Slate - rskywalker - 呪術廻戦 (2024)

Chapter 1: I. A Trip with Grandpa

Chapter Text

JUNE 2018

“I don’t like this,” you mutter, chewing absentmindedly on a nail as you shake your head. Your unease is practically palpable. “I don’t like this at all.”

You and Gojo are standing just outside of Sugisawa High. He’s the epitome of calm and collected while you’re a nervous wreck.

Typically, you’re also perfectly poised, and level-headed, but not when it comes to Megumi’s safety. Truthfully, you had expected him to have returned with the cursed object by now and you’re becoming more anxious each second you don't hear from him.

“Relax, it’s just a recollection mission,” Satoru says while throwing an arm around you and pulling you towards him. “Don’t forget that Megumi is second-grade and he’s had the best mentors he could ask for. Have a little faith, Katma!”

You frown and reach up to flick Satoru’s forehead. He doesn't have to, but he momentarily drops his Infinity to allow you to dole him with justified violence probably because he knows you don’t appreciate it when he calls you Katma. It's a silly combination of the teenage nickname Gojo adorned you with, Kat, and Mama—therefore, Katma.

Gojo began referring to you as Katma around Megumi and Tsumiki once you practically adopted them and the kids quickly picked it up. The nickname unfortunately stuck and while it might have grown on you over time, that doesn't mean you enjoy hearing it come from Gojo's mouth.

“I know he’s strong, but he’s also only fifteen, Satoru, and this isn’t just any cursed object—this is one of Ryomen f*cking Sukuna’s fingers we’re talking about,” you sigh and rub your temples. “I’m just worried about him. I can practically taste the cursed energy from here.”

Satoru smiles and places a hand between your shoulders, gently rubbing the tense area. “Please, you were already exorcising first-grade curses solo at his age. Also, that reminds me, maybe you’ll finally get a chance to meet Grandpa!”

You roll your eyes and disentangle yourself from Satoru. When he says “Grandpa,” he’s referring to Sukuna. Even though that’s not accurate at all since he died over a millennia ago and you’re certainly not that old. You’re not even in your thirties yet for f*ck’s sake.

Your cursed technique just so happens to be the same one that Sukuna possessed. Unfortunately, that means that the higher-ups believe that you must be a descendant of Sukuna, even if no one had ever heard of him having children. There just wasn’t any other plausible explanation for why you would have his technique.

This determination has been quite the pain in your ass ever since you first became acquainted with the jujutsu world.

“Don’t be an asshole,” you mutter. “Or I might just poison the kikuf*cku you bought.”

Satoru gasps and clutches his take-out bag closer to his chest as if it were a purse, holding a hand to his mouth in faux horror. “You wouldn’t dare!”

You level him with a flat look and grumble out, “You know me better than anyone. I certainly would dare.”

You lean against the school building you’re standing near and exhale a deep breath and close your eyes in an attempt to will away some of your anxiety. No more than a second passes by before you can hear Gojo’s light foot steps approach.

“If you’re that worried about Megumi, let’s go ahead and check on him,” Satoru says with a more sincere smile on his face as he lays a comforting hand on your shoulder. He ruins the sincerity by shoving a finger in your face. “But! I don’t wanna hear you whining when he’s giving you the cold shoulder because Mommy forced her way onto his solo mission.”

“Eugh,” You slap his finger out of your face and pretend to gag. “I’d rather you call me Katma than Mommy!”

Gojo breezily waves a hand in your direction. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s go check on the kid,” he says as he struts closer to the school and easily walks over the gate.

Blindfolded bastard.

As soon as you hop over the gate, there’s a concerningly loud boom that echoes through the air. You and Satoru have known each other long enough that you don’t need to exchange any words before you’re both sprinting towards the noise and the sickeningly strong cursed energy that’s emanating from the roof.

Gojo effortlessly walks up the side of the building while you take the time to back up a few feet so you can gain momentum. Enforcing your legs with cursed energy, you move towards the building and quickly dash up its side.

You can hear Satoru calmly ask, “What’s the situation?”

You sigh audibly in relief. That must mean that Megumi is at least alive.

Just as you’re scaling the guardrail, you hear Megumi ask, “Huh, Satoru Gojo?”

You kick off the guardrail and tuck and roll until you maneuver yourself into a kneeling position before Megumi. He shakes his head in disbelief and furrows his brow even further. “Katma?!”

“Hi, sweetheart,” you say with a smile as you ruffle his hair and rise to your full height.

“Show-off,” Gojo playfully mutters as he makes his way to stand next to you.

You lightly push him and scoff. “Spare me. I’m not the one that justwalked up the f*cking building like a little freak.”

Megumi looks between you two with that familiar look of exasperation. “What are you two doing here?”

“Hey, I wasn’t planning on showing up, but Kat insisted,” Gojo takes a moment to look at Megumi further. “And you got kind of roughed up, kid.”

You bend down to inspect Megumi further. He does look roughed up. In fact, he looks like sh*t. You place a light hand on his cheek and begin to use reverse cursed technique to heal him. Megumi doesn’t even try to swat away your hand as he knows it’s a battle he would certainly lose and even though he won't admit it, you can tell that he already feels substantially better.

Gojo’s easy smile turns into a grin. “How cute! I’ll show the second-years. Say cheese!” Satoru begins to snap a ridiculous amount of pictures as he manically laughs.

You flick your free hand out into a peace sign and pose for the camera as you continue to heal Megumi who is visibly displeased with his picture being taken. Satoru eventually ceases his camera assault and tucks his phone back into his pocket.

“We got an earful from the higher-ups ‘cause this special grade cursed object’s still missing. Thought we’d do a little sightseeing and stop by,” Gojo says. You shoot him a grateful smile since he doesn't mention that you're mainly here to check in on Megumi. “So, did you find it yet?”

Megumi deeply sighs which causes you to furrow your brow in concern.

“Hm?” Satoru hums in return, picking up on Megumi’s wariness, too.

“Sorry,” You turn to see a shirtless, pink-haired boy holding up his hand. “But I ate that thing.”

What the f*ck?

“Really?” Satoru asks in a flat voice, smile now strained.

Almost simultaneously, Megumi says, “He did,” as the boy affirms, “I did.”

Their tones are laughably different.

You whip your head back and forth between the Finger Chomper and Megumi, taking in both of their facial expressions. Unable to tame your curiosity, you gesture towards FC and ask, “What did it taste like?”

Megumi groans and knocks his head back in frustration.

FC seems to ponder for a moment as he strokes his chin. He smiles and points to you with an ‘Aha!’ expression. “Kind of like an old leather boot!”

“Huh, interesting,” you reply as you nod thoughtfully. You really do find it interesting…and gross.

Megumi buries his face into your shoulder and you can feel his sigh through your uniform. “Why does he know what an old leather boot tastes like?”

Gojo tilts his head at FC. “Hm?”

He moves closer to the boy and completely invades his personal space as he inspects him with those peepers of his. This kid must really think that Satoru is a freak by now, which wouldn’t be an inaccurate statement.

”Hmm,” Satoru hums again and suddenly chuckles. “Damn, it really did combine with you. That’s hilarious. Anything weird about your body?”

FC blinks at him. “No, it seems okay.”

You notice the gears already turning in Gojo’s head. “Can you swap with Sukuna at will?”

Oh no.

“Satoru Gojo,” you grind out, glaring at his back.

“Sukuna?” the boy asks with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, the curse you ate?” Gojo responds.

“Oh, mm-hmm, yeah,” FC affirms as he nods. “I think I can do that.”

“Satoru, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” you demand as you stand up straight, rolling your shoulders back as you step in front of Megumi.

Gojo stretches his unnecessarily long legs as he grins over at you.

“C’mon, Kat. Megumi will be fine! It’s only one finger after all and we’re both here. There’s zero danger. I just wanna test something out,” Gojo pleads.

You sigh and rub a hand down your face as you consider his words.

"Plus, wouldn’t you love to meet your grandpa? Actually, forget that I said that last part," he quickly amends when he notices the clenching of your jaw. Satoru tilts his head and you just know that he’s making big, pleading eyes at you when he suddenly drops to his knees and clutches your hands between his. “Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease—”

“Okay, fine!” you concede, shaking his grabby mitts off.

“Yay!” Gojo grins as he walks back over to FC, stretching his limbs out on the way. “Okay, give us ten seconds then change right back into yourself.”

The boy looks unconvinced. “Yeah, but…”

Saturo laughs. “Don’t worry. I’m way too strong for him. Megumi, hold onto this for me,” he says as he tosses his take-out bag from earlier at the raven-haired boy.

Megumi gracefully catches it from his seated position and peers down at the bag. “So what is this?”

“Kikuf*cku from Kikusuian. It’s Sendai’s specialty and it’s super good,” Gojo croons. “I recommend the zunda and cream flavor.”

Megumi stares down at the bag in blatant outrage and disbelief. Heh, the zunda and cream flavor is your favorite, too.

“It’s no souvenir,” Gojo says as he points a finger in the air. “Kat and I will be eating this on the bullet train ride home.”

Suddenly, a crack of thunder booms through the sky and you spot the figure of a man descending from the clouds towards Gojo.

Megumi tenses next to your leg, subconsciously wrapping his hands around your calf, and shouts, “Look out!”

Unlike Megumi, you don’t have to worry as much about Satoru's safety since he's even stronger than you are.

“Kikuf*cku’s just the best,” Gojo says, dreamily.

As the dust from the man’s landing settles, you spot Gojo sitting on top of who you assume to be Sukuna, judging from the tattoos and the extra set of eyes.

That's your alleged ancestor in the flesh, then? Great.

The bewildered expression Sukuna’s sporting makes you smile and you can’t help but let out a laugh. “I think it’s the whipped cream inside that really makes the difference.”

Sukuna darts out from underneath Satoru and attempts to land a punch which the white-haired man easily catches.

Sukuna continues to throw futile punches that never land when, in a display of truly egotistical behavior, Satoru leans against Sukuna’s back and tilts his head towards the King of Curses. “Since a pretty lady and my student are both watching, I think I’ll show off a little. Yeah?”

As arrogant as Gojo is, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him charming.

The scuffle continues with Satoru flitting around the ancient beast when he finally blasts Sukuna across the roof.

“For crying out loud,” Sukuna grits out as he begins sprinting towards you all. “You jujutsu sorcerers are always such a pain in the ass in any era.”

He launches an impressive blow that causes rubble to fly out all around you. Well, it would’ve been impressive if he wasn’t fighting the strongest sorcerer of the modern age.

“Though time doesn’t really have much meaning for me,” Sukuna drawls out.

You can hear the smugness in Sukuna’s voice and can’t help the chuckle that tears from your throat when he sees that Gojo is effortlessly holding the debris back with his infinity.

“Seven, eight, nine,” Gojo counts with a smile. “And that should do it.”

Sukuna’s bewildered expression is priceless. Ha, you wish you had thought to take a video.

As Sukuna freezes, you note that his tattoos are fading away along with his consciousness. He slightly sways before his head snaps up, but now the same friendly boy from earlier appears once again. “Oh, how did it go?”

If it wasn’t Sukuna that was inhabiting him, the situation would be almost amusing to you.

“Ha, how about that?” Gojo says as he allows the rubble to harmlessly fall to the ground. “So you really can control that guy.”

FC is lightly slapping at his head as if he’s trying to swat away a bug. “He’s kind of annoying to tell the truth and I keep hearing his voice.”

Gojo walks back over to the pink-haired boy. “It’s a miracle that’s all he’s doing to you.”

He reaches out with two fingers, lightly taps FC on the forehead, and gracefully catches the boy’s abruptly unconscious form.

“What’d you do to him?” Megumi asks.

“I just knocked him out,” Satoru answers. “If he isn’t possessed by Sukuna when he wakes up, then he might have potential as a vessel.”

Gojo smirks at you before shifting his attention to Megumi. “Now I have a question for you. What do you think we should do with him?”

Megumi looks up at you from his place on the ground. You offer an encouraging smile and bend down to lightly cup his face. “Satoru asked you, Megumi. I trust you’ll make the right decision.”

Megumi leans into your touch for a moment and nods before turning towards Gojo. “Well, even if he is a vessel, jujutsu regulations demand Itadori be executed,” he says before pausing. “However, I don’t want him to die.”

“Personal?” Gojo wonders aloud.

“I suppose,” Megumi relents. His gaze flickers between you and Satoru. “So can you save him?”

Satoru chuckles. “A request from a precious student?” He flashes a grin and a thumbs-up as he slugs the Itadori boy over his shoulder. “Leave it to us.”

This is certainly an unprecedented and potentially dangerous situation you’ve found yourselves in. Despite that, you’ll do anything to protect innocent lives and ensure that Megumi is happy, even if that also means threatening the jujutsu elders into submission.

Although, with how you feel about the higher-ups, that’s honestly just the icing on the cake.

Chapter 2: II. Ghost of Christmas Past

Chapter Text

JUNE 2018

“Is everyone forgetting that Itadori is just a child?” you question incredulously. The atmosphere within the chamber is incredibly tense. You and Satoru have been arguing back and forth with the higher-ups for much longer than you would’ve liked. “You wouldn’t be executing him; you would be murdering him.”

“Itadori might be a child, but he is still Sukuna’s vessel,” says one of the anonymous higher-ups. “Jujutsu regulations clearly state that he be executed. You both know this. I don’t know how many more times it needs to be said,” the voice sighs. “It’s best that you leave your personal feelings out of this, f*ckkatshi.”

You grind your teeth and remove your sunglasses so you can pinch the bridge of your nose out of frustration. It’s taking all of your self-control to keep your voice and cursed energy down.

“I’ll leave my personal feelings out of this when we’re not discussing the life of an innocent boy,” you grit out, slowly striding over towards the area the voice sounds from. You shove your sunglasses back on and fold your arms across your chest. “I think it’s best that you all garner some semblance of courage and cease this pathetic display of cowardice. ”

Even though you’ve been serving the jujutsu community for well over a decade, many of the higher-ups still regard you as a criminal—which is preposterous as you haven’t committed any (major) crimes since you were eleven years old! Combine your past delinquency with your rumored Sukuna lineage and it’s almost impossible to get them to listen to you.

Luckily for you (and unfortunately for them), you have the privilege of Golden Boy Gojo being on your side. Angering you? A nightmare. Angering you and Gojo? That’s a catastrophe.

That’s why you’re a little more than shocked that you’re receiving so much pushback on this Itadori issue. Sure, you normally have to argue with the old geezers, but usually, the elders would have conceded by now. Sukuna has been back on this planet for less than a full twenty-four hours and just his existence alone is already wreaking havoc on your life.

Satoru comes up behind you and places a hand on your shoulder. “Our Kat is just so passionate, isn’t she?” he asks with a smile evident in his voice.

