You don’t know when it started, you forgot the day you lost him. He’s still alive, but he is not like he was before. Life with him, as you know it changed when his memories started to chip away slowly until the image of you started to blur. Noritoshi, who has lost his memories and only clings to the blurry visions of you left in his mind. He speaks of you every day, living out his remaining time searching for you and telling stories about you as if you came from a beautiful dream. He did not just lose his memories but also a part of himself. He speaks to you like you’re familiar, but keeps his distance so as not to be disloyal to the ‘person’ he’s looking for. Your touch, the way you look at him and speak to him, is just as he knew. He memorises the feel of your palm from the countless times you hold hands with him, imprinting every line of your fingerprint on his rough palm. That tone and the twitch of your eyes as you laugh are all too familiar. You’re right there, but he kept looking the other way.
But his touch never changed. He still holds you like you’re made of porcelain. His tone never rose, scared it would scare you away. To him, you’re a kind person who looks after him; to you, he’s your whole life. Watching him turn into a stranger again was no easy task. It reminded you of the first day you met him, the ever-serious and nervous guy. Now, he is that guy again, but time passing has left its trail on his skin; the lines of his taut skin and the slow steps he took to close the distance between you. All the years that passed were nothing but a jumbled mess of memories in his head, flickering like an old lantern grasping on its last spark of fire. He kept a small journal and a pen to preserve the memories in scribbled words on paper when he remembered a memory. To him, that fleeting resurface of said memory is like you visiting him. Writing them down keeps you around longer.
You stood there, staring at Noritoshi as if he were a stranger woven from memories you could never fully abandon. Everything about him had changed. At first glance, you could barely recognize him if it were not for those eyes of his, beautiful enough to remain engraved within you no matter how much time had passed.
For a moment, the years dissolved before your eyes.
You could still remember every little thing the two of you once shared. The warmth of his hand resting against your cheek as if you were something painfully fragile. The secret intertwining of your fingers whenever no one was around to witness it. The quiet way your hearts once seemed to beat in perfect harmony, as if they had memorized one another long before either of you realized it.
And now, all that remained were ghosts of feelings buried beneath distance and silence. At least, that was what you kept telling yourself.
Yet the glimmer hidden within his eyes betrayed the words he once laid out for you.
The wind passed gently between the two of you, carrying a silence so delicate it almost felt sacred. Neither of you moved, neither of you knew how to.
Seeing him now with shorter hair nearly made you laugh at the irony of it all. Noritoshi had once treasured his long, dark hair as if it were a part of the future he had carved out for himself. He wore it with pride, preserving every strand for the day he would stand as the clan head of his prestigious family.
But that version of him no longer stood before you.
The man in front of you looked exhausted in a way sleep could never fix. His once put together appearance had unraveled into something disheveled and weary, as if life itself had finally forced his carefully built walls to collapse.
And you could not help but wonder what finally broke him enough to realize that sacrificing himself for the clan would never truly make him happy.
Because you certainly could not. Not when he chose duty over you. Not when he ended everything because becoming the next heir mattered more than the softness of your love.
Exhaustion traced itself across the features your fingers once touched with such care. Yet despite the ache lingering within your chest, seeing him again felt strangely refreshing. Perhaps because, for the first time, he no longer looked like the person his clan demanded him to be.
He simply looked like Noritoshi.
“You look good with your haircut,” you murmured softly, finally breaking the silence that had settled so heavily between the two of you.
His hand twitched faintly at his side, as if muscle memory urged him to reach for you before remembering he no longer had the right to.
A quiet laugh escaped him then, breathless and brittle.
“You’re the first person who’s said that.”
The words lingered in the space between you, fragile enough to shatter if either of you spoke too loudly.
Once, Noritoshi would have taken pride in appearances. Every strand of hair perfectly maintained, every movement carried with the dignity expected of someone born into the Kamo clan. Back then, responsibility clung to him like a second skin, tightening around him even as it slowly stole pieces of who he truly was.
But now, standing beneath the fading light, he looked painfully human.
His gaze rested on you for far too long, quiet and lingering, as if he were mourning something only the two of you could understand.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he admitted softly.
The confession settled deep within your chest, awakening an ache you thought time had already dulled.
Because neither did you.
Yet standing before him now felt painfully familiar, like returning to a home you no longer had the right to enter.
And perhaps that was the cruelest part of it all.
Noritoshi still looked at you with love lingering quietly in his eyes, gentle and unwavering despite the years that had passed between you. It was there in the way his gaze softened whenever it landed on you. In the way his hand still twitched at his side like some part of him still remembered how it felt to hold yours.
He loved you. You knew he did. But love had never been the problem. The world around the two of you had always been far crueler than that.
Duty and expectations. The weight of a clan that demanded pieces of him until there was barely anything left to give. And you hated it.
Hated how fate allowed him to become the person you had always needed only when the two of you no longer belonged to each other.
For a fleeting moment, you wondered what would have happened if the world had been kinder to the two of you.
But the silence between you already carried the answer.
In another life, perhaps Noritoshi would have been yours.
In this one, all you could do was stand there loving each other quietly while the world pulled you apart once again.
Kamo Noritoshi x F!Reader (Prior arranged engagement, Naoya x F!Reader)
Rating: mature
Story Contains: Aged up characters, jujutsu schools more like college, canon divergence, Noritoshi is 20, Reader is 22, past forced engagement to Naoya so add all the shit that comes with that man, Naoya will be in this a lot btw, Soulmates having to do with Kamo clan blood techniques, Reader drinking to cope, suicide attempt, psychological trauma, past abuse, protective noritoshi, eventual smut
Note, 7.6k words ... AO3 link: xxx, pinterest board: xxx
Masterlist
***
A flustering warmth permeated through the grand Zenin estate. The woody scent of frankincense swirled in the air, suffocating with a sour note that lingered. It clung to you. Nausea churning. Forever, you decided, would you recognize the smell, attribute it to the heavy shame boring down on you.
You couldn’t do it.
You couldn’t keep the tiny yet polite smile plastered on your lips, the one that showed your submissiveness to the man three paces ahead of you. As if you were glad to be in his wake. That the humiliation of the eyes upon your meek, dejected form weren’t making you want to throw yourself out one of the windows. That you were happy to be his betrothed. As if!
The apprehensiveness that flitted through you, that controlled you, that made breathing feel impossible- it made you want to flee. How your skin prickled with awareness and fear. Lungs constricting, tightening into a little ball so that you could not suck in breaths.
You let Naoya disappear from your line of sight. Your surroundings morphed into blankness, fuzziness in your brain as a quiet buzz settled in your ears. The thumping of your heart, you tasted it in your throat, frantic pulse point you were certain was heard miles away.
A random bathroom became your sanctuary, being able to lock yourself in a compact room was a godsend. The closer the walls, the less they could shrink and lock you in. Tears fell freely once you were alone. Humiliation burned through you. Never had your father or mother treated you like this, never had the heads of your clan. This was inhumane. Naoya’s cruel glances and touches were meant to break you down slowly, again and again. And it was working.
Fleeting glances spared your way. Whispers followed. Silence barely permitted in your head no matter how hard you tried to block it. Conversations still echoed in your eardrums. And when you walked out of the bathroom after an unknown amount of time, you might as well have announced yourself, have had cameras on you. For Naoya was waiting.
“There you are.” He looked down on you and it made you tremble. Weak. Oh so weak and at the mercy of his fanatical, cruel whims.
You could not hide the way you trembled from him. There was nowhere for you to conceal your physical and emotional responses due to him. It was like he could see right through you, every sharp intake of breath, every flash of fear in your eyes.
“I was worried about where you ran off to.” Threats lingered between the bylines of his words. Warnings. He was angry you thought to leave his shadow.
“I-I needed to use the restroom.” You tried to plead your case, for you’d just stepped out from the bathroom.
He leaned in so only you could hear, in case there was someone lingering near. “Then you ask for my permission.”
Naoya gripped you by the back of your neck as he led you from the hall and through a crowded room. It was ironclad. It was humiliating. A scorned child, a plaything that upset its master. You’d have rather been trailing in his wake than have this show of ownership over you. Little by little did you lose yourself without even knowing it.
The sound of your name dragged you from the memory.
Glass shattered at your feet. When did that happen? You gazed at the tatami floors with sparing confusion. Your brain was drawing a blank, a buzzing canvas of white that drifted for far as the eye could see.
“Careful.” Noritoshi.
He approached you with care, gaze connecting to yours with intensity, as if asking for permission to do so. And how he touched you– oh it made you shudder in delight, for it was reverent. For he was gentle as he scooped you up to deposit you away from the glass upon a couch, crouching down to check if you had been harmed.
“Are you hurt?”
“I… Don’t think so. I must have gotten lost in my thoughts. Apologies.”
“I’ll grab your shoes. You have socks on so I imagine you’re okay, but please check. I’ll be right back.”
Your bottom lip trembled as red hot shame filled your body, an uncomfortable warmth that made you squirm. ‘You’re never going to see him again.’ You breathed in and then out, as if trying to remind yourself. Oh, if only you actually believed that, though.
Terrified was not enough to describe how you felt, always looking over your shoulder. You had yet to leave the grounds of Jujutsu Tech Tokyo, in fear Naoya could be waiting. He would not risk coming here, but you and he both knew you couldn’t hide forever. Soon you would need to attend your classes.
