Chapter Text
- One Year Later -
“If throwing away our humanity gives us a shot at winning we should throw it away! Does becoming a monster scare you that badly?”
It has been a year since the Battle of the strongest. Despite everyone’s great efforts, the Jujutsu world was still in the midst of rebuilding everything that was destroyed, with the death of Gojo Satoru, the world once again shifted its axis, only this time, the seeds that were carefully protected and nurtured by him, held it up.
Yuta Okkotsu had become a work-a-holic, no time for friends, no time for himself, no time for anyone, if he wasn’t killing curses then he was doing paper work, If not that then he was being a diplomat, and if he wasn’t doing that then he was reinstating and rebuilding the now displaced Gojo clan, there were even talks of him becoming the new clan head despite being only a distant cousin to Gojo Satoru. Nevertheless, he was fulfilling his role as now the strongest, a title he does not agree with, yet despite his best efforts the world still feels like one touch, one bad word, one battle away from crumbling and descending into chaos.
The weight of the world, on an 18 year old’s shoulders, is this how it was for you, Gojo Sensei? I wish you were here, I wish you were alive to see this, to see what we could become, your students are holding up the world you left behind, and despite our best efforts sometimes it still shows its cracks. How were you able to do this alone for so long? How were you so strong?
Even in his sorrows, he can’t help but feel he is doing a disservice to his deceased mentor and setting a bad example to the clan, his friends, comrades, and even to the most important person in his life.
But the last time they saw each other was 6 months ago when they were fighting a special grade curse during a joint mission, stolen glances and restless fingers, he couldn’t help but trace the scars on her face with his eyes, imagining himself caressing her burn marks. She is the apple of his eye, she is walking art, and though he planned on talking to her some more after, to no avail. Their last proper interaction was almost a year ago, when she scolded him in front of everyone, he can’t help but feel bad again about how things had ended, if only he was strong enough then none of this would have happened, she wouldn’t have had disappointed Maki, and Gojo sensei might still be alive.
Wallowing in self pity won’t make things better you idiot. “Is what he probably would say to me right about now.” he says to himself followed by a slight chuckle.
Time passes, as he finishes up with the paper work his eyes drift off into the Tokyo skyline from the 30th floor, the building is owned by the Gojo clan, one of the perks of being Yuta Okkotsu.
None of this would be here if not for Gojo sensei’s efforts, he thinks, gratitude in memory.
He stills once more, his mind wandering, revisiting places from his past, memories with his mentor, his friends back in jujutsu tech, the conversations he had abroad with the locals, the diverse wildlife, the shade of the trees, the bright yellowish green of the grass, not quite his favorite kind of shade, and then he recalls the kindness every person in his life had gifted him, thinking if he could repay it all back a thousand times wouldn’t be enough, that if they weren’t there when they had to be, he wouldn’t be who he was today, or perhaps not here at all.
In the silence of the evening he remembers a voice, an angry voice that strikes him, a voice that leaves him tired, a voice that says he can do better, that he can get stronger, a voice that makes his heart race, a voice that lingers in the corners of his mind, a voice he could listen to everyday, for the rest of his life.
I miss you so much. He can’t help himself, he hasn’t heard her voice in almost a year, things could be more amicable, but it's as if Maki Zenin had disappeared from the face of the planet, like a ghost, even for someone like Yuta Okkotsu who is virtually the most influential and powerful person in the Jujutsu world right now, he couldn’t find her even if he tried, and has he tried.
How do you even go about tracking someone who has absolutely no cursed energy? Not only that but said person can basically move faster than the speed of sound, no fingerprints, no names on any recent documents, no credit cards, no recent purchases under her name, no passport tickets, of course no one with a similar name has popped up in this country after she wiped out the clan. Unfortunately If she doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be, we’re talking about someone who ambushed Sukuna after all.
With that, he resigns himself to the aching bones in his body, the only thing he craves more than Maki’s scarred complexion is the big and soft bed in the next room.
In dreams he finds his fingers stroking strands of deep green, caressing burn marks on taut delicate skin, his gaze wanders to eyes that meet him in all his sorrow and joy and in this act his lips are no longer his, for he is all but hers, and hers alone.
He knows this dream, he’s dreamt it before, in a different setting, a different time with different stars in the sky, different timelines, and different scenarios, and yet the one constant, the one irreplaceable character in all the stories his mind can conjure and concoct, is the girl with green hair he fell for in his darkest moment.
As hard as he tries to lie, to himself, that the affections he carries are nothing more than the sentiments and frivolous whims of a teenager, that what he feels is admiration and not the power he once held, power that was special, power that cursed him long ago. Unfortunately, he is mistaken, his soul bends to the shape of this malady the way it once did only this time the magic is permanent, and his heart unbeknownst to him would sputter and beat uncontrollably in the same manner as her laughter.
Yuta Okkotsu had been afflicted by the most twisted curse of all.
- DECEMBER 1 -
In the early mornings of December, Yuta Okkotsu has grown accustomed to a monotonous and almost religious kind of pattern, of training, and rebuilding, though he is bored beyond his mind, he will never excuse his responsibilities, after all he is not just eighteen years old. He is the strongest, and despite his wants and desires, the world comes first.
