Chapter Text
I never thought I'd be a killer
'Cause there's so much to lose
But if I can't drink the water
What else can I do?
Chapter 1 : The Gaijin
It’s been a while since you've got such good pay.
You stare at your bank account and the many zeros after the one, and although you know yens and euros are not counted on the same scale, you still know enough to smile at your phone and the nice price you’ve got for that curse you’ve killed the other day.
Yes, moving to Japan was definitely the better idea. You think back of all your friends trying to dissuade you to leave, judging you for prioritizing work over the greater good, for partaking in the decreasing of the European exorcists population so you could go to the Land of the Rising Sun and raise you bank account’s numbers, and you think to yourself : I was so right not to listen to you.
You regret nothing when you get down from the train, checking Leto followed you from the sky. Hell, even train stations are better in Japan. You adjust your backpack over your shoulder and head to the bus stop, because you’ve still got one more vehicle to take before reaching their Jujutsu high school. You like the way it sounds.
“Jujutsu…” you murmur to yourself with a smile. The Japanese ‘u’ is very nice to pronounce. Fortunately, you have a good Japanese, you’ve learnt the language for years before coming here. You consider yourself a good speaker, at least that’s what many Japanese people have told you so far. You take pride in your language skills.
It’s crazy for you that they have exorcism schools. That means they have enough exorcists born every year to have a school year, even though it’s not many, it’s still way more than you have in the whole European continent. You’re lucky if you have one or two exorcist born through the year, it’s mostly a generational thing, and the gene seems to skip most children in most exorcists families. There are definitely not enough young exorcists to make a school for them.
Unfortunately, Tengen’s barrier forbids Leto to come inside the perimeter of the school. You finish climbing the many, many, many stairs leading to the temple. You’re panting, supporting yourself on your knees when you mentally curse old traditional Japan and its stupid obsession with stupid stairs. You curse them even more knowing this could all be avoided through a digital notice or a mail or something modern to give you the information and sign up for your next mission, but no: Japan and its love for traditional stuff. They do have the technology to call you and give you your next mission, but you have to follow the traditional way of receiving missions that hasn’t changed since the Heian era, 1000 years ago.
You’re still panting with a sweaty red face when you reach the school building, where you know some higher-up will give you your next mission, but when you knock on the office, no one answers. You wait, but maybe they didn’t hear? You don’t want to come off as rude, so you wait a little before knocking a second time. Then again, no answer.
You hesitate. Should you go inside and check? First, you look at your watch: it’s 10:45pm, you were supposed to meet at 10:30am. You hear a whistle coming closer, along with some footsteps in the hallway, so you get closer to intercept this person.
“Hello, excuse-me,” you come across a tall man with white hair and a blindfold. Your heart stops when you realize who that is. “Holy shit, no way.”
That’s the Gojo Satoru. One of the two strongest exorcists in the world, and holder of the Infinity and Six Eyes curses. This man is the equivalent of nuclear bombs, which he can repeat on and on without ever running out of cursed energy. You knew he’d be in Japan, you knew he was teaching in this school, and you did count on meeting him at least once, but when you arrived to get your first mission they told you he was abroad for some work. You didn’t expect to meet him at the crossing of a hallway, whistling some Jingle Bell tune.
“You’re Gojo Satoru, right?” you ask although you know it damn well.
You would love to say that you first saw his face through some exorcists’ old book which would hold the portraits of the great names of your History, and he’s probably in one of those, but the truth is, the first time you saw him was when your friend ran to you to show you a video of this guy doing a TikTok dance on Baby Shark with two younger exorcists who appeared to be his students. The whole exorcist community throughout the world was gagged when they saw this. The non-exorcist community? Even more. They found him to be a hot man dancing with two younger cousins or something, they didn’t know, but they found this so lovely that the TikTok went viral. The girl on the video realized that and made more videos with her hot teacher – smart girl, you thought – on ridiculous or funny TikTok dances. Eventually, the man figured how that social network worked, and made a TikTok account of his own, where he now posts all sorts of videos, does TikTok lives, and technically he’s not even doing thirst traps, but you know he’s aware of his charms – everybody does – and he funnily acknowledges the thirsty comments that people leave for his beautiful electric blue eyes and perfect body.
