#curse!reader

[varangsbabygirl]

Can you do a cursed child from JJK and how they came into creation? Please 🙏🏼 😗

Hehe, this is part 1, I will be doing a part 2 soon!!

You were a curse born from hatred and sadness. You were a child curse, you had formed in an orphanage known for abusing children, the orphanage had long since been abandoned, but sometimes people would report hearing a crying child (fnaf meantioned) coming from the building.

Satoru and Suguru had been the ones sent on the mission. All they knew? It was a curse born of sadness. When the two teenage boys arrived, they first thing they noticed was the energy. It was pure sadness. It was unlike they had ever felt before.

"Woah. I feel like crying. Just me?" Satoru asked, looking down the long hallway. Suguru hummed, his hands shoved in the pockets of his pants. All of a sudden, a wail came from down the hall behind them, causing the two boys to turn around. Sitting on the floor was a crying child.

You had your knees pulled up to your chest, your arms around them as you wailed. "Hey there!" Your cries stopped as you looked up. A boy with white and glasses over his eyes was standing over you. He had the brightest aura you had ever seen. Most people had dull auras.

Satoru tilted his head. You looked like a normal child. You didn't seem deformed like most curse spirits were. Satoru crouched down to your sitting form, his lanky arms dangling over his knees. "Man, you sure are cute for a curse." Satoru reached out and pinched your cheek.

Behind him, suguru snorted. "Don't get attached, Satoru. We have a job, remember." Satoru, being the man child he was, pouted. Pulling his hand back from the curse child. "Just look at it, suguru! Isn't it so cute, I just want to gobble it up." All of a sudden, you slapped your hand onto the floor. "I'm not an it! I'm a girl!"

Both teens seemed surprised at your outburst. They didn't know you could talk, let alone clearly. But it wasn't really that. It was the large wave of cursed energy that came from you. It was suguru who caught it first. A black aura hanging from your back.

Satoru saw it next, but he saw it clearly. You used to be a normal human child, but a cursed spirit had clung onto your body. Like a parasite, it clung to you and made you its host. At first, you seemed like the cursed spirit, but those who looked closer would see the truth.

[kashimopilled]

Ino x curse!reader ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა 18+, minors dni p1 | p2 cw: use of Japanese, angst, injured!reader, docile!reader, power imbalances, descriptions of various injuries, reader has a limp, needle, blood, incorrect/fictional medical concepts, medical examination, invasion of privacy, mention of OCD, anxiety and sh, humiliation, flawed!Gojo, body horror, talks of exorcising reader, crying note: this concept is similar to Yuji x sick!senpai and I imagine the two readers having the same condition but it presents slightly differently and is much more progressed in this fic. Please read with caution.

Ino’s face is mushed together on one side as he rests it on the pillow, lips puffed out into a little pout, and his big, brown eyes are fixed on your bare legs.

Pale skin with bruises that will never heal. One of your knees is angled unnaturally but covered up by a DIY joint protector, which is just a cut-up and resewn sock.

The sheets fold this way and that way as you squirm around on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position. You’re focused on homework, and Ino should be too. But all Ino can think about is your presence and the time.

Saturday, 14:56.

Soon, it will be time for your visit at Ieri’s, and he fucking hates that. It’s never a normal health check. The principal is there, and sometimes other faculty members, and they poke and prod at you to “keep you in check,” as Gojo once so sensibly put it. Ino is dumb but not that dumb. He knows it’s just an assessment of your state to decide if you need to be exorcised.

You’ve passed the examination 16 times now. That’s something. Proof that you’re a nice curse. But still, Ino finds it humiliating.

And you just let it happen, like it doesn’t matter at all. Not only that, you agree with everything those old geezers say. It’s all voluntary on your part.

That’s fine, Ino tries to convince himself, it’s your choice. You’re the one who turned into a curse. You know better.

“Takuma…?”

Your classmate tears his gaze from your knees to your face. There you are, looking at him with raised eyebrows but an otherwise neutral expression.

You haven’t changed much in terms of personality since it happened. Even before, you were a calm and resigned girl. It was like you knew it would happen and accepted it. Or even waited for it.

“I…” Ino trails off. He can’t remember you speaking, but obviously you must have been, and he just got lost in thought. “Did you say something? Sorry.”

“Yeah, no. You’ve just been staring. A lot.”

You got him there. Ino gets like that on Saturday afternoons. To him, each time is a mini-goodbye, so he memorizes everything, though you’ve shown each time that you’re a very nice curse who doesn’t need to be exorcised. A part of Ino is getting used to it, while the other part is terrified. So, he floats in a weird space of nothingness and uncertainty. He gives you a sheepish smile and forces himself to look down at his own homework. Organic chemistry. Yuck.

“Sumimasen,” Ino mumbles. Then, another glance at his phone.

Saturday, 14:58.

Once his phone goes blank, your reflection appears on the black screen. You’re still just immersed in your books, but the subtle chewing of your lower lip gives it away. You’re nervous too, though not as nervous as Ino.

That heart-sinking knock on the door could come now at any moment.

Ino’s frown deepens.

“Don’t pity me.” Figures.

“I don’t,” Ino replies quickly. He always has some excuse up his sleeve and quickly points to the equations he wrote down. “This is just really stressful.”

You glance at his opened workbook and, with an amused groan, you pull yourself closer to Ino, dragging your injured leg behind you like a stray cat.

“If you’d just learn the functional groups…”

“There are so many,” Ino retorts and sinks his face further into the sheets, his messy hair spilling all over the pale grey fabric. The diagram of the groups, indeed a lot of them, takes up a whole page, in a mocking way. Like the authors know they’re spelling it all out for Ino, and he still can’t get it through his head. Fine, the first three make sense. One, two, three bonds. The one with the alcohol is easy too, just because of the name. The rest?

“Yeah, but there’s a system, and if you get that—“

Two powerful knocks interrupt, and Ino immediately perks up while repressing the urge to grab you by the waist and pull you back.

“Coming in, so you two better not be making out.”

Of course. It can only be Gojo-sensei. Neither of you grace his little comment with a reply. That teacher has a special talent for making each interaction as awkward as possible. Although, ever since you’re different, you don’t really seem to care that much anymore.

The door slides open a second later, and Satoru Gojo leans against the frame like he owns the building. It would be fair to assume he does. Tall, relaxed, blindfold in place, hands tucked into his pockets. His gaze, somehow still very clearly directed at you despite the blindfold, sweeps across the room once.

“Ino.”

“Sensei.”

Then Gojo tilts his head toward you. “And our star of the afternoon. Thought I’d find you here.”

With a little huff, you push yourself up and climb down from the bed. Your feet barely touch the ground, keeping you floating so your injured leg doesn’t have to carry more weight.

Ino doesn’t bother asking to come with you because you always tell him not to. He gets that. It’s a tense experience, and you probably don’t want even more witnesses.

“Jaa ne,” you mumble and wave.

“Jaa, mata.”

Gojo walks ahead of you, leading you down the hallway. He can sense one of the first years wanting to exit their room in that moment, but they stop when you appear in their line of sight.

“Heh, senpai!” Thank god it’s the more sensible one. Big, wide eyes, a horrible bowl cut, and braces.

You slow down to greet them but don’t actually stop, to the younger sorcerer’s disappointment.

“Be good, Kirara,” you drawl, ruffling their hair as you pass them by, but your voice isn’t quite lively. They don’t know where you’re going or why, and it’s best to keep it that way.

Inside the infirmary, there is the usual little audience, though not every single faculty member is present, just those required and those with strong opinions, in favor and against… well, letting you exist.

Ieri, whose presence is obviously essential to lead the examination. Yaga, who is always involved due to his position as the principal. More against an exorcism, but he rarely lets that show. Kusakabe, who is very vocal about being in favor of an exorcism. He likes to take safe routes if he can. Ijichi, who probably does not want you to be exorcised but doesn’t voice his opinion because he has to be objective for his job. He’s just there for administrative stuff and usually never even looks up from his binders.

And Gojo, who makes you feel like he absolutely does not give a shit whether you live or die, who seems to be amused by your predicament and fascinated by your rare condition, who has you prove your humanity to him through very invasive and kind of humiliating questions, truly making you feel like a curse. Gojo, who secretly has to rely on Ieri for extra reverse cursed energy because his own can’t keep up with all the ulcers wanting to form in his stomach from worrying and hating himself so much.

He slumps down on one of the chairs, hips tilted forward, legs spread, his upper body leaning back. Practically the image of someone waiting to enjoy a good movie at the cinema.

What goes on internally, well, that’s a different story. But no one needs to know that.

You’ve stopped floating the moment you stepped into the room and opted to limp on your leg, though everyone knows you only do that to make a less curse-like impression. That, coupled with your lifeless obedience, gives you a kind of lamb-to-the-slaughter vibe. Gojo hates it.

Don’t look so fucking resigned.

You let Ieri do her thing, she removes your eye patch, then positions you to her liking, commenting occasionally on any change or the lack thereof. Your shirt is removed, she pokes at your ribs and sternum, and you just let it happen like you’re a ragdoll.

People could consider your docile nature manipulation, like you’re just trying to seem like a good curse, but a witty little response from you every now and then proves you’re not quite okay with how things are and want to resist.

And then come the questions. Not as bad as Gojo’s private ones but still.

“Do you have any violent or homicidal urges?” Ieri asks, not mincing her words in the slightest. She lets your shirt fall back into place and moves on to your legs, nudging your knees apart.

“No,” you mumble with a flat tone, eyes averted to the sterile white floor. Your legs dangle from the table, and you suppress a small wince as the transformed socks are removed from your injured knee.

“Any cannibalistic urges?”

“It’s not cannibalism if I’m not human anymore.”

Gojo snickers, but he’s probably the only one in the room who appreciates that little jab. The stretchy fabric of Ieri’s glove makes contact with your forehead when she flicks it.

“No,” you correct yourself, “No cannibalistic urges.”

“Still in your soup phase?”

“I guess.”

Yeah, you’ve been weirdly fixated on soup the past week. Kusakabe’s lollipop cracks a little in his mouth, he probably wants this thing to keep going without any personal questions slowing the process. In a way, he’s right. The faster it’s done, the better.

“How do you feel about Sukuna?”

Right. That guy. The higher-ups’ big concern, though he’s supposed to be dormant now. There are some parallels between you and him. It would be a mistake to act like you don’t care or think about him, a very obvious lie.

“Don’t see the point in his approach to things,” you reply. You don’t say you don’t agree with what he represents because, in all honesty, you’re humble enough to know you don’t understand him. So you can’t agree nor disagree. You just don’t understand the resentment. Who cares if he hates humans because of mistreatment? It doesn’t matter.

