Chapter Text
‘We’re not killing him, right?’
Satoru Gojo smiled as he finished securing the bindings on Yuuji Itadori. The guy was still wiped out from the love tap he got to the head. ‘Why? You think he’s cute?’
You rolled your eyes and leaned against one of the walls covered in talismans. ‘Fushiguro tell you that?’
‘You do think he’s cute!’ Gojo pouted and slouched down in the chair across from Itadori.
‘Jealous?’
‘You know I am,’ he mumbled. You scoffed and tilted your head back. After a few moments of comfortable silence, he finally added, ‘No. We’re not executing him. Not yet anyway.’
‘Oh? How’d you pull that off with Headquarters?’
He grinned and tilted his head toward you. ‘My winning smile and overpowering charm.’
‘How could they resist,’ you deadpanned.
‘Hey.’ You glanced at him. He suddenly had that serious tone. The one that said he was going to act his age for once. ‘What Sukuna said to you? Don’t think we’re not going to talk about that later.’
It took him longer to address it than you thought, but you knew it was coming. It wasn’t every day the King of Curses reincarnated and called you his ‘wife’ after a thousand years in purgatory. If you weren’t so great at compartmentalising, you’d be tearing your hair out with panic. As it was, you had more pressing matters to worry about. Like the suspiciously strong college student that was slowly regaining consciousness.
You jerked your chin toward Itadori, directing Gojo’s too perceptive six eyes in his direction as you folded your arms and settled more heavily against the wall.
‘Good morning,’ Gojo cooed.
Itadori groaned as he came to. You could imagine the pounding headache he must have. He squinted as he glanced around at the talismans preventing him – Sukuna – from busting out. His eyes settled on you, recognition filling his features as his attention flicked between you and Gojo.
‘Hey, wait… Aren’t you…’
‘Satoru Gojo. I’m head of the first-years at Jujutsu College,’ Gojo said, leaning against the back of his chair. ‘And this here is my lovely assistant, Y/N.’
You bit back a retort. An assistant you were not, though you were technically lending Gojo a hand for an indefinite while. You were travelling in Europe when you got the call from him. ‘Time to come home,’ he had said, as though home weren’t some curse you were running from.
‘Jujutsu? Fushiguro… Where is he?!’ Itadori lurched forward in a panic, no doubt recalling the grade 2 curse that had him and Megumi on the back foot. Until, of course, he lost his mind and decided to swallow a special grade cursed object. And who said the hair of the dog didn’t work?
‘What the hell is this?’ Itadori said, glancing back at the ropes that kept him secure.
‘I wouldn’t be worrying about others right now, Yuuji Itadori,’ Gojo said, ever the theatric. ‘You see, it’s been decided that you’re to be secretly executed.’
ONE DAY EARLIER
‘They’re keeping a cursed object here in a place like this? Could they be any more stupid?’ Megumi Fushiguro mumbled as you approached the unassuming thermometer box on Sugisawa College grounds.
‘I try not to question the decisions Jujutsu Headquarters make, lest I start losing IQ points.’ You stifled a yawn. It was far too early in the morning for this, you decided. The sun isn’t even awake yet, why should I be?
Fushiguro offered you a rare smile, one that was quickly wiped when he opened the cabinet to find it empty. He began searching in and around the hutch, but when he couldn’t seem to conjure the cursed object out of thin air, he turned his tired eyes to you. You groaned and let your head fall back as you dug your mobile out of your pocket.
Getou answered on the second ring. ‘Well, if it isn’t my favourite jujutsu sorcerer in the whole wide world.’
‘There’s nothing here,’ you said, ignoring his playful tone.
‘Huh?’
‘The Stevenson Screen, Gojo. It’s empty.’
‘For real? That’s hilarious! Maybe it took a nighttime stroll,’ he mused.
‘This isn’t funny. I don’t want to be out here this early. Where the hell is this thing?’