You realize how much taller and more muscular he is in real life than he looks on video. His shoulders seem larger, his chest stronger, but his waist looks tinier. He’s really the hottest man in the world, and the strongest. Maybe that’s linked. His full lips spread in a confident smirk when he realizes he’s about to be idolized by none other than you – and you’d hate to act like a fangirl, but also, that’s Gojo Fucking Satoru. You can’t see his blue eyes as they’re hidden behind his blindfold for now, but you’ve seen them on his TikTok – you follow strictly for professional reasons, of course.
“I am, and you must be the Gaijin exorcist, right?” he responds almost on the same tone as you, if it wasn’t for his absolute confidence. Curiously, as confident and cocky as he can behave, you find him much more likable than on his TikTok. He’s cocky, but not haughty, which isn’t much of a difference, but can make all the difference.
You’ll have to get used to that new Gaijin title. You know it’s not very common for abroad exorcists to move to Japan, more usually the contrary. Gaijin means foreigner in Japan, and since they don’t have many of you in the exorcism world, it’s definitely going to be how people identify you.
More than anything, you realize Gojo Satoru knows about you. That’s like Brad Pitt hearing about a barely rising star, not in Hollywood, but in her own town’s theatre. Sure, you’ve got the leading role in Mamma Mia in your town, but that’s Brad Pitt. Well, sure, you’re one of the best exorcists in Europe, but that’s Gojo Satoru.
Okay, enough with the simping. Behave like a grown adult now, you scold yourself mentally. He’s just a guy doing his job, do not idolize him.
“Can I get a picture?”
You smack yourself mentally for this, but damn, you can’t wait to show this to all of your friends who told you it was stupid to move out of Europe.
You hate that Gojo Satoru seems used to it, because you hate that you’ve acted as one of the many fangirls he’s met. However, Satoru seems happy about it, he’s very chill and even takes the phone to take the picture himself. He poses with the peace sign and a smile so beautiful that it could kill legions. When he gives your phone back, he’s about to walk away, but you remember why you went to him in the first place and call:
“Wait! I wanted to ask, do you know where Mister Morishige is?”
He smirks and tilts his head to the side in a funny expression. A slight frown translates through the blindfold, you can even guess the expression in his eyes when he says, “Mistah.”
Right, you used the western way of talking about someone. His accent is cute though. He thinks yours is. You blush a little, but you’re impatient.
“Morishige-sama, sorry,” you say.
He snorts, “I don’t care, don’t worry, it was cute,” he assures, before tilting his head at the hallway behind you with the closed door to the higher-up’s office. “Morishige’s not here this morning, he sent a note a week ago,” he declares, which is surprising. You also notice the way he doesn’t use suffixes for the man’s name. He doesn’t respect him much, but it’s not surprising giving his character.
You don’t have time to think about his character though. You’re more concerned about your now cancelled meeting, and your job. The money you’ve earned from your first mission was good, but it barely covers the price of the plane ticket to get here and the furniture you have to buy for your new apartment, as well as the first rent and the deposit you had to pay early on. You’ll still have money, but not as much as you could normally use in a month without all of these extra fees. You need a second mission if you want to be able to buy food next week.
“A week?” you repeat, astonished. “Why didn’t he warn me?”
Satoru shrugs, “He’s racist.”
Ha.
Ok. Whatever.
“That makes sense.”
Satoru pouts to confirm, and you look behind at the empty office. This old bitch of a trashy man, of course he hates foreigners… now what are you going to do? You’ll have to send an email to Ijichi, he’s the one they told you to refer to and the communication between the higher-ups and you. They’ve got many other assistants, which is crazy to you. In Europe, you barely have any exorcists, so having some of them sitting at an office doing nothing but sending others to their missions, through other weaker exorcists that could be considered relay for the strongest exorcists to go and take care the curses,… it’s absolutely crazy.