“I’m not angry,” you add. You’ve said that so many times, and Gojo can see how much it annoys you when someone can’t accept that. Mostly the higher-ups, who would have it way easier if you were angry and vengeful; it would give them an excuse to get rid of you.

Two fingers are pressed into the soft tissue around your knee and rotate the joint slightly. There’s a faint, wet clicking sound that shouldn’t exist in a normal human body.

“Pain?”

“Three.”

Ieri hums, then carefully wraps your purple socks back around. She can have respect for a student’s ingenuity, so she doesn’t offer actual bandages. It’s a small way to give you authority.

Then your fingers catch her eye. She inhales, too sharply, knowing exactly that she can’t hide that in front of so many people. Had Gojo told her about it beforehand, she would’ve been able to breeze past it in a way that doesn’t raise questions, but her reaction was too noticeable.

Multiple chairs are already creaking to lean in closer and see what she found.

Wordlessly, she lifts your hands a little, exposing the red, irritated fingertips and the nails that most definitely have blood under them.

A small breath leaves Gojo’s lips.

Goddamnit.

“Explain this?”

“Scratched at my desk.”

“Why?”

“Dunno.”

Stupid girl, this isn’t the time to be tight-lipped. For a few moments, no one speaks, like they’re all waiting for Ieri to come up with an excuse that will put their minds at ease. Kusakabe could easily use this as a “got you” moment, but he doesn’t.

“…it could be OCD. Anxiety. Self-harm. Talk to us.” Her voice has become a little softer now, the closest thing you’ll get to her pleading. You should just give them something, and she’ll talk your way out of it.

“Yeah,” you shrug, “Guess I was nervous. We have a test tomorrow, in Japanese. I was studying and…”

“Right.” Ieri glances back to the other faculty members in the room, checking to see their reaction.

“Have you done it before?” Gojo suddenly asks. That’s rare. He usually never interrupts with anything productive. You pull your hands back to fidget with the hem of your t-shirt.

“Uh…haven’t scratched before, but I sometimes do other stuff… like nail biting.”

Gojo hates how much you’re shrinking into yourself as you talk. Partially his own fault for being so… him. Luckily, your explanation is enough to make Yaga wave his hand dismissively, allowing Ieri to continue. Though he crosses his arms with discomfort and glances at Kusakabe. The other rubs his neck with frustration. The image of a little curse girl scratching at wood until her fingers bleed isn’t encouraging.

“Well, we’ll have to find an alternative. You know you can’t regenerate yet, and my magic doesn’t work for you,” Ieri chides and gently pushes you to lie back.

The most uncomfortable part, physically, is the thing with the eye. Purple blood fills your anterior chamber, obstructing your view partially. It is drained during each examination, but your body works differently now, and it just keeps refilling.

The sight of the needle coming closer and closer to your eye is one that makes you want to thrash around and scramble away, but you want to be a good curse for everyone. You don’t want to cause trouble, much less to be exorcised, so you lie still as Ieri leans over you and everyone else watches like it’s a sick public experiment.

“Good job, don’t move now,” Ieri tells you after inserting the little device.

As if you’d dare. Your muscles tense. You have to keep your eye open even though every instinct is telling you to push Ieri away and run. Your chest rises and falls unevenly as you’re forced to wait until the procedure is finished.

The whole examination is a pain on its own, but this, the being a cornered animal under powerful sorcerers’ scrutiny, feels especially scary. Your fingers fist the hem of your shirt now. Blinking is not allowed. The drying up of your eyes burns.

“Thoughts on Ino?”

…What? …Ino?

One of those questions. Right when there’s a needle in your eye, when you’re helpless and can’t move without potentially blinding yourself, when you’re the most vulnerable.

It must be on purpose.

“H-huh?”

“Thoughts on Ino?”

The fact that Gojo is bringing Ino into this feels like betrayal, though Gojo has made it known he isn’t necessarily on your side. You were doing well. You thought you were.

“Thoughts? I—“ You cut yourself off with a little gasp. What are you even supposed to say? What’s even relevant here? More importantly, what is the meaning of it? Ino shouldn’t have anything to do with this. He’s supposed to be a safe space, a safe topic. The needle is removed from your eye in the meantime, the vision in your right eye returns, and you think you can let out a breath of relief, when Gojo raises his hand.

Ieri stops. She furrows her brows, scowls with confusion and something akin to brief denial, but obliges, keeping the sharp thing right above your eye. Huh?

“Sensei—“ you gasp again in panic. The scene has become more hostile, like a sort of interrogation.

“It’s okay, just answer the question,” the doctor above you tells you. This is a lot of pressure and new territory, with not a lot of time to think about what makes a good impression and what doesn’t.

“Okay, okay, just—“ you swallow back a lump, trying to collect yourself. Your voice wavers. You know you’re going to cry, but you keep going. “Ino is nice. He’s nice and, and, he can’t remember functional groups, but—“

You pause to sniffle a little. You can’t even look around for an escape route because of the damn needle threatening to sink back into your eye. So, you just stare up at Ieri with blurring vision. Everyone has become an enemy in the matter of a few seconds.

“But,” you continue somehow, “I like that because then he asks me for help, and I like helping him, and it gives me an excuse to—“

“That’s enough, Gojo, you’ve made your point,” Yaga speaks up suddenly.

Point? What point? It doesn’t matter because the moment the needle retreats, you curl up into yourself, sobbing ungracefully.

“You pass.”

You rub your eyes, then slowly sit up with a hunch, then hop down onto the floor with way too much force, and there’s a sharp ache in your knee for a moment.

Gojo watches your knees buckle, still leaning back lazily. Ijichi immediately tries to offer his arm for support, but you decline by shaking your head and limp out of the room, mumbling the polite version of a goodbye.

You hope to god you won’t run into little Kirara like that. Or Ino. Not Ino. Do they want you to stay away from him? Was that the point? He’s so genuine and nice, and you’re all rotten. Maybe they think you’ll do something bad to him.

The best thing now would be hiding in the library. No student ever enters that place. But if you don’t immediately go back to Ino’s room, he’ll start to worry. Inhaling deeply, you start limping back through the hallways, still sniffling but desperately trying to stop.

Long after you’re gone, when it’s just Gojo and Ieri in the room, the atmosphere drops the act.

It’s quiet for a long time. Ieri sits back on the exam table. Gojo can tell she’s itching to reach for a cigarette.

“Well. Did you have fun? Did you get it out of your system?” she asks with the usual hint of lazy detachment, though the phrasing suggests a little scolding.

Gojo’s head tips back, he groans, a long and bored sound.

“You get it, right?”

Ieri hums in response. Her eyes glaze over the now-empty chairs, then she glances at the door, where you had left the room.

“I get it. But you’re a little paranoid to think that was necessary. Wasn’t that a little dramatic? Besides, Nanami won’t appreciate you dragging his student into this.”

Gojo puffs out his cheeks and blows out some air between his pursed lips, almost like blowing raspberries. “Hah? That guy has no right to complain. He’s the one always saying he’s not even a teacher.”

Ieri shrugs, dismissing the thought. She crosses her legs, her high heels peel off her heels a little as she moves her ankle around in the air.

“Satoru.”

Gojo straightens his back, then looks at the little yellow bin on one of the desks, where all used and sharp things are disposed of. It’s where that needle was thrown into.

“I think this little stunt earned her at least another month of peace. And maybe less frequent evaluations. I mean… jeez, it was just a schoolgirl crying over some boy. That’s what we want.”

“What about you?”

Gojo pouts in a childish, petulant way, like a child. He mumbles something along the lines of “this isn’t about me,” while averting his gaze.

“It must hurt. You’re always the bad guy, while all you do is save everyone.”

There’s a pause. Gojo is not in the mood to be vulnerable.

“You know, Satoru, sometimes I wonder how far you’d go to prove her humanity.”

“I wonder that too.”

“Not very reassuring.”

૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱აall rights reserved. no translations, plagiarism, modifications, reposts, or ai feeding. disturbing comments will be deleted. english is not my native language.

[wito-chan-bla-bla]

A curse named (Y/N)-chan

People... such funny creatures! When you "get to know" little Satoru Gojo, you decide to raise him and enjoy his little baby cheeks. Well, maybe it's also by chance to cultivate in him the desire to "adopt" curses and simultaneously make him fall in love with himself. Oh, I forgot to tell you. You're a curse

~

When I was writing this, I went crazy, so I used several tenses at the same time, so the story may look a little wavy. Also, initially the reader was a woman, but then I decided that gender is not important, so if there is a mention of "she", it is... It's just a mistake that I didn't see! (Glasses don't help me).

~

–Aren't you tired of it, Sukuna-kun?

–First of all, if you call me that again, trifle, I'll rip out your tongue. Secondly, do you really have nothing to do that you prefer to desecrate my throne, lying on its back like a flea–ridden cat?

–Firstly, – you mimic him, – you tell me this for the umpteenth time. And don't forget that I can always grow myself a new tongue or even two to annoy you even more. Secondly, I just came to talk. Don't you want to chat with an old friend?

–Since when are we friends?

–And since when not, Sukuna-kun? – you poke him on the cheek a couple of times. The curse irritably tries to bite off your finger with its summoned mouth.  – Hey, don't forget that your status as the 'king of curses' doesn't make me a small bug compared to you! Maybe I'm even stronger than you!

–What else will your little brain come up with?

You sigh and jump off the throne, ending up on the marble floor. Looking around the temple, built specifically for your "colleague". Your tail hits the floor a couple of times, and small cracks appear on it. Sukuna sighs, looking at you from his seat.

–I knew that it was necessary to chop off the hands of the master who made this floor.

–As if you wouldn't have killed him in the end anyway.

–Can you leave now and leave me? I wasn't looking for your company and I'm not going to look for it. 

–I was just planning to leave. I'll just tell you something, – you look around the temple with four eyes without pupils before you start talking. – I've heard about a newly formed clan of sorcerers. The Gojo clan, if you're interested. They are said to be quite powerful.

–Thank you, (Y/N), I'll go and kill them as soon as you leave here.

–Thank you for listening, – you sigh, shaking your head. – So what am I talking about?.. Oh, right. You're a dictator, Sukuna-kun. History is cyclical, and therefore sooner or later your reign will end. I just want to ask you not to date anyone from Gojo, especially if the sorcerer has strange eyes and the attacks won't hurt him. You will be able to recognize the members of the Gojo clan by their white hair. They often have blue eyes, as far as I've heard.

–Anything else, Mom?

–M-m, yes, definitely. If you do die, then let's meet in a few centuries so that I can laugh at you!

–Yes, yes… Will you leave now?

–Of course! By the way, – you shouted almost at the door, turning to face the curse, – I'll be back in a couple of days to sleep in your garden!

