Little lore drop: all of these characters are a homebrew race called the Zephyriel!
In the world that our campaign is set, the dm has altered some world building from the 'base game' rules. In this case, Aasimar are the outcome of HUMANS and celestials, and the Zephyriel, one of many cousins to the Aasimar, are the product of ELVES and celestials crossbreeding. All of the Zephyriel are based on a real life bird!
Peregrine, my character, is of course based on the Peregrine Falcon. His father, Arvid, is a Harpy Eagle and his mother, Valerika, is a leucistic Saker Falcon. As for Falke here, we get to see the Ornate Hawk-Eagle.
I'm working on a few other quick drawings of some other briefly-met Zephyriel NPCs, so when I drop them I'll also reveal what they are based on :)
(sorry if they look like the same image, I promise one has a warm filter overlay and the other doesn't)
The lore:
Throughout the course of the campaign the party (before meeting Peregrine) meet a trickster child spirit who is stealing vessels of power that were born into existence by a beholder, and are forced to chase him down. The reason? He's using the vessels of power to cause a big calamity, causing the moon to fall towards the earth, and throwing nature into disarray globally.
Eventually, the party encounters Peregrine.
Peregrine is from a village up in the mountains that is, for the most part, widely removed from the outside world. Because of the events revolving around the trickster spirit, his village, once a temperate-to-warm climate, has been plunged into permanent winter. Where animals in the forests were once abundant, most species have migrated out of the cold and left little for the tribe to hunt. They have begun to freeze and starve. In hopes of finding out why the disaster is happening, as well as possibly finding a fix to the issue, Peregrine breaks many of his cultural rules and leaves home at the first opportunity he gets.
Peregrine learns similar problems are occuring throughout his island-continent homeland, and hears word of a riverland becoming a swamp overrun with monsters. It is here in the swamp, seeking his answers, that he meets the party, who is also looking to resolve the problems, whilst tracking down the trickster-boy spirit. Peregrine joins them, provided that they are all ultimately seeking the same thing, and they set off into the swamp for a vessel that has been located nearby.
After defeating it, they find that the swamp is now restored to normal — and strangely, the moon is 'falling' slower. Gaining a new lead on another vessel, the party heads to the mountains where Peregrine is from, and encounter another creature who the trickster gave a vessel to, Peregrine is forced to fight a hag who takes on the image of his own father — and in facing his internal struggles in the fight, the vessel becomes his own: much like another party member had received a vessel in the fight at the swamp.
Upon attaching itself to Perri, the mask shows him a 'dreamscape' replica of his home. Within it, Peregrine finds a young boy weeping inside the hollowed-out stump of a fallen tree. The boy introduces himself as Mirthkin, and that he's been lonely for a very very long time: questioning Peregrine, "Why have all my friends left me?"
While little is revealed to explain the dreamscape or even what Mirthkin is asking him, Peregrine offers to become the boy's friend in the stead of those who have 'left' him. Through a game of hide-and-seek, Peregrine realizes that this boy resembles the trickster child that the party had informed him of.
At the end of the game with Mirthkin, Peregrine finds himself back in the area they battled the hag, now with a wooden mask that seems to be bound to him: reappearing at his side even when thrown far away.
The party decide to trek the last of the trip to Peregrine's village to rest and recover — but also to see if the condition improved as the swamp's had. (Spoiler alert, it did.) During the trip, Peregrine is drawn to a stump in the woods- recognizing it from his dreamscape. Putting the mask on and stepping inside, he returns to the dreamscape to find Mirthkin.
While we haven't ventured too much further into Mirthkin's story, our DM has heavily hinted at the fact that the trickster boy is Mirthkin, in search of people to 'play a game' with him after the 'abandonment' of his friends. We believe that Mirthkin died a sudden death (likely a fire, given that the DM described his body to resemble wood after fire: charcoal-like cracks forking fissures over his face) and his spirit believes his friends left him, when the truth is that they can't see him.
This drawing is simply my interpretation that Mirthkin's log (and possible resting place) is close to Peregrine's home. That, in another life, perhaps they would have grown up as friends, as they are now in the dreamscape. It's a very bittersweet image :)
Sorry if this explanation is lengthy and all over the place haha, I totally cut out so many details to keep it 'short'.
⤕ It’s crazy how life can turn upside down overnight. In your case, life took a 180º turn the morning you discovered you were the weakness of the most powerful creature in the world.
From a normal citizen, you become Jujutsu Society’s most coveted target. In a world where everyone wants your head on a silver platter, plagued by secrets of the past and struggling to balance what remains of your “normal” life, you are trapped in a situation you cannot escape.
And yet - amid the chaos, you slowly realize that you might be his weak point in ways that have nothing to do with sorcery.
pairing: gojo x (f) reader
genre: romance, fluff and humor, angst, forced proximity, slow burn, eventual smut, “oh no we have to live in the same house” trope, fix-it fic (kinda)
warnings: violence/blood, explicit sex (in future parts), grief, smoking, alcohol consumption, explicit language, me trying to be funny
rating: 18+
word count: 7k
⤕ Masterlist ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist
Megumi was a fucking idiot.
He kind of always knew that. Well. He tried to not be an idiot as much as he could. But it was difficult to not feel like an idiot when he’d been staring at a bento box for ten minutes despite his rumbling belly.
Almost as if he was scared of touching it.
Which made him an idiot.
Scared. Huh. Megumi wasn’t scared of anything. He fought more curses than he could remember, the most gruesome things, since he was a first grader. He assisted The Idiot more times than he could count. Almost no one in the world could say they’d done something like that.
He wasn’t scared of a stupid bento box.
Still.
He couldn’t open it.
The thing was prettily wrapped in a dark blue striped cloth. It was heavy.
His stomach grumbled in protest again.
Megumi wasn’t used to bringing lunch… at least, not anymore. Usually, Tsumiki would cook, and she’d prepare a bento for him when she was feeling merciful enough. She didn’t always cook, though. And Megumi would rather buy something from the school canteen anyway.
Tsumiki had been sleeping since April, however.
She wasn’t there to cook. So… he’d just been eating out ever since.
He tapped his fingers over the bento tentatively.
The weather was nice. Wind played with his dark hair. He was feeling better now, away from everyone else’s attention… because, as expected, he brought a lot of attention, even if he hated it. Did you see the new guy from class B? He’s a transfer student. He’s so quiet! He’s so cool! Does he have a girlfriend?! Do you have his number?!
Megumi would rather dance samba barefoot on broken glass than deal with all that bullshit.
He didn’t wanna talk, or make friends, or call any attention to himself. Sure; he understood why he had to be transferred. It was part of the job in a way. And to be honest, leaving his past school was a relief. Everything about that place reminded him of Tsumiki to the point of madness. But all that talking… all that gossiping… it was insufferable.
Whatever.
He just had to deal with all this shit for one more semester. Next year, he’d finally join Jujutsu High as a student; he’d finally get to live there, finally have a proper sorcerer license, finally be fully immersed in his world.
He hoped she’d be gone the next six months, too.
Megumi didn’t need to look up to know she was marching in his direction. He didn’t want to look up. But when she stopped by his side, he unfortunately had to.
Mori Mayuka. And her stupid green hair.
She crossed her arms and glared down at him angrily as if he’d done something, which he hadn’t. He’d been – successfully – running away from her the entire morning, but turns out the school was full of gossippers, as schools usually are. Of course she’d hear about the new transfer student from class B. Of course she’d come to bother him as he finally found a peaceful spot: a bench behind the school’s infirmary.
“What are you doing here?!” She hissed.
Megumi looked down at his uniform that matched hers (black blazer, white shirt, blue tie) and quirked one lazy eyebrow.
“Are you that slow?”
“You know what I mean!” She stormed. “Why the hell did you get transferred here?!”
Megumi sighed tiredly.
To watch over you. To make sure no one kidnaps you from the school. But of course, he couldn’t say that. Mayuka was a non-sorcerer, clueless to everything. And quite frankly – he didn’t really get why her sister (or even The Idiot) hadn’t told her the entire truth. Tsumiki wasn’t a sorcerer, either, but she understood Jujutsu Society pretty well. Why couldn’t they open up to her?
It ain’t up to us, The Idiot said lazily when Megumi complained about it, because he did not want to be around her more than necessary. Mori will tell the truth when she feels like it. She’d beat the two of us if we went ahead of her and did it.
Megumi imagined how it’d go.
Honestly, Mori-san could be quite scary.
Wait. I ain’t scared of anything. Or anyone.
He wasn’t scared of the mini version of her, either. The more annoying one. With her stupid green hair. And her stupid friends, watching the entire thing from a distance.
“I was going to get transferred anyway.” He replied in the same monotone tone. “Turns out it’s easier if we’re in the same school. ‘Cause Nitta-san will pick us up at the same time.”
Sounded pretty plausible.
Mayuka didn’t buy it. Of course she wouldn’t.
She stepped closer and lowered her voice. Megumi figured she didn’t want her two annoying friends to listen.
“You know what’s really going on, don’t you?”
Megumi blinked.
His expression didn’t change.
“This entire ‘witness protection service’ thing?” She pressed on. “You know what’s happening with my sister, don’t you?”
Silence.
He opened the grape soda he’d bought from the vending machine. Took a sip.
Shrugged.
Mayuka wanted to punch him.
She stomped angrily, hands tightened to fists.
“Why can you know what’s up and I can’t?! That’s not fair!”
“I didn’t say anything.” His voice was still monotone. Disinterested.
“I’m not stupid!” He eyed her as if saying are you sure?, but Mayuka was so upset that she didn’t feel like biting back. “All of you… treating me like a kid!”
Megumi rolled his eyes. “Go yell with your sister about it, not with me.”
She probably wanted to call him very bad names by the way she was glaring at him. Her older sister would make that same face sometimes. Except Mayuka wasn’t that intimidating. But Megumi had a pretty good argument. So the green haired girl just swallowed all the insults and stomped away from him.
Her Annoying Friend #1 (the orange gyaru) sent him a wink and a flying kiss. Her Annoying Friend 2# (the boring one) blushed and ran after Mayuka.
And then he was left alone.
Megumi sighed again.
His belly rumbled again, too.
Huhhhh.
He looked down at the bento once more.
Megumi considered not taking it in the morning. It just felt… weird. But he read her text and thought it’d be kind of rude not to, and Mori-san wasn’t someone he’d deliberately want to offend.
She was… nice. Lowkey. Kind of.
Megumi wasn’t sure yet.
It was annoying how she kept treating him like a kid. It didn’t make sense in his mind when he was the one working to protect her, regardless of age.
Other than that, she was… okay.
He thought she was respectable. Had a respectable profession. Acted like a respectable adult. Not always, though, but most of the time… more than The Idiot, at least. About The Idiot, by the way – he thought she indulged too much in his bullshit to his liking. That by itself granted her less points in his Respect Scale. And she could be loud like her sister, too. Oh– and sometimes they’d argue in that foreign language (they did it when he was around), and it always made Megumi think that they were talking shit about him to his face, as he had no clue what the fuck they were saying. That annoyed him a lot.
He didn’t like the way she looked at him sometimes, either.
Like he was a defenseless cub.
Almost felt like she was pitying him. Megumi didn’t need anyone’s pity.
She’s the defenseless one here, ain’t she? Mori’s the one being hunted. I’m the one working to protect her. Why’d she look at me like that?
Anyway.
The whole thing wouldn’t bother him that much if it weren’t for the youngest (insufferable) Mori, because the oldest Mori was okay. The investigation on who was after her and their real intentions was walking slowly; it was clear that they wouldn’t solve it in just a few months. Of course they wouldn’t, now that both sisters were under the protection of the Gojo Clan. Who in their right minds would try anything with the shadow of Gojo Satoru looming over them? It’d be simply suicide. Megumi already understood that they would have to live in “his” house for quite a while.
The Idiot was more than okay with this.
Megumi still didn’t understand exactly why.
I mean.
He did understand why. But he didn’t want to think too much about it. Whatever The Idiot did in his personal life was none of his business (and none of his interest).
But yeah.
Megumi knew The Idiot for more than half of his life now. He’d seen The Idiot intervene with the council to save and protect both sorcerers and non-sorcerers quite a lot, much like himself. Of course – The Idiot didn’t bother with people that would have no use to him, or those who had no potential. The newest “harvest” of his was the first year The Idiot kept babbling about all the time, the special grade, Okkotsu Yuta. Megumi heard he managed to suspend Okkotsu’s execution.
Seeing The Idiot step up for people like that was nothing new; Mori was included in this bunch. Her technique was like a cheat code in a game. She could simply negate cursed energy, the core basis of jujutsu – and it annoyed him a little bit how Mori herself seemed to not fully grasp how absurd her technique was. Bypass Gojo Satoru’s Infinity with no effort at all? Did she even understand that she could stab the strongest sorcerer alive with a kitchen knife if she wanted?
Mori was one of The Idiot’s “harvest”. Like Okkotsu, Hakkari from the second year, or even himself. Of course he’d want to protect the person who could nullify his technique. Whoever was after her would know what to do with Extinguishment much better than her. Of course he’d rather make her like him than be against him. All of that was obvious.
Megumi hadn’t seen The Idiot get personal like that with anyone he had protected before, however.
Well. Let’s be fair. He took me and Tsumiki in way before. Yeah, that was true. But with Mori– it felt different.
Megumi grimaced as if he’d slurped a very sour lemon.
Yeah, I really don’t wanna think about this.
His belly rumbled in protest again.
Megumi sighed in defeat. Stop being an idiot. It’s just food.
At last, he unwrapped the cloth.
It was the same three compartment bento box Tsumiki bought for him months ago. The black and grey one.
He stared down at it in silence for a while.
It’s just food.
Megumi opened it.
The first compartment was just a bunch of seasoned rice. The second compartment had egg rolls, chicken tonkatsu, and some boiled vegetables. The third compartment had strawberries, a little chocolate bar, and ketchup and mustard sachets. Everything was very prettily organized and colorful. Smelled great. She put a lot of food there.
His eyes spotted something on the floor near the bench. A green post-it. Must’ve fallen when he unwrapped the cloth.
He took it.
Have a great first day back!
Megumi stared at the little note in silence.
His stomach felt weird again. It wasn’t because of hunger. He couldn’t tell exactly why.
He felt the same way as when she gave him the stupid penguin keyring (Megumi didn’t know the character name, whatever). That’s you, she said. He shoved it inside his backpack. It was still there. He was too embarrassed to attach it to his keys.
Weird. Strange.
Huh.
Megumi was feeling like that because he was an idiot, probably.
Finally, he took the hashi and started to eat.
His stomach stopped protesting.
Maybe the note is too much.
You stared at it for a while, deciding if you should stick it to the top of the bento or not. Maybe he’ll think I’m cringe. Maybe he’ll be like, what is this hag doing? But you had written a note for Mayu, too (because dad used to do it and you picked up from where he stopped), so you’d feel bad if you didn’t do it for him.
Whatever.
You left the note there and wrapped the box in blue striped cloth.
The sun had just begun to peek behind the horizon. Your shift would begin at 6AM, you’d be out way before the kids left for school, so you got up earlier than usual to make their lunch. It’s not something you did everyday. Your work schedule would never allow it. Honestly, when it comes to cooking, Mayu cooked more than you; she learned it at a very young age. She had to. Back then, you’d either be studying or spending most of your free time taking care of dad… so cooking became her task. She was great with it.
But it was the start of the new semester and you wanted to be nice for once, especially with Fushiguro. You learned that he’d be transferred last minute; Fushiguro didn’t seem bothered by it, but you figured it’d be hard for him. Going to a new school is never easy, after all… he’d have to leave his past school, his colleagues and teachers he was used to behind, all because Mayu needed to be watched over. That was too much responsibility for a teenager.
You hated being a burden for him.
A bento wouldn’t fix anything, of course, but it was the best you could do for now.
You placed Mayu’s and his side by side on the kitchen island. Put all the rest in the fridge and finally sat on the stool to drink your coffee.
Peace.
That peace, by the way, lasted around a minute.
“Goooood mornin’, beautiful!”
You almost spat the coffee.
Gojo walked into the kitchen with an excited grin. He wore his usual uniform and… bandages? Why was he wearing white bandages instead of the usual black blindfold?
“Oh my God, be quiet.” You hissed in response. “The kids are still sleeping.”
“Ugh! My bad.” He didn’t look sorry. “It’s the start of the semester! I’m excited!”
Huh. You’d forgotten he was an actual teacher.
“Good morning, Mori-san.”