In Europe, you search for your next mission by yourself, negotiate prices with the people asking for help by yourself, and you move at our own expense. Here, they’ll find the commission for you, give it to you depending on the grade – grades, they even consider levels! –, even pay for the trip there and pay you afterwards, and you’ll have to arrange the next meeting via an assistant when you want another mission, or they’ll contact you through him when they have one to give.
However, that means as long as you don’t meet these guys, you’re jobless.
“He should be back this afternoon,” Satoru tells you. You face him to see he seems to empathize with your problem, or maybe he just wants to piss off the old man. “Just wait here until he’s back and you can sign up for your next mission then.”
You scrunch your nose, “And what am I gonna do here?”
He turns around and gestures to follow him, “You can come with me to my classes, I needed another pro to teach my students how to fight.”
“You don’t have colleagues?” you question, although you follow suit. A class with Gojo Satoru? You’re signing up quicker than your shadow.
“I do but one’s busy and the other one is grumpy.”
“Huh?”
He doesn’t respond, because he enters a classroom at the corner of the hallway and claims happily: “Ladies and gentlemen and Megumi, may I introduce you to your newest opponent, the great and undefeatable…!”
He makes the last syllable last a moment, and you stare at the kids, who are staring at him. Two look unbothered while the third one seems pretty excited. You recognize the girl and the guy from that famous TikTok.
The girl crosses her arms on her chest, she’s annoyed at her teacher. “Admit it, you don’t know her name.”
Satoru frowns visibly under his blindfold, he’s pouting like a kid, “That’s not true!”
He never asked your name, but he has the audacity to go, “May I introduce you to the great and undefeatable Maria Smith!”
This bitch just threw the most common European names he could think of and went with it. You’re baffled.
“Maria Smith!” exclaims the guy with the pink hair from the TikTok. “Woaaah! Amazing!” he has stars in his eyes, you can’t believe how he’s drinking his sensei’s words so easily. You sigh and shake your head before you introduce yourself. The two others barely nod to greet you, but the third once again speaks your real name this time before repeating that it’s amazing. Satoru tries to save himself with a “that’s what I said,” but you don’t really care. You’ve gathered the character fast enough.
You meet with Nobara, Yuuji and Megumi, the first year students. They’re pretty kind – despite Nobara and Megumi’s visible constant annoyance at their teacher – and very cool kids. Yuuji is an angel, and somehow you can’t help but stare a little at him. It’s like he reminds you of someone else now that you’re facing him, but you can’t remember who, so you let it slide for now.
You’d love to follow a lesson by Gojo Satoru, but you quickly realize there’s no such thing as a lesson by Gojo Satoru. He dragged you in for this very reason: to fight his students. That’s what he calls a lesson.
*
When the afternoon comes, you can finally go to Mishiroge's office to claim your next job. The man looks startled to see you, he probably wasn’t expecting it: you understand he did try to short-circuit your next mission. You discuss it with him, before figuring out he gave your mission to someone else. He didn't actually want you to do it, but it's on him.
You will do it. You don't care. You demand the papers still, and he tells you it's useless, but a little threat with your powers and the paper is yours.
You grab your jacket and go back outside, where Leto is waiting for you to fly away. It's a curse born from the fear of raptors. You caught it instead of killing it when you went on a mission in the south of France to kill it, as you saw potential in riding a bird of prey. It's fast, useful, and powerful. You just have to be careful to carry your talisman around your neck when you ride it so that a special curtain covers you to the eyes of non-exorcists. After you captured it, you trained it to obey humans, not to eat them, which was a very long and strenuous process, especially for a curse that size. You had to be rigorous and regular too, which is not your forte, but your hard work paid off and now you can enjoy a nice ride in the sky instead of public transport.
When you land in the town of your mission, the first thing you do is interrogate the locals. What happened here from their perspective? What did they see? Where did the victims disappear exactly? What was their common point?
You deduce that the disappearances all appeared in the forest separating the town from a football field, where a body was found buried 5 years ago. You guess easily it's not the ghost of anyone, but the fear of the urban legend that started to go about the woods surrounding the field that created that curse. By the night, you walk there, decided to be the one to exorcise this curse to prove these old conservators you can do the job as well as any Japanese exorcist.