“Petulant is what I would call it.”

As Satoru feels you tense under his hand, he rambles along as if the anonymous elder didn’t speak. “Luckily for you all, I have thought of the perfect compromise! I propose that we postpone Itadori’s execution until he has the chance to consume all twenty of Sukuna’s fingers, and then we execute him!” There are whispers amongst the elders at Satoru’s suggestion. “We’d be idiots to not take advantage of the situation. When is another vessel strong enough to contain Sukuna going to come along? Think about it.”

As the whispers turn into murmurs, Satoru gently squeezes your shoulder. You lift a hand to softly rest on top of his and squeeze back. You can tell that Satoru is scheming something, but you trust him without hesitation.

Abruptly, the chatter halts. A different voice sounds out, loud and commanding. “Very well. Yuji Itadori’s execution will be postponed until he absorbs all twenty of Ryomen Sukuna’s fingers and not a moment longer. Gojo and f*ckkatshi will maintain responsibility for the boy while he lives.”

Satoru grins. “Excellent choice.”

✧ ✧ ✧

After finalizing expectations with the higher-ups, you escort Megumi back to Jujutsu High while Gojo accompanies Itadori in Sugisawa, allowing the boy to pay his respects to his grandfather and attend to any loose ends he may have.

You’re sitting on the floor by Megumi’s bed, leaning against the frame and staring up at the ceiling. Even though you’ve fully healed him and also forced Shoko to check him out, you can’t seem to leave his side. You almost lost Megumi because of what was supposed to be a simple recollection mission. If Itadori hadn’t eaten the finger, would you and Satoru have arrived in time to save him? You feel ill as you run through the possibilities.

Just as you’re about to spiral, Megumi stirs and you quickly push down your anxiety. You refuse to cause him any unnecessary stress. Megumi rises to sit up in his bed and looks down at you on the floor.

“Katma, why are you on the floor?” Megumi questions as he swings his legs over the side of the bed.

“Megi, how are you feeling?” you ask, side-stepping Megumi’s question.

Megumi winces from the nickname. “I thought I asked you to stop calling me that. I’m not a child anymore.”

He’ll always be a child to you no matter what age he is, especially when he still calls you Katma.

“You did,” you say with a smile as you rise to your feet and ruffle his hair. “I elected to deny your request.”

Just as Megumi opens his mouth to retort, you hear Gojo’s voice outside. Megumi rolls his eyes. He mutters something under his breath and stands up to cross the distance to his bedroom door.

“-agreement there,” You catch the tail-end of Satoru’s sentence as Megumi opens the door. You lean against the wall next to Megi’s doorframe and smile as you see Itadori come into view behind Gojo.

“You’re next door,” Megumi grumbles as he scratches the back of his head.

“Hey, Fushiguro!” Itadori cheerfully greets him. “Wow, you look all better now,” Itadori turns from Megumi to you and returns your waiting smile with his own. “f*ckkatshi, it’s so great to see you again!”

“You too, kid. How did your meeting with Yaga go?” you ask and watch Itadori’s smile go flat.

“I didn’t realize those cute little plushies would be so dangerous,” Itadori mumbles as he scratches his neck. “It went well, though! I think…”

You laugh. You still have the cursed corpse plushie Yaga created specially for you back when you were a child. It sits on a shelf next to your bedroom door and serves as an excellent security system so you’re sure that Itadori received quite the unexpected fight.

“There’s lots of other empty rooms, you know?” Megumi grouses. You sigh. He’s truly such a teenager.

“Sure, but isn’t it better to have some company?” Gojo cheerfully asks, leaning down towards Megumi. “I thought it’d be good—”

“Classes and missions are enough,” Megi interrupts defensively. “This is not welcome.”

“Whoa, it’s so organized in here,” Itadori says as he leans past you to poke his head into Megumi’s room.

“Back off,” Megi spits out. “I just told you, you’re not welcome!” Megumi punctuates the statement by slamming the door on Itadori’s head.

“No slamming doors on your new neighbor’s head,” you admonish and lightly flick Megumi’s ear, causing an embarrassed flush to run across his cheeks.

“Ha, friends already,” Gojo muses. “And together we’re heading out tomorrow. We’re going to go pick up the third and final first-year.”

Itadori shifts his head expectantly towards you. “Does that mean you’re also coming, f*ckkatshi?”

You smile apologetically. “Unfortunately not. I’m actually leaving for a mission in about…” you pause as you look down at the clock on your phone and click your tongue. “...five minutes and I probably won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh, okay,” Itadori mumbles, eyes shifting to the floor.

Gojo leans down on both of your shoulders and rests his head on top of yours. “Don’t fear, Itadori, Kat will have plenty of free time to spend with us now that her third-years are suspended!”

“Woah, suspended? You must be pissed, right?” Itadori asks, wide eyes meeting yours.

You chuckle. Kinji Hakari and Kirara Hoshi—the two delinquents are most certainly your karmic punishment for the sh*t you put Yaga through when you were a kid. “We all f*ck up sometimes. I’m more upset that Hakari let his anger get the best of him,” you say as you sigh. Hakari sorely reminds you of yourself Pre-Yaga. That means you know all too well that everyone needs to learn that their actions have consequences, which is precisely why you hadn’t interfered with his or Kirara’s suspension. “Kid’s got so much potential. I’d hate to see him waste it.”

“So true,” Gojo nods, still using you to prop himself up. “Anyway, Itadori here seems to have a propensity towards hand-to-hand combat,” he says, leaning back and pulling you against his chest. “And I told him that he wouldn’t find a better teacher than you, Kat.”

“Hmmm, do you really mean that or are you just dumping some of your workload off on me?” you question as you lean your head up to see Gojo’s wide grin above you.

“Both can be true,” he admits as he wraps his arms tighter around your shoulders.

You playfully roll your eyes and slip out of Satoru’s grasp.

“It would be an honor to learn from you, f*ckkatshi,” Itadori says as he bows to you.

“You won’t be as excited when you’re crying for mercy,” Megi says, rubbing his ear from where you had flicked him. “Katma is brutal.”

You bark out a laugh. “I prefer to call it tough love,” You turn towards the pink-haired boy with a pleasant expression. “I’m looking forward to it, Itadori, but I really need to take off now. Ijichi is probably ready to tear his hair out,” As if on cue, you feel your phone vibrate and look down to see a text from Ijichi himself. “I’ll see you all tomorrow evening. Safe travels!”

You take a moment to ruffle both Megumi’s and Satoru’s hair. You grin widely and offer the three boys a final wave before turning on your heel to meet Ijichi.

✧ ✧ ✧

You dissolve the Veil as your eyes land on Kiyotaka sitting in the driver’s seat of the car, forehead resting on the steering wheel. You sigh and glance down at your phone. It’s almost three in the morning.

The mission hadn’t gone as smoothly as you had hoped it would.

It was supposed to just be a handful of first and second-grade curses roaming around the decrepit hospital. Obviously, the mission was below your skill level, but you’d accepted it because you assumed you’d finish early and you could take advantage of the paid accommodations. You had been way too excited to drag Ijichi out to enjoy the city’s nightlife so you could force him to socialize with people other than arrogant sorcerers.

However, luck was not on your side that night because you ended up exorcising a whole sports team's worth of curses along with their special-grade captain. A newly evolved special grade curse, you determined, because once you exorcised it, you were left with another one of Sukuna’s damned fingers.

You softly knock on the driver’s side door of the car and Ijichi startles slightly before relaxing at the sight of you, unlocking the passenger door.

“Kat,” Ijichi starts as you slip into the seat next to him. He glances at his watch and grimaces. “You were gone a lot longer than I expected. Everything alright?”

Sighing, you buckle yourself into the seat and rub a hand down your dirt-smudged face. “Yeah, but this report is going to be a pain in the ass. Along with a dozen second and third-grades, there turned out to be eleven first-grade curses and an unregistered special-grade. Some earth-based curse if you couldn’t tell,” you say as you gesture to the thick layer of dirt coating your entire body. “I’m thankful it didn’t show its face until I’d already exorcised the others or else I might’ve been in some actual trouble there.”

Kiyotaka gapes at you in horror. “So you exorcised twenty-four curses? The directive said it was just supposed to be three second-grades and two first-grades!”

“I know,” you say as you chew on your bottom lip. “That’s not the worst part, either,” you continue as you dig the finger out of your pocket and raise it to show Ijichi. “That special-grade was bearing one of Sukuna’s fingers,” You turn the finger over in your hand and have to repress a shudder from the energy that it exudes. “Bet it’s the reason why I got that welcome party from Hell.”

Ijichi visibly pales a shade. “Please put that thing away.”

You oblige his request. “I don’t know what’s going on lately, but I don’t like it,” You rub your tired eyes and yawn. “I think it’s tomorrow’s problem, though. Let’s just head back to the hotel. I’m f*cking exhausted.”

“Of course,” Ijichi nods as he starts the car.

You stare at the hospital until it fades from view, mind still uneasy.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Goodnight, Kiyotaka,” you say as you wave at him. “See you in the morning.”

“Sleep well, Kat.” Ijichi smiles at you and disappears behind his door.

You slip into your own hotel room across from his. You slide your phone out of your jacket pocket to pull up your message thread with Satoru.

You, 3:11 AM: You up?

Satoru, 3:12 AM: Are you trying to booty call me, Kat? ;)

You roll your eyes and dial Satoru’s number.

“That eager, huh?” Satoru teases as soon as the call connects.

You dryly laugh into the phone as you put it on speaker. “You’re hilarious,” you deadpan as you hear Satoru’s giggles through the phone. “Listen, we just got back from that curse-infested hospital—”

“You’re just now getting back? Surprised it took you that long,” Satoru interrupts. His tone is still teasing, but you can hear the note of concern bleed through.

“Stop interrupting and put your listening ears on, dummy,” you demand as you roll your eyes. “Yes, it took me that long because I had to exorcise nineteen surprise curses including an unregistered f*cking special-grade,” you retort.

A beat of silence. “Damn. Whoever scouted that mission out seriously needs to work on their investigation skills.”

You sigh. “The more I think about it, the more I think it’s not their fault because guess what?” you ask in a sing-song voice as you slip Sukuna’s finger out of your pants pocket. You turn it over in your hands and shiver as that now familiar jolt of energy stings your palm. “That special-grade had eaten one of Sukuna’s fingers.”

You hear Satoru quietly inhale on the phone. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirm and slip the finger into a small sealed pouch and tuck it safely within your pack. “I don’t want to sound paranoid, Satoru, but something feels off about this whole thing.”

“Yeah, it feels off to me, too, but I promise that we’ll figure it out,” Satoru says. “For now, just try to get some rest. I know you must be dead on your feet. I’ll see you later today, okay?” Satoru’s voice is so pacifying that you almost wonder if he somehow learned cursed speech.

“Okay,” you murmur into the phone. “Goodnight, Satoru.”

“Sleep well, Kat.”

You smile at the softness of Satoru’s voice and promptly hang up, setting your phone down to charge for the night.

Even though you want nothing more than to snuggle into the cozy bed that awaits you, you know you need to shower since you’re caked in a disgusting mixture of dirt, blood, and sweat. You rummage through your bag until you come across the black yoga pants and tank top you packed for the trip and head into the en-suite bathroom for a much-deserved shower.

✧ ✧ ✧

You practically feel like a brand new person once you’ve almost finished your nighttime routine. You quietly hum a song you heard on the radio earlier as you tidy your hair until you’re satisfied. Slipping your hair products back into your toiletries bag, you give yourself one last once-over in the mirror and reach towards the bathroom door.

You freeze.

You would never mistake the cursed energy that’s gently stirring outside of the door, but there’s no way he’s actually out there.

You’re just exhausted, that’s all.

You creak open the door and immediately want to collapse.

“Hi, Kat.”

You start furiously shaking your head and back up.

“You’re dead,” you quietly say.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but please just listen.”

“I know he’s dead. I held his corpse in my arms,” you say as you point an accusing finger towards the figure. “So who are you?”

“Kat, it’s me. It’s Suguru Geto.”

You want to vomit. Sitting on the edge of your bed is some imposter claiming to be your old friend. You almost begin to wonder if you’re having some sort of mental break from all of the stress and fatigue.

“I don’t believe you,” you state, glaring hard at the imposter. “Suguru is dead! Now, tell me who the f*ck you are before I paint this room with your blood,” you growl out as you lunge into an offensive position, hands ready to attack at any moment.

“Please, Kat,” the ghost of your friend says as they raise their palms towards you. The hurt expression on their face is enough to make you wince. “Please just listen.”

God, they sound just like him—the same soft, soothing tone, but it can’t be him. It’s too good to be true. It’s a trick. An awful and beautiful and horrible trick.

“If you’re truly Suguru Geto, then tell me something only he would know,” you challenge, not relaxing a muscle.

The ghost slowly walks towards you with their hands still in the air like they’re approaching a feral animal. “We were in a hotel sort of like this once, do you remember?” They pause in front of you, eyes soft. “I met you there after I left Jujutsu High and you begged me to run away with you. We could go anywhere I wanted, you said. You told me it didn’t matter what I’d done. You told me that you loved me. You kissed me,” they recall as they wrap their hands around one of your own and guide it to the side of their face. “But I still left and I spent the rest of my life missing you.”

Your eyes threaten to flutter shut in response. His skin is so warm beneath your palm, unlike the last time you’d held his face. You’ve never divulged the full details of your last meeting with Suguru to another soul besides Satoru, so that must mean…

It’s really him.

“Suguru,” you whisper. You try to will away the tears pricking at your eyes.

Suguru smiles and wraps his other hand around yours, kissing it softly.

You can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around him, squeezing so hard that you know it’s painful. After a brief moment, he reciprocates your embrace. The tears you tried to prevent are flowing freely now as you bury your face into his chest, undoubtedly soaking through the fabric of his robe. He quietly mumbles something into your hair, but you can’t make out what he’s saying through your sobs.

“I’ve missed you so much,” you manage to say. You eventually pull back to look up at him. “How are you here right now? You were dead, Suguru. Dead. Does Satoru know? Shoko?”

Suguru thumbs away the tears on your cheeks. “So many questions,” he muses as he twirls a strand of your hair around his finger. “Everything will be explained in time. For now, you really should rest, f*ckkatshi.”

You tilt your head at him and furrow your eyebrows, eyes narrowing. Hm?

Right as you’re about to pull away from him, Suguru steps back and softly shoves you forward. You’re opening your mouth to question Suguru’s behavior when you feel something uncomfortably reminiscent of flesh violently pierce into several points of your body. You grunt as you’re forced into a kneeling position and whip your head around to find dark red flesh now tethering you into place.

