Just the thought of Fire Nation advisors pushing FireLord!Zuko to find a suitable wife to rule beside him. He’s against it at first, because their proposal involves inviting noble ladies of the court to come to the palace to be judged through a series of tests. He doesn’t want any woman to feel forced to participate, just because he’s the Fire Lord. And also, because it seems unnecessary. With the burden of rebuilding an entire nation from the ground up upon him, he doesn’t exactly have the time to think about romance. But the council is persistent, if anything. Eventually Zuko vows to himself that he’ll follow through with it, only to deny all the ladies at the last minute. Reasoning that “none of them fit into his standards of a Fire Lady.”
The council lists off 20 honorable ladies and one of them is you. A noble woman in your own right, with a high ranking father from a lineage that can’t be denied. And you are actually excited to be one of the chosen.
You’ve long admired him from afar, having heard whispers and stories of Lord Zuko’s adventures with the Avatar, from being banished to rising above it all and becoming the new Fire Lord. A better man than those who came before him.
Your mother tells you that it’s “unladylike” to go looking for gossip about the Fire Lord, but you don’t care. You’ve kept up with him for years at this point, and have (secretely) cheered for him from the sidelines, because you genuinely believe there is good in him. Despite everything. You’ve seen it—during your short times at the palace as a young girl—his empathy and compassion. Now, watching him lead a nation with steadiness beneath his feet, and most importantly with kindness, you know for sure that he’s the man you always thought he was.
Not to mention he is so handsome.
With gorgeous silky black strands always perfectly fixed up by his Fire Lord pin. The royal garments that shape his body in a subtle, but powerful way. The way he’s grown into himself; self assured and in tune with everything around him.
So fine, perhaps you do have a tiny crush on your Fire Lord. But who can blame you, really?
The morning of your journey to the palace, you take your sweet time to get ready. Perfumed and bathed in roses, hair plaited and pinned perfectly, and the finest silks draped onto your body. You want to make a good impression, not only for the Fire Lord, but also because you represent your family on that court.
But mostly because you want him to notice you. At least a little bit.
You already giggled and gossiped with your personal maids about meeting the Fire Lord (because they are your true source of information), so you've composed yourself enough once your parents look over you. Your mother fusses over your every detail, while your father sighs tiredly, already handing over your fate to all the lucky deities of this universe. You tell them to calm down, not because you aren’t nervous, but because it is your wish to meet the Fire Lord. You know the chances of him picking you are close to zero (though a girl can very much dream), and you’re not sure he’ll even remember you. But you just want to see him. Get to know him as much as you can. Maybe tell him how much you admire his resilience. His courage. Then maybe slip in a few compliments about his hair—and his devastatingly handsome face.
When Zuko first notices you, his world tips off its axis.
No, not because of your magnificent dress, the shining fire lily-shaped comb in your hair or even your titles. But because you laughed at him the first time he addressed the ladies. It’s not anything “improper” (as your mother would scold you). Barely a breath against the formal atmosphere of the throne room.
He started his speech so sure of himself, but suddenly trailed off into something quiet, a little awkward. Not noticeable by most, but you listen to the way he hesitates just slightly, the barely-hidden apologetic tone beneath. And you can’t help but giggle at how cute it is. Breathlessly, pointing your head down to avoid offending the Fire Lord and being kicked out of the palace.
His head practically snaps towards your figure, unbeknownst to you, who’s still facing the floor. How can he not? When your entire body is shaking in what he initially thought was fear. But then he really looks and realizes it's.. laughter.
He’s already gone back to his throne, and his chamberlain is droning on about the rules and procedures, but his eyes never stray away from you. Zuko catches your gaze immediately once you’ve collected yourself, your posture straightening up once again amongst the line of ladies. You feel his eyes burning warm on the side of your face, and when you look right at him, he shifts.
You don’t flinch. You don’t cower. You simply crinkle your eyes in a small, yet bright smile, bowing your head in respect before focusing your attention back towards the chamberlain.
It looks easy for you to do that. Like breathing. Like you didn’t just rearrange his entire point of view with a single gesture.
No fear, no dread. No desperation. Just fondness. And Happiness. As if you were glad to see that side of him. Not the perfection or the performance, but just Zuko. And it silences him, because how can you see through him so easily?
So when the opening ceremony ends and you are led to your private quarters, Zuko still can’t keep his eyes off of you. Even when you mingle with the others as the door of the throne room slowly closes, he doesn’t falter. And then you cross looks once again with the Fire Lord; this time of recognition, and a promise of something kindling between the two of you. A burst of shyness hits you and you look away quickly, but you sneak one last glance at him. Only to see him shaking his head with a fond smile at your retreating figure.
no because nobody understands how hard it was to find x reader fics of anyone in the gaang or atla fandom in general before this movie came out. now there’s new fics coming out daily. I USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS‼️
𓊆 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 𓊇 Having all your group mates workload dumped onto you seems like hell, but maybe a few good things come out of it after all!
𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 .ᐟ yearbook!reader x basketball player!megumi, fluff, nervy conversation and laughter, coach!gojo + todo mentioned, first time officially meeting!
꒰ ֶָ ♥︎ : 𝓘𝐋𝐋𝐈'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐙 ⸝⸝ layout creds: @/jacksabbotts ⸝⸝ divider creds: @/cursed-carmine ⸝⸝ this makes more sense if you’ve read yb!reader and bball player’s hcs here!! ⸝⸝ i’m gonna be honest this was proofread half asleep
“We need pictures and at least one interview from a player to complete our sports spread. Our deadline is next Monday—spreads are due the night before, got it?”
“Got it.” You replied, sitting up right in your chair as you fiddled with the corner of your shirt, eyes tracking your teacher.
You let out a soft sigh of irritation as she finished explaining instructions to your group before moving onto the next couple of students, your group mates rolling their eyes as they got back to doing nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Yearbook was one of the more easier classes on the course list. Take pictures, make them cute, and the interviews and commentary practically finished themselves. It was a top choice for a lot of students, more specifically—extremely lazy students. The one real job you really had was turning in your spreads on time, and even then the useless kids in your class would get the rest behind on deadlines…so you were forced to work with them. You had to if you wanted to keep on track.
3 other girls were in your group—seniors you didn’t exactly know, but it didn’t hurt to try and get them to put some effort into their pictures and interviews…
“Excuse me, I think maybe I should talk to the track team and get their pictures while you guys get basketball—”
Their entire small group looks at you, looks at each other and then smile like they were making a joke you weren’t in on. One of the girls sitting to your left sent the other 2 a look before they started to get up. Were they already getting prepped for pictures? Oh Thank God…and to think you’d be alone, bearing all the weight—
“We were actually gonna skip in our cars…but hey I’ll totally pay you back with like some coffee or something.”
Of course they were…
“Well don’t you think you should at least do something before you go? I mean not even a few pictures?” You spoke up, shoving down the urge to just roll your eyes and scream at their indifferent faces. Why take a class you weren’t even interested in?
The main girl made a face at you, her two minions long gone under the guise of going out to complete their assignments. Something they actually should’ve been doing…
She took a step closer, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. One up and down glance from her—the condescending look on her face—it made your blood boil. “You’re…irritating. Did you know that? Just stay out of my way—be glad I even offered to give you something in return.”
Return!? A coffee!? Seriously?
“Well you’re—”
“I’m done here.” She stated. Like it was nothing—before beginning to walk away, leaving you sitting in your chair. Dumbfounded.
What the hell? Seriously, do all seniors think they have some high and mighty authority? Screw her and her license…and her stupid car and even stupider coffee!!
You turn back around to your computer, instinctively writing down the names of the players you’d now have to take care of and come up with questions for due to your careless teammates. Karma would bite them in the ass…you hope.
“Breathe..just breathe.” You whispered to yourself, your faux serene voice contradicting the tight grip on your pencil. Convincing yourself you’re gonna be fine is so taxing…
With your completed list, camera, and pencil you make your way through the crowded classroom, grabbing a pass before slipping out the door. You begin to walk around the halls, allowing yourself a breather before glancing at your list. “Number one..basketball. Megumi Fushiguro.”
Megumi Fushiguro..he was sort of just there. A background character in your life…a pretty cute background character—which made him a distraction. But you had to talk to him now..so what did it hurt if you let your guard down? It’s for school! It’s educational!
Maybe everything happened for a reason..It certainly didn’t add to your previous agitation that he’d be the first one you’d interview…
A small smile you’d fought so hard to hold back curled the corners of your lips ever so slightly, your steps developing a tiny skip as you made your way to the gym.
“Quit it..it’s just for class. You haven’t even talked to the guy. Photos. Questions. That’s it.” You murmured to yourself, stopping short of the gymnasium door as you heard the sounds of sneaker clad feet running across the floor, the loud booms of a dribbling ball. Was there a game today?
Your question was answered when you opened the door. A few scattered parents filled the bleachers while coaches stood to the side along with benched players. Megumi was on the court in his jersey. His usual pointy, neat hair had fallen a bit flat from the humidity and sweat—and you’d be lying if he said he didn’t look..well…nice. Really nice actually—
“Well what do we have here? My favorite picture-clicker student!”
Gojo…
You look behind you to see one of the basketball coaches—Coach Satoru—one of the teachers who was almost just as lazy as the students. Almost.
“Hi Coach…” you replied, eyes drifting back to a certain player on court while your fingers twisted around the strap of your camera that dangled around your neck.
Gojo smiled proudly as he noticed your wandering gaze, oblivious to the specific boy that had your attention at the moment. “Are you here to take pictures of my team? Well you’re in luck! My skillful, talented, varsity boys will blow you away with their awesome skills. Skills I—Satoru Gojo—have made them form and develop!”
God, did he ever shut up..?
You stared up at him, feigning interest as you nodded your head—pretending to listen to his cocky rambling…
“Actually—speaking of pictures! I should go take some. It’s my job and all..so…”
“Get good shots!” He laughed, waving you off as you turned around—your face immediately falling flat. He seriously cannot believe he’s that funny…
You place your supplies down on the front bleacher seats closest to the court while you set up your camera, slowly bringing it to your eyes after fixing up the iso and aperture…
Everything seemed cleaner somehow through the lens of a camera. Each player’s movements seemed smoother. Quicker. Especially a certain blue-haired boy’s. You couldn’t help but move your camera’s position so Megumi was in frame, catching each bounce of his hair, each lift of his shirt and flutter of his lashes. Not a single shot was taken. Not until he saw you—and looked directly into the camera.
Shit shit shit.
You clicked the shutter button on accident, your focus fumbling similarly to Megumi’s missed shot—the ball bouncing right out of the boundaries of the court.
You looked away to the side for a moment, pretending to be occupied with how beautiful the ceiling looked just to look back and make eye contact with him once again—except this time he was sitting to the side. Warm and slightly sweaty…with a few hairs sticking to his forehead—eyes directly on you.
“Just kill me now.” You thought, occupying your fingers with fidgeting with the camera’s buttons, your gaze drifting back to the rest of the players still on the court. “Focus…” you told yourself, finally able to get a few usable pictures without the walking temptation distracting you…
But you weren’t that strong. You just wanted a peek! You didn’t expect him to be looking at you once again—flushed red while his friend—Todo you think…laughed beside him. You couldn’t help but feel anxious. It probably wasn’t even about you…just be calm. Totally..calm. They’re not laughing at you or your weird staring earlier. Nope. Nopenopenope…
Oh gosh you still had to interview him after game…fuck..
After coming back to the realization you’d have to talk to the boy who’d caught you staring at him earlier, time suddenly seemed to speed up. Players were swapped, some were benched—shots were made, pictures were snapped. Blah blah blah…It had only truly hit you when the game was over and parents began to disperse out of the school building, leaving just the home players and coaches.
You watched them all huddle around Coach Satoru, probably speaking about the game. Bad plays, good plays, improvement, etc. You took the time to hook your camera around your neck and grab your list and paper—quickly making your way to the group.
You notice the way Megumi’s head looks up at Gojo. How he listens intently to the feedback and criticism he receives without a comeback. He looks so…tranquil, even after a hard game. It’s..admirable to present yourself so beautifully. Perfect. He was sort of…perfect.
“Yoohoo!”
Why’d Gojo always ruin your private thoughtful moments..?
With their coaches attention falling on you the rest of the players look at you—including Megumi—who now had an impassive expression on his face. “Need an interviewee?” Gojo spoke, wiggling his eyebrows while flashing all pearly white teeth at you.
You swallowed hard, tapping your pencil against your hand. “Megumi. Megumi Fushiguro.” You watch his eyebrows rise slighlty, watch his friends nudge him towards you—especially Todo who gave an extra strong push. The small, seemingly irrelevant action squeezes your heart. Did he really feel that…begrudgingly towards you?
“It would be a quick interview. Nothing worthy of the New York Times.” You joked, awkwardly clearing your throat as Megumi moved to step in beside you. “I’ll be fast, Coach. Promise.”
“Psshhhhh take your time.” Gojo laughed, waving his star player off. “Megumi needs a little time to talk..he doesn’t do much of it.”
“Right..” you nodded, walking out into the hallway just outside the gym, trying to forget about the look Todo sent the boy walking beside you…
You cleared your throat as you made it outside, finally face to face. You watched him play around with the hem of his jersey, watched his eyes stick to the floor. He was obviously more nervous than you and for some reason it put you more at ease…in an odd sort of way..
“I’ll just get to the point. I don’t want to keep you any longer than I should..” You start, looking up at him through your lashes to watch him nod his head, green lighting you to begin.
“Full name Megumi Fushiguro…what made you want to start playing basketball?”
“I-uh..I didn’t really want to play actually…one of the older coaches recommended me to come to try outs and I did fairly good so I got on varsity.”
“Well you must have been more than fairly good to get on varsity your first year.” You smiled, your shoulders slowly relaxing as he continued to speak. It felt more like a real, natural conversation than a routine interview the more you spoke.
“I guess I’m selling myself short…” Megumi muttered, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.
“So would you say basketballs a big part of your life?”
“Uh..I-I don’t know..I joined two weeks ago. Today was my first real game actually.”
“Great going..” you thought, mentally slapping yourself as he stared at you blankly—like a painting it was like his eyes never moved.
“Shit—yeah..sorry..forgot.” You replied, pressing your lips together as you scrambled for another question to ask.
“So how was—”
“I’m sorry—”
You laughed the instant you both spoke at the same time, Megumi’s eyes softening slowly as he took in your carefree expression. Smiling happily.
“What..what are you sorry for?”
He looked up at you, nibbling at the corner of his lip. “I..I caught myself looking at you a lot back there and I just wanted to say I didn’t mean to. My friend says my eyes are a bit unsettling..and I didn’t want to freak you.”
He seemed more lax than he did before the interview started yet he still seemed worse than you, and you couldn’t help but laugh back. “It’s fine…is your friend the black haired boy? Todo?”
He smiled a bit wider, nodding his head. “How could you tell?”
“Just a hunch.”
The rest of the “interview” flowed like smooth ocean waves, each one overlapping over the other. Your “quick” questions dragging near 20 minutes, but you just couldn’t stop…at least not until time didn’t matter. The loud bell indicating the next class period snapped you both out of your conversation—eyes widening. “Shit—I forgot how long it’d been. Im sorry—I have to go.” You mumbled out, watching his eyebrows suddenly pinch together. “No..no, yeah. I..I’ll see you then. I hope my answers were helpful.”
“They were” you smiled, beginning to walk away from him. Maybe it was fate today that those girls had ditched you, but another deep betraying feeling lingered in your stomach next to the newfound happiness. Guilt. You felt a bit guilty for letting yourself fall into something so trivial like a crush—so deeply and easily. On one hand you couldn’t help but feel Meguni was a distraction. Something to sidetrack you, but on the other…you wanted a distraction. Something to ease your pressure cooker lifestyle…if only there was a way—
word count: 12.2k
warnings: shibuya + light culling game arc spoilers but not very canon compliant lmfao. suggested major character death, heavy themes of depression (not reader) including: not eating, insomnia, feelings of worthlessness + suicidal ideation. mentions of needles, stitches, + blood. heavy angst with a happy ending.
summary: megumi tried to tell her not to go to that station. all he can do now is think that he should've tried harder.
more info: rivals/friends to lovers, lots of hurt/some comfort, megumi has reached ultimate functioning angst in this
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
[ it’s not easy for me to talk about // i have heavy heartstrings. and not simple, it’s trigonometry // it’s hard to express // i can’t explain // ever since my baby went away, it’s been the blackest day ]
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“I don’t care that they assigned me to go with Nanami,”
Her voice came out in a huff, irritation getting the better of her, and it was starting to become quite noticeable. Her chest was puffed, her lips were pulled into a snarl that looked completely unnatural on her usually bright features. The hand that wasn’t holding a short sword was curled into a fist so tight it began to tremble.
“Itadori needs my help more” She finished, sounding sure of this change of plan.
Megumi cursed under his breath, this petty argument being the last thing he was in the mood for. There was no time for some ridiculous change in team ups. The pairings had already been decided, and had happened for a reason. With a veil over Shibuya making communication impossible, a change like this was absurd.
“You don’t get to just pick and choose what you want to do, (y/n),” He snapped back at her, before aggressively pointing in the direction of Nanami’s team, where he and Takuma had just taken off.
It hadn’t been until too late that Megumi caught (y/n) hovering away from her group, looking lost under a flickering street lamp as she gazed off in the opposite direction of her team, chewing on her lip as she worried about her other classmate headed for the train station. Had Megumi noticed sooner, he probably wouldn’t be standing here fighting with her right now. He probably could’ve hollered for Nanami or Takuma to circle back and drag her off if they had to. But they were too far gone now to yell after, and his phone was useless.
“These teams were drawn up for a reason,” He muttered. “Now you’ve rendered it useless”
She rolls her eyes at his drama, turning to head off towards the train station, not caring about winning this argument. There were more important things to do right now than stand here and bicker with Megumi. She was getting tired of this repetitive game of his anyways.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He took a large step towards her, making her halt in her tracks before she could get very far.
“I told you,” She snapped back. “I’m going after Yuuji. Something’s not right. I can feel it”
Megumi’s eyes widened and twitched.
“You can’t be serious”
“Does it look like I’m joking?”
Her expression didn’t flinch. He could tell by the hardness in her eyes that she’d set her mind to this new plan of hers, and no matter how stupid it was, he knew deep down she wasn’t going to waver on it.
“You’re not going off on your own,” Megumi scoffs, hoping he could get her to see that she’d be walking right into a trap if she split off by herself. “Do you even know your way there?”
“I think I’m capable of reading street signs, Fushiguro”
Surname. Ouch. He was only succeeding in pissing her off.
“Just- god, just come with me, alright?” He suggests instead, thinking a compromise would sway her. “Going off by yourself right now is reckless and you know it. Come on. If the roles were reversed you wouldn’t let me do this”
Her eyes narrow, and she clenches her jaw.