The woods are vast but somehow, they feel suffocating as you walk through the darkness. The air is cold. It chokes your lungs from the inside, makes you unsure if you want to keep breathing that bone-chilling atmosphere. Your footsteps echo loudly in the silence that no fly, no bird, no life dares to disrupt by fear for their life. Everyone's instinct is on guard as you proceed on the humid dirt, which soaks your soles in mud with every step you take.
The cracking sound of a wooden stick echoes on your right. You freeze, but a smirk twists your lips as you feel the cursed energy of the curse rising. It's here.
However, what you did not anticipate was a second cursed energy origin. This one is different, far from the curse. If the latter is anxiety inducing and heavy, this one is like a fire, warm but devastating; protective, and powerful.
You only ever felt that once in your life.
Earlier today, when you met Gojo Satoru.
"What the hell are you doing here, kid? That's a mission for grown-ups," a voice as hot and burning as his aura rises. "Get out."
You turn around, expecting to see the shadow a few meters behind you where his voice echoed, but you gasp loudly as you discover the man standing by your very side, his chest inches away from your face. You jolt back in fear, although the sensation of his cursed energy telling he’s one of yours helps you not to attack him on sight.
Your heart is still racing, the curse on the side still rising as you get a hold of your emotions.
"Jesus, who the hell are you?!"
Despite the coat of darkness surrounding his traits, you can still discern how tall and muscular is the man standing in front of you. You can't see much though, maybe messy hair, maybe a shirt, but that's about it. You hold your chest to control your own heart as you look up to his face.
"I asked the question first. This isn't your mission, you are not allowed in this area," the man declares with as much confidence as he does arrogance. "Who are you and how did you get here? You know Japanese cases are protected by a system, we don't work like western folks."
Even in the dark, even though you spoke one single sentence, he guessed you were European. That man must be very perceptive, and informed. The curse is now jumping on you, so you punch it to send it back thirty meters behind.
"This is my mission. I was transferred here officially; I work under the Japanese exorcism school."
"Jujutsu," he corrects, and you can tell he's doing his best not to grit his teeth. "It's jujutsu."
"Call it jujutsu school or my hero academia, I don't fucking care, I was hired for this mission by your officials," you insist while the monster is already getting back on its feet.
"I was sent on this mission this morning...!"
"It was mine!" you exclaim wrathfully. "Mishiroge gave it to you because he doesn't like me, but it's mine, now give it back!"
"Oh really?"
A mass of cursed flesh roars as it charges your way. The sound is deafening but neither you nor the other exorcist flinches. The man, as simply as one would say hello, extends his arm to the beast when it comes nearby.
It slashes into tiny pieces. In the blink of an eye, the curse is nothing but cubes of flesh dissipating in the air, and the mission you’ve worked hours for is now over.
"Come and take it," the man snaps.
Your jaw drops. You stare in disbelief as your mission vanishes into particles in the air.
"Y-You... You took my kill!" you exclaim, frustrated. "Asshole!"
"Now try and get the pay. Scammer."
Of course, with the analysis on cursed fight scenes they do afterwards, they'll find that this man's energy was the one to get rid of the curse. You now have no chance at getting that pay.
You breathe in deeply as he walks away.
"Alright," you exhale. "I'll fuck you up."
In a flash, you jump on his back like a monkey on its mother, and you start hitting the man. You don't use cursed energy, just your fists and nails, so neither does he. This isn't a matter of exorcism strength, it's a matter of dignity. Or something along those lines. The man screams and complains as he tries to get you off his back.
"You son of a dog, how am I gonna eat this week?! This was my mission! All of you racist conservatives are full of shit, I'm gonna fuck you up and your superior with you and... HA!"
"Fuck off!"
You hit him as much as you can before he grabs your hands. In a swift move, he throws you over his head to lie you on the ground. You decide this is your defeat. You've scratched him enough to soothe your hunger for justice.
"Do that again and you're dead. Are we clear?" the man threatens.