“Suguru, what the hell is this?” you demand as you scan the mass that’s suddenly surrounded you, looking for any possible method of escape. You need to get ahold of the situation and fast. “Why are you doing this? What's happened?”

“Goodnight, f*ckkatshi,” Suguru says, gleefully waving. He flashes a grin you’ve never seen from him before as he looks down at you. “Gate, close.”

You try to writhe as violently as you can as the fleshy mass begins to close in all around you, but the attempt is in vain—you’re too weak. Whatever you’ve been skewered by has drained almost all of your strength.

You’re truly and utterly trapped.

Your gaze flits to Suguru’s and you desperately search his eyes for the man who was once so dear to you, not believing that he would ever betray you in such a way.

You gasp as your world plummets into complete darkness.

No.

You’ve accepted it far too late.

It’s not really him.

Chapter 3: III. Down Memory Lane

Chapter Text

JUNE 2018

It’snotreallyhimit’snotreallyhimit’snotreallyhim.

It wasn’t really him.

You maintain an inhuman level of stillness atop the mountain of assorted skeletons and bones.

Well, duh, it wasn't really him! How much of an idiot are you? You knew it all along, but you still allowed your grief to blind you because you so desperately wanted it to be him. You bite out a bitter laugh. Utterly pathetic.

You want to rage, you want to break things, but you won’t. You’ll be patient. Eventually, you'll escape this place and when you do, you’ll guarantee you enact your revenge. Better to preserve your strength for the battle ahead. However, to escape you'll need to figure out where you are first.

You rise from your seated position to survey the area and hopefully uncover the exit of this macabre place, but all you can see are bones. Just f*cking bones. And darkness. A whole lotta that, too. Bones and darkness. Darkness and bones. Blegh.

“Ugh, this f*cking sucks!” you groan out and permit yourself to fall backward onto your throne of bones, massaging your temples as you endeavor to deduce where you might be. You attempt to focus on the details of your shameful capture. "I couldn’t employ my technique while I was ensnared and I felt depleted of my strength,” you recall aloud. “The snare was constructed of some red-hued, fleshy...flesh,” you continue lamely as you wrinkle your nose at the memory. You scan the area again. “I’m surrounded by literal death and I can’t find anywhere to escape.”

You sigh and roll onto your stomach, resting your chin on your knuckles. “What was it that Not-Geto said?” you question as you furrow your brow, replaying the scene in your head.

“Goodnight, f*ckkatshi,” Suguru said, gleefully waving. He flashed a grin you’d never seen from him before as he looked down at you. “Gate, close.”

“Gate, close?” you mutter. Suddenly, your eyes widen as you feel a prickling sensation of recognition. Maybe you already know where you are after all—perhaps you had read some obscure passage in a textbook once? “Gate, close. Gate, close. Gate, close,” you recite, standing up to pace back and forth.

The solution is on the tip of your tongue, but it seems that you’ll have to thoroughly dust off the corners of your memory. You sigh in frustration and press your fingers to your eyelids. Maybe you should have remained a little criminal all those years ago. Sure, you might’ve been in prison by now, but that would be better than this-

Your head snaps up.

“Prison,” you whisper as your eyes dart around again. “Prison…world? Prison world. No, that doesn’t sound right,” you continue as you bite your thumb, almost drawing blood when you finally recall the term in its entirety. “Prison Realm! Prison Realm?” you murmur. “Prison Realm. Where do I know that from?” You cycle through your thoughts to no avail. It’s a miracle you even remember the name, which doesn’t really help, anyway. “Prison Realm, huh? They mentioned a gate before so it must be hiding around here somewhere. But where?”

You sigh and sit back down, combing a hand through your hair as anxiety-riddled thoughts begin to bombard your mind. Will Megumi think I abandoned him if I don’t come back?

You know that Satoru will keep him safe in your absence, but you fear that your sudden disappearance might cause Megumi to relive trauma from his father. You would never leave him by choice, but you’re not there to reassure him of that. And what about Satoru? How will he feel? It’s barely been six months since Suguru died. How will losing another close friend affect him? How will everyone else feel? Yaga? Shoko? Yuki? Kento? Your students—?

You don’t notice that you’ve torn a lock of your hair out until it falls into your lap. You have no clue how much time has passed since you’ve been trapped within the Prism Realm, but it feels like it could be either a millisecond or a millennium. Does time pass differently here?

You grunt and clench your hands at your sides. It appears that you know jack sh*t about jack sh*t. There are too many unknowns at play for your inquisitive mind. At this rate, you’ll lose your marbles entirely even if you do manage to escape. No, you will escape with all your remaining marbles accounted for—one way or another. You have too many people that depend on you back home. You will not disappoint them. You refuse to.

Breathe. You just need to calm down and think. You're always reading—surely, you have some other little scrap of knowledge tucked away that could lead to your freedom, but you can't think clearly while you're so flustered. Closing your eyes, you inhale slowly as you cross your legs and brush your fingertips together, connecting them in front of your face. You exhale as your eyes flit open. “Domain Expansion: Shrouded Altar.”

You hum in relief once your surroundings warp into your familiar domain, a sense of calm already washing over you. Your domain is entirely devoid of any and all color, white as pure snow and just as cold, and is relatively barren. Satoru had once called it unsettling when you graciously allowed him entry—which feels kind of ironic coming from the man possessing a domain called Infinite Void. His domain is far more unsettling than yours. You would describe your domain as elegant, tasteful, and refined. Not unsettling at all.

“Hm, so I can still expand my domain here," you affirm as you shrug. "I'll take the win.”

You stride toward the center of your domain and ascend the steps that lead to the altar where the empty funeral shroud rests. You swiftly swing your legs over on top of the altar and lie down with your arms at your sides, drawing your eyes shut once more as you begin to meditate.

You exhale deeply and then inhale. Exhale and inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

Exhale.

✧ ✧ ✧

JANUARY 2001

Over the top of your book, you spotted the tall man leaning against the side of the haberdashery, seemingly lost in his phone call. Easy target.

The store he was pressed against was one that you knew to be on the pricey side and if he could afford that flip-phone and those designer sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, you were sure you’d find plenty of cash in his wallet.

Cramming your novel into your pack, you pushed off the bench you’d been resting on and crossed the street. You waited until a thick throng of people surged by the man and quickly shambled in. As the crowd passed him, you twisted sideways and purposefully collapsed at his feet.

Winters were always easier to pull off this particular scam since there were usually patches of ice or snow to conveniently “slip” on.

You wailed as you hauled yourself into a sitting position and rubbed your knee, a deep frown on your face. The man looked down at you in surprise before muttering a few words and snapping his phone shut. He knelt to be at eye level with you. “Are you okay? Do you need some help up?”

You peered up at him wide-eyed as you began to sniffle and nodded, holding your palm out to the man. He gingerly grasped your hand as he tugged you to your feet and then rested both of his hands on your shoulders.

“Are your parents around, kid?” he questioned as he glanced around the area.

Heh.

Abruptly, you perked up as you gazed far into the overflowing populace. “There’s my mom!” you exclaimed, pointing at a cluster of people on the other side of the street.

The man squinted and attempted to follow your finger. You smiled your most endearing grin at him. “Thanks for your help, sir!”

Without further ceremony, you wiggled out of the man’s grasp and skipped along the crosswalk.

You were almost on the other side of the street when you heard a deafening, “GET BACK HERE, KID!” boom out.

Oh, sh*t. You broke out into a sprint and began dodging people left and right as you darted into a random alley and leaped over the chain-link fence that was more than double your height. You didn’t dare to linger, though, and continued running until you made it to the end of the alley. Hoisting yourself up onto the fire escape of the adjacent apartment building, you clambered up until you reached the roof.

Smiling, you shimmied your hard-earned winnings out of your bag and emptied the wallet. Your smile quickly fell when you realized that the man wasn't carrying any cash. C'mon, dude.

The wallet didn’t contain much at all, actually—a driver’s license, a faculty ID card, and a few black credit cards. Huffing, you tossed the wallet back into your pack and leaned against the roof’s railing.

“Nice try,” a deep voice suddenly sounded. You whipped your head up to find the man you robbed staring at you with his mouth set in a firm line. He held his hand out. “But I’m gonna need that back.”

Your stomach lurched. Most people would've given up by now. You had never encountered anyone fast or agile enough to catch up to you until this asshole came along. Your heart began to pound before you forced yourself to relax. No, you weren’t about to get caught after a three-year winning streak. Not a chance in hell, old man.

You bolted towards the opposite side of the roof, not slowing down as you neared the railing when you began to hear concerned protests from the man behind you. “Hey, kid, stop! I’m not going to hurt you! Don’t jump—!”

Jumping over the railing, you soared through the air until your feet made contact with the roof of the next building over and rolled into a kneeling position. Risking a glance over your shoulder, you found the man gaping at you in amazement. You smirked at him and waved, lazily rising to your feet.

Just as you were about to leisurely stroll off, you stared in horror as the man jumped across the same gap. The distance between the two buildings was easily twenty feet. Had you accidentally pick-pocketed an Olympic athlete on steroids?

“How—how?” you stuttered out as you backed away from the man. “Hey, listen, I’m—I’m real sorry about that, sir,” you apologized, yanking the wallet out of your pack and quickly tossing it over to the man. “There! I didn’t even take anything! We good now?”

The Roided Olympian smoothly caught the wallet and quickly carded through its contents. Satisfied, he placed the wallet into his jacket pocket as he turned back to look at you, and opened his mouth to reply when two moths unexpectedly materialized behind him.

Well, moth-like. These monsters were as big as toddlers and sported glistening fangs with flicking, barbed tails that were begging to slit someone’s throat as they descended toward the man.

“Look out!” you cried as you pointed towards the creatures. Instincts took over as you shoved the man out of the way causing him to stumble to the ground. Heart pounding with adrenaline, you lept in front of him and held your hands out towards the Freaky Moths.

“Kid, no—” the man began, panic in his voice, but the words died in his throat as the flying creatures tumbled to the ground in shreds. He leaned back on the heels of his hands and stared at the dissected beasts in disbelief.

You pivoted back to find the man on the ground and did a double-take once you followed his gaze. Excitedly, you extended a hand towards him and beamed. “Wait, you can see them, too?”

The man slowly nodded as he accepted your hand and permitted you to effortlessly haul him to his feet.

You had truly and utterly confounded the man. You couldn’t have been any older than twelve, but you possessed greater physical prowess than any of Japan’s top athletes and you had just decimated two semi-first-grade curses (with a cursed technique eerily similar to an infamous sorcerer's) without even flinching.

You could at least be classified as a Grade 1 sorcerer and you were a literal child.

“I can,” the man confirmed as he slid off his sunglasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose before slipping them back on. “How long have you been able to see things like that?”

You rocked back and forth on your heels and tapped your chin. “Hmmm, I honestly can’t remember a time when I couldn’t.”

The man nodded. “My name is Masamichi Yaga. I teach at a school for children like you.”

You arched an eyebrow at Yaga. “f*ckkatshi," you said, jutting a thumb towards yourself. "Children like me?”

Yaga nodded. “Kids that have abilities like you. I’m sure you’ve noticed that you’re much stronger than most and possess power that others simply do not,” he said, gesturing toward you. “We’re called jujutsu sorcerers,” he paused as he watched your face scrunch up.

“Like in that Harry Potter book?” you asked.

Your question made Yaga chuckle. “Not quite,” he said as he pointed towards the Freaky Moths. “Those creatures are known as cursed spirits. Sorcerers maintain responsibility for exorcising them so we can protect the general population from harm. As I’m sure you’ve realized over the years, not many people can even see them so they often can’t defend themselves.”

“Ooh!” you squeaked. “So sorcerers are kind of like superheroes then?”

Yaga grimaced. “It’s not quite like what you’d read in a manga, but in a way, yes.”

Your excitement was undeterred, though, evident in the wideness of your eyes. “So you’re saying I could go to the school you teach at to become a sorcerer?”

“When you’re a little bit older,” he answers. “Typically, students enroll in their first year when they’re fifteen to sixteen years old.”

Your face fell. “Oh.”

Yaga co*cked his head at you. “How old are you, anyway?”

You chewed on your bottom lip. “I’m practically a teenager.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

You sighed in defeat. “I’m eleven,” you mumbled. “But I’m almost twelve so that basically means I’m thirteen so like I said, I’m practically a teenager.”

Yaga smirked at your childish logic when another thought came to mind. “So you weren’t scared when those cursed spirits appeared before? You didn’t hesitate to push me out of the way.”

Eyebrows scrunched together, you considered his question. “Not really,” you said as you scratched your arm. “I was scared that you were going to get hurt and I knew I could protect you so that’s what I did.”

The sorcerer was genuinely impressed with you. You might’ve been a little thief, but it was obvious that you were courageous and kind-hearted. It baffled him why you were stealing in the first place—out of necessity? He quickly scrutinized your small frame and inwardly cringed. Your clothes were tattered and your coat appeared almost three sizes too big while one of your boots bore a hole at the toe. “Your parents around, kid?”

Your eyes shyly flitted to the ground. “No.”

Yaga frowned. “Okay, so what about the person that takes care of you?”

You suddenly appeared even smaller as you looked up at him with a sheepish expression. “I mean I have some friends, but no one really, I guess.”

“No one?” Yaga asked. “Where do you live then?”

Scratching the back of your neck, you shrugged. “I used to live at an orphanage in Shinagawa City, but…”

Yaga gestured for you to continue.

You winced. “I kind of ran away. No one was ever interested in adopting me and the staff and other kids were scared of me so I left.”

The battle-hardened sorcerer felt like he'd been stabbed in the heart at your admission.

Yaga understood precisely why people avoided you now that you were in a less congested area because the cursed energy emanating from you was nearly overwhelming. Of course, non-sorcerers wouldn’t know exactly what it was that they were feeling, but their instincts likely screamed that they were in danger while in your proximity. Without a teacher, you evidently had never learned how to properly control your cursed energy.

“How long have you been homeless?”

“Well, since I was eight,” you recalled. “So a little over three years?”

Yaga couldn’t permit this. Clearly, you could defend yourself, but you were still just a little girl struggling to survive on the streets. You deserved a chance at a better life.

He deeply sighed and slipped his glasses off, folding them into his jacket pocket. “How would you like to come back to Jujutsu High with me?”

Your face lit up momentarily before your expression turned apprehensive. “I’m a little, well, way behind in school since I ran away.”

Yaga tutted. “What if you were privately tutored? If you can get back on track with your studies, you can enroll as a first-year at Jujutsu High when you're of age.”

You grinned. “Really?”

Your smile was contagious and Yaga couldn’t help but reciprocate it. "I believe you have genuine potential. You could save countless lives. The jujutsu community would be fortunate to have a sorcerer like you in our midst.”