And for some reason, Noritoshi had not left yet either, or at least he always came back to the campus he did not attend.
When Noritoshi returned with your shoes, you watched him with curiosity glimmering while he carefully ran his hand along the bottoms of your feet. He seemed to expect a glass shard to be within the fabric of the sock.
Another memory forced itself on you in that moment– one of your father appearing from thin air after an unfortunate crash and shattering of porcelain in the kitchen. You and your mom stared dumbfounded, a shard embedded in her foot and tears tumbling from your eyes. Father had carried the two of you away from the scene of the crime, called upon a doctor to see about mothers wound and then went to clean. There was no anger, only worry, care for the two of yours safety.
It struck you with terrifying clarity that it resurfaced because it mirrored this situation with Noritoshi now. He only cared to know if you were hurt and the look on his face told you he’d go to any lengths to make it better. But why? Naoya would have snarked about your clumsiness, would have been angered by the mess, might have even hit you.
“Why are you doing this?”
Confusion flashed along his features. He looked at the broken glass on the floor and then back to you. He seemed to lament on it, his words wriggling deep into your consciousness, for it was hard to feel the opposite.
You were not used to kindness anymore. It didn't matter the eighteen years you had with loving parents that helped you grow into the woman you were today… You were a mess now. Leftovers for anyone that wished, it seemed, though you were rotting and needing to be thrown out.
“Because I want to.” His gaze leveled with yours. “Of course it’s hard not to feel it is my duty since we are soulmates, but I don’t do it out of duty, I simply want to.”
You mulled his answer over. It was clear he lacked romantic experience, as you did too, with how red he got, almost tripping over his words as he looked at the far wall. It was endearing. Elation in your chest bubbled, you felt lighter, you felt seen.
“If you’d like, maybe I could show you around here more? I’m not sure how familiar you are-”
“I would like that.”
Noritoshi didn’t let you lift a finger to finish cleaning up the glass as did so with startling efficiency. Then he held out his hand for you to take, to help you up, continuing to ask if you were certain you felt okay as you walked. As if he were convinced there was a stray shard of glass that would find its way lodged in your foot. That the thought of you hurt in the smallest of ways would pain him such.
You hadn’t dated as a teenager, you hadn’t been able to show the little parts of yourself to someone. And Naoya couldn’t have cared less about your interests or the attempts you made to bridge the gap that was there. So the fact you were getting to show someone the little things you loved, the fact Noritoshi got to see your office regardless of the mess, meant something.
It was colder than usual as you stepped outside the building, leaving the warmth of the halls of the faculty building where your office was situated.
A buzzing in your brain. Your spine went rigid, stomach hurtling to the floor. The way Noritoshi looked at you, you weren’t sure what he wanted. Standing there, as if waiting, oh god– the obedience engrained into you with force, that you felt in the very marrow in your bones.
“I…” You stared. “How should I walk with you?”
“Huh?” He looked at you as if you’d grown two heads. His forehead crinkled as he frowned.
“If I’m going to show you around I realize I can’t walk behind you…”
“Why would you walk behind me?” You thought you heard him murmur an expletive as he ran a hand down the length of his face before he composed himself, realizing your hesitancy. Your heart stumbled as it was evident he tried to take care of your broken pieces. He wasn’t Naoya, he wasn’t- he wasn’t.
“I…”
“You can take my arm if you like.”
Yes. You couldn’t say it, but you nodded, a small quirk of your lips upwards.
Holding onto him felt like the most natural thing. His silent confidence and calm demeanor that let you take the lead, was healing in a way you couldn’t put words to. It made your heart expand in your chest. Grow and grow, and grow.
“So, I’ve heard you’re enrolled in University. I’m assuming it’s one here in Tokyo?” Noritoshi broke the arbitrary yet comfortable silence.
“Yes. Keio University, I’m in the College of Letters, majoring in library science. I graduate in under two months, it’s nerve wracking, I had wanted to go for a Masters specializing in archives but…”
He hummed before asking, “why don’t you?”
“It wasn’t allowed.” You responded quietly, pink fanning across your cheeks.
“Would you like to?”
“What?” His question caught you off guard. Your steps lost sync with his for a second as you faltered.
“...Continue with your education.”
You did. You really did. “I would. I actually enjoy it on top of working for Jujutsu Tech. I want to continue part time for my graduate studies so I could be here more.”
“It sounds like you’ve put thought into it.”
“I have.” More than fleeting thoughts. You had researched schools, collected letters of recommendation in advance, had your resume and essays written out, everything to show you could handle it. If the Zenin’s saw you had a plan, maybe they’d let you continue part time whilst being Naoya’s wife. Naoya had said no at lightning speed.
“Then you should do it.” Noritoshi looked at you, a softness in his features that made your heart flutter (a sensation you had yearned for to happen with Naoya). “Is it too late to apply?”
“For next semester, yes, but… Maybe a break to recoup wouldn’t be bad… I– Can I?”
“Was it the Zenin clan who forbade it?” That name, Zenin, was like poison on his tongue. Just to hear it felt as if talking of an evil entity that would appear by saying its name alone.
“Yes.”
“I still have this year and the next to finish up my own time at Jujutsu Tech Kyoto, I do not see why you shouldn’t be able to continue your own schooling.”
His words made you choke up.
“Thank you. I’m sorry for this mess.”
“You don’t need to apologize for anything, I promise. I am not easily offended and I am not blind to the circumstances we find ourselves in.”
He was blunt and spoke traditionally, but in a way that did not intend to wound you. It seemed to be how he conversed, how looked at and took on the world. In a way you were glad he kept a respectful distance about everything but would not beat around the bush when needed. You were older than him but you felt childish, embarrassed. Because surely he knew everything now through gossip. Was this his way of telling you?
“There is one thing I needed to talk to you about. In two days I must return to Kyoto, I have been called for a job.”
“I see.” You rocked self-consciously on your feet. “Why have you stayed? I’m sure you're busy.”
For a second he looked pained, as if what he was about to say would hurt him or you. Your stomach lurched. “I- well, wanted to make sure you were okay. That if anything were to happen, I’d be here.”
“In case he showed up.” You swallowed, hard.
“Yes. However, it’s been two weeks, it doesn’t seem like he will. My father has not heard from Naobito either.”
“I suppose that is a good sign.” Neither of you seemed entirely convinced of that, though, questions hanging in the air.
You two walked for a little while longer, not conversing about anything too deep, showing him around the Tokyo campus. There was excitement lacing your voice as you pointed out some of your favorite areas. He never said whether or not he knew of them, or if anything was familiar, only a tiny smile on his lips as he nodded along.
It was a simple mistake that caused your sleeves to roll up, you jerked your arm upwards to point. The action moved the sleeves of your blouse just enough for bandages to peak through. A staticky moment of confusion before realization of what had happened.
“You’re hurt.” Noritoshi’s hand shot out to grasp your wrist, his touch gentle, yet concerned shimmered.
You cringed. The wrist he held, tugged at the bandages of, was the one you cut too deep on, that wasn’t healing as the other. A shudder went through you as you felt the razor slicing into you once again. The blade kissing your skin, the jagged cuts where droplets of blood pooled then stained your skin, remainders still existing in the bathroom it took place.
Understanding blossomed in his eyes, your chest twisted and tightened, you couldn’t look at him. Weighty silence filled the space between you two. An apology hurried to the tip of your tongue, but you stopped it. Noritoshi held your wrist, his thumb grazed along the red, irritated cut trying to heal. You shivered, his touch as light as a feather, but something weighted in the air. Emotion lodged in your throat. An intense need to explain yourself to him, to bear your soul so he wouldn’t judge you, bubbled up.
“A few days before we met, I was drunk, and the reality of what life would be like with Naoya was too much to handle. I’ve been reckless with my life as of late, hoping I would die so I wouldn’t have to marry him. That if something else killed me, it would make it easier.” The words tumbled out. “I’m glad my attempt didn’t work, I couldn’t even cut deep enough to cause serious damage, maybe being intoxicated helped. I’m not sure.”
Noritoshi listened, his eyes focused on you. There was no judgement there, in the stoicness of his features, only a calmness that eased the anxious wriggling beneath your epidermis.
“I see.” You thought you saw a flicker of hurt, of pain as if he was feeling the brunt of your confession. A part of you hoped he was thinking of losing you, that already it tasted like glass in his mouth. Or perhaps this blood bond made him wary, in tune with the thought of your blood dripping to tiled floors. Could he feel it against his skin? The slice of the blade. Was he imagining it? If you were to do it again, would he feel it, too?
“My parents have set up a meeting with a therapist, I’m sure it’ll help. I don’t want to burden you, you’re already busy enough.”
“It’s no bother. I want to get to know you, so I hope that means you feel you can talk to me.”
“I’ll try.”
It was evident both of you had staggering walls built up. Impenetrable ones intended to keep others out. Pasts yet to be shared. But in a moment of softness, both of you taking some leap forward, those walls came down. A shimmering light, a bond that as your skin touched, there was a familiarity, a togetherness that took over.
***
Noritoshi regretted walking into the dining hall immediately upon entering; Mai, Miwa, and Momo sitting eating ramen and edamame. Foolishly, he believed it was late enough that he wouldn’t run into anyone. The girls lit up upon his arrival, something out of the norm to be directed his way. His presence more often than not elicited nerves or discomfort from most, as he held himself with such rigidity.
