Your neck is perfectly positioned for a decapitating strike
the words came to her with resounding clarity. She could not have ignored it even if she tried. She could almost hear his soft voice like a whisper right into her ears. The tone was as cold and clinical as the first time she heard it, neither judging nor rebuking, just a factual statement.
She could virtually feel those eyes staring down at her, those evil eyes on the most angelic face she had ever seen. With a sharp jerk of movement, she forced herself back upright and instinctively shifted into a comfortable stance, one she had learned from the white-haired teen.
Interceptor style. Form 3.
Gojo Satoru appraised her movement with an impressed and thoughtful look on his face. Even with his eyes covered, she could tell he was intrigued, from the twitch of his cheeks, his soft breath, and most especially the raised eyebrow.
Reading facial expressions was one of the first things she learned, right after the second time she was admitted and pronounced clinically insane for pointing at invincible monsters and running from them as a child.
It paid to know what the actually insane inmates were braced to do while she was locked up there. Memories of her past threatened to bubble up from the pit she had thrown them into and force her into becoming a mumbling mess of tears and nerves once more, but she suppressed them with some effort. She was not ready yet.
"That's not one of our standard sword styles, is it?"
"No, It's not, Gojo-sensei. Jiki has been teaching me some forms over the past few months."
"Huh," her teacher, but not her sensei, replied with a strange look on his face. "I was talking to Kusakube about taking you on, but as a grade one sorcerer, he only has time for a single personal student, and Nanami's style is not something that would mesh well with a longer blade."
He gave her another long look before continuing. "And you're comfortable with it?"
"Yes," she replied with certainty. The sword style was not an aggressive one. It had more to do with redirecting blows and quick counterattacks.
It was the only thing that allowed her to match the more aggressive pace Maki could get going if only for a few minutes before the sheer ferocity the amber-eyed girl attacked with overwhelmed her.
"I see," Satoru continued before shrugging and raising his hands up in defeat. "Alright then, if it's good enough, I'll leave you to it. Unfortunately, it means I won't have a good reason to continue pestering Kusakube…"
He trailed off for a few seconds before an easy grin spread out on his face once more. "Maa maa, I'll just have to come up with another reason, I guess."
Pointing at her once more and ignoring the bewildered expression on her face, he continued his speech.
"What do you know about barriers?"
She quickly sheathed her blade into its scabbard before reciting from memory, "Barriers are enclosed areas or zones created with cursed energy. They are used to conceal, contain, or deny entry to into a specific area."
"A textbook definition," he noted with a frown, "but a correct one. Do you know how to create one?"
She thought about the words for a few seconds. She had read the words on old tomes depicting barriers from ages past, but that was all she knew… words.
"No," she answered, fearing she might not match up to whatever standard the strongest man in the world must hold others to.
Instead, Satoru smiled at her and nodded. "That's right. You might know the words, but without the correct application of cursed energy, you might as well just be reciting a poem. We'll be starting with the most simple barrier formation: A curtain, now watch."
He tensed, suddenly serious for the first time, and raised his right-hand hand closing his last two fingers; leaving the index, middle, and thumb fingers together, the universal sign for the formation of a curtain. She could barely notice the way his cursed energy flexed before he spoke.
"Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure."
---
The branches and leaves of the trees extended widely overhead, providing him with ample protection from the intense glare of the sun. However, it was not just the overhead canopy; the light of the sun found it hard to penetrate the desolate environment that was the Aokigahara forest.
The excessive amount of negative curse energy in the environment had changed the nature of the trees, turning the leaves sickly and bleached, with thick white trunks. The negative cursed energy had condensed and manifested into a low rolling fog of anguish and misery that would've rendered maneuvering in the forest without a great degree of familiarity impossible.
If he was not bearing the Sharingan, that is. His scarlet gaze pierced through the illusionary fog with ease.
"You've been following me for the past two miles now," Jiki finally broke his silence and spoke out into the empty air.