Squealing, you wrapped your arms around the man’s waist and tightly squeezed. Usually, such an embrace would be harmless, but you would've bruised Yaga had he not reinforced himself with cursed energy.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” you exclaimed as you bounced on your feet. “Thank you!”

Yaga ruffled your hair when a frighteningly serious expression abruptly bloomed across his face. He pointed an accusing finger at you. “On one condition.”

You gulped as you peeked up at the man. “What is it?”

“You have to promise not to pick-pocket me again.”

You smirked and held a pinkie finger out to him. “Deal.”

Yaga locked his pinkie finger with yours and placed a hand on your shoulder, steering you towards the fire escape. “Then let’s get going, kid."

Chapter 4: IV. First Impressions

Chapter Text

JUNE 2005

You were sitting inside the classroom, devouring the novel that Yaga picked up for you the day before as you waited for the instructor to arrive. It was the start of your first year at Jujutsu High and calling you anxious would be a monumental understatement. In an attempt to ease your nerves, you arrived an hour early to the classroom and decided to pass the time by reading the latest installment in the Kiran Kimuran series.

Deep down, you recognized that the source of your anxiety was the prospect that none of your classmates were going to want to be friends with you. In the last four years, you discovered that the vast majority of the jujutsu community would prefer to see you dead. Frankly, you would've likely been dead by now if Yaga wasn't constantly advocating for you.

Unfortunately, this meant that your only friends were ones that Yaga had quite literally made for you, and while you certainly appreciated them, cursed corpses couldn’t exactly hold a conversation or gossip about boys with you.

You thumbed through the thinning pages of your book when a sudden shadow overcame the text causing you to squint. Your eyes inched upwards to land on a boy grinning down at you.

“Hi there,” the boy enunciated as he placed a slender hand on top of your desk and leaned in uncomfortably close.

Your face scrunched up as you took in the boy’s features. Fluffy white hair that bore the faintest hue of lilac swooped over his forehead and startlingly blue eyes framed by thick lashes peered back at you over the rims of his sunglasses. In short, he was pretty. Too pretty. Looking at him was like looking directly at the sun.

His ridiculously handsome face and arrogant demeanor made it glaringly obvious that this boy was certainly not friend material.

“Hi,” you replied in a monotone as you redirected your gaze toward your book.

You quickly realized that the boy was not easily deterred as you heard him plop down into the seat next to you. “What’s your name?” he asked.

You sighed but still didn’t look up. “f*ckkatshi. What’s—”

The boy scooted his desk until it was practically flush with yours. The screeching noise was so obnoxious that you almost covered your ears. He leaned in close enough that you could easily distinguish the various blues swirling around in his irises. “f*ckkatshi, eh? Like Masamichi Yaga’s adoptive daughter?”

You winced and shifted away from him as you reluctantly nodded. His reaction suggested he’d been raised in the jujutsu community where he undoubtedly grew up hearing all the vicious rumors and gossip about you.

“No way!” the boy cried out. “I thought that they weren’t going to let you attend!”

You scowled in response and placed your Tamagotchi-themed bookmark in between the pages of the novel, aggressively snapping it shut. “Well, they did. Got a problem with that, pretty boy?”

Your hostility only seemed to pique his interest further.

“You think I’m pretty?” he teased. Your eyes widened as you felt heat dance across your face. “But I don’t have a problem with that at all, f*ckkatshi,” he insisted, practically purring your name. “In fact, I’m super glad that we’re going to be classmates.”

You wouldn’t have believed it, but the boy was being sincere. Whenever the girl called f*ckkatshi was mentioned, the adults of his clan strived to appear unbothered by your existence, but he could see right through the bravado and knew you terrified them.

The boy had been brooding for weeks because he was sure that he was going to be surrounded by a bunch of weaklings who couldn’t keep up with him, but with you here, that concern ceased to exist. He knew then and there that you two were going to be best friends. Perhaps even BFFs.

Rolling your eyes, you shifted further away from him. “I’m sure,” you muttered.

The boy lightly tugged on one of your neatly braided locks of hair. Smacking his grabby paws off, you turned back to him and hissed, “What do you want?”

“Your attention,” the boy replied honestly. “Aren’t you going to ask me what my name is? It would be rude not to, you know.”

“I was going to and you interrupted me,” you grumbled as you tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “What’s your name?”

“Satoru Gojo.”

Your stomach dropped, but you didn’t dare show the surprise on your face. You had heard all about Satoru Gojo. According to Yaga, the boy was the heir to the Gojo clan and was stupidly powerful since he was the first sorcerer in over four hundred years to be born with both the Limitless technique and the Six Eyes.

This guy was going to be even more obnoxious than you thought.

Schooling your face into a neutral expression, you replied, “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m sure,” he echoed your earlier response. “What are you reading?” Before you had a chance to answer, he snatched the book from your desk and began flipping through the pages.

“Give that back—” you started to hiss, but stopped when your hands were seemingly blocked by a barrier of some sort. You looked up in confusion and squinted. If you focused hard enough, you realized that you could glimpse the air shimmering around Gojo.

“Is this part of your technique?” you questioned as you drew your hand back towards your chest.

“Neat, huh?” he answered as he lowered his sunglasses down further. You noticed that his eyes almost seemed to emit a faint glow. “It’s called Infinity. It’s basically the ultimate barrier.”

You tilted your head at him and lightly prodded the shimmering air as your curiosity was thoroughly piqued. “Mind if I test something?”

“Knock yourself out,” Gojo replied as he leaned back in his chair.

You offered the tiniest of smiles and Gojo couldn’t help but notice how pretty you were when you weren’t scowling.

Standing up in the almost non-existent space between your desks, you pressed your palms flat against Gojo’s Infinity.

As you attempted to push further, you could feel the tiniest sting tickle your palms. You resolved to put more strength behind your hands when the air began to pulsate, almost as if it was angry at you, and the sting escalated to a burning sensation. You gritted your teeth and refused to yield as you reinforced your palms with cursed energy and shoved against the Infinity with all your might.

In hindsight, this probably wasn’t your best idea. However, in your defense, you were just a teenager (and a little stupid).

Your cursed energy and Gojo's Infinity crackled against each other in a split-second clash when the tension erupted into a shower of sparks. The force alone was enough to send you flying through the classroom’s wall causing you to ungracefully land in a heap out in the hallway.

Groaning, you rolled over to rest on your hands and knees as you rubbed at your eyes. However, within seconds, frantic hands were on you and tugging you up onto your feet.

Through blurry vision, you vaguely recognized that Gojo was holding you up by your shoulders. His lips were moving quickly, but you were unable to hear him through the ringing in your ears.

You lifted a finger towards him and wriggled out of his grasp. Placing your hands over your ears, you closed your eyes and then shook your head aggressively like some rabid animal. Opening your eyes, you found that your senses had returned to normal and sighed in relief.

“I didn’t mean to literally knock yourself out, dummy,” Gojo reprimanded as he dusted off some of the plaster on your shoulders and furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

You grinned up at him. “That was so cool, right?”

Gojo immediately returned your smile tenfold and opened his mouth to speak when you heard two other sets of footsteps. You stepped back from Gojo and pivoted to the newcomers.

“U—uh,” you stuttered, waving. “Hi.”

The two kids were sporting expressions composed of concern and amusem*nt.

“Hi,” the dark-haired boy replied. He was well over a head taller than the brunette girl beside him. “Is this something to be concerned about?”

Gojo waved a hand. “Not at all! Just doing some research before the instructor gets here.”

The boy exchanged an incredulous look with the girl.

“Research that causes explosions?” the girl challenged as she arched an eyebrow, wide brown eyes flitting between you and Gojo.

“That’s thebest kind!” Gojo claimed as he spread his arms out toward the disaster that was once known as the hallway.

“sh*t,” you mumbled when you realized that Yaga was probably going to take your phone away once he found out about your blunder. Sighing, you darted off to the supplies closet you knew was nearby and rolled out an industrial-sized trashcan along with a broom and dustpan.

You barely suppressed a flinch when you felt a hand on your shoulder and whipped around to find the dark-haired boy standing behind you.

“Sorry,” he apologized, scratching the back of his neck as he withdrew his hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to ask if you needed some help.”

Your cheeks flushed pink as you shook your head at him. “No, this is my mess, I got it.”

Damn, why are you blushing so much today? You've met cute boys before. Stop acting like a creep.

The boy snatched the broom and dustpan out of your hands. “Well, that’s too bad,” he replied as he began walking toward the debris.

You frowned at the back of his head as you wheeled the trashcan down the hall. You didn’t like owing people favors, but it appeared that you now owed several since Gojo and the girl were collecting chunks of plaster and sorting them into a pile.

“Hey, guys,” you started when the brunette girl appeared by your side to assist in brushing off the remaining debris littering your body. Once you were thoroughly groomed, you two exchanged a smile. “This is my mess. You really don’t need to help me.”

“Technically, it’s our mess,” Gojo corrected as he started chucking the plaster into the trashcan. “I’m guessing you two are the other first-years, then?”

“That’s right,” the boy confirmed as he swept up the dust and finer pieces of rubble. “I’m Suguru Geto.”

The girl waved a dusty hand. “Shoko Ieiri.”

Gojo nodded. “Satoru Gojo. This is f*ckkatshi,” he informed them as he pointed a finger at you.

You mustered a weak smile at your classmates. “Great first impression, right?”

“Depends. Is this going to be a recurring matter?” Geto asked with a chuckle.

“Are you kidding?” Ieiri giggled. “Just look at those two. I’m sure there will be at least two more explosions before lunch.”

Geto grimaced. “C’mon, don’t jinx it, Ieiri.”

With the four of you working together, you managed to clear the mess up rather quickly and returned the cleaning supplies to the closet before freshening up.

“So what are we going to do about that?” Gojo questioned. He was pointing at the last remaining evidence of your so-called “research”—otherwise known as the gaping f*cking hole in the wall.

You chewed your lip when an idea popped into your head. “I got it!” you exclaimed as you dashed off to the cabinet situated down the hall and wrapped your arms around the width of it.

“Here, let us help—” Geto cut himself off as you effortlessly hoisted the furniture into the air.

Your fellow first-years only blinked at you.

“Guys,” you muttered. “You’re kinda in my way.”

The three pressed themselves flat against the walls of the hallway and scurried behind you as you carried the cabinet like a laundry basket. You gently set it down and grinned when you noticed that it was the perfect size to conceal the hole.

“Can you guys position this so it looks less janky?” you requested and immediately withered as you imagined Yaga’s voice in your head scolding you for being rude. “Please,” you added and stepped into the classroom once Geto and Ieiri both nodded.

Gojo trailed behind you as you two surveyed the room when he eventually pointed at a wardrobe intended for uniform jackets resting in the back. You nodded at him, but before you could make a move, Gojo strode towards it and lifted it just as easily as you had lifted the cabinet in the hallway.

He grinned at your slightly dumbfounded expression. “You’re not the only strong one, f*ckkatshi.”

You laughed and shrugged as you worked on flipping stray furniture back upright. “Good. It would’ve sucked if you guys were a bunch of wimps.”

Gojo stepped back to admire his interior design skills. “My thoughts exactly.”

Once your little gang was satisfied with the coverup, you all made your way into the classroom like the perfect first-years you were. Gojo immediately darted back into his previous seat while Ieiri slipped into the one behind you. Geto slumped down into the remaining one next to her.

Gojo groaned dramatically as he gestured towards the clock on the wall. “Where’s our instructor? He’s, like, an hour late. Shouldn’t he be more punctual?”

“Actually, he’s only ten minutes late and we’re lucky that he is since we had to clean up that mess,” Geto pointed out, compelling Gojo to spin around in his seat to glare at the other boy.

As Geto and Gojo started grumbling at each other, Ieiri tapped your shoulder.

“Your braids are kinda messy,” she kindly informed you. “Want me to redo them?”

You were unexpectedly grateful that your back was to her as you felt your eyes widen in surprise. No one had ever offered to do your hair before. Any time you asked one of the other girls at the orphanage, they’d respond by either sneering or cowering in fear.

You eventually stopped asking.

You coughed. “Uh, sure. Thanks.”

A quiet sigh left your lips as she undid your braids and scratched through your scalp, brushing through your hair. Your eyes had fallen shut so you didn’t notice Gojo watching the entire interaction with an inquisitive gaze, eyes dutifully tracking Ieiri’s skilled fingers.

“All done,” Ieiri declared as she tapped your shoulder.

You twisted around in your chair to smile at her. “Thank you.”

Abruptly, your instructor burst through the door to find four little angels, that had certainly not caused any property damage, politely sitting at their desks.

“Good morning, students! I’m so sorry for being late,” the instructor apologized as he made his way to the front of the classroom, carrying several dusty textbooks. “My meeting with the principal lasted much longer than either of us anticipated.”

You heard Gojo inhale sharply. “I’d say you’re sorry—” he began before he was cut off by you and Geto simultaneously tossing pens and erasers at his head.

Gojo shut his mouth to level you both with a glare and leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed, sporting a rather bitchy expression.

You and Geto shared a cheeky smile at your success in shutting the white-haired boy up and discreetly high-fived behind Gojo’s back.

“Good morning,” you all (minus Gojo, of course) responded to your instructor in unison.

✧ ✧ ✧

Thankfully, the lecture itself went by smoothly. Most of it turned out to be introductory materials you’d already learned ages ago since you were always lurking around in the library so you didn’t need to jot down many notes.

Eventually, your class was dismissed for the lunch hour and it seemed that your little group had silently decided to stick together. You were amazed that you hadn’t already sent them screaming and endeavored not to bristle at the warm feeling settling in your chest.

Maybe you were going to make some friends after all.

“I know we covered it up, but I still can’t believe he didn’t mention the wall,” you said with a light giggle. “That had to be dumb luck.”

Gojo shrugged and tapped his head. “Tamiya could also just be dumb himself.”

Geto frowned and moved to flick the back of Gojo’s ear, but was stopped by his annoying Infinity. Gojo angled towards Geto with a co*cky grin. “You’re gonna have to be less predictable than that if you want to even think of landing a hit on me.”

The jab jogged your memory of Gojo swiping your book.

“Gojo,” you began as you lightly tapped the boy’s arm. He turned his full gaze towards you, making unnecessarily pointed eye contact. You decided that there was no need for his eyes to be so blue. “Can I have my book back?”

He grinned before nodding, surprising you. You honestly thought he was going to give you a more difficult time.

“Here,” he tossed the book over to you which you easily caught. “Seems like a total snooze-fest, to be honest.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t hate just because you’re too stupid to appreciate Kiran Kimuran.”

Geto cleared his throat and you turned your head to find his eyebrows raised. “You like Kiran Kimuran?”