“Kamo!” Mai grinned as she leaned back in her chair. “We were talking about you.”
Shit. “How can I help you three?” Noritoshi did his best to smooth his features, appear nonchalant.
The three shared a look, sneaky upturns of their lips in which giggles followed suit.
“What’s she like?” Ah, there it was, in a way he was glad they weren’t going to beat around the bush or draw this out. Momo had that glint in her eye that told Noritoshi she fished for answers, for gossip.
Noritoshi had no idea how to respond to the question. You were nice, but like a scared animal in many ways. His ability to read others told him you were intelligent, evidently caring and passionate. But so, so jumpy. Traumatized.
But he’d say none of that as it felt a breach of the tentative trust the two of you built off fleeting moments. He wanted to keep you to himself for now, your smiles and voice close to his chest to properly wade through the changes taking place in him.
Miwa spoke instead as she popped unshelled edamame beans into her mouth. “She’s really pretty.”
“I don’t believe it would be polite for me to talk about her.” Noritoshi said.
“You’re so uptight.” Mai groaned. “She was engaged to my cousin and I hardly know anything about her, besides the fact I pitied her.”
“I need to get to know her myself.” He didn’t like the reminder that you belonged to someone else first, even if it were not by choice. It reminded him that this was entirely the same ordeal.
“But what were your initial thoughts?” Momo asked.
“I… She’s pleasant.”
The blonde made an overly dramatic, exasperated noise. “You are so lame.”
Miwa and Momo bickered a bit, trying to goad him into talking about you. Noritoshi wouldn’t take the bait.
“Does this bond with her, the blood one, make you guys fall in love immediately? What’s it like?”
Noritoshi frowned at the question. “That would be ridiculous, but in a way I do feel different.”
“Oh my god, is Kamo blushing?” Momo gasped. “You’re already smitten, aren’t you.”
Was it possible he fell in love with you at first sight? The shift inside of him, how suddenly you took up all his thoughts. You, the most beautiful woman he’d ever set his sights on. And burdened by so much yet you carried on which told him all he needed to know to be set on learning your ins and outs. Your survival instincts clearly on at all times, you were coming to terms with the broken engagement, you needed time.
But each moment with you out of his sights? He was dying. This innate need to protect you, to make sure you could go about your day unimpeded, it consumed him. This incessant itch that could not be scratched, how it overwhelmed him.
You ruled his mind as his thoughts turned obsessive. You took over his ability to keep his head on straight whilst studying. You made his groin yearn, hardening and needy for him to get off to the images of you. It was all new to Noritoshi and it was frightening, and it was exhilarating.
“Leave it alone.” Mai’s icy tone cut through the air, silenced the two other girls and brought Noritoshi back from his thoughts. “I’ll meet you two at my dorm.”
Noritoshi hovered awkwardly as two of the three left, leaving him with Mai who stared with eyes that could peer right into him.
“Kamo,” Mai said softly once they were alone for a few moments. “He’s not just going to… give her up. Naoya isn’t like that.”
A chill shot down his spine, making him go rigid. Eyes darkened ever so whilst his blood curdled, fingers flexed at his side. Noritoshi didn’t have a response to her warning, he understood her implications easily enough. The underlying threat that would be present. He nodded and hoped he could carry that burden of new knowledge on his shoulders so you would not have to.
“I didn’t imagine it would be that easy.”
“Make sure she knows that, not to let her guard down.”
Mai left after that. The sound of the shoji door closing, left him alone in bereft silence with his thoughts. Thoughts that twisted within Noritoshi couldn’t imagine you being naive enough to believe things with Naoya were over. With clenched fists, he hated how frustration bubbled up in him. A sense of powerlessness, of helplessness he despised.
***
Life went on, surprisingly. And you didn’t wish to exit stage left from the moment you woke until when you went to bed. You felt born anew! Light for the first time in four years as you settled into your new reality. As days flowed into a week and then another, you grew accustomed to the fact you were no longer engaged to Naoya.
You could go to a coffee shop after lecture without a worry. You could meet your friends, your project members without anxiety controlling your being.
One look at yourself in the mirror and you couldn't help but smile, but feel joy over the autonomy you had. Maybe it was telling that your first thought was to dress as Mima Kirigoe from Perfect Blue, that iconic dress from an even more iconic scene. That you had been through hell, that you were trying to make sense of your new reality. That still, nothing made sense, it all mixed together. You were stuck in empty space, floating, waiting for something or someone to save you.
The Jujutsu Tech Kyoto students were arriving at a restaurant/bar Gojo rented soon, so you knew you needed to be on your way. But it was the first few nights since you finally returned to your apartment, away from Tokyo’s school grounds. Still so jumpy, checking over your shoulder, gazing at your phone, triple checking locks…
A lazy knock at the front door shook you from your worries. You checked yourself over once. Then twice. Content with what you saw in the mirror, you hurried to meet who was waiting for you, Shoko.
How Gojo convinced Utahime and the Kyoto principal into this, you weren’t sure. Perhaps everyone wanted to see the notorious lightweight that was the strongest sorcerer drunk, but you still didn’t get it. There was pressure laying upon you, pressing down on your shoulders. The Kyoto students were peers of your soulmate, they’d be judging and studying you alike.
Noritoshi’s peers. It scared you thinking of all the opinions they might have formed about you. If there was someone he was close to that might despise you. Perhaps even a girl who fancied him. Then you an older woman who would sweep in, ruin everything. What would a younger man want with you?
“Ready?” Shoko called, a foot inside, studying her nails. She knew to be patient. She knew you were learning how to walk again without the ever present presence of the devil on your shoulder. At times you felt like a newborn, a doe with shaky legs uncertain how to walk.
“Yep!” You weren’t, you were far from ready, unable to stop picking at your dress to make sure it looked perfect.
It took Shoko dragging you from the bounds of your apartment to rip your mind away from the fragile thoughts that filtered in.
Thankfully the restaurant was lowkey, only faculty and students present because Gojo had the funds to rent it out. The nervous butterflies in your stomach, skin all clammy, you couldn't wait to see him. An impatience since you and Shoko were late, and your mind was beginning to give into intrusive thoughts.
Until you saw him.
Everything went quiet; all the worries, all the insecurities drained. Because Noritoshi was the only person in the room for you. Your blood sang for him, it ached for you to be in reach, to touch his skin and never leave his side. Biologically all you needed and wanted was him, your body seemed to know, it was from raw instincts. Whereas your mind had been belittled into the ground, it knew to fear, it knew to be submissive.
What were you to do? He answered that question for you, approaching, stealing your breath away.
The urge to touch his cheek, to feel his skin was strong, it called to you. But as his elder you knew to contain yourself, though your excitement wouldn’t be erased. How you grabbed at his hands, tugged him in for a quick hug. You’d never forget the beating of his heart hammering against your chest, or how he stiffened in shock, then hugged you back.
“Hey, it’s good to see you.”
“Hi, you too.” When you pulled apart, it was hard not to stand there like two kids with crushes who hadn’t the slightest clue what to do. Your fingers fumbled with the hem of your dress.
His eyes moved along your figure, nerves danced in your stomach. “Who are you dressed as?”
“Mima from Perfect Blue, I see you uh… Dressed as a Jujutsu Tech student?” You teased, not surprised he didn’t adorn a costume. It made your heart flutter, a squeeze of affection towards him.
“Yes.” His gaze dropped, possibly out of embarrassment over not dressing up. “I’m not familiar with Perfect Blue.”
“It’s a movie!” The smile tugging at the corners of your lips was inevitable. “We can watch it sometime.”
You thought you might because the poor boy to erupt into flames with how pink his cheeks turned. In a way you caught yourself off guard too.
“S-Sorry,” you murmured. “That was forward of me.”
“I don’t mind.”
The two of you stood there, staring into each other's eyes with earnest emotions. Hearts on your sleeves. You blushed furiously as you remembered the last time you saw him, touched him, how your heart recognized him, called to him. It was an overwhelming sensation, your body physically screaming to be near him, whilst your scarred mind needed you to slow down.
Gojo handed you a drink, the room seemed to spin as you stared at the bronze liquid. A discomfort lodged in your throat as you brought it to your lips. The liquor and whatever mixer burned as it went down. It was familiar. It was comfortable.
But no longer, did you want comfort. Or an escape. Maybe with time you could enjoy a couple drinks again, but it wasn’t what you wanted for the present.
“C’mere.” You tugged Noritoshi towards the back door, where a small garden was, lights strung up flickering above. Well groomed paths and water fixtures, flowers and bare cherry blossom trees. “This is cute!”
“So.” You felt awkward, but you pushed on. “What does your family expect of me? Of us…”
“Once I’ve graduated from Jujutsu Tech, they’d want us to get married. But don’t worry, you can continue at school.”
“Are you sure?”
“Even if they’re against it, I would support you, push for it, for you.”
You adored hearing that leave his lips, that he’d fight for you to get your degree, to do what was important to you. But there was bitterness, because there was no world where you wouldn’t be forced to have children. “Then they’d want heirs?”
“Ah…” Oh he turned pink. “Yes.”
Kids were a topic you rarely thought of, though you knew within the Zenin clan it was inevitable. You wondered with Noritoshi, if even within the Kamo clan, there was hope for normalcy, for support given your way like any other mother. Noritoshi gave you that daydream.
