustration that had been building all day now spilling out. 

“I’m not just some liability, I can help—We need information, and I can get it!”

Gojo’s jaw clenched, the lines of frustration between his eyebrows tightening as his hands balled into fists at his sides. 

His eyes narrowed, his blindfold hanging around his neck as his eyes searched yours, but you didn’t need to see them to know he was glaring at you.

“This isn’t about you helping,” he shot back, his tone sharp and biting. 

“This is about you doing something reckless—again. You think I don’t know that you’re strong? You think I don’t know how far you’ve come? But that dark energy—you don’t know what it is…and you’re just charging ahead like it’s nothing, like you don’t care if it kills you!”

You flinched at his words, but your anger only flared hotter. 

“You’re right, I don’t care about that! I care about figuring out what's wrong with me! That way, I won’t be just another weak burden in this world, and then maybe I will be able to help people! We don’t have time to be cautious!”

Gojo took a big step towards you, his posture growing even more rigid. 

“That’s bullshit, and you know it!” His voice rose, a rare outburst of emotion that caught you off guard. You were a mere inches apart now, both of your faces washed over with anger.

“This isn’t about the greater good, y/n…and for the record, you have never, not once, been a burden to anyone here. This is about you! You think I don’t see what’s happening? You’re spiralling, and you’re using this ‘burden’ thing as an excuse!”

You stared at him, stunned by the sudden intensity of his words. “I’m not—”

“Yes, you are!” He cut you off, leaning his body towards yours, making the already small space between you smaller. You felt the heat of his anger grow hotter as he spoke. 

“And it’s going to get you killed! You think I can just stand there and watch that happen? You think I’ll let you throw yourself into danger just to prove a point?”

“I’m not proving a point!” You shouted back, your frustration boiling over. 

“I’m doing what needs to be done because we need to act now!”

Gojo’s eyes flashed with something dangerous, something raw. His lips pulled into a tight line, and for a moment, you could see the storm brewing beneath the surface.

“You want to die? Is that it?” He growled, his voice dropping lower, full of barely contained fury. 

“Because that’s what’s going to happen if you keep acting like this. And then what? You die ‘n I’ll have to bury you too?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind from your lungs. You hadn’t expected this—not from him. Your eyes were wide with shock, like a dear in headlights.

You opened your mouth to argue, but nothing came out, the weight of his words sinking in, leaving you breathless. 

For a moment, he searched your eyes, and you searched his. 

The room seemed to close in around you, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. Gojo’s usual aloofness was gone, replaced by something raw and exposed. 

You had seen him frustrated, playful, even protective—but this was different. 

This was personal.

You swallowed hard, trying to form words, but your mind was spinning. “Satoru…I-” you started, but your voice faltered. 

You had never seen him like this, never thought he could be this vulnerable with you.

The tension in the room thickened as his voice, once sharp and biting, softened.

"You don’t get it," he continued, his tone no longer laced with irritation but with a vulnerability you rarely saw from him. Emotion clung to every word, weighed down with a gravity that made your chest tighten.

“I’ve lost people before. Too many.” He paused, his jaw clenched as if wrestling with the words he couldn’t bring himself to say. His eyes squeezed shut briefly, the weight of the unspoken hanging in the air between you. 

“But losing you—” His voice faltered. He shook his head, unable to finish the sentence, as if the mere thought was unbearable.

A lump rose in your throat, and you swallowed hard, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The look in his eyes wasn’t just frustration or anger. No, it was something deeper—something raw and unguarded. 

Fear. 

You saw fear flickering in his gaze like a storm brewing just beneath the surface. Not just any fear—fear of loss, fear of exposing himself, of being vulnerable in front of you.

The realization hit you like a wave crashing over your head. How much he had been holding back, how carefully he had concealed the depths of his care for you.

“I didn’t realize…” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, shaky from the emotions swirling inside you. 

Your pulse was racing, pounding so loudly that you wondered if he could hear it too. 

"I didn’t know I was that important to you."

Gojo exhaled a rough breath, its warmth brushing against your skin as he leaned in closer. His face was so near now that you could see every detail, every fine line and imperfection that made him so infuriatingly perfect. 

His striking blue eyes, unobscured by his blindfold, bore into yours, the silver strands of his hair falling messily across his forehead. It was as if time had stopped, and all you could focus on was him.