"I should rip out your head and beat your partner to death with your spine…" he trailed off. "Or just make you do it yourself." He finished, giving a short time for his mark to visualize the words.
The sheer capability of violence he was capable of was not something most people really understood.
"But I'm not here to fight, neither do I care for whatever you've got going on here. I'm here for two people. A couple, European, blue eyes, and blond hair. What do you know about their disappearance?"
He questioned, and the reply he got was silence. His ears suddenly picked up something under the perpetual wailing cries, warbling screams, and muttered gibberish from the denizens of the forest.
A shuffle of feet against leaves and a brief spike of suppressed cursed energy that indicated a technique activation.
Jiki gave out a sigh in reply. Humans might be the most intelligent group of animals on earth, but they lost some level of wisdom to get to where they are now. Instincts that were deeply ingrained in simpler creatures from dogs, rats, wolves, and even cursed spirits were dulled in humans.
The ruffle of leaves ended as footsteps rang out behind him, indicating his assailant had stepped out of the forest and into the clearing.
A hundred meters away.
Not a single curse had dared to attack him ever since he set his foot into the forest. He had sensed them by the multitude. They were fewer than he expected, but still more than could be found in some isolated villages. The pitied, the vile, the mad, the putrid. Yet they all made sure to creep at the edges of his awareness.
Fifty meters away.
Yet some no doubt oblivious unregistered curse user seemed to think he was easy prey. He would have found it funny if he wasn't annoyed. For all his capacity for brutality and combat, it was hardly ever his first option.
Twenty meters away.
A close-range curse technique? A terrible matchup against Jiki, but in truth, there were few good matchups against him considering his range of techniques. He had to force himself to take the incoming attack seriously; he would not fall victim to hubris.
Five meters away.
He spun on the spot with ferocious speed, stunning his assailants with a wide-eyed glare that forced his assailant to look him in the eye, black-colored palm outstretched. Not just a close-range technique, but a touch-based one.
The genjutsu took hold easily, even though the man's curse energy was nothing to scoff at; he would've ranked him a semi-grade one easily, but Jiki had gotten better at inserting his curse energy into others and resisting the instinctive dispel that happened, while the man had overreached believing the fog of war kept him safe.
The split-second opportunity allowed him the chance to take in his opponent. Brown-haired youth with a scar above his right eye. Someone who had seen battle then. The youth remained frozen on the spot, indentured by illusions of brutal murders and black red-eyed crows pecking his eyes out, as Jiki slipped into his guard, gently resting a palm against his unguarded chest.
He was about to crush his sternum when he felt movement beneath his feet. A split second later the ground erupted with a resounding explosion of force that sent him jumping back and his opponent tumbling in the opposite direction.
In between the dust and the confusion, he spied something that peeled out of the gaping space in the earth before slipping back down.
A shikigami? No. A curse. A green and white curse shaped like a maggot with multiple rows of shark-like serrated teeth resting in its maw.
He was mid-air when the next attack came, scything through the air and towards his unguarded back.
With a flex of muscle and skill, he twisted mid-air allowing the attack to pass beneath him before he finally spun and landed on his feet, skidding back to the edge of the clearing.
He had to raise his expectations of his assailants as he settled on the ground once more. The timing and coordination were sublime. The uncertainty of a cursed spirit collaborating with random rogue curse users made him think. Which slowed him down enough that he was almost hit by the final attack.
His eyes drifted down to the gashes torn into his kimono, proof that he had dodged the kick and the explosion of earth from the curse. His enemies were a grade one and a semi-grade one curse user with a lurking grade two curse, one grade two curse that lurked beneath the earth, one that if he remembered correctly died years ago.
His eyes trailed the nearly invincible movement that was reflected on the surface from the curse spirit passage beneath the ground before a voice drew his attention.
"Ho, you dodged even that. You're a nimble one." A boisterous voice called out along with footsteps. The second assailant.