Stopping in your tracks, you side-stepped Gojo to stand next to the dark-haired boy instead. “I do. Do you like it?”

Geto smirked at you. “I do,” he confirmed as he looked down at the book and his eyes widened slightly. “Wait, is that the second one?”

You animatedly nodded. “Yes! It just came out yesterday, actually!"

“I didn’t even realize!” Geto exclaimed. “How do you like it so far?”

You were beaming. “Dude, it’s so good! I love it even more than the first one,” you gushed as a thought crossed your mind. “Do you wanna borrow it when I’m done? I only have, like, twenty-three pages left.”

“Oh, uh, you don’t need to do that. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

You scoffed and playfully shoved him. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to. Plus I'd love to discuss it with someone,” you assured him. “I can bring it to class tomorrow.”

Geto’s face broke out into a wide grin. “Thank you, f*ckkatshi.”

Your heart skipped a beat before you dug your nails into your palm to regain your composure. “N—no,” you cleared your throat. “No problem.”

You felt a hand tugging on your sleeve and looked up to see Gojo staring down at you.

“You’re not going to invite me to your book club?” he accused with his hands on his hips.

Shaking your head, you stared up at Gojo with a look of disbelief. “You literally just said it sounded like a snooze-fest.”

“Personally, I don’t recall that,” Gojo shrugged. “Do you have the first one, too? Can I borrow it?”

Tilting your head, you gradually nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

Gojo’s responding smile was blinding. “f*ckkatshi, you’re an angel.”

You almost choked on your spit, but thankfully Ieiri interrupted the conversation.

“Hey, nerds!” she shouted from about twenty feet ahead of you three. “Are you coming or not?”

Furiously nodding, more than thankful to have an excuse not to address Gojo’s pet name use, you hustled after her. “Yes, we’re coming!”

Geto and Gojo slowly swiveled to face each other and exchanged evaluating looks. Neither boy could fully read what the other was thinking and both were admittedly vexed by this.

“Come on, slowpokes,” you yelled over your shoulder. “You can stare into each other’s eyes later! It’s time for lunch.”

The two boys started sputtering denials at the same time, matching blushes sprouting across their cheeks. They both shyly averted their gazes and resigned themselves to trek behind you and Ieiri in embarrassed silence, but quickly caught up thanks to their long legs.

Slotting yourself between Gojo and Geto, you had to jump to lightly slap the backs of their heads before dashing off to link arms with Ieiri who graciously awarded you with an ostentatious fistbump.

The boys’ squawks of promises of retribution had you two doubled over in laughter as you rounded the corner of the kitchen.

First impressions weren’t always reliable, but this time, you hoped that they would be.

Chapter 5: V. Loyalty Above All

Chapter Text

AUGUST 2005

“That’s the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard,” Gojo declared as he spread his freakishly long limbs out on your bed, rolling his eyes at Geto.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, lightly shoving Gojo over so you’d have a crumb of personal space. “Gojo,” you started. “The whole point of a book club is to discuss the book, not sh*t on people’s opinions the entire time.”

Gojo closed the tiny gap of distance you’d managed to create as he rolled his head over into your lap, looking up at you. “I’m not sh*tting on your opinions. I’m only sh*tting on Geto’s because they're stupid and—”

Groaning, you pulled Gojo’s lips together to cease his monologue until you felt a slight sting on your pointer finger. “What—” you gasped as you frowned down in confusion at the crescent-shaped indent. “Did you just bite me?”

“No clue what you’re talking about,” Gojo shrugged as he wrapped his arms around your knee, truly turning you into his human body pillow. “You must have bed bugs or something.”

You quietly shrieked. “I do not have bed bugs, you little sh*t,” you muttered as you pinched his side and attempted to disentangle yourself from the white-haired boy. You eventually gave up once you realized it was a losing battle and sighed heavily, leaning back against the headboard.

“Anyway,” you said as you glared at Gojo before turning your attention over to Geto, who was sprawled out on your futon. “Why do you think Kinji is going to betray Kiran in the next book?”

Geto smirked at you. “Well, Kinji has obviously been distancing herself from the entire team,” he explained as he gestured with his hands. “Around chapter twenty-three, I got the sense that Kinji was hiding something from the other two. When Gia tried to ask how New York City went, Kinji interrupted her mid-sentence and just left. Also, when Kiran and Kinji were at lunch, she disappeared for a phone call and just never came back. Tell me that’s not suspicious.”

You nodded and thought over his examples. “I totally see your point. I thought that Kinji might’ve just been jealous that Kiran had been promoted to Captain over her, but that wouldn’t explain her icing out Gia, too. That’s a really good observation, Geto.”

“Thanks, f*ckkatshi,” Geto murmured as he ducked his head down to hide his reddening cheeks.

Gojo groaned and sat up suddenly, leaning back against your headboard now, too, and draped his legs over your own. “But Kinji is totally in love with Kiran. Why would she betray him?”

Before either you or Geto could offer any thoughts, your bedroom door suddenly burst open revealing Ieiri. “Come on, nerds, book club's over. The movie might not start for two more hours, but we should get lunch beforehand because I am starving.”

“Oh right!” you cheered before tossing Gojo’s legs off, rising from the bed to shuffle over to grab your bag. “I was thinking we could maybe go to Masa’s?”

“Masa’s sounds so good,” Gojo agreed as he stretched his arms over his head, fingertips brushing the ceiling. “We should definitely leave now so we can get dessert, too.”

Geto scoffed as he crossed the distance to join the rest of you. “Your sweet tooth is ridiculous, Gojo.”

“Well, I think your hair is ridiculous, Geto,” Gojo retorted, crossing his arms and glowering at the dark-haired boy.

Rolling your eyes, you stepped between the two and reached up to flick both of them on the nose. “Knock it off, you two. You can fight after we—” The phone ringing on your nightstand cut you off. You crossed the distance to answer it and frowned when you saw the name flashing on the tiny screen.

You flipped open your phone. “Ryuga?” you asked.

“Hi, f*ckkatshi. You’ve been requested for a mission,” the auxiliary manager stated matter-of-factly.

“Will Tamiya be joining?”

“No, not for this one. You’ll be assisting a Grade 1 sorcerer instead,” Ryuga clarified.

You pouted before relaxing your lips. You hadn’t been on any missions that didn’t include Tamiya supervising, but you weren't going to protest because you didn’t want to upset the higher-ups since they just barely tolerated your existence. In your mind, this was finally your chance to prove your trustworthiness to the jujutsu community and make Yaga proud.

“Oh, okay. When is the mission then?” you questioned.

You could almost hear Ryuga’s hesitation over the phone. “I’ll be picking you up in twenty minutes to drive you there.”

Your heart dropped as you mumbled, “Twenty minutes?”

“I’m sorry,” Ryuga apologized. “I know it’s short notice, but they were incredibly persistent. The good news is that you should be back by this evening, though.”

You sighed and nodded. “It’s okay,” you insisted even though the disappointment was incredibly present in your voice. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

“See you soon.”

Once you hung up, you tossed your phone onto your nightstand and groaned loudly as you rubbed at your eyes. You looked up to find Geto, Ieiri, and Gojo all staring at you with raised brows.

You offered an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, guys, you’ll have to go without me," you sighed. "Apparently, I gotta go on a mission now.”

“Nooo,” they all crowed together as they huddled around your frame.

Your eyebrows scrunched up. “I know,” you said. “I was so excited to watch Izaki’s Revenge with you all, too.”

“Say ‘no’!” Gojo unhelpfully proposed.

You lightly snorted before squirming out of the pseudo-group hug your classmates had enveloped you in. “If I did that, the elders would probably send an assassin after me.”

“We could just wait to watch it on our next day off then,” Geto suggested.

Ieiri and Gojo both eagerly nodded in agreement. After all, you were the one who had introduced them to the Izaki franchise—it wouldn't be right to watch it without you.

You grinned. “I’d like that, guys. You should still go out to Masa’s, though!”

“You just want us to bring you back the No. 6, don’t you?” Gojo correctly deduced.

Sheepishly smiling, you scratched the back of your neck. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble...”

Ieiri giggled and threw an arm around your shoulder. “Don’t worry, we'll bring it back to you. Be careful on your mission!”

“I’m always careful!” you cheered as you waved them out of your room, turning to unfold your uniform. "Have fun!"

✧ ✧ ✧

In your defense, you had been careful. Unfortunately, that didn't matter much when you found yourself alone and surrounded by a small army of curses.

“Guide us to Ieiri’s dorm,” Ryuga demanded as he hoisted you out of the car. The dark-haired man wrapped your arm around his neck and secured his own arm around your waist, walking as quickly as possible.

Sighing, you shuffled alongside the manager. “Ryuga, I can walk by myself. You should get home to your wife and kid. It’s late—” A cough suddenly overtook your body, dark red blood sputtering from your lips.

“Shut up and guide, brat.”

You tried to laugh only to wince as sharp pains wracked your body and instead focused on moving your feet to Ieiri’s room.

The mission had gone terribly wrong and you paid the price in full.

Your body and face were both marred by deep lacerations and it felt like three of your ribs were broken. The most concerning wounds were the scratches that diagonally spanned from the top of your rib cage to your hip and you had no clue what kind of internal injuries you might have been suffering.

As a Jujutsu High student, you had been trained in first-aid, but this went far beyond your capabilities or Ryuga's. He had started patching you up as soon as you came limping out from under the Veil, but since neither of you could perform reverse cursed technique, you only had two options—you could be admitted to a hospital and attempt to tolerate countless questions or you could endure the pain until you arrived at Jujutsu High to procure treatment from Ieiri.

Ieiri was the obvious and only choice.

If Ryuga realized how badly hurt you really were, he might’ve insisted on the hospital, but luckily your uniform was dark enough that he had no clue that the white bandages he’d wrapped around you less than an hour prior were already soaked through with blood. It was for the best that he didn’t know that.

You attempted to wipe some of the blood from your lips and continued to trudge your way through campus. You were thankful that you hadn't encountered anyone else because you weren’t in the mood to answer questions or swat away grabby hands. At least, you were thankful until you noticed Gojo and Geto sitting on the steps leading up to the dorms, peering over Gojo’s blue Nintendo DS. Oh, f*ck.

Gojo peeked up at you and Ryuga, a smile already playing on his lips. “About time—” he began, but the words halted in his throat as he took in your ragged appearance.

Geto also looked up, eyes widening in alarm as he barely managed to whisper, "f*ckkatshi."

You cringed and tried for a smile that turned more into a grimace. “Hey, guys, any clue where Ieiri is?”

Before you or Ryuga could try to walk another step, Gojo was by your side with Geto not far behind him, leaving the DS abandoned back on the steps.

Gojo surveyed your frame quickly, hands hovering just inches from your brutalized skin. “You’re in pretty bad shape, f*ckkatshi. I’m not sure how you’re still standing, to be honest. Let me carry you.”

You shook your head and shifted away from him further into Ryuga’s side. “I appreciate it, Gojo, but I can walk just fine-”

You were cut off by Gojo gently sweeping you up into his arms. He cradled you to his chest and somehow managed a grin. “It wasn't a suggestion.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to smack his chest, but the strength behind it was likely comparable to a worm’s. “Whatever.”

Gojo turned to Geto and Ryuga. “Go grab Ieiri and meet us at the infirmary. Now.”

Ryuga and Geto both nodded furiously. The latter tossed you a longing look before they both took off in the direction of Ieiri’s room.

Out of all the sorcerers you had met in your life, Gojo was the only one who was faster than you, and you were suddenly incredibly thankful for that. Within a minute, Gojo was charging through the empty infirmary and had you laid down on one of the cots.

The white-haired boy flashed around the room, gathering what he determined you might need, forming a small mountain of assorted medical supplies on the table next to you.

Once he seemed satisfied, he paused in front of you and held his palm out with two white pills and an opened bottle of water in the other.

You tried to sit up to grab the medication until Gojo leveled you with a glare so you resigned yourself to your horizontal position. You shakily took the pills and allowed Gojo to tilt your head up so he could assist you in drinking the water.

“Thanks,” you mumbled.

Gojo wiped the tiny bit of water that had dribbled onto your chin and leaned against your cot. He began to glower at the doors of the infirmary, but almost immediately ceased as Ryuga, Geto, and Ieiri burst through the entrance.

Ieiri’s eyes widened in shock at the sight of you before she quickly composed herself, rushing over to your side. “Any idea where your most severe injury is?”

You nodded and hesitantly lifted your shirt.

Ieiri’s eyes darkened as she nodded and lightly snipped through the blood-soaked gauze. Once it was cut away, you watched her jaw harden. You understood as soon as you followed her gaze. The gashes had only gotten worse. The curse that dealt you that blow must have laced its claws with some sort of poison because the blood seeping out of the wounds was practically black and the veins across your stomach were now darkened to match.

You should have made the cursed spirit's death more painful.

“Oh, that’s f*cking gross,” you moaned as you furrowed your brow in disgust.

Ieiri placed a hand above the area before groaning in pain. “f*ck,” she cursed before turning to the three boys hovering nearby. She pointed a delicate finger toward the doors. “Out! I don’t need you three breathing down my neck. I’ll shout if I need you.”

None of the boys moved.

“She’s going to be okay,” Ieiri persisted.

All three boys were obviously reluctant as they pointed their pitiful puppy-dog eyes at you.

You nodded. “I’ll be fine. Don’t make Ieiri have a stroke.”

No one laughed at your joke, which was kind of rude in your opinion, but they finally obeyed Ieiri's command.

Ieiri continued to work her magic as sweat began to bead on her forehead. “This isn’t going to be pleasant for either of us, but I promise I won’t let you die, f*ckkatshi.”

You frowned. “I didn’t realize I was in danger of dying.”

Ieiri scoffed before grimacing, brown eyes meeting yours. “If you were anyone else, you would’ve already been dead by now.”

“Damn, that would’ve sucked.”

Ieiri snorted before a light smile flickered across her face. “Shut up.”

✧ ✧ ✧

An hour later, you looked much more alive than when you had initially entered the infirmary while Ieiri looked the opposite. Dark circles ringed her eyes and her mascara had begun to smear from the sweat dripping down her brow, but she never complained.

Ieiri leaned back and wiped her forehead with a cloth before sighing. “I’ve done all I can. I was able to heal your ribs and the bruising," Ieiri explained, voice ragged. "And you shouldn’t have any lasting scarring besides the scratches on your abdomen and the one on your face," she informed you with a disappointed expression. "They’re both too severe for me to fully heal. I'm sorry.”

You managed a genuine smile for Ieiri. “You’ve done more than enough,” you assured her, lightly squeezing her bloody gloved hand. “Thank you. Without you, I’d be a corpse right now.”

