He took slow, calming breaths while Shoko stood behind him, her palms flat on his back as her cursed technique went to work. Once again, Jiki found himself trying to follow the patterns and flow of her cursed energy.
The reverse cursed technique was still one of the things he found difficult to copy. Coupled with Shoko's borderline useless explanations and descriptions, he found himself floundering at something for the first time. Unlike Iryo-nin, the positive energy from the reverse cursed technique did not so much as heal as it seemed to work like turning back time for his eyes, reversing the damage to his optical nerves caused by each activation of the Mangekyo Sharingan.
It had not taken him long to realize that he was not truly the source of the problem. None the less the first time, his past life knowledge served as a handicap, creating a bias that hindered his progress. Reverse cursed technique and Iryo-nin were as far apart as water was to fire. However, he was self-aware enough to recognize this issue and tried to work around it. Still, he knew there was something more to his difficulty.
His inability to master the reverse cursed technique seemed to be hardcoded into his very bloodline. The Gojo clan, renowned for their immense cursed energy and powerful techniques, were predisposed to having issues with this particular technique, and old man Tatsumi was the first person to master it in multiple decades, with Satoru coming in second even if his own use of it was limited to himself.
A never-before occurrence of multiple Gojos learning the technique in one lifetime intrigued Jiki. He had a theory that it came down to the Six Eyes and Limitless techniques. The Gojo clan members were not predisposed to taking damage. Even a flawed Limitless technique provided immense protection. As a result, they never had to rely on the reverse cursed technique, and this lack of necessity had eroded whatever innate talent the clan might have had for it.
It was like a metaphorical muscle. In medical terms, it would be a recessive trait that had gone dormant and deteriorated due to a lack of use until it had almost disappeared from the collective Gojo gene pool. The inability to use the reverse cursed technique was simply a reflection of this dormant gene, atrophied from generations of neglect.
In the end, it was all a theory. Despite the emphasis jujutsu sorcerers placed on the purity of blood, they had nothing on the well-crafted and rigidly controlled eugenics that were the hallmark of the clans of the elemental nations. The structured breeding programs and selective pairings of the elemental nations' clans made the Gojo clan's approach seem almost haphazard in comparison.
A grunt, followed by the movement of a hand towards a knife, and even with his eyes closed, his body healing, and the engorged pathways in his eyes reducing and mending, Jiki focused his attention on the man opposite him like a laser. He brought the full weight of his enhanced senses and his impressive ability to sense cursed energy, coupled with his intent—the absolute certainty that he would kill the man if he made a threatening motion.
All these factors combined into something that made everyone around the table tense up, even if they were not his target. This palpable aura of lethal intent was a technique that had been colloquially named: Killing Intent.
Yet the man he aimed it at barely seemed to care, using the knife to cut what, judging by the sound of steel against meat followed by the grind of steel against ceramics, was likely a piece of steak.
Jiki could almost feel the smirk on the man's face at his overreaction, but he was unfazed. He had been promised to bring Shoko Ierie back, and he was never one to renegade on his words.
"Why are we here?"
Surprisingly, it was not Toji who finally broke the silence. Jiki shifted the full brunt of his attention towards the boy, and he could almost feel his nervousness in response.
"You're a Zenin?" he questioned softly.
"Fushiguro," the boy and Toji responded at the same time. The boy's tone was calm, but Toji's had a bite to it.
"Megumi Fushiguro," the boy responded again, after what Jiki guessed was a short stare between father and son. The loud slurp of Emi taking a sip of whatever drink she ordered broke the silence, followed by her muted apologies. He had not forgotten about her, nor how she had no-sold Toji's blow. But all things had their time.
The question itself had been a test. Jiki sought to see if the former Zenin had tried to reconnect with his clan, connections hidden from the rest of the wider world. Judging by their reactions, whatever hatred Toji had for his clan remained. Good.
"Your father talked about you once. My name is Gojo Jiki, nice to meet you," he greeted the boy with a polite nod. It took a few seconds before the sound of Megumi nodding his head along with a muttered response reached him. They could resume trying to kill each other after this, but a little bit of attempted murder was no excuse to be impolite.
A sigh came from behind him as he felt Shoko's technique come to a slow halt, easing Itself out of him. Shortly after she lifted her hands from his shoulders, cutting short what he was about to say.
"Another session left before I can have you trying to render the world to ash once more," she stated with a yawn.
He finally blinked his eyes open, and steel grey swiftly transitioned to red and black. The clarity that came with it was dulled by the strange look the two Fushiguros and Emi were giving him.
Shoko sat down beside him and continued, taking a sip of her drink before slipping out a cigarette once more and giving him a pointed look. It was routine at this point for him to put his hands under the butt of the cigar and snap his fingers, flexing metaphorical muscles to set the tip alight.