–You're like a little flea cat! Die somewhere already!

–I love you too, Sukuna-kun, – you giggle, waving goodbye to him before leaving.

The curse exhales with relief and throws his head back, hoping that you will not come in a couple of days or a week.

And you really don't come to his abode. Because Sukuna was expelled by a sorcerer from the Gojo clan, and his temple was destroyed to the ground.

*+*

Curses. Terrible and scary. You were one of them, standing on a par with the king of curses many years ago. Funny, isn't it?

You were born from the negative emotions of two sides: slaves and their masters. The former could no longer tolerate the abuse of themselves, the latter hated the fact that the "animals" they bought were so unproductive, weak and disgusting.

Negative emotions have been gathering together for generations. And so you were born. Or maybe not quite you? There are too many riddles of your birth for you to want to solve them. You only knew that ordinary people saw you. You had enough of their pathetic faces, fear and crying to be satisfied. The rest is not so important. 

 You were a small and cute curse, similar to a human, but at the same time very different from him. You were uselessly near Sukuna, taking him out and chatting useless things. A couple of times the curse wanted to kill you, but it could never win. (Well, or just didn't want to).

You were on different sides of the coin. Sometimes slaughtering entire cities, forcing people to drown in their own blood, sometimes helping slaves, thanks to whose hatred you were born. The "King of Curses" used to say that you must have human blood in you for people to see you, but you always shrugged your shoulders, saying that you had never seen your parents, if there were any at all.

After Sukuna was already "destroyed" in the form of a curse, you decided to hide from the world, not wanting to die the same way. Sometimes you staged little genocides, meeting sorcerers and just smiling at them, sitting on piles of dead bodies before disappearing again for months. But in the end you got bored with it all.

Death, death, and death again. Who would like that? You have seen too many ruined destinies to be pleased with another dead man. Therefore, for the first half of your life without Sukuna, you hid from the world, presenting yourself to everyone as just a human sage, hiding your true appearance with the help of techniques. The second half you came out into the light, showing yourself to people and beginning to understand their way of life and worldly life. Sometimes you even got a job to understand what it's like... to be a person. 

Soon it turned out that people needed at least a first and last name. There were no big problems with this, you took advantage of those that a small child had, who was the first person who was not afraid of you.

Then the human child would hand you a flower, smiling awkwardly and swallowing.

–Curse-sama, please don't kill my family.

The whole situation was so funny that you decided to ask the baby's name. (Y/N) (Y/S). You started calling yourself that, and soon people started using the same pseudonym, forgetting about the "creepy creature with a tail and four eyes." (Not that the human name (Y/N) somehow helped to change the attitude towards you).

You barely stuck your head out, sometimes killing curses if they interfered with your "fun with people". But one day everything was going to change.

You heard from a couple in a cafe where you were resting after a long journey from another country that the Gojo clan had an heir with two abilities of his clan. Once this big family killed Sukuna, and you wanted to look at the little boy who has already been called the most powerful sorcerer of the generation.

You carried within you pleas for freedom and thoughts of enslaving people. Your basic abilities didn't work on curses, but they were perfectly used on people.

Your powers were somewhat similar to the Cursed Speech, but to activate your abilities, you had to perform much more actions. For example, you had to touch a person, look into his eyes, or make him hear your voice in order to "connect". Then to be able to say that it wasn't always possible, especially if you had been badly beaten before.

And the stronger your opponent was, the more you had to invest the damned energy, the more actions you had to perform at the same time.

You have met only one person in your life whom you were able to subdue only when you shouted in his ear, touched his skin and looked straight into his eyes, spending a huge amount of cursed energy on each order. And this person still reminds you of himself with a scar on his back.

Three things that connected you with people: needs, external fragility and the ability for people to see you. You were more of a curse than a real person, even if you could look like the last one.

And yet here you are, walking down the corridor with your hands in your pockets, ordering the servants not to notice you, instead of just killing them all. One of the Gojo people's employees was stopped so that you could find out which way the heir of the clan is.

And here he is, sleeping in a crib, surrounded by hired sorcerers. You quickly make them fall asleep by walking up to the wooden furniture and looking at the little boy snoring in his sleep.

As soon as you approach, the child opens his eyes, and incredibly beautiful blue eyes look at you. I want to tear them out and take them away forever as a trophy, but instead you reach out to gently poke the boy in the nose. Little Gojo laughs, reaching out to catch your finger with his palm.

Ah, children, children… You used your weapons on them as well. You could so easily kill this "chosen one" now, wreaking havoc among the sorcerers. But... how could you kill such a cutie?

You chuckle as you continue to play with a child who has finally woken up from sleep. Shifting your weight onto a crib that could support several adult men, you gently stroke the boy's cheeks.

–You're so funny and innocent. I wonder if you will cry if I show you my true form?

A second later, a man no longer ordinary in appearance rises above the crib. It's you, a creepy curse with sharp claws, a tail and four completely white eyes glowing in the dark. The skin looks painful, and the fangs in the mouth are sharp and frightening.

But instead of screaming and crying, the boy only laughs harder, trying to put your claw in his mouth. You stop him by assuming a more human form again. And still the pad of your finger bites with a mouth without teeth.

–You know, the news that a child of the Gojo clan was killed by an unknown curse would surely shock the world, – you bend over and let the boy pull your hair. – But the news that will make everyone even more worried is that... – you chuckle, smiling slightly, – that the most powerful sorcerer was raised by a curse.

*+*

You've been working with children for twenty years. It was... a fun experience. Your hatred of little people was mixed with love, and now you treated children neutrally.

But when it came to Satoru, you returned to the fact that you hate and love children at the same time. 

–(Y/N)-cha-an!

–What happened, Satoru-sama? – you ask indifferently, continuing to peel the apple.

–When will all this end?

–Do you mean the whole day as a whole or just your lesson?

–I mean studying, – the boy with blue eyes the color of magic clear water looks at you, dropping his head on the writing table. – I'm tired of listening to the elders saying that my task is to learn all the techniques of the clan as soon as possible. I'm tired of hearing that I have to be a worthy member of my clan, and it's worth working for. I'm tired of reading these dusty scrolls!

You silently watch the whining of the child. He's right about something. From the moment little Satoru learned to read and write, he was constantly forced to study or fight. The little boy looked so innocent, rushing to you after a long workout to get a loving hug. The next minute, he was already being picked up for the next class.

Children should enjoy life and have fun. Satoru was forced to learn and fight. His character does not help to lead such a lifestyle.

–Would you like an apple, Satoru-sama? – you ask, serving a plate with sliced slices.

–They're sour again, aren't they? – Gojo grabs a piece and looks at it for a while. You snort and shake your head negatively. Then the child puts an apple in his mouth, cuts it with his teeth and immediately sticks out his tongue. – (Y/N)-chan, you lied to me!

– I'm sorry, but I have no right to eat the food of the owners.

– Shouldn't you try the dishes in front of me so that I don't get poisoned in case of something?!

– This apple is definitely sweet, – you quickly and deftly translate the topic.

– I don't trust you anymore!

–Then I'll eat it myself. A-a-a!.. – you open your mouth, bringing the fruit closer to you. Satoru sulks, eventually snatching food from you and taking a big bite. Pink flowers appear around him, proving that you did not lie to the boy.

You sigh, shaking your head. You allow yourself to put your cheek on your palm, and your elbow on the table where you are sitting. You are watching a happy Gojo who does not notice the juice flowing down his hands.

The elders and parents of Satoru forced the boy to eat only healthy food. And you agreed with them, but would a few sweets be so bad? Little Gojo almost died in class from lack of strength, constantly lying on tables and trying to sleep during lectures. (Although you were sure that it wasn't a lack of energy, but you understood the boy perfectly, so you continued to believe that it was all because of the lack of sweets in the diet).

You grab a towel, leaning towards the child, starting to wipe the juice tracks. Satoru blinks a couple of times and then gets distracted from eating the fruit, allowing you to take care of it.

You lean closer to Gojo, as if you want to tell some secret, and the boy involuntarily gives in closer.

–If you pass the exam successfully at the end of this stage of training, I promise that I will bake you cookies.

–Cookies? – the boy's eyes light up, and you can't stop admiring the small spring lakes that Satoru's eyes are so similar to.

–Yes, cookies. Lots and lots of sweet cookies.

Gojo looks around for his teacher, who has left on clan business. The boy thinks for a second, and then actively nods. You hold out your hand, and the little wizard shakes it. Smiling, you bend down even more to kiss Satoru on the top of his head.

The boy smiles happily, but then sighs, nibbles the apple and gives you the core. When the teacher returns, he is very surprised, because the heir of the Gojo clan obediently performs the task, and does not try to fall asleep or run away with you, his personal servant, hired by recommendation two months after the birth of little Satoru.

*+*

You laugh when the boy pulls you by the yukata, showing his grades for the test. From the outside, it seems as if you are his parent, and not his personal servant-nanny. And you really do your duty by bending down to pat the boy on the head, tell him that he did a good job, and then take him to the kitchen as soon as night falls.

The room is quiet, only Satoru hums some melodies that don't even exist in reality. The boy complains that he still has to wait until the cookies are baked. You say he can go to bed, but the sorcerer refuses, jumping up from his chair and hugging your leg.

–Thought you could escape from me, (Y/N)-chan? No! I'm going to sit here until I get my cookies!

You nod, stroking the boy's head with a clean hand so far. The dough is almost ready, and soon the cookies will be in the oven.

The oven starts to light up with a soft yellow light, allowing you to look at the food inside. Satoru stares at the sweets for a while, as if watching TV, until eventually he climbs onto your lap, comfortably settling into your arms. You take a book of fairy tales out of yukata's pocket and start reading aloud.

The elders say that such stories will not help prepare the heir of the clan for real life. You silently nod to them, pretending that you respect and accept the opinion of mortals. And all the same, you end up reading Satoru stories about princes and princesses, dragons, knights and true love at night.

As always, the boy falls asleep quickly, but you have to finish the story, because he is ready to wake up at any moment as soon as you stop talking. But then the words "the end of the story" are heard, and Satoru falls into a deeper sleep.

You rock the little sorcerer in your arms, looking at the cookies. When the sweets are ready, you gently wake up the child. The kid is unhappy, but when he smells sweet, he immediately forgets about any anger.

Satoru sits on the floor and eats cookies, washing it down with milk. His cheeks are so round and cute that you can't resist yourself and stroke his baby skin. Gojo opens his eyes, previously closed in ecstasy, and looks at you. Swallowing food, he snuggles closer to your hand, like a little puppy.

You gently run your hand over his head a couple of times before getting up and starting to clean up.

You carry Satoru back to his room in your arms. The boy fell asleep almost immediately after you raised him at his request-by order. You quietly inform an elder who has passed by that the heir of the clan has fallen asleep while studying.