‘How should I know? I didn’t put it there,’ he defended. ‘What are you doing there? I sent Fushiguro on this mission. He can do it.’
‘This is a special grade cursed item. Fushiguro is grade 2.’
‘He’ll be fine,’ Gojo said, drawing the word out like he wasn’t suggesting his first-year student should put their life on the line for some old, cursed object. ‘Just tell him no going home until it’s recovered, okay?’
‘Gojo–’
‘Come back soon. Bye!’
You gritted your teeth as the line went dead.
‘What did he say?’ Fushiguro said as you returned to him, pocketing your mobile.
‘That the cursed object probably took a “midnight stroll” and you can’t return until you find it,’ you said.
He sighed. ‘I’m going to punch him.’
‘Get in line. He wants you to do this one on your own, so I’m heading back.’
‘Quiter.’
You narrowed your eyes at him, noting the playful glint in his. ‘I’m not built for early mornings. Excuse me for putting myself first. Lord knows no one else at Jujutsu College will.’
Fushiguro nodded and turned away, glancing off into the night across the school grounds. Leave, you told yourself. Head home. Get another five hours of sleep. Do not, under any circumstances, stay.
You sighed. ‘Come on. I’ll help you find a lead, at least.’ He looked back at you, hope lighting up his expression. ‘But that’s it. We find a lead and you pull your own weight from there.’
Another small smile graced his face. ‘Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate it.’
****
By the afternoon, you regretted your decision to lend a hand. A whole day had passed, and you were no closer to finding the cursed object. All you could feel were the residuals. A pressing darkness that kept trying to curl its way around your heart. Leeching at your warmth like a dog curled up in front of a fireplace.
Your chest felt red raw as you scratched at it once again. Fushiguro had led you back to the rugby field. He could feel it too, you figured. The suffocating remnants of some great evil that enticed nearby cursed spirits.
‘What’s with this rugby field?’ he said as the two of you watched a curse swim through the ground and curl its way up the goal post. ‘Is there a dead body buried here or something?’
Fushiguro tucked his hands into his pockets as you glanced around. ‘Even if there is, I’m surprised to see a cursed spirit this high level here. It looks like a grade 2 curse. Must be the influence of that cursed object.’
He sighed and you watched as frustration began to take root in his jaw. ‘Damn… Its presence is too strong to pin down. It feels like it’s close by, but it actually could be far away.’
As he pulled his mobile back out to stare at the picture Gojo had sent of it, you clapped him on the shoulder and steered him up the stairs leading away from the field.
‘We’ll find it. I have faith,’ you said.
He didn’t respond. His thoughts appeared to consume him as he mulled over where the cursed object could possibly be now. You were more interested in knowing who could have moved it, but you focused on Fushiguro.
Gojo asked you to come back to help keep an eye on his students. He didn’t seem to care much if he was pushing them too hard. You understood the benefits of that, to an extent. It was important for Jujutsu College students to develop resilience and self-confidence. They walked the line between life and death every day as jujutsu sorcerers. You couldn’t go easy on them and let them slack off. But as you saw Fushiguro’s eye twitch and his jaw clench, you could only think of Getou and the dark spiral that ended in his death.
You heart ached. Grief reared its ugly head from the box you had long ago shoved it inside. You placed a hand on Fushiguro’s shoulder and stopped him. He looked at you. Trusting eyes. A determined set to his jaw.
He’s not Getou. Don’t project.
And yet the words tumbled from your mouth anyway. ‘Megumi… if this becomes too much, you’ll tell me, won’t you?’
He tilted his head, brow furrowed as he searched your face. Then a softness filled his eyes. A gentle kind of vulnerability. He opened his mouth – and a group of students began shouting as they ran by.
‘Hey, come here! Check this out! Coach Takagi is taking on Itadori from West Middle!’ one said.
‘Wow, what are they competing for?’ another responded.
The moment drifted away from you and Fushiguro turned his back, following the students toward the upper soccer field. You followed and tried not to see Getou in every stride he took.