Ijichi walked in right after him and bowed politely, wearing his everyday suit and carrying a black briefcase. You already expected Ijichi would come at this hour, as he’d come pick you up anyway. So Gojo came with Ijichi? That was rare.
“Good morning.” You bowed your head in response and got up from the stool, promptly taking two mugs from the cupboard. “Coffee? I just made it.”
“Smells great. Thank you.” Ijichi took the stool on the kitchen island’s edge. Gojo sat on the one in front of you. You filled the two mugs. You already knew Ijichi liked coffee, but weren’t sure about Gojo. Instinctively, you pushed the sugar pot towards him while drinking from your mug.
“I don’t put a lot of sugar.” You warned.
He smiled and muttered a cute thank yoooou before putting one… two… three… four teaspoons in the mug. Jesus Christ.
“So… why are you here so early? I have a bad feeling about this.”
Gojo pouted. “Maybe I just wanted to have breakfast at home with my dear friend?”
“Yeah, right.” You quirked an eyebrow sarcastically.
He shrugged. Clapped his hands once and straightened his back. You braced yourself on instinct. Whenever Gojo did it, it meant he was about to announce bad news.
“So! We bring good and bad news!” Knew it. “Which do you wanna hear first?”
None, to be honest. It was too fucking early for that. But you didn’t have a choice, did you? You never did. So you just sighed and crossed your arms.
“The bad news.”
“Facing the uncomfortable stuff head on! That’s my girl!” Don’t call me that, a conflicted little part of you complained while twisting a strand of hair on her pointer finger. “Your awesome granny wants to forbid you to become a sorcerer!”
You actually almost spat the coffee this time.
“What?!”
“What you heard!”
You let go of the mug and eyed both Gojo and Ijichi in confusion and disbelief.
“But why– how? She can’t just do that.”
“Unfortunately she can, Mori-san. In a way.” Ijichi opened his briefcase and took a beige envelope from inside, handing it your way. “You can read it if you wish.”
You immediately opened the envelope. A sober letterhead was inside. Jujutsu Headquarters was written on top of it in bold, elegant letters.
TOKYO, 01 SEPTEMBER 2017
By resolution of the Jujutsu Higher Council, it is hereby formally declared that MORI Y/N is prohibited from entering, attending, or otherwise frequenting the grounds and facilities of Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School and Kyoto Prefectural Jujutsu High School, effective immediately.
As such, all administrative personnel, instructors, and affiliated sorcerers are instructed to deny entry, cooperation, or institutional support to the individual in question. Any violation of this directive will be considered an act of defiance against the authority of the Jujutsu Higher Council and will be addressed accordingly.
The Council considers this matter closed and not subject to appeal.
Issued under the authority of the Jujutsu Higher Council
You got up from the stool in a jump.
“What the fuck?!”
Ijichi jumped a little at your scream. Gojo put his finger in front of his lips. “Shhhh. The kids, remember?”
He looked entertained. Of course he’d be entertained.
You walked from side to side nervously, reading the letter all over again.
“This looks– this reads like I’m a criminal!”
Gojo hummed. He swirled his mug in slow movements. “I told you she’d make your life difficult.”
“Why is that old bitch doing this to me?! What did I do?!” Ijichi flinched again.
Gojo sipped his coffee calmly. “If you ain’t gonna become a sorcerer under her banner, she don’t want you to become under anyone else’s. Not even for yourself.”
You read the letter again. And again. It felt that your body was a pressure cooker about to explode.
“But– it just means I’m prohibited from entering the school, right?” You looked up at them in hope. “It doesn’t exactly mean I can’t become a sorcerer or whatever.”
“The message is in between the lines.” Ijichi explained while Gojo sipped more coffee and eyed his phone. “You see, both the Tokyo and Kyoto schools aren’t just schools. They’re the core of Jujutsu Society. Sorcerers use it as bases even after graduation. Missions are issued from within the schools. Aside from the Three Great Clans, they are where you’ll find anything you need in this aspect. If you’re prohibited from being anywhere near the schools… it means you’re prohibited from engaging in anything jujutsu related.”
You put the letter on the counter. Rested your elbow on it and leaned your forehead on your hand, staring down at it in disbelief.
“So this is a soft ban.”
“Yep.” Gojo spoke up. Still eyeing his phone. The thing was emitting ding and clink sounds. He had the audacity to play a game while you felt about to melt. “‘Cause you haven’t committed any crime. They can’t officially exile you. I bet your granny is anxiously waiting for you to step outta line, though.”
You tapped your fingers on the counter nervously.
“But she can’t forbid me from using my technique, can she? She can’t do that. Tell me she can’t do that.”
“Hm… not directly, but she kinda can.” His phone went dink and clink and an excited voice went Awesome!. “You need a license to officially work as a sorcerer, you know. Even if a provisory one, like the ones students have. And it’s the school that grants those licenses. Even if someone was trained within the Great Clans, their license still has to be granted by the Headquarters. But since you can’t even enter the school…”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t use my technique.”
“It does.” He tapped the screen with his thumb rapidly. Bling! Ta-dam! Cool! Awesome!. “Kind of. ‘Cause if you go around exorcizing curses without any license, you’re committing a crime. And if you commit a crime… the council will have a valid reason to exile you for real.”
You were walking from side to side again.
“There are ways out of this rule, however.” Ijichi said. “You can fall behind self-defense. Judging the situation you’re in, Mori-san… if you ever need to fight, it’ll be in self-defense anyway.”
Now that you were finally (kind of) getting to terms with the fact that you had a technique… that you had to at least know how to deal with it. More importantly; now that you had passed Gojo’s test… it was the least thing you needed.
You will regret this, is what that old bitch said.
She was working to make you feel that way.
You chugged the last of the coffee and slammed the mug on the counter. A furious, incredulous giggle erupted from your throat.
“After this… what could possibly be the good news?”
Gojo immediately let go of his phone and grinned.
“Glad you asked!”
He shoved his hand in the pocket of his jacket and took an object from inside, wrapped in plastic bags. He placed it over the counter and waited excitedly.
You took the thing – definitely not that excitedly. It was kind of heavy. You unwrapped the plastic bags.
You gasped and let go of it as if it burned.
A pistol.
An actual gun.
“What the–?!”
Gojo giggled. “It’s what you asked for, ain’t it? I thought you’d be more excited!”
You looked at the gun, eyes widened. Took it with hesitance. The pistol was black, surprisingly comfortable to hold. A 9mm.
Your eyes flew back at him.
“But– what about you just said?!” The letter. What he said back then – getting a gun ain’t easy. I don’t think you should have a gun.
Gojo pouted his thoughtful pout while holding his chin. “Uh… what did you say that day at the supermarket? No one has to knoooow!” He whined in a ridiculous impression of your voice.
You looked at him in disbelief.
He was willing to ignore the prohibition?
Slowly, an evil smirk crept up your lips. A smirk that matched his. You understood. It felt as if, at that moment, the two of you were making a silent agreement. A deal.
Your nape felt hot.
That was about one second before Mayu entered the kitchen.
“Good morning.”
Oh fuck.
You dropped the pistol at the speed of light. Gojo grabbed it and hid it under his arm even faster, resting his cheek on his palm to create a visual barrier.
“Mornin’, Mayu-chaaan,” he said sweetly.
“Why are you already awake?” You tried your best to fake normality.
“‘Cause y’all are loud as hell.” She sent you a nasty side eye. Mayu still wore her pajamas. Her hair was a bit of a mess. For a second, you panicked, thinking she spotted the letter – and she was nosy – but Mayu’s eyes focused on the two wrapped bentos. “You made lunch?”
“Yeah.”
She rubbed her eye and opened a little smile. “Sick. Thanks.”
Mayu turned around to open the fridge. Gojo took those few seconds to swiftly shove the pistol in the pocket of his jacket again.
And then he was pouting.
“Why didn’t you make a bento for me, too?”
You crossed your arms defensively. “Uh, ‘cause you’re never home? ‘Cause I never even know when or at what time you’ll be here?”
Mayu closed the fridge, holding the bottle of strawberry yogurt she loved and sent him a nasty side eye. “You gotta deal with this jealousy thing of yours in therapy, man. You’re too old to be acting like that.”
You laughed. Ijichi covered his mouth and did his best to try not to laugh, too. Gojo pouted even harder.
It was time to leave for work.
You took your bag, shoved the letter inside and followed Ijichi outside. The morning was chilly. You tightened your jacket around your body.
Gojo followed.
“You going back to school with Ijichi?” You asked as you walked towards the gates.
“Nah, I’ll just teleport back. Need to be there faster.” He opened an excited smile. “Got a new student in class! I want to welcome him properly.”
You eyed him discreetly.
You hadn’t stopped to wonder how Gojo was as a teacher. Actually… it barely even crossed your mind that he was one. Well. Probably because it was summer break anyway, and Jujutsu High followed the normal school semester. He wasn’t really working as a teacher the entire time you knew him.
He looked pretty excited to start the semester.
It was kind of cute.
“Why the bandages, though?” You frowned slightly. Gojo shrugged.
“Dunno. Been a while since I wore these. Felt like it.” He smirked handsomely. “Do I look good?”
“You always do.”
Gojo wasn’t expecting you to say that with a deadpan voice. His smile widened. Dimples. Ugh.
He was nice enough to open the car door for you (shocking!!). You turned to him for a moment before getting inside.
“Have a good day at work.” You said while throwing the backpack on the backseat. “And good luck with your new student.”
You meant it. It was rare to meet him this early in the morning. You didn’t have many chances to wish him a good day.
His smile changed. Became a bit smaller. More sweet.
“Yeah, that guy’s gonna need a lot of luck. Thanks.” You got inside the car and sat down. Gojo stood by the door for a second, holding the handle. You wanted to know what that smile meant. You wanted to see the real look in his eyes under the bandages. “Have a good day too, Mori.”
You smiled.
He closed the door.
Finally, Ijichi drove away from the house.
Usually, you’d be quiet most of the way. You’d nap as much as you could. But the news made your brain work at its full capacity. You took the letter from the bag and read it again, and again, and once more.
The Council considers this matter closed and not subject to appeal.
“Ijichi-san.”
“Yes?” He replied softly.
You shifted on the seat, eyebrows furrowed.
“Why exactly is my grandmother so influential in this… council thing?”
“Hm…” Ijichi drummed his slender fingers on the wheel softly. “Well, as the leader of the Hosokawa Household, she is quite influential.” That didn’t explain much of anything. He eyed your confused expression through the rearview mirror and spoke up before you needed to ask. “As you already know, Mori-san, the Hosokawa Household is very traditional. They’ve been at the center of Jujutsu Society for centuries.”
“Centuries?” That was shocking.
“Yes.” Ijichi took a turn, entering one of his shortcuts to avoid heavy traffic. “The Hosokawa is one of the many branches of the Fujiwara Clan, you see. Almost all the family branches vanished, yet your family– I mean, the Hosokawa house still remained.”
“Fujiwara?” Your frown deepened. “You mean… ‘The’ Fujiwara Clan from History class?”
“Yes. The Fujiwara was a powerful clan of sorcerers in the past.” You were shocked again. “The Hosokawa house is one of the lineages that managed to stay relevant through the eras. Not as much as the Three Great Clans, of course. But they’re specialists in sealing techniques, which is extremely valuable for Jujutsu Society overall.” Ijichi chuckled softly. “Isn’t it ironic that their most powerful inherited technique is one that nullifies any seal, while they’re sealing specialists?”
Most powerful inherited technique. You felt a shiver.
If you ain’t gonna become a sorcerer under her banner, she don’t want you to become under anyone else’s. Was what Gojo said.
You crossed your arms.
“If I had accepted to go back with my grandmother… how would that benefit her?”
“In every sense.” Another shiver. “Strength is what dictates our world, Mori-san. If a family has enough powerful sorcerers… or even just one extremely powerful sorcerer, it means the rest will have to listen to whatever you have to say, or even obey you. That is why traditional families cultivate strong sorcerers as much as they can. Rare and prestigious techniques are everything a clan leader would want.”
“So she wants me to go back with her to have even more influence in the council?”
“Precisely.”
Oh. So it was like the Cold War. Like the USA and USSR competing to see who had more atomic bombs. Whoever had the most threatening power would become the leader.
You started to shake your leg nervously. Eyed the letter again. And again.
“What did Gojo mean with ‘becoming a sorcerer under anyone else’s banner?’” You asked. “‘Cause I literally am not.”
Ijichi hesitated for a second.
“...The gun Gojo-san gave you. He’s meaning to train you, isn’t he?”
“I mean… a little bit?”
“So you are, Mori-san.”
You were taken aback.
“Could you elaborate?”
Ijichi gave you a quick look through the rearview mirror again.
“See… the Hosokawa Household is a strong ally of the Zen’in Clan. They have always been throughout history.”
“Zen’in?” He nodded. “I’ve heard that name before. Fushiguro-kun is a Zen’in, right?”
“Yes.” Ijichi stopped at a red light. The traffic was surprisingly okay that morning. “There are three Great Clans, as I have already mentioned. These Three Clans are the center of pretty much all political decisions in our world. The Zen’in Clan… the Kamo Clan…”
The light turned green.
“...and the Gojo Clan.”
Your eyes widened.
“Gojo?”
“Uh-hum.”
Oh.
Oh fuck.
So Gojo really really was one of the big shots. Like, even more than you imagined.
“As expected of political affairs… the Three Clans don’t really get along well. They hardly agree on anything, to be honest, and always fight to see who has the bigger influence.” He gave you another hesitant quick look. “So… you see, Mori-san, you are currently under the protection of the Gojo Clan, a direct opponent of the Zen’in Clan… the moment you agreed to live in Gojo-san’s house, it’s like you sent a very clear message.”
It became a little difficult to breathe.
Jesus fucking Christ.
So you didn’t accept to live in Gojo Satoru’s house that evening. You accepted to be under the protection of the Gojo Clan, who were enemies of the Zen’in Clan, and the Hosokawa Household was on the Zen’in side of the game…
Headache. You were going to have a headache before 6AM.
“But I didn’t know shit back then.” You crossed your arms. “I didn’t know any of that. I couldn’t stay in the school, I couldn’t go back to my apartment… what else was I supposed to do?!”
“I know, Mori-san.” Ijichi nodded. “How could you know any of that? But quite frankly, they do not care if you were aware or not. What matters to them is that you became opposition.”
You stared out the window. It felt as if your neurons were overloaded with information. By accepting Gojo’s offer, it was like you signed a contract without reading the terms and conditions.
What did the hag say that day?
You possess a technique that hadn’t reappeared since we were part of the glorious Fujiwara Clan.
So… you were the first person to have Extinguishment in a long time, right? And it was the most powerful technique of the family, right? And if you developed that technique – if you became somehow skilled with it – while living with Gojo, the direct opposing clan of the Hosokawa and the Zen’in, it’d be like a big fat middle finger in her wrinkly face, right? And it would demoralize her with the Zen’in Clan, right?
It didn’t sound that bad.
Not at all.
A mean smirk slowly appeared on your lips. You were wrapped in political drama without meaning to. Great. If they involved you in all this goddamn thing, then you’d take some benefit off it.
We’ll see who’ll regret what, is what you told her that day.
I meant it.
Ijichi watched your mean smirk through the mirror and shivered.
Finally, he dropped you off at the hospital. You entered it, got changed… tried to brush all the drama to the back of your mind. Focus. Focus.
Before putting your head back on doctor mode, you took your phone typed quickly.
you: good morning!
you: i made you lunch
you: it’s on the counter, the blue one
you: i hope you like it! =)
You pressed send and hoped Fushiguro wouldn’t think you were cringe for doing this.
Two days later, he came to pick you up on your day off.
It was a little after noon. You were carelessly thrown on the sofa, still in your pajamas, watching (not paying attention) to whatever movie played on TV. Gojo walked in wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, looking like a business casual model while you looked like a disheveled rat.
“You busy?” He asked. You looked down at your own clothes and quirked one eyebrow. Duh? “Great! C’mon, get changed. I’m taking you somewhere.” And then he was already walking out. “Wear something comfortable!”
You jumped from the sofa. “You’re not making me fight another curse outta nowhere, are you?!”
“Nope!” He answered from the other side of the house. “But you gotta be quick!”
Ugh.