“Yeah, well, now you do,” he muttered, his voice rough around the edges, but not without that familiar sarcasm. 

His hand hovered just above your arm, fingers twitching like he wanted to reach out and touch you, to ground himself in your presence, but something held him back. 

His restraint, however, only made the moment feel more intimate, more charged.

“So stop acting like your life doesn’t matter," he continued, the frustration still there but overshadowed by something raw, something real. 

His voice wavered, just slightly, as if the emotion threatening to spill over was too much even for him to hold back. "Because it does. It matters to me."

The weight of his words crashed into you, heavier than any curse you’d ever faced. 

There was no bravado left in his voice, no shield of humour to deflect from his feelings. Just honesty. Sincerity.

The air between you felt electric, as if every unsaid word, every unexpressed emotion was swirling around you, charging the space with a thick tension. 

Neither of you moved, and yet everything felt different now—more fragile, more real.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the electricity in the scant space separating you. His closeness was overwhelming—every sense attuned to him and him alone.

You felt the weight of what he wasn’t saying, all the fear and pain buried beneath his flippant exterior. For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you, the sounds of the school fading into the background. 

The tension hung thick in the air, undeniable and almost suffocating.

You blinked, trying to steady your breath. 

‘Say something,’ you urged yourself, but the words caught in your throat. 

His familiar scent—clean with a hint of something warm and intoxicating—enveloped you, making it hard to think clearly. 

The way his eyes searched yours, earnest and unguarded, sent a shiver down your spine.

His gaze dropped briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes, a flicker of hesitation crossing his features. 

The air seemed to grow warmer, the silence stretching on as neither of you moved. The unspoken tension was nearly tangible, a magnetic pull drawing you closer together.

“Satoru,” you finally managed, your voice soft, barely above a whisper, “I didn’t mean to…”

“Damn it y/n, there ya’ go again, sayin’ my name like that…” His voice was a low murmur, thick with something you couldn’t quite place, but it made your pulse race.

Before you could make sense of the moment, Gojo closed the distance between you with a swift step, so sudden and forceful that it stole the breath from your lungs. 

Your eyes widened in shock, your body freezing for a brief second as the reality of what was happening hit you—but only for a moment. 

The warmth of his lips, the undeniable pull between you, melted away your hesitation. You responded instinctively, your body moving on its own as you leaned into him, your lips moulding perfectly to his, moving in sync like you had been waiting for this all along.

His movements were charged, deliberate, as if the restraint he’d been so desperately clinging to for so long had finally snapped.

His hand found the back of your head, pulling you into him. His lips crashed into yours with an intensity that made your head spin, heat coursing through you from the sudden contact. 

The kiss was anything but gentle—it was raw, heated, desperate. 

It felt like he had been holding this back for far too long, and now, all the pent-up emotion, the frustration, the desire—it poured into that kiss, overwhelming every one of your senses.

His other hand moved to your waist, pulling you against him as though he couldn’t get close enough. 

His touch was firm, possessive—fingers pressing into your skin through the thin fabric of your clothes, and you could feel the heat of his body seeping into yours. 

Your own hands found their way to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt for balance as your knees grew weak under the weight of the moment. 

The world around you blurred, fading into nothing but the sensation of that beautiful blue-eyed man—his lips pressing insistently against yours.

The way his fingers tangled in your hair, the intoxicating taste of his mouth—It was overwhelming. 

A small gasp escaped you, and Gojo took advantage, deepening the kiss. 

His tongue brushed against yours, and the sensation sent a shockwave of pleasure to your core, making you press closer to him. 

The heat between you was almost unbearable, the electric tension crackling in the air as his hand slid from your waist down to the small of your back, pulling you even tighter against him.

You let yourself give in to it. You kissed him back with equal fervour, hands moving up to his neck, fingers grazing the soft skin just under his jaw.

You felt him groan into your mouth, the sound low and vibrating against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine. 

His grip on your hair tightened, tugging you impossibly closer, and his arms wrapped around your body, every rational thought dissolving under the sheer force of what was happening.

The air between you was hot, charged with a need that neither of you could ignore anymore. 

His hands roamed, one sliding down your back, fingers pressing into the curve of your spine, the other still in your hair, holding you firmly in place as though he was afraid you might slip away. 