“I’ll admit,” Noritoshi said, he squirmed in his seat beneath the night sky and the stars, amongst the garden where it seemed nothing could touch you. “I don’t have dating experience, it’s never been important to me.”
“Technically, I don’t either. Naoya wasn’t much of a boyfriend.”
That earned you a chuckle from the Kamo heir. “At least the bar is low, I can’t imagine I’ll be much worse.”
“Gods I hope not.” You giggled. “I might be cursed, at that point if you were.”
“Okay, don’t laugh.” He pulled out his phone. “The girls, Miwa, Mai, and Momo, gave me this list. They said I should know these things about you.”
One of your brows raised. His nerves warmed your heart, for he was earnest and genuine, to you he seemed a true man. Unafraid of the things he did not know, willing to make a fool of himself if it meant you’d beam and let your walls down. He wished to get to know you. Wanted you to know him. And it meant the world, let you think you weren’t a broken woman.
You took his phone as he passed it to you, open to his notes page. A laugh tugged at the corners of your lips as you gazed along the list typed out.
Things you should know about your soulmate, for Kamo (from Mai, Momo, and Miwa- girl expert extraordinaires)
Favorite color
Favorite flower(s)
Favorite foods (including desserts)
Dream honeymoon location(s)
Preferred type of dates (movies, dinners, staying in?)
Favorite books and or TV shows/movies
…
The list went on.
A smile was etched on your lips as your veins flowed with blood that permanently connected to his in a way incomprehensible, for it had to be. A connection so intimate and otherworldly. Laughter bubbling from deep in your loins. You began to type, answering the list with its numbers of things to know.
This was precisely what you would have wanted a relationship to be like, full of nervous butterflies and awkward glances, nerves filling every vein and excitement of a possible future. The type of love in grade school, innocent and filled with hope in the unknown.
It was joyful, responding, giving insight into parts of yourself. Into things Naoya had never bothered to know about you. You were a toy, a plaything, easy to discard and to manipulate, a simple trophy.
“Do we get to start anew?”
He looked at you, an odd glint as he asked. “What do you mean?”
“The two of us? I worry you’d judge me, that I’m broken.”
“No. You’re not.” Noritoshi was stern. “You’re not broken. If you are, I am too. I intend to take care of you. No matter what.”
You reached across to grasp his hands. They were warm in yours as fingers laced.
Suddenly shouts from inside reached the two of you. Gojo’s laughter ringing in your ears, chants of a countdown. For what? You weren’t sure. But you were giddy like a school girl with a crush, having your first experience with a boy liking you back.
The two of you with zero experience, learning with the other, navigating unknown territories because you believed the other was worth it.
A leap of faith.
***
The hum of the dishwasher droned above the volume of the television, yet you didn’t bother to turn it up. You’d seen this episode plenty and the book in hand as you huddled in a blanket, was far too engrossing for you to care. A timer on your phone ticked down, set to remind you when to rip yourself from the fantasy world to return to your studies. You had snoozed it twice.
A sharp knock ripped you from the pages, the words you clung to with a fervor. No, it was more of a bang. Three heavy thumps of a fist against your door.
The book dropped, falling from your lap, tumbling to the ground, and landing spine up. Alarm ricocheted through you, your nervous system alit with flittering electricity that made your brain go blank. Breaths short and breathy, your chest rising and falling at a faster degree.
No no nononono–
As you stood, as your veins turned to ice, your knees threatened to buckle. By mere adrenaline did you make it to the door to check the peephole. Your hand clamped to your lips to stifle your gasp.
Naoya stood like he owned the place on your doorstep. Arms crossed, his stance one that screamed his agitation, his utterly ridiculous confidence. But you saw the way he seemed to tremble in place from what you knew was fury, his displeasure itself induced your very nightmares.
Dizziness washed over you. A giant wave crashing down, knocking you off your feet, slamming you onto the sand. And then it dragged you and tossed you about, whilst you flailed and choked on saltwater. The sight of him made you sick.
Unable to move, you stood in place, eyes stuck wide from fright.
“Open the door.” Naoya’s voice made your blood roil, a meek choking sound slipping past your lips still clamped beneath your hand. He heard. “I’ll break it fucking down if I have to, you got ten seconds.”
‘He wouldn’t, would he?’ Oh yes, he would. And he’d cackle while doing it, as if it brought him great joy to see terror etched on your face.
Somehow your body reacted, you flung yourself to where your phone sat on the coffee table. You fumbled, sweat already dripped down your nape as Naoya lazily counted down from ten, ceremoniously slow. Taunting you. With three of his long seconds to go, you sent an s.o.s to Gojo and was yanking on the front door handle.
Out of breath, flushed, on the precipice of tears, you stared into his severe eyes. That feline look he would watch you with, like food to play with, and you shuddered at how his lips curled upwards in a sneer.
“What took so long?”
When you gave no response, staring at him like a wet, trembling kitten, he forced his way inside. Brushed passed you, made himself at home as he had done many times before. Settling on your couch, manspreading with that aggregating, smugness.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” His tone dripped with a malicious sarcasm lilting his words. A nastiness where his eyes narrowed on you and you knew the thoughts swirling in his head. “Did you already forget how to behave, woman?”
Like it was muscle memory, you responded to his order, brain going fuzzy. Ingrained within you, you approached, dropped to your knees in front of him.
You choked back a sob as his hand grazed the top of your head, petting your hair as if you were his pet. It wasn’t kindness he showed you, it was control, he was mocking you. “Look at you, pathetic, so willing to be on your knees for me. It’s like second nature for you now, isn’t it?”
How you leaned into his touch.
How you sobbed as he smoothed your hair down, as he condescendingly shushed you, mockingly cooed at you.
A fluttering in your belly. A sense of warmth, of safety in your loins that felt peace, that wanted to lean into him, that needed more. Only his words, his being could keep you sane, could keep you secure. For you knew no better. In high school you never had a boyfriend, the engagement came onto you like a storm and you never got to adapt, to understand how wrong it was. Zenin Naoya fucked up your love map, screwed you over because you grew up to believe his cruelty equated love.
He re-routed you. He ingrained himself into you. Into your nerves. Into your heart. Even into your dreams.
So all you could think about at this moment was Naoya.
Until remembrance hit you, smacked you in the cheek and forced you to see straight. A blaring reminder in your head that you need not submit. You need not humiliate yourself. The man you tried to convince yourself for years that he loved you, did not love you. You had another purpose. You were someone else’s. Your belonging was to another. Someone kinder. Someone who made you feel warmth rather than indignity.
“Leave.” You choked out.
Naoya stilled. Shock wrote over the smugness on his features. He froze, then his gaze leveled unto you.
“Excuse me?” He grit out, with a sense of incredulousness to him.
Your fists clenched in your lap, nails digging half moon indents into your skin. “You shouldn’t be here. We’re no longer engaged.”
His facade slipped for a second. A flash of unadultured rage broke through before he schooled himself once more. One of his hands shot out, gripping your cheeks as he squeezed, forcing you to look up at him. Always staring down on you as if you were more than physically beneath him. The glimmer of possession and amusement in his eyes stripped you raw, to the bone. More tears lined your lashline, dripping down, a choked sob strangled out from your throat. Pulse in your throat. Heart thundering in your ears.
And then–
The front door opened, slammed, shaking the frame. Gojo Satoru stood there in all his glory with a shopping bag in hand. A grin on his face even though his eyes were still covered. If he was surprised to see Naoya there, he didn’t show it. You were grateful at how unbothered he could behave, yet read a room to know precisely what was happening.
Naoya still held your cheeks in a condescending hold, you on your knees like a beggar whilst he sat above you. His hands left you at once, the absence of him a godsend as you stared helplessly at Gojo.
“Ah! You didn’t tell me he was joining our taste testing.” Gojo held a bag you knew was from a local cafe. “You want some mochi, Zenin?”
Naoya might have been a narcissistic idiot, though he was skilled, he knew there was no trying to one-up Gojo. No one was that self confident to delude themselves into that, at least you believed such. The relief in you was palpable as Naoya relented, standing and stepping away from the couch. The way your muscles relaxed, pupils returned to a normal size, and the breath you let out was shaky.
“No. I do not.” His feline-like features twisted into aggravation. Naoya’s eyes narrowed, darted from you then to Gojo. The way his hands clenched in his lip showed how the slip in control affected him.
“Oh well, then you’re interrupting. Bye!” Gojo grinned, how he could seem so nonchalant was beyond you. You were wrought out on the inside, raw and quivering. Vulnerable for all to see the way you hurt on the inside. The beating of your heart, the pumping of your blood, your fear was palpable.
When Naoya sent you a withering final look before the door slammed closed, it told you all you needed to know. He wasn’t done with you yet.
“Fuck,” Gojo whistled. “He showed up unannounced?"
“Yeah.”
Crouching down beside you, he placed a comforting hand on your shoulders that trembled.
You spoke, words flying from your mouth before he could say anything more. You needed to, needed to ramble, get the bustling and jumbled thoughts out before you screamed.