Despite his request for you to be quick, you still took your time to put some thought into what you’d wear, even though you didn’t know where he was taking you. The thing about Gojo is that he always looked effortlessly handsome, so you couldn’t bring yourself to look ridiculous by his side. You still had some freaking pride after all. It wasn’t that hot that day, so you wore a black sweater vest over a white T-shirt, loose black pants, and white sneakers. You put earrings and a thin necklace that matched. Tied your hair in a bun (that type of bun that says “oh, I put no effort into this” when in fact you put a bunch of clips hidden in between the strands to keep everything in place). I’m an expert in buns, after all.
He was waiting in the kitchen. His phone was going bling clink blong again.
“Is Ijichi driving us there?” You asked, opening the fridge to pour yourself some cold water.
“Nope. You’re driving.” You groaned. He giggled. “I thought you liked driving!”
“Not always.”
“It’s gonna be fun!” Gojo shoved his phone in the pocket of his pants and got up from the stool. “You and me in your ugly car again!”
A little evil idea popped in your mind in a second. Your hand was cold from holding the water bottle.
“Don’t call my car ugly!”
You pressed your freezing palm on his nape.
Gojo jumped as if he was hit by an electric shock.
“Heyyy! Don’t freakin’ do that!” He whined while massaging his own nape.
You cackled unabashedly while pouring yourself a cup of water. “Stay on your toes when you’re around me, mister.”
There was a little smile there. Gojo was still wearing the bandages, so you couldn’t really know what face he was making.
You thought you saw a little bit of blush on his cheeks. You couldn’t tell – he had already walked out of the kitchen.
Must’ve been the wind.
Not long after, you were both inside the car.
This time, Gojo wasn’t stupid and already had the address ready, constantly giving you instructions on where to go. He picked the Brasilian Skies CD this time and kept drumming his fingers on his thigh on the rhythm of the songs. You both just made stupid commentary on stupid things. Nothing relevant.
It was the first time you were alone with him since the day at the park last week.
When you. Uh. Almost kissed.
I mean. We didn’t “almost” anything, because I didn’t move and he didn’t move. But it was, like. Heavily implied. Right? Or am I going insane?
Gojo was acting like nothing happened, so you decided to just be fucking chill and not do anything strange, either. ‘Cause nothing happened. Yeah. Uh-hum.
Traffic wasn’t heavy, so you got there quickly.
Before stepping out of the car, Gojo untied the bandages and exchanged them for the sunglasses. It was a bit mesmerizing to watch him do that.
He sent a boyish grin your way while taking something out of his pocket.
“Let’s go, sweetheart. You have a lot to learn.”
The pistol.
You both walked into the shooting club.
In all honesty, it was a sketchy looking place. There weren’t many people there; and those who were looked like a bunch of weirdos (who goes to a shooting club on a weekday afternoon? Weirdos.). Gojo walked in like he owned the place. He stopped by the reception counter (that was empty) and rang the bell softly, leaning his forearms on it. The counter had bulletproof (you hoped, at least) glass to separate it from anyone outside; inside, many types of guns were displayed on the wall. Your eyes scanned the board in the back. Each gun was for rent. It was quite expensive to practice with them, even if just for twenty minutes. You really have to be a weirdo to come to a place like this.
“Oh, Satoru! Long time no see!”
A short middle aged guy finally appeared. He wore a camouflaged shirt with SNIPERS SHOOTING CLUB! written on it in bold red letters. Red over camouflage almost gave you migraines. He had a kind round face that would never have you suspect he’d be at a place like this.
“Hey, Michio. How you doin’?” Gojo smiled handsomely.
“I’m doing great! How about you? Thought you had forgotten about me!” Michio giggled. Yeah, he sounded kind, too. Even a bit innocent. “Came do destress a bit? Your favorite sub is available!"
Sub?! What the— oh, he means submachine gun. Okay.
“No, it ain’t for me this time.” Gojo took his wallet from the back pocket. “Missy right here wants to give it a try.”
Michio hadn’t noticed you. To be fair, you were standing a few steps behind.
He blushed.
“Oh! Welcome, miss! I hadn’t seen you there.” You introduced yourself politely. Michio smiled. His round cheeks were like two tomatoes. “It’s rare to have a lady here! I hope you feel at home!”
Gojo paid for one hour. As he already had a pistol, it wasn’t necessary to rent one of the expensive guns on display.
Michio guided you to the indoor shooting area. He excitedly explained that the area was for beginners. There were ten booths side by side; each booth had a target at a distance of almost ten meters. You put on protective glasses, ear protectors and gloves.
To your surprise, Gojo wasn’t the one to teach you, but Michio himself — which was great, to be honest. He explained everything with the patience and care that can only be achieved by someone that is genuinely passionate about what they do. Michio showed you the basics: how to load, the proper way to hold, the safety lock and other safety measures.
You weren’t ready for the recoil the first time you pulled the trigger. Your arms flew back. Gojo, who was watching lazily sitting on a couch in the back, laughed. You ignored him. Two attempts later and your arms were pretty stable. Three more attempts — you hit the very center of the target. Michio went waaaaah. Gojo went this is beginner’s luck.
In all honesty, it was pretty fun.
You didn’t always hit the center of the target, but still tried your best. There were two other very awkward guys occupying neighboring booths. You noticed them patrolling around you without getting too close, observing. You knew that if you offered even a quick look their way, they’d use it as an excuse to approach — so you didn’t.
Both traveled to the farthest booths when Gojo got up from the couch and approached you.
He was giggling quietly. In his right hand, a pineapple flavored energy drink.
You sent him a look that meant can you believe that?. He giggled harder.
“Ain’t these guys ever seen a woman before?” You whined, pulling the ear protector from your ear for a moment. Gojo leaned his side on the booth’s wall absently.
“Aw, give them a break, Momorin. This place rarely sees a woman.” You turned to lock eyes on the target again. Rose your arms, adjusted the pistol in your hands, put your index finger on the trigger— “And I’m sure they don’t see a woman like you everyday.”
You missed the shot by a lot.
Once again — your nape felt hot.
Oh. He’s going there.
You eyed him over your shoulder.
“That a compliment?” Your voice was consciously lower.
Gojo sipped his energy drink. The lopsided smirk was there. The dimple was there. You wanted to snatch these glasses off his face.
“What do you think?” His tone matched yours.
You looked ahead again, unable to hold your own smirk back.
“Dunno. You’re not that direct of a guy.”
Another shot. Gojo scoffed.
“Come on, now. People tend to hate me because I am direct.” You heard a step, but didn’t turn your head in time to see him standing beside you. “You’re supposed to keep this thing plugged while you practice.”
He put the ear protector back in your ear.
It was an ordinary touch. Probably. It sent shivers down your spine anyway. You hunched your shoulders on instinct.
“Oh, right. ‘Cause I’ll have the time to plug ear protectors next time some guy tries to kidnap me.”
“That’s why I said while you practice.”
Gojo stepped back again.
Another shot, pretty close to the center of the target. He hummed behind you.
“If you want a direct compliment, I think you might be a natural at this.”
The wide smile that crept up your lips was genuine and instinctive. You turned around to look at him again. He smiled, too, like a reflection on the mirror, and it made you feel funny.
“Add that to the list of things I’m great at!”
“I’m supposed to be the cocky one here, aight? Don’t steal my spot.” Oh, so at least he acknowledges that he’s cocky.
You turned around again and reloaded the pistol. You weren’t used to it yet, and the gloves made it a bit difficult, so you struggled quietly.
Gojo hummed behind you.
And again.
And again.
“If you want to say something, just say it.” Clack. The pistol was loaded.
“I was thinking…”
You didn’t like that tone.
Once more, you looked at him from over your shoulder. Gojo leaned on the wall, still holding the energy drink can. He was pouting a little. His lips were a bit wet from his drink. So plump, and so pink, and so fucking distracting.
“Sorcerers train to fight curses, you know.” He continued in a quiet, serious, somewhat curious tone. “Of course. We all know that there’s the possibility of fighting curse users at some point. But mainly, it’s curses we focus on.” Gojo took another sip of his drink. He pointed at you with the same hand he held the can. “You, however, are being targeted by humans. Your enemies are people.”
You quirked one eyebrow. “And?”
Gojo chuckled quietly at your nonchalance. “And it means you’ll have to hurt… maybe kill another human being at some point. You made a vow, didn’t you? I don’t know the exact words, but… I’m pretty sure that goes against your ‘purpose in life’.” He tilted his head to the side a little bit. “So I’m wondering… if it goes down to that point. If for some reason I’m not around, or anyone else on your side. Will you be able to kill, Mori?
You turned to face the target again.
The Hippocratic Oath. Every doctor in the world has to make this oath on their graduation day.
You still remembered reciting the words. Back then – when you started dreaming of being a doctor – you wondered how accomplishing it would be to finally make the oath. How it’d feel that you’d officially become a doctor.
It didn’t feel fulfilling back then.
Dad – the person who supported you the most – wasn’t there to applaud you. It just felt empty.
But you still remembered the words.
Of course. The Hippocratic Oath doesn’t say anything about not killing. Gojo was probably not aware of this. However, the oath does state that a doctor must always have utmost respect for human life; that you must always work for the preservation of life, not the destruction of it. Killing someone doesn’t align with this.
Still.
You visualized a scenario.
If Gojo wasn’t there. If no one was there. If you were alone.
Worse.
If you were with Mayu.
If it was you and her, cornered. Curse users wanting to take you. Threatening Mayu. Hurting her.
You pointed the pistol to the target. Steadied your position.
More than the words of the oath, you remembered the pain you felt while reciting them; how it felt to not see dad standing in the crowd. You remembered that pain every goddamn day. It never went away. It lived with you like a parasite.
The simple thought of not having Mayu with you either hammered at your chest. The mere possibility of her death; the thought that if it happened, it’d be your fault; to know you’d have to go through all this again, all the pain again, all the getting used to the absence of someone you loved – except this time, you wouldn’t have anyone else. Mayu was all you had. And if you died– if you died, you’d force her to go through that again. Mayu, Mayu-chan, Mayuka. Fourteen years old. Alone in this world.
You’d never allow that to happen.
Hippocratic Oath be damned.
“Yes,” you stated, voice expressionless. “I will.”
You pulled the trigger.
The bullet landed at the very center of the target.
A/N: FINALLY INTRODUCING JUJUTSU POLITICS!!!
I'm suuuuuuuuper excited to finally add the clan drama. It'll be like a huge thing from now on. It's one of the things I wish Gege would've explored more in the original, tho I already love the bits he added.
HOSOKAWA LORE!!! I will also add more to what was explained & exactly where granny stands in the council!
To be honest, there was more stuff to happen this chapter on my original plans, but this wrapped up nicely soooo here it is. Also I dropped a ton of new information. The chapter would be too packed!!!
Megumi is being taken care of by an adult and he doesn't know how to react noooooo I love my son 😭😭😭😭😭
ANYWAYSSSS!! Feedback, as usual is MUCHHHH appreciated!! Reading your comments is what always makes my day 🥹
NEXT CHAPTER -- we're gonna start PROPER JUJUTSU TRAINING!!
⤕ It’s crazy how life can turn upside down overnight. In your case, life took a 180º turn the morning you discovered you were the weakness of the most powerful creature in the world.
From a normal citizen, you become Jujutsu Society’s most coveted target. In a world where everyone wants your head on a silver platter, plagued by secrets of the past and struggling to balance what remains of your “normal” life, you are trapped in a situation you cannot escape.
And yet - amid the chaos, you slowly realize that you might be his weak point in ways that have nothing to do with sorcery.
pairing: gojo x (f) reader
genre: romance, fluff and humor, angst, forced proximity, slow burn, eventual smut, “oh no we have to live in the same house” trope, fix-it fic (kinda)
warnings: violence/blood, explicit sex (in future parts), grief, smoking, alcohol consumption, explicit language, me trying to be funny
rating: 18+
word count: 16k
A/N: I finally made a playlist for Weak Point! I think it really encapsules the vibes of the fic. Please have a listen!!
⤕ Masterlist ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist
Your day started with a nightmare.
CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK. There was a giant steel monster chasing you through an abandoned building. It was over ten meters tall; its teeth were sharp like a bear trap and its eyes were two shining red lamps. Its every step went CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK. It shook the building, the floor, your jaw; you felt about to spit out your heart. You weren’t fast enough. The monster was going to reach you. It ran after you. CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK—
Wait the fuck up.
You weren’t sleeping.
Your half asleep, half awakened brain was confused, working slowly. There’s no monster! I’m laying in my bed!
But the CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK continued.
You jumped out of bed. Fell on the wooden floor in the process. You felt about to have a heart attack. Your eyes couldn’t distinguish things properly in the dark, your brain didn’t know what the fuck was happening, your hands fiddled with the door handle.
You ran down the corridor. Fushiguro was running downstairs at the same time and almost ran over you like a train with no brakes, but managed to somehow jump over you (that was cool as fuck!! He did it like Spider-Man!!). Mayu, too, ran downstairs after him, her hair disheveled and eyes widened— what the fuck was happening— what was that CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK—
Gojo.
Standing in the middle of the living room.
Beating the back of a pan with a large steel spoon.
He hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on, but your eyes got used to the darkness. You could see he was smiling.
“Took y’all long enough!” He chirped happily.
The three of you stood in front of the stairs in absolute shock.
It seemed that your brains started working in synch.
It was still dark. He was beating a pan with a spoon. He was making CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK.
Absolute hatred spread between you in synch, too.
“What the fuck is wrong with you—?!”
“—It’s four in the morning—“
“—I’m gonna shove this pan up your ass—“
“—What is your problem?!!”
“We’re going to Universal Studios!!”
The three of you shut up in synch, too.
Silence.
Gojo grinned.
“What?” Fushiguro recovered first.
Yeah. Good fucking question.
What?!
“We’re going to Universal Studios!” He repeated with the fattest smile on his face.
Your brain started to catch up on what he said. You frowned.
“That’s— that’s in Osaka.”
“Exactly, so you better hurry up!” He looked at his watch. “It’s four in the morning now. Y’all have one hour to get ready. Our train leaves at 6PM, we don’t wanna get late!”
Reality started to sink in. Fushiguro’s shoulders dropped, a tired and angry grimace making its way to his face. Mayu was the opposite: slowly, her eyes widened and you could sense her vibrating in a frequency that could break glass. On a scale of Mayu to Fushiguro, you were somewhere in the middle: not as angry as him, but definitely not that excited, either.
You weren’t planning to go out at all. You wanted to rest. And shit– it was four in the morning; you’d gotten home around ten, went to bed close to midnight… you didn’t sleep at all.
But Mayu was still vibrating in a frequency that could break glass.
“Are you serious?!” Oh no. That super excited tone.
“Yeah!” Gojo’s grin got wider, if that was even possible. “Call your friends if you want, Mayu-chan!”
“Really?!” And you almost yelled ‘Really?!’ too, because what?!
“Yeah! But you gotta be quick with it!”
Mayu went kyaaaaaaaa in such a high pitched tone that you thought for a second that she could, in fact, break glass. She hopped around like a bunny and gave Gojo a quick hug (which made his smile wider. Something that was asleep inside your head woke up real fast seeing that) before running upstairs.
“I gotta call Acchan and Hina-chan! I’ll wear— I don’t know what I’ll wear! I’m showering first!!”
She disappeared again.
Gojo was still smiling. You and Fushiguro weren’t.
“I’m not going.” The teenager by your side stated.
“Bold of you to assume this is a request, Megumi!” He was still smiling. Fushiguro’s frown deepened.
“But—“
“You have one hour, Megumi!” He was still smiling.
Fushiguro wanted to argue. You saw all the insults bubbling inside him. But he gave a look at Gojo’s unwavering posture, heard Mayu running up there— and sighed heavily in defeat.
He brooded his way to his bedroom.
Gojo was still smiling.
It was your turn to sigh and put your hands on your hips. Your body was heavy and tired. Even your limbs felt weak.
He was still fucking smiling.
“Why didn’t you tell me anything?” You were very well aware that you sounded like a disappointed mother, as much as you hated it. “You send selfies all the time in the group chat but can’t text that you had a trip planned?”
“It’s ‘cause it wasn’t planned at all!” Gojo shrugged. “Impromptu trips are more fun!”
“It’s four in the morning. There’s nothing fun about this.”
“Come ooooon, Momorin, don’t be boring! You’re spending too much time with Megumi!”
You wanted to beat him to a pulp.
But Mayu had been locked in this house for a month.
She lost the entire summer break. Classes would restart next Monday. As you heard her speak on the phone with one of her friends up there, how could you simply say no?
It didn’t excuse the fact that he didn’t tell you anything previously, of course.
You heard the taptaptaptap of Mayu’s feet up there. She popped at the top of the stairs with a towel in hand.