She brought the stick back to her lips and took a long drag, and he saw the way her body seemingly relaxed for the first time. He frowned and wondered how he hadn't noticed it before, even if it all made sense now. She had been healing on the battlefield for a couple of hours, only to be kidnapped and taken to heal someone who had been placed into a curse-induced coma.
For all her seeming apathy and lack of care for anything, even she was not immune to the stress and mental fatigue the past couple of days must've brought upon her.
She must've realized the attention of the two Fushiguros was now on her because she turned to him and continued hurriedly. "But if they start acting up again, don't hesitate to set them on fire. Especially the little brat. He spent all day glaring at me."
A smile almost slipped at that, but he maintained his apathetic facade with some effort. It would have been an easy thing to resume the fight, but they had both agreed to a truce, and the Fushiguros had a deterrent just as big as his eyes. In the middle of the table and surrounded by a platter of food and drinks sat a warped parcel of wires and electronics—a ticking bomb. Its trigger had been in the center of the table as well, resting in plain sight but from the moment he opened his eyes, Toji had snapped it up faster than anybody but Jiki could react.
The threat of mutually assured destruction hung in the air, and it seemed both parties were comfortable with that knowledge.
"You said you could heal her, but you didn't," Megumi finally broke in once more, his sole focus on the issue at hand, uncaring of the subtle power plays going on right beneath his eyes.
"I said I would try," Shoko replied with a shrug. "And I did, but unfortunately I couldn't bring her out of the coma, same as the last four people I tried to help."
"She's not the first" the boy acknowledged, and Jiki's eyes drifted to the girl still trapped in her wheelchair, noticing the seal etchings on the top of her head. He remembered Satoru talking about people suddenly entering comas weeks ago, but that wasn't the main thing that drew his attention to the girl. No, that was solely one of the seal patterns on her head that seemed oddly familiar.
"No, she's not. We were never able to truly diagnose what was wrong with them," Shoko continued, before turning to the girl and looking at her once again. "But I've never been as motivated as I have been the past few days." She glanced at Toji and continued speaking. "I believe something has touched—"
"Her soul."
As one, they all turned to Jiki as he slowly rose to his feet. He felt ice in his veins, a chill born not just of the situation but of the implications stirring within him. Carefully, he walked towards the girl, each step measured, as if approaching a puzzle whose pieces held Epiphany. He couldn't shake the feeling that something from his past, a shadow, was haunting this present moment. Yet, he refused to believe that reformed pest could have followed him here; it must be mere coincidence, strange similarities echoing across time.
"Yes. How did you know?" Shoko asked, her curiosity piqued, her voice a contrast to the tense silence that had settled over the table. Jiki finally stopped beside the girl and crouched down, his fingers tracing lightly over the intricate seal markings etched into her forehead.
"I recognize some of the patterns," Jiki replied softly, a sense of familiarity tugging at his consciousness. The patterns were not just identical, they were echoes of what he had once known, reminiscent of the fuinjutsu used to seal in his previous life. He recalled similar markings on his little brother's neck, a haunting memory that now seemed to resonate now. The realization sparked a flood of questions in his mind, as he began to weave a web of connections between this world and his past.
What if this world, was a continuation of the elemental nations he once knew? Had the threads of fate woven him back into a tapestry he thought he had left behind?
Uncaring or perhaps simply unaware of Jiki's inner turmoil, Toji broke the silence with a direct question.
"What do they mean?"
Jiki stood up, his gaze shifting from the girl to meet the eyes of those around him. He could sense their anticipation, their need for answers. With deliberate calm, he spoke, each word carrying the weight of his revelation.
"It means that the girl—"
"Tsumiki!" Megumi's correction sliced through the tension, his voice sharp.
Jiki gave a nod before continuing. "It means that Tsumiki Fushiguro is not the only one in there."
"What do you mean?" Toji repeated, his tone low and dangerous. Despite the man's outward strength, Jiki could see the uncertainty in his eyes. It was a familiar look, one he recognized from his own past—the same look of doubt and remorse he had once seen in his own eyes when confronted with the consequences of the choices he had forced upon his little brother, and the dark paths he had led him down. The choices he had pushed him to make and the serpent he had made him lay with.
Instead of replying immediately, he turned his attention back to the girl and the intricate fuinjutsu patterns etched on her forehead. The sealing arts were not his specialty, but his knowledge was sufficient to discern some elements derived from that snake's work. There was some similarities, but it wasn't a direct replica. Lingua drift overtime preharphs. As he examined the seals labeled 'Soul', 'Other', 'Contain', and 'Trigger', that sense of recognition was confirmed. The girl had some distorted variation of the snake's Cursed Seal Of Heaven.
