Chapter Text
Satoru’s text pinged on her phone and she was tempted to leave him on Read before she skimmed what he wrote and couldn’t let him have the last word.
Satoru: If anything goes badly, you know who to call >.<
Yui: Won’t need it.
Tsking, she tucked her phone back into her back pocket and steeled her nerves. As much as she wanted to seem nonchalant, she couldn’t help how taking the path she’d walked a thousand times as a kid made her skin ripple with goosebumps. Not only that, but it was her first time showing back up in jujutsu society after years of being gone. After this, there would be no going back to the normal life of a university student.
Not that that was really an option anymore anyway, now that she knew about Megumi Fushiguro.
Gritting her teeth and cursing Toji’s name in her head, she continued down towards the looming Zen’in estate. She knew she had little to fear—even with how unconventional she was and how unpopular she had been in this family, there was no overlooking her undeniable status as a Special Grade. The only Special Grade the Zen’ins had seen born of their blood in decades, and that at least held some weight with them.
Even if Naobito or even Naoya wanted to wring her neck (not that they could, but still), they wouldn’t, because they would gain nothing from killing their sole Special Grade.
It was a little irritating, though, that she’d have no choice but to make herself known at the front gates to the Hei warriors on guard. She lacked Satoru’s teleportation abilities, and briefly lamented at that fact before forcing herself up to the gates.
There was no recognition in the faces of the soldiers on guard, but there was little to be read from their expressions, anyway, with how good they were at remaining emotionless.
“Zen’in Yui,” she told them smoothly, “I am requesting an audience with the Clan Head.”
The Hei warriors said nothing, but nevertheless, the gate began to open behind them. She had no doubt that Naobito had been notified the moment she had made herself visible to the guards. She knew how things worked around here.
Clenching her fist, she slipped past the gates into the estate.
***
To be frank, Yui would never have imagined herself sitting opposite Naobito Zen’in, with Jinichi, Ogi and Naoya gathered around the table.
It was rather boring, to be honest, sitting in silence with all these elders. As much as they attempted to appear at ease, Yui’s deliberately unhinged cursed energy made them on edge, and she enjoyed how tense they were.
Once she was satisfied with the level of tension in the room, she broke the ice, “Fushiguro Megumi is mine.” Even as the words left her tongue, despite the hundreds of times she’d practiced in her head, she fought the wince at how horrible they sounded, steeling her own expression to maintain the image of a perfectly cruel and power-hungry sorcerer. She was not here to ask for permission, and she would not let the elders think they had the choice of saying no to her.
“You have met the boy, then.” Naobito noted tersely, “I should have known Gojo Satoru would have enlisted you to come.”
Naoya sneered, “You have always been Gojo’s lapdog, haven’t you?”
Yui said nothing, only cast Naoya a demeaning glare, as if he was one to talk about being a lapdog. Comments such as those did not hurt Yui anymore, not the way they would have riled her up when she was in school. It was one of the things Naoya loved to say to rile her up when they were younger. Now, though...there was no question about it. Yui had nothing to be worried about in terms of her power in comparison to Naoya’s.
“If there are no objections,” Yui continued, “I will consider the deal to be done.”
“He has been sold to us,” Naobito said, dismissing her, “He will return to his family soon enough.”
“That is precisely the problem, Clan Head,” Yui clenched her fists under the table, “I do not honour such a deal.” Of course, she had known that they would say such things. There was no way that the Zen’ins would relinquish such an asset as the Ten Shadows to the Gojo clan. But perhaps...
“After my father’s death,” Yui said before anyone could interject, “The position of the Head of my branch family has been left empty, has it not? And as such, as his sole descendant, the position rightfully falls to me.”
Ogi cut in sharply, “That is—,”
“And as such,” She cut him off, leashing him with an invisible noose of cursed energy, nullifying the angry power that began bubbling at his fingertips, “As one of the Zen’in clan elders, I do not acknowledge the purchase of Fushiguro Megumi. And,” she tightened the leash around Ogi’s neck, making the veins of his throat strain against the pressure, “As Fushiguro Toji’s direct relative, Fushiguro Megumi’s custody by default falls to me.”
It was as good a deal as Yui could have come up with. As a Zen’in herself, there was no way that she would be able to completely separate Megumi from any involvement with the clan, if Satoru wanted her to negotiate. She was, by blood, one of the clan’s last remaining practicing sorcerers, and taking on custody of Megumi meant he would undoubtedly become somewhat involved in their clan politics.
“You cannot assume your father’s role with no clan training,” Jinichi sneered, “The Zen’in do not acknowledge—,”
Yui had no trouble reaching out a second invisible lasso, an easy smirk on her lips, “You will.” She leaned forward, “You will acknowledge me.” The air, electrified with her cursed energy, tensed. It was a strange feeling, she was certain, feeling her undampened cursed energy lingering in a room that had been absent of power like hers for so long. She did not want to resort to violence—it would not help her case, as tempting as it was, the air sizzling with her power.
The elders said nothing—two of them could not move, let alone say anything. It had been years since they had seen Yui, and she was eager to show them just how much she had learned in her time away from this stifling clan compound.
Finally deciding she had made her point, she released Ogi and Jinichi, leaning back in her seat, “I stand by my demands. Fushiguro Megumi is mine.”
***
Even as Satoru laughed, Yui’s glare remained icy cold.
“Not funny, Satoru,” Yui snapped.
“You really became a clan elder,” Satoru raised his eyebrows disbelievingly, “All for little Megumi-kun? I can’t imagine a person less suited to clan politics than you, Yui-chan.”
Yui rolled her eyes, “You are fucking clan head, Satoru.”
“And what about it?”
“It’s not a big deal,” she tried not to mope, “I won’t even have to do that much. Just show up sometimes. Occasionally scare Naobito into line. That’s all.”
Satoru grinned, “I’m proud of you. I can teach you all you’ll need to know!” He slung an arm around her shoulders much in the same way as he used to do when they were both teenagers, “Megumi will be so excited.”
At the thought of the little boy, Yui couldn’t help her relieved smile, even in her sour mood about her predicament. It was all for him.
Little did she know, she was very much not ready for clan politics.