“I want you to give me a hairstyle!!” She spoke so fast that you barely understood it before disappearing towards the bathroom.
You sighed again.
Gojo was still smiling.
“You have 58 minutes!”
Oh, how you wanted to beat him to a pulp.
Unfortunately, like Fushiguro, you had to settle to sighing in defeat and walking upstairs.
The day would be long.
Fushiguro got ready first, as expected.
He put on an oversized white t-shirt, black jeans and red sneakers. Though he wanted it to look like he didn’t put much effort into his fit, the red headphones that matched his sneakers were a hard sign that he did care. He sat on the couch, brooding, and didn’t take his eyes off his phone.
Mayu chose an oversized black t-shirt (what is it with teenagers and oversized t-shirts?) with some anime boy printed on it, denim shorts and black All Stars. You styled her hair in space buns. After dyeing her hair some days ago, it was a vivid shade of dark green again. You always thought she looked so cute in space buns.
You chose a pre-determined outfit you had already worn before, because you didn’t have time to pick something better. A plain black tank top, high waisted denim shorts, an oversized light striped button-up shirt (who are you to talk about oversized clothes?) that you let open and your good ol’ Adidas. You wouldn’t have time to do something nice in your hair, so you used a navy blue cap to kind of hide it. Silver hoop earrings and thin rings. Just a little eyeliner, mascara and lip gloss. Nice, you thought as you looked at yourself in the mirror. It doesn’t even look like I’m about to pass out of exhaustion.
You took your black backpack and ran towards the kitchen.
There were still some cookies. You shoved them in the backpack. Potato chips too. You thought of putting soda there, too, but that would be a stretch. Doritos… was there still time to prepare some quick sandwiches?
“Why are you shoving the entire kitchen into your bag?”
You turned around to face Gojo — and you probably had something witty to say — but then your eyes landed on him and your brain blacked out like an old Windows computer.
He also changed.
Which was obvious. Duh. Why would he choose to wear his uniform on a trip?
And it’s not like you hadn’t seen him wear a t-shirt before, right? It was light green. Was not oversized for a change. It wasn’t super tight, either, but it felt like his chest wanted to say ‘hello, world!’ anyway. His biceps were saying hi, too. He wore light denim pants. You hadn’t seen him in jeans yet. Or these white Nikes. Another silver watch adorned his right wrist. Instead of the blindfold, the usual black sunglasses.
Gojo was very lowkey with his outfits. But it’s not like he needed to dress anything over the top to look good.
And he did look very. Very. Good.
“Food in those parks is always super expensive!” You explained while putting the backpack over the counter. Great reaction time!, you complimented yourself. He didn’t notice you gagging at him at all! “We have something here, so we should take it.”
Gojo snorted. “C’mon, Momorin. What kinda guy would I be if I didn’t pay for your food? I invited you all in the first place.”
Ugh. You always forgot the motherfucker was rich. Rich people don’t worry about this type of thing, even if they charge five thousand for a cheeseburger.
You also thought it was kinda hot.
Ahem.
“Yeah, but they’re gonna be hungry anyway. They’ll want to eat on the train.” You put a last chip bag in the backpack. “How long does it take, by the way?”
“Two and a half hours.”
“Great. I’m gonna sleep the entire way.” You put the backpack over one shoulder and made your way towards the living room. “Mayu! Did you find your ID?”
You went through a checklist of necessary items (documents, umbrellas, hoodies if it gets cold, money, pads just in case…) to ignore the other thing you had noticed back in the kitchen.
He was wearing sunglasses. They were dark as fuck. It made it hard to see his eyes under there.
But you noticed.
That little smirk. It was different from his usual sarcastic, disdainful or playful ones. It made you feel funny inside.
Perhaps his brain lagged when he saw you, just like yours did.
It hadn’t occurred to you that Gojo had never seen you wearing anything other than your uniform (and you weren’t allowed to wear makeup, use accessories and your hair had to always be up while at work), ugly pajamas or stay-at-home clothes. Sure. This outfit was casual. But you looked nice. You knew you looked nice.
You hadn’t thought too much about Gojo’s comment right before Aoyagi’s interrogation. I’d never hurt a pretty face like that. Because… well, Gojo was a very sarcastic dude. It felt more like a catchphrase than an actual compliment. And you hadn’t thought too much about how he was hot. He just was. It wasn’t even an opinion, but a fact. Gojo was your guardian in a weird way; you were living under his roof and protection. You were developing some sort of strange friendship along this month of living “together” (‘cause he still was barely home), and it was a relationship you genuinely liked. You liked his presence, and though he could be insufferable, his company was stimulating in a way.
You didn’t want to make things weird.
You were trying to not acknowledge the attraction you felt for him, either.
But that smirk right there put you in a very tricky position, because if the attraction was mutual, then… fuck, then what? What would you do?!
You do nothing, bitch, you scolded yourself. Because it’s five in the fucking morning, you’re going on a trip with a bunch of teenagers, you only had three hours of sleep and you’re not even functioning properly. You might be overthinking. Just focus on what you have to do right now.
Yeah. Alright.
Everyone was ready to go.
Ijichi pulled up in a van and you were kind of shocked. Painfully punctual as always. Fushiguro ran to the passenger seat before anyone could argue; you’d rather let Mayu sit with her friends in the middle row, so you sat on the back of the van.
With Gojo by your side.
Well. There was an empty seat between you, as he sat on the opposite window.
Not that you cared, because you planned to sleep peacefully anyway.
But your plans were ruined.
Bold of you to assume a van filled with teenage girls would allow you to have some peace. Even if there were just three of them.
The first stop was at Acchan’s house. You liked Acchan; she was the first friend Mayu made as soon as she entered the school two years ago, and they became inseparable. It was very obvious why. They were both loud and when Acchan opened the door to her house they went KYAAAAAAAAA and your ears genuinely hurt. Also, Acchan was cool as fuck. It was so nice to see the gyaru tradition alive and well in this generation. Her hair was a vivid shade of orange now; she wore a pink leopard print shirt, a denim mini skirt and fur gaiters, not to mention a ton of accessories. She made clink clink clink whenever she moved her arms because of the bracelets. You always thought it was cute how she called you nee-chan.
Acchan looked at Fushiguro on the passenger seat and blushed. He spared her a disinterested nod. Then she spotted Gojo — who greeted her cheerfully as usual — and blushed even harder.
Next stop was at Hina-chan’s house. The shy and very demure class representative. As far as you knew, the friendship between the girls started because Mayu and Acchan protected Hina from bullies. Hina-chan had the opposite personality of the other two, but they ended up “adopting” her anyway. She didn’t have colorful hair or a bunch of accessories, deciding to wear a simple but cute light yellow dress; her dark hair was styled in low pigtails. You also liked Hina-chan because these two girls needed someone more level-headed around them.
Hina-chan looked at Fushiguro and blushed furiously. He spared her a disinterested nod. Then she spotted Gojo — who greeted her cheerfully as usual — and you thought that she was going to pass out.
Heh. Girls will be girls.
And from then on, peace inside the van was ruined.
Even though Hina-chan was the quieter type, it seemed that being with the other two made her vibrate in that same frequency. You couldn’t blame them, honestly; it’d been a month since they’d last seen each other. So you didn’t complain when they cackled like a flock of parrots and kyaaaaa’d and jumped on their seats and took complete control of the radio; because the one real thing that kept them together was their mutual, obsessive love for EXO. They sang every song (each on a different note) and fanchanted every fanchant known to men.
Part of you wanted to kill yourself.
The other part just blacked out anyway.
Huh. Thought a little bit of noise wouldn’t let me sleep? I can sleep anywhere! I am the master sleeper! This is my real technique!
Someone else that had a hidden super powerful technique was Ijichi. That man knew Tokyo like the palm of his hand. He knew every shortcut, every little street; he knew exactly what way to go to avoid heavy traffic and headlights. Most shocking: he didn’t need to look at the GPS at all. Straight up insanity. That is why, against all odds, he managed to get to the train station ten minutes before 6AM.
“You’re not coming with us?” You asked as you jumped out of the van, still groggy after being woken up. That made you kind of sad. Ijichi worked so much. He deserved to go on a little trip every once and a while.
“Oh, no. I have a lot of work to do.” He spared you a polite lip tightened smile and a nod. “I’ll be here to pick you up, though. You have fun!”
You waved him a little goodbye as he maneuvered away from the train station.
You turned around.
Gojo was already some steps ahead of you. The corners of his lips were down.
“What?” You asked as you joined him.
“Why’d you look sad that he’s not coming?”
You huffed. The girls were already far ahead, with Fushiguro even farther from them. Gojo started following you.
“I thought he was coming too, that’s all. I think he deserves a break. He works too much.”
It was his turn to huff. He crossed his arms. Biceps. “I work a lot, too, but I don’t see you weeping around that I’m not having enough fun.”
You shot him a venomous side eye. “I’m not weeping. And you’re literally coming along.”
“Hmpf. So that’s how it’ll be?”
You rolled your eyes so bad that you almost saw the inside of your skull. “It’s six in the morning. I’m not doing this right now.”
“What’d ya mean–?” But you were already running to reach Fushiguro.
It didn’t take long to board despite everything. How Gojo even managed to get last minute tickets to Osaka was a mystery, especially since classes would restart next week; every family wanted a chance to travel for one last time. Last time you had a trip like that, you had to reserve tickets a week in advance. Made you wonder if the whole “last minute trip” was a lie. But… Gojo had a lot of flaws, and being a liar didn’t feel like one of them.
The seats were in pairs. To Fushiguro’s utmost dismay, Acchan sat by his side (she ran to secure her seat by him, to be honest). Mayu and Hina-chan sat together. And yeah. As expected. The idiot. And he pouted his way into making you cede the seat by the window.
Whatever. It’s not like you were interested in the view anyway. You wanted to sleep.
If he’d allow it, of course.
The AC was kind of insane inside the train (did they want to refrigerate everyone or what?) so you quickly grabbed your hoodie from the backpack and used it as a blanket. The fact that Gojo wasn’t carrying a bag himself was nuts. Just raw dogging a trip to Osaka. Was he used to buying stuff on the way if he needed something?
You were in the process of lowering the seat when Gojo leaned in your direction out of nowhere.
You froze.
He had dropped his glasses a bit down the bridge of his nose, so you could see his eyes. He was frowning. Why was he so close?
“You have a nose piercing?” He sounded a bit shocked.
Oh.
Okay.
Instinctively, you touched the right side of your nose with your fingertip. You weren’t wearing a piercing (in fact, his remark made you sad; why didn’t you remember to put it on?); it was the first time he noticed the tiny hole.
“Yeah.”
“Why do you never wear one, though?” He leaned away again. Phew.
“Because of work.” You took your phone and looked down on it. “I’d be fired if I stepped on the hospital with a piercing.”
The simple fact that Remi had her hair dyed blonde was already groundbreaking (and almost too much) for the hospital. The medical field was still very conservative in this aspect. If it were for you, you’d have your whole arm tatted since you were twenty, but dad was like, good luck ever finding a job if you do that. You’ll have a useless diploma for the rest of your life. Unfortunately, he was right.
It was six thirty. The train started to move. You plugged the earphones on it.
The phone he bought you.
You’d already thanked him, of course. You’d already told him that he didn’t need to do it, to which he just brushed it off, as expected. It’s not like receiving a gift like that was bad, but it still made you feel useless anyway. Can’t go anywhere unattended. Can’t do anything without his help. Can’t even buy a goddamn phone.
“Why did you pick the pink one for me?” You asked quietly. Your voice was already low and raspy with sleep.
“‘Cause it’s girly.” He shrugged.
Huh. You should’ve figured he wouldn’t put much thought on it.
Two seconds.
A shiver ran down your spine.
Maybe it was embarrassment. Maybe it made you want to drill the floor and hide there.
You had forgotten that he also saw your memory on that tube TV. He and Aoyagi. He saw the teenage you. He saw your pink Motorola Razr from back then.
That’s probably why he chose the pink one.
It made you so embarrassed that you decided you were not going to talk anymore.
And surprisingly!!! Like a gift from the gods!! Gojo allowed you to sleep!
No poking or babbling or pulling at your hair. He just left you alone. You put that Soft Rainy Night Distant Thunder Cozy 10 Hour Loop video on Youtube and went unconscious in less than a minute. Uncomfortable seat? Giggling teenagers seated in the front? Nothing could beat your master technique.
You woke up already in Osaka, as everyone disembarked the train. Your neck hurt, but nothing that some stretching wouldn’t fix.
From then on – hell.
The stations were packed. It seemed that the five kilometer radius that surrounded the park was crowded by the entire population of the country. You should’ve expected it already. The last week after the start of the second semester? Of course it would be packed like that. Of course it would be hell. And of course it would be super hot.
You tried to somehow guide the pack around the crowds. Let’s go to that side. Let’s pick that line. Get your IDs and tickets ready beforehand. Throw this can in the trash, it’s not allowed inside the park. Mayu, if you complain about something again, I’m dragging your ass back to the train. You felt like the insufferable field trip supervisor. It would be nice to get some help, but turns out the other adult in the group wasn’t doing anything (other than paying, of course).
Finally, at 10h30, you were all inside the park. It was already pretty late, considering the gates opened at eight, but oh well.
As soon as you passed by the Universal globe on the square near the entrance, Gojo took his phone from his pocket and yelled “Everyone!!! Let’s take a picture!!!”. He put his arm around Fushiguro’s shoulders, forcing the boy to join (against his will), while you and the girls squeezed yourselves to fit on the screen. His height was so useful for group selfies. He still made it possible to see the globe in the back of the photo.
“Send this on the group chat!” Mayu asked excitedly. Now that you were finally inside, you started to feel excited as well. This was fun, after all. A park! A goddamn break! You were in a place that didn’t include dying patients or the cat that hated your guts!
“We should hurry to Super Mario World!” Acchan said.
“Yeah– we should run there, even with the express tickets, it’ll be hard to get in.” Hina-chan agreed.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s go!” Mayu stated.
They were already walking away.
You felt your stomach drop.
“Wait!” Was your instinctive reaction.
The girls stopped to look back at you.
“What?” Mayu asked impatiently.
Shit.
You hadn’t talked this through. Wouldn’t it be safer if everyone was together? Sure, you knew Mayu wanted to enjoy it with her friends, and that didn’t include you. You weren’t offended or anything; to be honest, you didn’t even want to go to the Super Mario attraction in the first place, and there was only so much your brain could take of teenage girl yelling and giggling.
But this was a crowded space.
A dangerous space.
It’d be better if you went along, right?
“We didn’t agree on a meeting spot yet, Mayu-chan.”
To your utmost surprise, the other adult decided to be useful for once.
You looked up at him. Your worried, hesitant eyes asked for themselves. Are you sure?
Gojo lowered his voice and leaned down a bit so only you could hear it. “She’ll be fine, Momorin. Let her have fun with her friends.”
He was doing that again.
His serenity. His confidence. He wasn’t worried at all… so why would you be?
“Oh. Right.” Mayu and the girls approached again. “We could meet here, right? At the globe?”
You nodded. “Yeah. Right. We meet here at six. Not a minute late, you hear me?”
“Okay.”
“You have everything with you? Your money? The water bottle?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“The phone charger?”
“I got two!” Hina-chan said proudly. “If anyone needs a spare!”
“It’s too sunny today. Use sunscreen every hour. You girls, too.”
“Okay!”
“You all have my number. Anything happens, you call me right away. Got it?”
“Got it! Alright!”
You nodded like a general. “Okay. You girls have fun.”
“You, too!”
And they were already running away.
You still stood there, hesitating, feeling anxiety eat your insides like maggots. The three were going to disappear from your sight soon. Disappear. The first time she’d be away from you, away from your sight, little Mayu in the middle of this crowd, surrounded by strangers—
“Shouldn’t I give her the anchor?” You were already trying to unclasp the bracelet from your right wrist.
“Why?” Gojo was puzzled.
“‘Cause if anything happens to her– what if something–”
Gojo held your wrist.
It was a calm, soft touch, almost featherlight. His hand was so much bigger than yours. Soft. He prevented you from unclasping the bracelet.
You looked up at him, and you didn’t like how you probably looked fragile at that moment.
“I need anchors for long distance teleportation, Mori.” Not Momorin or Mori-chan. Mori. He was serious, his voice as soft as his touch, eyes calm like a lake. “Mayu’s right there. If anything happens, I won’t need it to get to her. But I won’t need it, because nothing’s gonna happen. Don’t worry. She’ll be fine.”