"She's not the only one in there. There's likely another presence sharing her body, a parasite," Jiki explained, his voice measured hiding the disgust he felt at seeing that man's work replicated. "But judging by her continued unconsciousness, this presence hasn't awakened either." His words hung in the air, carrying the weight of uncertainty.
There was a brief silence as everybody stared at him, each face reflecting a mix of emotions as the seriousness of the situation slowly sank in. Even Shoko's usually composed demeanor betrayed a hint of concern, her gaze flickering between each person around the table. Seconds later, the silence was shattered by a low, guttural growl.
"Get. It. Out," Megumi stated, his eyes red with anger and fear as he gripped the table so hard his fingers dug into the wood. Jiki met his gaze with his usual apathetic expression. The boy moved to surge to his feet, but a hand clamped onto his shoulder and shoved him back into his seat.
Toji kept his grip on his son's shoulder as he slowly stood up himself, his uncertainties either masked or drowned out as he matched Jiki's apathetic look with one of his own.
"So what now?" Toji asked in a low tone, his voice betraying the calm look he wore. Jiki found himself without an answer for the man, nothing that would satisfy the duo. He didn't know if his previous method of resolving such issues could be replicated. He was no Fourth Hokage or even Jiraiya of the Sannin; fuinjutsu had never been his greatest strength. Could he risk it...
"Now we deal with it," Shoko interjected, stepping into the conversation once more and diverting some of the attention away from Jiki. She shrugged off their stares with a matching expression of determination.
"We now know what to look for, and we're better positioned to work it out. We have experience with dealing with soul-related curses and ailments, so we might be able to help."
"What's the price for this help?" Toji uttered, as if the very idea of paying for the service hurt him.
"Your cooperation."
"Huh?" came the surprised reply from everyone that was not Jiki.
Shoko shrugged as she continued, cutting through their confusion and uncertainty with her typical blunt speech. "Things are changing. Satoru is being pulled at the seams, Jiki is a handy replacement and ridiculously competent for a boy, but we can see the writing on the walls. I can see them especially. Something is stirring: special grade curses banding together, this curse-fueled coma spreading, rogue curse users poking their head out of the gutter since Geto proved that it was possible, and the Zenin acting up."
"The Zenin?" Toji questioned with a scowl.
"You're still excommunicated, so I guess it doesn't matter, nor are you aware, but they have been acting up, ducking their responsibilities, experimenting with things better left forgotten or ignored. And yet the higher-ups have done nothing to curb their behavior," Jiki replied as he made his way back to his seat, with Toji mirroring him with a grunt of acknowledgment.
"Hn."
Shoko continued, surprising him so far, so he relaxed and let her continue as she resumed her sales pitch with uncharacteristic seriousness. "There are too many enemies, and these are just the ones we can see. There are still unseen threats bubbling in the dark. So it's simple. Join us. It won't be something that would be advertised. We can enlist Megumi in Jujutsu High to watch out for Tsumiki and be a point of contact with you while I also start putting Tsumiki through some tests."
"In return, you help us. We identify threats, and you neutralize them."
Toji's face immediately shifted into a scowl, while Megumi was a mess of confusion as he sat bewildered. Everything was happening too fast. It must've felt like they were being railroaded, and Shoko must have sensed it too because her brows began to tighten.
"You'll get paid for your services, of course," Emi smoothly added. And just like that, whatever tension seemed to have been budding was slowly dissipating as the corners of Toji's lips edged upwards ever so slightly. He had to admit, the civilian-born girl was rapidly coming into her own as an excellent mediator.
Emi's perceptiveness and understanding of people were showing its effectiveness, and she continued. "An alliance of mutual benefit, not just a one-sided excuse to use each other. Megumi enrolls instead of enlists and can come with us to look after Tsumiki and give you regular updates. He'll just register as a regular student while also refining his innate technique further. The perfect cover."
Toji leaned on the table before he finally spoke with a grunt.
"One month," Toji began and he stared deep into Emi's eyes. "if you can't get her up by then, what next?!"
"Then I'll step in," Jiki declared with unwavering certainty, his tone reminiscent of Satoru's. Toji was forced to shift his attention to Jiki. "It would be our final card, but if it comes down to it, I'll take care of it myself." The conviction in his words forced Toji to blink as that shark like smile began to spread once more.
"Let us hash out the details. I need my lawyer and handler, Shui Kong."
Jiki and Emi exchanged a look before Emi replied with a tight smile. "Of course."
….
They were outside the building, as Emi continued her conversation with the two Fushiguros, reassuring them, while Shoko resumed smoking and Jiki stood beside her and observed. Her expression was weary yet contemplative.