"I'm not scared of you," you lie blatantly, because you can sense the immensity of his power like the ocean around you when you dive away from the coast. It's so vast that if it decided to swallow you whole any time, you wouldn't even have a say in it, not an attack to form to defend yourself. You would just drown.
This man's power feels the exact same way.
"Clearly not enough if you think I'm gonna let you do that shit twice," he retorts.
You do count on humans and their moral codes and ethics to protect you when you attack someone this way without cursed energy. There is a tacit rule between sorcerers that if you don't use any cursed energy to attack each other, then this is a fair fight without exorcism. Fists and teeth and nails.
Maybe you shouldn't be counting on this rule when facing someone that strong, but he didn't use cursed energy on you. This could all be just a bluff. Nevertheless, you watch him get up and walk away. You sit up and watch the stature disappear between the trees. Now that your eyes are used to the dark, you can discern a few more details about him, but not from behind. Rage is still burning your guts, and although you won't hit him again, you still need to negotiate for your pay. You run after the dark figure.
"Okay, okay, you know what? Let's make a deal. I leave you alone if you give me the pay for this one."
"No."
"We can split!" you try, feet hurrying up to follow his pace. He's tall, his legs are way faster than yours.
"Why would I split?"
"Because I need this money," you insist. "The higher-ups take way too long to give me another mission and I just moved in, if... let us split, I just need to get a little cash until next mission."
"I really don't see where this is any of my problem," he keeps walking out of the woods, you will reach the highway soon enough. Yellow street lights lead the way, illuminating your footsteps as you exit the thicket.
You roll your eyes back. "Could you show the tiniest bit of altruism maybe? Empathy?"
He scrunches his nose like you placed a very stinky carpet under it. He's still staring straight in front of him.
"Not my thing."
You guessed that already.
"Yeah, obviously."
He frowns. Suddenly he seems upset that you agree. He gives you a judging side eye that makes your body shiver. A creepy aura appears to follow even the tiniest of his gazes. If you weren't a 1st grade, you don't know if you could've handled it.
"What?" you just can't help but respond. Provocation is in your blood. Spite animates your soul. "You're gonna act offended now? Don't tell me you don't know you're egotistical."
"Do I even know you?" he ticks, annoyed at your fury. "How can you draw conclusions like that without even knowing my name?"
"So now you're gonna come at me for not knowing your name when you didn't even answer me when I asked in the first place?!" you feel your cursed energy slip just a tiny bit.
As you're walking behind him, you both reach an area of the road that is illuminated by streetlights. It becomes more apparent who you're talking to when colors appear and you finally discern the pink hair and crimson red eyes.
"Holy shit."
"I'm Ryoumen Sukuna," he responds, ignoring the obvious shock that's writing itself all over your face. He's still bothered by your presence, "now leave me alone. Drive my car if you want me to pay you, I'm not sharing the reward for this mission."
You stop net. Feeling his power was already one freezing sensation, but knowing who he is, you can't take another step. You actually can't believe you jumped on this man's back to hit him and you're still alive.
You watch in awe as Ryoumen Sukuna, the other strongest sorcerer in the whole wide world, walks away with your salary.
You have actually seen this man in your history books. Far from the type to have a TikTok and fuel it with cute lives of him being handsome for the sake of simpy teenage girls, this man is rather discreet and serious, if you believe what you’ve heard about him. He made some appearances in sorcerer medias, but not many, as sorcerer medias are already rare. They're mostly internet forums where they exchange tips, knowledge and latest news; missions that were too hard for some, or requests from non-sorcerers who have gone far enough on the deep web to find your community. Overall, these forums are mostly used by westerners, since Asian exorcists don’t need them; however, exorcist news are exorcist news, and you have seen a few big titles attached to Gojo and Ryoumen.
Maybe you should write an article about how you survived attacking this man.
*
“Oh! Maria!” a silvery voice exclaims.
You snort. He’s a hopeless case. You stop to let Gojo Satoru walk up to you in the hallway. It’s 6am, you wonder how he’s up already since no class in the world could start before 8am, not even exorcist ones. At least, you hope so for these teens’ sanity.