“I’m so glad you saw my text. It was the first thing I thought to do when he banged on more door, that you could get here fastest, hopefully before he could do anything. He said he’d bust the door down and I-I was so scared. He would have done it, you know. Oh god–” You couldn’t think straight. A dizzy spell pulled you under, your surroundings spun as your mind screamed for reprieve. “He’s going to kill me, isn’t? He’s never going to leave me–”
Gojo grabbed his hands in yours, the intimacy of the gesture from him shocked you into silence. You didn’t know him well outside of Jujutsu Tech, nor was he the first person you’d call upon for a pep talk or a good cry (likely he was the last), but you knew he cared for his students and fellow faculty in his own way. “Breathe.”
You did, breathe. In then out. Again and again until your heart rate slowed from its rapid pace.
“Want me to take you back to campus?”
“Yes.”
“I can take you to whatever classes this week if you need. Even the next. I’m sure some of the students would come, make a trip out of it so they can stretch their legs and all.”
“Thank you.” You whispered. Relieved he wasn’t going to force you to talk about it. He hadn’t tried to dismiss you or tell you that you were wrong.
“You should call either your parents or you could bypass them all together and let the head of the Kamo clan know.”
You’d call the leader of the Haijima clan. You wouldn’t worry your parents over this, nor get Kamo’s involved, uncertain what either side might do. “I’ll figure it out.”
“I could always blast him-”
“No no, that would cause more issues.”
Gojo made a face of faux annoyance. But he seemed pleased, seeing how you snapped out of it just slightly as you wiped stray tears from your face. A soft sigh bordering on a giggle left your lips at his comment. “Well, we shouldn’t go just yet in case he’s stalking about, can’t waste the snacks I got.”
He tossed some wrapped mochi your way, you caught them, more than happy to dig in. The weight of Naoya’s surprise visit began to dissipate, the knots in your stomach unraveling. Though you knew, that wouldn’t be the last of him.
***
Time was a funny concept.
The last four years had been long, feeling more like eight, each day a battle to get out of bed and make it to nighttime. Whereas since the broken engagement, life flew by at an unprecedented rate. Your final weeks of undergraduate school were the next week. Already.
You dreaded this week for months, for years, not because of the normal stress of finals, but of what it symbolized. The end.
Now, it was no longer ‘the end’ anymore. The lack of nervous butterflies swarming you was alarming, never had you felt so… quiet. You grew so used to being a bottomless pit of endless anxiety, dread you could not even escape in your sleep. Sun up to sundown.
Born again. Risen from the ashes with a second chance.
Rather than wishing for finals to never approach, you could not wait for them to be done and walk across the graduation stage. To hold your diploma in your gown and robe and be proud of the work you've done.
An email from your advisor caught your attention as it pinged on your open laptop. This time the nerves that fluttered in your abdomen were of excitement, of hope. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as your eyes scanned the words.
‘I hope this reaches you well, I’ve talked with colleagues here and it was an immediate yes to give you an unofficial spot to start next Fall. In the spring you need to apply then accept if you wish when admissions goes out before Summer.
While I would pray you choose to continue your studies here, my former colleague at Kyoto University said she would love to take you on for your masters, you could work alongside her while you learn. Her PhD student graduates in the Spring and is moving abroad. I’ve attached a link to their admissions process and her email for you to reach out. As it saddens me to say, I do believe the program there would be a good fit for you as well.’
You still couldn’t believe you inquired about Kyoto University’s program, it was sought after, and across the country. Six hours from Tokyo. Closer to Noritoshi. And by default closer to the Zenin clan.
It would be stupid of you to attend. Wouldn’t it? The buffer of the distance being in Tokyo away from Kyoto had allowed you to keep a semblance of your life whilst under Naoya’s rule. Though he found enjoyment in shattering that buffer, making the journey whenever he pleased, keeping you on your toes.
You decided to call your parents, talk it over, then meet with Yaga. You wouldn’t start either program until next Fall, more than likely using the next half a year to work full time for Jujutsu Tech. Maybe you could work in Kyoto for a little, see how it affects you. Were you asking for a death sentence? Asking to live in anxiety knowing you were hours closer to Naoya?
It would be a jump, your actual biggest leap of faith yet, going against all your instincts that screamed at you to hide. To disappear so nothing or no one could ever touch you again. But the ways you had changed since your blood bond awakened with Noritoshi… the biggest was the way thinking of him ignited you with hope. A willingness to take that plunge, as if your subconscious knew you needed to.
Kamo Noritoshi x F!Reader (Prior Arranged Engagment, Zenon Naoya x F!Reader)
Rating: mature
Story Contains: Aged up characters, jujutsu schools more like college, canon divergence, Noritoshi is 20, Reader is 22, past forced engagement to Naoya so add all the shit that comes with that man, Naoya will be in this a lot btw, Soulmates having to do with Kamo clan blood techniques, Reader drinking to cope, suicide attempt, psychological trauma, past abuse, protective noritoshi, eventual smut
Note, 6.5k words. lowkey ‘nettles’ by ethel cain inspired me bc you cannot tell me the lyric “that picture on the wall you’re scared of looks just like you”— doesn’t fit for noritoshi … AO3 link: xxx , Pinterest board: xxx
Masterlist
***
You could hate yourself freely in the dark. Like this, with the impenetrable blackness a void wrapped around you. Suffocating you. Feeding off your life force, that you knew soon would be gone. Your light was leaving you. It started to waver the day your engagement began.
At 18, you thought you had the whole world ahead of you, a life of endless opportunities. Though you had your role in it like anyone else, within Jujutsu Society, you still had hope. Hope of attending a normal University, meeting others outside the world of curses, trips, and dates. As a member of the Haijima clan and lucky enough to have inherited the family’s rarest ability, you were semi-safe as a woman in your world. A psychic of sorts, though it sounded silly, you were cursed with knowledge. Knowledge in curses, in objects, and in coming events. Able to shift through the fog of the future to interpret. Sight- the ‘All Seeing’ technique.
Years ago your father had seen Sukuna rise again. The message was heeded, but you knew many were dubious of your father when more and more time passed. Until that foolish boy ate one of the fingers that is, now it seems your clan walked on water once more. Still, the importance of your family within the society was reverent, even though no fighters came from the bloodline. No one would ever dare take away the Haijima family’s seat at the table.
You thought you understood what it meant to be in your clan after years learning duty. What that protection of your name meant . That even the worst men the clans had to offer couldn’t disparage you as they did others. You wished you had seen what was going to happen that day. The day you stepped foot on Zenin soil, gripping your father’s arm as you walked through the gates.
“Remember dear, do not talk unless absolutely needed, and do not leave my sight.” The last thing he wanted was you here, but since coming of age, you would be taking a bigger role within the clan. And the heads of the major clans wanted proper introductions to you.
“I know.” Your voice was strained, your heart hammering in your chest. You'd heard stories of the Zenin’s you heard through the grapevine, but the fact your mother wouldn’t come for this trip shook you more than the gossip. The fear in her eyes as her and father whispered in harsh tones regarding it. A parchment with a Zenin seal discarded on the kitchen table told you all you needed to know.
The matter of it all was, you were the only member of the Haijima clan to be born with the All Seeing technique in almost thirty years. Your cousins, aunts, uncles, even if they had cursed energy, did not have sight like you or your father. Which meant, there were no men your age that would be taking over the visits, the audiences, everything as time would go on for the Zenin clan. It was a silent rule to never go there without a man present, for they would not see you as an equal, and apparently the heir was horrid.
If only you could go back in time so that your eyes never connected with his. So that when you met him during your meeting with the Zenin clan head, there would be no recognition. For he was the heir. Naoya. Much older than you, almost five years, yet devastatingly handsome aside from the awfully bleached hair. When he opened that mouth of his, there was nothing kind, nothing redeemable.
“We are glad to finally make your acquaintance.” Talks had been less than interesting and you were itching to go, the hours ticked by. But Naobito kept talking. “Before you leave, there is one last thing.” The Zenin head pulled out a folder in which he passed to your father. “Marriage contract. We had talked about it fleetingly, but it seems Naoya has decided after seeing your daughter, so I had these drafted. Our bloodlines mixing would bring great sorcerers. And as I understand it, no one else in your clan has been born with sight, correct?”
Your father’s facial features slipped in surprise, showing a crack in his defenses. They had been stalling, keeping the two of you there so the contract could be written up.
“We did not come here for a marriage proposal. My daughter is about to attend University, where she will focus on her studies while working part time for Jujutsu Tech Tokyo”
“I’m not asking.” Naoya sneered, lurching to attention, his uncaring attitude gone. His gaze on you was that of a predator sizing up its prey. You felt bare, ripped open. “I want her, you should be thankful she caught my attention.”
“No-”
Naobito interrupted your father. “As of today they will be engaged. Your daughter may finish school before they marry, that will be our show of good faith.”
“My wife will not go to a University.” Anger flashed on Naoya’s face.
“What is she studying?” Naobito asked, ignoring his son, eyes narrowing.
Never once did these men talk to you. Never once did they act as if you were there in the room listening. You were a thing to barter with.
“Information and library sciences, it will help her become an archivist, in turn she can assist our schools and clans in more ways than just her sight.”
Naoya made some remarks about librarians and how he would be gracious enough to allow it. But he wasn’t happy as he must have thought he’d trap you in weeks, or days. You realized then that it was your abilities and your clan name that kept you from becoming his property.
“And you will wait until marriage until you may touch her.” Your father gritted out, one of his hands clenched in his lap. It was embarrassing to have your father imply about sex, but it chilled you to your core to also realize it was another way to protect you. After meeting Naoya, you knew he’d have no qualms about forcing you, that monstrous look in his eyes when he gazed at you.