"I didn't expect that from you," Jiki finally broke the silence, his tone probing.
Shoko remained silent for a long moment, exhaling a plume of smoke into the evening air before responding. Her voice carried a weight of regret and introspection. "We failed him, you know."
Jiki turned to her, his brow furrowing in curiosity. It was rare for Shoko to reveal such vulnerability.
She continued, her eyes fixed on the shifting clouds above. "Geto. We should've seen the cracks in his convictions, in his ambitions. But we didn't. And we lost him because of that. I can see those cracks again, Jiki-kun." This time, she turned to meet his gaze, her eyes reflecting a mix of determination and sadness.
"They have lessened since you came, but the elders still seem determined to exploit any weakness," she added, her voice tinged with frustration.
Understanding dawned on Jiki. "Satoru," he murmured.
Shoko nodded solemnly before returning her gaze to the sky. "I won't watch him go the same way," she stated firmly, her resolve clear in her voice.
They lapsed into a contemplative silence, the only sound the distant murmur of the city and the occasional rustle of Shoko's clothing as she adjusted her position against the wall.
"You need to stop smoking, you know," Jiki remarked after a while,
"Bahh, now you sound like Utamihe," Shoko retorted, a faint hint of amusement in her voice despite the seriousness of their conversation.
They remained there, two figures under the evening sky, contemplating the uncertain future that lay ahead for them.
…
The car slowed to a stop, and Jiki smoothly opened the door, stepping out with a surprising lack of discomfort or pain, considering the multiple battles he had recently endured. There were some lingering kinks in his muscles, signs of fatigue and rapid healing, but nothing he couldn't handle. Shoko had worked her miraculous healing once again, almost restoring him to perfect condition.
Turning back to the car, Jiki carefully lifted the still comatose Fushiguro girl in a bridal carry. He spared a moment to glance at her face—she was slightly older than him, though she appeared much younger. Feeling the weight of eyes on him, he resisted the urge to smile and began walking up the stairs, ignoring the suspicious look from Megumi.
"I never thought I'd miss this place," Emi remarked, starting the conversation as they ascended. The school still bore the scars of Geto's destructive parting blow, even days later.
"At least it's still standing," Shoko added, her demeanor surprisingly relaxed as they entered Master Tengen's barrier. She hadn't even reached for a cigarette, her hands tucked deep into her coat.
Perhaps due to their familiarity with the journey, the typically long and arduous stairs felt shorter than usual. Waiting for them at the top was a white-haired man, lounging casually as if asserting his dominance over the territory. His head tilted in amusement, though the dark shades concealed any signs of fatigue under his eyes. The vibrant blue of his irises drew everyone's attention.
Satoru surveyed them with his characteristic playful demeanor, starting from Jiki and the girl in his arms, to the black-haired boy behind him, and finally to Shoko.
"I have a feeling there's a story behind this. Good thing I have one of my own," he finally spoke, a grin spreading across his face as he met Jiki's gaze. Despite the trials of the past days, Jiki couldn't help but smile back, It was good to have Satoru back.
…
It had taken almost an hour, but like all things that had a beginning, It ended.
"I see," Satoru stated after Shoko concluded her tale, his gaze shifting to the suddenly nervous form of Megumi. While they had agreed on the basic outline of their plans, Satoru held the ultimate power to decide whether Megumi would stay, especially since he would be sponsoring him.
They sat in the depths of Jujutsu High, in a clandestine room designed for binding or sealing special-grade threats. The walls were adorned with talismans and etchings that provided some measure of security and protection, making it difficult even for Satoru to peer beyond its defenses.
"We can try to sneak you in as a regular sorcerer we found, but the moment you use your technique, that ruse would be up," Satoru began, still studying Megumi intently. "I doubt any Zenin worth their salt would fail to recognize the inherited technique that has made them the powerhouse they are."
"So what?" Shoko questioned.
Satoru responded with a grin and a casual shrug. "So we don't bother trying to hide it. They're going to find out anyway."
"What about his father's notoriety?" Emi interjected unexpectedly, surprising Jiki with her assertiveness. Satoru had trusted him and allowed her to join the discussion.
"What does it matter?" Satoru shrugged again. "In the cesspit of corruption and greed that is the foundation of the clans, all that truly matters is power. And Toji Fushiguro was the most powerful thing to come out of that clan in recent times."
Satoru attempted to emphasize the seriousness of the situation with a meaningful look over his glasses before continuing, "If this truly is the Ten Shadows Technique, then the Zenin will want him back, but they'll have to approach it delicately."