“I’m not going to stand here and play the ‘what if’ game with you,” She told him. “You’re wasting time. If you cross paths with anyone, tell them I went after Yuuji”
“(y/n)-”
Before he could come up with another argument- or resort to picking her up off the ground and forcing her not to go- she was already turning on her heels and breaking into a full sprint.
Megumi had tried to follow her, but she’d always been faster than him. He called after her until his throat burned raw. Eventually he had to go off with his own team, knowing if he strayed too far then he was putting himself at just as great a risk as she’d been.
But fuck, had he made a mistake in not pushing himself to follow her.
Even if they’d both died trying to get to Yuuji, he thinks it would’ve been better than this.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Megumi wakes up that morning looking like he was in just as terrible of a state as he had the day before. And the day before that. And every day before that for the last six days.
It had been a week since the incident with Shibuya, and with every day that passed and the more ground they covered, Megumi was starting to feel worse.
Yuuta silently offered up an apple he’d found at the last shop they’d raided. Megumi barely glanced at it before shaking his head, going right to work rolling up the sleeping bag that was starting to get worn and dirty. Yuuta frowned, crouching down beside the younger man to talk quietly with him.
“You should eat something,” He suggests calmly. “When was the last time you’ve eaten anything?”
Megumi tries not to appear annoyed. He knows Yuuta is only trying to look out for him, he’d been trying to look out for everyone. Unfortunately since the impact of Shibuya, it was hard to keep everyone in check and healthy.
“Ate last night” Megumi replied.
Yuuta frowned.
“You had a bite of a loaf of bread” He replied knowingly.
Megumi paused in his movements, his sleeping bag rolled up part way, and his eyes caught the beginnings of a hole that he hadn’t noticed before. It must’ve gotten caught on some rubble or debris and torn the nylon. He frowned at the supposed tear-proof material. If it worsened it would be a nuisance, and if he was out of a sleeping bag, well, who knew when or if he’d come across another one.
Pushing that worry off for a later time, he glanced at Yuuta over his shoulder. His face was blank, as it had been for the better part of the last week.
“You don’t need to keep tabs on me,” He said. “I’m fine”
Yuuta held his stare for a long moment, hoping that if he let the lie sit there for long enough, Megumi would realize how empty it sounded.
But he didn’t budge.
So Yuuta sighs, standing and dropping the apple back into a paper bag and rolling it up so it’d tuck neatly in the backpack of supplies they’d been gathering.
“You know eventually, you’ll need to eat something,” He says matter-of-factly. “If we come across something and you don’t have the energy to fight-”
“I said I’m fine”
Despite the harsh words, Megumi’s voice is monotone, and not all that loud. In fact, he’s almost whispering. It only sends a chill of worry through Yuuta’s demeanor. He’d already been stressing over his well being- not to mention Maki’s, and Itadori’s- it was starting to be a weight on his shoulders keeping an eye on everyone.
It wasn’t that he was burdened by his friends or the guilt they bore, but after a certain amount of time, he just didn’t know how to help anymore.
Yuuji was completely unable to separate himself from Sukuna, taking on the destruction of Shibuya and blaming himself for the entire catastrophe. All the death, the chaos, and where they found themselves now, the boy could barely keep it together. Yuuta had only known him for a short amount of time, and even he found his behavior to be unsettling.
Maki had slain her entire bloodline. All but her sister, who had died trying to protect her, trying to make her stronger, so that when she broke free from their twisted clutches, she was able to take down every single one of them. Yuuta had barely approached the subject. No one did, really. Maki had briefly mentioned it when they all grouped together, and since then, it’d been radio silence.
And Megumi… well, Megumi was still beating himself up over (y/n). It didn’t matter what anyone said. It didn’t matter that Yuuji held onto some sliver of hope that she’d made it out of Shibuya before shit really hit the fan. It was as though Megumi had tuned everything out. They practically watched him dim before them, a burnt out bulb that wouldn’t light again no matter how much they prodded and tried.
For now, Yuuta let him be. The gang packed up their supplies from the spot they’d crashed the night before, and without much talk at all began moving again. Here and there they talked about direction, and brainstormed how to get around stealthily, but other than that, it was mostly a quiet journey.
Megumi remained completely silent. One hand on the strap of his sleeping bag over his shoulder, the other shoved in his pocket. Distantly he recognized that his stomach was aching and his mouth was dry, and he was sure he was also in desperate need of a shower, too. But even as the thoughts crossed his mind, they seemed to float away and fade into nothing. Just like everything else that tried to fill the time in his head, it was always replaced by the overwhelming gnaw of grief.
Maybe he didn’t deserve to eat. It wasn’t like there was much food to go around anyways. Wasn’t everyone else much more deserving of a healthier portion? What had he done in comparison to everyone else in this makeshift group of people who were once peers but now that Jujutsu Society had fallen apart… did they even have anything else in common?
Just as the mental downward spiral began, it was washed away once more by the reminder that it didn’t matter anyways. Guilt and loss settled at the forefront of his thoughts again, and he kept his head down as he continued walking.
The ironic part about all of this was that if she had been here, she’d laugh at him and smack him upside the head. Everything matters, dummy, he could almost hear her scolding him, with no bite to her bark, just as always. She always had something dumb to say like that.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“Stop being so gloomy, ‘gumi!” She’d hollered, followed by a string of laughter as she skipped up to him, turning her back to Nobara and Yuuji, who happily kept walking along to the next shop on their trip.
“Definitely don’t ever call me that again” He muttered back, crinkling his nose and narrowing his eyes in distaste for the nickname. She laughed again, stopping just before him on the sidewalk, just as their friends entered a boutique, leaving them behind.
“Oh yeah?” She places her hands on her hips and raises an eyebrow at him, and he wonders if she knows that their friends just abandoned them out here. “Or what?” She asks defiantly.
He’d taken notice that when she was trying to instigate a bickering match, the corner of her lips tilted up in a proud little smirk. She tended to get ahead of herself, always certain that she’d win whatever it was they were doing. From petty arguments on the sidewalk to sparring to missions where she always wanted to compete and one up him. Although after a while he had to admit it could be a little fun to show off on the easier-to-exorcize curses.
“Dork,” He rolls his eyes without a hint of genuine attitude. When she gapes at him in mock offense he raises his hand to flick her forehead. “C’mon, our friends dipped” He starts to head towards the shop Nobara and Yuuji had disappeared into, but she stays put outside.
“Yeah… I sort of let them…” She admits, a small, guilty smile stretching across her lips. Megumi raises his eyebrows at her, smiling back in amusement. Usually whatever those two were up to, (y/n) was following behind like an eager duckling. “What?” She asks innocently. “I just don’t want to spend all day looking at things I won’t buy and then carrying all of Nobara’s shit!” She defends herself.
Megumi laughs, a real laugh, his eyes crinkling at their corners and his shoulders shaking and everything. (y/n’s) almost taken aback by the action, surprised that he looked so… joyful.
“Alright, you’ve got a point. We have an opportunity here, and we should take it while we can” He begins to plot with her, and her smile stretches into a grin as she nods back at him.
“Bookstore and coffee?” She suggests quietly, as if it was more outlandish of an idea than it really was.
Megumi nods affirmatively, tucking his hands in his pockets before turning in the opposite direction, (y/n) following him right away so they could make it there before their friends noticed their departure.
She still pushed his buttons as they made their way to their destination down the street, but he couldn’t help but feel a blossom of warmth in his chest that for once he was the one getting her to tag alongside him. He would never admit it, opting to poke back at her the rest of the day like nothing had changed, but it had felt… good.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The day that annoying chirping flyhead had announced a culling game, Megumi felt a glimmer of hope spark inside of him that he barely recognized. It had only been nine or so days since the incident, but it seemed like ages since he’d felt optimistic about something- anything.
But as the flyhead spouted off the rules to the games, he’d hoped that a lineup would be included. Surely with so many sorcerers pitted against each other, there must be some condition of having all of the participants and their points on display, right?
The others recognized a change in him then, an eagerness, an impatience as he barely took in what the flyhead was announcing, only waiting to hear what he wanted.
Announce the players’ names, he silently pleaded with the damn thing. Say her name, tell me she’s a participant, tell me she’s alive.
But the rules concluded, the flyhead seemingly disappeared, and Megumi felt like a fucking idiot.
Yuuji and Yuuta shared a look, and the pink haired boy turned to give his friend an apologetic expression. He opened his mouth to say something, but Megumi tightened his hold on the strap of his sleeping bag and kept walking before he could say anything.
He didn’t want to hear any bullshit about maybes or what ifs. He just wanted to get to the next safe place by nightfall so he could lay awake on his sleeping bag for eight hours, and then repeat this whole cycle again tomorrow.
His ever so present grief and his growing hunger was starting to blend into a concoction that made him more stand-offish than usual. The others had almost cracked, barely acknowledging him at this point, simply not knowing how. Yuuji still tried, of course. Forcing a water bottle in his face, or a piece of food that hadn’t gone totally bad. He’d maybe had a few bites here or there in the last few days, not nearly enough to keep up his energy, but somehow he pushed through anyways.
Don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t finding some hidden source of energy, he wasn’t persevering, and he certainly wasn’t living because he had to. If he was being honest, he’d been wondering why his body hadn’t given out on him yet. Nothing felt good anymore. If it wasn’t numb, it ached, and neither one of those options was more of a relief than the other.
He wasn’t pushing through the unmovable force of his grief. (y/n)... Nobara… Gojo… Nanami… He wasn’t staying strong in their memory, and if anything, he wished his body would just give up already so he wasn’t such a burden to those around him. Megumi spent most of his time in his own head, but he wasn’t completely oblivious. He saw the way the others talked about him with only their eyes. Short, worried glances exchanged on his behalf, each of them trying to silently convince the others to do something first, no one wanting to be the one to address it.
Tonight when he rolls out his holey sleeping bag and lays back on it, he stares at the starless sky and pleads with it. He begs the rolling clouds and inky black night to let him close his eyes, just this once, so that he won’t have to open them again.
He can’t possibly spend another long night wide awake, thinking about his hunger, thinking about her, no matter how hard he tries to shove it all deep, deep down and ignore it.
As exhausted as he is physically, sleep never takes over his body.
A tear rolls out of the corner of his eye, trekking slowly down his cheekbone. It lingers at his jaw, fat and wobbly as he clenches his teeth together as hard as he can stand it, desperate to make this tear the last.
It falls with a near silent splat against the nylon material he lays on.
The following little splats come in quick succession, seemingly a little louder as they fall one after the other. Megumi chokes down the sobs to be sure no one else could catch wind of his breakdown.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
She momentarily glances up at him when he enters the room, only to scowl and turn away as soon as she recognizes it’s him. Megumi fights the urge to roll his eyes, sliding the infirmary door shut and tucking his hands into his pockets as he approaches her.
“I’m not talking to you,”
Despite her sharp glare, he laughs at the ironic statement.
“I mean it. I’m still mad at you,” She spits out, turning back to where she was stitching up the gash in her upper arm.
It was a nasty thing to look at, and probably worse to patch up on her own, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d gotten back from an assignment too late to request Shoko’s help- and reverse cursed technique.
“Seriously,” There’s more of a bite to her tone when she plunges the needle through the narrow end of the wound. “Just go”
She’s hissing and clenching her jaw before pulling the needle through and doing it again, trying to keep her stitches even. It wasn’t the easiest task with her non-dominant hand, but she didn’t want to show an ounce of struggle.
“You sure talk a lot for not talking to me” Megumi hums, still coming closer, despite her warnings.
He earns himself another glare, but he ignores it, stepping up to where she’s sat on the edge of one of the paper-covered cots. She flinches as though to lean away from him, and he raises a brow at her.
“You want sloppy stitches?” He asks pointedly, voice hushed and lacking any emotion. “Fine by me, have it heal weird if that’s what you want”
He starts to step away, and (y/n) huffs. Her eyes shut and her shoulders slump, and he takes her nonverbal defeat as his cue to pluck the needle from her hand and get to work. She wouldn’t say so out loud, but she knew his hand was steadier than hers anyways.
He works quickly and diligently. His free hand placed gently around her arm to make sure it stays still as he stitches up the gnarly cut. She tries not to react to how cold it is to the touch, but her muscles flinch when he first makes contact.
“Sorry” He mumbles without much thought, going for the fourth stitch.
“For what, exactly?” (y/n) mutters back with a furrow in her brow. “For your freakishly cold hands? Or for letting me take this hit back there?”
Megumi doesn’t respond right away, opting to keep his focus on his needlework. This only annoys her further, and he can practically feel it radiating off of her. He knew it was a matter of seconds before she blew up at him, she was probably just thinking through what she wanted to say when she screamed his head off. He could tell her to shut up and stop acting so childish, but he doesn’t.
And he’s not totally sure why. If this was Yuuji or Nobara in her place, he’d be telling them exactly where they’d gone wrong on that assignment, and to top it off walk them through how they needed to shape up before they took another one.
But it’s not Yuuji or Nobara. It’s (y/n). And his mouth stays shut.
Truth was she wasn’t necessarily wrong. He had technically let her take this hit from a Grade Two curse with a horrific set of claws. But had he not sent her that way, then she would’ve wanted to tag team the Grade One with him. And this particular Grade One had a gore streak in the deaths it had caused around Tokyo. And on that fact alone, he took it on himself, and ordered (y/n) to take on the Grade Two.
“I mean seriously what the fuck was that? You think you get to boss me around just ‘cause you’ve been doing this a little longer?”
And here she goes. He braces himself mentally for whatever she was about to throw at him.
“Or is it something else? Hm? You needed the ego boost? Needed to feel like some kind of big strong man, Megumi?” Her eyes narrow at him but he doesn’t cast her a single glance. His focus remains on the steady movements of stitching her up. “Did it feel good to play hero? Did you feel good exorcizing that Grade One and laughing when I let a measly little Grade Two take me down-?”
“I wasn’t laughing”
His voice is quieter than hers, and significantly calmer, but it still manages to shut her up. For a moment, her expression is blank while she still stares at him, and he still keeps his eyes on his task.
A lump forms in her throat, suddenly making it very hard to insult him. It remains silent between them as Megumi finishes up the last stitch, finishing it off perfectly and dropping the bloody needle on the tray beside the cot. The metallic thunk echos shortly, and then finally, he turns his attention towards her.
To his surprise, her eyes looked wet. She couldn’t possibly be holding back tears. Surely the stitches hurt, she wasn’t invincible, but she was strong, and never showed weakness. Even when that curse had grabbed her by the arm and he feared it was going to rip it clean off her body, she hadn’t cried. Screamed and swore, sure, but not a tear was shed the whole way back to campus.
“Think what you will,” He tells her, eyes flickering between hers curiously, wondering what it was that would make her tear up now. “But I’m not so callous that I would take amusement in your pain,”
She tries to swallow the lump in her throat, but it only burns more, and she hopes that he can’t see the emotion on her face, she hopes that she’s expressionless, cold, even.
“In fact, when I sent you after that curse, it was for the opposite reason. I was trying to do you a favor”
“A favor?” She repeats, intending to snap the words back at him, but her voice is strained by her burning throat, and instead she almost sounds… lost. Megumi can’t quite put his finger on it.
He nods his head once in a short motion.
“Sorry you got hurt,” He says, and he means it, but his tone still lacks any sort of emotion. He plans to keep it that way. “Just didn’t want to see you get ripped to shreds by a Grade One”
He doesn’t say anything else, and he doesn’t give her the chance to reply, or even fully react to that statement. Instead he turns around and walks right back out of the infirmary, not so much of a nod in parting as he shuts the door behind him and leaves her completely alone.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
When Megumi had found Yuuji after the incident in Shibuya, he’d ran to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, asking if he was alright and hugging him shortly out of the pure relief that someone was there, someone lived. Even though Yuuji was in rough shape physically and mentally after everything, he was a person that Megumi could see and touch, and relief flooded through him like pure ecstasy.
“Nobara?” He’d asked, unable to finish the rest of the question. He didn’t have to for Yuuji to understand.
Yuuji didn’t have to answer aloud for Megumi to understand. His glossy eyes turned away, desperate for something else to catch his attention before he thought too hard about the fate their friend befell.
Megumi frowned, his throat going dry as he swallowed harshly.
He didn’t want to ask anymore questions. He wanted to relish the lone fact that Yuuji, his best friend, was alive and standing in front of him. He not only lived through the catastrophe but they’d reunited. He wished he could hold onto that joy for just a moment longer. But he couldn’t help himself from asking another burning question in his mind.
“A-and (y/n)?” He stammered out uncharacteristically. His panic was evident in his wide eyes and tightening grip on Yuuji’s shoulders. The pink haired boy looked back at him in alarm. “She- she left Nanami’s team to come find you, did she?” He explained the situation poorly, not wanting to waste time talking if Yuuji had an answer for him.
He doesn’t respond right away.
“Did she find you?” He asks again, his voice quieter as his features begin to fall.
His heart hammered in his chest in a way he’d never felt before. A deep rooted fear he can’t recall ever having before, even as a toddler and fearing a monster under the bed didn’t hold up against the icy hot pins forcing their way through his bloodstream now. His face felt hot as it went pale. The back of his neck felt sweaty as a cool breeze hit it. He was sure he was about to have a seizure, the panic was all too much. The longer Yuuji didn’t give him an outright response, the worse the taste of bile in Megumi’s throat became.
“I did see her,” Yuuji finally mumbles out, dropping his eyes to his hands, which he held palms up and trembling before him. “After Choso- the people that…” Yuuji coughs, the need to vomit suddenly pushing through his mind and throat. “She was trying to exorcize them all,”
He was struggling to explain what he recalled seeing that night. It was all too brutal, and his mind was trying to push the trauma into a dark corner where he couldn’t think about it if he tried. But this was important. Megumi needed to know.
“She… she was crying,” Yuuji looked up at Megumi again, who furrowed his brows and shook his head. “She knew they were still people deep down, like… Junpei”
Megumi’s head shaking grew more rapid as he processed this all too slowly for his liking.
“And then?” He asked. “And then what? Where’d she go? You got split up?” Question after question tumbled out of his mouth so quick his words began to slur together.
Yuuji wanted to cry just seeing him so worried sick, much less actually remember what happened.
“I… I didn’t see,” The pink haired boy admitted quietly, shame bringing his eyes downcast again. “I’m sorry, Megumi. W- we got separated. But there… there were so many of them…”
Megumi had stepped away, his hands falling from Yuuji’s shoulders, hanging heavy at his sides as he took a larger step back.
“I tried to find her,” Yuuji’s voice cracked as he hoped to explain himself. “Really I- I didn’t want to abandon her, I didn’t want to leave her there, not after everything she did to get to me- she- fuck- she probably saved my life showing up when she did!”
He could register that Yuuji was still speaking, but Megumi could hardly make all of it out. His vision was clouding over, and his entire body felt weak, as though he could collapse at any point. He hadn’t even realized he was heaving until Yuuji, Maki, and Yuuta were crowded around him and helping him slowly down to the ground to calm him down.