Each touch ignited something deeper within you, something that had been simmering just beneath the surface for far too long.

Gojo pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, eyes half-lidded as they searched your face. 

His breath came out in ragged gasps, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and you could feel his warm breath on your lips. 

For a moment, neither of you said anything, the weight of what had just happened hanging heavy in the air between you.

“I didn’t want it to come to this,” he muttered, his voice rough, almost pained. “But damn it, y/n… I can’t keep pretending like you don’t mean something to me.”

You swallowed hard, struggling to regain your composure as your mind raced, still reeling from the kiss. 

The warmth of his body was intoxicating, and you could feel the tautness of his muscles beneath your fingertips as your hands rested on his chest, a reminder of the intensity of the moment. 

“Satoru, I—” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, but the words caught in your throat, tangled in the whirlwind of emotions swirling between you.

Just then, the door swung open, and a familiar voice broke through the heavy silence like a sudden downpour, startling you both. 

“Gojo-sensei!” He shouted, and your heart dropped as you instinctively took a dramatic step away from Gojo, a rosy wave of shame flooding your cheeks. 

Your eyes fell to the floor, unable to meet either of theirs, the embarrassment washing over you like a tidal wave.

Yuji’s expression was a mix of confusion and shock, the realization of what he had stumbled upon clear in his wide eyes. 

Yet, being the kind-hearted person he was, he chose not to address the tension hanging in the air. Instead, he fumbled with his words, glancing nervously between you and Gojo. 

“Uh, um, I’m not sure if this is helpful, but Megumi said the clan elders and higher-ups are gathering in the big meeting hall,” he said, his tone almost sheepish. 

“He, uh, said it might be important.”

The awkwardness of the moment lingered, but the urgency of Yuji’s news snapped you both back to reality. 

You could sense the tension still coiling between you and Gojo, an unspoken promise hanging in the air, but the pressing matters at hand demanded your attention.

Gojo’s jaw tightened as he took a step back, shaking off the weight of the moment you had just shared. The fire in his eyes reignited, and his voice was low and menacing. 

“I’m putting an end to their shit, now.”

Before you could process what he meant, he teleported, the air crackling with energy in his wake, leaving you and Yuji standing in the aftermath of the charged atmosphere.

—

The silence that followed felt heavy, thick with the unspoken tension from the moment you had just shared with Gojo. 

You turned to Yuji, who looked equally startled, his eyes wide and glancing towards the door where Gojo had just vanished.

“Wow, uh…” he began, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “Looks like things got… a bit heated with Gojo-sensei, huh?”

Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, heart racing as the memory of the kiss replayed in your mind. 

“Huh? Uhm, Yuji…” you stammered, desperately trying to collect your thoughts. You felt exposed—like every little detail of that moment was on display for him to see.

Before you could find your footing, Nobara burst into the room, her eyes bright with curiosity. 

“What’s going on in here? Where’s Gojo-sensei?” She asked, scanning the room.

Yuji shot you a knowing look, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned closer to Nobara. 

“Y/n and Gojo-sensei had a heated moment…” Your eyes widened in horror, panic rushing through you. “Yuji, don’t—”

“Oh my god! You kissed Gojo-sensei? Ew!” Nobara exclaimed, dramatically pressing her hands to her cheeks. 

“That’s so gross!”

You felt your face heat up even more, the embarrassment flooding through you. 

“It’s not like that!” You blurted out, crossing your arms defensively. “It was… it was nothing!”

Yuji laughed, folding over with amusement. 

“Nothing? You mean a legendary make-out session with the strongest sorcerer in the world?” His laughter echoed off the walls, and you couldn’t help but sink further into your embarrassment. 

Your hands flew up to cover your face, barely peaking through your fingers.

Nobara chimed in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Well, I hope you’re ready for all the rumours that are about to fly around Jujutsu High. You might as well be his girlfriend now!”

“Stop it! You guys are making it sound so much worse than it is!” You protested, covering your face with your hands as if that could shield you from their teasing. “It was n-o-t-h-i-n-g!”

Yuji leaned against the wall, arms crossed and a cheeky grin plastered across his face. “I bet Gojo-sensei is already telling everyone how he has a crush on you!”

Nobara burst into laughter, and you could feel your heart thumping in your chest, a mix of mortification and amusement washing over you. 