Ieiri’s cheeks flushed red before she flitted her eyes away from you. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

She stumbled to her feet and snapped off her gloves, tossing them into the trashcan. The brunette turned to you, rubbing at her lower back. “No offense, but we're both in desperate need of showers. You can use the one in here,” she instructed.

You appreciated that as you had been left in just your underwear. Your uniform was unsalvageable from where Ieiri had to cut it away in certain areas to properly access your wounds without imposing more damage. “Towels and robes are in the closet right outside.”

“Thanks, Ieiri.”

“Thank me one more time and I won’t heal your ass again,” Ieiri threatened, stalking towards the doors of the infirmary.

You chuckled before slipping through the bathroom door she’d pointed out. You avoided the mirror. You decided that you needed a shower before you’d evaluate your appearance.

The water was soothing against your back as you scrubbed at your freshly healed skin. Ieiri hadn’t been lying about the scarring. Your chest and arms harbored several bubble-gum pink markings and the ones on your belly were an angry shade of red, but at least your veins had returned to their normal coloring.

As vain as it might have been, you were most nervous about the one on your face. You knew that it was the second most dangerous injury you'd sustained that day. Ieiri had told you that if it had gone any deeper, the curse would’ve torn straight through to your facial bones.

That definitely would've sucked.

Eventually, the water’s color faded from red to clear. You sighed and decided if you scrubbed your skin anymore, you might not have any left. Turning off the water, you dried off with the towel hanging over the edge of the shower wall.

You slowly made your way over to the mirror and wiped away the condensation blocking your reflection. You couldn’t stifle your gasp when you finally saw your face.

The scar was about an inch wide and colored dark scarlet—it spanned from the top right of your hairline down to the left underside of your jaw and slotted itself between your brows, narrowly missing your left eye. You lightly traced its jagged edges and couldn’t help the tears that were pricking at your eyes.

Some might have labeled your reaction as dramatic, but you were still a teenage girl and this was a devastating blow to your already fragile self-esteem. With great effort, you clenched your jaw and willed yourself to look away. Staring in the mirror wasn’t going to change things.

Dressing in a fluffy robe, you managed to find some products to detangle your hair and left it to air dry before padding out of the bathroom. Thankfully, Ieiri had set you out some slippers so you slid your feet into them and speed-walked your way to your dorm room.

You quickly changed into some shorts and an oversized hoodie and sighed as you eased yourself into bed. Snatching up the phone you’d accidentally left behind on your nightstand, you checked it to find a few texts from Gojo and one from Ryuga.

Satoru Gojo, 2:34 PM: one #6 secured just for u
Satoru Gojo, 2:34 PM: [MMS Message]
Satoru Gojo, 3:58 PM: hope ur mission is going well :-)
Satoru Gojo, 7:49 PM: u better not be dead or im gna eat ur food out of spite

Hideki Ryuga, 10:16 PM: Ieiri let us know you were washing up. I would stay longer, but I need to file this report and then get home to the wife and baby. Text if you need anything.

As sh*tty as you felt, reading the messages managed to put a smile on your face.

You shot a text back to Ryuga thanking him and wishing him a good night before pulling up your messages with Gojo. The grainy image Gojo had sent was a selfie of him holding a brown takeaway bag with Geto and Ieiri giving a thumbs-up in the background—all three were sporting comically large grins. You saved the image to your phone before composing a message back.

You, 10:47 PM: i didnt die so i expect my #6 2 be intact

Satoru Gojo, 10:49 PM: lucky for u it still is. want me 2 heat it up and bring 2 u?

You, 10:51 PM: yes plz. can u also bring geto n ieiri. wanna debrief w u all

Satoru Gojo, 10:51 PM: kk

There was a knock at your door less than five minutes later. You anxiously threw your hood over your head like it would somehow distract from the giant scar across your face and made your way to the door, cracking it open to find Gojo holding a plate of steaming, reheated Masa’s with Geto and Ieiri in tow.

You didn’t have time to welcome them in before Gojo grabbed your hand and pushed you down onto your bed, thrust a pillow onto your lap, and placed the plate on top with a little pair of chopsticks. “Eat,” he simply demanded before taking the spot next to you.

You rolled your eyes as both Ieiri and Geto sat across from you and Gojo. Everyone was so close together that your thighs were brushing against Gojo’s sweatpants and your knees were knocking against Geto’s. If this had happened two months ago, your entire face would’ve been embarrassingly red by now. “Guys, my bed is not big enough for all four of us.”

“We’ll survive,” Geto argued with a smile before handing you a cup of water and braced his knees against his chest.

“Yeah, but—”

“EAT!” Gojo demanded again, snatching your chopsticks and loading them with a heaping pile of rice before he unceremoniously stuffed it into your mouth.

“Gojo—” you tried to say before another pile of rice was forced upon you. You yanked the chopsticks out of his hand and took a sip of water so you could properly swallow the food. “Quit!”

Gojo looked like he was about to force-feed you again until you picked up some veggies and stuffed them into your mouth, glowering at the white-haired boy. He only smiled in response.

As you continued to eat, you realized how hungry you were and polished off the entire thing within a few minutes as the others chatted aimlessly.

As soon as you’d taken your last bite, Gojo plucked the plate off of your lap and waved a hand toward you. “Debrief time?”

You nodded, scratching at your elbow. “Debrief time,” you confirmed. “So I was just supposed to be assisting some Grade 1 sorcerer...”

“What grades are the curses again?” you asked Ryuga as he slowed to take a turn. You were about to arrive at the location any minute now.

Ryuga's golden eyes met yours in the rearview mirror. He somehow managed to conceal his annoyance at your repetitive question. “A handful of first-grades and second-grades. You should probably expect to see some lower-grade curses, too.”

You nodded, vigorously turning the information over in your head. You had already made a mental note of what Ryuga had told you, but the need to fill the air with something other than silence urged you to repeat yourself.

Despite Tamiya's occasional ditziness, his brilliance as a teacher was undeniable. With Gojo and Geto also being special-grades and Ieiri possessing reversed cursed technique, you were indeed partnered with the unparalleled Dream Team. In their absence, you were acutely aware of your own mortality causing your nerves to spike, but you were certain that you'd still be fine.

After all, you were one of the strongest, too.

All too soon, Ryuga pulled into the abandoned parking lot where a shiny black car was already parked.

Ryuga rolled his window down and conversed with the other driver before unlocking the doors and gesturing for you to get out.

You slid out and shut the door behind you to find a pale-haired woman leaning against the other car as she inspected her nails. A sharp-looking axe was resting against her side.

Her eyes flickered over to you as her glossy lips formed a smirk. “So this is the f*ckkatshi I’ve heard so much about then. Mei Mei, Grade 1 sorcerer.”

You bowed to the older woman before rising, offering a smile of your own. “I'm truly grateful for the opportunity to assist you today," you said, gesturing towards Mei Mei. "I'm very eager to learn from you.”

Mei Mei laughed, flicking her ponytail backward before she leaned toward you, stroking your cheek. “I’d love to teach you a thing or two.”

Your eyebrows scrunched together at the tone of her voice, but you brushed it off as she returned her hand to her side.

“Veil,” she stated in a flat tone as she gestured for you to follow behind her. You glanced one look back to Ryuga who was giving you an encouraging smile that you tried to return.

When you came within ten feet of the warehouse, Mei Mei stopped and lifted two fingers in the air and began to recite the incantation to raise the Veil. "Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure."

The inky barrier overtook the sky as Mei Mei’s lips dropped back into that smirk. If she wasn’t so beautiful, it’d almost be unsettling.

“Let’s go,” she said as she walked closer to the building. The pale woman raised her free hand to open the door and abruptly stopped. You couldn’t see her face from your angle, but her shoulders had become rigid with tension.

“Mei Mei, is everything okay?” you asked with wide eyes.

Her shoulders dropped as she pivoted back around to you, the same calm expression from before on her face. “Everything’s fine, but I’m afraid I’ll have to leave this one to you. The pay is not nearly enough for what’s waiting in there.”

You tilted your head at her and trailed behind her as she lowered the Veil. “Are there a lot more than what they said?”

Mei Mei tossed her axe at the auxiliary manager who was indulging in a cigarette. “We’re leaving, Izumi,” she told him.

Izumi startled, cigarette falling from his mouth, before scrambling to grab her cursed weapon and stow it in the trunk of the car.

“Yeah, they’d have to pay me double to even consider it,” she informed you as she slipped into the backseat. She rolled the window down as she formed one of her manicured hands into a wave. “See you around, f*ckkatshi.”

Without further ceremony, the car peeled away. You turned towards Ryuga who was sporting an expression just as shocked as yours.

“Well, what now?” you asked.

“You really shouldn’t be on a mission like this by yourself yet,” Ryuga worried his lower lip between his teeth. “Let me call management.”

Ryuga whipped out his cell phone and dialed a number as he began to pace. The conversation was longer than you anticipated as he argued back and forth with whoever he was speaking to. You could only catch bits and pieces since he moved out of earshot, but you heard the words “child” and “dangerous” repeated often.

Sporting a grim expression, Ryuga made his way back. He stopped in front of you with his free hand running through his touseled black hair.

“I’m sorry, f*ckkatshi. The higher-ups are adamant that you complete this mission by yourself. They said that if you refused, you’d be immediately expelled from Jujutsu High,” he gritted out as he aggressively stuffed his cell phone back into his pocket. “But I can try calling Yaga or Tamiya to see if—”

“No!” you interrupted in a shrill tone. Yaga would never tell you himself, but you knew that his reputation had been slightly tarnished after he took you in. You weren’t about to ruin it further, or Tamiya’s for that matter.

Plus, this was your chance to prove yourself reliable and helpful to jujutsu society. You couldn’t just back out now. You were perfectly capable of handling this mission without Mei Mei. You were a special-grade sorcerer and one of the strongest after all.

At least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

“No,” you said again, calmer this time. “Don’t bother them. The elders already made their decision. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Ryuga asked incredulously, brow furrowed.

You smiled and gave him a thumbs-up as you began walking back towards the building, raising your fingers to create a new Veil. “Don’t worry, Ryuga! I’ll be back in a flash!”

✧ ✧ ✧

You were not, in fact, back in a flash. You’d been literally fighting for your life for close to five hours. You finally understood why Mei Mei had bailed on you, even if you still held the belief that she was a coward—a smart coward, though.

Instead of the “handful” of cursed spirits you’d been assigned to dispatch, you encountered more than twice as many. The last one you needed to exorcise was a first-grade that was impressively strong—so much so that you wondered if it bordered more towards a special-grade classification.

The curse jumped back from the attack it had just managed to land on you, a sad*stic smile dancing across its face.

Excruciating pain coursed through the flesh its nails had ripped into, but you shot a hand out towards the curse and groaned out, “Cleave!”

You watched as the curse was diced apart into small cubes and thudded to the concrete, oozing that disgusting purple slime. You glanced down at the gaping tears in your uniform before shifting your eyes back to the remains of the curse.

”f*ck you in particular,” you muttered to the goo.

You allowed yourself to keel over momentarily as you wiped away the blood that was gathering around your eyes, wincing when your fingers brushed against the gash from one of the curses you’d exorcised earlier.

Forcing yourself to stand up straight, you limped out to lift the Veil where Ryuga was dutifully and anxiously awaiting your return.

“...then Ryuga helped patch me up before speeding back here. You guys know the rest,” you finished as you rubbed the bridge of your nose, flinching because you had forgotten about your still-tender scar.

“What the hell? Are they trying to kill you? Why would they—” he cut himself off as he finally realized what you already had during your five hours of Hell.

You grimaced. “Exactly. I knew they didn’t like me, but I didn’t think they’d go that far.”

Geto gently patted your knee. “We won’t let them get away with this.”

You pulled a wry smile. “I really appreciate that, but I’m not sure that’s a promise you can keep, Geto,” you lifted a hand to rub your face before you pulled it back to scratch your elbow instead. “They’ve probably—”

Gojo picked up your ringing cellphone and placed it in your hand. Your brows furrowed at the name flashing across the screen for the second time that day. “Ryuga?”

“f*ckkatshi, how are you feeling?” Ryuga asked.

“A lot better, thanks,” you answered as your eyes glanced toward the alarm clock on your nightstand. “Not to be rude, but why are you calling so late? Aren’t you going to wake up your baby?”

Ieiri mouthed the words “speaker phone” to you which you quickly obliged.

Ryuga sighed audibly into the phone.

“I haven’t been home yet actually. I just finished my report with management. f*ckkatshi,” he hesitated and your heart dropped at the way he said your name. “They want to assign you another solo mission tomorrow. I’ve been trying to talk them out of it, but they just won’t listen.”

“Tomorrow?” you whispered. Even with Ieiri’s healing, you were in no shape to go out on a mission by yourself that soon. The cursed wound you had suffered was still throbbing. “I—I can’t.”

“I know,” Ryuga replied, sounding miserable. “This isn’t fair to you at all and I promise I’ll keep trying, but I just want you to—” Your manager groaned. "I want you to prepare for the worst outcome.”

You stared down at your lap. If that was the case, you were probably going to die tomorrow. And for what? Being supposedly descended from some sorcerer that died a thousand years ago? You were sure that every sorcerer clan had its own unsavory ancestor, but you were the only one being actively punished. How was any of this fair?

Gojo had never seen the expression you were sporting now. He’d seen you happy, he’d seen you angry, but he’d never seen you look hopeless before. He couldn’t stand to see you like that.

Gojo snatched the phone out of your hands, laying it on his knee. “Hey, Ryuga. This is Satoru Gojo. Get me on the phone with Yoshinobu Gakuganji.”

“Gojo?” Ryuga questioned. “Alright, hold on.”

There was a brief silence as you assumed Ryuga muted the call when you heard a raspy voice come through the phone. “Satoru Gojo, what do you want?”

Gojo smiled, but it wasn’t his usual kind—it was a smile that promised retribution if he didn’t get his way. “Gakuganji! Didn’t know you were in the business of sending innocent teenagers out on suicide missions.”

Gakuganji sputtered. “Gojo, you are out of line—”

“Save it,” Gojo growled out. Your eyes flashed over to Geto and Ieiri who wore matching dumbfounded faces. “I know what you’re doing, Gramps, and I won’t allow it. You don’t get to f*ck with my friends and not face any consequences.”

“Gojo—”

“I’m not done. You or any of the other dust bags better not pull some sh*t like that again on f*ckkatshi, or anyone else for that matter. If I catch a whiff of any more bullsh*t, I’ll walk.”

All three of you quietly gasped at his words.

“...you’re bluffing.”