Serenity. Confidence. He was so sure of himself.
If he’s not worried, I shouldn’t be.
You gulped and nodded.
Gojo held your wrist for a second longer. A second. His thumb caressed the inner part of your wrist, soft and caring. A second. It lasted a second.
He stepped aside.
“So! Where to next?!” And he was back to his boisterous persona.
You looked around– Fushiguro. God, you had forgotten he was there. He wasn’t paying attention to you, eyes still glued to his phone, and for a moment you were annoyed (we’re in a goddamn park!! Drop this phone, kid!!). You put your hands on your waist.
“Where d’you wanna go first, Fushiguro-kun?”
It seems he remembered you existed at that moment, too. He finally looked around and shrugged.
“Uh… anywhere is fine by me.”
God. He was not excited at all. Which was a bit sad, if you were going to be honest.
You weren’t sad, in the other hand.
“The girls were smarter than us! If we want to visit Mario World, we should get there fast!” Gojo exclaimed.
“Nah, I’ve visited it already.”
He was visibly taken aback.
If no one was going to pick a destination, you were going to.
“Let’s go to the Flying Dinosaur, then.” You quickly took your phone and opened the park’s map. “That way!”
You started to walk. They followed.
Fushiguro was several steps behind (didn’t want to be seen walking with the adults? Typical teenager) while Gojo did that again, orbiting around you like a crow.
He was doing that other thing again, too.
The corners of his lips were down.
“You’d already been here?” He asked with a strange venomous tone in his voice.
“Yeah. You haven’t?”
“I have. Obviously.” Silence for two seconds. You figured what was coming a second before he spoke. “Did you come here with Ren–?”
“We’re not doing that.”
“Why not? Why don’t you wanna talk about that?”
“Why do you wanna talk about my ex, Gojo?” You glared at him. “Are you interested in him? Do you want his number?”
He huffed. “I’m not into boring people.”
“Then let’s not talk about him!”
“Let me guess…” He held his chin and hummed, completely ignoring your plea. “You did all the couply stuff with him, right? All the boring rides? You didn’t get to go on any coaster, right? That’s why you’re so excited to go.”
There was a kid walking with an ice cream cone by your side. You considered taking it and smashing it against his skull.
Gojo was kind of right, but the truth was even more embarrassing.
…You didn’t go on any cool rollercoaster because Ren had severe motion sickness. And he was scared of heights.
Which. You know. At the time, you thought it was cute, even. But you were excited about the trip to begin with because of the radical rides. Ain’t that the whole point of parks? It was to you, at least.
“And what’s the problem with that?” It was your turn to cross your arms and quirk one eyebrow. “We were a couple. That’s what couples do.”
“You were bored the whole time.”
“You can’t tell that.”
“I can.”
“Why are you so jealous, Gojo?” Right there. The sucker punch in his guts.
“I ain’t!” He shrugged.
“You freaking are.” You opened an evil smirk. “Oh, I thought jealousy was beyond you. An avoidant guy like you doesn’t have the right to be jealous of anyone.”
The corners of his lips were down again. Like a kid. Like an old man.
“I like to be the best at everything. So today will be more unforgettable than the last time you’ve been here with that guy.” He shrugged.
And didn’t deny it.
He didn’t deny the jealousy part.
It’s nothing, you told yourself. It’s nothing. Don’t think too much about it. It doesn’t mean anything. He likes to tease. That’s just how he is.
Right. Right.
The three of you marched to the Jurassic World attraction.
Lines were huge. Everyone was loud and excited. Having express tickets helped you go to the shorter lines, but those were also too long. I don’t care! I’m going on this ride even if it takes the whole day!
Surprisingly, Gojo wasn’t interested in going on this ride, so you and Fushiguro used him as a walking coat hanger. He carried your bags. Came back from time to time to bring food. Every time he popped up, Gojo was carrying a different type of sweet. Churros, crepes, ice cream–
“Are your check up exams up to date?” You asked when he leaned on the grid that conducted the line by your side again while eating churros.
“Yeah. Why?”
“I’m asking myself how can you not have diabetes.” You eyed his churros with a bit of worry. “Or cavities on every tooth.”
Gojo pouted and had the audacity to send the puppy eyes your way. “Oooow. You worried for me, doc? That’s cute. I’m honored!” You saw him passing his tongue over his teeth before opening a big grin. “My teeth are great! My dentist hates me, ‘cause I never spend too much on him with treatments. I don’t need ‘em!”
“I’m thirsty.” Fushiguro said out of the blue, lifting his eyes from the phone. “Can you bring me a water bottle?”
“Wow. Since you were so polite!” Gojo shrugged and walked away with a backpack on each shoulder.
The girls on the line near you eyed him and whispered among themselves again. They did it every time he approached. They spared you quick scared glances, too.
Huh.
“He has reverse cursed energy.”
You looked at Fushiguro with a puzzled expression. His sentence came so out of the blue.
“What?” That term sounded familiar.
“Reverse cursed energy.” He repeated. Fushiguro had his forearms resting over the grid. He watched Gojo go with a slight frown. “Regular cursed energy can’t heal, but the reversal can. Gojo-sensei reverses his cursed energy all the time. It keeps healing his body 24/7.”
“Ooh.” You looked at Gojo’s back, too, as he became smaller and smaller. A little dandelion in the crowd. The reveal was a bit shocking. “So he heals himself from having diabetes all the time?”
“Something like that.”
“Why does he need to heal himself like that?” You couldn’t think of an instance (in the normal world, at least) where this would be necessary.
Fushiguro frowned a little. “It’s because of the Infinity. Keeping it activated all the time is tiring and damages his brain, too. So he has to heal himself constantly to keep it working.”
You wouldn’t mention it out loud, of course, because you knew Fushiguro would hate you forever if you did. But you noticed it there… hidden in his tone. Fushiguro was always full of insults, rolling his eyes at Gojo, showing his disliking towards him… but as he talked about Gojo’s ability, he couldn’t hide that.
Admiration.
Astonishment, even.
It made you smile a little. Fushiguro couldn’t hide everything inside that hard exterior, after all.
“It’s what Ieiri-san does too, right? To heal others?” Fushiguro nodded. That’s where you first heard it – coming from her. You looked at him. “Can you do that, too?”
Fushiguro snorted and shook his head. The line walked, so you walked too. “No. That’s way beyond my current level.”
“But you will learn at some point. Right?”
He scratched his own head. Fushiguro’s hair was so shiny. The shampoo I picked is doing wonders for him! “It’s not something that you learn like that. Most people don’t know how to do it, and those who know can’t really teach it. Like the idiot.” He shrugged again. “Might be impossible for me.”
If it’s something so hard to do… and Gojo did it to himself all the time, twenty four hours a day…
Just how far ahead was Gojo from the rest of jujutsu sorcerers?
After one hour on the line, it was finally your turn. You didn’t get the front seats – to the second row you went – but oh well, can’t have everything. You were giddy, giggling, vibrating with excitement. Fushiguro was quiet, but his eyes were definitely a bit widened.
The thing moved. You felt about to spit out your heart. Yelled at the top of your lungs on the first drop – and, well, the rest of the ride, too. Adrenaline!! This is what I like!! This is my thing!! Fushiguro didn’t scream, but you definitely caught the oooh’s! and ugh’s! coming his way.
Over a minute later (an hour for a minute. Damn), when the coaster car parked back on its launching spot, you caught him smiling.
It wasn’t a grin. There weren't a lot of teeth showing there. But he was smiling nevertheless. His hair was disheveled, his eyes were still a bit widened, he was out of breath.
You realized that was the first time you ever saw Fushiguro smile. From the moment you met him back in April at the hospital… it was the first time he showed a smile.
That warmed your heart in ways you couldn’t explain.
“That was– that was insane!” You exclaimed, giggling, heaving. He nodded.
“Yeah. Yeah– it was.” It seemed that he realized he was smiling, so he did his best to gulp the chuckles and go back to his nonchalant self. It was cute.
Gojo was waiting for you out there. A backpack on each shoulder.
Wearing your blue cap.
You gave it to him because it’d fly off your head on the rollercoaster. You didn’t expect he’d wear it.
He looked–
Fuck.
He looked great.
You shouldn’t be surprised. Gojo was incapable of looking ugly. But– he looked young. And yes, it was stupid; Gojo didn’t have the appearance of someone older than his actual age, but it was so easy to forget he was only a year older than you. Yes, Gojo acted like a spoiled kid most of the time; simultaneously, he acted like someone older. Like those moments of serenity where he could make you feel safe. Whenever he talked about jujutsu overall. He looked wise in a way a normal twenty seven year old wouldn’t.
Yet, he still was only twenty seven.
Your navy blue cap fit him well. Of course it’d compliment his blue eyes, barely peeking from the dark glasses. He eyed his phone with a playful little smile.
You frowned.
“What you giggling at?” You asked with suspicion.
“Nothing!” He put his phone back in his pocket whilst giving Fushiguro’s backpack back. “Where to next?”
He absently took the cap from his head and put it back on yours.
Okay. Okay. Mmmh.
You spent the following three hours checking which lines were shorter on the app and running after them. Turns out you managed to go on two other coasters, and just because the Waterworld show started and most people ran there to watch it (none of you were interested). You checked on Mayu every minute. Luckily, she replied the same second you texted, and kept sending photos on the group chat. Gojo did the same.
After you stopped to eat, Fushiguro excused himself to go to the bathroom. There was a huge Sanrio merch store nearby — and you went there, obviously.
The store was packed. It was hard to even walk in there. Regardless, you went after Kuromi’s merch (Mayu’s favorite), Hello Kitty (Remi’s favorite) and Pompompurin (Aunt Junko’s favorite). Everything was expensive as hell. A keyring will do.
Your eyes landed on a Cinnamorrol keyring.
An instinctive smile crept up your lips.
“Look! That’s—“
The words retracted inside your mouth. You shut your lips faster than the speed of light.
Gojo leaned down a bit with a confused expression.
“What?”
I’m not gonna say it.
I’m 100% not the first girl to say he looks like Cinnamorrol. Nope. I ain’t doing that.
“Nothing.”
He gave a quick look at the keyrings and then back to you. He smirked. Shit shit shit.
“Hmm… I might have an idea.”
“You know nothing.”
Gojo shrugged, but that smirk was still there. He disappeared inside the store for a second while you still looked at plushies and cute phone cases.
He popped up again out of the blue.
“You know, I thought the bracelet I gave you would be full of charms already!”
You frowned. “Huh?”
He pointed at the bracelet — the anchor. “Ain’t it why you girls like it? To fill it with a bunch of little trinkets?”
Instinctively, you raised your right wrist to eye level. Uh… the bracelet really was made for that. But you were so busy all the time that the thought of decorating it with charms never crossed your mind.
“I’ll have to inaugurate it, then.” Gojo pouted and shook his head theatrically. “Poor me. Always doing everything.”
Gojo took your wrist again.
Swiftly, he hooked a little charm on the bracelet.
A tiny Keroppi. The frog.
He pointed at it and opened a boyish smile.
“That’s you!”
Green. Keroppi is green. Green, like most of the stuff you owned because of the family’s silly tradition.
Green like his shirt.
You noticed, with your heart pumping to a ridiculous speed, that your overshirt was light blue. His color.
You were wearing his. He was wearing yours.
Shit. Fuck. Your stomach was dropping again, and you weren’t even on a rollercoaster.
Why was this starting to feel like a date?
It wasn’t a date. You don’t take siblings on dates. Right? This wasn’t even about you, it was about Mayu. It was about her having fun after a month of being locked up. You were there just to be The Adult.
Right?
Right?!
But then there he was— putting stupid cute trinkets on your bracelet, something that reminded him of you, a character that resembled you, wearing your color, wearing your cap and carrying your bag, talking about how “this time” would be “more unforgettable” than when you came here with your ex.
It might mean nothing. Maybe he’s just being nice.
Yeah. That’s it. Uh-hum.
Shit.
Fuck it.
You took the Cinnamorrol watch on the shelf.
It was a plastic one, those worn by kids, digital, white and blue. You for sure weren’t the first girl to do it, but fuck it. Whatever. Whatever!
“That’s you.” You said, smiling.
His smile widened. His cute dimple peeked. Jesus fucking Christ.
A little giggle escaped past his lips. With much ease, he unclasped his Hublot (a freaking Hublot!) and offered his right wrist.
You put the stupid Cinnamorrol watch around his wrist. It was difficult, because his wrist was thicker than a child’s. You had to clasp it on the last hole; still, it was tight.
He giggled. You giggled. The two of you, blue and green, standing in this crowded Sanrio store, blocking the corridor and an old lady was pissed because she wanted to pass, like two fucking idiots, because somehow this was funny.
And you still had to pay for all this shit.
It took another twenty minutes on the cashier line. Twenty minutes of feeling your neck and cheeks warm because you were giggly and he was, too.
Welp.
Shit.
Fushiguro was waiting on a bench outside. Some girls nearby were eyeing him and blushing, though it seemed that the boy hadn’t even noticed (or cared).
“Let’s go,” you said, stopping in front of him. “We don’t have much longer.”
“Okay.”
He finally lifted his eyes and saw the Badtz-Maru keyring you waved in front of him.
He widened his eyes slightly. “Huh?”
“That’s you.”
You left it on his lap and pretended to not see his ears flushing.
Gojo had already disappeared inside an ice cream parlor. As expected of him. As you walked with Fushiguro a few steps behind, you imagined the little people that made your body function desperately trying to cool down your inner thermostat, shining red of how hot it was, throwing buckets of water on it while it went tsssss. Be normal. Be normal. Be fucking normal.
He came out of the ice cream parlor holding a large chocolate milkshake with extra chocolate topping, extra whipped cream, and pieces of chocolate mixed.
“Alrighty!” He said as soon as both you and Fushiguro got close enough. “Now’s my turn to pick the next ride! Come on!”
Well. He really had just been following you, not complaining about the rides you’d decided. You shrugged and went after him.
“D’you wanna go to the Super Mario World now? It’s probably still super crowded.” You said absently, checking the park’s app to see the capacity in real time.
“Nah! Somewhere much more interesting!” He leaned his head down a little, slowing his pace (one kilometer legs) to match yours. “Besides, if you’d already been there with Ren-kun, what’s the point?”
You glared at him. “Oh, you definitely want his number. I don’t have it anymore, but I can ask Remi if you want.”
Gojo giggled in an evil tone you didn’t quite like. “Let’s go! We have to get there before the attraction closes!”
And then he was back to his original fast pace.
Truth be told – you were already at that point of the day where your legs were starting to hurt real bad from walking so much and standing in lines. The lack of decent sleep was starting to catch up, too. Fortunately, it was already 4PM, so you’d be going home soon… if the girls showed up on time, that is. I’ll kill them all if they don’t.
You took the phone from your pocket and checked on Mayu again. She had sent a selfie a few minutes ago; the three girls pouting in a dramatic way. the lines are so looooong :(.
you: did you girls eat?
mayu-chan ♡: yeppp
mayu-chan ♡: huge cheeseburger so yummyyy
mayu-chan ♡: acchan hurt her ankle tho
mayu-chan ♡: bc of her boot
you: i put bandaids in your bag
mayu-chan ♡: :O
mayu-chan ♡: WHAT
you: figured you wouldn’t have noticed
Three minutes later, Mayu sent another pic: Acchan sitting on the floor, smiling, thumbs up, with a bandaid on her right ankle.
mayu-chan ♡: NEE-CHAN IS THE BEST ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
mayu-chan ♡: …
mayu-chan ♡: i didnt type that
mayu-chan ♡: it was acchan
mayu-chan ♡: ew
You laughed.
“Where are we going?” Fushiguro’s voice brought you back to reality.
You finally put your phone in the back pocket and checked your surroundings. Uh… if you weren’t mistaken, you were going south… near the Harry Potter attractions. So the only place you could be heading to was…
“The haunted house?”
Gojo looked back and grinned.
“You scared of this type of thing?”
You crossed your arms and shrugged. “Not really.”
It wasn’t a lie. Horror movies aren’t that scary when you’re used to seeing weird fucking creatures lurking every day. It’s strange how the existence of curses was so normalized in your life, even when you didn’t know they were called “curses” or before you even knew they were not imaginary. So… yeah. Sadako from The Ring didn’t compare to the stuff you saw in the hospital.
Huh.
Gojo wouldn’t be scared of this type of thing, either. Would he? He was used to killing these things, right?
Fushiguro groaned like a kid. “Why are we going there?”