He’d never had a panic attack before.
Finding out that (y/l/n) (y/n) had likely died along with countless others in Shibuya struck the first of several panic induced attacks. Most of which he managed to keep hidden from the others, but some hit so hard and so suddenly that it was near impossible to work through it in private.
He’d been replaying Yuuji’s account of that night over and over in his head for days now, trying to find some sort of hope that she could’ve gotten out of that train station before all hell broke loose. But with a hazy recollection and no other witnesses, it was hard to pretend that she made it out alive.
At first he’d spent time looking for signs of her as they traveled. Any remains of camps he was sifting through, hoping to find that familiar necklace she always wore, or the shortsword she’d carried that night, something- anything that could point to a sign of her still being out there somewhere.
But now he barely lifted his head as he followed the group blindly, kicking at loose rubble and keeping a tight hold on his unraveling sleeping bag that was almost at the end of it’s lifespan. There would be no use in holding onto a tattered rag of nylon.
There wasn’t a chance he’d ever see her again. His denial was beginning to fade, reality giving him a cold slap to the face to wake him up. It was harsh. It left him rough around the edges, literally and figuratively. His facial features were sharper, and devoid of color. His muscles were sore, only growing more so the longer he put off eating a proper meal. If he kept this up he knew there would only be a few more sleepless nights until he didn’t stand back up in the morning.
And still, when he was offered a piece of food, he took a mere few bites before excusing himself to go lay on his ruined sleeping bag and stare at the sky.
He cursed it when it was empty and dull. He cursed it when it was full of twinkling stars and a bright moon. It was never quite right.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“Y’know any constellations?”
Megumi startled upon hearing her tired voice creep up behind him. When he turned to see her shuffling out of the doors in her bare feet and ducky-print pajama shorts and matching tee, he could almost laugh. She was yawning, her eyes shut as she rubbed at them with the ball of her fist. She looked like a child.
“It’s late” He muttered when she waddled up next to him sleepily.
“No shit,” She grumbles back with a roll of her eyes. “So? Y’know any constellations or not?”
Megumi wasn’t sure what exactly she was doing out here. Had she heard him sneak out of his room to step out for fresh air? He’d left fifteen or so minutes ago. If he’d woken her up, surely she would’ve followed him out here sooner than now.
Not to mention, she’d barely spoken to him since their last assignment together, and their sort-of argument in the infirmary. The few times she had addressed him had only been out of courtesy to their present friends. But even then, her eyes never quite met his, and her words were short.
“Actually, yeah,” Megumi hums thoughtfully. “Tsumiki loved ‘em. She used to show me when I was little”
(y/n) nods, wrapping her arms around herself after realizing she wouldn’t relieve the ache in her eyes if she kept irritating them. She lets out a soft sigh as she stands beside him, tilting her head back to glance across the sky. She wasn’t sure of the last time she’d appreciated the stars. It must have been when she was still a child.
Megumi clears his throat uncomfortably, before raising his hand to trace a pattern in the sky.
“Obviously that’s the Orion’s belt,” He says, before mapping out the rest of the hunter’s shape. “The rest of Orion,” He mumbles, and he’s surprised when he glances down to see (y/n) carefully following his hand. He wonders if she can see it the way he does, like the picture in the Astronomy book Tsumiki used to haul around. Curious to see how interested she really was, he continued on to another constellation. “That’s Ursa Major,” He says, tracing the shape out slowly to give her time to adjust to the image. “And, uh, Ursa Minor is… there” He does the same for both bears.
(y/n) hums curiously, a small smile tugging at her lips in amusement. She never would have guessed that Astronomy of all things was one of Megumi’s interests.
“Do you know what your star sign is?” He asks, dropping his hand and glancing down at her. She raises a brow at him in surprise, slowly delivering her answer, half expecting him to come up short and sheepishly admit he didn’t know where that one was.
But he surprises her again, eyes darting around the sky for a matter of seconds before finding it in seconds and dragging his fingers along the main stars of her constellation with a great amount of ease.
“Alright, that’s pretty cool,” She finally confesses, shyly glancing up at him. “You’re a pretty good brother for learning all of this” She tells him.
His attention is brought back down to her as soon as she says it, finding a soft smile on her face and a look in her eyes that he can’t quite decipher. He thinks it’s akin to worry, perhaps empathy. His eyes flicker between hers a few times as he tries to pinpoint exactly what it is. She doesn’t shy away from his long silence accompanied by the eye contact that made her feel like she was an artifact under glass.
It’s quiet for a while, until eventually Megumi looks back up at the sky again. She wonders what brought him out here to begin with, but she doesn’t ask. Instead, she clasps her hands together behind her back and admires the stars with him.
“What else can you show me?”
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
If it had been up to him, Megumi would’ve rather stayed behind at Jujutsu Tech to guard Tengen. Maybe if he’d sat alone in the warping hallways of the school he could pass out from the mindfuckery of it all. Then maybe, once Kenjaku arrived…
It doesn’t matter now. Yuki and Choso had already decided they’d be the ones to stand guard. He and Yuuji were already on their way to find Hakari, and there was no point in changing plans now. Besides, he didn’t want to burden Yuuji any further than he was sure he already had.
“So, you’ve met this guy?”
Yuuji’s the first to speak, and Megumi doesn’t exactly have an answer. He shrugs his shoulders and tilts his head side to side with a blank expression.
“Sort of. I guess”
Yuuji waits for further explanation, but after a few beats of silence, he realizes that Megumi isn’t going to explain what that means.
“Okay… well, do you think we can convince him to help us?”
“Don’t know” Megumi replies.
Yuuji frowns, and turns his gaze forward, fixing it straight ahead before slowly exhaling through his nose to ease his nerves.
Megumi glances at him out of his peripheral vision, and seeing his clear disappointment in his features, huffs out a breath and tries to explain himself.
“I met him for, like, a minute. One time. Before I was even enrolled at Jujutsu Tech,” He said.
Yuuji turned towards his friend with a grin, eager to hear him opening up, or at least, trying to. For once he keeps his mouth shut in the hopes that Megumi continues to talk.
“Gojo introduced me,” He went on. “And I really don’t know if he’ll help us. He’s a bit… eccentric” He mutters the last part with distaste.
“Like Gojo?” Yuuji chuckles, and Megumi tilts his head from shoulder to shoulder once more.
“If Gojo had a gambling addiction so twisted it got him kicked out of school, then… maybe”
Yuuji’s eyes widened, and he snapped his mouth shut before he could ask any other questions. Megumi’s patience may have been thin- and perhaps nonexistent at this point- but he had a feeling that he should let his friend save up some energy for his social battery. If Hakari is anything like Gojo, then he’d certainly need it.
When they stop to rest it’s not for long. Yuuji gets Megumi to eat a bit more than usual, though not by much, he takes it as a good sign. They rest just long enough to soothe the ache in their feet, but as soon as they’re moving again, the pain returns. Neither one of them complained.
THe sun was just starting to set when they finally reached their destination. Megumi stopped them both just on the perimeter of the territory. An unsettling feeling spiking in his chest had his instincts telling him not to step any closer without a plan.
Silently, he glances over to Yuuji, who’s already surveying the area. He must have felt it, too.
“Cursed energy?” Yuuji mumbles, his brows furrowed as he meets Megumi’s hard stare.
The dark haired boy nods his head once in confirmation.
“Yeah,” He hums back. “And a lot of it”
It was impossible to ignore. Cursed energy in great quantities had a natural buzz, like static electricity in the air. This wasn’t that at all. If Megumi closed his eyes and focused on it, he was sure he could feel the ground below him vibrating with thick waves of energy.
One thing was for sure, they were in the right place. But whatever it was that was happening here put him on edge.
“Keep your guard up,” He muttered, stepping past the brush they’d been hiding behind and heading towards the building. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure Yuuji was following. “And your expectations low” He adds upon seeing the grin on his friend’s face.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“Arms up, Megumi!”
Despite her offensive stance and the glow of cursed energy around her fists, (y/n’s) voice was full of pure delight. Sometimes when Megumi would spar with her, he would be reminded of Maki. He never understood why she never sought her out instead, surely the older sorcerer was a better match for her twisted delight with training. Nonetheless, here he was on a Saturday, rolling his eyes as he raised his hands to keep his face behind his arms so that when she hit him she didn’t break anything.
(y/n) spoke as if she could read his thoughts.
“Skipping out on training doesn’t get you to Grade One, y’know,” She told him as they started circling. “And if Yuuji can’t teach me Black Flash, I’ll have to learn it myself!”
“Did you even ask Nanami?” Megumi grumbles, already knowing her answer.
She wasn’t one to ask for help. Only ever requesting a training partner- or victim, as Nobara had once affectionately put it.
She didn’t give him an answer anyways, throwing a fist towards his exposed stomach, trying to apply her cursed energy at the last possible moment. She not only didn’t succeed in using Black Flash, but she missed hitting him too, as he dodged with a graceful sidestep.
“If you’re so scared, why’d you say yes?” (y/n) asked, gearing up to find a weaker spot on him to aim for.
He doesn’t want to answer that, but she clearly isn’t going to make her attack until he gives her something, so he huffs.
“No one else would wake up at this hour on a weekend” He says lamely. It feels like a lie when he says it, even though Megumi knows it’s the truth.
It was seven in the morning, after all. Yuuji and Nobara likely wouldn’t be awake for a few more hours. If (y/n) needed a partner to train, her options were severely limited.
“Guess you’re right” She shrugs.
In the same motion she throws another punch at him, this time her cursed energy crackling in her hand, giving her some hope. But even though she landed a hit on his shoulder, it was still unsuccessful.
She groans loudly, to which Megumi scowls, seeing as he was the one that just got punched. He rolls his shoulder to work out the ache before taking his defensive stance again, waiting for her to try again.
“You’re not in the right mindset” He points out.
She raises a brow at him.
“You wanna chase me around a bit?” She suggests, only half jokingly. Megumi snorts, but stops himself before he could actually laugh at the idea.
“No,” He shakes his head. “You should try something else”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” He huffs, annoyed for trying to walk her through a technique he’d never even used. Still, he finds himself brainstorming another approach. “Try psyching out,” He suggests, nodding his head as he thinks it through. “It’d be more effective that way anyways. If you’re using hand-to-hand with an opponent but don’t lead with it, you’ve got the element of surprise on your side, too,”
(y/n) nods along with him, finding the advice to be surprisingly solid.
“So if you let them underestimate you, then catch them off guard, you’d probably be good as gold” He finished.
She beams at him as she raises her fists again, ready to take his advice out on him right away.
“Just remember you suggested it when I take you to the infirmary later” She teases.
Megumi smirks, widening his stance and raising his arms to protect his face again.
“You’ll still have to figure out the technique” He reminds, but the coy look on his face suggests that he had no doubt in his mind that she could master it in no time.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The inside of the building was so loud and rambunctious, it was downright overstimulating. Megumi fought the urge to cover his ears as soon as they entered the premises. Crowds of people swarmed multiple levels- he counted about six before getting distracted by all the pushing and shoving- and it was no secret what it was they were wildly rooting for.
“A fighting ring, huh?” Yuuji grinned, not out of delight for the sport, but surprise for the timing of a setting like this. Did these people even know about the games?
“Great,” Megumi clicked his tongue bitterly as he surveyed the crowds with a furrow in his brow. “Should’ve expected he’d pull some shit like this” He muttered too low for Yuuji to make out what he was grumbling about.
The squared ring where the current match was taking place wasn’t too far from where Yuuji and Megumi found themselves, but with all of the people in the way it made it difficult for them to see who was winning. Too many arms in the air with money in their fists blocked the fight. But it seemed whoever was up there was getting thrown around like a ragdoll. The sound of a body rapidly being smacked against the rough mat or against the chains surrounding the ring were heard in quick succession.
However despite the sound of someone being brutalized, the match continued. Neither of them have caught a glimpse of either combatant, but they knew it must’ve been an impressive lineup as it had been a few minutes of this now.
“Is this even legal?” Yuuji asked. Megumi scoffed, although he wasn’t trying to deliver a rude response.
“Not even a little bit” He mutters back with a shake of his head.
Wordlessly, they decide they’re going to push through the horde of chanting people to get a better look at what was going on. They pause in their shoving when a booming voice erupts from an intercom, the screech of an excited announcer sounding throughout the building and echoing across the concrete infrastructure.
“Place your final bets now!” He drawled every word out for dramatic effect. “Will our resident Panda live to see another day?”
Yuuji and Megumi locked eyes instantly, and without having to say a thing, began pushing and shoving forward again. The sea of people cast them dirty looks and occasionally pushed back to scold them for their rude behavior, but they paid it no mind.
There could only be one Panda in that ring, right?
Sure enough when they got closer to the square, they could see the wide, furry expanse of a panda- The Panda’s- back. His shoulders were trembling, not from pain or fear, but from the rambunctious laughter he let out. He raised his paws, tilting his head back as his howl boomed.
Yuuji’s face brightened excitedly upon seeing their old friend. Megumi couldn’t help but feel some relief as well. Neither of them had considered the possibility of scattered sorcerers they knew being here.
They were close enough now that when Panda spoke, they could make out what he was saying. The crowd around them was too busy screaming and chanting threatening cheers to care about what the fighters in the ring were saying to one another, but Yuuji and Megumi did their best to listen in.
“Just try not to knock me out this time!” Panda said through his laughter.
Was he throwing the fight? Megumi didn’t quite understand the context to this statement.
“Last time they didn’t bother to move me off the ring, I slept here all night!” Panda continued, his laughing ceasing as he took on an irritated tone. “Ruined my back!”
His opponent only laughed. Something feminine and twisted, but undoubtedly genuine.
Megumi’s heart plummeted to his stomach. He recognized that sound.
When Panda’s body was knocked back into the chains of the ring from a swift but heavy kick to the chest, his opponent was finally made visible.
A girl. Not that girls couldn’t fight, but this particular girl had a cutthroat attitude when it came to fistfighting a bear. It seemed every swing of her arms as she landed hit after hit on him grew faster in speed. Half of her face was covered with a black mask, but the bloodied grin on her face was that of someone who believed they couldn’t possibly lose, no matter what beast of an opponent they might face.
Recognition flashed in Megumi’s face, making him go pale as he watched her strike two blows to Panda’s jaw so quickly it had to have given him whiplash, sending his furry head back and forth with such great force.
If Panda was throwing the fight, it didn’t really look like it. He blocked a hit here and there with his massive paws, but she always seemed to move quicker to outsmart him. Ducking and weaving around him with graceful feet and agile movements to keep herself from getting caught by him again. Clearly she’d learned a lesson when he’d been throwing her around earlier.
When Panda did try to land a hit on her again, she grabbed his large wrist in one hand, still grinning as she used the momentum of his swing to swing herself forward and kick her feet into his chest.
The first from the right foot, directly against his ribcage, knocking all wind out of him.
The crowd began to go wild, anticipating something Megumi hadn’t caught onto yet.
The second from the left foot, kicking lower against his stomach, making him curl over and heave.
But before he could catch his breath or clutch his stomach, she struck with her right foot again.
The third and final blow came with a shock of blue energy, an abundant amount of cursed energy striking him in the chest so hard it sent him a few feet backwards, crashing into the chains and crumpling to the mat in a heap of black and white.
It was undoubtedly Black Flash.
She didn’t taunt him as the referee began his countdown before calling a knock out and declaring her a winner. She didn’t strut around or try to rile up her fans in the crowd. Not that she needed to, the people around Megumi and Yuuji were clawing at their own faces in astonishment from watching her take her opponent down with ease and showmanship.
And when the match was officially over and the announcer was hyping the crowd up for the next fight over the intercom, she slid out of the ring and left the area without so much as a wave. It took a few minutes for Panda to get up, but eventually he was sauntering his way out of the ring too, waving to the few people who were his diehard fans and didn’t take his defeat tonight as anything more than some bad luck.
“Come on” Megumi beckoned Yuuji to follow him, his feet already moving as fast as they could take him through the mob, struggling to follow the exact direction that Panda and his opponent before him had gone.
Yuuji kept up fairly well, but Megumi wouldn’t have noticed. He was driven forward by absolute panic, his heart racing in his chest with a feeling he’d thought he’d relinquished days ago when he’d tried to stop living in denial.
But he couldn’t get the image of that girl out of his mind. She was so… he couldn’t get his hopes up. Her laugh was so familiar he couldn’t have possibly mistaken it for someone else's… he shouldn’t get his hopes up.
“Yo! Panda!”
Eventually the crowd thinned out enough that Yuuji tried using the power of his loud holler to get their friend’s attention. Panda perked up immediately, spinning around and searching the crowd for the familiar voice. It didn’t take long for his eyes to land on the waving boy with the unmistakable head of pink hair. He grinned, and his ears twitched a bit as he turned completely and began to make his way towards the pair.
“Itadori!” He beams wider as he reaches them, as if they could have turned out to be figments of his imagination. “Fushiguro!”
He hugs them both at once before either could protest.
“I can’t believe you’re here! Did you come to see me fight?” He laughs at his own joke, shaking his head before they could even say anything. “Really though, what are you doing here? It’s not as fun as it looks, y’know”
“We’re looking to talk to Hakari-”
“Who was that with you?” Megumi speaks up before Yuuji could begin his explanation.
Yuuji turns to him with a confused look, which Panda shares for a moment, before he chuckles.
“She went down that way,” He said, pointing behind him in the direction he’d been heading. “(y/n/n) always ditches fights fast. Hates the crowd, I guess. Not me, I love the-”
“Wait, (y/n/n)?” Yuuji repeats the semi-familiar nickname, his jaw going slack and his eyes widening.
He turns to share a look with Megumi, but it seemed the raven haired boy was already processing just whose nickname that could’ve been. His face was flushed so pale he looked sick.
“As in (y/n)-(y/n/n)?” Yuuji continues.
“Yeah,” Panda nods affirmatively, not understanding just how devastating his casual response was for the younger sorcerers in front of him. “She’s-”
“She’s alive?” Megumi finally speaks.
His voice is hardly above a whisper, but the words are like a dropping bomb. Clear, and unmistakable.
Panda blinks in shock, his features contorting in realization as he looks between his two friends. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t even know where to start.
So he nods his head, and turns to point down the corridor he’d been heading once more.
He gives them specific directions to where she’d been likely to go. Megumi listens but doesn’t quite hear a thing he’s saying. His heart is pounding in his ears, his body is going hot, and even once his feet are moving on their own accord- apparently having understood the directions just fine without his ears- he frets that he might break down into a panic attack if he’s not quick enough.
The warning signs are there, the labored breaths, the hot and cold flashes in quick succession, his blurring vision- but he ignores all of it, racing through what was left of the crowd to slip into the near empty corridor. Yuuji is hot on his tail as they dart through, eyes moving in all directions at every doorway and passerby, just to be sure that they wouldn’t miss her.