"What about Geto?" Jiki finally asked, knowing it wasn't the ideal moment but feeling it necessary to address. There was never a perfect time for such discussions, and he preferred to rip off the bandage cleanly rather than let it fester due to indecision.
The mood in the room immediately darkened. Emi, ever observant, noticed the shift and swiftly stood up, addressing Megumi.
"Come on, Fushiguro-san. Let me show you around before Gojo-sensei takes you to see Principal Yagi," she said, prompting Megumi to follow her lead and quickly leave the trio of Satoru, Jiki, and Shoko behind.
After a prolonged silence, Satoru finally spoke with a sad smile, "Geto... Geto is dead."
…
One moment, it didn't exist, and in the next, it suddenly did.
It was born in a single breath, yet it had been accumulating for a long time—years, decades, centuries. Not even the immoral monster that had put the last few steps in place knew how long the being had been waiting to be born.
All it had needed was a spark. Unlike most curses, he was not born solely from the fear of humans. It had also been born from the fear of sorcerers as their control lapsed while they fought a single man, even if most never saw his face. That had been its spark, and it felt its curse technique etching itself on his brain and soul, taking inspiration from both the man that triggered his birth, and pure fear.
It stretched pale, stitched hands out of the black ichor that rested on the floor at the depths of a sewer. The physics of how a hand, much less the body it was pulling out of the liquid could fit on a flat surface, should be impossible, was discarded.
The curse's head slipped past the black ichor that had cradled him for so long, and as it's head broke free, it gained an identity: he.
With that identity came knowledge. As he stepped out of the ichor that had birthed him fully, he raised his head to the slits in the manhole cover meters ahead and smiled at the moonlight that slipped through the grates.
"Humans, such fascinating beings," he found himself speaking, his voice modulating and shifting as he slowly decided on one.
He flexed rippling muscles as he slowly begun to settle on a body type and feature. Light blue hair drifted in the air behind him as he continued to muse. "Now to unravel one would be the most curious thing."
After the past couple of days, it was one he didn't mind and one he actively enjoyed. Jiki soaked in the tub of warm water, hovering on the capacious edge between bliss and unconsciousness. At least he was until she spoke, her very voice washing away the sleep in his eyes faster than anything else.
"You've been smiling all day."
He tilted his head up to her face, knowing the soft smile she mentioned remained on his face.
"Should I not?" he questioned as they peered into each other's eyes. The eyes were the entrance to the soul, and they stared deeply into each other's. Whatever she found in his made her return the smile with a bashful expression and a deep blush.
"You don't smile often," she replied before breaking off the eye contact and rolling the sleeves of her black-colored shirt up. She picked up a sponge and a bar of soap before making her way back to his form. Then she glided the sponge through his skin, cleansing it while simultaneously shifting to his white locks and sinking her fingers into them.
He relaxed further and began to sink into that unconscious sensation once more before he remembered to reply.
"I rarely have a reason to."
Even with his eyes half-lidded and his awareness barely in the waking world, he noted her pout with a smile.
"So what's your reason for smiling now?" she questioned, and he answered easily.
"You." Her face heated up so fast that if he took a pan and eggs to it, he would've made fried eggs in a second.
"Y-you really should smile more. Regardless of the reason," she finally managed to stutter out after a few seconds, but he had already begun to drift into unconsciousness again. His guard was truly down for the first time in months as he immersed himself in her presence.
She continued to speak as she washed him, but he had stopped listening. Instead of focusing on the words, he marinated in the soft candor of her voice, allowing blissfulness to take him.
Truly everything was right in the world whenever Aiko was present.
…
He sat in seiza in a very familiar dark cavern. Like every other time he was made to come down here, he was forced to remember the first time he came here; he had been... confused. Not frightened, never frightened. But he had just woken up to a new life, and Aiko had led him here with fear in her eyes and a summon from the capricious clan head.
"Hmmm," old man Tatsumi finally spoke. The older man had stepped down years ago and was no longer the head of the Gojo clan, but considering Satoru was Satoru, the man had been forced to retake some of the responsibilities that he had happily discarded.
Jiki had just finished telling the old man about everything. From the Night Parade of a Thousand Demons to Shoko's kidnapping, his clash with the sorcerer killer, and finally, the agreement they came to.
"The elders are not aware of this agreement, I take it?" the old man questioned as he took a slow drag from his pipe, and Jiki nodded in agreement. He had been ordered to kill the sorcerer killer, and when he came back without a dead body as proof, they had stayed silent for long seconds before dismissing him from their presence. One that he was all too happy to leave.
Even as he walked out of the room that day, he could hear the mutters, their fear driving them: "Untrustworthy," "unpredictable," and "frightening." It was only a matter of time until they did something… unwise. Old men and women with more power than they should wield always made them forget that in the end, what they wielded was political power.