“Because it’ll be fun!” Gojo turned around, now walking backwards and gesticulating widely. “Don’t y’all know that the USJ haunted house is known to be the best in the country? The animatronics and costumes are insane! I want to see it with my own eyes!”
Fair.
You just kept walking.
Mayu texted a few more times. Your feet were really starting to hurt. Remi texted too – she had argued with Keito again – and you rolled your eyes before reading everything she was typing. Their relationship was so messy. But you knew Remi liked it that way. Girl was incapable of having a healthy relationship, it felt that she was more of an adrenaline junkie than you were–
“Wait.”
Once again, Fushiguro’s stern voice brought you back to reality.
You looked up from your phone.
First things first.
The surrounding area was empty.
You looked around, confused. The park had been crowded anywhere you went; from squares to bathrooms to stores. Why was it so empty now? What had happened?
The haunted house was just ahead. It was a huge attraction: the size of an actual manor, exactly like those cliche horror movie houses. Two stores, painted to look abandoned; the glass of the windows was cracked, but every window had a black screen so whoever was inside couldn’t see outside. A constant fog of dry ice surrounded the set design. The whole atmosphere was very convincing, to be honest. You felt a shiver in the back of your neck.
Wait.
You stopped walking abruptly. Fushiguro stopped, too.
Wait.
That bad feeling in your gut. It couldn’t be because of the burger you had an hour ago. No, it was different. A feeling you were familiar with. A discomfort. A shiver. Something telling you to turn around and run.
Wait.
Gojo had stopped walking, too. His back faced you. His posture was relaxed.
“I knew it!” Fushiguro was exasperated beside you. You looked at him; the boy was grimacing, taking somehow of a… ready stance? Fight stance? “I knew you wouldn’t have brought everyone here out of nowhere without a reason!”
“What?” Was everything you could mutter childishly.
Fushiguro spared you a quick look before locking eyes on the house ahead again.
“There’s a curse there!”
A curse?
A curse?
What?
Gojo’s back was still facing you. He put his free hand on his hip.
“You know, the haunted house scared people so bad that something real popped in there! What a bummer!” He slurped his milkshake. “The park refused to close it anyway. Said they’d lose too much if they closed during the high season. A bunch of greedy fuckers, right?”
It happened fast.
In a second, he was standing a few steps in front of you.
The next, he was standing behind you.
Gojo pushed you and Fushiguro on the back. The boy almost tripped and fell with the strength of the push; it felt that he was a bit gentler on you, but it still forced you to step ahead.
“Luckily you’re here to solve everything!”
You looked back at him.
What?
With his right hand, Gojo made a quick handsign; index and middle finger pointed up near his chest. He muttered rapidly in a deep voice: “Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure.”
Another shiver ran down your spine.
The floor started to take a weird color… no, it wasn’t the floor; you looked up. A translucent dome appeared on top of the house, meters and meters up, slowly making its way down; sunlight trespassed the dome, painting everything in a strange, eerie purplish color.
You were familiar with this translucent dome and this feeling. The hospital had one of these; the house, too, though they felt slightly different.
A curtain.
What?
Gojo grinned.
“Let’s see…” he checked the watch. The stupid Cinnamorrol plastic watch you had tied on his wrist. “I’d say you have around half an hour to exorcise the curse, aight? We don’t wanna get late to pick up the girls!”
“What do you mean– we?!” You’d never seen Fushiguro this exasperated. “What is she going to do?!”
You hated how you could notice Gojo’s eyes locking on you despite the dark sunglasses. His smirk got more evil.
“I don’t know! She’ll show me!”
What?!
The translucent dome was almost completely down. You realized, feeling your stomach drop, that Gojo stood outside of its protection.
“Someone’s gotta look out for the girls!” He waved goodbye innocently while still smiling like the evilest human being to step on this earth. “Good luck!”
The dome touched the floor, painting everything around the haunted house in purple shades.
You couldn’t see Gojo anymore.
You couldn’t see anything outside of the barrier.
Your heart raced. Your mouth got dry.
There was a real curse in there. A real curse.
You weren’t scared of curses back then because they didn’t perceive you. It was as if you didn’t exist; so you thought they didn’t exist, too. But curses were real, and there was one inside the house. One so bad that it made your stomach turn. Made you want to run away.
Shit.
Shit shit shit.
What the fuck?!
Fushiguro was still exasperated. He messed his own hair in annoyance and dropped his backpack on the floor, eyeing the house’s windows with attention and urgency.
“What– Why–?” Was all you could stupidly mutter, because you were already too nervous to function.
“He always does this!” His hiss sounded so bitter. “Impromptu trip my ass! He just wanted someone to do the job for him!”
So–
That’s how he got the last minute train tickets? The last minute express passes? He wasn’t just being nice to Mayu? Gojo was working and tricked you all into it?
Your knees were weak.
You wanted to kill him.
You wanted to punch his fucking face. Make him swallow his own sunglasses. What the actual fuck?! He woke you up at four in the morning to make you work for him?! He– he just dropped you to deal with a curse alongside the fourteen year old?!
All that stupid fondness from minutes ago, the butterflies in your stomach you felt inside the Sanrio store– all gone. Gojo Satoru was an asshole. A fucking asshole. And to think for a second, you considered this could be a date. A date?! What kind of date forces you to fight a spiritual creature?!
Fushiguro was still nervous. He looked around rapidly.
“Mori-san, hide in between the bushes. I’ll take care of the curse and we’ll leave.”
You nodded because you didn’t know what else to do. “What if I– leave?”
“You can’t exit a curtain from inside. The curse hasn't noticed us yet. Go hide!”
And for a second, you really were going to hide.
But then you remembered being in between supermarket aisles with him.
I don’t know if you have enough crazy in ya.
Pause.
You stated that you were crazy. That you had a fighting spirit. That you could deal with gore. That you wouldn’t be surprised. That you were a war horse getting used to loud noises.
Gojo was testing you.
Making you have fun, be relaxed, then throwing you in the fire. Taking you by surprise. This wasn’t about him slacking off or making you two do his job; it was about Gojo inspecting you, because you told him you could do it.
And the worst part – you couldn’t complain about his assholery, because you asked for it.
If you simply cowered away in the bushes and let Fushiguro fight the curse alone, he’d never teach you what to do with your technique. You’d have to be defenseless, useless, under their protection until the case was solved – if it ever got solved.
Worse than that.
You tried to ignore the little voice of truth speaking in the back of your mind, but it was impossible.
If you cowered away, Gojo would be disappointed.
And that, for some fucking reason, despite the fact that you still wanted to smack him, was motivation enough.
You tightened your wrists and dropped your own backpack on the floor.
“I’ll follow you.”
Fushiguro was surprised. And confused. And irritated.
“What?”
“I’ll follow you.” You repeated more firmly this time. “He– he said we should take care of it, right? So I’ll help you.” Even though you didn’t know how the fuck you could help him.
Fushiguro was still irritated, and you felt stupid to ask permission to the teenager to participate. Yet, despite the age, he was much more experienced than you. Offering any kind of support would be the best you could do.
He looked at the eerie haunted house again and nodded, groaning with frustration.
“Just– stay close to me. All the time. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s go.”
Fushiguro ran towards the front doors. You ran after him.
You wanted to vomit.
That feeling— that shiver in the nape of your neck— it had never been worse. As soon as you trespassed the front doors, you knew you were inside the curse’s territory. You’d never felt anything like that before. And not because you were just feeling it, but—
The inside of the manor wasn’t what you were expecting.
A dark place… fake spider webs… fake blood… creepy noises… all the usual decorations you’d find inside a haunted house. And sure, this stuff was there, too.
Under a thick layer of green slime.
That thing— it was everywhere. Bright green like fake radioactive goop from bad sci-fi movies. Dripping from the walls, covering the floor; your shoes were immediately drenched in the strange slime. The floor was ridiculously slippery and you would’ve fallen on your butt if you hadn’t gripped Fushiguro’s forearm in time. Both of you were forced to halt five steps into the house. It was impossible to run.
It smelled of pus.
You were familiar with that smell.
The door closed violently behind you.
Before you could even properly understand what the fuck was happening, Fushiguro’s voice reached your ears.
“Shit—“
He pushed you.
Violently.
You flew to the other side of the corridor. You back hit the wall. Air was knocked off your lungs. The disgusting green slime covered your clothes.
You fell on the floor near the wall — and when you looked up, you understood him.
Fushiguro pushed you out of the way as a flock of something attacked him.
You didn’t know what the fuck you were looking at at first. It looked like… birds? Small, violent birds? They flew around Fushiguro, fast and aggressive, in synchronicity. It was as if you were seeing a huge school of fish moving like one body, trying to mislead a predator; except they were attacking Fushiguro instead of defending.
Fushiguro fought back.
His fists were enveloped in that bright blue flame you now understood as cursed energy. He twisted in the air, striking an impressive high kick that was enough to pulverize an entire line of whatever the fuck he was fighting against. As soon as his feet touched the floor again with a loud disgusting splosh, he made a quick hand sign with both hands and yelled Divine Dogs!
The two wolfdogs from before appeared from thin air; they came from the wall behind Fushiguro as if they were made of the shadows themselves. The black one immediately leaped against the unidentified creatures. The white one rushed to your side. You realized with relief that it wasn’t limping anymore.
You put your hand on the wall, trying to find some support to get up again, but it was also slippery and – ew ew ew ew – covered in green goo. It took another attempt of your hand slipping on the wall and your feet sliding as if you were trying to ice skate to get up. By then, Fushiguro had already eliminated the flock.
Your eyes focused on the last strange creature before the black dog bit it, making it disappear in black ashes.
They…
They were tadpoles?
Tadpoles the size of pigeons?
“Are you okay?” Fushiguro asked, making an effort to approach you. It also looked like he was trying to ice skate on the slippery floor, which made you feel a bit less pathetic. He was barely out of breath. That entire fight, as quick as it was, looked like it took no significant effort.
In all honesty? Hell no. Your back hurt from the strength of his push (a part of you was kinda mad at him), the entire fucking place smelled of pus, and all that goop over your clothes made you want to vomit. Were you going to admit that? Hell no².
“Yeah– I’m–”
You didn’t have time to finish that sentence.
Ploc.
The sound immediately made the two of you shut up.
A wet sound. As if someone squeezed a boiled egg in their hand.
It came from above.
You both looked up at the same time… and you, honest to God, felt about to shit your pants.
Eggs.
Hundreds of eggs.
They covered the entirety of the ceiling. Hundreds and hundred and hundreds of orange eggs; the shells were soft, and a stupid part of you rapidly associated them with Dragon Balls, except Goku didn’t collect Dragon Balls that were covered in disgusting green goop and you were sure those eggs wouldn’t summon Shenlong.
Ploc.
Your skin crawled in pure disgust as the eggs started to… move. Shake slightly. Ploc.
They were hatching.
One after the other, in a wave.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me–” you cussed under your breath, because of fucking course those eggs had to hatch as soon as you crossed the front doors, of fucking curse the timing would be so accurate–
“Let’s go!” Fushiguro gripped your wrist and ran.
Splosh splosh splosh splosh every step of yours went against the goop covered floor. You rapidly looked back in time to watch new tadpoles hatching from the eggs; they screeched like little rats, like hearing someone scratch glass with a blade, and you almost shrieked, too. Fushiguro was fast (way too fast) despite the slippery floor, his iron grip around your wrist honestly painful. You wouldn’t complain about it, of course, as at least he was doing something.
You two flew upstairs as soon as it appeared just ahead. The second floor was also covered in green goop; your eyes quickly passed by a deactivated animatronic – was that a demon nun? – and a less important part of your brain went yeah, Gojo was right, the animatronics are sick, before Fushiguro dragged you inside the first room he could find and slammed the door shut.
For a moment, the screeching of the tadpoles was muffled. The two dogs stood near the door growling viciously. Fushiguro’s back was against the door.
You looked at each other in shocked silence for two seconds.
Shit.
“Why are there so many of them?” You asked quietly in the hopes the things out there wouldn’t track you. You were used to seeing small curses in the hospital, like the mutant rat, or big curses around the city – but never so many like that.
“Weaker curses gather together like that to attack.” He said rapidly. Not that it explained a lot, but oh well. “This house is infested.”
“We’ll have to–” You interrupted yourself for a second because we? “We’ll” have? I’m not doing anything relevant!, before continuing; “we’ll have to kill them one by one? There are hundreds out there! And– there are more eggs down the hall!”
“One single attack strong enough should do it.” Fushiguro scratched his own head angrily. “Nue should do it– but this place doesn’t have enough space for him.”
“What is Nue?”
“My shikigami.”
“Huh?”
“It’s a big bird!” He did not have enough patience. “You’ll end up caught in its attack too if you stand too close.”
So you were a hindrance.
Bam!
Something slammed the door from outside. Some things, in fact, hundreds of small things knocking against the door violently, screeching in a way that made you want to blow up your own eardrums.
Fushiguro kept his back glued against the door. The dogs groaned, their fur bristly, their fangs in full display.
You heard the sound of wood cracking.
A small hole on the door. It was enough for a tadpole to cross it.
Another one followed. And another, and another and another–
A cloud of tadpoles from hell invaded the room.
You shrieked and tried to protect your head with your hands; you walked back on instinct, tripped and fell – there was a bed behind you. A bed? Oh– that was a replica of the bedroom from The Exorcist, right–? There’s no time to notice stupid things! The tadpoles gathered in an organized formation again, a cloud moving as one to attack Fushiguro and his dogs.
You froze on the bed.
Fushiguro fought furiously. He kicked and punched and stomped, each strike taking down dozens of tadpoles at once. The dogs bit and clawed, turning everything they touched to dust. Fushiguro actually knew what he was doing; his each movement had intent, calculated strength, sharpened reflexes that could sense that a little creature was about to bite his nape before it even happened, eyes that could follow their fast movements.
What could you do?
You couldn’t move like that. Not at all. Shit– I did karate when I was, like, seven? Just ‘cause everyone at school did it! I don’t remember a single movement! And yeah, it’s not like you’d never fought in your life before. But gripping hair, slapping faces and kicking someone in the balls didn’t compare to what Fushiguro was doing.
What is she going to do?!
I don’t know! She’ll show me!
You shrieked.
I don’t know either! I don’t know what I have to do! I don’t know how to help!
“Mori-san–” Fushiguro tried in between strikes. “Mori-s–” A punch. The black dog groaned and bit another tadpole. “Mori-san! Leave this room! I’ll– I’ll summon Nue!”
This cleared your mind for a split second. Whatever the fuck this Nue thing could do, it would end up hurting you. You got off the bed, letting a ridiculous scream escape when a couple of tadpoles glued on your arm – ew ew ew ew!! – before shaking it violently. Fushiguro managed to finish breaking the door with one kick; he and the two dogs offered you an opening.
“Go!!”
You obeyed.
As soon as you jumped through the door, you slipped and fell on your knees, sliding down the corridor. Your were drenched in this disgusting goo – and you hadn’t stopped to think that this could be poisonous or radioactive yet – before somehow getting up and running (splosh splosh splosh) towards the next door you could find.
You entered it and slam the door shut, pressing your back against it.
The room was a replica of the dirty bathroom from SAW 1. No windows in this one.
Shit shit shit shit.
You couldn’t stop shaking. Your hand gripped the door handle like your life depended on it. The noises out there– you could still hear it; the screeching, the barking and groaning, Fushiguro’s grunts, the ploc ploc ploc of more eggs hatching. Shit. Fuck! How could this even be happening?! Ten minutes ago, you were just an ordinary person walking around a thematic park! You just wanted to go on some rollercoasters and buy cute merch! You thought you’d have a normal evening with your sister for once!
You couldn’t function. You couldn’t think. There were hundreds of little curses out there. You couldn’t move. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Maybe Gojo was right. Maybe I’m not built for this type of thing, because– what can I even do?! I can’t– I can’t even–
Male around 40 years old.
Civil construction worker. Fell from a height of approximately 4 meters. Unconscious. Brought in by EMS, wearing a cervical collar on a spinal board. Labored breathing. Scalp laceration. Glasgow coma scale: 8.
You gulped.
How long ago that was? A month already? You didn’t remember for sure. You didn’t remember the patient’s name, either. You remembered he had a tattoo. 2010-09-02 ♡ Sana. Sana’s husband, or father, you never knew. The man that came to you while the entire ER team was busy with other cases.
I’ll take the lead. Full trauma protocol. Let’s go— ABCDE.
It was what you said that day.