The final month has arrived, though the effects of winter have long settled on his skin he cannot help but crave the warmth of summer, as if to mimic a sunflower, Yuta Okkotsu on his daily jog subconsciously runs towards the direction of the sun. Due to time spent indoors overseeing inter-clan relationships as well as working together with the now Head of the New Zen’in clan, Megumi, one of the few people left named Zen’in, Yuta has more or less not seen the early morning sun in quite some time.
He understands that free time, regardless of how much, is a luxury that must be taken advantage of, especially for people like him, important people, though he would never admit that.
With every step he quickens his pace, his jog charging up into a sprint, he could go much faster yet faster won’t allow him to bathe in the warmth of the sun any longer than anyone else, the clouds as if to respond to his earnest desire slowly drift away, fully revealing the ball of fire in all its glory, and Yuta can’t help but feel thankful.
Despite snow and hail, winter and blizzard, tragedy and victory, his mind slows down and his body relaxes, under the warmth he is only his name, and nothing else. Each step gradually slows down to the pace of a jog, returning to the way he started, only now deep breathes are accompanied by closed eyes, without fear he continues running without opening a single eye lid, taking it all in, the cold december air invites an icy cool into his lungs and before he opens his eyes, the darkness in his vision stutters, as if a flashlight was being flickered on his face, slowly he opens his eyes, his field view populated by beautiful shades of green.
The trees allow only a rare amount of light to shine through each branch and leaf acting as shades from the warmth he craves, with every step there is alternating warmth and nothing. And in this moment, he stops and gathers himself, surrounded by his favorite color.
Minutes pass and Yuta Okkotsu just stands directly below an exposed patch of dirt without any trees overseeing it, here he stands for almost an hour, breathing, and feeling, he will never take for granted the warmth of the sun, especially in winter, for it is never promised, from heat, life springs forth, from fire, a warm meal, from warmth, love, in this moment, he knows what he must do, he is thankful, but this is not the warmth he truly seeks, nevertheless, it is here.
Apricity, a constant reminder of her.
Later that evening he visits the once destroyed Zen’in clan headquarters now rebuilt after Maki’s massacre of the clan he can’t help but chuckle at the sight of the renovated structures that were once destroyed and more or less annihilated by her battle here, Note to self, don’t ever make her mad the next time you see her, or ever for that matter. Briefly he recalls the moment he offered to save Naoya, offering to heal him, despite his restraint he can’t but let a bit of malice seep out from him Maki had I known what he did to you and your sister growing up, how much cruelty and hatred he inflicted on to you.
“I would have killed him.” as if to affirm the anger brewing in his heart. He says to himself his mouth moving before he could think.
“Kill who, senpai?” Megumi asks as he moves towards him slowly and carefully, a hint of concern painting his face.
Immediately snapping him out of his thoughts, he smiles and rubs his head apologetically.
“Oh hello Megumi, I’m sorry you had to hear that! How are things moving with the Gojo clan?” he asks to obviously deflect.
“Not as well as I’d hoped but they’re moving nonetheless.” he says, a whole day's work reflecting on his demeanor.
“That so? Well.. any news on..” Yuta asks, his voice monotone as if to hide the weight of emotion even his cursed energy could never amount to.
“None yet senpai, I’m sorry.” Megumi interjects casually.
“I understand, well it’s been great seeing you, I guess I’ll see you again sometime this week Mister clan head?” he says jokingly to lighten the mood.
“Senpai please, you don’t need to say that!” he says as a memory of Gojo’s teasing slowly skips by his thoughts.
“Hahaha alright see you!” he says before departing.
On the way home Yuta Okkotsu’s brain functions on auto pilot, unlike Gojo Satoru who had his personal entourage he has long chosen and preferred taking the public transportation, perhaps due to humility or a reminder that under normal circumstance; in a different world he is still an 18 year old high school student. The train rides remind him of a time when he, Maki, Panda and Inumaki were all but normal students to a certain extent, no threats, no calamities, no culling games, no king of curses, no dead mentors. But he knows better than anyone that there is no changing the past, moving forward is the only option he has.
An hour passes as he arrives back home, he thinks to himself how much of a hassle it is that his living quarters are at the highest floor, though the view is nothing short of amazing he cannot help but complain, Wouldn’t it be easier if I just leapt all the way up there? Hahah, nahhh. A gentle smirk forms on his lips as he makes his way up.
“I’m home! Heheh, as if.” He says to himself fully knowing that he lives alone, he always does this, perhaps to brighten another lonesome night.
Taking off his shoes he makes his way down the hallway onto the balcony to take in the view of the setting December sun, something he routinely does, as he draws the blinds slowly, he notices a figure with its back facing towards him, a woman leaning on the edge of the rail, her hair his favorite shade of green, there is no time to take this all in, he cannot even say a single word before she notices and turns to him. His face cannot even catch up.
“Welcome home, Yuta, can we talk?”