“(y/n)?”
Her name leaves his mouth in a strangled choke of syllables, as though it were his first time speaking in months.
She hadn’t been facing his direction, her hand still on the handle of the door she was about to open. Her movements had been rushed, like she were hoping to sneak into the room and lock the door behind her as quickly as possible.
But now, as her hand stilled and a chill shot up her spine at the familiar voice, her movements were far too slow as she turned towards the owner of said voice.
Megumi and Yuuji are standing a few feet down the hall, their heavy footsteps having skid to a stop when they finally did see her. She’s closer to them now than she had been in the ring, and although she still wore the mask, she was far more recognizable now.
Her hand trembles as she raises a hand to her head, pulling at the black material of her mask until it gives way, sliding off her head and pooling in the palm of her hand, revealing her face completely now.
Her eyes were wide as they moved between Yuuji and Megumi slowly, disbelief written in her features from the way her brows drew together, to the part in her lips but no words coming out, to the way her eyes began to water as they snapped back into reality and began to move closer to her.
“Megumi?” She drops his name in a mumble, barely audible even to herself, but seeing him here, right now, has her in such a state of shock that she could have believed Panda threw her around too rough and now she was experiencing delusions.
But then she’s moving too, her feet shuffling at first before picking up pace and running towards them once she’s close enough that she didn’t even need to.
“(y/n)!” Yuuji cheers when they’re huddled close together again.
“Yuuji!” She throws her arms around his neck and hugs him tight, rocking back and forth in bliss upon seeing her beloved friend safe and before her now.
When they part, Megumi still hasn’t figured out what it is he should even say. He doesn’t know where to start, doesn’t know what to do with his hands, and suddenly feels so anxious he worries he might throw up. To his luck, (y/n) acts before he has to, and she’s giving him the same warm welcome.
Her arms are tight around his shoulders, and her fingers curl into the material at the back of his uniform jacket. She gathers the fabric in her fists, making sure that he won’t pull away until she’s squeezed every bit of comfort out of his embrace as possible.
And to her surprise, he returns to affection with more force than she would’ve thought. One arm around her waist, keeping her snug against his chest, the other laying upwards against her spine so that he could bury his hand in her hair and cradle her head close to him. He’s shaking, she can feel it, and she pushes closer until her face is buried against his shoulder, hoping to ease his panic.
“We- I thought-” He gasps between struggling breaths, and she’s never heard him sound so broken. He drops his head so his lips hover over her ear when he finds his voice again. “I thought you were dead”
Her heart spikes with an odd feeling, and she squeezes him a little harder before pulling back.
“Alive as ever” She says with a weak smile and an awkward shrug of her shoulders.
Megumi has to shove his hands into his pockets to hide their obvious trembling. The rush of adrenaline in his system hadn’t quite worn off yet, and at this rate he wasn’t sure that it would.
“Well what happened?” Yuuji asked. “How’d you end up here?”
She lets out a humorless chuckle before wincing.
“It’s… it’s not an interesting story,” She explains, then beckons with her hand to have them follow her back to her door. “Here, I sorta have my own space, if you want to come in I can tell you about it, and then you can tell me what you’re doing here, too”
Yuuji begins a long winded rant right away. He tells her all about meeting Yuuta and dying again, and despite Megumi sending him a dirty look for going into too much depth about the parts that didn’t matter as much, (y/n) was an attentive listener, taking in every detail and asking him questions, too. A lot about Yuuta, seeing as she hadn’t crossed paths with him in months, it was good to know he was still out there and on their side. Yuuji continued on about the culling games, and how they had come here originally looking for Hakari.
“But then we found you and Panda- hey wait, do you know Hakari?” Yuuji asked excitedly. “Maybe you could talk to him for us-!”
Her eyes widen with uncertainty, a nervous smile stretching over her lips as she shakes her head quickly.
“I- I don’t know about that,” She tells him. “He doesn’t really come out much, I think I’ve seen him once since getting here. I wasn’t exactly trying to get on his radar. He doesn’t love those affiliated with Jujutsu Tech, you know”
“What? Why! He must like you, your fight was very entertaining!” Yuuji gushes. Megumi sends him another look that he ignores. “And you mastered Black Flash! He’s got to be interested in- ow!”
Megumi smacked his hand upside the back of Yuuji’s head, making sure this time that he didn’t miss the look he was giving him. His displeasure wasn’t exactly subtle. (y/n) laughed through her nose at the pair that hadn’t seemed to change too much in their time apart.
Besides the fact that Yuuji had a few more scars on his face. And Megumi looked like he had lost a bit of weight. Besides that, their demeanors hadn’t changed one bit. For a second at a time, she could pretend things were normal again.
“Go find Panda and tell him our plan,” Megumi orders gruffly. “See if he has any ideas on how to get Hakari to see us”
“What? But-!”
Megumi widened his eyes, silently telling Yuuji to go. The pink haired boy huffed, but stood from his seat on the floor and shuffled towards the door.
“And keep a low profile!” Megumi called, only for Yuuji to wave him off nonchalantly before shutting the door behind him.
(y/n) chuckled when it was just the two of them, turning to face him again.
“So,” She breathes out a heavier exhale than she’d expected. “How’s he really holding up?”
“How you’d expect,” Megumi replies honestly. “It was really rough for a while. We all were… pretty messed up. Still are, I guess”
(y/n) frowns.
“Yeah,” She mumbles. “Shibuya… was…” She drops her head before she could finish her thought. There wasn’t a word strong enough to explain the devastation of the incident.
Megumi’s fingers begin to twitch, fiddling and locking together as he thought over what he wanted to say next.
“Look, before we…” He starts, but loses momentum quickly. He clears his throat to try again. “When I last saw you, I-”
“It’s okay,” (y/n) cuts him off before he could say anything more. The face he makes is uncertain, and she gives him a nod as she repeats herself. “Really, Megumi, it’s okay. It was just a fight, it didn’t mean anything”
“But I-” He starts, only for her to shake her head again. “But it did mean something” He argues.
“We fought a lot, Megumi,” (y/n) chuckles. “Trust me, if I was holding onto resentment over every time we ever argued, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now”
“No- not like that,” Megumi shakes his head. “It meant something because you left and I- I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, (y/n),” His voice holds a grave tone that has her kind smile faltering and her brows pinching together as she watches him. “Yuuji said he lost track of you when you were dealing with all the transfigured humans and- and then you were just gone”
(y/n) blinks, her mouth opening and closing a few times as she realizes just how long it had been since they’d seen each other. How long he must’ve carried around guilt and grief over her. It makes her heart sink, and she shuffles forward on her knees to sit closer to him.
“I got dragged out of the train station pretty quick,” She tells him. “There were so many of… them… and I knew that I was worrying Yuuji while exorcizing them. Cause- cause it didn’t feel like exorcizing,”
Megumi nods, recalling how Yuuji had told him she’d been crying during the whole ordeal, something quite out of character for her. Even now as her eyes begin to tear up, the sight is alarming.
“It felt like… like killing,” She whispers. “So I started leading them away and got outnumbered and got dragged out further. By the time I… once they were all gone, I was out of it. I must’ve passed out or something, because when I came to, Shibuya was… gone. I tried finding you- I tried finding anyone-” She tries to catch her wording, but she’s not quick enough. “But it was just rubble and dust. It was nothing. After a while of trying to find somewhere to land to… to rest and regain some strength, I found this place and Panda with it and I just… stayed. It sort of started to feel like this is all that was left,”
She lets out a shaky sigh, rubbing her clammy hands over her thighs to relieve some of the stress building up in her body. It doesn’t do much, but she continues the action a few more times.
“You know, I didn’t necessarily think I’d ever see you again, either,” Her eyes are downcast as she speaks. “For a while I wondered, um, if you’d show up here…”
“Sorry it took so long,” Megumi replies quietly. She lets out a short, watery chuckle. “But we’re here now,” He adds, moving closer to her, until she looks up at him, surprised by the sudden close proximity. Her eyes are wide as they flicker quickly over his face, trying to read his expression.
It was a new one for Megumi, one she’s not sure she’s ever seen on him before. Except maybe the night in the infirmary, when he’d stitched up her arm. Her face feels warm, and she can’t decide if it’s because of the memory, or if it’s because of how close he is to her.
“And I’m not going anywhere without you” He tells her. His voice is low, but instinctively, she doesn’t feel a shroud of doubt in his words.
She blinks to try to rid the tears from her eyes, but after reliving the last week and a half, and reuniting with the people she’d been naively hoping were just missing and not gone was starting to get on top of her. She’d spent quite some time shoving down bitter thoughts and choosing to stay in denial. As long as she focused on her matches and made enough of an earning to have a place to crash, she tried to stay as blissfully ignorant as possible.
Still, there had been a few sleepless nights when she’d wander outside and try to find a few constellations in the sky, or when she’d lay wide awake and let the tip of her finger trace over the perfectly straight scar on her shoulder.
“Really?”
The question comes out with a shaky breath. She held no uncertainty in him, Megumi was a man who was always true to his word, but reality was beginning to settle in and the urge to hold on to him and never let go was growing stronger.
Megumi nods, clearly amused that she even had to ask. It felt like the first time in a long time that a smile began to twitch on his lips, the muscle feeling awkward from underuse. His eyes gleam as he reiterates his intentions.
“We’re not splitting up again,” He tells her, a weight hanging on to each word. His eyes move between hers, and when she blinks, a tear sticks to her lashes. “I’m not losing you again” He adds in a smaller voice.
A choked sound that almost sounded like a laugh comes out of her as she nods back at him, shaky and fast. For once, agreeing with him completely.
To (y/n), there had always been something about Megumi that drew her to him. He was easy to pick on, easy to tease and laugh at. She found joy in their banter, even when it was less petty and more serious, there was a magnetic spark between them that she just couldn’t deny. She’d tried to explore that feeling, before Shibuya. But she’d never known how exactly to approach it, always becoming apprehensive of the foreign feeling.
Now, it felt so easy to jump into the unknown territory that she felt silly for never having worked up the courage to do so before. The fear of losing someone she cared so much about was too great, and there was no time to waste.
Her tear dropped onto her cheek, the fat droplet rolling slowly across her skin until it dipped into the edge of her wobbly smile. A few more followed shortly after, unable to be stopped no matter how hard she willed herself not to cry.
Just as she raised the back of her hand to hastily rub the wetness away, Megumi beat her to it, moving closer to her as both hands worked softly to catch each tear. They were cold against the hot wet skin, just as she’d remembered, and she found herself shutting her eyes and leaning into how comforting they felt. The tears didn’t stop, but she didn’t seem to be in any anguish.
“I’m not losing you again either,” She whispers, her fingers skimming over his wrist before she clasps her hand around it, making sure he doesn’t pull away just yet. “I- I can’t” The words come out in a small whimper.
Megumi nods in understanding. His thumbs swiping across her cheekbones, and softly under her eyes, trying to catch every last tear.
“I know,” He says softly, still nodding as his eyes wander her features, making sure there weren’t any lingering tears he’d missed. “I know, and you won’t, ‘m not goin’ anywhere”
When their eyes lock again, she’s overwhelmed by an influx of emotion. An eagerness to have him back by her side, a desire to keep him there next to her and never let him go, to never let anything take him away again.
“Listen, ‘gumi, I-” She tries to put words to the feeling, wanting to explain to him that having him here with her was sending her heart into orbit, wanting to tell him that knowing he was alive and he was okay was the first time she’d felt happiness in what seemed like weeks.
But the words are too difficult. They’re too big and they get caught in her throat. Rather than try to force them out, she acts on it instead.
Megumi anticipates the movement before she leans forward, catching the way her eyes rapidly shift between his and his mouth. He reciprocates the look, curious to see if it meant what he’d thought it did, but just as quickly as his eyes land on her parted lips, she’s shooting forward and pressing them against his.
It’s a rushed kiss at first, full of anxiety and grief that hadn’t fully been relieved yet. It’s messy lips and clashing teeth, but once they both realize that whatever this feeling was, it was reciprocated, they relaxed.
Megumi sighs through his nose as he cups her cheeks and keeps her close, kissing her a little more softly, a little more deliberate in his need to display to her just how much he’d missed her. In turn, (y/n’s) hands rest against his shoulders, squeezing just firm enough that he could feel her there, without being too aggressive.
Kissing her like his life depended on it made him feel like everything could turn out alright now that she was with him again. Now that he was sure she was here, feeling the heat in her cheeks, and her soft breaths against his cheek, Megumi thinks his life had depended on this.
Up until about an hour ago he’d been mentally checked out since Shibuya. Seeing her again brought him back a sense of purpose he hadn’t even really noticed he’d been losing.
Her hands are gentle when they card into his hair, combing softly through the dark locks that seemed a little longer since the last time she’d seen him. He sighed at the sensation, unintentionally breaking their kiss.
The tips of his hair tickle her skin as his forehead drops to rest against hers. (y/n) lets out a soft, breathless giggle before opening her eyes.
He’s smiling at her. So full of delight that his blue eyes seem to gleam, and they’re crinkled at their corners. She can’t help but smile back at him, her heart full and her face warm, even with his cool hands still holding it.
Megumi moves then, fingers catching a loose strand of hair. He twirls it thoughtfully for a moment before tucking it behind her ear carefully, and laying his palm across her cheek again. His long fingers splay out, wanting to touch as much of her as he possibly can, just to keep sure that she really is in front of him.
“No more runnin’ off, alright?” He murmurs, the tip of his nose grazing hers.
Her hands latch behind his neck, her focus on his lips as she thinks about kissing him again. They linger there for a moment before shyly meeting his gaze again.
“Don’t let me go again”
He shakes his head, a silent vow to never do anything to push her away again, and even if he fails to keep her by his side, he swears he’d follow her, wherever she may go.
With his eyes falling shut he leans in again, lips grazing hers as he speaks.
“I won’t,” He murmurs, and then once more before he seals their lips again. “I won’t”
She could never part from him again. She loved him too much to even conceive the idea. What was next to come would be difficult, she may not have known Hakari very well personally, but she knew enough to be anxious about approaching him. He was a bit of a loose cannon. However she was sure that with Megumi- and Yuuji and Panda of course- they would come up with the right plan of action to gain his help.
With needy hands and a needier heart she clings to him now, just to be sure that she could never look back and regret not holding onto him tight enough. He does the same, dropping his hands to circle his arms around her waist and pull her in impossibly close to him.
Whatever it took, he’d keep hold of her for the rest of their lives. Nothing could ever take her from him again as long as she was right there in his arms.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
[ i got you where i want you // you did it, i never // i’m falling for forever ]
synopsis: continuation of my first part from nearly three years ago, loosely revolves around the shibuya arc.
platonic gojo/reader
this is not meant to be a romance, don’t romanticize this
a/n: I wrote this three years ago, left it in a document, and let it mold. I finished the last couple hundred words today, but it isn’t proofread at all so some scenes may be awkward. sorry about that. I highly recommend reading part one before coming here.
ps: one scene is based off of a picture from the movie. enjoy!! :’)
“Testing, testing? Is this shit on—”
The video cuts.
“Ah, it was on, thank you sooo much Yaga.” You spit out sarcastically, glaring at the man from the corner of the frame. Your eyes watch the man as he exits the room, and now with the door closed you stare back into the lense.
Your smile is just as he remembered, bright eyes, cheeky grin, beautiful face. Even after 10 years, you still seems to be graced by God.
“Satoru,” you start, and his ears ring.
How long had it been since he’s heard you say his name? He feels like you’re staring back into his eyes, your eyes crinkling from your smile. His lips press together, but he doesn’t cry.
“Wow, that felt weird to say,” You joke, “But, anyway, let’s start from the beginning. It’s nice to see you again, Satoru. You should be around.. 25? 26.” Your face scrunches up from the mental math, confusing you further.
You click your tongue, continuing,
“Well, older than me now, that’s for sure. It’s quite embarrassing…”
His expression grows hard, your words ringing in his ear once more. ‘Older than me now.’
His hands clench, still staring into the screen. “The quality must be super shitty compared to the future, so bear with me.”
He isn’t following, still stuck up on the fact that you knew you would die.
“Satoru,” you call out his name again with the snap of your finger, and he perks up. “Stay with me. Think later.”
You know him so well.
-
You’re walking down the street, hands in your pocket. This day is especially important. It’s winter, the cold air nipping at your skin. This was your least favorite type of weather. The brown scarf around your neck hardly helping you from this unreasonable temperature.
A small body hits your leg, bouncing off of you and onto the ground. You stare down, curious to see what hit you.
A small child, no older than two with a little coat and boots on stood in front of you. His cheeks were puffed up, red from the could, and his fingers playing with his other fingers.
You bend way down to his level, staring into his green ones. It’s a pair that you’ve seen before.
“You’ve gotta be careful, kid. Where are your parents?” You ask.
He just looks at you curiously. If you had to compare him to any animal, it would definitely be a sea urchin.
With a sigh, you push yourself up with your hands on your knees. He begins to cry, assuming that you’re leaving him. His arms stretch up to you, and you can’t help but copy his actions, your hands to his armpits, lifting him up and onto your shoulders.
“Okay, let’s play a game. Since it’s a pretty cold day, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.”
He looks around, with you as you walk, his small hands balling your hair to keep his grip.
You chuckle, ahead of you spotting a big gruff man.
“Well I’ll be damned,” you mumble, stomping up to him with your hand reached out. Though, due to his heavenly restriction, he stopped you before you could touch him.
“It’s been a while, Zenin.” You laugh, looking at his shocked face which turns to complete confusion.
“It’s Fushiguro now.” He corrects you, and you being.. well you, open your mouth in a mocking tone, eyes rolling as you say wordlessly, “Blah Blah Blah,”
He rolls his eyes, shaking his head before looking up.
“There you are.” He breathes out, relief seeping out of him.
You tilt your head.
“10 shadows, huh?”
The small boy looks down at you from his position, his chin on the top of your head with a curious gaze.
“Something like that,” Toji mumbles, watching as you take the boy from around your neck and hold him in your arms, laughing as you throw him slightly up.
“Wee!” You coo, the boy’s laughter filling the barren sidewalk.
“Imagine I steal you and take you home with me. The three big families all together at a table,” you trail off, the boy’s nose hitting yours as he babbles incoherent words.
“Stop treating my kid like a dog,”
“Maybe don’t lose him next time.”
Toji raises his arms at his son, “Time to go, Megumi.”
You raise an eyebrow, “Eh? Megumi? He’s a girl?”
“What? No. I’m not going to explain it to— you know what, give him over.”
You glance back at Megumi, who stares his wide, beady eyes into yours.
“Say, Megumi? Wanna go back with Papa, or stay with your Auntie?”
“When the hell did you get promoted to Auntie? Just give him back,”
Megumi buries his head into the crook of your neck, and you laugh loudly but soon quiet down.
“How’s the place holding up?” You ask quietly, Toji glancing down at you.