The man stepped out of the dust, and he had his first view of him. He was huge, six foot six at a minimum, with a muscular physique that was exposed by his lack of a shirt. A frame that contrasted heavily with his soft and feminine face bearing gentle blue eyes.
A foreigner? So what was a foreign curse user doing in the middle of the Aokigahara forest?And were those love tattoos over his nipples?
"Ho! He's young and a cutie too. Do you think The boss would let us keep him?" The blonde posed the question to his partner as the other man stepped out of the dust.
His arms were shaking, his breath came faster and unsteady, his cursed energy moved erratically, and he refused to look Jiki in the eye.
A side effect of the genjutsu. Jiki wondered, how long did it take the youth to realize it was all an illusion. Then again did it truly matter? Perception and reality were what you made off it in the end, and he had grown familiar with blurring those lines in between them.
"D-don't look him in the eye, Larue. I- I think I know who he is." The other man replied, voice shaky.
"Ho? Is he some famous-"
Jiki moved. Leaving an inch crater behind him with the sudden leap as he appeared in front of the blonde-haired giant a heartbeat later. Even with the man's laissez-faire. He could tell he was a greater threat than his partner and with an unknown cursed technique. The blonde-haired man's cursed energy output was greater than Jiki's, and he already knew the other man's technique was touch-based.
He stepped closer into his guard as the muscular man tucked his head and raised his forearms to protect his upper body, but that was never his target.
Cripple his mobility.
He slammed the sole of his feet on the muscular man's right knee, the gruesome sound of bone breaking and tendons tearing echoed out as his right leg curved inward.
Before the man could register the pain, he was forced to the ground with only his remaining knee keeping him up.
Disorient him.
Jiki sent a straight palm strike that caved his pointed nose inwards and arrested the begrudging cry of pain in its cradle. A simultaneous cupped slap to his ears destroyed his eardrums as well as his sense of balance. Leaving the man a confused warbling mess of pain and tears.
Kill.
He locked his five fingers together, turning it into a knife point before sending at the man's throat. He only needed one person alive to tell him the location of the foreigners.
Two lifetimes worth of instincts screamed at him with death on its lips, and Jiki answered by taking a single step back. A black whip snaked out of the cursed fog and snapped in front of him, separating him from the blonde-haired man and ending where his head should've been. His slowed perception allowed him to stare at the black whip. It was formed from thin, black hairs, banded together multiple times over each other with meticulously placed inscriptions and seals along its length.
A split second and an accompanying sonic boom followed after the whip, clearing the mist totally from the clearing and sending everyone flying. Everyone but Jiki who had channeled his cursed energy to his feet to anchor himself.
A new threat. Yet one that had remained content in hiding in the fog while suppressing his cursed energy so well that Jiki could not pick it out at a glimpse.
He spun on the spot in the next instant, the past three seconds had been a blur of motion, yet it was enough to force the other man to react. He was farther away from the sonic boom and had pushed through whatever was left as he sprinted towards Jiki once more black hands outstretched and with a shout to bolster his faltering bravery.
He couldn't afford to waste time dealing with this caliber of opponents once more, especially with the whip wielder still lurking somewhere unseen. His hands instinctively formed the necessary signs, directing and molding his cursed energy as desired, before bringing them to his lips.
He felt the underground vibrations keener, now that he knew what to expect. The ground trembled slightly with underground movement, it synchronized with the charging man's footstep and hid under the noise he made. But Jiki was aware of the anomaly and he reacted with anticipation. Ready to obliterate everything in his path.
Both above and below ground.
The man must've sensed something for his eyes widened as he staggered back in a failed attempt to stop his momentum and give distance, but he was too slow.
Cursed Technique: Fire style - Great fire Anni-
A sudden wave of malicious curse energy exploded in the far distance and the sheer pressure of it hit him like a hammer of god. Destabilizing his cursed energy and almost sending him to the ground.
He snapped his head to the east, his opponent discarded and forgotten as he felt the cursed energy permeate all of Japan. What was that? He didn't realize he said those words out till he got a reply.