When you tried to leave to get some sleep, Gojo refused to let you go, waking up and clutching your yukata with his hand. You had to stay with him, hugging him like a mother should hug. That night everyone slept peacefully.

*+*

–(Y/N)-chan, (Y/N)-chan, did you see that? That was cool, right? Say it, say it!

You giggle as you watch the boy jump around waiting, wanting to know your answer. You raise your hands and clap your hands several times, showering Satoru with praise. Gojo lights up like a little star, while behind him a sorcerer of a special rank is trying to recover, because part of the Satoru technique touched him and destroyed a little hair on his bangs.

–Will I get anything for being so smart and quick-witted? – he asks quietly, pulling your yukata a couple of times.

You pretend to be thinking. In fact, you bought him sweets a long time ago, but still teasing a small child is so funny and fun that you can't stop doing it every time.

–M-m, I don't even know. Have you done well enough, Satoru-sama?

–I can demolish another half of the forest, if that's what you want!  The boy exclaims, turning to the already destroyed territory and putting his hands together, ignoring the still shocked sorcerer on the way.

–No, no, no, I'm already convinced of everything! – you shout, picking him up in your arms and starting to spin him around. – You definitely deserve a reward, Satoru-sama.

–Then can we go eat right now?! – the boy asks, raising his hands and starting to kick in your arms not on purpose. 

–I think it depends on your sensei. 

–Sense-ei, can I go eat? Or do I need to hit something else?! – Gojo shouts, getting comfortable in your arms and starting to hug you with one hand. 

–Y-you can go, G-Gojo-sama, – the magician whispers, looking around the territory and his ruined hairstyle in shock.

Satoru shouts joyfully and tells you to carry him straight to the estate. You shake your head and roll your eyes, lowering the boy to the ground. He wants to start complaining, but then you crouch down, pointing at your back. The child immediately understands what is required of him, and finds himself sitting first on your back, and then on your shoulders. 

Satoru hugs your head with one hand, the other he lifts up. The boy shouts joyfully as you run towards the estate, holding his legs. An expensive kimono develops in the wind.

He eats his snacks with pleasure, drinking tea at your quiet order. Little Gojo is absolutely happy and ready to continue his training. Just stay with him and keep spoiling him. Just keep giving him what he doesn't have and is unlikely to have: love.

*+*

–I know you're a sorcerer.

You shudder, looking at the boy who pulls your sleeve. The books you carry in your hands almost fall to the floor. 

 –What are you talking about, Satoru-sama?

–I noticed a long time ago that you have a cursed energy. When I asked my dad about it, he replied that you are just a person. Why are you hiding your status? If you are a sorcerer, then why do you work as a servant?

You hum nervously, not expecting to be discovered. But in the end it had to happen. A little boy has Six Eyes. He sees everything. (More precisely, almost everything).

You try to avoid this conversation, but Satoru follows you around, attracting the attention of servants and clan members. You bend over and promise to tell him everything later, but for now let him go to class. You will join him as soon as you take the book to his room.

Gojo is unhappy, but obeys. He leaves, taking one last look at you. Too adult a look for a small child.

In the evening, you lie to Satoru that you are just tired of being a sorcerer and decided to devote yourself to growing a new generation. And since you didn't have any children of your own, you decided to take care of little Gojo.

The boy seems to be satisfied with your answer. He is glad that now all your attention belongs to him. The child stretches out his arms to hug you around the neck, and you obediently bend down to make it more comfortable for him. 

What would you be doing now if you still decided to kill this child or leave him alive, but without becoming his personal servant? Oh, what's the difference? You exist here and now, ready to entertain the boy and take care of him.

Even if he banishes you in the future. Because you're more of a monster, damn it, than a real person.

*+*

– I want to fight with you, – "Eh?.." – Fight! You said you know some techniques. Let's fight!

You try to refuse, but you are already being dragged towards the forest that has just begun to be covered with grass again. (More precisely, to what is left of the forest). Gojo bounces with every step, and you feel your back starting to hurt. And here you are standing in the middle of a small quarry created by Satoru. The boy stretches, and then gets into a fighting stance. You sigh and summon the spear to start this battle.

You don't plan on putting a lot of effort into fighting Gojo the same way you fight curses when they dare to get at you or the people you "play" with. In addition, you have more experience and cursed energy, so you don't plan to die from Satoru strikes.

The battle consists mainly of you attacking and not being able to break through the barrier. The boy laughs and uses his techniques, which you easily dodge. Sometimes you forget that you don't have a tail in this form, and you almost fall, unable to catch on to anything. But in the end, you still manage to avoid the attack.

At some point, the excitement consumes you, and you use the technique, sending a huge charge of cursed energy from the spear. Satoru, of course, was not injured. Satoru, of course, is delighted. He asks you about a technique that can do the same damage as his clan abilities.

You are silent, looking at the destruction. They can be attributed to the work of a small Gojo. But how do you explain to the head of the clan the sudden appearance of your cursed energy?

You do not comment on Satoru's delight by suggesting that he return home. And his father is waiting for you at home. A man interrogates you about a sudden surge of energy. He asks you why you didn't tell him that the sorcerer, what does such a strong man do in the place of a servant and most importantly… what are you planning to do with Satoru.

You sit with your head down, silent. The head of the clan abruptly gets up from his seat and comes to you, ready to interrogate and find out what you are planning to do with his son.

When he is next to you, you raise your head, grab the man by the bare ankle, visible from under a long kimono, and quietly whisper: "I order!" The man freezes, ready to listen to your order. You exhale with relief, looking around. There's no one around.

You tell the head of the clan never to remember that you own the cursed energy again. You tell him to assume that he called you here to praise you for your work. As soon as there is a click of fingers, the technique is completed, and the man flaps his eyes in surprise, looking around.

Noticing you sitting on your knees in front of him, the sorcerer swallows and moves away a few steps. He says you did a great job and then sends you away. In the evening, you watch Satoru reading some scroll, almost falling asleep. You reach out to touch his neck, but change your mind at the last moment. You bend down and ask Gojo not to tell anyone about your strength. The boy immediately gets a little excited and promises to keep your secret.

Let's see if we can really rely on you.

But, as time has shown, it is quite possible. Because no one will know about your secret for a long time.

*+*

–Where are we going?  Satoru asks, looking down at his clothes. It's the first time he's wearing anything other than kimono, and he's surprised by a simple T-shirt and pants, as well as sneakers. The boy is too used to traditional sandals.

–Your parents have gone to a meeting of the three clans with the elders, and this is our chance to walk around the city.

–Are we going to eat? – the blue eyes shone.

–Of course, Satoru-sama.

The boy happily jumps on the spot a couple of times while you giggle. You double-check the bag several times to make sure you don't forget anything. Having forced Gojo to put on a hoodie, you hide his white hair under the hood, then take his hand and lead him away from the clan territory.

The city is visible nearby. You are humming, looking around the lonely paths. Satoru had gone outside the clan's territory before, went down to the city, but then he did it as the heir of Gojo. In addition, the little sorcerer was not really allowed to see anything, because he usually immediately got into the car and left "to visit" other families of sorcerers.

Satoru jumps next to you, clutching your hand tightly. He is not afraid to get lost, he is not afraid to get into danger. He just doesn't want you to ever leave him. Soon you are walking with him through the semi-deserted streets. It's late now, any other day you would have sent Gojo to bed immediately, but this time you made an exception. (Besides, the boy looks quite cheerful, so no problem).

A 24-hour restaurant with ramen greets bored people. You lead Satoru to the farthest table, telling him not to remove the hood from his head yet. Putting Gojo closer to the wall, you hand him the menu, looking through your own bored.

You have tasted many dishes in your long life. You almost didn't feel the taste, unless the food was insanely spicy or sweet. Your meals were always alone, and you began to perceive food consumption as a necessity, and not something exciting and fun, as it could be if you were an ordinary person born in an ordinary family.

Satoru still did not listen to you and pulled off the hood. But now everyone was trying not to fall asleep on the tables, so everyone didn't care about the strange boy. Gojo was constantly tugging at your hand, asking about this or that ingredient or name. You answered quietly, giggling at how innocent and ignorant the boy really was.

Satoru could be at least a hundred times the son of the head of the clan and the future most powerful sorcerer, he still knew so little about the real world so far… You watched Gojo, who was already breaking the third sticks, unable to properly divide them into two parts. You handed him yours with a sigh, feeling sorry for the poor waiter, who was almost asleep on the move. Satoru asked what you would eat, so you just took the two longest wooden cores and started eating.

An ordinary person would die trying your spicy ramen. You just mumbled happily, feeling yourself warming up from the inside. Satoru wanted to steal some from you, but you silently pushed his plate towards him.

Gojo pouted, but his offense didn't last long. A few minutes later, he was already slurping noodles, not caring about the manners and discontented looks of the elders, which can be ignored, but they are still annoying.

You had to wipe Satoru's cheeks several times because he was actually born in the year of the pig! The boy smiled innocently at you, shoving a piece of meat into his mouth with a satisfied grin. Not knowing what to do: giggle or sigh – you just smiled in response, glad that the little child was able to take a little break from the pressure of the clan.

After a warm and hearty dinner, Gojo almost fell asleep on your lap. You casually mentioned sweets in a local store, and the boy immediately opened his eyes, jumped up and pulled your sleeve, bouncing vigorously. You smiled for the umpteenth time today, crouched down to hide his hair with a hood, and dragged the sorcerer towards the convenience store.

Gojo wanted to take all the sweets he could reach. After a lot of bidding, you agreed to five different pieces.

You still had to carry Satoru back in your arms because he was exhausted. You were humming a song that you listened to a hundred years ago, walking along lonely streets.

Suddenly you stopped, turning and looking with disgust at the figure frozen in the alley.

–Well? You wanted to rob me, didn't you? Then come out, you worthless coward.

The robber awkwardly fell out of the shadows, pointing a gun at you. You rolled your eyes as you lowered the shopping bag. It was the outskirts of the city, too quiet area. You looked at the weapon in the man's hands. He has a silencer.

You are slowly moving towards the robber, the face begins to slowly transform, human features are more and more fading into the background. Smiling at a man with a crazy smile, you speak a language that never existed, but still terrifies a person.

Satoru smiles in his sleep, snuggling closer to you. You move close to the frozen man, grabbing the gun and squeezing it with a light movement. Useless metal falls on the asphalt.

–Do you still want to attack us, little mortal? I could use your guts to warm my cold insides.

The man runs away before you have time to come up with enough creepy threats. After showing him your tongue at last, you return your "human face" and go for the package, and then carry the sweet bun-sorcerer and candy back to the clan.