Only newbie nurses and inexperienced technicians. Yet, you took the lead. You distributed orders in a calm yet firm voice, because you needed to display confidence. You acted quickly because each minute brought death closer to the patient. You intubated him without sparing a second thought, without shaking your hand once.
Wasn’t it what you did in your everyday life?
Patients on the verge of death. Head traumas, strokes, cardiac arrests, domestic accidents.
You walked side by side with death every single time you stepped into that hospital. Yet, you never panicked, because panic could mean the end of someone else’s life. The ER team was what stood between life and death, between a good recovery or life changing sequelae. Adrenaline was the air you breathed inside the ER. You lived and thrived off it.
What was so different from that and what you were experiencing at that moment?
You weren’t someone unfamiliar to working under extreme pressure, the type of pressure a normal person would probably never face in their entire life. The frenetic beeping of a heart monitor; the moment you’d have to get ready to defibrillate a patient knowing every second counted. You could be relaxed in one second, then the next hear the doors of the ER opening, stretcher wheels, paramedics screaming, Tanaka-san rushing the entire team into the red zone.
You tightened your fist.
Autopilot.
No time for emotions. No time. As if you were running into the red zone. As if there was a patient in a critical condition to be tended.
Except this time, it was yours – and Fushiguro’s – lives on the line.
Your hands stopped shaking.
Fushiguro, the fourteen year old, was still fighting out there. Screeching. Splosh splosh. Ploc ploc.
You have to think.
How can I help him?
Hiding certainly wouldn’t be of much help. But at the same time, you couldn’t fight like him. You’d just end up getting hurt.
You slapped your own forehead with your palms repeatedly. Think! Think! What can I do? How can I help?
Something dangling caught your eye.
Keroppi.
The tiny charm Gojo attached to your bracelet. You looked at it, palms still against your forehead.
Tadpoles are baby frogs.
There are hundreds – maybe thousands – of eggs out there.
You didn’t know how curse biology worked, but if it followed the natural course of things, something gave birth to those eggs.
Fushiguro was fighting against the babies. Weaker curses attack together. But where was the mom?
That’s it.
You opened the door and ran before the mere possibility of being afraid appeared.
The ceiling above you was infested with eggs, though not all of them were hatching. Fushiguro was keeping the waves of little curses busy, which granted you an advantage. You ran, splosh splosh splosh, tripped on the slippery goop and fell once, got up and kept running. This house isn’t a labyrinth. The visitors are supposed to get scared from room to room, each animatronic and actor pushing them towards the exit.
If your supposition was right, the house had a U format. You entered it from the right; the corridors would lead to the exit on the left. You were praying that this theory was right and that the curse really followed normal biology, because you were supposing the “mom” would be in the central area – the safest one. At least, that’s where queen bees are located inside hives.
You were on the farthest part of the “U”. You took the turn; the corridor opened to the front hall down there, a different part from where you entered, but that was a smaller replica of the entrance hall of the hotel from The Shining. You stopped on the second floor balcony and gripped the railing to steady yourself.
Down there.
In the middle of the hall.
You didn’t know if you were happy or terrified of being right.
There was a mother frog.
And she was the size of a cow.
The curse was just sitting there, indeed very resemblant of an actual frog; the thing was a bright shade of purple. Mountains of eggs gathered around the curse. You noticed with disgust that almost made you vomit that it was still giving birth; the eggs popped from its back continuously, sliding down its body to form more mountains. There was so much green goop on the floor that it wasn’t possible to know what color the carpet underneath was.
You gripped the railing.
Fushiguro was busy fighting. You couldn’t simply call him. But you couldn’t let that thing alive. There was no guarantee that the tadpoles wouldn’t grow to become giant cow-sized frogs as well.
You didn’t have a weapon. You didn’t have fighting skills.
But your technique was Extinguisment.
The sole property of your cursed energy was a nullifier. Curses were made of cursed energy.
You didn’t know if the thing was strong; but Gojo’s voice echoed in the back of your mind. I’m trying to fight your cursed energy back, but I just can’t.
Gojo Satoru, sorcerer-teacher-whatever, the strongest person you’d ever met in your goddamn life, couldn’t fight your cursed energy. So that fucking frog down there couldn’t, either.
Autopilot. No time for emotions. Not time for fear.
There was no guarantee that the curse wouldn’t notice you going downstairs.
So you leaped over the railing and jumped.
A part of you thought, if you miscalculate this jump, you’ll fall flat on the floor and fucking die. But this part of you had this thought as you were already halfway down.
And luckily, you didn’t mismatch the jump.
You fell on the curse’s back.
Gross!! Fucking gross!! You fell on top of the eggs, felt the pressure of your body splashing them. It was slippery and fucking disgusting, it smelled so bad that you refused to breathe through your nose; still, you gripped the curse’s back for dear life, sinking your nails on its skin so you wouldn’t slip out of its back. You tried your best to hug the thing in some sort of sloppy headlock–
The frog screamed.
It wasn’t an animalistic screech. It was a scream. A human woman’s yell.
It tried to shake you off its back. You gripped even harder. Don’t fall don’t fall don’t fall–
The curse kept screaming, and every second the sound became worse, more desperate, more guttural. The skin on its back was burning. Anywhere your skin touched was becoming blackened. As if you were made of salt.
Your simple touch was killing it.
Don’t let go! Don’t let go! Don’t let go!!
Screeches.
You looked over your shoulder for a moment and felt your stomach drop; a new wave of tadpoles flew down to the first floor, getting in formation, ready to defend their mother. There were so many of them that the ceiling became black.
If there was piss in your bladder, you would’ve pissed your pants right there.
Shit.
Then, the next second–
“Nue!”
You didn’t properly see what happened, both because the curse frog wouldn’t stop shaking, and because whatever unfolded happened behind the cloud of tadpoles. And then you couldn’t see anything at all because a flashlight blinded you.
The deafening sound of a thunder – so close that you felt your bones and teeth shake.
Electricity. The lightning permeated the entire cloud of curses, spreading from one to another in a chain of pure death; they were pulverized one by one, disappearing in clouds of black ash with a last horrifying screech. And above it… yeah, calling it a big bird was the best way to describe it. The winged creature of copper feathers covered almost the entirety of the ceiling.
Fushiguro stood on the balcony of the second floor, watching you with widened eyes.
He was right. You didn’t want to imagine what would’ve happened to you if you were close to that electric attack.
The frog was still yelling.
Your grip around it tightened. You looked down at it angrily. “Just die already!!”
Black flames.
It was the third time you witnessed it. Now, you knew it wasn't flames; it was your own cursed energy enveloping the spiritual creature under you. Extinguishing it.
The curse screamed in agony for one last time.
The next second – a cloud of ashes.
You fell on the ground.
Silence.
Your heart pounded in your ears. You rolled, laying on your back, frozen.
Ash. Ash everywhere. The tadpoles were gone. The eggs were disappearing in ash, too… and the green slime. It was all disintegrating in ash. You lifted your arms to eye level; the goop was vanishing from your body and clothes, too, and suddenly you were dry again, as if none of that even existed in the first place.
Tap tap tap tap. Fushiguro ran downstairs. You sat up.
“Is it over?” You asked in astonishment.
“Yeah.” A thin layer of sweat covered Fushiguro’s forehead. His eyes were widened as if he’d just gotten out of another rollercoaster.
“Are you hurt?” Your eyes scanned his body rapidly.
“Mori-san, you’re bleeding.”
Huh?
Oh. Crap.
You immediately got on your fours, startling Fushiguro.
“I’m not hurt– it’s my fucking nose– it’s bleeding again.” I’m gonna get my clothes dirty!
“Can I help–”
“Yeah, please bring my bag. I dropped outside. There are tissues there.”
Tap tap tap tap tap. Fushiguro ran outside. You kept that stupid position, watching the blood drip from your nose on the carpet. Why is this happening again?
Tap tap tap tap tap. He was back in less than a minute, dropping to his knees beside you, backpack in hand. You muttered a quiet thank you before shoving your hand inside the bag and quickly taking the box of tissues, pressing a bunch against your nose.
You finally sat like a normal person again.
No shivers anymore. Things were looking normal again… no more eerie purple shades. The curtain was lifted.
Fushiguro sat by your side in silence.
You eyed him.
“You fight really fucking well.” Your voice was muffled because of the tissues against your nose. His ears flushed again. Fushiguro scratched the back of his head.
“That was nothing.”
“Nothing? Huh, that makes you sound even more amazing.” You elbowed his side jokingly. “Thanks for saving me from the tadpoles.”
“That was… nothing.” It seemed he didn’t know what else to say. Didn’t know how to deal with compliments. His ears were still flushing, though – and the ghost of a little smile was there in the corner of his lips.
Adrenaline was starting to wear off. Your legs hurt like hell… a spot in your back hurt, too. What the fuck did you just do? Was this place really covered in green slime three minutes ago? Did all that even happen–?
“Congratulations on your first exorcism!”
You looked up.
Gojo was standing by the door.
Leaning on the door frame. One hand was shoved in the front pocket of his pants; the other, still holding the milkshake cup. Relaxed. Nonchalant. As if he hadn’t thrown you two to fight an army of tadpoles from hell.
His sunglasses were down the bridge of his nose. You could actually see his eyes at that moment.
Locked on you.
There was a little smirk there. Something in his eyes you’d never seen. A… fire. Excitement? He had never looked at you like that before. It made your stomach drop. Made your nape feel warm.
“Turns out you do have enough crazy in you.”
A goosebump.
It had nothing to do with any curse now, however.
You wanted to smack him.
Slap his fucking face. Kick him on the balls. He tricked you into this, made a perfectly happy day become a nightmare.
But you knew you had no right to complain.
So you put the cap back on your head, gripped your backpack and got up. Walked up to him at heavy steps. Gojo’s eyes didn’t wander away from you for a second. He was intrigued. He wanted to see what you’d do.
You stopped in front of him.
Snatched the milkshake from his hand and walked away.
Gojo chuckled, but you didn’t look back. No. I need distance from him. I need to breathe.
Not only because you were angry at him. Not even because he was an asshole.
But because – the way he looked at you.
Gojo Satoru, sorcerer-teacher-whatever; the “sheriff” of Jujutsu world. The guy that couldn’t even be touched; who could fly, teleport, warp space to his will. The sorcerer that made grown men shake in fear.
You impressed that man.
He was happy to see you fight.
And you were angry at yourself, at your own pride, because even though he was a fucking asshole – even though you were angry at him – the fact that you passed his test made you happier than no rollercoaster could ever make you feel.
The milkshake was really good, actually.
You slurped everything on the way. You didn’t even notice you were wandering around a crowded park alone because you were still riding high from adrenaline. Your thoughts ran at 100 km per hour. It felt that your head was about to explode.
You reached the meeting spot first than everyone else. But after so much milkshake, you needed to pee.
You found a bathroom.
It was, as expected, packed. Despite everything, the stall was pretty clean, which was surprising. You pissed. Eyes glued to the floor. It almost felt like those moments when you’re at the club, go to the bathroom and after finally having a moment of silence, you realize that you’re drunk. Except you weren’t drunk. Just batshit insane.
Your fingers were shaking a bit.
I need to smoke.
You were about to open the stall’s door when a group of familiar voices reached your ears. Much louder than everyone else.
You stopped.
“...sooo handsome,” a sigh. “But he didn’t even look at me.”
A groan. “I’m telling you, that guy’s an asshole. Don’t waste your time trying to talk to him.”
“You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re lesbian, Mayu.” Acchan insisted.
“It ain’t why!” Your sister groaned again. “I’m telling you. Fushiguro’s an asshole and boring as hell! You don’t wanna get with a guy like him!”
Acchan giggled. “I like a little challenge. I like when a guy is nonchalant. Right, Hina?”
The quiet girl hummed.
You snorted. Fourteen year old girls talking about a little challenge. What do they even know about that?
“I’m gonna try to sit by his side again,” Acchan continued. “Do you think he prefers more demure girls? Wait–” she gasped. “Maybe you’re his type, Hina!”
“Me? I-I–” the mere possibility of flirting made Hina-chan malfunction.
“I don’t think either of you are his type.” Mayu sounded a bit venomous. Like she knew something neither of them did. Huh.
“No– wait, I know who’s Hina’s type.” Acchan ignored Mayu’s comment. She giggled. “It’s Gojo-san. Right?”
Then the two girls were squealing.
“No offense, Mayu– but he’s so– ugh!” Even Hina-chan couldn’t help but squeal.
“He looks like an idol!” Acchan sighed. “He’s so tall, too, right?! And–”
“Blue eyes!” The two girls kyaaaa’d.
“Seriously, your sister’s my hero, Mayu. I thought Maeda-san was hot, but Gojo-san?! She’s allergic to dating ugly men!”
You froze.
Oh.
Oooh.
You were suddenly very interested in whatever they had to say.
“I already said that they’re not dating, though.”
“Not even you believe in this, Mayu.”
“They’re not! She would’ve told me if they were.” It was true. You didn’t hide this type of thing from Mayu.
“Oh, please.” Acchan snorted. “Sitting together? Being together all the time? Giggling to each other? He was even taking pictures of her.”
Wait, what? Taking pictures? You didn’t know about that!
Mayu hummed. “...I don’t know, man. My sister’s kinda insane. But I don’t think they have something yet.”
Yet.
Even your sister thought you were a couple.
And all the other people in the park, apparently, judging by how they’d gawk at Gojo and then look at you with fear.
Carrying your bag. Buying you cute stuff. Giggling and poking you. The way he caressed your wrist in the morning, or the way he looked at you at the haunted house – how he made you feel hot inside–
And then suddenly you were no better than a teenage girl, squealing in silence inside the bathroom stall.
“He is annoying. But not the bad type.” Mayu giggled. “He’s funny as hell. I like him.”
You felt about to implode.
All those things were true, but the part where this entire trip was a deceive plan was also true. Shit. You were so conflicted. Was that adrenaline’s fault yet? Was it because you hadn’t smoked in hours and were already feeling abstinence?
The girls left the bathroom. You stayed there for three more minutes, trying to cool down.
They were all there in front of the globe when you left.
Acchan was trying to talk to Fushiguro again while it looked like he wanted to kill himself. Hina-chan blushed. Mayu was babbling something with a smiley Gojo.
You looked at his face and remembered you were angry.
“Where were you?” Mayu asked as soon as you approached.
“Bathroom.” It seemed only Hina-chan understood that implication. Her eyes widened and she blushed harder. “It’s 6PM. We should–”
“The girls want to go on one last ride!” Gojo interrupted.
You hated how he was acting like nothing happened, like you didn’t have a reason to want to kill him.
As if summoned, the three girls gathered around you with puppy eyes.
“Pleeease, nee-chan!” Acchan begged. “It’s the Waterworld slide! It’s super empty right now!”
“We’ll just go once!” Mayu begged.
“It’ll be fun!” Hina-chan begged.
Ugh.
You tapped your foot on the floor once. “Fine.”
They kyaaa’d and ran.
You followed.
Keeping a safe distance from Gojo as Fushiguro kept a safe distance from the two of you.
It didn’t take long to enter the Waterworld attractions. They were right; most families were already exiting the park, and as the rides were beginning to close, there weren’t that many people. The girls ran to the line. You weren’t interested in getting wet; Gojo and Fushiguro weren’t either.
You stood on the sidelines, watching as the cart went slowly up and dropped from a height of 15 meters, splashing a ton of water on whoever stood on the bridge.
None of that felt much real.
You fought a spiritual creature around an hour ago. A dangerous creature who could hurt – maybe kill – all the innocent, clueless people in the park. Yet, there you were; acting like nothing happened. How can someone keep their sanity after all that?
I guess you really have to be crazy in the head.
Minutes later, the three girls approached again – all drenched and laughing. The sun was beginning to set; light posts were beginning to be lit up. The sky was a gorgeous gradient of orange and lilac.
You stood in the corner and watched as they started to drag Gojo to the bridge.
It was all Mayu’s idea. She had the evil smile of a gremlin. The other girls went along (Hina blushed furiously). Mayu gripped one of his arms, Hina-chan the other, and Acchan pushed him on the back.
He smiled handsomely and tried to say noooo. But he could stop if he wanted; he could free himself from their grip. It felt like watching three kittens pushing a tiger.
Gojo allowed himself to be dragged.
They didn’t let go of their grip. A bunch of other excited people stood on the bridge, anxiously waiting for the cart to drop. Stop moving!! Acchan yelled; You ain’t running away from this one!!, Mayu yelled; What about my hair?! Gojo yelled.