"That is the Queen of curses, Jiki-kun"
He shifted his attention to the new voice; ignoring the way the other man fell on his fell to his ass and scrambled back, eyes wide with both horror and hope. The man looked to the side and exclaimed, "Geto-sama. You're here?"
"Yes, Negi," Geto walked out of the mist, with a great multi-winged bird plodding along behind him with legs that were more suited to maneuvering on wetlands than the forest they found themselves in. Geto gently palmed the head of his man and spoke, "You were supposed to observe not attack him."
"He found-"
"Shhhhh," Geto silenced the man and walked past him with a smile. "We'll come back to that later.
He had changed, Jiki noted with no real surprise. Yet the biggest change Jiki noted was his smile, it didn't seem to reach his hard brown eyes, not like it did seven years ago. His hair had grown out into a mane and he wore a traditional blue kimono with matching baggy pants that were tapped at the end, and a gojogesa over the outfit like a vest, giving him a Buddhist look.
"I changed my destination when I got a call from Suda that our lure worked and Jiki was sent here," Geto replied with another smile, before turning to Jiki. There was something indescribable on the older man's face as they stared at each other in silence before Jiki decided to speak.
"Geto-san." He acknowledged the older man with a shot bow and watched him flinch at the use of the honorifics. It was a barely perceptible movement, but his scarlet eyes saw all.
"Jiki-kun. I assumed you'd hate me as much as Satoru no doubt does." Geto replied, voice low and plastic smile.
"I doubt Satoru truly hates you." He answers with a shrug. "The only thing I would personally hate you for is the damage your new partners have done to my kimono. Aiko got me this particular pair"
"Ha!" Geto replies with an easy laugh. "I'll replace them then…" The older man trailed off as he stared at him. "You still wear them," Geto said, in a low voice filled with nostalgia and sadness.
It took him a split second to place what he was talking about. A soft breeze passed through the clearing and made the earrings that hung on his ears shift with the wind.
The earrings.
Jiki gave a matching smile at that. They were a gift he honestly cherished, one that he had taken to as much as the necklace Shisui gifted him in another life.
He allowed his eyes to drift to the two people that accompanied Geto. One of them was a woman with brown hair, green eyes, and dressed in a sleeveless black gown with a coat placed over it. He recognizes her easily. She was on a list he had seen once. A list of wanted curse users, this world's version of a bingo book.
The other was another foreigner. A dark-skinned man that stepped out of the fog and rounded up on Geto. He was dressed in a white beret and a matching shirt. He had a black whip tied around his arm, while his other hand held the blonde-haired unconscious giant over his shoulder. So this was the man that almost took off his head. Special grade? He wondered.
There was something off about the other man's cursed energy, and there was something off with the strange whip. Jiki shifted his attention back to Geto.
"You've been branded rogue, with a kill-on-sight order..."
"That's not surprising. They were always weary of my cursed technique. And what it could do. That a technique like mine could come from someone with no clan affiliation was not something they enjoyed."
"That would've been a reason," Jiki agreed, "but it's not the major reason Geto-san." He allowed the silence that came with the pause to last a while before he continued. "Is what they say true?" He asked, his voice calm.
"It is," Geto admitted easily. "Is that why you're here then? Did the higher-ups send you to hunt me?" The older man asked with some level of curiosity.
He ignored the older man's question and asked one of his instead. They both knew he was here for another reason. A lure was already mentioned, something that was supposed to bring him here, the disappearance of the foreigners. "Why?"
Geto froze for a second before replying with a grim smile. "Only Shoko and Satoru ever bothered to ask why…" He shook off the nostalgia before continuing.
"Why? It's simple. I'm going to kill all the non-sorcerers and create a world of only Jujutsu sorcerers." The older man stated with something Jiki noted in his eyes and tone. Madness.