*+*

–Satoru-sama, you... you! ..

–M?

–How can you even live like this?! – you take napkins out of the bag and bend down to wipe the boy's face. – I have not seen a single person who manages to get his forehead dirty while eating ice cream! Okay cheeks, okay nose, but ... forehead?!

–But the ice cream was really delicious!

–Sometimes I really want to quit ... – you whisper to nowhere, and the boy immediately hugs you, anxiously squeezing your body with his hands.

–I'm not letting you go anywhere! Don't even think about getting rid of me, (Y/N)-chan! 

You sigh and pat Gojo on the head. Suddenly you freeze, slowly lowering your gaze to your clothes, now stained with ice cream because of the sorcerer's face.

–S-Satoru-sama-a ... – you hiss angrily, and the boy immediately runs away from you. You just get even more napkins. When it comes to the Gojo heir, anyone needs a lot of napkins. (As strange as it may sound).

Rarely have you been able to walk with Satoru not late at night or even at night. His parents and mentors watched the boy like hawks. You had to put a lot of effort so that no one would know that Gojo was watching strange cheap movies with you at night instead of sleeping. 

As soon as you wiped your clothes, you immediately started running after the little rascal, who began to show you his tongue. His face is clean thanks to the sacrifice in the form of your sweater. You clenched your teeth, trying to contain your anger, and ran after Satoru, who jumped up and started running away, shouting with laughter that you wouldn't catch him. 

You chase him all over the park, as an older sister or mother might do. Satoru is growing fast, his physical skills are already higher than that of an ordinary child, and you might not catch him if you didn't have so much cursed blood in you. Gojo is fast and small, it easily climbs where you can't. 

The longer you run, the further you go into a huge park. 

Suddenly you stop, feeling cursed. Turning your head, you want to use your abilities to destroy the nasty creature, but Satoru does it earlier, and you become even more dissatisfied.

–I bet I'll destroy more curses this day than you? – the boy asks with a laugh

–Then if I win, then you won't eat sweets for a week!

–Eh?! T-then... then if I win, you'll bake me a cake every day!

–I agree! – you shake his hand. (The Sorcerer does not need to know that you simply will not give him any more sweets, except cakes).

As a result, you split up with him and start looking for curses. Fortunately, there is an abandoned building nearby, which used to be a school. You sneak in with the boy before you start looking for curses without any unnecessary actions. It's quite difficult to do this without a veil, but your inner flair has never failed, and Satoru has Six Eyes.

You already want to destroy the little curse, when suddenly the wind blows from behind, and you are forced to summon a spear to block the attack of an adult sorcerer. You don't know where it came from, why it attacks you. Perhaps he realized that you are a curse. But in any case, you are not going to give up.

The walls are covered with cracks from the ongoing battle, you are desperately trying to figure out whether it is worth killing this sorcerer. And if he is the son of some important family, and they try to kill you for his death?

But everything is solved quite simply. Satoru appears in front of you, and the weapon filled with cursed energy hovers in the air before falling to the floor. Gojo looks blankly at the sorcerer, and he shudders. The boy takes a few steps forward with his hands in his pockets. He is silent, the man does not move from his place for a few more seconds before he begins to retreat.

–Why did you want to kill my nanny? – Gojo asks coldly, he barely hides his anger. The man is silent, and then Satoru is next to him for a second before hitting the sorcerer in the face. – Answer me, weakling!

You watch with a calm face as an obviously professional sorcerer is beaten. The man wants to answer, but the young heir of the Gojo clan is strong. At this moment, you allow yourself a grin of pure-blooded curse and say loudly: "I order! Stop."

Both sorcerers freeze, and you pass between people unable to move. You stroke Satoru's head, and the boy immediately relaxes, realizing that this is not an enemy technique. Now he looks at you with shining eyes, but soon everything turns into darkness when you say: "I order! Forget this battle and go to sleep."

You catch Gojo on your hands, another sorcerer hits the floor with his forehead. By placing Satoru neatly on the nearest surviving bench, you force the man to wake up and interrogate him before erasing his memory and throwing him out the window.

Then you wake up Satoru and tell him that he was under the influence of the curse and fell asleep, so you won. The boy is sulking, but you take his face in your palms and kiss his cheek. The boy immediately smiles and says that he wants to go home to listen to a fairy tale from you. You nod and pick him up before carrying him away from school.

That sorcerer will never understand how he woke up in the courtyard of a forgotten school, and most importantly what he was doing there. If he wakes up at all, of course…

*+*

You knew why you were here. All because of Satoru's whining. He pulled you for yukata, saying that he would not go on a mission without you. As a result, his sensei was brazenly forgotten, and you were sent alone with the boy.

Not that you complained, because you could defeat any curse, but still... for the rest, you were an ordinary person, unless you only knew about curses and maybe saw them! Why were you forced to go on a mission where you can die?! (Although maybe they actually tried to get rid of you. But now it is not so important).

You were walking with Gojo through an abandoned building. A boy with a big smile on his lips chatted, destroying curses without even looking at his enemies. He cares more about your safety, constantly turning around at your figure.

You calmly stared at the terrible-looking walls until suddenly you felt a powerful cursed energy that was hiding pretty well. The power of the curse involuntarily resonated with yours, so you were able to understand that a special rank is wandering around here... more precisely, this special rank is approaching you and Gojo. 

–Satoru–sama, – you said with a friendly smile, – last time you fell asleep when you were killing curses. How about the same deal, but to win you have to destroy all the curses in half an hour? If you fail, then you won't eat sweets for two weeks! If you win, I will bake cakes for two weeks.

–I won't lose this time! – the sorcerer exclaimed a little arrogantly, giving you a "high five" and then running away to start destroying the curses.

You waved to him and shouted that you would be waiting for the boy near the entrance. As soon as he goes far enough away, you turn with disgust to the wall from which the curse comes out. 

–Appear before me already, you nonentity, – you hissed, and the curse with a questioning squeak came out to you completely. – What are you watching? Did you think I'd say I'm glad to see you and we'd go kill the boy together? You think too highly of yourself to think that I would want to have something in common with you!

You summoned a spear and attacked a curse that dodges. The eyes looked at you with a question for a few seconds, and then filled with rage. A powerful stream of cursed energy, concentrated and amplified with the help of your weapon, hits only a small part of the curse, because it again moves away from the attack. Fast. If I didn't have time limits, I would do everything so that he wouldn't underestimate me and my skills. But now we need to act a little faster... although this curse still pisses me off!

You make a dissatisfied click and put away your weapon before folding your hands in a special gesture.

The space around him was transformed instantly, the curse was almost instantly captured by chains that tightly squeezed his body, not allowing him to get out of the grip. You wanted to attack the attacker, but suddenly slowly lowered the spear until you finally withdrew it for that day.

–You know, I usually used this space to capture a person, and then touch his skin, make him hear me, look into the eyes of the captured... or just kill him. These chains won't let you go, but at the same time they won't destroy you so easily. But you know what? – You grinned and sat down on the floor created by your technique. – we still have twenty-five minutes of time. You don't feel pain, but the chains are filled with cursed energy. How about playing a game? – you raise your hand and snap your fingers. "I'm going to add more and more damned energy every minute, and the chains will squeeze your body more and more. Let's find out how long you can hold out against my technique!

You laughed like a madman, watching as more and more chains encircle the curse. 

–Make yourself comfortable, – you said with a laugh, watching how the curse is starting to look more and more like a sausage tied with a rope with every second. – I'm only yours for these twenty–five minutes. Well... – you snap your fingers again, filling the chains with even more damned energy, – time has gone!

After a while.

–You're late! – Gojo pointed an accusatory finger at you. – And you're nine minutes late!

–Sorry, sorry, Satoru-sama. I was just looking at the school grounds too much. But I found a gift for you!

–If it's not a cake, then I don't care.

–It's not a cake, it's a finger! – you opened your palm, showing the cursed object. The sorcerer winces and sticks out his tongue in disgust.

–Ugh, what is this?!

–This is a curse finger named Sukuna, who is called the "king of curses".

–Hey, there can only be one king here! And that's me!

–I know, I know, but Sukuna-kun lives longer, so respect his old gray head.

–«Sukuna-kun»? Why do you use "-kun", (Y/N)-chan in relation to the curse?

Damn, I let it slip! You smile nervously and shake your head.

–For make fun of him, of course! – you're telling the truth. – But that's not the most important thing. I need to take this finger to the elders.

–Why?! Let's keep it for ourselves!

–And why? Do you want to eat it?

–And what will happen then?

–Well, you will either die or become a vessel for Sukuna-kun.

–Cool, I'll be even stronger!

–I'm sorry, but I can't stand two annoying idiots in one body.

–Eh? What did you say about me, (Y/N)-chan?! – Satoru jumps next to you, shaking the sleeve of your yukata.

–Nothing, nothing at all, Satoru-sama! – you say in the most innocent voice, laughing at the boy.

–No, I heard you say I'm an idiot!

–Oh? How so? I definitely couldn't say that!

–I demand two cakes a day for insulting my personality!

–Usually at such moments people say they will fire their servants…

–But you are not my servant, – Gojo stops and looks at you with his innocent childish eyes. – You're my nanny! – what's the difference?! – And I don't want you to go anywhere!

The boy hugs your leg, and you gently stroke his hair.

Satoru still kept the finger for himself. Well, you don't mind. Maybe, in this scenario, you will see your friend earlier?..

*+*

Gojo has been hanging on to you for a while now, practically sobbing. His body, which had become incredibly tall, almost completely blocked the sunlight from you. Satoru's father watched with displeasure, but at the same time he was glad that everything would end soon.

–Don't leave me, (Y/N)-cha-a-an! – Gojo stretched out for the umpteenth time, hugging you harder. (If it was possible at all). – Why do you have to go somewhere?!

–Because you are already fifteen, Satoru-sama, – you explained with an empty face, mentally crying too. – I can't be your babysitter at that age.

–Then be my personal servant, – Gojo straightened up to his full height, took your hands in his and looked into your eyes. Do you know that this can actually be regarded as a demotion?!  – And then you'll have to come with me!

–I'm sorry, Satoru-sama, but I'm pretty bad at cleaning, – you sighed, raising your hand and stroking his white hair. – I'm not disappearing from this world. We'll still see each other.

–Really? – blue eyes lit up with a new stunning shade. – Then stay in the dorm with me!

–I say I can't! ..

you sighed when the sorcerer once again squeezed you like a teddy bear. The years fly by pretty fast. You didn't even notice how Satoru reached the age of fifteen and started whining about wanting to go to school in Tokyo. All this time you've been around, enjoying killing curses that dared to get too close to "your human". Of course, you still let Gojo dominate strong curses, just sometimes made sure that a sorcerer not yet fully trained would not die.