An ephemeral thing that only mattered to those who cared or paid it any heed. "They forget that compared to people like me, to people like us, they are no different from the regular people they look down upon so much," Satoru's voice came back to him, and just like the first time he heard it, he saw the point.
"Good," old man Tatsumi finally replied before blowing another cloud of smoke out. "Now, do you know your greatest… weakness, Jiki?" he questioned as he took another drag, and just like the first question, Jiki didn't waste time thinking about it.
"My inability to use the reverse curse technique." Jiki had flaws. The acknowledgment of such was... unnerving.
"Correct," the man replied with a sage nod. "You're a genius, Jiki-kun. A prodigy that might never again be born, yet you are constrained by something. Your eyes, which are your greatest strength, are also your greatest weakness due to the damage they take with each activation.
"We have been patient and considerate, hoping you'd pick it up on your own like Satoru did or learn it from him or Shoko, but that has proven to be not forthcoming, which leaves you with a final source of guidance. One that you have not made an attempt to use."
The man waited for Jiki to say something, but instead, Jiki remained closed-eyed and waited for the man to continue, and there Jiki had the upper hand, for his patience was a thing of myth. Seeing a lack of response, the old man let out a sad sigh before continuing.
"Do you truly hate me so much that you'd handicap yourself instead of learning from me?"
He wanted to stay silent, but he refused to allow the allegations to slide. "I do not hate you, Tatsumi-sama." Yet even as the words left his lips, he knew them for false. Not exactly false, but there was a touch of untruth to it, and Jiki was self-aware enough to note it as his eyes opened and his brows scrunched.
"Even you do not believe those words, at least not totally. Maybe hate is not the right word. So let me use something else. You have not forgiven me for that day."
And here Jiki found himself unable to deny it. He thought he had. Assumed it had been washed off his back like all the times he had been forced to lay down his free will on the altar of sacrifice once more for those he loved.
But he hadn't, just as he hadn't forgotten that day. Now Jiki was forced to think, forced to recollect vividly. Despite his efforts with reverse engineering the iryo-nin techniques of his past life, he had failed and had never even bothered to give the old man a chance because of the choice that he had forced him to make.
Yet if he never made that choice, he would never have formed the new bonds he would've in this life. Brave and reckless Maki, timid and smart Emi, gregarious and loyal Panda, and finally somber and solid Toge. Without making that choice that night, he would never have been a pillar that Satoru could rely on and the pressure on his cousin would have been heavier.
He would've spent his days living a carefree life, painting and indulging a happier Aiko. And the world would have been lesser and weaker for it.
He found himself letting out a long sigh, as his brows smoothed back and his eyes closed once more. Perhaps it was time to let it go. For even if it was a choice he had been forced to make, it was one that he believed he would've made anyway, if only because in the end, Satoru reminded him so much of his brother. The happy boy who had been scarred by Itachi's deeds.
So he shifted from his seiza and bowed. His head to the ground and palms pressed flat to the ground as he said, "Gojo Jiki requests tutoring from former clan head Gojo Tatsumi."
It was time to let go.
…
This was his first holiday and an end to the school year, so when he was not in the depths of the Gojo clan alongside the old man, learning the surprisingly simple act of adding two negatives to create a positive - once again he cursed Satoru and Shoko because just with that single phrase, he was smart enough to put it together and go up in leaps and bounds. That aside, he spent the rest of his time with Aiko.
It had been a soothing couple of weeks, and they were merely days away from resuming the new session. And with that resumption came a lot of new challenges. Confirmation of Panda and Toge's health. He had not heard anything about them yet from shoko. Then there was the recent elder summon he had ignored unabashedly.
They still refused to believe his words on Toji's death, which he didn't honestly blame them for. The lie was flimsy, especially without a body. They were scared of the hold they had on him slipping and content in Satoru's presence as a blunt hammer to bash away their enemies. So knowing what the summons were about, he had shrugged it off and ignored it till they tired of it. They had stopped after discovering that one of their own had been missing, their attention shifting to something else. Instead of worrying about them, he focused on better things.
They walked down the entertainment districts hand in hand, and Aiko was furiously pointing towards different things. If she was distracted enough, she would drag him into whatever particular store drew her fancy, and they would either take turns trying on new outfits or whatever weird Western food Aiko had heard about. That was how he ended up in an all-black tab-collar shirt with white buttons to match, coupled with a pair of black trousers. She had noted how good it looked on him, and like with all things Aiko, he had succumbed to her will, unable to tell her how similar it was to Geto's dressing before he went rogue.