“S’fine.”
“Wow, I rented out a nice, secluded apartment for you and this is how you’re treating me?” You snort, rolling your eyes. He only glares, watching as his son drifts off into slumber in your hold.
You notice his eyes soften, and it’s evident he loves the boy. Though he doesn’t show it like he should.
“When you walk together, hold his hand next time.” You tell the man, who is about to snap at you, thinking you’re just teasing him for his parenting skills. But then he sees your face, and his expression becomes slightly subdued.
“Whatever, I know.”
“I’m sure you do.” You smile, handing back Megumi, but not before unraveling the scarf that hugs your neck tightly.
It reeks of you, that cigarette smell and firewood. You wrap it snug around Megumi’s neck, keeping him warm from the bitter cold.
“I’m feeling generous today.” You mutter, patting the boy’s head.
You wave lazily without turning around.
When you arrive home, Satoru was sitting on your couch, using your vhs player. You’re shrugging off your jacket, a cigarette miraculously appearing in your mouth as you hang it up on the rack while he greets you,
“Hey,” he says lazily, glancing at you from the corner of his eye then back at the screen before whipping his whole body around.
“Where is it?” He asks you accusingly with a squint.
“Huh?” You question, grabbing a light from your junk drawer.
“You know… the scarf.”
You look up, thinking. “Oh, that thing?” You say with a slight muffle, cupping your cigarette to light it, then turning it off and throwing the lighter back in the drawer.
“I gave it to some kid,” you tell him, blowing the smoke out and away from your mouth.
“Some…kid?” he repeats, glaring at you as the television show continues in the background.
“Mhm, real cutie if you ask me.” You add on, opening the fridge to pour a glass of milk.
“What?”
“Oh yeah, adorable even.” You tell him, leaning down into the fridge, a hand on top of the door as you peer inside. Your eyes scan the interior, searching the carton. “But his dad is a whack job— say Satoru, have you seen the mil-”
The fridge door slams shut, his icy glare hard on his face, eyebrows furrowed, six eyes completely visible.
“So you’re just going out to see other men.”
You stare at him before laughing, reaching down to ruffle the 14 year olds hair. “I didn’t take you for the jealous type.” You teased, walking away from the boy to pull out a glass.
“Now seriously, where’s the milk.”
He blinks, then turns away so he wouldn’t meet your gaze.
“Well…”
“Well,” You repeat in a mock, “Guess who’s going to have to go get more?!” You ask him cheerfully.
He attempts to match your energy but ends up responding to the question in a hesitant manner with a timid grin. “You?”
“YOU!” You shout at him, throwing him out the house.
Today would be a blood moon, and the premonitions you had would be extra.. accurate? You don’t know, supposedly they would be according to your clan— but how would they know, right!
Anyway, warm milk, as childish as it might be, is the only thing that’ll really knock you out and away.
It’s a day where you’ll spend 12 hours in slumber, seeing an apparent future, and the most accurate version of it.
A sacred thing among the Kamo clan, though you weren’t one for traditions anyways. Although, there’s no recording of it. It’s something you remember your father telling you.
You recall as a young child being seated in front of the family head, being pestered and patronized by the elders over this ceremony, curious for the future.
Their futures.
There’s a loud thud on the door, key and door handle clinking, eliciting a jump from you.
“Back!” Satoru heaves, sweating with a single grocery bag in his hand. You laugh, surprised with his ability to sweat in this cold weather. Frost sticks to the ends of his hair, blending in so well with his snowy hair.
“Go shower,” you chuckle, taking the bag from him.
He grins, running away, his feet pounding into the ground. What you don't expect though is him turning back around and throwing himself at you, wrapping his lanky arms around you.
Since Satoru isn’t a member of the Kamo clan, entering the room could interfere with the said ritual. So, he was on his own for the next 12 hours, and knowing how dramatic he is, it probably feels like a day.
“Okay, seriously now. I left dinner in the fridge, just heat it up,” you tell him as you point to the bathroom, silently repeating your command while patting his arm
He nods vigorously, turning around before marching off into the guest bathroom. Before he’s completely inside, he makes one final glance at you.
Then he turns away, leaving you to watch him disappear into the room. Left alone with nothing but the thought of your upcoming task, a sigh passes through your lips.
You shake your head, thinking about preparations and what needs to be done before your ‘ritual’ of sorts. But then the phone starts to ring, startling you yet again. This time you’re stalk-still as you turn towards the ringing landline, watching as the noise insists. Only a handful of people have your house phone. And you really only owned one for the domestic feel.
Contemplating whether you should let it ring or pick up the phone, you grumble to yourself, stomping over to pick it up. Whoever it was wouldn’t call without a reason.
Your voice comes out harsh, “Hello?”
A snicker comes from the other side, it’s a deep one, transforming into a chuckle. “Really? I’m never calling you again—”
“Zenin, please hold your tongue. You know I’m busy today,”
He’s quick to cut you off. “I need a favor,”
You raise an eyebrow, humming, “Yes?”
Static is all you hear, your eyes going wide as you listen to his voice continue on. It’s strange, the request he bestowed upon you. He makes it seem like an honor, but you seem to think otherwise.
You don't seem to realize your hair pricking up, or the way your grip tightens harmfully on the handle.
You groan, head hanging low as you grumble into the phone, your hair covering your face. “I’ll think about it. Talk to you later, Toji.”
“He—”
The line is cut off, a long breath of air is like a stream escaping your mouth. “Unbelievable.” You mutter to yourself, brushing your hair back with your calloused hands.
You refocus on your task at hand yet again. And you turn towards your bedroom, the door cracked open. It’s dark inside, and it seems to await you.
Long lasting slumber.
-
When you were young, many referred to you as a star that shined brightly in the sky. No matter how much pollution contaminated the air, you would stay as a bright twinkling star.
There was a kid you knew when you were younger. He was a couple years older than you, and boy was he handsome.
A scowl plastered on his face, vibrant green eyes that gleamed when he saw something he liked, but the matter of the fact was, he had zero cursed energy. Absolutely nothing.
And still, he became your best friend, though he was treated as your babysitter.
“Toji,” you whined, yanking his hand. It was annoying, you were annoying, but if he even were to dare try anything on you, the clan elders would have his head.
His voice was gruff, annoyed, as he responded. “What?”
“I’m hungry,”
He casts you a glare, sighing as he pulls you down the path. “And my dad said that if I was hungry I should ask the person in charge.” You continued on.
It’s snowy, and 18 year old Toji was growing more and more annoyed. He can’t tell if it’s the cold or your goddamn annoying voice that keeps blabbering in his ear, but he’ll be the bigger person— for once. He’ll suck it up, because in truth, he cared for you a lot like an older brother would.
But this also meant he also treated you like his annoying younger sister.
“Shut up,”
You gasp, a look of disbelief plastered on your face.
Before you were able to send a retort of your own, distant steps were heard. The two of you were walking in the Zenin estate, and you hadn't heard of any guests. Well, Toji hadn't mentioned any guests coming, but it’s not like he would have told you anyway.
In secret, he wanted to see what all the buzz was about. It was just some kid who was born with an ability no one had seen in 500 years. What was the big deal?!
In the distance, snowy white hair bounces. He’s covered by a red parasol. His maid holds his small hand as they pass by. He was dressed in an elegant dragonfly kimono.
Then, the boy turns back. Not to look at you, but he meets the eyes of Toji.
The ‘monkey’. With zero cursed energy, detected easily by the six eyes.
You feel Toji tense up, his hand tightening hard.
It was unusual, how this boy was able to rile up Toji with just a glance. As strange as it was to say, the male was normally calm, collected. The boy turns away, not even sparing you a look.
You roll your eyes, staring back at the seemingly angered boy.
“Well that could be a problem..” you hear him mumble under his breath, and your gaze grows into one of curiosity. His eyes flicker to yours once more, and but only shakes his head in response.
“It’s nothing.”
And the two of you are off once more.
It’s when you’re 16, when you formally meet Satoru.
You’re standing with your arms crossed in your Jujutsu Tech uniform, a couple steps behind him as you chew in the butt of your cigarette.
“Gojo,” you sigh, scratching your head as he continues to walk off, his hands shoved in his pockets as he stops through the streets with a slouch.
A part of you wishes you could throw your head back, whine in annoyance about how you’re stuck as a babysitter. It wasn’t even your job in the first place. But, to keep your face, you suck it up.
Your hand digs into your own pocket, taking out a peppermint that you had no idea was in there.
Your hand extends out, holding the candy in your open palm. His head recoils, eyebrows furrowed like he knew you were trying to poison him.
He eyes you suspiciously before snatching it from your hand, and without a word he opens the wrapper, throwing it back to you.
Internally, you’re irked. How spoiled, you think, looking down at the crinkly, clear wrapper that sits in your palm. You glance back up at him making sure he doesn’t wander far, but to your surprise, he isn’t too far. In fact, he hadn’t even taken a step away from you.
He’s waiting for you.
And though he’s not facing you, you can catch a glimpse of the tips of his ears peeking out of his white hair, burning a deep red. You snort, shaking your head while crushing it into a ball.
It became a normal occurrence. When the young Gojo wished to exit the estate, you were to escort him. But soon, your meeting grew to be as familiar as meeting a friend you’ve known for years.
Every day was about the same: window shopping down the streets, purchasing desserts, exterminating potential kidnappers..
To those that knew of the elements of Jujutsu, many found you to be the pillars, the foundation of it. Like Gods walking among mortals, you were a sight for sore eyes.
And this meant you, and especially the Young Gojo, had many persuers.
You blink slow, cursed energy radiating, spewing out like a leaking faucet, eyes widening as you stare into a window, making eye contact with the two men inside. Gojo is doing the same.
The two of you are staring into the tinted window, because the two of you are hounds. Hounds to foxes, there was nothing you guys couldn't find.
The boy scoffs, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“What a bunch of weaklings.” He grumbles, your hand tapping the top of his head.
“Language. It’s not good to be impolite.” You scold, your hand moving to his shoulder to keep a close eye on him.
He says nothing, only staring ahead with disinterest and utter boredom.
But, today felt like a switch for you. The day he finally opened up and he would never admit it, but he too, felt the same way.
Because you had given him the family he had yearned for, no matter how small.
The film flashes in Satoru’s face, glinting with different colors that reflect onto his pale skin.
He doesn’t blink, not wanting to miss a single moment of unseen memories, of clues you might have left.
It’s not from the camera, it’s from something else.
You’re still talking, and he wonders if what he had seen had been an illusion. And now, he thinks this is ridiculous, that you’re ridiculous.
Nothing you were saying made sense, it didn’t correlate with anything you said in between cuts.
The strongest sorcerer has been stumped. For the first time in years, he’s confused, and he doesn't want to be. He has one chance to understand, but he can’t. And he doesn’t know how.
A part of him wants to call your name out, and maybe God will hear his prayer and send you down to guide him.
“Satoru,” your voice is grainy from the static, your light carefree tone pulling him away from those erratic thoughts.
“You need to calm down. I’m going to tell you a story now. And you need to pay attention. Closely.”
The film cuts again, and he realizes that you would do no talking. It would be whatever the hell you filmed on.
It opens to a small hands, and a man. The previous head of the Kamo clan, wearing their elegant attire to make them appear more.. noble. To hide all their past mistakes.
The film isn't to the man, just barely missing his head, it’s focused on his shoulders and torso.
“Darling, you need the lens to face Dadda’s head. Can you do that for me?”
The small person who was filming shakily lifts it up, and there he is able to see him. The head of the Kamo clan, though unusually so, is sporting a large stitched line through his forehead.
“Daddy, how do I zoom out?”
The girl's voice is highly pitched, the lens now faces her small feet as she fiddles with the buttons. The man lets out a hearty laugh, and there’s movement.
Now Satoru can see that the tiny voice belonged to you.
You’re so small, so tiny.
“Alright, (Y/N). Smile for the camera!”
“Daddy! I’m already taking a video! Stop messin’ with it,” you whine, the lens still facing you downward, he’s able to see how much taller your father is from you. The way you hop up and down trying to get the camera from him. The way your eyes gleamed with joy.
Pure love oozing from your eyes. The angle changes once more, the wooden floor is closer but your father’s voice sounds even clearer.
“Hehe, here sweet pea. See? This button zooms it in, and this one zooms out.”
“Oh! Oh! Gimmie, gimmie! I wanna try!” You take back the camera, now angling it at his face. You’re able to zoom it really close, giggling as you do so.
“You look silly!”
He casts you a lopsided smile, arms crossed.
Even Satoru finds himself smiling at the scene, even though he wasn't there. Your joy felt as though it branched into him through a clip, through a sacred memory.
The video cuts back to you once more, and he doesn't know the purpose of the video. What type of hypnosis, what the purpose was. You confused him further.
“You need to find me, get rid of me Satoru.” Your finger comes up to your forehead, tapping it softly. “Or he will. He’s not who you think he is. That’s not a camera.”
To his surprise, the video doesn't end. Instead, it cuts to a dark scene. Someone bright, it looks like a dark brown corner, the smallest amount of light peering in. How peculiar, this looks seriously familiar.
Suddenly, the entire scene is lit. It’s his home, more specifically his drawer.
His eyebrows furrow as he’s able to see movement from the camera. Someone was in his home, taking that camera.
His camera.
Her camera.
“What the..”
The intruder had a Jujutsu Tech uniform, that much he knew from the pants and shoes, but as soon as he saw their hand, he knew who it was.
“Fucking Kyoto—”
|||
“Will she wake up?”
“She should, I didn’t kill her.” Geto says, stroking her face fondly, almost longingly. Of course, this wasn't Geto Suguru, this was nowhere near the Suguru you knew.
This was Kenjaku. Your father.
“After some rewiring she’ll be as good as new. And,” He turns to Choso, nudging his head in his direction, “She’ll be a good asset to you, Choso.”
Your pale, cold face won’t grow warmer, but when a heavy, deep breath passed through your lips, he felt like he could rest.
You see, Kenjaku never had mortal attachments. He was a free man. But, you, his one and only daughter, held a spot in his heart that no one could hold. So, when he had to kill you, it hurt him.
When he closes his eyes, he can still see your teary eyed face. The betrayal written on it, that your family would do this to you. The one you loved the most.
What he did to you, to get you to fall.. it was almost wrong.
But to have you forever, it was something he was willing to do a thousand times over to keep you. The scuffed up camera in Choso’s grasp is warm from his hand, nearly wet. He’s afraid he might break it.
“Wake up,”
Your eyes flutter, blandly so. Your hues are dark, their normal color dimmed, face void of any emotion.
“You need to help us,
(Y/N).”
Meanwhile, Satoru was frantic.
Before arriving at the Shibuya station, where a disturbance was detected, he ran where you were. Where your body remained, untouched. Completely non-decomposing body, as though you were frozen in time. Like a monument for Jujutsu sorcerers to pray to, a Deity. He wondered if he too could join you in that state.
“Shit.”
Where your body lay was barren, was empty, clearly it had recently been taken.
It’s 7:56pm, and preparations are underway.
Your tired eyes blinked, almost like a ragdoll Kenjaku settled you beside him, sitting you down with your head on his lap while he stroked your head.
It’s when Choso eyes the two of you, more particularly you, suspiciously.
“You feel her blood because she is of the Kamo clan. Strongest sorceress of them all at one point in the modern age. Certainly stronger than you,”
Choso blinked at him, his bagged eyes flickers back between your laying form and the man pampering you. There was something he wasn't mentioning.
It was no lie that this Geto was a liar. So much so that even though the curses let on, they just ignored it because it was for their cause after all.
“Gojo will be arriving soon. After we’re done sealing him I’ll use her on the other inconvenience.”
Of course he meant Yuki, the other special grade.
The two of you watched as Satoru opened his domain, incapacitating both humans and cursed spirits alike while he sped through eliminating them.
It isn’t until he’s done, panting that this Geto makes him and yourself known. Throwing the a box behind him.
“Prison realm: Open.”
“What the..” Satoru mumbles, stepping back. He needs to leave, because whatever that is.. it isn’t safe.
And when he finally decides it’s time to-go,
Geto’s soft voice speaks up.
“Hey, Satoru. It’s been a while.” He’s waving, same charming smile. The same, just older.
Satoru feels his heart drop, because when he turns, he sees you too. Standing there with a blank expression, like a hollow corpse. The smile you reveal doesn’t reach your eyes, even as you told your head in the way you always have.
“How has my boy been?”
It’s void. You’re not there, but you are. You’re here. He almost smiles. His two favorite people are right in front of him, right there, only an arms reach away.
He whispers your name. Not sensei, not Kamo, not one of respect, just your name. Gojo Satoru feels fuzzy; you look just as beautiful as you had all those years ago.
But common sense wins. Satoru Gojo has to get out of here. Until he can’t. Until the prison realm holds him captive, he realizes what’s going on alright.
You’re being manipulated, and that isn’t Geto.
So he shouts, “My six eyes tells me your Suguru. Everything down to your cursed energy, it’s all him. But my heart and soul know otherwise! So hurry up, who are you?!”
Geto laughs, and you glance to the side , watching him pull the string from his stitches. The top of his skull comes off like a bottle cap, revealing a brain with a mouth.
“How’d you know?” He smiles, more demonically.
You blink slowly at Satoru once more, who looks pained. His blue eyes reflect you back, glazing over, swirling, eyebrows just barely pinched.
What is going on?
That is exactly what Fushiguro Megumi thinks, now at a loss for words. He’d seen you before in his childhood home, and sometimes, small snippets of memories from his very early childhood would come running back to him. When you whipped past him the familiar scent had filled his nostrils.
He knows you.
The familiar smell, which takes him back to the promenade, where you had given him that scarf he has hidden away in his closet, the scarf that he’s caught Gojo holding in his hand numerous times in the early night, where no one would see the strongest.
It’s you.
You say nothing, yet everything at the same time. Your eyes hold a deep sorrow, and he extends his hand out. He doesn't know why, but reflexes kick in. He wants you to stay, but you’re gone in a flash.
…
The pile of photos in the drawer near the door of Gojo’s closet reel him back. At times when it was just him in that hold home, he would stand, looking through the pictures of the three students.
She was never in any of them, but one.
There was only one photo she was in.
The one that stands on the top of the table, in a pristine frame.
All of them were taken by that dingy camera.
Extra:
The video starts, a gentle voice in the back laughs quietly at a higher angle. It’s clearly a woman.
She kneels, standing closer to Shoko whose head is down, chin to her chest, asleep with her hands on her lap. Suguru is positioned nearly the same, but his legs are crossed. Satoru is lying on his side, curled up with an arm around himself.
The voice halts her chuckles, zooming in.
“And here are my babies: the first years. I don’t know what’s got the three of them so tired but here they are, fast asleep.”
She moves overhead again, laughing as the camera tilts. She straightens it, allowing her hand to come into frame to stroke Shoko’s hair lightly. Her voice carries a smile.