These years of your life have been filled with shopping trips, persuading Satoru not to buy every souvenir he sees on his way, making sweets and hugging Gojo, who is tired of this life. Every year the sorcerer became more and more affectionate with you, needing love and support, which he did not receive from his ever-pressing clan.

When Satoru wanted to go to school in Tokyo, you realized that you could no longer watch Gojo transform from a cheerful fool into a man with a murderous look in a second. (And all just because some man roughly pushed you towards the road when he tried to pass by). 

If for so many years of working in the clan you were able to do everything so that they wouldn't find out about you, but at the same time sorcerers appeared every few months who wanted to kill you for some reason, then what happens if you find yourself on the territory of a school filled with completely different sorcerers? You should have been lying low at least for a while. (Even if they tried to kill you just because you're Satoru Gojo's babysitter).

Satoru would have continued to hang on to you and cry if you hadn't patted his head and kissed him on the cheek. Gojo froze along with all the people who saw him off. The undergrowth's cheeks turned red, he stared at your eternally young face. You gave him a kind smile before only ruining his hair more with your hand.

–How about we meet and chat after the first week of your studies? – you asked, slowly starting to move forward. Gojo began to slowly move backwards, continuing to enjoy stroking his head. – I can bake a cake for you.

–What kind of cake?! He can't have so many sweets! – it was heard from somewhere on the part of the elders, but you ignored them.

–We could chat over a cup of tea and discuss your classmates.

Satoru nodded, enjoying the view of your face, located so close and at the same time so far away. Suddenly, he crashed into something. It was a car whose door was open. You gently pushed the sorcerer forward, forcing him to fall on the seat. Bending down once more, you cupped his cheeks with your hands and brought your face closer to his…

Gojo thought you would kiss him on the lips. He even closed his eyes, hoping to enjoy these moments to the fullest. But you just smacked the sorcerer on the nose before walking away and waving with a small smile.

An agitated and blushing Satoru was cut off from you by a closed door. You waved to the teenager for a while until the car disappeared towards the airport. Turning to the head of the clan, you bowed and asked:

–Am I fired?

–Undoubtedly.

*+*

You visited the school in Tokyo once every few months, making sure to come with a cake for Satoru classmates. Gojo always ran to you with joyful shouts, opening his arms and almost jumping on you, which is why the dessert often almost fell out of your hands. But you didn't scold the sorcerer, you just hugged him by the neck and pressed him to you.

When Suguru and Shoko found out that you are not Satoru's partner, but his former nanny, they had a lot of questions. But you said that asking the age of old people like you is indecent, quickly distracting teenagers with a chocolate cake. (The truth was that you are so old that you don't even remember how old you are). 

You preferred to get out of school with Satoru and attend festivals or watch movies. Gojo behaved strangely, stuttered and hugged you more often, but you thought he was just going through some kind of teenage stage, and didn't say anything.

Sometimes the sorcerer himself called you, asking you to come. This happened after long and difficult missions. Sometimes it is difficult even for an adult to cope with such a load, let alone a teenager who has been under pressure from his own family since childhood. But you were always there, often even in his bed, hugging the sorcerer who seemed small at such moments.

One day he came to you completely broken. You didn't ask anything, just pulled him onto your lap and hugged him, rocking him in your arms, as you once rocked a little boy who was unable to sleep just like that. Satoru sobbed softly into your shoulder, but you kept silent and stroked his back up and down. Since then, you have not come to school anymore... for many years.

On that day, Satoru, who turned twenty-eight, told you that he wanted you to go with him. You shrugged your shoulders and started moving towards the airport to fly to him from another city. Soon you were standing in front of the familiar school gates in Tokyo, waiting to be greeted.

–(Y/N)-cha-an! – Gojo shouted happily, appearing unexpectedly from behind and hugging you. He lifted you into the air, making you kick your legs ridiculously before putting you down and hugging you even harder.

–Hi, Satoru-kun, – you muttered softly, a little scared of the sorcerer who suddenly appeared. You got too used to his cursed energy and didn't even perceive him as a possible enemy. – So, what did you want to show me there?

– My students! This year they are absolutely amazing!

–You say that every year, – you giggle and let yourself be dragged up the stairs. – So, who is it this time? A child without cursed energy who wants to become a sorcerer? A big panda? The user of the cursed speech? A child enjoying a huge curse?

–I never guessed it!.. Unless the latter is the closest to the truth. Hey, look, they're ahead. My dear children, I brought "mom" to you!

You looked at Satoru questioningly, but the sorcerer was already lifting you into the air like a little lion cub to show to his "children". Your gaze hovered on one particular person who smiled the brightest of the three.

A mouth suddenly appeared on the young sorcerer's cheek, and you hurried to get out of Gojo's grip.

–Look who I see!..

Before Sukuna could say anything, you slapped the teenager on the cheek so that he almost left a dent in the stone floor as soon as his flight ended.

–W-what was that?! – the young sorcerer shouted, and you giggled awkwardly.

– I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I just don't like the King of curses too much.

–What a nice brazen lie to my face, – Sukuna's voice was heard again, and you pursed your lips irritably. – And you won't even tell me how glad you are to see me, you flea-ridden cat? I thought you'd at least greet your "friend". Or have you finally realized that these insignificant relationships will lead to nothing? – the curse looked at the frozen Satoru. – Although, judging by the blond man's face, you still continued to communicate with pathetic people. Hmm, your standards have always been low.

With an empty face, you snapped your fingers and spoke through your teeth, touching Gojo's cheek with one hand: "I order you! Frozen!"

The sorcerers froze, and Sukuna laughed. You walked up to his vessel and grabbed his cheeks with your thumb and forefinger, turning the teenager's head to look into the red eye of the curse.

–I see you want to die before you can completely subdue this body, don't you? – you asked, hissing. 

–You know, I knew that all your brains fit in a teaspoon, but I didn't think that they would dry up so much over the centuries. The local sorcerers would rather kill you for making four of their relatives freeze in place.

–I may not have four eyes right now, but I can see that there is no one around. So don't worry about me, Sukuna-kun.

Blue eyes burned you from behind. You didn't pay attention to the silent order-the request to turn around from Gojo. You continued talking to the king of curses.

–I didn't think to worry about you. The sooner you die, flea cat, the better. And I'll even be able to finally help it!

Sukuna laughed, but you squeezed the teenager's cheeks harder and leaned closer to the red eye, so the curse involuntarily fell silent, interested.

–You know perfectly well that my technique doesn't work on curses, don't you, Sukuna-kun? But you forget that you are now in a human body. So I can control your nasty tongue.

–And what will you do when your "spell" is broken? Or are you not capable of thinking at least one step ahead?

–Oh, I'll just come here more often. I'm sure you'll be happy to see me!

–I doubt it very much.

–But I'm not! – you turn abruptly and approach Gojo before lifting his blindfold and looking straight into his blue eyes. The sky–colored "saucers" best convey the emotions of Satoru.  – What? Yes, I am a curse. So what? But I can bake cakes!

You touch his cheek with your fingers, look straight into his eyes and calmly say: "I order you! Forget about what happened after I ordered you to freeze, and a minute before that."

When everyone comes to their senses, you begin to look closer at Yuji, look into his eyes and touch his cheeks. While everyone is distracted by conversations, you say: "I order! Make Sukuna-kun not talk about my life like a curse."

Control. Eternal control. But you can't keep control forever. That's why sooner or later they had to find out about you.

That day Satoru called Sukuna. The sorcerer who wants to go on a mission froze, turning his head to the curse.

–I would just like to ask you to give one last "hello" to a flea-ridden cat. I think she'll be whining in hell if she doesn't say goodbye to me.

–I didn't know that our "great king of curses" loves small animals so much. Maybe I should pet this cat for you again?

–Tc, you're as dumb as they are, – the curse rolls his eye. – Okay, I'll say it more clearly, blond. Say hello to your beloved babysitter before you cut off their head.

–Why would I kill (Y/N)-chan? – Satoru asks with interest. Meanwhile, Yuji hits his mouth with his palm.

– Sorry, sensei, he always talks nonsense when it comes to (Y/S)-san.

–If you can't digest the information, brat, that doesn't mean I'm talking nonsense, – the curse looked at the elder sorcerer again. – You didn't think that your "darling" (Y/N) could be an ordinary person with all the power they hide, did you? Come on, say "I knew something was wrong with them", don't disappoint me... although you don't have to try, you've already done it anyway.

– So you're saying that (Y/N)-chan is a curse? –  Gojo asks slowly, trying to digest the information and not kill Sukuna in the same second.

–Yes.

–But people see them! Haven't you thought about that?

–They have some human blood in them. They are a disgusting example of the situation when a child could appear from a person and a curse.

–Do they by any chance look like a creature with pale skin the color of a swamp, four white eyes, a tail and sharp claws? –  Gojo asks casually, feeling his heart pounding rapidly in his chest.

–Wow, you were able to remember the description that these old people gave you! I'm just starting to be proud of you. 

Satoru abruptly rushes to the side with the words: "I have to find her before the others." Yuji questioningly accompanies his teacher, touching the cheek, on which you hit several times with great force, with the palm of his hand.

*+*

You ran and felt your heart beating fast. (Heart? Did you ever have it at all?) After turning the next corner, you hid in a dark alley before starting to use a masking technique. No one will think of looking for a curse among people, because you will soon look just like them…

Suddenly there was a wall in front of you, and you turned around to see the sorcerer standing in front of you. Swearing, you canceled the technique, because everything was useless. A familiar man has already seen your lower half, clawed legs and tail, so it's useless to try to pretend to be a fool.

–Sato-oru-ku-un! What a meeting!..

–Why have you been so attached to me all these years?

"A?" You blink a couple of times, trying to come to your senses. Gojo's voice is filled with cold and ice. You involuntarily cringe. When was the last time you saw him like this? Have you ever seen him like this?.. 

–You are a curse and a "friend" of Sukuna. Why didn't you just kill me then?

You try to smile like a madman, like a murderer, you want to intimidate Gojo so that he doesn't regret when he kills you, but you can't cope with your emotions. Curses feel something, too. Even your friend has become attached to the person. Here you are too.

–Why not? – you answer in the end it's windy. – I wanted to see the heir of the Gojo clan. I took a look and decided to stay close to see what would happen to you. Or did you not like my parenting techniques?

You carefully follow his every move. You wait for him to take off the blindfold, and you will have a chance. Most likely, the barrier between you and him has long been built.

–And you didn't even want to kill me? Not once?

–I must admit, I thought about it, but... you were such a sweet child that I couldn't raise my hand against you.

You are trapped. You can never hurt Satoru Gojo. And not even because of their abilities. You just won't be able to see the pain in those blue eyes.