That was how their days usually went. Two people, one relaxing and mending from what he had experienced and the loss he had gotten, while another, more wholesome, more naive to the true cruelties of this world, went about with a constant smile on her face.
Jiki glanced at the near-euphoric look on her face as she tried a particular Western food: Bolognese spaghetti, and he smiled in return. He honestly wouldn't have had it any other way.
It was on this day, the sun was down, the night walkers had already begun to walk the streets with their partners, and the shops that preferred the hustle and bustle of daytime had begun to close while the ones that flourished with the nighttime audience had begun to open.
They sat inside a restaurant, and Aiko tried her best to devour the plate of spaghetti as fast as she could. She had forgotten the story she had been telling him the moment she took a bite of her meal, and Jiki didn't mind. Instead, he took another sip of his drink as he stared out the window. That was when he saw him, or them, to be more accurate.
A young boy walking and talking to himself, or that's what it might have looked like from a regular person's perceptions, but anybody with a shred of cursed energy running in their body would recognize the boy's partner as a curse. A humanoid curse with an extensive patchwork of scars and stitches criss crossing his body.
Jiki watched them walk past from his chair in the restaurant, and just as they were about to walk past the two-way glass, the curse's attention drifted to him. One gray and one blue eye stared at his swirling red and black.
It was fleeting, but he recognized the look in the curse's eyes. Curiosity. Like he had seen a new toy for the first time and was wondering how to take it apart, and if it was interesting, put it back together in whatever fashion that made the most fun. A child's curiosity.
"Come on, Mahito!" the boy called out from ahead of the two-way mirror, and the curse, Mahito, gave him a brief wave and began to walk forward once more to catch up with the boy.
The whole scene had left Jiki immensely curious. A humanoid curse, possibly a special grade, and a boy. An unregistered sorcerer. He didn't recognize the boy nor did he see any clan markings to affiliate him with a clan. Neither were there any obvious bindings or anything that linked the two together, so it was a relationship that had no chains. No masters.
So what was a maybe unregistered special-grade curse doing with a young impressionable civilian sorcerer?
"You've been looking out the window for the past few minutes," Aiko finally spoke, and he shifted the full weight of his attention back to her. She had finished her plate of food, and the sight of sauce on her face brought another soft smile to his lips.
'Have I?" He rebutted.
"Yeah, you have. You didn't even hear me the first time I—hey, why are you smiling?"
He took up a napkin and stretched over the table to dab at her lips with a smile. The act caused her to blush furiously as she tried to maintain a coherent train of thought. Realizing it was no use, she instead shifted tracks.
"An—anyway, what was I saying earlier?"
Jiki smiled again at the attempts to change topics but went along with it with a shrug as he put his elbow on the table and his face in his hands to stare at her better before replying.
"You were talking about how one of the maids stepped on old man Tatsumi's robes and forced him to fall down a pair of steps."
"AHA!" With that exclamation and laugh, she continued the story, and Jiki allowed his attention to drift as he sent the four cursed crows that lay perched at multiple strategic locations to follow the strange duo.
The original curse had split into four over the past few weeks, and it didn't take him long to figure out its technique. It was a good thing that even after it multiplied, he still had control over it.
So he shifted his focus back to Aiko as the birds went to sate his curiosity.
…
Ito Emi was uncertain, and not for the first time since she made the choice that changed her life. She woke up with an accelerated heartbeat, which happened at least twice a night. Scared, wide eyes darted around the room as she tried her best to shake off what she knew was a nightmare.
She put her hand between her head and rocked herself on her ass as she sat alone on the bed in the otherwise empty and spartan room. A reminder of the room she had stayed in for years. A room that a suited man had broken her out of.
She still remembered it like it was yesterday.
"You said you see demons." A rough and gruff voice called out from above her, and she raised her head up from the drawing she was making. She hunched over it as she raised her head to look. Hiding the image of a snake like monster hovering over a nurses head.
He was a big man. Stern features hidden behind a pair of shades, well-built and dressed in a corporate cream-striped suit and a blue undershirt. One of the senior doctors? She shook her head desperately in denial as she stuttered, "I—I'm cured now. I understand that I was halluci—"
She could see the way something change on the man's face, a sadness creeping in before it hardened once more and he raised a hand up, a hand that glowed bluish purple a second later. She stared in shock, her well-rehearsed lies falling apart, as she stared at the power wafting off the man's hands. "What is that?" She found herself asking as she stared transfixed.
"It is cursed energy, and if you can see it... You're a sorcerer, Ito Emi, and you have no place here."
Just like that, she was given a choice.
She couldn't return to bed now, so she slipped out of her bed and took off an oversized shirt from the hanger. Slipping her legs into a pair of slides, she found her way out of the room.