“Sleep well.” She whispers, poking the girl’s cheek with her finger when she tiredly groans.
“Your sensei will protect you three from it all, no matter what.” It sounds like she’s teasing, but at the same time, her tone is maternal.
The video cuts.
tags list to those who might care: @rivaiken @soontobecowboy @tartarsaucechi1de @sl33pyt1r3 @getos-sugarbby @laylasbunbunny @mor-pheus @exatse @yoonjh1004 @carlgrrimxs @l0velybvnny @jjk-luvr @sanrioooooa @polarbvnny @chokichips @725arii @baconlillies @mellownerdtimemachine @kouyoumarryme @iluv-ace @magical-girl-mari @gurutoru @multi-fandom-fanfic @porridgesblog
6.2k words | cw: Angst, Gore, Character death, MAJOR JJK MANGA SPOILERS, S2 Spoilers, (No)happy ending/ slight comfort, Follows the Events of Gojo's Past arc+un-canon events at ending for the plot, MAJOR mental health warning, FEM READER
THIS STORY DOES NOT CONTAIN PEDOPHILIA
Gojo is very pushy
Description: Gojo was in love with you—his Highschool teacher and the strongest sorcerer of your time— who had known him since he was young. You don't see him in that light, but he is stubborn, even as a highschool student. You are watching your students grow up, becoming stronger with each passing second. And after the failed Star-Plasma Vessel trip, you set out on a man-hunt for your father, who is harboring a new woman's body as his own...
☆*:.｡. Starting here .｡.:*☆
It's dark in the apartment, well.. condo— he is a rich man after all— yet, he can see it all.
He remembers his way around the place, has for many years. He doesn’t even need his six eyes to know where he stands.
He just knows.
When he bought the condo, he purchased the furniture along with it, to keep that memory alive. It was all he had left. Sometimes he wonders if she were alive, how strange it would be, if the Zenin, Gojo, and Kamo clan’s prized possessions all sat at a dinner table, chatting about their days in peace.
He finds himself standing at the table, near the door, with a photograph. A much older woman, patting his and Suguru’s head aggressively, her chin laying on Shoko’s. Her grin was broad, a cigarette peeking out from the corner of her mouth. He and Suguru had an annoyed expression, hence the blurry photo. It was them trying to pull her off them as she was pressing their heads down so she would appear taller.
She was tall already, but two boys that were in the midst of their puberty, skyrocketing like a bean sprout, was a bit degrading to her very large ego. Her upper arm, hardly visible to the camera’s view, has a cloth— the exact same Satoru uses to cover her arm— wrapped around it with a cute little bunny knot that pokes from the side.
He closes his eyes, pulling the cloth from his eyes, breathing out.
“Hey, Sensei! Spar with me!” Satoru shouts, he’s a first year, not knowing anyone but you, the woman who watched him grow up. “Hah?” You chuckle, shaking your head with a smoking cigarette peeking from the corner.
You're sitting at your desk in your chair, it has wheels, which you occasionally spin in circles when no one is watching. Though, since your class is in session, you lay your feet on the wooden desk, which is dented from the amount of time you’ve slammed your heels on it. With your free hand— the other occupied with a newspaper— you shoo him off, continuing, “No way, you’re too weak. And,” you fwip your newspaper, “I’m busy, as you can see.”
He gapes, extremely offended. “I’m the strongest there is!” He shouts, his thumb pointing at his chest, which he puffs out.
“Alright, strongest.” You tease, watching his face grow red as you bare what you like to call, a shit eating grin.
“Let’s see, how strong are you?”
Your head turns to your other first year students, Suguru and Shoko.
Suguru sits with his head in hit palm, clearly dazed and exhausted, and Shoko has her head up in the air, leaning back in her seat with a straw in her mouth. Her arms dangling at her side.
The nearing summer heat is killing all of you, but it's impacting your classes too. The windows are open to let the breeze in, but if you close it, the classroom will turn into an oven. You have a fan running in the background, but only at you.
You know what they say, beggars can’t be choosers.
“If— if I win, we get the fan.”
Suguru and Shoko’s ears perk up, their attention on their classmate.
You shrug, placing the newspaper down. “Alright,” your fingers take the cigarette from your lips with one last puff, blowing the air away with the side of your mouth.
“Here's the deal—” you put it out on the already ashened ashtray. “If you guys win, I’ll buy all three of you fans” you tell them, holding three fingers up, then pointing to your own. “And you can even have mine.”
Then, you smile, it's a scary one that sends shivers down Satoru’s back. “But if I win, not only will the three of you work your asses off outside, you’ll be fully clothed in your uniforms, no unbuttoning, no fans, no water—”
“But Sensei, we’ll die without water!” Shoko whines, still chewing on the straw.
“No you won’t, I'll make sure you three won't. So might as well hydrate before. From dawn till dusk, we’ll train like you’ve never trained before, for the entire week, starting as soon as he loses."
That last sentence froze the room, and you continued with your closed eyes smile, waving Satoru off. “I’ll let the three of you discuss it amongst yourselves.”
He gulps, nodding before trudging back with a slouch to his friends. You observe them whisper, then watch as Satoru gets him in the head before all three of them nod.
He seems more confident, striding back. His hands slam on your desk, his glasses gleam, and that grin you taught him, “I’ll do it!”
You mirror that grin standing up, towering over the growing student, “Atta boy,”
He finds himself in the outdoor gym, right beside the track.
You, even as a teacher, never wore the Jujutsu Uniform, maybe the bottoms at times, but your top was always a tank top. In the bleachers, most of the staff. Your Colleague Mei Mei, old student Utahime, Yaga, everyone was there, to witness the worst defeat that the first years could ever experience.
“Satoru?” You call out sweetly, a newly lit cigarette sitting in the corner of your mouth. You turn, smiling to the camera that Mei Mei points at the two of you, quickly holding up a peace sign.
“Yes?”
“You have anymore conditions you wanna add before I beat you?”
He looks around, almost contemplating whether he should tell you before pointing at himself.
“Go on a date with me?”
“START!”
You laugh, dropping the cigarette and stomping on it.
“In your dreams.”
Satoru is quick, activating his infinity like it’s nothing, then going in for a quick blow. “Cursed Technique Lapse—”
You yawn.
His hand is angled to you, “Blue.”
The ground beneath you is pulled, most things around are pulling into him. All but you, standing still on the ground before being thrown back at you.
It's loud, the rubble falling onto you causing gasps from the Bleachers from students. It's a cloud of smoke, and when it clears, you’re no where to be found.
Hell, even Gojo grows worried. Blood pools from underneath the rubble, and he wants to step forward, make sure you're alright, but he remembers your words.
'Satoru, if anything happens, don’t come near me. If you think the battle is over, it’s just beginning.'
He sighs, awaiting something, anything, but still, nothing. He finds himself putting down his infinity, and Suguru slaps his hand into his face, sighing. He never listens to anything anyone has to say to him.
He finally takes a step, but this is when you finally make your appearance.
“Hey, Satoru.” You groan, pushing off a large slab that sits atop of you.
“You really— wow that was heavy —you need to start listening to the things we adults tell you.” You sigh, bringing a hand in front of yourself, clenching your fist with only your pointer finger out, pointing it at him.
“Cursed Technique,” Your blood behind to fly in front of you, turning into objects similar to needles.
You smile at him, not saying anything else, and he tries again, only to find you were tricking him.
The needles fly, hitting his pressure points.
His eyes fly open, before he falls, paralyzed.
Your binding vow allows you to access a higher amount of your cursed energy for every attack given. Blood Manipulation, a technique handed to you from your Clan, Kamo, allows you to manipulate your own blood at will. You decided to create a binding bow with yourself, allowing you to create a higher input of Cursed energy, to 120% into your attacks. Every attack given to you, that causes you to lose blood, would cause an even greater attack to be inflicted on the person because of this. It's confusing to explain, but you made sure to demonstrate it to your first years.
Satoru just doesn't listen.
Mei Mei is still taking photos of the ordeal with your camera, sure to share them with Yuki, your former classmate.
Satoru stares up at you, who is looking down at him with a smile, your hair falling with gravity, the sun behind your head, illuminating your strands.
“I am the strongest for a reason.” You grin at him, kneeling down and placing a palm on his chest, taking back your blood, which sits in a ball in your hand.
You turn to the bleachers, whistling to your other students who are in the midst of running away.
“Cmere.”
They sigh, walking off.
“I’ve got an errand to run, so you’re going to stay with Yaga—”
“WHAT!” Yaga shouts in the distance, but you ignore him completely, continuing, “and his students. Kapeesh?” You point at them.
They all nod, and you help Satoru up, patting his shoulder.
“Yaga, make sure their uniforms are completely buttoned up, no water, nothing. Just make 'em run. I don't want to see a jog, no walk, just run.”
He nods slowly, watching you send him a thumbs up before patting Shoko’s head.
You scurry off, and are gone for quite some time. So long in fact, that it's already dusk. The trio is sweaty, out of breath panting, and overall exhausted. They walk back to the classroom, the hallways are hot and expect the room to be an oven, yet when they enter, it’s chilly.
On their desks, each their own fan, and you, with your arms crossed, asleep.
No matter how annoying their teacher was, she was always the best.
Was.
By the time they became second years, you were always in and out, or just on the phone. Yaga was now their teacher, but you are still their favorite. Days when you were there, they would sit in your classroom after ditching Yaga’s, sitting with Kento and Yu.
“You three better run off back to your class.” You tell them, smoking with your reading glasses sitting at the bridge of your nose. You has a piece of chalk in your hand as you wrote on the chalkboard, equations that now seem like a piece of cake to them.
They grew too fast over the summer, the boys towering over you. Shoko was still a short girl, who was now smoking. You wonder where she picked that up from.
“Nah! We’ll stay here.” Satoru told her, sitting in your seat and swirling around.
Defeated, you sigh, “Suit yourself.”
He stares at you as you write; really taking in your state. Eyebags that were darker than usual, chapped lips, more empty cigarettes boxes, and don't forget to mention the frequent phone calls.
And, as ironic as it sounds, your phone rings. From the title, he can see a name, read as Yuki.
You click your tongue, placing the hall down and running your hand through your hair. As you pass by, you place a hand on his head, ruffling it while flipping open your phone.
“Yea, Yuki?” Then, you walk out.
Your voice is muffled, slowly fading out the more you walk down the hallway. The last thing he could make out was the word ‘Dad’.
The five students sit in awkward silence before Satoru finally breaks the ice.
“What’s up with her?”
The question was for everyone in general, but mainly towards the first years, who got to see her more than he did, which did get him jealous.
“We don’t know.” Kento speaks up, and it's obvious he’s lying considering the fact that Yu was about to say the man's name.
He didn't press any longer, only narrowing his eyes. Then, humming, leaning back in her seat. It smelt just like her.
He closed his eyes, the plan running through his mind. He nods, thinking how genius he is.
Later, he finds himself in your apartment, sitting at your dining table.
You would jump if you didn’t feel his cursed energy waving from the parking lot.
“Well, here we have a rogue student.” You joke, slipping your shoes off at the door.
“Your shoes off?”
He looks down at his feet, then back up, nodding. “I remember some things.”
You grin, “I know, I didn't make you completely useless.”
It's silent, his eyes wander to the stove. The time was 3:42am, he had been waiting for her for a long time.
“What were you doing?” He asks, staring as she begins boiling water. “Hm? Mission. Tea?” You ask, trying to lighten his mood and overall pressing.
He shakes his head, and you stare at him. His clothes are changed, hair damp, almost completely dry. “Who are you hunting—”
The handle of your tea cup breaks off, the base falling to the ground. It shatters, you stare down at it blankly.
“Satoru.” You say his name coldly, the kettle begins to whistle loud.
“My affairs have nothing to do with you.”
The distance between the two of you is great, like a ripple in time, about immeasurable.
“B-but! I can help you—!”
“Satoru!” You shout, glaring at him, your eyes glowing, face darkens. You calm when you see his expression, almost hurt, and scared. His eyebrows contorted, his lips parted. “Satoru.” You whisper now, walking to him with your arm open. You embrace him, his head to your stomach. Fingers play in his white hair.
“I don’t want you getting hurt. The last thing I want of you is for you to get hurt. This is my own burden,” you take his face in your hands, smiling, “You understand? Taking the future away from children is unforgivable.”
He sighs heavily, wondering when you would stop seeing him as a child, and in a new light as a man.
“I’m not a kid.” He grumbles, his arms wrap around your torso willingly.
“Then a baby,” you joke with a coo, shaking him left and right softly.
“Mei is taking Iori on a mission, I’ll be accompanying them. So, we’ll be gone for no longer than a day.” You inform, stroking his head.
He nods, his eyes growing heavy.
“If you're tired, go to bed.”
“No.”
You shake your head, a light chuckle escaping past your lips. So stubborn. “Suit yourself.”
You go back around to the kitchen, turning off the kettle. “I’ll go shower, your tea is ready.” You tell him, walking over and holding his cup by the rim, placing it on the coaster in front of him. His eyes stare at the cup, almost cautiously. He nods, taking the cup from the table.
By the time you're done, you find the boy asleep upright on the chair, his head down and eyes closed, small snores escaping his lips.
You find yourself scurrying to your table by the door, rummaging through the drawer to pull out an old camera, snapping pictures of him. You laugh, placing the camera on the table he’s at, kneeling in front of him to stare.
You don't remember him growing up this fast, it kind of hurts.
Your hand goes up to his face, squeezing his nose to stop him from breathing. His eyes open wide, and you laugh at his panicked face.
“To bed with you.” You whisper, and he tiredly nods, taking your hand as you lead him to the guest bedroom, but he stops when you try to pull him into the room.
“Satoru,”
He looks down with a pout, his shaggy hair covering his eyes.
“I want to sleep with you.”
You raise an eyebrow at him, shaking your head with a sigh before leading him to your room. Allowing him to open your sheets and sprawl into your bed. You tuck him back in, patting his stomach as you lay down.
“Just like when you were a child. Always asking your parents to sleep over, and of course I let them. You were so cute!” You exclaim, positioning yourself to your side. He stares up into the ceiling, and you watch him. Your head on your hand.
“Stop staring into Narnia, sleep—”
“You won’t die, will you?”
His voice is soft, and he won't look at you. He doesn’t want to see how you're staring at him. Your eyes wide, lips puffed, clearly taken aback.
“Ah, what makes you say that?” You whisper, your tone dropping.
“You don’t sleep, your never home—”
“You’ve been in my house?”
He pouts, “Technically, it’s not a house.”
You laugh at his response. “Satoru, I’m a human.”
“But the strongest.”
“You’ve seen me bleed. I don’t plan on dying right now, but everyone dies, some sooner than others.”
Now, he finally turns to you and your smiling face. He doesn’t cry, not that you’re surprised. He's never cried.
You hear him breathe out a hum, closing his eyes. A smile graces your lips, and you brush his stray hairs from his twitching nose, which tickles him.
“Good night,” you whisper, before getting up and sitting at the chair beside your bed, and wrapping a blanket around yourself.
After a few days of no sleep, it finally hits you like bricks, a shame you have to wake up at seven, but you’ll be sure to thank those two hours of sleep that grace your schedule.
—
The yawn that passes your lips is atrocious. It's the 13th one that you’ve done, and Iori is growing irritated. “Sensei—”
“(Y/N) to you champ,” You correct her, and she bites back her tongue.
“(Y/N)-san.. did you sleep by any chance?” She asks, smiling with tight lips. You, on the other hand, raise an eyebrow, your head leaning on Mei Mei's shoulder, who’s clicking through her red flip phone.
“My personal life is none of your concern.” You tell her.
You swear, the younger these new sorcerers are, the more disrespectful they get.
It’s raining, the roads are wet and slippery. Silence fills the vehicle, aside from the frequent wipes of the window shields and Mei tapping through her phone. You don’t even remember dozing off, just appearing in front of a screwed up house.
Iori turns around, staring at her old teacher and new colleague. She respects her, but can’t stand her. She is the reason Gojo is the way he is.
“You have to keep watch out here in case anything happens.”
With your pinky finger deep in your ear, you're clearly disinterested. “Yeah yeah..” waving them off, Mei mei gives you one final look, her features resembled that of a feline, elegant and cool, she smiles, striding off with her umbrella behind the young sorcerer.
“Two hours!” You shout at their disappearing figures.
That's the reason you were there, to determine whether this was a time warping curse. It’s quite possible the flow of time is distorted in there.
So you sat, and waited. And waited, and waited, until two hours did pass.
With a sigh, you take out your flip phone, dialing Yaga and explaining to him the situation.
“The flow of time is different here, yeah. Utahime is with Mei. … After two days, come assist if Utahime can’t get it.”
You close your device, trudging into the building. Your eyes close, the smell of blood reeks, but you continue to follow the familiar cursed energy, followed by a high pitched scream.
“With a scream like that, you could be a scream queen.” You laugh, throwing your head back.
“Kamo-san!” Utahime exclaims, almost in relief.
“Yoohoo!” You greet, waving your hand at her, the other lost in your pocket.
“Have you figured it out yet?” You ask, your head tilting.
She stares at you, almost annoyed.
“Not yet.”
“You best hurry,” you start, fishing a cigarette from your pocket. It’s not boxed, your pocket is just full of cigarettes. The other pocket held the lighter. Your hand cups it, lighting the cigarette. A cloud of smoke hits her in the face, and you laugh at her, pointing as she waving her hand away.
“Sorry about that, but anyways,” your pointer finger is pointing in the air, moving in circles. “Time is running differently in here.”
“I had the feeling,” Mei says, standing besides you.
“Go on Utahime, figure it out.” You shoo her, sitting on the ground of the hallway. It's dirty, dust and bugs crawling throughout the space, but you’ve dealt with worse.
In a daze, you hear Utahime and Mei’s muffled voice, a couple thuds, then the ground, which you were sitting on, crumbling apart.
The three of you in a free fall, though the only one panicking seems to me Utahime.
You're falling in circles, hair flying everywhere, cigarette still in your mouth, you take off the bandage from your finger, opening the scab and drip blood. You bring the heat of your blood to almost boiling, turning it into vapor so you can stay above in the air.
Utahime is screaming bloody murder still, and no doubt in your mind that she could be the next scream queen.
You find yourself next to Shoko, listening to Satoru tease Utahime. “You cryin?"
“No! I’m not, respect your Seniors!” She shouts, crushed by the rubble.
You ruffle Shoko’s hair before coming behind Satoru, closing your fist you knock the back of his skull.
“Ow!” He whines, holding it in pain.
“Be respectful, kid.” You scold, blowing the smoke from your cigarette away from him. Your hand grabs ahold of the large rubble that crushes Utahime, allowing her to crawl out.
“If I was crying? Would you console me?” Mei asked, Gojo responding seriously, but also playfully.
“No way! You wouldn't cry, you're strong Mei!” He tells her, and you sigh.