Gojo sees the disappointment that your cursed energy is filled with but most of all, even he can recognize a saddened face through the dark fabric of his blindfold. “Is everything okay? How was your mission yesterday?”
You can’t hide that he triggered the right button when your energy gets darker at the memory. Your eyes avoid his perceptiveness as you turn your head to the side and keep walking. The tall man follows suit.
“Bad. Sukuna… I mean, Ryoumen,” you remember they call people by their surname here, “he got rid of the curse before me and he won’t share the pay.”
A light sigh comes to your ears. You glance to discover Satoru’s arms crossed behind his neck as he walks next to you, a small smirk of ease on his glossy lips. “Haaa, of course they’d give the mission to him.”
“Yes, and I can’t threaten them to give me the pay because they’d be more scared of what he could do to them than me,” you confess.
Satoru chuckles, a laugh that reminds you of a small fae. If they do hide amongst humans, Gojo must be one of them.
“Ha, too bad. Did you get another mission yet?”
You snort bitterly, “Nah, they say I have to wait another three days because of ‘the foreigner procedures.’ ”
Even through the blindfold, you can see Gojo’s brows furrow with confusion. He tilts his head. “In mid-July?”
You don’t respond, that was a rhetorical question. Somehow, the temperature lowers all around you, the air entering your lungs is cold, but not as icy as Gojo’s smile. Something dangerous thickens all around you, akin the infinite of space is becoming heavier by the seconds.
Satoru stops behind, “Do you wanna assist me in class today? It’s gonna be fun, the kids really like you.”
You’re surprised by the abrupt change of subject. However, if you have nothing to do, you might as well get yourself busy with exorcism. On top of it all, training his students is also training yourself: they’re really good, and Satoru can even give you tips to improve in the end.
“Okay… I’m in,” you concede.
His smile brightens the air which felt suffocating seconds ago. “Great! I’ll have to check a few things, I’ll see you in two hours!”
It’s a little confusing to see him disappear so fast after going through all these mood swings suddenly, but you’ve heard that S grades are a bit special in their heads too, so you don’t dwell too much to understand everything he does.
Later that day, you’re training with the first years using mainly your water whip since it does the job against Yuuji and Nobara mainly. The teens are already impressed at your technique, which shows they still have a long way to go before reaching the 1st grade of sorcerers.
During breaks, you can’t stop checking your phone as you try to manage your savings for the end of the week. You have to find a way to get money before this Saturday. However, two hours into training, you open your bank app to discover you are saved.
A pay just dropped on your account. Not any pay; the exact amount that was planned for the mission Ryoumen Sukuna stole from you.
You freeze. You check it a few times, opening and closing the app to make sure it’s not a bug, but the money is there.
You’ll be okay.
You check your email box, only to discover a new appointment with Mishiroge first hour this afternoon to give you your next job, as well as the pay slip for your latest mission.
“Oi!”
A voice calls you, you jolt to look up to the students, who are waiting for you. Yuuji is intrigued, “Are you okay?”
You check your surroundings, hoping to catch Gojo’s gaze but under his blindfold, he’s unreadable. He smiles as he always does. “They’re waiting for you, come on,” he tells.
He seems clueless to the situation. You would discuss the matter with him, but you don’t want to start talking about this stuff in front of the students. You simply get back on your feet and prepare to fight.
Lunch break comes soon, and with that Satoru offers you to join for the afternoon lesson too, which you decline since you will finally get a job to do, your job hopefully which they better not give to anyone else this time.
You wander in the hallways on the way to Mishiroge’s office after lunch. You’re excited now. You wonder what changed, maybe they just realized they had attributed the mission to you so you should be the one they paid? You’re almost certain they usually send windows to check the fight scenes after an exorcism, they most probably have seen Sukuna’s cursed energy residues all around the area, but somehow they still decided to pay you. Could it be they have an issue with Sukuna? An issue bigger than a gaijin in their ranks?
Your guts get sucked in a cold dimension, your stomach jumps in your throat when you feel a familiar yet amplified energy bursting in the building. Cold sweat suddenly runs down your forehead, you’d love to swallow your saliva but your mouth is dry as fear hovers over your every move. You’re scared that breathing too loud would get you killed.