“I can assure you, I’m not,” Gojo insisted as he chuckled darkly. “You send her on another mission like that without offering backup and I’ll happily leave jujutsu society and take my f*cking Six Eyes with me. Think how much fun it would be explaining how your pride caused the only sorcerer with both the Limitless technique and the Six Eyes to quit!” he exclaimed, voice deceptively cheery. “I promise I would ruin you, Gakuganji. Don’t test me.”

The line was silent for a very long time. “Understood.”

“And f*ckkatshi is not going on that mission tomorrow,” Gojo added. “She needs time to heal after you almost got her killed. She’ll accept assignments when she decides she's ready to again. Got it?”

“Understood,” Gakuganji forced out once more.

“Perfect! So glad we had this talk,” Gojo replied as he hung up your phone, handing it back to you.

You and your other friends blinked at the white-haired sorcerer. He blinked back in response. “What?”

“Gojo,” you said, wide eyes meeting his blue ones. “That was so reckless. And stupid.”

“I meant what I said,” Gojo declared, taking a moment to glance at Geto and Ieiri as well. “They don’t get—”

Gojo cut himself off when you threw your arms around him, burying your face into his chest. He completely froze. You’d never initiated any physical affection with him before and his brain short-circuited as he processed this information. Eventually, he managed to hug you back, gently stroking the back of your head.

“Thank you, Satoru,” you mumbled, barely audible.

Gojo’s eyes widened at the use of his first name before he closed them once more, utterly content. “Anything for you.”

Neither you nor Gojo noticed the way Geto looked between the two of you with jealousy written all over his face, but Ieiri did. At first, she wondered whom he could have envied, but as she continued to observe him, she came to a startling realization that she wouldn’t share until years later.

Chapter 6: VI. Moments of Permanence

Chapter Text

JUNE 2006

“Are you sure about this?” Suguru asked you for the third time, trading concerned glances with Shoko.

You grinned maniacally. “Yes! It’s going to be so much fun. Right, Satoru?”

Satoru matched your expression, wrapping a lanky arm around your shoulder. “Right, Kat,” he enthusiastically agreed before peering at Geto over his sunglasses. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

Suguru rolled his eyes. “I am not scared. I’m just not sure that this is a wise decision," he insisted. "This is incredibly illegal, might I remind you?”

You all were officially second-years now and you’d suggested that you three get matching tattoos to celebrate your friendship and collective survival. After all, Jujutsu High students didn't always make it through their first year.

“Come on, Suguru,” you pleaded as you disentangled yourself from Gojo and placed your hands on the black-haired boy’s shoulders, smiling up at him. “Please?”

Suguru sputtered and averted his eyes from your gaze. “Okay, okay. Sure,” he quickly agreed so you'd stop looking at him like that.

“Yay!” you cheered as you let go of him and skipped towards Ieiri. “What about you, Sho?”

Shoko scrunched up her nose before shrugging. “If it means that much to you, then okay...I guess.”

“Double yay!” you exclaimed before gripping Shoko’s bicep, tugging the other girl along with you towards the tattoo parlor.

Suguru placed a hand on Satoru’s elbow as he turned to follow you. The white-haired boy raised a brow in response. “Yes?”

“Are you really sure about this?” Suguru questioned in a hushed tone as he glanced at you and Shoko chatting a few feet ahead as you waited outside of the tattoo shop’s back door.

Gojo placed a pale hand on Suguru’s cheek, smirking at the other boy. “Aw, Suguru,” he purred out. “Why not live a little?”

Suguru was sure he was going to either combust or vomit—actually, maybe both at the same time—if you and Satoru kept touching and looking at him like that. It was bad enough when either one of you got handsy on any given day, but both of you? Suguru briefly pondered whether or not the two of you were in cahoots to kill him. Geto closed his eyes and sighed before offering a small smile. “Fine, Satoru.”

“That’s the spirit,” Gojo praised as he let his hand trail off Geto’s face and turned to stroll after you.

Geto frowned. Honestly, it was ridiculous and kind of pitiful how much power you two wielded over him.

Suguru resigned himself to trudge behind the rest of the group. You turned back around to face your companions and darted your eyes across all of their faces. “Ready?”

They all nodded, some more enthusiastic than others, which made you beam in response. You slammed open the doors and called out for your oldest friend. “Rivai!”

Rivai was actually a large part of the reason you had survived on the streets for so long before Yaga adopted you.

Shortly after you’d run away from the orphanage, he had witnessed you clumsily swipe someone’s wallet. When he confronted you over it, you had been afraid he was going to snitch on you, but instead, he just offered tips on how to execute it better in the future. Rivai eventually came to regard you as a little sister and would feed you and occasionally provide you with clothes whenever you dropped by the shop to visit.

Over the years, you somehow managed to hide the fact that you had been homeless from Rivai with surprisingly believable lies and excuses to ease any of his suspicions. Before you met Yaga, you had assumed you were clinically insane since you could see creatures others couldn’t. You didn’t want to burden Rivai with housing someone who clearly wasn't in their right mind.

However, once you realized you weren't schizophrenic and you'd settled in at your new home, you arranged a trip to visit Rivai and finally revealed the whole truth to him (sans jujutsu). You couldn't recall ever seeing someone so furious before then—many months passed by before he fully forgave you for lying to him for so long, but he eventually came around.

"Rivai!" When you still didn’t receive a response, you gestured for your friends to follow after you as you delved deeper into the shop and frowned. It wasn’t like him not to respond.

“RIVAI!” you shouted again, cupping your hands around your mouth for extra volume. “RIVAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIII-”

You were suddenly cut off as a feather duster was launched at your face, but you managed to catch it before it could inflict any damage. Tossing the feather duster aside, you darted off towards the glowering man and lifted him up into your arms. “Rivai!”

Rivai reached down and flicked your scarred forehead without remorse. “Put me down, you unruly brat.”

You smiled and gently set him down on the floor in front of you. “Rivai, it’s so good to see you!”

The dark-haired man rolled his steely eyes, ruffling your hair. “Likewise, kid.”

You glanced behind yourself to beckon your fellow second-years forward. “Rivai, these are my classmates! Suguru, Shoko, and Satoru,” you pointed to each of them as you said their name, prompting them to offer waves. You obnoxiously wrapped your arms around the older man again and poked at his cheek. “This is Rivai.”

Rivai allowed you to keep your limbs only because it was you.

“Hey,” he flatly greeted before spinning on his heel and striding toward the front of the shop.

You herded Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru after Rivai and stopped when you found him flicking off the “open” sign and locking the door. Rivai glanced up at you as he began to clean up his workstation. “You know this is very illegal since none of you are eighteen.”

“That’s what I said!” Geto pointed out.

You waved both of them off with a breezy hand. “Yeah, but it’s fine.”

“Whatever you say,” Rivai replied as he snapped on a pair of gloves and brought over a capful of black ink, some fresh needles, and a printout of the reference sketch you’d texted him. He placed the materials down and walked over to wash his hands again before putting on a fresh pair of gloves (endearingly obsessive as always) and sitting down on his chair. “Who first?”

You looked between your friends and thoughtfully gauged their reactions to the question. “Me, I think,” you answered before bounding over to Rivai.

Rivai gestured for you to pull your hair out of the way before placing the stencil he’d drawn on the back of your neck. He offered a mirror for you to check out the placement. “How’s that?”

You peered in the mirror before turning toward your friends to get their opinions. “What do you guys think?”

Now that they saw what the tattoo would actually look like, your friends seemed much more enthusiastic as they offered words of affirmation.

You grinned and nodded to Rivai. “Perfect.”

Rivai hummed before turning on the tattoo machine and positioning you to where he could easily access your skin. “You ready?”

“Yes!” you responded, nervous excitement bubbling in your chest.

The tattoo was finished before you knew it and you weren't surprised that you barely registered the ache. After your Five Hours in Hell last year, you rarely even noticed pain anymore. Rivai gently wiped the area clean and handed you the mirror back. “Like it?”

The delicate star was flawlessly inked onto the back of your neck. It was incredibly cheesy, but you'd designed the tattoo with your little gang in mind—four points for four people. Something small and simple, but with a deeper meaning that was special to you. “It’s awesome! Thank you.”

Rivai managed a rare smirk before beginning his cleaning ritual again. You hopped towards your friends to show off your fresh tattoo.

“It’s so cute!” Shoko cried before walking towards Rivai’s station. “Me next!”

You beamed at her eagerness and glanced between Satoru and Suguru. “You guys aren't backing out, are you?”

“Of course not,” Satoru stated as he tossed an arm around Suguru, resting his head on the other boy’s shoulder. “There are four points for a reason. Right, Suguru?”

Suguru deeply sighed before smiling at you. “That’s right.”

“Yippee!” you cheered before enveloping the two boys in an unnecessarily tight group hug.

True to their word, all four of you bore the dainty design on the back of your necks within the hour.

“Rivai,” you chirped as you handed him your flip-phone. “Can you take a picture of us, please?”

He nodded, accepting your phone, and let your group scramble into your respective poses. You and Satoru were standing side-by-side with Shoko on your left and Suguru on Satoru’s right—reminiscent of how you all had sat on the first day you’d met.

Rivai snapped several pictures for you before you shuffled over to take a look. You beamed at Rivai before setting one of the images as your new wallpaper.

It had taken you a few moments to settle on your favorite—the one you'd ultimately chosen featured Satoru with his arms fitted snuggly around you, lips stretched into a smile so wide it almost appeared painful as he looked down at you. He had whispered some dumb little joke into your ear just before the picture was taken so your head was lightly thrown back in joy with the palms of your hands bracing his firm chest. Shoko and Suguru were also grinning, arms wrapped around you and Gojo from their opposite sides with their hands meeting in the middle.

Your eyes crinkled as you stole another glance at the image before you tucked your phone back into your pocket.

“Thank you again,” you said as you squeezed him into a bone-crushing embrace. Luckily, Rivai wasn’t too fragile. “How much do we owe you?”

Rivai returned your hug, albeit more gently. “I barely used any ink on you four. Don't worry 'bout it, kid.”

You pulled back and furrowed your brows at him. “C’mon—”

Rivai flicked you on the forehead. “On the house. End of discussion.”

“But—”

Another flick on the forehead, harder this time. “End. Of. Discussion.”

You sighed and finally accepted his decision. “Alright,” you relented as you dropped your arms and backed up to join the others at the door. “See you around, Rivai!”

“Take care of yourself, brat,” Rivai replied with a smirk playing on his lips as he fondly watched your group depart from his shop.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Now we’re all permanently branded as friends,” you mentioned happily as you funneled another scoop of ice cream into your mouth.

Suguru squinted at you. “Don't say it like that.”

“Like what?” you asked, tilting your head at him inquisitively.

Suguru sighed and helplessly gestured to Shoko for backup. Shoko looked up from her phone and nodded, offering a sympathetic look.

“Maybe we could say ‘now we all have reminders of our friendship’ instead,” she suggested.

“That’s practically what I said,” you replied.

Shoko and Suguru exchanged matching looks of exasperation.

You felt Satoru burning a hole into your skull and rolled your eyes. “No, Satoru.”

Satoru whined. “C’mon, don't be greedy! Just a bite.”

You swatted away his hand from your bowl of ice cream. “It’s not my fault that you finished yours already.”

Suguru pushed his bowl towards the white-haired boy. “Leave Kat alone, Satoru.”

You shot him a grateful smile in return as Satoru grinned at Geto before helping himself.

You were thinking over what Shoko had said when a nagging feeling persisted. “Do you guys think that you’ll regret your tattoos?”

“Nah,” Satoru answered between mouthfuls of decadent sugar.

“Dude,” you scoffed, flicking his knee under the table. “But what if there comes a time when we’re not friends anymore? Do you think you’d regret it then?”

Shoko shook her head. “In the unlikely event of that happening, I still don’t think I’d regret it.”

“I wouldn’t either. I’d never want to forget any of you,” Suguru added.

Satoru rolled his eyes and groaned. “Ugh, you guys are so sappy that it makes me sick,” he moaned, slumping back into his chair.

Suguru grimaced. “Maybe I’d want to forget Satoru, though.”

Satoru theatrically gasped and held a hand to his chest. “You’re lying! You adore me.”

“Maybe we all should get our tattoos covered up with something new and not tell Satoru,” you suggested with a mischievous smile.

Shoko and Suguru nodded in agreement, both stroking their chins. Gojo’s mouth fell open as he glanced between the three of you. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“I’m thinking a three-pointed star instead,” you continued as if you hadn’t heard Satoru.

“You can’t! That would just be a triangle!” Satoru insisted, voice rising with hysteria.

Suguru hummed in agreement. “I have been wanting a triangle tattoo to symbolize myself, Kat, and Shoko since they are my only two best friends in the entire world. Seems silly to have this star now, to be honest.”

Shoko snapped her fingers. “It’s decided then! After dessert, we’ll go back to Rivai’s and get these covered up with some sick triangles.”

“Stop,” Satoru cried, lightly resting his forehead on Suguru’s shoulder.

“You’re such a big baby,” you tutted as you reached across the table to grasp Satoru’s chin between your fingers. “You know we could never forget you,” you assured him. His pout transformed into a wide grin as his eyes met yours. “As much as we might try.”

Satoru’s face instantly fell. All three of you burst out into raucous laughter as he began to bang his forehead on the table you were seated around.

As you looked around at your little party, you felt your heart grow warm. Your hopes from just a year ago had been realized. You’d finally found your people and it was better than you could’ve ever dreamed.

You truly never wanted the moment to end, but unfortunately, moments were just that—momentary.

However, in that particular moment, everything seemed so blissfully permanent.

Chapter 7: VII. Pride Goes Before

Chapter Text

AUGUST 2006

“Aw, Kat, what’s got you in a mood?” Satoru questioned as you four stared up at the cursed mansion. It had been a few days since anyone had heard from Utahime so your group had been sent to go check on her, and unfortunately, Mei Mei was also on the mission with her.

You rolled your eyes as you crossed your arms, lightly prodding the cursed spirit’s barrier. “I am not in a mood.”

Suguru tilted his head at you. “It’s because you’ll have to see Mei again, right?”

“With any luck, she died and I won’t have to,” you grumbled. Your grudge against the pale-haired woman revived itself each and every time you looked in the mirror.

Shoko snorted. “At least we’ll get to see Utahime!”

“Hmmm, I bet you’re excited about that, huh?” you asked with a smug expression and giggled as Ieiri blushed a light pink.

Shoko glowered at you and harshly yanked on one of your braids. “Shut up.”

You threw your hands up in surrender and smirked back at Sho. Her crush on the older sorcerer was so obvious, even if she denied it every time, but you wouldn’t press any further since you had actual work to do.

Gesturing for the rest of the group to back up a few feet, you infused your dominant hand with a light amount of cursed energy and crashed your fist into the barrier. You watched as the barrier briefly lit up and seemed to shudder for a moment before dimming again. You shook out your hand and leaned your head back to appraise the barrier further. “Huh, it’s stronger than I thought.”