– You're going to use your submission technique, aren't you?

–What are you talking about?

–I heard you talking to Sukuna once. He was laughing at you because you can't completely control Yuji-kun's body, because there is a curse in it. I must admit, I'm surprised that you stopped feeling my damn energy so quickly.

–I'm just used to you hanging out with me most of the time.

Satoru takes a few steps towards you with his hands in his pockets. You take a step back and suddenly notice earplugs in his ears. Growling, you begin to climb the wall with your claws, but an unknown force presses you to the floor.

–These earplugs are filled with cursed energy that should protect my ears. But the plugs themselves are so cheap that I can hear you perfectly.

Satoru sits down next to you and carefully examines your pathetic attempts to get out of his technique.

–I wonder if the elders will let me 'adopt' another curse?

–God loves the Trinity, doesn't he?

–And where does this come from in you at all?

–A hundred years ago I worked part-time in a Christian church…

Gojo giggles while you hiss, trying to resist.

Gojo. You have met them in one way or another throughout your life. First they destroyed your friend, then one of the sorcerers from this clan left a huge scar on your back. And now the other one is going to kill you or send you under the careful supervision of the elders, who will find a way to get rid of you.

Satoru sighs and you look at his tired but beautiful face. The sorcerer always looked cute, and for some reason you were furious when the daughters of other clans and families of sorcerers tried to flirt with him. When Gojo turned eighteen, you understood the reason.

You have fallen in love with a mortal man. You fell in love like a simple person. But you have lived too long to openly show that Satoru is dear to you not just as a son.

You wanted to keep this relationship in your heart along with photos taken on camera and phone. Perhaps someday you will want to leave this world, and next to your heart there will be an image of a white-haired sorcerer.

Well, or this same white-haired sorcerer will kill you.

You continued to resist, when suddenly Satoru sighed.

–What? Forgot to pick up the cake from the bakery? – you asked, grunting from the pressure.

–No. I just booked a table at a restaurant, and if I don't show up there in half an hour, the reservation will be canceled. 

–W-why not deal with all this faster, then?

Gojo looks at you for a few seconds and then nods seriously.

–You're right. We're going on a date!

–W-what?! – you scream, and then suddenly faint.

When you open your eyes, you find yourself tied to a chair in the Gojo Estate.

–A good restaurant, – you say sarcastically, looking around the familiar walls.

–I knew you'd like it! – Satoru smiles, but then becomes serious. – But actually I was wrong, we only had five minutes, and you wouldn't have had time to wake up so quickly.

–So, what are you going to do with me?

–M-m, I offer a deal, – Gojo lifts the bandage slightly, and you prepare to scream, but close your mouth, knowing full well that you will not be able to subdue the sorcerer and escape in this way. – How about going on a date anyway? I have already told the elders that I have accepted another curse into our ranks, and now I want to completely annoy them.

–Y-you know that I'm at least thirty times older than you?

–Age is just a figure! – he exclaims in a childish voice before walking towards you.

–Okay... just untie me.

As soon as your hands are free, you are abruptly hugged. You notice that there is no earplugs in Satoru's ears, but he has pulled off his bandage. You could easily escape from him now, but...

–Even if you try to erase my memory, I will never forget you.

...but it's all useless. You have become attached to this person, he is "your human"… You put your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you. You will never be able to leave your "child". Even if you are a creepy curse that Sukuna plans to tease for the rest of the way in this world.

But you don't care. The main thing is that "your human" is completely safe and feels good, as if he has returned to childhood again, where there is only you, he and the chocolate cake you have prepared.

[varangsbabygirl]

Part 2 to my child curse fic, sorry I can't put a link to it. I don't know how, lol

"Just look at her! Isn't she so cute! How could you kill that face? " Satoru held you up by under your arms. Your cheek smooshed into his as he held you in front of his teacher, Masamichi Yaga. Said man stood in front of the two teenage boys, and the child curse.

You didn't seen to mind the white haired boy holding you, in fact, you seemed more interested in the blank faced boy standing next to him, he had a certain aura to him, one like yours, sad.

Yaga sighed, running a hand over his face. "Satoru, she's still a curse. Child or not. She's dangerous." Satoru, being the manchild he was, pouted his lips, hugging your smaller body to his. "I'll look after her. Scouts promise." Satoru jokingly raise two fingers, hiking you up onto his waist, your little sandle cover feet hanging over his hips. Yaga sighed, knowing the teen wasn't gonna take no for an answer. "Fine.."

You turned out to be an easy 'child'. Satoru could just stick his phone or an iPad in your hands, and it would entertain you for hours. Suguru, being the more responsible of the two, was the one to often take you outside to the park or out for ice cream.

But the curse that lived in your body was.. unique. Most, if not all, jujutsu sorcerers knew of Sukuna, but only a handful knew of kelim. Kelim was a power curse who was living hundreds of years before Sukuna. She, like Sukuna, caused damage and killed many, but unlike Sukuna, Kelim refused to kill children.

Kelim had fallen sick and sealed herself away hundreds of years ago deep in a cave in Japan, but a few years ago, a few scientists had unknowingly opened the cave and let her out. Her spirit had found little baby you. You who had been abandoned at the doors of an orphanage after your teen mother didn't want you anymore.

For the next few years, Kelim has lived in your body. She protected you and had later used your body to kill. She had killed the abusive workers in the orphanage.

Kelim wasn't out right evil, sure it was weird to hear a fully grown woman's voice come from a toddler sometimes, but the curse that inhabitants in you didn't try to kill Satoru or Suguru.

Taglist:

@superlegend216 @crazylady20 @lizzy91768 @pinkskeletonbones

Notes:

Hey guys. I'm sorry that the fics are slow atm. I haven't spoken about this yet, but I actually have bipolar disorder and have recently gone through a very long period time of just really bad depression.

[kashimopilled]

Ino x curse!reader ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა p4 | p3 cw: angst, toxic dynamics, self-destructive behavior, low self-worth/self-hatred, power imbalance, psychological distress, fear of authority figures, morally gray characters, loss of autonomy, mentioned exorcism of reader

Gojo sits in his office, hunched over the endless amount of files, reports, and other bureaucratic clutter spread out over his desk. He is supposed to be working on two things right now:

Thing one, more of a philosophical question than real paperwork, involves a past incident, a disgraced sorcerer, and his cult. It all depends on how much Gojo thinks he knows his best friend and if he thinks the little curse wandering Jujutsu High’s walls would be worth said best friend’s attention. Thing two, a pesky and tedious email exchange chain, potential meetings, and script-based research all coming together to drive Gojo to the edge of insanity.

He is not thinking about either of those things. Instead—

“Sensei… this is so heavy…”

“Mhm.”

“I think you’re supposed to paddle too.”

“Nah, this is good for your stamina. C’mon girl, put in the work.”

“The stream is coming from the side, we’re gonna— ah, sensei, we’re turning.”

“Don’t crash the boat, sweetheart, I believe in you.”

“Sensei…help, stop filming…this is so heavy…”

“Oh look, there’s Ino’s boat, he’s totally watching you struggle.”

“Aaaaah!”

“Heh, there we go, that’s more like it. Also, could you keep us in the shadow? I don’t want to be sunburnt, I haven’t applied sunscreen.”

“I want to switch boats. Nanami is helping Ino.”

“Denied. We’re shaking a lot, pay attention to how you stabilize and—“

The light of the screen shines onto Gojo, deepening the shadow of his jaw and nose. A deceptively neutral expression sits on his face as he rewatches old recordings from his gallery. It has become a habit of his to quench his nostalgic urges regularly.

That, or he’s just hurting himself emotionally to try chasing his guilt away.

A flat pill cracks between his teeth as he chews and sucks on it. Ieri gave it to him, to help alleviate those tummy aches. It’s the kind people usually take after being extremely hungover. Makes them puke less.

The voices in the video are sometimes overpowered by the gentle wind that was blowing over the steep river that day. It was a relatively fun activity. At least you were a bit less passive and more lively. And your relationship with Gojo was okay.

What you and him have right now is not okay. But Gojo isn’t even ready to face the fact yet that he wants his student back. He’s the Strongest, who gives all his kids tough love and stays pretty detached from their affairs, unless they are in direct danger.

The blindfold twists around his index finger as he fidgets with it, eyes still glued to the phone. There are no recent photos or videos of you, you’ve started avoiding Gojo, which is fair. He hasn’t been a pleasant presence lately. Leading the evaluations, coming up with invasive questions, making you prove yourself to the higher-ups, plus, his latest little stunt that had you scrambling away crying.

All because Satoru Gojo is desperate to keep his little curse alive.

He’s willing to take on the role of the villain if it means you don’t get exorcised. He’s okay with you hating him in exchange for your life.

Although you don’t even seem to hate Gojo. You’re just scared of him. He doesn’t know if that’s worse.

“Tch.”

Ieri’s question echoes in his head. How far would he go to prove you’re human?

Gojo’s gaze wanders back to the papers laid out in front of him, and he tosses his phone aside like it’s the device’s fault that he lost track of time. Right. Thing one and thing two.

Geto’s activity suggests he’s collecting curses. Not surprising, given his technique. Based on his ideals, your story could or would interest him. It proves his point, and he has a soft spot for broken things. They’re similar in that matter, it just shows differently.

The question is, how much of an effect his technique is capable of having on you, now that your cursed energy’s nature resembles that of a cursed spirit? No matter how much compassion Geto would have for you, you’d be more useful under his control. Unless he’s able to convince you to fight for his cause with all your heart. Gojo doesn’t think you’d choose the curse user life. So, in short, the threat is cursed spirit manipulation.

The blurry picture of Geto standing at that KFC reflects a streak of light, making it hard to make out anything in that curved, horizontal line. Gojo’s nostrils flare, the only sign that he’s still affected.

About the other thing now.

An appalling suggestion by a higher-up, one that Gojo refuses to consider. It’s hypocritical of him, since he’s contributed quite a bit to your dehumanization.

Sukuna’s cursed markings, or simple tattoos, are a result of an ancient Japanese practice. People found guilty of committing crimes were marked with symbols on different body parts, depending on the crime. However, in Gojo’s opinion, these markings would make no sense for you since you’re not guilty of anything.

Of course, there are more options. Cursed energy-infused ink of sealing symbols could tamper down your strength, making you harmless. Like the declawing of a tiger. Or a kitten, in Gojo’s eyes.

“Idiots…” Gojo mumbles to himself as he rereads each justification for the procedure. He reaches for one of the pages and crumples it in a loose fist. Just in that moment, someone knocks on his door. Gojo’s fingers stay relaxed around the folded paper as he glances up with a bored expression.