You needed to try to finish your degree as slowly as possible as you knew your parents would do whatever to stop this marriage.
That was the day your light began to snuff out. A cage constructing around you. The world closing in.
Your tear ducts dried long ago. Years ago maybe. In two months time, you would walk across the stage at graduation. Then after, promptly walked off and down the aisle to Naoya.
The alcohol you’d drank earlier still warmed your veins, still made your vision blur. A bubbling dizziness in your head making your world spin faster and faster, though your movements slowed.
You knew your drinking was getting worse. From the moment you awoke to when you finally fell asleep, you were nothing but a twine of anxiety. A heavy weight on your shoulders, a pit in your stomach. You were an inexplicable maw of frustration towards your lack of autonomy. With each check on the calendar to count down the days, the worse your mental state became.
Spiraling. You were angry, distraught, and some days melancholy controlled you. It left you a husk that could barely function.
Claws scratched at your lungs, at your ribcage, had a scream lodged in your throat. Body tingling, numb, as you built and built. You were a boiling pot of water, about to bubble over, blow the top off even. No control no control nocontrolnocontrol–
Thoughts of your future and what it would look like being Naoya’s wife plagued you. It took over every crevice in your mind. It rewired your body, how your nervous system reacted, always in overdrive, scared, uncertain of what to do with yourself. As the years in University flew by, you stopped caring about life's dangers.
You had nothing to lose because in two months time you would lose everything.
Would that end up being your fate? All you would ever be? Another name on a list. The long, long list of women destroyed by the Zenin clan. A victim, who perhaps one day turned perpetrator if you were to have a daughter, and that would be your fate. A victim to the patriarchy. Forgotten. A ghost haunting their halls. A breeding mare to be tossed away when no longer useful.
Once, you had longed for love. Desperately wanted what your parents had. But you would be a fool to believe there would be love in marriage with Naoya, you’d tried to gaslight yourself at the start for too long. ‘Maybe he’ll change’, ‘Perhaps he doesn’t know how to show his feelings.’ Anything to make your situation better, to convince yourself this was for the best. Anything at all, even the most ludicrous of thoughts! Daydreams of him turning into a white knight just for you! But the day he cornered you alone for the first time, eight months into the engagement, when he bruised your throat from how hard he squeezed– any silly allusions shattered. He plagued you after that, your own little shadow in more ways than one.
Pushing up from bed, you stumbled through the dark towards the bathroom ensuite.
With a flick of a switch, the fluorescents flared to life, blinding you as you squinted, splotchy dots consuming your vision. The face that stared back in the mirror above the sink was a stranger. Dark bags and a far away gaze, no warmth beneath your skin. All the alcohol you’d consumed as of late made your features puffy, something about it tugged at your heartstrings, oh how low you were falling.
Your actions did not seem to be your own, like another force controlled your movements as you sat in the passenger seat to watch on. In a drawer sat leftover razor blades. Your fingers gingerly, reverently stroked one before taking hold.
You stared, transfixed on the tiny blade as it kissed along the delicate inside of your wrist. Red blooming from the lines, like little buds that would blossom into flowers. Lungs burned from how you held your breath, goosebumps prickled up your arms.
The pain did not hit you right away. What had tears blurring your sight was the rush of adrenaline, of emotion, of being alive for the first time in so long. Aware of the growing franticness of your pulse. The maddening thumps of your heart readying itself to burst from your ribcage, leaving you splayed open and ready to give back to the earth.
Panic hit you, a shuddering intake of air snapped you back to the present. A sharp ache. A pulsing sensation marred you and had your mouth forming an ‘O’ in silent screams. The cold tile welcomed you like an old friend, crouched, tucked in on yourself as you wished to disappear. Had you sliced deep enough? Did you dare peer into the future to see if you survived this? Regret mixed with fear, mixed with a fucked up sense of relief as you dry heaved, as your breaths came out as wheezes.
You were so, so tired, unable to fight to stay awake…
In the morning you woke to the sound of birdsong and to dried blood tile in what you thought was the shape of gardenias.
***
Exhaustion burned deep in your bones as you flipped through pages of an ancient tome. Hours of deciphering texts of an unusable cursed language had your eyes stinging and back hunched from how you sat. Your lack of sleep was catching up with you. It was like being hit by a train head on, how the dam of caffeine holding the floodgates back blew open. Tiredness settled. Your lids felt heavier and heavier as they fluttered closed.
When did the images start? Flashes of an event would take hold of your vision and brain. It was like watching a movie etched on the back of your eyes and there was no way to stop it. That was how your technique worked at times, coming over you with no prior notice.
You rarely, if ever, saw yourself in the future. Which had always made sense. But this time, this time the sight of you was blurry, but the red of blood was overwhelming. Maroon filled your senses. It was everywhere.
It kept happening, time and time again. Were you meant to die? Was the world angry you weren’t able to cut deep enough the other night?
Your chest tightened, like something took hold and squeezed your lungs with all its might.
There was one week left before a sorcerer needed the book translated, which your abilities allowed you to do so with ease. One look at what appeared to be scribbles and shapes would fall into place. This book per Yaga’s guidance was supposed to be the key to tracking an old curse out in the country that only showed itself every few years. Supposedly in life as a sorcerer having written the extensive tome.
Deciding to take a break, escaping from your stuffy office, fresh air was a heaven send. There was something about autumn, about the crisp breezes and the changing of leaves. Everything coalescing into a painting of reds, oranges and golden yellows overtaking green. The air smelled of cinnamon, a heady pine amongst the serenity that was the Jujutsu Tech Tokyo campus, as if it were a whole other world.
The cold seeped its way in, though, a permanence to it at this time of the year. Halloween was around the corner, which in your mind was the final send off before gloomy winter months set in. One last hurrah before bunkering in for snow and cold, early nights, and seasonal depression.
And you were very much planning on making the most of Halloween week this year, you imagined it would be the last one you’d get to celebrate. Thinking of themed drinks and skimpy costumes, a smile crept onto your lips, a giddiness swirling in your loins.
The walk from the building that housed your office space was a short walk to the cursed library few could enter. But in a quick decision, you decided to take a more scenic route, walk along campus and see who was around. Surely the first and second years would be training, watching could bring entertainment.
The last few years had been nothing if not stressful yet fruitful. Your abilities surpassed your father’s by the time you were 20, bringing you to new heights with your sight. When has the last member of your clan been able to peer into the future as they pleased? Normally visions came on at random or through great time spent expelling cursed energy to force one to come. It could be hit and miss, but fate always found a way to transcribe a coming calamity to your family.
But you? Whether it was out of your own desperation, the depths at which sorrow consumed you, or luck… You wouldn’t be sure. It was the only place you had autonomy, retreating into yourself, letting your cursed energy flow through you.
You’d thought the future was a finite thing– that whatever shown would happen without a doubt. But having control over what you saw, showed just how trigger happy the future actually was, all based on the whims of one's decisions.
As the Fall air nourished your body, feeling light as you walked along a stone path, you did not think to look ahead. Why bother to see the future in ten minutes or in two hours? You had no sense of self preservation anymore, uncaring if you walked a line that veered you towards death. Whatever happened, could happen, you didn’t care.
So you were in your own world as you continued your walk, heading towards the track. It was after midday, clouds amassing over the sky, gray and soft rumbling erupting in the distance. An ominous breeze hugged your figure, a niggling at the back of your head telling you to turn back. Something felt wrong, or very right, and you ignored the voice that urged you to stop.
Did the Tokyo school decide to add more students? You re-counted the figures on the field within the track as you descended the stairs. Strange.
You could make out Maki lingering on the outside. She waved at you, a motion for you to come over and you obliged. There was a bond there, with her, a quiet understanding, an unwavering support most likely due to your upcoming nuptials. You never spoke about it though. As you got closer you realized there was commotion, voices arguing, tensions high. You flinched from the intense auras radiating in the air.
“Willing to break this up?” Maki asked with annoyance. “You’re faculty, they may listen.”
“You’re gonna get me killed.”
“Isn’t that the point?”
Playfully you stuck your tongue out at the second year before jogging towards the smaller group.
Todo stood out, which told you Kyoto students were here, his voice louder as he was in Fushiguro’s face about something. You recognized the mocking tone of Mai as her and Nobara traded blows. Panda flailing his arms about trying to get them all to stop.
“Okay guys, let’s break whatever this is up.” You tried using your most teacher-like voice, tried to have a sense of superiority so they’d listen. Because if you accidentally got in front of a wild punch? It’d kill you.
“Good! Someone unbiased who can solve our argument.” Todo seemed thrilled at your arrival, you who did not wear a school uniform, but something more professional to indicate your faculty position.
“Solve what?” From beside you, Itadori and Nobara started shaking their heads, trying to get your attention.
“The concept that type–”
“Todo.” A new voice cut in, the intensity of it made you shiver. Heads turned to see whom it was, for at least you hadn’t the slightest clue.
Another student, one who appeared older, dressed in the traditional uniforms rather than the casuals most adorned. He was annoyed, his longish black hair tied back, his eyes severe.
Everything stopped, the world coming to a grating halt as your gazes connected. For a second you swear you could not breathe, that the air grew swelteringly hot and dense. That tendrils of some unknown force worked their way around you and inside of you, taking control as your veins felt painfully full. Somehow the entirety of your existence had changed.