You readied yourself to inflict another blow when you felt a hand on your shoulder. Satoru leaned down to be at level with your ear. “Don’t strain yourself. I got this.”

You rolled your eyes, but still stepped out of the way and joined Suguru and Shoko. It was easier to let Satoru have his way sometimes rather than argue.

Although, maybe you should’ve insisted on bringing down the barrier yourself because Gojo decided to throw Blue at it for some unknown f*cking reason. To show off? Who was he showing off for? Sir Satoru Gojo, Dumbest of Asses.

As the mansion exploded from the sheer power of Blue, you coughed and surveyed the area, batting dust away from your eyes. You spotted Shoko sitting safely just a few feet away and watched as Suguru slinked around the side, most likely setting up a trap for the cursed spirit.

“Utahime?” you called out as you ambled down to find the older girl, but much to Iori's chagrin, Gojo had managed to locate her first.

“I’m here to save you, Utahime,” Satoru haughtily drawled out. You turned to see him peering down the hill with a sh*t-eating grin on his face. “You crying?”

“No, I’m not crying!” exclaimed a familiar voice. You sprinted towards it and discovered Utahime trapped under a rock. “Be more polite!”

“Utahime, you alright?” you asked as you lifted the boulder off of her.

“Kat!” Utahime cried from her spot on the ground, relief blossoming across her pretty face.

You were about to set the boulder down when you heard Mei Mei’s voice from atop the hill and froze. “If I was crying, would you console me? I’d definitely like that.”

“Huh,” Gojo said as the two pale-haired sorcerers walked closer to each other. “But you wouldn’t cry, Mei. You’re strong.”

Mei Mei giggled. “That so?”

Oh, hell no.

Sneaking a glance over your shoulder, you launched the boulder up directly where Mei Mei stood. You watched with sad*stic glee as she scrambled away from the rock and narrowly avoided being hit.

“You might want to improve your aim, f*ckkatshi,” Mei Mei cooly said as she situated her hair back into place. “That could’ve crushed me, y’know?”

You fully twisted around to face the older woman and scrunched your brows together in mock-remorse for a moment before allowing your face to drop. “Oopsie!”

Mei Mei’s usually calm demeanor briefly flickered to one of irritation. She opened her mouth but was promptly interrupted by Utahime whose fury had apparently reached a breaking point.

“Gojo! You listen to me!” Utahime shouted, pointing an accusing finger in his direction. “I don’t need your help!”

As soon as the words left her lips, the ugly curse suddenly appeared behind her. Before you could even form the hand sign for Dismantle, an even larger curse erupted from the ground and captured it between its jaws.

“Don’t swallow it. I’ll absorb it later,” Suguru muttered with a sigh as he walked past you and Utahime up to the hill. “Satoru, it’s not nice to pick on the weak, you know?”

“Okay, but what kind of idiot picks on the strong?” Gojo retorted.

Mei Mei chuckled. “You’re the one naturally fanning the flames, Geto.”

You glanced to your side to see Utahime’s face reddening from anger once again when you heard Shoko call out, “Utahime!”

“Oh!” gasped Iori as her expression morphed immediately into a pleased one, a light blush on her cheeks.

You failed to withhold your giggle causing Suguru to shoot you a perplexed look, but you only lightly shook your head in response.

“Are you okay?” Shoko asked Utahime with a cigarette in her mouth from her spot beside Gojo.

“Shoko!” Utahime chirped.

“I was so worried about you,” Shoko continued with a smile playing on her lips. “We hadn’t heard from you for two whole days.”

You watched as Utahime ran giddily up the hill to Sho, happy tears streaming down her face.

“Shoko!” she exclaimed as she wrapped the other girl up into her arms. “Shoko, don’t let yourself turn out like those two!” Utahime suddenly whipped around to speak to you. “Same goes to you!”

You let out a barking laugh as Ieiri playfully scoffed. “We’re not trash like they are. And we never will be.”

Satoru peered down at you and Suguru from his perch and placed a hand beside his mouth and mock-whispered, “Don’t let yourself turn out like Utahime.”

Suguru smiled. “Ah, shut up.”

Utahime’s expression abruptly morphed into one of bewilderment. “Huh? Wait, two days?”

Satoru hummed in understanding. “Ah. Was the cursed spirit’s barrier one of those that messes with time? They’re rare, but they do happen now and then. It is odd it took so long since Mei was with you.”

Utahime glowered at Gojo, arms still wrapped possessively around Shoko.

Mei Mei shrugged. “That would make sense.”

“Huh? Something wrong?” Satoru asked.

You and Geto finally reached the top of the hill. You wrinkled your nose from seeing Mei Mei’s face up close and spun on your heel to gain as much distance as possible from her and sidled up to Satoru.

“Not really,” Mei Mei mused. “But actually that means it involved two full days of labor so I was just thinking about how to rewrite the invoice for extra fees now owed to me.”

Utahime narrowed her eyes. “She’s planning to overcharge again.”

Mei Mei smiled and continued, “More importantly, what about the Veil?”

Almost simultaneously, each second-year’s eyes widened.

“Huh?” Satoru asked.

“Ah,” gasped Suguru.

“Oh, sh*t,” you cursed, slapping a hand over your face in frustration.

“Hm?” Utahime’s eyes darted between all four of you, her confusion growing. “Hm?”

✧ ✧ ✧

“Next up, yesterday’s large explosion rocked Shizuoka Prefecture in Hamamatsu City,” the newswoman said on the TV with the image of the mansion behind her.

Yaga was seated on a bench before your group where you all kneeled, heads dipped in shame.

“You four were supposed to oversee the mission at that home. Also, you left your assistant supervisor behind and on top of everything, you forgot the Veil,” Yaga admonished. “Who’s to blame?”

You struggled to hide the smirk that threatened to take over as you noticed Suguru and Shoko discreetly point fingers at Satoru. Instead, you lowered your head further and clenched your hands at your side. Unlike them, you wouldn’t snitch on Satoru, but you weren’t about to take the fall for him either.

The white-haired boy held a nervous smile, sweat beading on his forehead when his hand shot up. “Sensei! I’m asking you to stop this hunt for the culprit!”

“So it was you then,” Yaga deduced before slamming a large fist down on the top of Satoru’s head.

Once Satoru had received his deserved discipline, your group migrated to the gymnasium that held the basketball court.

“Is a Veil even really necessary in the first place?” Satoru questioned as he tossed a basketball high into the air and caught it. “Not like it matters if normies see it or not, right?” he muttered as he pouted and rested his sore head on the ball. “They can’t see cursed spirits or cursed techniques, anyway.”

You were too busy to respond as you giggled and snapped pictures of Shoko wearing Gojo’s sunglasses and peering around in wonder—her expression was just too cute not to document. Your head finally turned when you heard Suguru intercept the ball Satoru had just shot only to find the latter withered on the ground like roadkill.

“But it’s not good if they do see them,” Suguru disputed as he held the basketball, peering down at Satoru. “The strongest deterrent against the outbreak of a cursed spirit is the mental calm of the populace.”

Satoru leaned back on his hands, angling his head back with a forlorn expression. Shoko seemed determined to cheer him up as she moved to place his sunglasses back over his eyes. When she walked away, you noted the dumb little grin on his face and smiled in response.

“That’s exactly why we have to conceal all of these threats as much as possible. To make sure they never ever get to see them,” Suguru continued as he dribbled the ball toward the hoop with his face cast down. “And that’s not all either—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!” Satoru interrupted as he stole the ball back from Suguru and promptly sunk it into the net. He wiped at his brow. “Looking out for the weak and protecting them is honestly so exhausting.”

Geto caught the ball that Gojo threw back to him with a grunt, a grimace on his face. “Survival of the weakest. That’s the proper shape of a proper society,” he argued as he unhurriedly walked toward the other boy. “The weak help each other and discourage strength. Listen, Satoru, Jujutsu exists to protect nonjujutsu sorcerers.”

However, the basketball he threw seemed to disagree with him as it spun around the rim and tumbled away from the net.

“Moral arguments?” Gojo asked. “I hate moral arguments.”

Geto shot a glare over to Satoru. “What?”

“Assigning reasons and responsibility to strength is what those who are weak tend to do,” Gojo replied as he picked up the ball with one large hand and easily scored yet another basket. “When are you going to quit making yourself feel better by spouting all this bullsh*t?” he derisively questioned as he pretended to gag, sticking his tongue out at Geto. “Blegh!”

The tension in the gym was suffocating at this point. You and Iieiri exchanged a wary look before she sheepishly smiled at you and dashed out of the gym while hollering, “Perfect time for a smoke break!”

Your eyes widened in alarm as Suguru summoned a crusty, eyeball curse. “Want to take this outside, Satoru?”

“Why, you feeling lonely? Go by yourself if you want,” Satoru spat out.

You leaped between the two boys, placing a hand on both of their chests and pried them apart. Being the buffer between the two had somehow become one of your primary responsibilities since everyone else was too frightened to interfere. Special-grades, amiright? You groaned as you attempted to scold them. “C'mon, guys—”

Your eyes widened when Yaga appeared in the doorway. “Hm.”

Prompted by his voice, the three of you relaxed your muscles and began to stretch as if there hadn’t almost been a brawl only moments before.

“How long are you going to keep fooling around?” Yaga snapped. “Where did Shoko go?”

You all plastered smiles on your faces and turned around to Yaga as you continued to stretch.

“Who knows?” Suguru replied.

“Little girl’s room?” suggested Satoru.

Yaga’s eyes finally landed on you. You innocently shrugged while batting your eyelashes which managed to soften his hard gaze and he simply sighed. “Whatever. This mission is being assigned to you three anyway.”

The two boys groaned at the news, but you only furrowed your brows at your adoptive father. His expression held a touch of concern that alluded to his displeasure with your involvement in this mission which worried you as Yaga wasn’t the unnecessarily anxious type.

“What are those faces for?” Yaga questioned the two boys that now sported frowns.

“Oh, nothing,” Satoru and Suguru sighed in unison.

You rolled your eyes at your friends and herded them along to trail behind Yaga who was already walking back towards where the classrooms were located.

“Frankly, I think it’s too much for you,” Yaga admitted. “But Tengen asked for you specifically.”

There was a brief pause at the mention of Tengen.

“Your mission has two goals. The Star Plasma Vessel is the one compatible with Tengen. You are to escort that girl and erase her,” Yaga advised you three as he slid open the door to the classroom.

Satoru shot you and Suguru a look of disbelief as you all rounded the corner. “Escort some brat and then erase her?

“That’s right.”

Satoru covered his gaping mouth with a hand. “He’s finally gone senile.”

Geto smirked at you two as he crossed the doorway to follow Yaga into the classroom. “It is spring. His head’s probably full with being the next principal. All jokes aside though—”

“That didn’t sound like a joke to me!” Yaga interrupted.

You and Satoru exchanged amused glances at Yaga and Suguru's bickering.

“Is this about renewing Tengen’s technique?” Geto questioned.

Satoru suddenly halted beside you. “Hm? What’s that?”

You laughed at the sighs Yaga and Geto let out from inside the classroom.

Satoru slid open the door and gestured for you to walk in first. He braced himself against the frame and barked out, “What’d I miss?”

“Tengen possesses the cursed technique of Immortality,” Yaga explained. “But it is not Eternal Youth. Not a problem if all he did was get older, but after his body ages to a certain point, the cursed technique begins rewriting his body.”

You two strolled over to where Geto was already sprawled out on a chair, chin resting on his knuckles. Satoru scooped up two chairs at once, placing them beside the other boy and you claimed your spot in the middle.

“Hmm, Evolution,” Yaga continued with a disgruntled expression. “He’ll cease to be human and become a higher form of existence.”

Satoru chuckled in disbelief. “What’s so bad about that? Sounds sweet.”

“According to Tengen, those who reach that state of being no longer have any free will,” Suguru answered with a sigh. “It means that Tengen would cease to be Tengen any longer. All the Jujutsu schools, the barriers that form the foundation of jujutsu society, the many barrier techniques of the assistant supervisors, they’re all being strengthened by Tengen,” he continued to explain as he gestured with his hands. “And without the aid of his power, we could hardly maintain security or clean up after missions. In the worst case scenario, Tengen could even become a threat to mankind. That’s why every five hundred years he finds the Plasma Star Vessel, someone who is compatible with him, then he assimilates them, overwriting the information of their body.”

“It’s ‘Star Plasma Vessel,’” you corrected once he’d finally taken a slight breather from his information dump.

Suguru slowly shifted towards you, arching an unamused brow. “What?”

“You said ‘Plasma Star Vessel,’ but it’s ‘Star Plasma Vessel,’” you clarified and awkwardly smiled when his expression soured. “Just thought you should know.”

Suguru huffed before resuming his monologue, “Anyway, by Tengen renewing his form, he resets his cursed technique to the start and avoids Evolution.”

Satoru earnestly nodded and lifted a finger into the air. “I get it now! It would be fine if he digivolved into Metal Greymon, but we can’t have him turning into Skull Greymon.”

You giggled at Suguru’s slight outrage that Satoru was using Digimon as an analogy for this historic occurrence.

“So we help start him off from the beginning at Koromon,” Satoru thoughtfully finished.

Geto deflated. “What? Whatever works, I guess.”

“The location of the Star Plasma Vessel has unfortunately been leaked,” Yaga stated from behind his desk, arms crossed. “Right now there are two major groups who are simultaneously after the young girl’s life,” he elaborated as he turned his laptop screen towards you three. “One is the Curse User Group Q,” he said as he tapped a button to show an image of men in uniform standing in a line with a giant ‘Q’ in the background. “They seek to upend jujutsu society with Tengen’s rampage."

“They should seek to look less like losers,” you interjected, shyly blushing when Suguru and Satoru both chortled at your lame joke.

Yaga sighed as he pressed another key that summoned an image of a purple background with crude stars sprinkled about. “The other is the Star Religious Group, also known as the ‘Time Vessel Association,’ who worships Tengen as a god,” He suddenly jutted a finger toward you three. “Tengen will assimilate the Star Plasma Vessel in just two days’ time. You are to protect this young girl ‘til then and ensure that Tengen reaches her before the others do. If you fail, the effects will ripple throughout even normal society!”

All of you rose from your chairs as he spoke the last sentence and looked at each other incredulously. Haha, like you'd fail.

You crossed your arms against your chest and tipped your chin up as your eyes flitted over to find Satoru placing a palm on his hip while Suguru stuffed his hands into his pockets—each of you wore varying degrees of arrogant smiles.

After all, who could possibly be a match for three special-grade sorcerers?

“So put your heart into this!” Yaga ordered at the end of his speech.

Follow orders you did.