Utahime, still on the ground, shoots up. The rubble pieces on her back fell, and you stared blankly at him.
“GOJO!”
Behind her, a large curse pokes up, startling Utahime, and even you a little. Utahime jumps on you, who is still holding the rubble piece up. You drop it, eyes wide as you stare at it.
“Yikes.” You whisper, when another curse eats it.
“Hey, Satoru. It’s not nice to pick on the weak!” You hear a familiar voice.
Suguru, under the influence of Satoru.
“How long do you plan on holding on for?” You ask teasingly, feeling the girl shake.
She stares into your eyes before jumping off, her face red as a tomato, teeth clenched while her finger waves at you accusingly.
“I-I- I DIDN’T MEAN THAT! I THOUGHT YOU WERE.. uh.. My dog! Yea, my dog!”
You raise an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was a bit, comforting..” you tell her, teasing her by showing her your embarrassed face, gaze to your side, flickering around before looking back into her eyes. Your arms hold yourself, and you laugh right as her mouth pops open.
She quickly leaves when she notices Shoko. Hugging the girl tightly,
“Sensei!” Shoko calls out, and you notice something.
It’s as bright as day. The sun shining down on all of you, the clouds on the blue sky.
You gaze up blankly, slightly in a daze.
“What is missing?” You whisper to yourself, your fingers rubbing on your chin.
Then, amongst their conversation, you hear one of them talk about a veil, presumably discussing an outfit, and you internally hear glass shatter.
The three students kneel in front of Yaga.
“Who was in charge of the veil?” He asks, and the two point to the one in the middle.
Satoru.
You pinch the bridge of your nose, groaning.
Again, your phone rings. Satoru stares at you, almost accusingly, but you pay him no mind.
“Yuki,” you start, walking out the room. Satoru looks in a daze watching you leave, and Yaga following suit, punches the boys on the head before he leaves.
“Hey, we can see the hearts in your eyes.” Suguru teases, hitting his shoulder.
“Really!? You can?!” He asks, genuinely curious.
The two stop and stare at him, and Satoru feels stupid.
“I’m obviously kidding.”
“..”
“..”
“You can’t send them on that!” You shout at Yaga, so loudly that just they can hear you as clear as day.
The school rumbles under your wrath, a fee students in the classrooms fearful. But the trio in the gym stand uncaring.
“Please, Yaga.”
Yaga looks down at you, sighing before patting your head. “It’s not my decision, kid.”
You right the corners of your eyes, chewing on your bottom lip.
“I know.” You whisper, walking away from him.
When your kids were going on a life threatening mission, you were being sent off by the higher ups, finding your father.
Kenjaku.
It would be hard, considering he changes his body every few years.
You don't understand why Riko Amanai was being in the care of two second years. You’ve already been in contact with her for a couple months, filling her in on things no one else wanted to do.
You could easily take care of this, but higher-ups said Kenjaku was first.
So you bit down your tongue, swallowed the ball forming in your throat, and walked away from the school campus.
I remember Dad, he had that scar over his forehead.
You flipped open your phone, receiving a message from Yuki, which read, Sendai City, and an attached image of a woman, bobbed hair, and that same scar through her forehead holding a toddler.
You hold your breath.
A brother.
Even though the two of you, biologically speaking, had different parents, you couldn't help but notice similarities the two of you had. Same gleam in your eyes, same cheeky smile.
You found yourself chuckling a bit at the photo, and at the boy.
“Okay,” you whisper, your phone back into your pocket with a nod. Hand clenched. “Sendai,” you tell yourself, marching off.
…
…
You should have come earlier. The Jujutsu Tech, was a nightmare. Blood everywhere, a destroyed entrance, and a failed mission.
They sent you to get rid of Kenjaku, but when you heard of what had happened, you rushed back home.
Your mind running a million times a minute. Toji killed Riko, he hurt your students.
All you could think about were your boys.
“Satoru?! Suguru?!” You shout, running towards the dorm rooms. Just as your about to knock on Satoru’s door, Suguru is beside you. “He’s not in there.”
You almost gasp at his appearance, so different from what your used to. His hair is out, his eyes purple and bloodshot from crying, he’s not in his uniform.
White baggy shirt and some sweatpants you gave him as a first year that had finally come to fit him.
You give him a broken smile.
“C’mere,” you whisper, opening your arms to him. You pat his back, rubbing it in circles, but he doesn’t cry.
He trembles, but he doesn't cry.
“It was my fault, I’m sorry. I shouldn't have left—”
“I’m too weak.” He cuts you off, his forehead on your shoulder. “I can’t keep up with him anymore.” He tells you, and your heart almost breaks.
You give him a reassuring squeeze, sighing. “Suguru, in this world, nobody is truly equal.” It's the honest truth, you think. Something you wish someone had told you in your younger days. “I just hope, in this life, you can all find happiness.”
You hold his face in your hands, smiling up at him.
“My kids are growing up so big, so fast. So I'll do this one last time.” You tell him, that last part confusing him, but you notice his eyes gloss over.
One last time.
You make your way to Shoko after taking Suguru back to his bed, who is in the second year classroom, alone.
You lean at the doorway, and she doesn’t notice you. A cigarette sticking from the corner of her mouth as she flips through her medical books. A bag of opened chips sit on the three desks she put together. The room is dim, but familiar.
“There’s my favorite girl,” you greet, finally walking up to her.
She too, seems more tired than usual.
You pat her head, ruffling her hair a bit.
“Hey! What’re you doing here?” She asks with a smile, watching you stare at the three desks, letters carved into them. You chuckle, responding without looking.
“I’m here to say goodbye.”
She blinks, then laughing. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you're.. going to die..” realization hits her.
You only smile back, hand on her cheek as you stroke her with your thumb.
“Lay off on the cigarettes,” you begin, and she takes her head out of your grasp, shaking her head profusely.
“No..”
“Make sure to make your bed in the morning, brush your teeth, wash your face,”
“Stop.” She says, chewing on the cigarette.
“Oh and make sure those morons take care of themselves as well.
“Sensei!”
You stare at her, and she looks in your eyes.
You find your eyes watering. This has never happened before. You don’t recall a single memory of you crying. But, here you are. In front of one of your old students, crying.
“Ah, this is so strange.” You mutter, wiping your eyes, and Shoko stares at you, her own face growing red, eyes filled with emotion.
“Take care, Sensei.” She tells you, hugging you hard.”
You snort, squeezing her back. “You too, I love you all very much.”
You leave her back to her studying. Your first years, took it easier. They’re too gullible, to innocent, you can’t tell them.
You wave them goodbye, and lastly was Satoru.
But he wasn’t there.
He was, somewhere.
Not where she needed him.
She laughed at herself, shaking her head as she made her way back to Sendai.
Her last phone call was made to Yuki, “Hey,” you start. And she’s silent. You hear sniffles from her end of the phone, and you can’t help but tease her. “If you start crying now I won’t be able to stop myself.”
“I love you.” You tell her, and she’s crying on the line, unable to say anything. You end the call, the last one to make, Satoru. Of course, he doesn’t answer, so you talk for the voicemail.
“Satoru, my boy. My pride and joy, you weren’t at school so I couldn’t talk to you face to face. And I have a lot that I want to say, but I'm running on limited time.”
You swallow, walking down the street, and hand in your pocket, other holding your flip phone to your ear.
“Don’t blame yourself, number one. I don’t wanna hear, I should have been there, or blah blah blah. Only I’m allowed to do that. Anyways, I'm sure at this point, you’re stronger than me. Way stronger than me. But, not the strongest. I’m the strongest. Does that make sense? I'm sorry, I'm rambling, I just wanted to tell you, it’s been a pleasure knowing you, and I'm sorry I won’t be able to see you become the man you’ve dreamt of being. I love you, Satoru, and take care of yourself and the other—”
Your time with the caller is over, your voicemail has been sent.
“Ah damn.” You mutter, standing in front of a warehouse.
Cursed energy if radiating from the center, so you bring your fingers up. Your pink and ring fingers interlock, your middle fingers curl, fitting side by side, and your pointer fingers are straight up, the tips touching each other, your thumbs too.
“Domain expansion: Bloody Mirror.”
Satoru hears glass breaking while on his way back to the school, his hands are in his pockets, and he’s care free, thinking about bothering his Sensei—
Screams is all he hears. Sobs, and Yaga, his head down and shaking, holding what seemed to me a bloodied armband.
Heh, funny. It looks like the same one that (Y/N) used.
Utahime stands in front of Yaga, head in her hands and shaking her head. This was just a dream, she kept telling herself, but her sobs wouldn’t stop.
“Satoru.” A voice called out, it was Yaga. Even from far away, his voice was just so clear.
His steps grew heavier, like weights were on his ankles. His posture even began slouching, with his heart racing.
“Hey Yaga! Say, where’s (Y/N)- Sensei? She’s always out and about—”
“She’s dead.”
“And she never comes home..” he says, whispering the words home. He doesn’t even realize his eyes go wide, of that the only sound he can hear is his beating heart. It scared him. Really badly, it scared him. His feet carried him to Shoko’s ‘Lab’, though it was really a morgue.
He didn’t expect to find Suguru, who was usually holed away in his room since the incident, sitting on the chair looking down. His hands clenched, he didn’t want to get up.
Shoko’s eyes were red, puffy, tired.
A cloth over the body, and his feet took him to it.
He saw someone, with the same hair color as you under there, and it had felt like he had died again.
He began peeling the cloth away, but that’s when Shoko stopped him, right below your eyes, that's where she stopped him.
What he didn’t get to see, what only Shoko saw, was the largest, hole in a person’s face she had ever scene in her small, but broad highschool years as a healer.
Not only was your mouth missing, but your arm was completely ripped off, and if she had to describe how it had been torn, it would have looked like string cheese, as though someone had torn it off in such a way, as to torture you.
Another hole through your chest, your intestines no longer existed and your spinal cord severed, but, through and through, they were told you still won.
Only dropping down when a sorcerer came, giving them a smile before plopping down.
“Let me see her.” Satoru tells her, but his grip is weak, his hands tremble.
“Let me heal her first—”
“Let me see her first! I want to see.. I want to see how she won.” He says, his voice going from a loud shout to a soft whisper.
Shoko lets go, turning away because she doesn’t want to have to bear the sight of the scene once more.
Satoru drops it, wanting to scream but nothing will come out, wanting to cry, but his eyes are just so dry.
He wants to say something, but his voice is gone.
He’s gone.
He stares down blankly at the corpse, The Strongest is dead.
The next one will take over, the cycle never ending.
He doesn't even realize that his breathing grows labored, his eyes, for the first time in his life, are unable to see.
His six eyes, the jewels of his clan, prevent him from seeing.
He can’t feel anything, he can’t move, but he finds himself in the middle of your apartment. Pictures of him and you and Shoko and Suguru, and Yaga—
Everybody.
With that dingy camera, you snapped hundreds of photos. He knew where you would hide the camera, so when he skimmed through it, he found himself falling apart. Pictured from days he doesn't even remember, his childhood all in this stupid old camera.
So stupid.
But he can’t contain himself. He can’t control his heart, the way his forehead hits the wood floors as he begs God, He who blessed the young Gojo, for her back. He would give anything for her back. His heart was with her, it would never come back.
The more he clicked through them the more he would ache. Looking at the photos with a trembling hand, he comes across one where the four of them are smushed in the back seat of a car. All of them sleeping, with someone else, presumably the driver that you threatened begged to take a photo for you. You were winking, finger to your lips like you were shushing.
Shoko was on top of your lap, Suguru and Satoru on either side, leaning on your shoulders.
He chuckled, and the more we went, the more silly photos he came across. He found himself wiping his tears away, replacing them with his laughter.
Shoved away in his pocket was your armband, which he now used as his blindfold, and in the other.
A dingy old camera to take photos, and make memories with his students.
But, sometimes, he’ll go back to the original camera, that hides away in the same drawer, looking at the past and reliving those memories.
He wonders how Megumi feels every time he looks at the numerous photos of you that are scattered in the house. The carvings of Gojo’s height, made by you as he grew. The two strongest, living in one house, at the same time. So, he looks Megumi, possibly as a projection of himself, but he has Tsumiki. He also finds it funny, when Itadori is with him, baring the same smoke you once had.
Wanting to laugh, it seems that the Strongest are always taking in the enemy's kid. It’s like a bong between them all.
hi guys!! i messed up in my last post Sato (i just picked a random name) is four years old!!
should i bring nanami back👀
season 3 spoilers…not really but just in case
part 3 / series masterlist
Your son skipped beside you, swinging a tree branch like a sword. He had finally woken from his nap and was buzzing with excitement, talking nonstop about Megumi and Yuji—his “big brothers,” though sometimes he insisted Yuji was his “big sister,” which made everyone laugh.
“Mommy,” he puffed, cheeks pink from the walk, small plush hands gripping your pant leg. “When is Daddy coming back?”
Your heart squeezed, but you kept your smile steady. “He’s on a secret mission, sweetheart.”
“How much longer?” He tilted his face up, blue eyes bright and searching. “Why can’t we go home?”
“Sato…” you murmured.
“I should be in school,” he added seriously. “And you should be at work.”
Your breath caught. One lie piled on another until they blurred together.
Before you could form a new one, Yuji swooped in and lifted him into the air, tossing him high. Sato’s laughter rang through the empty station.
“Why don’t we switch?” Yuji said, setting him on his shoulders. “I’ll take him for a bit.”
You nodded. It was easier that way. Yuji kept him smiling—kept him bright—something you were struggling to do while hiding in an abandoned subway.
Underground was safer. No eyes. No witnesses.
You sighed. Before all of this, your life had been normal.
Sato went to school like any four-year-old—your school. Teaching eight-year-olds had been your excuse to always be close to him. You’d walk home hand in hand. He’d race to the living room while you started dinner. And an hour later, Satoru would come bursting through the door, full of energy, just in time for Sato to crash into him and chatter endlessly about his day.
If you didn’t shoo them out of the entryway, they’d stay right there on the floor, talking and laughing.
Your throat tightened.
If only you’d talked him out of leaving that night.
He had taken Sato trick-or-treating, walked him door to door for candy. You watched from the doorway as he tucked your son into bed, never knowing it would be the last time you’d see him.
Now the plan was simple: reach Jujutsu High, speak with Tengen about Sato, about Satoru, about the world falling apart.
Yuta, Megumi, and Yuji escorted you. Choso and Yuki stayed behind to dig through her records about cursed spirits. Maki had gone off on her own.
“(Y/N)-san?” Yuta’s voice pulled you back. “Are you alright?”
You looked up. He was watching you carefully.
“I’m fine,” you said, glancing ahead at Yuji and Sato. “Just… thinking.”
“About Yuji?”
“And everyone else,” you admitted. “Most of the staff know about my son. The students too. I just keep wondering how long it will take before someone comes looking for him. Now that Satoru’s gone.”
Yuta’s hand shifted on his sword. “When that happens, I’m on your side. Both of you. Gojo-sensei protected us—so now we protect what he left behind.”
Your hands slid into your pockets. “I don’t want anyone else to die.”
You stepped around a dark puddle… and then stopped.
There were no sprinklers. No leaking pipes. No reason for water to be pooling here.
You forced yourself to keep going, brushing off the discomfort, even though something felt wrong. The boys walked on ahead while you stayed back, watching puddles form one after another along the platform.
“That’s strang—”
A hand burst from the puddle and clamped around your ankle.
You screamed as you were yanked down, icy black water swallowing you whole. Instinct took over—you flooded your body with cursed energy, electricity tearing through the liquid.
A shrill, gurgling scream answered.
You tore yourself free and clawed back onto the platform, gasping.
Your eyes flew around the station.
Yuta was gone. Megumi and Yuji were sprinting in opposite directions.
And Sato—
Sato was gone.
“Yuji!” you screamed, shaking, soaked to the bone.
With one last desperate glance around the platform, you turned and ran after him.
“Yuji!” you screamed, your voice ripping through the empty station.
Your soaked clothes clung to your skin as you ran, shoes slapping against wet concrete. Your cursed energy still crackled faintly across your arms, the echo of that thing’s touch burning under your skin.
“Sato!” you shouted. “Sato, answer me!”
No response.
Just the hollow howl of wind rushing through the tunnels.
Your chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.
No. Not again. I will not lose him too.
You froze in the middle of the subway platform.
You rounded a corner—and nearly slammed straight into Yuji.
He was breathing hard, eyes wide, panic etched across his face.
“I lost him!” he blurted. “One second he was on my shoulders and the next—something yanked him down!”
Your stomach dropped.
“Where?” you demanded.
“There!” Yuji pointed down a side tunnel, where thick black water had begun creeping across the floor like it was alive. “Something dragged him in that direction!”
You didn’t hesitate.
Your son stood several feet away, unmoving, his small face tilted toward the open sky beyond the station roof. Sunlight spilled down in a perfect beam, illuminating his snow-white hair and those unmistakable blue eyes—too bright, too powerful to ever be safe.
“Sato!” you shouted. “Where’s your hat?!”
He turned with a grin that was far too calm. “Mom! I found someone who can take us to Dad.”
Your stomach dropped.
His tiny finger lifted and pointed into the darkness beyond the tracks, where the station lights failed to reach.
“What are you talking about?” You hurried toward him. “Sato, come here. Now.”
“Don’t raise your voice at the child.” The voice crawled out of the shadows like a curse.
Principal Gakuganji emerged slowly, cane tapping against the concrete as he approached. His hand settled on your son’s shoulder—gentle, but claiming.
“He is simply being respectful to his elders.”
Your blood turned to ice.
That man had signed death warrants with the same calm expression he wore now. He’d ordered Yuta and Yuji executed. Approved countless killings after Shibuya. He’d even branded Satoru a criminal.
“Sato,” you said, your voice sharp as glass, “get over here. Right now.”
Your son flinched. His face crumpled as he wrenched free and hurried to you. You dropped to your knees, gripping his small face between your hands, scanning him for injuries.
“Are you okay?”
He nodded, eyes wide.
Gakuganji cleared his throat. “(Y/N) Gojo. We’ve been searching for you.”
“Why?” you snapped. “We have nothing to discuss.”
He stepped closer. “On the contrary, we do.”
You scoffed. “Whatever problems you have with Satoru are not my concern.”
“You do know,” he said calmly, “that Satoru Gojo has been sealed.”
Your breath hitched.
“Sealed?!” Sato gasped. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” you said quickly, clamping a hand over his ear. “Do not say things like that in front of him.”
Gakuganji didn’t blink. “Attempting to free him will brand you a criminal.”
You laughed, bitter and sharp. “You already told me that—on my front doorstep. You think I forgot?”
“Then why are you running?” he asked softly. “If you have nothing to hide.”
You straightened slowly, fury burning behind your eyes. “You are not my husband. You are not my father. And you don’t get to demand answers from me.”
You turned, pulling your son close as you moved deeper into the station.