It didn't take her long to walk towards the door that marked the entrance of the female student dormitory. Her eyes glanced at Maki's door, but just like the rest of the other students, she was not around.
It was the holidays, and everyone had gone back home. Most of them still had something to return to. Even Maki had left with a vague note of wanting to see her sister
That left her, the sole student in Jujutsu High ignoring the resident sorcerers that lived on the campus. That particular group had been cut down drastically both from fear and Geto Suguru's rampage. For all Jiki spoke highly of him and he didn't aim at killing any of the students, the man had not shown the same restraint with the few sorcerers that had been stationed on campus.
She found her way to the entrance and stepped out of the corridor. The stars were bright, she noted. And if she squinted a bit, especially with the darkness, she could ignore the scars that marked the night of a thousand parade as they littered the school.
She let out another sigh as she remembered how much the stars reminded her of her time back in that hell. When she stared from barred gates and in clothes that strapped her hands to her body, as she tried her best to ignore the gibbering and whimpering of both curses and humans that staggered around the hospital.
She had dreamt of the outside world for so long that when the chance came to see it once more, she had not cared. Had not considered what it would mean to be a sorcerer. Instead, she had grabbed the chance, uncaring of what might follow it.
Not that she regretted it, she admitted to herself with a smile as she turned back and found her way back into the building. If she never made that choice, she would've never left that room with the barred windows.
After all, how was a sane person supposed to prove they were sane when they kept flinching in fear at things that no one else could see? But she had made that choice, taken the hand that had been stretched to her, and she didn't regret it in the slightest.
She had gotten to meet Jiki, Maki, Toge… Panda. She felt a sob rack through her, and she put her hands to her mouth to strangle the cry, regardless of the fact that she was alone in the building. She was not a kid anymore; she was no longer the girl in the dark room.
The squeak of hinges on a door opening tore through the silence of the night, and immediately she found herself freezing in place. An attack? She doubted. She was not important enough to be attacked. She was not a clan scion like Jiki or Toge, neither had she offended any clan or the higher-ups like Maki and Hakari-san had done.
That removed an attack from the probabilities, yet she found it impossible to relax. Instead, she found her eyes drifting to the door of her room and scanning her surroundings. She regretted not stepping out with a blade, yet she knew she was not completely useless without it. She had a technique now, one she had hidden while practicing to show it off to Jiki. Till she was forced to reveal it to survive Toji Fushiguro's blow, and even with that, she barely made it out with her life.
Yet it was enough. Enough to survive a single hit from the sorcerer killer, and that reminder was enough to give her the strength and confidence to breathe out easily. Instead of sinking into panic, she cleared her mind as much as possible and let out another breath. A technique Jiki had taught her for clearing her mind and compacting her thoughts, and just like everything he taught them, it worked remarkably well for each of them.
The second breath had her straightening up her body as she slowly walked toward the still slightly open door. Curse energy primed and technique ready to be fueled. Yet, the moment she opened the slightly ajar door and walked in, she was floored and subsequently lost control of her cursed energy. Still, she found that she was not scared.
Instead, her eyes drifted, and the first thing that left her surprised lips were words instead of a scream. "It's bigger on the inside."
"Yes, it is."
That reply brought back all the fear and sense of danger as she found herself taking control of her cursed energy once more and rapidly adopting a combat stance.
In the middle of the impossible room sat a figure. Even with the half-formed sensor training that Jiki had put her through, it was enough to let her know there was something eerie about the creature in front of her. The creature possessed four eyes with a cylinder-shaped head that featured no hair at all. The rest of its body was further hidden behind a beige robe.
"What—what?" She stammered out as she stood confused, still in her combat stance, yet the weird figure still sat relaxed, heedless of her readiness to fight.
"You're not the most curious thing I've seen this century; that spot is taken by that malevolent eye child's birth."
She stood stunned, unsure of what to reply, because she understood who she was talking about—Jiki—and once again, she found herself wondering about her teacher. It was not the first time something weird referred to his birth and presence as unnatural. She still remembered that vessel in the depths of the abandoned hospital surrounded by corpses.
"Yet unlike him, you interest me. Truly interest me. Now how did you, a child of civilian origins, do it?"
With those words, Emi's heart froze as she realized the creature in front of her knew.
Had to fight the urge to say "Yer a sorcerer Emi-chan" - In Hagrid's voice.
"It's bigger on the inside" - was probably heavily influenced by Doctor Who and The Tardis. I didn't even know till i re-read it.
Anyway a calmer chapter till we get into the mess that's coming up. Also been sick, a big reason for my more sporadic updates. No chapter next week, but things should return back to normal from the 27th. Along with an Update on AOMR.