Starlike blood splatters burst from his eyes as they stained his statue-esq face. Shock reverberated from him as he paled. Your mind raced. You swayed. Hadn’t you read about something like this somewhere before?
Someone yelled your name. You couldn’t be sure what happened next as black spots invaded your senses and your knees buckled. But you knew blood began to trickle from your lashline as you met the ground. Breath knocked from your lungs. Pain shooting up your veins next as your palms splayed out on the ground as you braced yourself. You shattered.
Someone tried to help you up, but the mysterious man hissed at them to not touch you. A protectiveness that made your heart ache in yearning. Maki’s voice was the last thing you heard before your body went limp.
***
Noritoshi trembled. His freaking blood hurt and that in itself did not make sense. Hot and viscous, a numbness coursing in him that left him unsettled.
He needed to see you. Needed to touch you to make sure this was real. The gears in his head spun as he tried to make sense of it. Something was inexplicably different about him. A shift had taken place, one that seemed to change the course of his life whether he was ready for it or not.
Upon hearing your name he had an inkling of you, knowledge of who you were. It was sitting on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t place it. Your name was on repeat in his mind. Who were you? Why was everyone butting their heads into this? There was no reason for members of the Zenin clan to be present as you weren’t one. Why couldn’t he go see you?
Noritoshi liked to have his days planned out, to control the things he was able to. This was not something he enjoyed, the lack of control tugged mercilessly at him. Within the hour heads of his clan, your clan, and the Zenins arrived and there was anger unlike anything he’d seen in meetings before.
A chill shot down his spine. His senses were on full alert. Awareness that danger was around the corner, that someone dangerous watched him.
Naoya, pure hatred danced on his features. Discomfort lodged in Noritoshi’s gut. He was so flustered from finding out he had a blood match, a soulmate, that he couldn’t think straight. His usual air of cool confidence was amiss and he felt bare.
You. A member of the prestigious Haijima clan with the sight technique, was his blood match. Once a fairy tale in his clan, one girls loved to chatter about with a dreamy look in their eyes, but it was his reality. Wasn’t this what he’d wished for as a child, for his mother to be for his father?
“This is obviously a set up.” Naoya snapped, which brought Noritoshi back to reality. It was unlike him to space out, but he chalked it up to the fact he was still in the midst of being biologically changed (or now finished that he finally met you). “That bitch has been trying to get out of the marriage for years.”
Noritoshi felt his composure snap at that moment. Who was that man to call you a bitch? He gripped the hem of his uniform, forced himself to breathe as he saw red.
It all clicked (Noritoshi felt gruelingly slow, off kilter which he hated, it should not have taken this long for him to figure out). You were engaged to Naoya. The poor girl whom managed to secure a few years for schooling before marrying the raging misogynist. And realizing that made his blood boil all over again, scarily cold anger trickling into him.
“Shut your mouth, boy.” Your father seethed, gaining Naoya’s attention, allowing Noritoshi to regain himself before he was the one to cause a scene. “You have tormented my daughter-”
“You can’t speak to me like this, I will remember it.”
Tormented. Naoya’s tormented you, his soulmate, and he hasn’t been there to protect you. Thank god he found you before the wedding.
“Naoya.” With one look from Naobito, the pathetic excuse for a man sunk back into his chair. Naoya sunk back into his chair, his ego marred. “We mean no disrespect towards the Haijima clan, nor the Kamo clan. Due to the rarity of this bond, we will dissolve the engagement.” He looked at your father. “Will you sign in her stead?”
“Yes, and I want this paperwork drafted immediately,”
“Of course. But we would like another bride, from either clan as payment for this inconvenience.” It wasn’t that Naobito was jumping up and down over this, ready to give in and give you up. But there was a balance in Jujutsu society and making enemies of the Kamo and Haijima clans would unearth such balance. There was enough inner turmoil as of late over Itadori still being alive, that this was not needed atop of it.
Finally, the meeting adjourned. The papers paraded out, all parties signed what was necessary. Some of the tightness inside of him disappeared at that (in a way it was relief for you, because you wouldn’t have to suffer at Naoya’s hands anymore. He hoped he could give you a better life. A life he wanted for his mother that drifted out of the realm of possibility as he got older).
It must have hit Naoya that he could no longer have you, as when he stood up to leave with his father, he turned towards Noritoshi. The anger in posture was unfathomable, the tension in his muscles, the veins corded and visible up his neck.
“Have fun with my seconds.” Naoya’s grin was uncanny and Noritoshi wished he could wipe it from his face. But Noritoshi, ever the perfect successor, succinct and in control, did not show the fight building in his chest. Or that the urge to bind the man to make him suffer grew strong. While Naoya had his speed, Noritoshi felt confident he could manage, he would have to if it meant keeping the Zenin from you.
“Per the contract you have not touched her, do not disparage an esteemed member of the Haijima clan.” Your Father said, whether standing up for you or wanting the Kamo clan to know you had not been sullied. (Which Noritoshi wouldn’t have cared about, whether you willingly slept with Naoya or not. You were his now, you’d be cared for, he knew he could make you happier than the piss color haired man could).
Naoya had the good sense to turn red at that. He glared, fists clenched at his side. Of course, though, he would want the final say. Naoya stopped beside him as he walked out. “I may not have fucked her, but she’s broken, enjoy the unstable bitch. She drinks herself half to death to try to forget about me.”
Noritoshi had plenty he wanted to say or do in response. But he only stared back, level, to show he wasn’t bothered. That he wouldn’t be intimidated by disgusting pettiness, everyone knew Naoya was a monster. But oh, the heir to the Kamo clan thought of the ways he’d pick the Zenin heir apart. How he’d strip him of his blood, gut him, leave him to drown in the blood that once kept life throwing through him.
Disgust was what Noritoshi felt towards his clan and his father for the treatment of his mother. But this sensation was tenfold, it scared him how intense his urge to protect you, someone he did not know, was.
Sharing final words with his father, he was now left alone with your parents. (It said a lot that his own father, the 24th head of the Kamo clan, who was no angel when it came to women, felt disdain towards Naoya’s actions and comments). The quiet was unnatural. The tension in the air and the pressure on his shoulders was apparent. They would judge everything about him from now until an unforeseen date.
“Excuse me.” Anxiety gnawed at Noritoshi as he approached your mother and father. Your mother had been silent the whole time, holding back tears which now flowed. The first thing he noticed was the love between them, your father’s protectiveness over her, the fact they felt so deeply for you. The fact they'd held off a wedding for four years to a Zenin was impressive. Noritoshi’s chest panged with longing.
Bowing close to ninety degrees, he rose, swallowed back his fears and spoke.
“I do not pretend to know all that happened during the engagement, nor can I appease you by saying the Kamo clan will be much better. But I will take care of your daughter if she will let me. It was a pleasure to meet you both.”
He couldn’t bring himself to stay to gauge their reactions. Nor did he want them to feel forced to respond. For all he knew, his words were hollow ones, ones they wouldn’t trust for a long time.
Now, he had to figure out what to do about you. Naoya’s parting words echoed in his head. What and how much damage had that man done to you?
***
“Mom?” Your voice came out hoarse. Struggling to wake, a weighted haze over you. But you would know the presence of your mom anywhere.
“I’m here sweets.” You could tell from the airiness of her voice she’d been crying and was trying to appear joyful. The cracks obvious to you without seeing her, that some days she seemed down trodden, more affected by this all than you. “Be careful sitting up.”
Your body screamed out, aching from lack of use as you pushed yourself to sit up. Your mother’s arms never left you, resituating the pillow, helping you get comfortable. The clothes on your frame were not what you last remembered wearing, they were eerily likened to that of a hospital gown. Surrounding you was a familiar environment you could focus on, finally feeling awake. You were in your faculty dorm on campus, one you stayed at when busy, as you had your own apartment near your University.
“Where’s dad?”
“He left an hour ago for a meeting, he’ll be back tonight.”
Sighing, you took inventory of yourself, then pressed your palms against your brows. In front of your eyes, though blurry as you opened them, was white fabric. It felt like you’d been shocked by lightning. Cold seeped into your veins. Your face fell, warmth fully draining as you realized what would be evident. You looked down. Your wrists absent of long sleeves, with newly changed bandages. “Mom I…”
A weighted silence, a moment and then two. You felt on the precipice, tears moistened your eyes, shame curdling in your gut. Looking down, focusing on your lap, imagining the guilt that would be etched on her face might kill you.
“It’s okay.” She whispered, as if coaxing a scared kitten. “I know things haven’t been easy, I don’t know what to say but that I love you. And it’s over, hopefully things will begin to look up, I’m thinking you should meet with a therapist-”
“Over? What is?” You interrupted.
“Your engagement, it’s off. All paperwork to revoke the prior contracts were signed.”
You stared at her like she’d grown two heads. Her words crashed unto you yet you could not comprehend.
“Really?”
Was this a dream?
“I… Tell me everything.”
Your mother was careful with her words, but succinct as she talked about the meeting that took place. Three days ago. You’d been unconscious for three days and in that time the entirety of your universe changed. The person you turned into, ruled by your sadness and despair, was suddenly free. But you were like the prisoner who spent their life in the dark cave, unwilling to take the risk to go outside. You were unwilling to believe that.