The cart dropped. A giant wave splashed against the bridge; everyone screamed.
After the CT scan, you should probably do an electrocardiogram; because the way your heart was beating so rapidly couldn’t be normal.
He turned Infinity down to let himself get splashed.
Which… shouldn’t be surprising. If the girls dragged him to that bridge and he came out dry, it would simply make no sense. Yet… there was something in the way Gojo joined their silliness, allowing himself to be wet. He wasn’t too proud to just brush them off. He could have if he wanted.
The girls were laughing and he was, too.
His shirt was drenched, totally glued to his sculpted body. Gojo took his glasses off, laughing, and pushed his hair up with his hand, revealing his forehead; he brushed the strands aggressively, sprinkling water everywhere. His dimples peaked. He blinked several times, dissipating drops from his long lashes.
You could’ve gawked at his – God – insane body; the way the wet shirt framed his chest and abs. But there was something in the way he was smiling, laughing, that tugged at your heart with violence. Such a genuine smile. Innocent, silly.
God.
God.
That was one second before Mayu’s gremlin grin was directed at you.
The girls crossed the bridge running in your direction.
“No–” you stepped back. “Don’t you dare–”
“You can’t be the only one dry! That’s not fair!”
The girls started to drag you.
Unfortunately, you were not a tiger like Gojo.
You tried to fight back. Your legs hurt too much to put up that much of a fight. The only “help” he offered was swiftly taking your backpack so it wouldn’t get drenched.
The cart went down. You were splashed.
You underestimated how much water that thing would splash; the pressure even made you slide back a bit. Cold. The water whipped your body. You tried to protect your face with your arms, but that didn’t stop water from getting into your nose.
“I fucking hate you—“ you said, slapping Mayu’s arm — but the giggle fit was impossible to hold back. She was laughing too, and Acchan and Hina-chan and Gojo — Gosh — he was laughing at you, standing on the other side of the bridge while holding your backpack.
Crap.
You couldn’t be angry at him for too long.
You didn’t know if it was pretty privilege. You didn’t know if it was because you genuinely liked him. Maybe not even a romantic type of like. You just… liked him.
It’s hard to hold a grudge against someone you care for.
You hadn’t even noticed that Fushiguro smartly vanished before the girls could try to drag him to the bridge, too… he was already waiting at the globe, sending you all weirded out glances.
And then, finally, you were all heading to the exit.
It was packed. Lines were huge. Even your socks were wet. Each step went squench squench. Ew. You let go of the cap and tied your hair in a failure attempt of a bun.
Gojo walked by your side quietly.
He had pushed his glasses up his forehead; you didn’t know exactly why. It was working as a headband, pushing his hair up and exposing his forehead.
It was rare to see him like that, without anything covering his face. His lashes were so long. His eyes were so goddamn blue. His entire face – it was so harmonious, so pleasing to look at.
Ugh.
“That wasn’t my first exorcism.”
He looked down at you with a slightly surprised expression. So blue!! So blue!!
“Huh?”
You refused to look at him, because half of you was still angry.
“At the hospital.” You lowered your voice. There were too many people crumpled trying to exit the park. It felt like being inside Shinjuku Station during rush hours. “The morning that happened. There was a little curse there and I killed it by accident.”
Gojo chuckled, quirking one eyebrow. Shiiit. It was hard to look at him like that, to see his every expression so clearly.
“What do you mean ‘by accident?’”
You shrugged. “I didn’t know if it was my imagination or some wild animal. It was trying to bite my ankles. I tried to shoo it away, but stepped on it and it imploded.”
He laughed again, louder his time; shook his head slowly in disbelief.
“Maybe it was a wild animal, you know. Maybe you committed an environmental crime.”
“Shut up.” But you couldn’t help but chuckle, too.
Gojo tilted his head to the side and leaned down a little; he was trying to make you look at him.
“So… you ain’t mad at me anymore?”
“I am mad at you.” The angry glare you sent him was enough of a response. Do you want eye contact? Here’s your eye contact. “You planned all this behind my back like I’m a fucking idiot.”
He pouted and lifted his eyebrows, sending his best puppy eyes. “I don’t think you’re an idiot.”
“Then don’t treat me like one.” It was getting a little too crumpled. You were forced to step closer to him.
Silence.
“But I get it.”
Gojo looked at you again, lifting one questioning eyebrow.
You spared him a grumpy look before locking eyes on Mayu’s back a few steps ahead.
“Why you did it. I get it. This time.”
He was about to smile. He was about to say something.
Then some fucking idiot pushed you.
You tripped. Your body was smashed against Gojo’s. His hand rested on your shoulder, immediately steadying your position.
Your head whipped in the guy’s direction.
“Mind where you’re going, asshole!” You growled.
“Are you stupid? Don’t push people like that,” Gojo growled at the same time as you.
If the guy wanted to fight before, all of his will deflated the moment he looked at the both of you (okay. Maybe Gojo did all the work in scaring him. No one wants to pick a fight with a guy that big). His shoulders shrunk and he stuttered a weak I’m so sorry.
You kept walking.
Gojo’s hand was still around you. Keeping you close to him.
Your neck started to feel warm again.
He hummed. “You makin’ me feel bad about it now.”
“That’s the point. You should suffer.” You elbowed his waist jokingly. He flinched. It made you wonder… he said touching you made him feel weird. Was he feeling weird at that moment, with his arm around you, hand on your shoulder? What did he mean by ‘weird’?
Was he feeling his skin getting hot with that contact, too?
Was he feeling his blood boil like yours was?
Did he want to step away?
You didn’t want to step away.
“Aw, come on. Don’t tell me you didn’t have fun.” He was pouting again. His bottom lip was so plump. So naturally pink.
You looked up at him. He’d never been so close.
But you wanted to look into his eyes. It was so rare to see them.
“I did.” You confessed, because it was true. Not just because you went on some rides you wanted to despite the infinite lines; not just because your sister had fun with her friends; not even just because you enjoyed Gojo’s and Fushiguro’s company. But the whole thing at the haunted house. You were scared at first, but then managed to function. You pushed through despite everything. You did something – and you succeeded. Maybe that curse was super weak, maybe it wasn’t impressive or anything. But after a month of being thrown into this world – a month of not knowing what the heck was going on, of not knowing how to deal with your technique – you were useful. You weren’t defenseless.
That was satisfying.
And… maybe the fact that Gojo also looked satisfied with your performance made everything a bit better.
He held the eye contact.
Slowly, everything around you started to feel a bit distant. A bit blurred. As if you weren’t in the crumpled exit of a thematic park with people pushing each other, teenagers yelling and kids crying.
There was you, and there was him.
There was blue, and there was green.
His touch was getting hotter.
“Did you have fun?” You asked quietly. There was no need to be loud, not when he was this close.
Gojo smirked. His dimple peeked. His teeth were so perfectly aligned. His jawline, so sharp.
“Of course I did.” He scrunched his nose for a moment. “You know it.”
You shrugged innocently. “How would I know?”
He clicked his tongue and tilted his head to the side, sliding his gaze away from you for a second. Just for a second, though. When he looked at you again, his eyes were a bit half lidded. So blue. So blue.
“I could show you.”
Goosebumps crossed your skin.
You weren’t stupid. You knew what he meant.
You knew what that gaze told you. You saw when it traveled down your neck, your collarbones, the tank top that was glued to your body the same way his shirt was glued to his; your wet skin. The strands of hair that were also glued to the sides of your face, even though you did your best to tie your hair.
You knew what that meant.
The voice of reason in your head was wrong.
The attraction – it was mutual.
This realization made your stomach drop. Your legs feel weaker than they already were.
And in all honesty, if you were a bit more insane, you would’ve ignored the crowd around you. You would’ve tip toed, you would’ve rested your hand on his nape and crashed his lips against yours.
But you were not that insane…
…and you thought he didn’t deserve it.
Not yet.
You weren’t joking when you said that he should suffer.
It was your turn to tilt your head and fake a thoughtful expression. “I have an idea of how you could show me.”
“Yeah?” Oh fuck. He was so into it.
“Yeah.”
You giggled. He smirked.
Certainly, Gojo didn’t expect that what you meant by that was having dinner at Aunt Junko’s house.
So it was ridiculously funny that, four hours later, you were all sitting around the table in her house after dropping Acchan and Hina-chan back to their respective homes – and Gojo had deflated like a child’s balloon.
You wanted to laugh at his face.
Suffer! You should suffer!!
Aunt Junko greeted you all with hugs and smiles and ooooh my baby girls I missed you so muuuuch and kisses on the cheek. Aunt Junko liked to hug. She hugged Fushiguro, too (and he completely malfunctioned) and went ooooh what a handsome lad!!. Then, she hugged Gojo (and he hugged her back with a handsome smile) and went ooooh you’re so tall!! (she sent you a shocked, knowing look, which you completely ignored). Then, when you dragged Ijichi inside (because he didn’t expect to be invited to begin with), she hugged him too (and he malfunctioned even worse than Fushiguro).
It was already late, but Aunt Junko was a night person, and you knew she wouldn’t mind at all. You wouldn’t lose the opportunity of finally meeting her after so long.
“I’m so sorry that I didn’t have anything better to prepare,” Aunt Junko immediately apologized. “I just have a little soba left…”
“It’s fine. We could order pizza,” Mayu proposed.
“Of course not!” You already knew she’d say that. Aunt liked to cook for everybody. “Huh… I could make takoyaki. Do you guys like takoyaki?”
Gojo gasped dramatically. “I loooove takoyaki!”
“It sounds great, Inoue-san,” Ijichi said whilst bowing his head continuously. “If it won’t cause you too much trouble.”
“You can call me Junko, sweetheart. I don’t mind it.” Aunt smiled sweetly. “Huh… I guess I don’t have enough eggs.”
Gojo smacked the back of Fushiguro’s head, making him frown. “Go buy the eggs, Megumi! There’s a konbeni down the street. And bring us soda, too.”
Fushiguro groaned. Still, he obeyed.
From then on, it was a bit of a mess.
Gojo was loud. You should’ve expected he’d get along with aunt (she was a sweetheart and he was surprisingly easy-going when he wanted to). He was even being a bit softer with her… not even using bad language. That was Aunt Junko’s secret technique: making anyone immediately like her.
There were some unwashed dishes in the sink, and Ijichi immediately ran to take care of it before anyone asked. Mayu was loud, too, as she always was. She rushed to help aunt. Fushiguro came back after a bit with the ingredients. They had a little bit of an argument. Gojo smacked the back of his head again and you elbowed Mayu. They pouted, but brushed it aside.
The kitchen was too small for so many people.
The smell of takoyaki quickly filled the whole place. Aunt made a lot of batter, enough to fill two big bowls, because she always said that “food is never too much”. Well. Gojo had a black hole in his stomach, and Mayu was obsessed with aunt’s takoyaki, so it really was the best choice. Ijichi kept thanking aunt at each little ball he chomped, talking about how the texture was perfect and the seasoning was out of this world. Fushiguro ate in silence. He looked very satisfied.
You ate some, but then the savoury balls reminded you of the eggs from the haunted house and you felt like puking, so you stopped eating.
You sat on the kitchen counter and took aunt’s medicine box.
You read Dr. Ito’s prescriptions and exam results. One by one, you taped the blister packs and medicine boxes, writing the hours and dosages in bold letters, big enough so she could read them.
After aunt was done eating, she sat on the stool by your side.
“The Losartan dosage didn’t change.” You explained to her, putting the pack on her side. “One pill every twelve hours. Then… this one is Amlodipine. You’ll take one pill every night before going to bed.” Once more, you pushed the pack to her side.
“Right.”
“And this one… Hydrochlorothiazide, this one is new. You’ll take one pill by the morning. It’ll make you pee a lot, so never take it at night.”
“Right.”
“Are you still measuring your blood pressure every day?”
“Yes. Every day after lunch. I take notes.” She poked the little notebook inside the medicine book. You took the notebook and read the last pages… her blood pressure was pretty stable last month.
“This is good.” You put the notebook back inside the box. “If you feel anything weird, you tell me right away, ‘kay? And if that Dr. Ito is ever rude to you, let me know, too. I’ll make him lose his license.”
“Stooop that, girl.” Aunt giggled and hugged you sideways, patting your back. “Ugh. What would I do without you, Mocchan?”
You chuckled and hugged her back.
Your legs hurt, your clothes were damp, you had to work tomorrow. But this was nice. At the end of the day, this was nice.
And you pretended to not see Gojo looking at you from over the counter. The way he was sitting on the table beside Ijichi, munching takoyaki, smiling softly. You didn’t know what that smile meant. You didn’t want to think that he looked endeared the same way he looked weeks ago at Jujutsu High.
You’d think about it later.
You’d think about how you were so close to kissing him. About how he’d accept it. How he wanted it. You’d think about what all of that meant, about how it’d affect your whole dynamic if you really let that happen.
You’d think about it.
But not now.
Your day started with a nightmare.
It ended with a day that was, indeed, more unforgettable than the last time you’d been at USJ with Ren.
(Would you ever admit that out loud, though?)
(Hell no.)
SO MUCH HAPPENED OH MY GOOOD
- I'm gonna be wattpad-y and say this is the outfit MC was wearing. I wanted something that would look cute today and in 2017!
- Also, I was thinking of this specific Gojo fanart the entire time. The way his shirt fits is so UGHHHHHHH
- About the playlist!! I mainly chose happy songs bc that's the overall vibe of the fic, but 'start a war' is about THEM. like this is THEM. PERIOD. the only song where i'm like, the lyrics actually matter lol also, 'Wake Me Up' is there bc i think gojo would fuck w this song HEAVILY
- I'M FINALLY PUTTING THAT SEXUAL TENSION TAG TO USE YOOOOOOOO
- i'm a firm believer that strength arouses gojo. he 100% was ROCK HARD fighting sukuna like im sorry you can't say i'm wrong.
- Gojo is the guy that made maki (a grade 4 at the time) and yuta (100% unexperienced at the time) fight a fucking KAIJU his first mission. like??? him doing that to her feels pretty accurate to me. he DOES NOT go easy on who he thinks have potential.
- action scenes are always tricky to write!! i hope everything was easy to understand!! also, i hope it wasn't TOO disgusting. i wanna be creative with the curses we'll face (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
- i love making fushiguro interact with anyone. he's my BABY okay. also, i hope acchan and hina-chan will be back! them and mayu are 100% inspired by momo, miko and muko from dandadan ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊
- ANYWAYS!! I already talked too much! Feedback, as usual, is MUCH appreciated and always makes my day!
- Next chapter -- Gojo finally accepted that you have enough crazy in you, but how will he train you? I DON'T KNOW!!
See you <3
It’s sad to see writers give up on their stories because it doesn’t get a lot of recognition..
Like what happened to the art of being passionate about this fantasy you created inside of your head because it’s fun and excited you? What happened to the countless hours of daydreaming you’ve spent to pouring your daydreams into writing, only for those daydreams now to be blurry and unclear of what might happen next?
Remember that this wasn’t your story’s intended purpose. Remember the feeling of joy you felt at the thought of creating your daydream into a piece of writing, a piece of art. Yes, that’s what your story is: art. So what if your art isn’t pretty enough for others? Let it be pretty for you.
Now, of course, constructive criticism is good and trying to improve the story can be good, however, changing something that likely doesn’t quite fit to appease others, or obsessing over trying to improve your story will only lead to burnout.
If you’re feeling this way, ask yourself this: what lead me to this story? Why was I so drawn to this fantasy world I created inside my head that I wanted to start writing it? When was the last time I got excited imagining what could happen next in my story?
And most importantly: how can I take one step backward and three steps forward instead of the opposite happening?
When you feel this way, remember why you’re doing this. Remember how much you loved putting your fantasies into the art of writing.
Don’t give up on your writing, but more importantly, don’t give up on yourself, lovely.
ADHD is so embarrassing. I ran out of conditioner and I've been too busy to go buy more so I've been showering without for like 2 days. I just turned around and finally noticed four bottles of conditioner on my shelf. I stocked up. I always stock up. How did I even forget that I stocked up? The bottles just faded into the background. What's wrong with me
Just some fun Harry Potter themed headers/dividers I threw together for myself.
You don't need to credit me to use them, but I'd love to see any posts that do use these! :)
i can’t wait for when chatGPT and ai image generation also crashes and each prompt cost $50 an attempt. oh you can’t get your stolen big tiddy anime ghibli art for free anymore? you want to buy real big boy art from real artists now? beg for it. beg for it like a dog.