There was a competition happening on the field. Shot-put, it looked like. From what you could gather from the gossip, one of the coaches had challenged a student. You and Fushiguro stuck to the outskirts, watching as the coach celebrated his 14-metre throw. Not bad, but after all the time you spent with sorcerers, it was hard to be impressed by the skills of a non-sorcerer.
Then the student stepped up to the plate. He was tall and lean. A pink mop of hair on top of his head. Couldn’t have been any older than 22 you guessed. You smiled as the students began to chant his name – Itadori. Seemed like he had a bit of a reputation. It was sweet, but you didn’t think he’d land a throw anywhere close to the coach’s.
Looks didn’t mean anything in the world of jujutsu sorcerers, but among humans, it was fairly easy to tell someone’s physical capabilities by looking at them. Of course, that thought went right out the window when Itadori decided to throw the shot like a pitcher and sent it sailing through the soccer goal post over 30 metres away.
‘Well fuck,’ you muttered.
‘That guy’s incredible,’ Fushiguro added. The two of you began to follow the other students out, pausing to watch Itadori talk with two friends.
You hummed and tilted your head as Itadori caught sight of the two of you. A smile curled your lips as you admired the width of his shoulders, the way they filled out his oversized jumper. The shaggy hair really worked for him. Hell, it was really working for you.
‘He pulled off that shot without using any cursed energy. I wonder if he’s like Zen’in,’ Fushiguro said, watching him as well. Though for entirely different reasons, you were sure.
‘Possibly,’ you said. ‘Hm, he’s kind of cute, no?’
You flirtatiously wiggled your fingers at Itadori, smiling as his face went red. He pointed at himself and gave you a questioning look.
Fushiguro scoffed in disgust and grabbed your arm. ‘Let’s go. We don’t have time for your libido right now.’
‘But she’s been so good lately,’ you whined, pouting as you tried to give Itadori another sultry look over your shoulder while Fushiguro dragged you away.
Only moments later, you heard Itadori shout, ‘Later, Coach! Got stuff to do!’
Itadori sped past and the world dropped from beneath your feet. Longing. Obsession. They gripped at your heart. Like a hand reaching out as it passed you. As Itadori passed you. Fingers tried to grasp at your hand, your hair, your arm, your soul. It pulled. Hard. But it was too weak. The link broke and Itadori was gone.
You sucked in a breath and stumbled against Fushiguro. He grasped your shoulders to steady you. ‘You felt that too?’ he said.
You nodded. ‘The presence of a cursed object. You need to catch up to him.’ You doubled over, clutching at your chest as your heart palpitated. The presence lingered around you, like a shadow, or echo of something.
‘Y/N–’
‘Go. I’ll be fine.’
‘He’s… gone.’
You glanced up, sucking in another deep breath as the presence began to dissipate. Sure enough, Itadori was nowhere in sight. ‘Huh? How is he that fast?’
‘I heard he can run the 50 meters in 3 seconds,’ a passing student whispered to their friend.
‘Faster than my car!’ the friend responded.
You and Fushiguro balked and shared a look.
****
‘You have your lead. I need to head back to Jujutsu College now, but give me a call if you need help,’ you said as you stood by your car in the parking lot of Sugisawa College. ‘Or Gojo, but I guarantee I’m more reliable.’
Fushiguro smiled at your teasing grin. ‘Thanks again for your help. You didn’t have to stick around all day and do the grunt work with me. I appreciate it. I’ll take care of the rest from here.’
You nodded, fishing your keys out of your pocket. Just as you unlocked the car, Fushiguro said your name. You glanced up at him, half in your car, half out.
‘I would tell you,’ he said after a moment. ‘If this all became too much. If I couldn’t see a way out. I think you’re the only person I could tell.’
Relief coated your heart in a soothing balm. You looked at Fushiguro and this time you didn’t see Getou. You saw his father. The soft parts of Toji that you didn’t think many people got to witness. The parts you missed the most. Your heart ached again, for all the wrong reasons.