“Can you imagine? The strongest sorcerer in the world is crushing on Y/n! That’s something out of a romance novel!”

“Guys, please!” You groaned, feeling the heat rise to your ears. 

“You’re not making this any easier for me! I have to go!” You quickly made your way to the doorway, squeezing between your two friends as they made smooching sounds in your face.

—

Meanwhile, in the meeting hall, Gojo materialized in an instant, his presence instantly commanding attention. The atmosphere shifted as he entered, a palpable tension hanging in the air.

The room fell silent, the elders seated at a long table exchanging wary glances. Their expressions shifted from surprise to concern, knowing all too well the gravity of his arrival.

“Gojo, this isn’t the time for—” Gakuganji began, his voice shaky, but Gojo cut him off, stepping forward with a fierce intensity that radiated through the room.

“Let’s not dance around the fact that I will kill you if you don’t get your heads out of your asses and deal with this situation properly.” His tone was deadly serious, stripped of the usual playful arrogance that defined him. 

“There is no valid reason for you to execute y/n y/l/n, other than the fact that you’re all weak...”

The elders shifted uncomfortably, unease settling into their expressions as Gojo continued, his voice rising with each word. 

“Y/n is not a pawn in your games. She’s more important than you realize, and I won’t let you sacrifice her or anyone else to further your twisted agendas.”

As he stood there, his aura crackling with barely contained rage, the room felt suffocating. Gojo’s fury was palpable; the energy radiating from him made it clear that he meant every word. 

The higher-ups fidgeted, their confidence faltering under the weight of his glare.

“I don’t care about your political bullshit or whatever plans you’ve concocted. If you do not call off her execution, then you’ll have to answer to me.” His eyes narrowed dangerously, the challenge unmistakable in his gaze.

Naobito Zenin finally spoke, his voice strong but laced with obvious caution. “Satoru, you know we have to consider all—”

“Consider this,” Gojo interrupted, his voice like ice, cutting through the tension. 

“You have one chance to make things right, or I will ensure your names are nothing but footnotes in history. You think you’re safe behind your titles? Think again.”

The atmosphere grew thicker as his words sank in, the elders exchanging nervous glances, their authority slipping. Gojo stood tall and unwavering, like a soldier ready to fight for what he believed in.

“You think I won’t do it?” He challenged, his voice low and menacing. 

“You underestimate me. I have no qualms about tearing down this entire institution if it means keeping y/n safe. Make your choice—now!”

The room fell into stunned silence, every eye locked on him. Gojo’s resolve was a force of nature, and there was no turning back now. He was ready to go to war for you, no matter the cost.

“Please, Satoru,” one of the older higher-ups pleaded, voice trembling. 

“We must consider the bigger picture. This isn’t just about y/n; it’s about maintaining order—”

“Order?” Gojo spat, his tone incredulous. 

“You think maintaining your precious order is worth sacrificing her life? You’re all blinded by your own self-interest.”

The atmosphere shifted as unease morphed into fear. 

The elders looked at each other, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in. They had underestimated Gojo, and now he stood before them like a storm, ready to unleash chaos if they didn’t relent.

After what felt like an eternity, principle Gakuganji took a deep, shuddering breath. 

“Alright, Satoru. You’ve made your point,” he said, his voice steadying slightly. “We’ll… we’ll call off the execution. For now.”

Gojo’s expression did not falter, still wary. “For now? If I hear you’re plotting anything against her again—”

“I understand,” Gakuganji quickly interrupted, raising his hands in a placating gesture. 

“We will reevaluate the situation. I promise you, we won’t proceed with the execution. We will take the necessary time to assess everything properly.”

Gojo held his gaze, his expression fierce and unyielding. “You’d better keep your word. If I find out otherwise, you will regret it.”

With a final, lingering look, Gojo turned on his heel, the tension in the room finally beginning to dissipate as he walked out. 

The elders sat in silence, shaken and unsure, realizing that they had narrowly avoided a catastrophic fallout.

Outside, Gojo exhaled, his relief tainted by a simmering anger that refused to fade. He wouldn’t allow you to become a casualty of their twisted politics. 

You weren’t just another sorcerer to protect—you were someone who mattered deeply to him, far more than he’d ever thought.

Whatever darkness loomed ahead, at least he had managed to put an end to the execution order—for now.

But in his gut, he knew this fight was far from over.