It seemed too easy. Someone like Naoya would not let you go, that much you knew. That was one thing your mother was either too optimistic or too naive about.
But she shied away from one thing. She fidgeted as she talked about the Kamo clan and how they knew for certain you were soulmates. You felt it deep in your core, the shift, the changes. An odd sense of peace, of belonging that hummed incessantly in your ears. Could the blood flowing inside you alter?
“Ah, so I’m going from one man’s property right to another’s.” And wasn’t the Kamo clan just as strict? Traditional? Hard on its members? Perhaps it wasn’t as cruel to its women, but a patriarchy would always have its sins. Just which one would be the lesser of two evils for you…
Your mother’s lips pursed. “I don’t like it put that way. But the Zenin clan had to acknowledge Noritoshi Kamo as your soulmate due to the blood bond-or match-whatever it is, forming.”
“I’m guessing I have to marry him now?”
“Yes and no… He’s a third year student at Kyoto, they would want to wait.”
Alright so you’d dodge marriage for another one-and-a-half to two years, you could work with that.
“What is he like?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. Anxious flurries swarmed in your stomach.
“He was polite to your father and I. He’s been waiting for you to wake up, actually, so he can speak to you.”
“He… He’s still here?”
“Yes. I guess the Kyoto students are here for training, and between his obligations he comes to check on you.”
“I should meet him, shouldn’t I?”
“I’m sure it can wait, everything is happening so quick, you need to rest.”
“Wait-” The gravity of three days unconscious once again smacked you in the face. Three days lost in which you needed to finish translating that tome for a first grade sorcerer’s job. Alarm thrummed through you. “I need to go.”
You ignored both your body’s and your mother’s protests. Flustered, you cared little about the current state of your life, only focused on the job that needed to be finished. That you were behind schedule on. People’s lives could rely on your ability to be prompt and correct. You took on your work with a headstrong disposition to be perfect, helpful. (You knew such mindsets stemmed from how hard and for how long you tried to be perfect for Naoya, only to be beaten down time and time again. So you dug yourself into your work, your other escape that wasn’t alcohol).
In the same bathroom that once bore your blood on its floor, you stared at your reflection. Just the other day you saw a woman with pallid skin and a broken disposition. Dare you say, the girl looking back was well rested with a fire inside her? Silently you thanked your mother for the fact she’d braided your hair whilst you slept, keeping it tamed. It was soft as you combed your fingers through it, telling yourself this was good enough, that you needed to get to your office. Next you changed, throwing something casual on, something comfy, and grabbed a pair of shoes whilst your mother attempted to slow you down.
“Wait, honey!”
“I’ll be back!” You called, fleeing.
If you faced whatever this was, your new life circumstances, you might implode. And that was the last thing you wanted to do, your nervous system in overdrive as you couldn’t, you wouldn’t feel safe for a long time. You’d rather sit in purgatory, not knowing. Always would Naoya be ingrained in you, four years of him haunting you would take time to heal.
Everything hurt, temples pounded, lungs constricted gasping for air. How pathetically weak you were; both physically, emotionally.
Your office was a sanctuary of sorts, shelves of books lined the walls, bins and stacks of parchments, and artifacts shoved in any open space. It was a fine dance, getting to your desk without knocking something over. This place might have looked as if a tornado ripped through it, but you knew it by heart. Which pile of rolled-up scrolls held what. Which book of the hundreds held information on a specific date. Information lived inside of you.
A knock sounded at the door not soon after you finally sat at your desk. Hands trembled from where they gripped the tome, a flicker of panic jolting through you. It’s him, it’s Naoya, he’s going to hurt you–
Another knock, but it was not demanding how Naoya’s were, it was lighter, polite.
“Yes?” The voice that came out did not seem like yours, an octave higher and shaky. Your body grew hot, a sheen of perspiration along the back of your neck.
It felt an eternity, the time between the door opening and the visitor entering.
Your heart skipped a beat, it full on screeched to a halt before thundering back to life. Noritoshi Kamo stepped into your office adorned in his traditionals and he closed the door behind him.
Silence for a beat, then he bowed, an action that threw you off balance. You knew you were older than him, but you hadn’t expected such a show of respect from someone as talented as he.
“You…” The words died on your tongue. Now of all time you hadn’t the slightest clue what to say, your brain felt… blank.
“Good morning,” he spoke your name and it sounded beautiful coming from his lips. “I wanted to formally introduce myself."
“Y-Yes, of course.” Your mind hummed back to life as red flushed along your cheeks. You scurried to stand up, to bow back at him, cursing yourself for seeming so simple, easily confounded. “It is nice to meet you. I apologize for uh… the drama that I’ve caused, my mother filled me in..”
“You’ve caused no drama.” He replied, concise. Noritoshi stood straight as his eyes flickered from you to around your office. Knowing he saw the state of it, made you cringe.
“I’m rather surprised I was out for three days, you see I’m so busy with work, I’m now realizing I need to check in with my classes… Oh.” Fuck, classes, you forgot about those too. Dread bubbled in your gut as you thought of the emails that would be piling up, the missed lessons. “I have so much I need to do-”
“Can I ask you to spare me a little bit of your time then? I promise not to take up much of it.”
The courteous way he asked had you nodding in agreement, it dumbfounded you. You couldn’t bring yourself to say no to the request, especially not when something about him made your body hum in contentment.
“It’s messy in here, uh, let me clear off this chair for you to sit.” You stumbled over both your words and your piles of books. A few two hundred year old books spilled to the ground, a puff of dust surrounding them in the air.
An annoyed noise left your throat. As you bent down to pick them up, Noritoshi was suddenly there, his hand brushing yours as he helped. You hadn’t meant to, but you flinched, your entire body lurched. A reaction you could not control but he saw it anyway, he immediately gave you space.
“I’m so sorry.” You wanted to cry, wanted to get on your knees and tell him you might be broken but you could be a good wife. That eventually your body wouldn’t involuntarily react as if you were about to get hurt. That one day your body and mind would lose all traces of the damage inflicted.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
But didn’t you? Who wanted a woman ruined by another man? Even if you’d never slept with Naoya, you were nothing but damaged goods. Every inch of you splintered, wrenched open into tiny pieces impossible to put back together.
Noritoshi entranced you. His presence commanded your attention in a way that made your eyes glimmer and your heart dare to hope, to pretend you could be normal.
“I wanted to speak with you, to tell you I will not harm you, you don’t have to be anyone or do anything you do not want to. You’ll never have to see me again if that’s what you wish, my clan might not like it but I will stand by your choice. I only want a chance to get to know you and for you to know me.”
Somehow he found a way to leave you speechless once more.
As if the blood in your veins was singing for him, screaming at you to not mess this up, your answer came easier than breathing.
summery: Noritoshi has a secret crush on you but is to scared to tell you, he knows that you love gifts and will give you them in secret just to see you smile
WC: 391
warnings: use of y/n, angst?, fluff
a/n: they are 2nd years in this and y/n is a student at Kyoto, this is from Noritoshi’s pov, lowkey want to make this a full on fanfic, english still isn’t my first language so excuse me for any mistakes
Today is like every other day. I got up at 4 in the morning to practice before everyone else wakes up. I made my tea just like always. Got dressed in my training clothes and took my arrow. I walked onto the field where I could train with all my gear and a water bottle in hand. After practice I go to my dorm and shower. The last thing on my morning routine is going to her door and leaving a gift. Yes the heir of a clan is leaving gifts at their “crushes” door. God how I hate that term, it’s a term middle schoolers use, but I have no better way to describe how I feel for them. I never even thought I could like someone the way I like them.
It all started 1 month ago, I was on a mission with y/n and I got beat up badly. Thankfully y/n was there to save me from getting hurt worse. Usually I’d make fun or judge them since they are always so clumsy and mess up small things, but that day I saw a side of them I never thought I’d see. I fell in love. It’s stupid. I have a reputation to keep and also have to become stronger so I can lead the clan one day. I don’t have time to fall in love. My clan would also hate me for it. So why couldn’t I stop thinking about them all the time?. Why do I blush every time someone mentions their name?. Why can’t I keep eye contact with them?. It’s stupid.
So since I can’t admit my feelings for them, I wanted to at least be able to make them smile. I wanted to feel like I did something to make them happy. I knew they liked getting gifts, so one week ago I started leaving gifts at their door. It’s small things like flowers from our garden, their favourite snacks, a refill of their perfume that was empty. Small things that make them happy. It’s my favourite part of the day. Going past their door to see the smile on their face.
They still don’t have any idea that it’s me but I’m still happy that I get to be the reason they smile, even tho it’s only me who knows.
very small, it was just an idea I had, but I'm too lazy to do the rest!
You were beginning to make amends for your life choices.
You were between two men, five hours in, your body burning, your muscles aching, and fatigue beginning to take over your consciousness. Their arms were the only support you had, and they ached from the effort. Your skin was marked with kisses and bites, sweat mixed with saliva, and you felt Noritoshi's opening against the buttocks.
Your legs were wide open, Choso held the waist, and his own hips made quick, abrupt movements, thrusting his entire length inside while kissing your mouth. The brunette's tongue entered and moved against yours, his teeth nibbling at your lips, leaving them swollen.
Noritoshi was behind, holding your breasts with his hand, his member pressing against your entrance, entering a place little known to you.
God, why did you decide to have sex with the only men who never get tired