Something happened while Jiki was away. Something that broke Geto, making him turn his back on everything he had known. Instead of calling him out on it, he raised a delicate brow in response, which was enough indication for Geto to continue.
"I could bamboozle you about the righteousness of my cause like I did most of my followers Jiki, but I won't. Instead, I'll appeal to your rationality." With those words, Geto's eyes drifted upwards and he suddenly seemed tired.
"This world, Jiki-kun, is flawed. Somewhere along the way, we've lost the drive for progress, and it's our fault. Instead of embracing our superiority, we've confined ourselves to the shadows. But I have a vision for the future, Jiki—a future where we no longer skulk in darkness like vermin, where curses and deities and centuries-old bastards no longer hold sway."
He trailed off and his voice hardened along with his posture and the look in his eyes. "Curses do not form from Sorcerers Jiki, not unless we will it. Every curse and every death that happens, as a result, is the fault of these monkeys. To make my vision a reality, I will eradicate them all. I will make this a paradise for us. One where we don't have to hunt down curses and protect the disgusting monkeys. A world of only sorcerers. A world of peace!"
"I see…" Jiki replied as the other man trailed off. He looked up at the stars-covered sky. and wondered how it had gotten dark quickly. He analyzed his own feelings before speaking. A world of peace, eh? He knew where that path led, yet he understood the need to see it through anyway.
"I used to care about nothing Geto-san, did you know that." The transition forced the Geto to frown a bit, unsure of where he was heading to, but Jiki continued before the older man could reply. "Now I find the number of people I care for seems to grow by the day, little though they may be" Images of a white and black ball of fur along with a green-haired girl and silver-haired boy flashed by.
"You're one of those people Geto-san. A rogue sorcerer or not. I do not particularly care for the words of them that rest high above, their opinions nor their orders Geto-san." He continued. "Neither do I truly care about why you did what you did. You've made your choice, Geto-san. freely of your own will, for an Ideal and a path you've chosen to walk, and for that, I'm happy for you."
"So join me, Jiki," Geto replied with hope in his voice as he took a step forward. "Satoru could never understand, but you can. I've already made progress with your aid even if it was unknowingly rendered. Together, we could make that dream a reality. You won't have to hunt curses anymore. You could sit back and paint all you want without anyone assigning you to a life or death mission. You never wanted this life, Jiki, let's put an end to it."
A world of peace. A path lined with bloody corpses and even bloodier deeds. He would know, after all he walked that path once.
Jiki sighed in reply before looking back at Geto, it almost hurt to dash the hope he could see in his eyes. But Geto's dream for a new world excluded the most important person in Jiki's.
"If your goal is to exterminate mundane humanity, and build a paradise solely for sorcerers, where does that leave Aiko in this new world of yours…"
Geto froze once more at those words. So Jiki continued, "Don't bother with a lie about her being an exception, Geto. You killed your own parents, I would be disappointed if your resolve suddenly faltered just for my sake…" He trailed off, looking to the skies once more. "In truth, there was never any chance of us working together. You will make your play, and I'll be on the other side. I hope we do not see when that time comes, Geto-san... for both our sakes."
With those words, he turned around and started the slow trip down the mountain. He could hear the sheer hate and disgust in Geto's voice when he spoke of regular humans. There was little to no hope of the survival of the people he was sent to recover.
"Would you have tea then?" Geto called out before he could leave the clearing. "The two monke- civilians are still alive."
He stopped at those words and tilted his head back to face Geto with a brow raised in surprise. "They are?"
"Yep," Geto replied and whatever tension had been born of their conversation died with that casual and familiar affirmation. "Come have tea with me, Jiki. For old time's sake, then I'll release them to your care and you can report all about this when you get back."
He stared back at the smile on Geto's face for a long second before replying with a true smile of his own. Because For the first time, Geto's smile reached his eyes.
"For old time's sake." He replied.
A/N: For those of you who’ve been wondering about him, I present Geto. Our lovable homicidal racist, or is it speciesist? 4k+ words.