But your voice rang back over your shoulder like a warning shot.
“What did you want with my child?
You tightened your grip on Sato’s hand.
Behind you, Gakuganji’s cane tapped once. Then again.
“You already know the answer,” he said. “Any son of Satoru isn’t ordinary. We just want to make sure that he is.”
You didn’t turn around. “He’s a child. That’s all.”
“Is he?” The old man’s voice carried a thin smile. “A child with crystal blue eyes.”
Sato squeezed your hand. “Mom… it feels funny here.”
Your heart twisted. “Don’t look around.. Just keep your eyes on me.”
Gakuganji moved closer. You could feel him now—his presence prickling against your skin like static.
“The Six Eyes can be dangerous,” he continued. “Especially at that age.”
You finally turned, rage blazing in your eyes. “So what? His father has blue eyes; it’s called genes. Are you going to execute him like you tried to do with Yuji? With Yuta? Like everyone else who doesn’t fit into your precious rules? He is as normal as they get.”
A flicker of irritation crossed his face.
“Do not compare him to those boys. Your son could be far more dangerous.”
Sato peeked out from behind your leg, “I just wanted to see Daddy…” he whispered.
Your chest ached.
“If he’s ordinary, then let’s test the child,” Gakuganji said. “He is the heir of the man who causes thousands to die…we wouldn't want that to happen again.”
You placed yourself fully in front of Sato, electricity crackling faintly at your fingertips. “You will not touch him.”
“On the contrary,” Gakuganji replied, lifting his cane. “The higher-ups have decided he must be taken into custody.”
The lights above the platform flickered.
Taken.
Not protected.
Not trained.
Taken.
Sato’s grip tightened.
“Mom?” he whispered. “Why does he feel… bad?”
You swallowed, forcing your voice steady. “Because he is.”
Gakuganji raised his cane, and talismans slid from his sleeve like falling leaves. “If the child comes peacefully,” he said, “You will not be harmed.”
Your eyes burned with fury and grief.
“And if he doesn’t?”
The old man’s gaze hardened.“Then we will do what jujutsu society has always done to threats it cannot control.”
You felt something ancient and violent awaken inside your chest.
You pulled Sato behind you.
“Touch my son,” you said, lightning crackling across the platform, “and I swear to God… you’ll see why Satoru chose me as his wife.”
“No need to turn this into a fight,” Gakuganji said calmly. “If I die here, you will be branded a criminal—and your son will be left completely alone. I suggest you think very carefully.”
A chill slid down your spine.
That pressure in the air…
That familiar, suffocating presence…
You slowly turned your head.
“(Y/N)-san,” a voice said behind you. “Don’t answer him.”
Yuta stepped out of the shadows.
Blood soaked his uniform, dark and sticky against the white fabric. His hair was matted, his eyes wild—no, empty, like something had burned everything human out of them. A cursed blade gleamed in his hand as he raised it toward Gakuganji.
“All the others are dead,” he said flatly. “You can leave now… or I’ll make you join them.”
Even Gakuganji stiffened.
“Yuta Okkotsu,” he muttered. “So you chose treason.”
Yuta didn’t blink. “I chose her.”
Your breath caught, for a second, the words reminded you so much of your husband.
His student stood before you, keeping his promise.
Cursed energy flooded the platform, thick and violent. The overhead lights shattered one by one, plunging the station into a dim, flickering half-dark.
Gakuganji clicked his tongue. “So this is how it ends.”
He took a single step back—slow, deliberate.
“But understand this,” he added, eyes never leaving you. “Refusing to come with me only makes you look guilty.”
Your vision blurred with rage.
“Why would I ever go with a man who ruined my family?” you screamed. “I hate you. I hate everything about you. Satoru was right—you’re an old, selfish bastard. If I could kill you, I would.”
For a moment, the station was silent except for the low hum of Yuta’s blade.
Gakuganji’s lips curled. “Hatred suits you, (Y/N) Gojo. It makes you predictable.”
The old man was already retreating into the shadows.“You can’t hide forever,” his voice echoed. “The child will be ours.”
And then he was gone.
You turned, looking at Sato, he was shaking, his blue eyes filled with tears, streaking his cheeks.“Mom… I didn’t like him. He wanted to take me.”
Your heart broke.
“They’re going to come back,” you whispered.
Yuta met your gaze, deadly serious. “They already decided he’s a threat.”
You tightened your grip on Sato.
“Then they’ll have to go through us first.”
Your eyes burned as you squeezed them shut, forcing the tears back.
“(Y/N)-san…” Yuta said gently. “We just need to regroup, meet the others, and talk to Tengen. If we can figure out how to undo this, everything can go back to normal.”
“Right.” You took a shaky breath. “They’re going to send people for us, Yuta.”
He met your eyes without hesitation.“They’ll all die,” he said quietly. “I swear.”
The certainty in his voice didn’t comfort you. It scared you.
“I’m so tired,” you whispered. “In every way. I don’t think I have anything left.”
“We’ll find somewhere safe to rest,” Yuta replied. “We move again tomorrow.”
Yuta met your gaze, deadly serious. “They already decided he’s a threat.”
You tightened your grip on Sato.
“Then they’ll have to go through us first.”
Your eyes burned as you squeezed them shut, forcing the tears back.
“(Y/N)-san…” Yuta said gently. “We just need to regroup, meet the others, and talk to Tengen. If we can figure out how to undo this, everything can go back to normal.”
“Right.” You took a shaky breath. “They’re going to send people for us, Yuta.”
He met your eyes without hesitation.
“They’ll all die,” he said quietly. “I swear.”
The certainty in his voice didn’t comfort you. It scared you.
“I’m so tired,” you whispered. “In every way. I don’t think I have anything left.”
“We’ll find somewhere safe to rest,” Yuta replied. “We move again tomorrow.”
Sato stirred in your arms, his small fingers curling into your shirt.
“Mommy… am I bad?”
Your heart shattered.“No,” you said immediately, kissing his hair. “You’re perfect. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But they don’t like me,” he murmured.
“They’re just scared,” you said softly. “Because they don’t understand how special you are.”
Sato yawned, his glowing blue eyes dimming as exhaustion finally took him. Yuta glanced around the abandoned station, senses sharp.
“There’s an old maintenance room down the platform,” he said. “Barriers still intact. We can hide there for the night.”
You nodded, too tired to argue. “What about Yuji and Megumi?”
author's note part one (“what do you mean your son was born with the six eyes?!”)
hi guys! i was not expecting this story to blow up like it did. this was something that i had on my brain and wanted to get out.
this story will be a series, depending if you guys like it or not. i have ten chapers planned out for this.
moving forward there will be references to season 3 of jjk.
if you want to be tagged for the series lmk in the comments !!
part 2
“This is bad—this is so bad.” Itadori paced in tight circles, hands tangled in his hair. “What if someone breaks the seal and uses him against us?”
“It’s worse than that.” Yuta stepped forward, stopping beside your son. He knelt slightly, resting his hands gently on the child’s head, eyes sharp with dread. “He has his father’s cursed energy pattern.”
Your breath caught. You brought a hand to your forehead, fingers digging into your scalp.
Yuki stiffened. Understanding hit her all at once. Her eyes snapped to yours, and for a moment, the rest of the room disappeared.“…Your son has the Six Eyes,” she said quietly, “and Gojo’s cursed energy?”
“…Yeah.” You barely managed the word. Saying more felt like tempting fate.
“Time out!” Itadori threw his hands up. “What is happening?!” His gaze flicked between you, Yuta, and Yuki, panic rising. “I feel like I just walked into the middle of a nightmare.”
Yuki didn’t look away from you. “I think you owe us an explanation.”
You swallowed.
“Satoru can explain it better than I ever could… but I’ll try.” You looked down at your son, his small face peaceful, unaware of the storm around him. You pulled your son closer. “He was born with the Six Eyes. We don’t know how. The odds are impossible, but… something aligned that night. Satoru noticed immediately. He didn’t say anything until he was sure.”
“Go on,” Yuki said softly.
“When he turned three… we started noticing something else.” Your voice trembled. “His cursed energy—it isn’t just powerful. It’s structured exactly like Gojo’s.”
The room went dead silent.
“Not similar,” Yuta said quietly. “Not inherited.”
He looked up, eyes dark. “Identical. Like a reflection.”
You nodded. “Basically.”
“Why tell us this now? It makes no sense,” Choso said. “You could’ve kept this to yourself.”
Tears welled in your eyes. You wrapped your arms around yourself, like you were the only thing holding you together. “It’s easier to kill a child than a grown man who’s mastered his technique. If that thing out there can steal bodies, what makes my son any different?!”
A sob tore out of you. “We didn’t ask for this.”
Itadori stepped closer, gentle but steady, resting a hand on your shoulder. “He isn’t cursed,” he said softly. “Hell… we’re all cursed.”
“I’m not,” Megumi muttered.
Yuta exhaled slowly. “There’s nothing you need to panic over. We’ll protect you. We just need to get Gojo-sensei back.” His gaze softened as it fell on your son. “(Y/N)… do you understand what kind of power your child holds?”
“Yeah.” Your voice barely rose above a whisper. “Satoru balances the world. With him gone, everything’s already unstable. But if he’s gone for good…” You pressed your hand to your mouth, unable to finish.
“If he dies,” Yuta said quietly, “Your son becomes the new balance of the jujutsu world.”
You nodded. You had always known. From the moment you’d seen those impossible eyes, you’d known what kind of fate awaited him. The same unbearable weight Satoru had carried his entire life—passed down to someone who hadn’t even learned to speak yet.
“He’s a baby!” Itadori snapped. “He shouldn’t have to balance anything!”
“They won’t care,” Megumi said darkly. “They’ll kill him or turn him into a weapon.” He looked up at you. “Now I get why you kept it secret. In the wrong hands, this information is a death sentence. And without Gojo… it’s even worse. There are curse users out there stronger than us.”
A horrible thought crossed Itadori’s face. “What if Yuta breaks the seal?”
Yuki let out a sharp laugh. “You’ve lost it. The second that seal breaks, the entire world will feel him.”
“It could work,” Itadori insisted. “We break it, trick everyone into thinking Sensei is back.”
“Some people aren’t that stupid,” Megumi shot back. “They’ll know the difference between a baby and Gojo.”
You swallowed, staring down at your sleeping child. “We don’t have the luxury of hiding,” you said. “He looks just like his father.” Soft white hair. The same impossible presence, even sealed. “Everyone knows who Satoru Gojo is. It’s only a matter of time before people start asking questions.”
Your fingers curled around your son’s tiny sleeve. “And when they do… they won’t be asking out of kindness.”
Yuki stepped forward. “Fine. We’ll fight. We can’t hide forever.” Her gaze flicked to the small bundle in your arms. “How old is the kid?”
“Four months,” you said quietly. “And I’m not afraid for myself. I’m afraid for my son.”
Yuki nodded once. “Then we move fast. We gather everyone we can. Because this is going to be messy.”
She looked around the room.
“Itadori is supposed to be dead. Maki’s still recovering. You’re carrying a baby with the Six Eyes. And Yuta—” her eyes slid to him, “—you already have a target painted on your back.”
Her lips curved into a grim smile.
“Which means the clock is already ticking.”
“What’s our plan?” Itadori asked.
“It’s simple,” Yuki said, voice sharp. “We survive. We protect the kid. And we make sure no one knows he exists until we’re ready to fight.”
Itadori leaned forward, fists clenched. “That’s… not a plan. That’s surviving.”
Yuki’s eyes hardened. “Survival is step one. Step two: we recruit allies. Step three: we prepare for the inevitable. Someone strong enough will come for him. And when they do, we need to be ready.”
You tightened your hold on your son. “And what about Satoru?”
Yuta’s voice was quiet but steady. “We can’t count on him… not yet. So we’re it. This group, this little army—we’re his shield.”
Silence fell, heavy and tense.
“Fine,” you said finally, voice trembling but determined. “Then we fight.”
You lift your sleeping toddler into your arms, his small weight settling against your chest, his head fitting perfectly into the crook of your neck like it had been made to belong there. He stirs once, then relaxes, breath warm against your collarbone.
Ten days.
Ten days since you left your house with nothing but what you could carry. Ten days since the council had come pounding on your door, faces grim, voices sharp as blades as they delivered the news you still couldn’t say out loud without your chest tightening.
Gojo Satoru had been sealed.
You’d left before they could return—before they could look at your child and decide he was too dangerous to exist.
Yuta had been the first to find you. He hadn’t asked questions you couldn’t answer. He’d simply listened, then stayed. You’d been by his side ever since, moving when he moved, trusting his judgment the way Satoru had told you to.
If anything happens, Satoru had said once, smiling like it was nothing, find Yuta. Or Megumi. Or Shoko.
Those were the names he trusted. Those were the names you clung to now.
“(Y/N)-san,” Itadori says gently from beside you. “If it makes you more comfortable… I have a beanie he could wear. To hide his hair.”
You glance down at your son—at the unmistakable white strands peeking out against your shoulder—and smile despite everything.
“Thank you.”
The corridor stretches ahead of you, quiet except for soft footsteps. After a moment, Yuta speaks again.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah,” you say. “Anything.”
Itadori exhales slowly. “Your son… he’ll be as powerful as Gojo-sensei, right? Their powers are the same?”
You hesitate, chewing on your lip as you keep walking. “It’s complicated,” you admit. “But… yes. Their cursed energy is similar, in a way.” Your grip tightens just slightly. “Once Satoru is out, he can explain it better. I freaked out when I found out.” Your voice drops at the end.
“That’s okay,” Itadori says quickly. “I wasn’t worried about that.”
Then he hesitates. His gaze drops to the floor. “I was just thinking—if Sukuna takes ov—”
You stop so suddenly he almost walks into you.
Your heart slams against your ribs. The name alone sends a cold shiver down your spine. The last time Sukuna had taken control, you’d felt him from miles away—felt his presence coil through your home like something alive, like he was standing right behind you.
You know exactly what he would do.
“Don’t.” Your voice comes out sharper than you intend. You close your eyes, pressing your son closer, grounding yourself in his warmth. “Let’s not think about that right now.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“…Sorry,” Itadori murmurs. “I shouldn’t have.”
You open your eyes and start walking again, each step steady, deliberate.
Renee Nicole Good, 37, was murdered by ICE in broad daylight, in front of numerous witnesses that were recording it from multiple angles.
Trump and Homeland Security are now attempting to claim that she was a "deranged terrorist" that "ran over" ICE agents. The videos demonstrate that she was speaking to an agent through an open window, and was attempting to move her vehicle out of the way and leave when the agent standing BESIDE her vehicle shot her point-blank in the face.
ICE agents then refused to permit medical assistance for more than 10 minutes. One of the witnesses was a doctor, but was not permitted to render aid.
katsuki was at the gym with kirishima, since the latter had just moved into the city and missed "having bro time at the gym together, like we did at ua!" katsuki had scoffed when he heard this over the phone, but you encouraged him to go despite his insistence to sleep in with you. no matter how tough he pretended to be, you knew how much he loved his friends, especially kirishima.
they were warming up on neighbouring treadmills: kirishima rambling about some hero themed cafe he'd stumbled upon when exploring the city with mina, katsuki thinking about how cute your face must look right now, all soft and sleepy (it was the reason he'd wanted to stay in so badly, after all). that's when kirishima had asked the question.
"so, what about you? how's the wifey?" at his friend's mention of you, katsuki snapped out of his train of thoughts, smirking. despite having been married to you for just over half a year now, he didn't think he'd ever get tired of hearing you being referred to as his wife.
the nickname hit him second, "what?" he asked, now thrown off.
"your wife, katsuki, y/n. how is she?" kirishima clarified, "mina was wondering if we could do some double date kind of thing, but knowing her, she's probably set it up by now."
your husband's brow furrowed as he went uncharacteristically quiet, replying, "i know who my wife is, shitty hair, and she's doing good. she had some weird stomach bug a couple days ago, so she's been takin' it slow, resting, all that." he stopped himself before he went into more detail - he hated how chatty the mention of you made him, it made him feel like a hypocrite for pestering deku about his constant muttering.
the nickname stayed on his mind for the rest of his time at the gym, and on his way home, and as he entered your shared apartment.
"hey, kats, missed you," you said, still stuck between dreams and reality as you made your way over to the front door and burying your face in his chest, humming contentedly as katsuki's strong arms wrapped around you
it slipped out of his lips before he could stop it, "missed you too, wifey."
you giggled before pulling your body away from his to face him, and katsuki felt the tips of his ears burn as you asked, "what'd you just call me?"
he tried turning away so you wouldn't be able to see the look of embarrassment on his face, but there really was no hiding from you - you were the first to notice how the tips of his ears would turn red whenever he'd get shy or embarrassed. you were the first to notice anything beyond surface level about him. the first who bothered to dig deeper.
"'s nothing. stupid shitty hair called you that when we were at the gym 'n it couldn't leave my head."
"hey, its alright," you said, voice gentle as you cradled his face, your thumb rubbing circles into his jawline, "it just caught me off-guard, didn't think i'd ever hear something that silly come out of you."
after that day, it had turned into an inside joke between you. he'd call you wifey while tickling you to wake you up in the morning, or while competing against you in mario kart, or while throwing a handful of flour at you in the kitchen.
one time, he'd called you that after coming home from late-night patrol to find you crying into his pillow after a rough day. it was when you'd calmed down a little, no longer full-on sobbing, but still opting to play with his fingers as leftover tears occasionally streaked down your face. he'd said it then as a way to lighten the mood, to get you to crack a smile or maybe even laugh in that way only you did, the way that had him laughing right with you.
but you'd looked at him then with a look of pure, sticky sweet love, your eyes filling to the brim with tears all over again as you wrapped your arms around him and cried about how much you loved your sweet husband so much.
after that night, wifey was no longer a funny little nickname
an this one is written for all my fellow crybabies and SPECIFICALLY my crybabies who cry when people are so very nice to them <3 if only kirishima knew what he'd started...
Imagine being Bakugo’s twin sister and when you’re children, Izuku has a crush on you. One day, after interpreting marriage in the innocent way a 5 year old would, he asks Katsuki when he can marry you.
Katsuki, being a protective older brother, thinks about this and realises Izuku is Quirkless, and says Izuku can ask you to marry him if Izuku ever becomes the Number One Hero. It’s meant to be interpreted as never.
When Izuku actually attends UA and is All Might’s successor, Katsuki panics like hell. Even though he’s only maybe eleven minutes older than you, you’re still his baby sister, and he is not letting you marry anyone, because no one is good enough for his sister.
Even when Izuku does become a hero eight years later, even though Izuku doesn’t have you as his main reason to be the best and he and Katsuki are close, Katsuki is still absolutely clawing up the ranks to Number One because no one can be allowed to marry his baby sister.
And within the first two minutes of the latest hero rankings being announced, and Izuku being in shock he’s Number One, his phone goes off with a message from Katsuki.