‘Stay safe, Megumi. I’ll see you when you come home,’ you told him. You slipped into your car and shut the door on the million other things you wanted to say. He wasn’t Getou. He wasn’t Toji. And you weren’t the woman you were when you loved them all those years ago.
The drive from Sendai back to Tokyo was long and quiet. Your thoughts kept you company, despite how you wished they would keep quiet. Not even music could drown them out. They jumped around your shoulders and screeched in your ear. Being back home, back in Japan, in this place that took so much from you, it was like a boulder on your heart.
You thought of the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons. Of the last time you ever saw Getou alive. Come with me, Y/N. Please. You thought of the cold look in Gojo’s eyes as you cried over his best friend’s body. It was the same look he had when you cried over Toji’s.
By the time you made it back to Jujutsu College, by the time you saw Gojo’s smiling face, your emotions were raw, your heart exposed.
‘What a refreshing sight,’ he sing-songed as you made your way up the last of the steps and brushed past him. The sun had just sunk behind the horizon, leaving an eerie glow over the grounds as you headed for your dorm.
Gojo caught up to you, turning to walk backwards as he studied your face through that eye mask of his. ‘What happened? Fushiguro okay?’
‘He’s fine.’
‘The cursed object– ’
‘Is being handled. Just like you wanted.’
He hummed. ‘I hope so. Headquarters just called me in to see them. To complain about the fact it’s still missing, I’m sure.’
You ignored him. Hoped it would be enough for him to leave you alone. It wasn’t. You should have known it wouldn’t be. He stopped in front of you, halting you in your path. He tilted his head and you almost slapped him.
He smiled. Bent at the hips until he was hovering over you. ‘You look like you want to hit me. You mad or something?’
‘No.’
‘Good. I didn’t do anything wrong.’
You rolled your eyes and shoulder checked him as you pushed past. He allowed the contact to push through his infinity barrier. Why, you couldn’t say, but you long ago stopped caring why Gojo did the things he did. Trying to understand him had only ever brought you pain. And you tried not to miss the time it didn’t.
But Gojo didn’t let you go without a fight. He grabbed your upper arm and pulled you back. It was a gentle hold. As gentle as Gojo could be. But the way his fingers pressed against your skin brought back every moment you had once begged him to touch you. You snapped.
You turned on him and shook his hand off. ‘Don’t touch me.’
His lips parted. He straightened. ‘You used to like the way I touched you.’ The words sounded like they were just another one of his teasing jokes, but his heart wasn’t in it. The sentence fell to the ground between you like some long dead thing.
You gritted your teeth. ‘What am I doing here, Gojo? Why did you ask me to come back?’
‘I told you. I don’t trust anyone else to look after my students the same way I do.’
‘Bullshit. You’re surrounded by people you trust. Nanami and Masamichi for starters. You don’t need me here.’
Gojo smiled and tilted his head again. In that way you once found endearing and sweet. Now it felt too much like he was mocking you. ‘I’ll always need you, Y/N. Remember?’
‘Remember? Far too much has happened for us to be leaning on some stupid promise we made to each other in college.’
His smile faded. ‘It’s not stupid.’
Your hands shook. You curled them into fists so he couldn’t see the memories you held in your hands. ‘You want me to stick around and help you? Fine. I’ll do that. You asked me to come home. I did. I’m here. But don’t stand here and act like everything is okay between us, Gojo, because it’s not.’
He stood there and stared at you. You stood there and tried not to cry. You wanted to hit him. You wanted to hurt him. But more than anything, you wanted to kiss him. And you hated that most of all.
You turned away from him. Hesitated. ‘Fushiguro has a lead on the cursed object. I’m sure he’ll call you soon with an update. Let me know if he needs me.’
‘What if I need you?’
‘You don’t.’
You left him then, standing beneath the rising moon, and wondered how disappointed your past selves would be in you now.