Sukuna enters the hallway, crimson eyes boring right into your soul.
“You.”
You want to run. Wobbly legs take you as far as one step behind before you turn around and bump in his chest just like yesterday evening, except this time you do fear for your life. You scream when his fingers wrap around your wrists.
“Let me go!” you panic, but you don’t dare struggle out of his hold. He could kill you in the blink of an eye.
“What did you tell them, huh?” he drags you closer to him. “Do you think you’re entitled to come and steal our missions when your continent can barely handle their own? That’s why you let go yesterday, you’re a sneaky little bitch who fights behind my back, I can’t believe…”
“I didn’t do anything!” you defend yourself. “I didn’t say or send any email, they refused it to me this morning!” the energy around your wrist alone would be enough to break them if he just gave it a little push. You’ve never felt that endangered ever in your life, and yet your whole business is risking said life to get money. However, that is one risk you would’ve never taken.
“Then why did they pay you for this mission?” the man growls, if he can be qualified of a man at this point.
“I don’t know!” you exclaim. “I was asking myself the same question! I even told Gojo this morning that I didn’t think they’d give it to me if you were involved!”
Suddenly, his grip on your wrists loosens. You close your eyes. He’s probably about to attack you, and you don’t want to see your death in the gleam of his ruby eyes.
However, nothing comes. Instead of any hit, a name.
“Gojo?” his deep and hoarse voice whirrs. “You told Gojo?”
You nod, eyelids still squeezed together. But you’re still alive. And no hit is coming.
Carefully, you open one eye to discover the rage has only grown stronger in Sukuna, although it’s not headed towards you this time. He’s glaring at the void behind you, probably killing his mental image of Gojo about a thousand times.
“I should’ve known… of course, this dork always protects the widowed and the orphan.”
“Which one am I exactly…?” you meowl, intimidated.
“You’re gonna be the widowed in just a few minutes when I kill your little boyfriend…” he grumbles as he walks past you.
You know where he’s heading: the training fields. You freak out, although you try to defend Gojo.
“He’s not my boyfriend! He didn’t do anything, he…!”
“Really? And who do you think could negotiate to take a pay away from me? Who else could scare these bitches as much as angering me?”
The coin drops and you feel the dumbest you’ve ever been. Of course, Satoru got involved. He’s the only one that could threaten the higher-ups into doing something that could upset Ryoumen Sukuna. If you found yourself between the two of them, you don’t know which one you would pick. You guess you would just do what you can to survive and tell them to settle their scores on their own, because there’s no way you would take the risk of upsetting the both of them at the same time.
You follow Sukuna in the field, although he’s much faster. He disappears from your sight in a second. An explosion resonates through the whole campus. You run to the training field to find a cloud of dust dissipating in the very center. As you get closer, the cloud is suddenly washed away, as well as you and the students, and the roof of a building, when a wave of pure energy emanates from the center of the court. It wasn’t one, but two distinct energy origins.
Your survival instincts tell you to stand up, to be ready to run anytime. As you get back on your feet, you discover Satoru’s arm blocking Sukuna’s punch. The two tall men – you realize they’re about the same height, and surprisingly, Sukuna is a little taller than the other – are staring back at each other, furious gaze for one and relaxed smile for the other. Satoru, one hand in his pocket, lets his other arm down to question his colleague.
“What brings you here on this lovely afternoon, Ryou-senpai?” he even gives him an affectionate nickname, something Sukuna doesn’t comment on when he responds.
“Why can’t you mind your own business for once, Gojo?”
“You know your life would be miserably boring if I did, though.”
Gojo smirks. Sukuna clenches his jaw. “Why did you give my pay to the gaijin?”
“Aw, do you need money maybe?” the white haired man coos. “You could’ve asked me to lend you some if y…”
Another shockwave of raw cursed energy washes over this campus, one which makes you stumble backwards and your hair blow out of your face. You can feel half of your cursed energy is drained from simply standing next to these guys and staying conscious. You check over the students to discover Nobara is holding onto Megumi’s arm while the boy is exchanging a panicked gaze with Yuuji.