“Come in,” he speaks louder now, voice rough from the lump he has been keeping in his throat as he watched old footage. “If this is about the first year’s missing assignments, I may have—“

Gojo cuts himself off in surprise. He was expecting a scolding from Yaga, instead, the door opens to Nanami standing at the office’s entrance.

“Ah, look who it is.”

Nanami only scowls at Gojo’s immediate playfulness. He doesn’t seem to be in a good mood, then again, who is when they have to interact with Satoru Gojo.

The white-haired man has been on a high horse about Nanami’s withdrawal from your case too. He doesn’t bother standing up, no, he leans back in his seat, spreads his legs confidently, waiting for Nanami to take a seat.

Nanami doesn’t. He steps inside and leans against the wooden counter by the door. Doesn’t even speak at first. He loosens his tie before either of them even open their mouths.

“You look like shit, is the correct term, I believe.”

“…Nanamin… how vulgar of you.” Gojo was hoping to bait the other man into a little verbal spar, but Nanami doesn’t react. An uncomfortable silence settles, stressed by the awkward cracking of the pill between Gojo’s teeth.

Enough time passes like that, without either of them saying anything, that Gojo becomes just a bit nervous about what Nanami might want. It throws him off when he’s not the one creating tension. Nanami’s expressions are annoyingly neutral too.

“As much as I enjoy the romantic atmosphere of this staring contest, I’m sensing you have something unsettling to say. It makes me impatient,” Gojo declares, not bothering to swallow the medicine yet. He’s rude enough to speak with his mouth full.

Nanami’s gaze doesn’t soften until it lands on Gojo’s phone, like he can guess what the white-haired sorcerer was doing before he entered. Not to be mistaken for empathy for Gojo. Instantly, Nanami schools his expression into a stricter one.

With a quiet exhale, he approaches the desk positioned at the other end of the room and drops a stack of papers onto it unceremoniously. They’re neatly pinned together in the top right corner, however, the writing doesn’t match Nanami’s.

“Received this a few hours ago,” is all Nanami has to say, while Gojo flips through the pages. Not that reading the details is useful, the most important information is on the first page. Gojo is just buying time for himself to react.

Lead operative. Kusakabe Atsuya, Grade One sorcerer. Assigned Support. █████, Grade Two sorcerer* *Student assigned per request.

By now, everyone knows the redacted part is basically synonymous with your name. Just a funny administrative decision by the higher-ups, to keep you from getting a promotion. If your name doesn’t have the required amount of missions, you can’t be recommended for promotion. At least your official job title is still sorcerer.

Aside from the bureaucratic bullshit, the real issue is with that last line.

“Hah?”

Gojo’s voice comes out deep and offended, suddenly too loud in the previously quiet office. He’s not sure if he feels insulted by you, by Kusakabe who must have approved it, or by the situation in general.

“It seems she has a self-destructive streak,” Nanami states, looking at Gojo as if he was personally responsible for that.

Yeah, no shit, Gojo thinks to himself, but he’s so stunned, the words stay in his throat.

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Seeking out the one person who is openly in favor of your exorcism is…

“Fucked up. That’s fucked up.”

“Eloquently phrased, as ever,” Nanami mutters and finally slumps down in the diagonally angled chair at the corner of the desk. His posture is not as straight as it usually is. It’s surprising that for someone who doesn’t even accompany you to the evaluations, Nanami seems invested, if only a little. The dim light shining through the circular window catches on his glasses for a second, reflecting brightness.

“Take the mission over.”

Gojo’s eyes widen in surprise, not at the suggestion itself but at the fact that Nanami is actually asking that of him. Impartial my ass.

“I’m glad to know you think you have to ask,” he replies with a subtle smirk. Nice ego boost for Gojo, and it means his little facade of indifference is working. Nanami, and hopefully others, must believe he doesn’t care if you live or die, to some extent anyways. He crumples up his blindfold and throws it at Nanami’s face lazily. “Ah, yes, the Strongest will once again save the world.”

Leaning in, he tilts his head to fake a playful mood. “But what’s in it for me?”

Nanami’s eyelid twitches instantly. “Your student won’t harm herself emotionally. Is that not enough for you?”

“Ha!”

Gojo slaps his abdomen abruptly and barks out a laugh. His shoulders shake theatrically as his head tips back. “Who do you take me for, some kind of saint?”

The last words come out more biting than intended. Gojo does not appreciate any efforts to put him into a good light, as if he’s some movie hero.

It doesn’t sit well with Nanami, but he holds his tongue. It’s not like he’s much better, none of the Jujutsu High faculty members are good people. He just takes the elastic material that has fallen into his lap and places it back on the desk, folded into a square shape.

“Tch. What do you want then?”

…

“Take the third years.”

Nanami blinks, caught off guard by the blunt request. ‘Taking the third years’ can have several interpretations. Pf, take the third years, where? On a vacation? A mission? Take them as a class? Nanami hopes it’s not the latter.

“Gojo, what—“

“You heard me. Take them. They’re yours.” Gojo rubs his cheek with the heel of his palm, the first sign of exhaustion slipping through the cracks. He takes the neatly folded fabric and starts wrapping it back around his head like he’s putting up his walls again. He takes his time tucking each strand of soft hair out of the way. Getting that undercut was a really good decision, it makes tying the knot in the back much easier. “Ino already works almost exclusively with you and clearly, between you and Kusakabe, you’re the better choice.”

“What about you?”

That question is loaded, embedded with traces of your and Gojo’s relationship.

First year was the most fun. You didn’t quite understand when Gojo was making fun of something, you took his words and silly antics at face value. He thought that spoke of a phenomenal type of personality, truly, he was fascinated. Your teacher was excited to see you get stronger. He had high expectations. He thought what he was doing was finally worth it. Raising a good generation of sorcerers. Second year, that was when you started figuring out that maaaaybe Gojo doesn’t always know what he’s doing, his plans are sixty percent improvisation, and he has an unreliable side. You got so serious. Unbeknownst to Gojo, it wasn’t his fault. It was something else.

Then, summer. He still doesn’t know how to process that one summer.

Finally, the thing you are now. And somewhere along the way, Gojo became torn, taking more and more desperate measures to keep you safe. See: last weekend’s evaluation incident.

So, what Nanami is really asking is if Gojo really wants to throw all that away. The past and the potential of something special in the future.

What about Gojo?

“I’m not that selfish,” Gojo waves dismissively after not saying a word for half a minute straight. “I mean, c’mon, you’re way better at this kid stuff, which is frankly just weird, because I’m supposed to be good at everything and—“

Gojo deflects with a few more sentences, but he knows Nanami stopped listening the moment Gojo started subtly insulting him. During all of this rambling, the white-haired sorcerer doesn’t even notice how the sharp edges on Nanami’s face soften.

Nanami doesn’t interrupt. He just watches. Watches the way Gojo talks too much when something actually matters. Watches the way his posture stays loose while everything else about him tightens. Watches how easily he hands things off under the guise of logic.

He never thought it would ever happen, but for the first time in his life, Nanami pities Gojo.

“…Fine.”

The man has to force the word out of his throat. It leaves an uncomfortable claw mark against his tongue and scratches at his lips stubbornly. Gojo quiets down in his monologue. He leans a bit forward, his posture relaxes. It’s irritating how obviously a heavy weight was just lifted off his shoulders.

He’s that happy to spend less time with you. He only hurts you. Nanami is better for you. Gojo just has to take over that one mission from Kusakabe and you’ll be safe, as much as a curse living at Jujutsu High can be safe.

“Great,” the sorcerer clamps his hands together and glances down at the documents again. “I’ll get this change in plan approved, easy-peasy.”

How unfair it is that you end up seeking out a reminder of what hurts, the person who cares about you most is the villain in this sorry ballad. A cross Gojo is willing to bear, but God, what a stupid, what a sad little curse you’ve become to find comfort in pain.

Kusakabe reinforces every harmful view you have of yourself, and your teacher can already imagine you getting high on the self-hatred he’ll fuel in you.

“Will you ever talk to her?” Nanami interrupts the spiral.

Gojo grimaces. He busies himself by starting to pack his things together. Now he has Thing Three to add to his collection of worries.

“About what?” Now, he’s just playing dumb.

“You know what.”

“Ah,” the white-haired man waves lazily. “I’m not her mother.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Gojo clicks his tongue and rolls a shoulder. The documents are all locked away under his desk. God knows what kind of top-secret stuff hides in the drawer of the Strongest. “You know what, I don’t think I like it when you’re funny,” he muses.

As the two men enter another verbal catfight (foreplay, as Gojo calls it), you have your own little spar inside your head, on the other side of campus.

It’s a mental gymnastics struggle. As soon as you spoke the words I might fall in love with myself, something strange happened in your chest.

A dull pressure bloomed there, it spread into your arms, down to your fingertips, and suddenly, you became very aware of Ino’s presence.

You’ve long learned what it feels like when his hair tickles your skin, how his hands travel to your wrist to hold you, and you’re familiar with the pattern of vibrations that spread in his chest when he laughs.

You’ve known all of that.

But now, your brain suddenly has a magnifying glass, and the smallest details poke at your eyes.

The hair that tickles your skin smells a lot like your favorite pillow. The hands that touch you are calling to you to mold your body into his. The laughter, it fades into sounds you want to explore more.

“I’m joking,” you had said before everything in your brain shut down. Damage control before your brain checks out. Your posture remains limp, but your eyes, they’re wide awake behind a curtain of messy hair.

Weird. It makes you forget about everything else.

“You’re not a lost cause,” Ino tells you. Normally, you reject what he says because of what he’s actually saying. Now, it is something very different that’s closing your ears, all reason falling out of the window.

You don’t dare move, you don’t dare speak. Blood vessels dilate in your cheeks, sending rushes of heat over your skin, while the cold bathroom air around you fades.

Now you’re happy about not telling Ino about your plans, which involve Kusakabe and a middle-rank mission. Ino would want to go with you, but you definitely need time away from him to sort this out.

Besides, he’d be against the idea anyway.

It’s okay, you can’t expect others to understand it. Kusakabe is honest, and both you and him agree on one thing: you’re a worthless curse.

Not a lost cause, yeah, right. Ino means well, but he’s way too optimistic. Still, it feels nice to pretend a little.

You lean against him and hope that he’ll take you back to your dorm, without questioning why your pulse is suddenly racing.

૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱აall rights reserved. no translations, plagiarism, modifications, reposts, or ai feeding. disturbing comments will be deleted. english is not my native language.

[kashimopilled]

ahh I loved part 3 to the curse story!! If u want to write more I would love to read it <3

(referenced ino fanfic here) hii!! i will most likely write more, i’m glad you like it!

i hope no one can relate to the reader tho :/ but if they can, then i hope some parts of the story will give them comfort. <3