“You know this has nothing to do with money and everything to do with her presence in this school,” Sukuna claims. “She is not welcome h…”
“She is welcome everywhere I am,” Satoru bites back.
Sukuna’s hand wraps around the other’s wrist, although you know for a fact that there is an infinite space separating their skins. Gojo’s energy is the one to burst suddenly, making you take a step back, but he stays very still, very relaxed in appearance. He even smirks amusingly.
“You know racism is a very ugly flaw, senpai?” he asks like he would ask a child.
“You know this is not about this.”
“I know you’re doing this because she’s a foreigner, which makes you as modern and open-minded as Gakuganji.”
This time, you think it’s the end. You can see Sukuna feigns to hit his rival, but the energy he gathers is about ten times stronger than the first punch he attempted. You see your life flashing before your eyes, wondering what will be left of the school if these two titans start throwing hands.
However, it happens so fast, you’re even surprised to be alive. You get washed away along with Megumi and Nobara. For a second, you freak out when you look over to the kids. Where is Yuuji?! Until you hear his voice, between the two nuclear bombs:
“Enough!”
You open your eyes through the wind whirls that finally calm down as everyone discovers Yuuji standing between his teacher and who strikes you to be his brother.
They look alike so much. Although Sukuna is way taller, has sharper traits and almond red eyes, he still shares the same pink hair as Yuuji, the general face shape, and you suppose the body type as Yuuji is already buffer than his comrades for his age. Something in their expressions strikes you, although Yuuji’s big brown eyes are nothing like his brother’s; his nose is small and slightly up-turned, when Sukuna’s is straight like a Greek statue. He’s handsome, you think, or he would be, if it wasn’t for the ugliness of his soul. Yuuji still has the cheeks of youth too, unlike the other, whose face is sculpted with maturity. He must be in his early thirties.
“Mind your own business, Yuu…” Sukuna grumbles, but the young man doesn’t let go.
“No!” he pushes his brother away. The man takes a step back. You wonder if Yuuji is strong enough to make him do that, or if it’s Sukuna complying with the boy’s demand. “Sensei is right, we don’t have any money problems, leave her alone! She wants to work as much as any of us, so let her!”
Gojo’s lips twist in a snarky smile, until Yuuji faces him too. “And you, stop provoking my brother! Please, Sensei, do it for me at least.”
The teacher inhales deeply, bored of the request already, but he sighs with a slight smile. “Alright, I guess I can do that for my lovely student…” he ruffles the boy’s hair. Yuuji relaxes a little as he watches his teacher walk away.
Sukuna’s predator eyes follows the white haired man like a prey, furious. However, the ruby stones leave Gojo when they’re met with you.
You would rather someone throws a bucket of iced water on you very slowly than to face the deadly gaze he’s giving you. Sukuna hates you, it’s obvious.
Little does he know how reciprocal that feeling is.
He gets distracted when his brother hits his chest to get his attention back. You can’t hear what they’re saying, but one last glance from Sukuna, and Yuuji scolds him again, and you’re left alone. Or rather, you can focus on Gojo, who’s coming your way with a quiet to him that feels like a tense predator protecting its cubs; wary of any danger, checking that the cub is safe and sound.
You blush. You’re not one to falter in front of powerful exorcists, you’ve never been. However, it’s different when you almost caused an S grade clash. You nod quite imperceptibly to reassure Gojo that you’re okay. The man ruffles your hair as he walks past you, but doesn’t dwell on it. He acts indifferent, although his energy tells you he’s not.
He’s still on the defense. He’s ready to block any sudden hit from Sukuna.
“Alright kids!” he claps happily, “Back to training!”
You shiver.
You can sense both men are still silently fighting, auras sucking all the oxygen from the atmosphere.
“Don’t you have an appointment with the old man?” Satoru wakes you up from your contemplation. You jump on the occasion after one last glance at Sukuna.
He’s still shooting lightning at you with his eyes.
“Yes… yes, you’re right.”
You take the opportunity to get away from a potential shock of titans.