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This was all that he had ever wanted.
Gojo cocked his head and strolled outside, taking a figurative glance at all of the meaningless decorum that surrounded his family’s estate. He was the head of the family, so if he so desired, he could probably burn it all to the ground. But he didn’t come to these meetings enough to truly care about needless displays of wealth.
He methodically checked his surroundings as he fully left the grounds – a habit he’d formed ever since that day. Behind the trees, under that loosened tile, in the air. The Six Eyes let him sense it all, and he was decidedly alone. Alone, about to go to his electric car to drive back to his home where he’d distract himself with trivialities until he inevitably fell asleep. And then the cycle would repeat. Work. Distract. Sleep. Work. Distract. Sleep.
It was the best life a jujutsu sorcerer could ask for. Honestly, Gojo hadn’t ever expected to live past thirty. Even knowing that he was – and still is – the strongest, he’d assumed he would eventually get his ass handed to him. That was how the world worked; you get egotistical in your abilities before being subsequently beaten into the ground.
And yet.
Here he was: pulling out his smartphone to unlock the car door, sliding inside as the seat automatically adjusted to his long stature, and listening to the automated voice asking where his destination was. Gojo didn’t respond right away, choosing instead to clasp his hands in his lap and cross his ankles.
“Recline.”
Immediately, the leather seat began its slow descent. Within a few seconds, Gojo let out a long exhalation as he was laying flat on his back. Even now, his legs were a bit too long to be completely comfortable (he really shouldn’t have bought a car manufactured in Japan). But that was fine. He wasn’t going to be here for long, anyways.
The AI in his car continued to wait for his next command as he rested, listening for any code words. It was strange to think about – there was barely any privacy left in one’s daily life. Gojo whistled a happy tune and watched as the AI interface lit up, wondering what type of data he was sending to the company. Would they take it as a sign that he was a satisfied customer? Was his every breath being automatically sold to the highest-paying corporation, where they’d analyze millions and billions of instances to finetune their advertising? Or was the company’s phony statement on their website somehow accurate, that customers’ privacy was their number-one concern?
“Needs more leg room,” Gojo said aloud. Maybe he’d get lucky and someone sifting through sound files would hear his complaint. But more likely than not, it was already rendered inconsequential by some other AI and sent to the trash folder.
It was quiet as he laid there. The air was on, barely making a sound as it circled through the car’s interior. But it was the perfect time to think. The meeting had gone well and Gojo was more than certain that once he passed, the next family head would be just as competent as he was. And, more importantly, they’d be aligned with his goals. No more pain in the name of tradition, no more corruption in the name of profits, and no more lies in the name of truth.
Educating the youth and building them up had been much of his life’s goal, and he had succeeded. All the way from Tokyo Jujutsu High to the upper echelons of the government, Gojo had influenced many people over the decades to root out evil and sacrifice for the sake of the many. It had been a slow change, and there was still pushback to this day from his most vocal opponents. But if you compared this to where he’d been in his mid-twenties, there was no doubt: he had won.
He hardly had to kill any curses or curse users these days due to the strength of those he’d helped nurture. They were powerful, and not only were they competent in combat, but quite a few had followed in his footsteps of dealing in global politics.
Action was always the preferred method with curses, but unfortunately, the reality of the non-jujutsu world was that real change needed to be closely monitored through all steps of the legal process. Even now, the most wealthy few attempted to thwart all the progress the majority of citizens had voted and wished for. But with the internet and constant awareness thrown at issues, it was harder for those in power to completely keep things under wraps.
It had all come together far better than he’d ever imagined.
And yet.
And yet…
It all felt so meaningless in the wake of everything else. Gojo stared at the black fabric of his blindfold, seeing far more than he needed to. But that’s how it had always been, hadn’t it? He’d always seen and known too much. His cursed techniques had rendered him the strongest, and he’d dealt with that responsibility accordingly. But it hadn’t been enough.
Yesterday, a national law that provided accessible fresh water to those under the poverty level was repealed.
Last week, the twelfth hurricane of the year wrecked much of the United State’s east coast.
Last month, another civil war in India began as deaths due to the unprecedented summer heat rose to fifty-thousand.
Last year, the world population was higher than it was today.
Five years ago, Costa Rica was deemed uninhabitable for humans due to the high temperatures combined with humidity.
Ten years ago, the largest deepwater fishing company in Japan had completely shut down due to the lack of edible sea life.
Fifteen years ago, the last known redwood tree in the world was cut down for a billionaire’s vacation home.
Twenty years ago, the Doomsday vault in the Arctic was rendered a failure due to the permafrost around it melting.
Twenty-five years ago, masks became mandatory in most metropolises worldwide to protect citizens from the polluted air.
Thirty years ago, the third pandemic since COVID-19 proved to be more deadly than the rest combined. An estimated 2% of the entire world population died, most from third-world countries.
Thirty-five years ago, most of Southern Europe and Northern Africa was declared to be in severe drought. The declaration was never rescinded.
Forty years ago, all of the sea ice had completely melted.
And fifty years ago, scientists had given a ten-year warning.
Maybe he could’ve done more. Gojo had grown up educated and had been well-aware of climate change since he was young, but he’d also known that nothing could be done until the systems controlling most of the world’s resources were changed. However, now that they’d been successfully changed, it was far too late.
Was it always fated to end this way? Was it true that only a few hundred people out of the billions on the planet had the ability to make actual change? Was humanity always going to become extinct a few hundred years after discovering fossil fuels? There had been some technological advancements in the past 40 years to curb climate change, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Since the late 1800s, this was the path humans had decided to follow – the major consequences just weren’t being felt until now.
“Shuffle.”
The screen, ever-listening, lit up and immediately began to rotate through Gojo’s playlists. He supposed that was one good thing about the world coming to an end: it spurred many new talented musicians to say their piece. It seemed that was the only topic on the radio these days, but with the reminders of how times had changed constantly surrounding everyone, it wasn’t that surprising.
It was a little too loud – the harsh drums and screaming vocals making it feel like his head was vibrating – but Gojo didn’t ask the device to turn it down. No, this was better. Much better. One hour. Then two, and then a third. Gojo hardly moved as he stared into nothing, letting the angry music play unimpeded.
He considered Geto not for the first time, and certainly not the last. It would be so easy to follow in his footsteps. Just destroy the majority of humanity, and let the rest of nature take over to fix what they’d caused. He’d start with the leaders of the first-world countries, letting them fall into chaos for only a moment before taking out their militaries. Once they were gone, he’d continue continent by continent. Country by country. City by city. Village by village. He wouldn’t stop until they were gone.
And he could do it.
His fingers twitched, and Gojo felt the cursed energy inside of him rise up. Was today the day? Maybe his former students would try to stop him once they realized what he was doing. They’d put up a good fight, but if he didn’t have to worry about holding back for citizens’ sakes, he would definitely win. It would be so easy. So easy...
“Home.”
Immediately, the car began its smooth drive back to his apartment. Gojo only jostled in place for a moment before the vehicle found a steady pace, driving down the mountain path with more control than a human ever could. The music continued to play. Loud and angry, grating and raw – a complete juxtaposition to the luxurious technology that only slightly distracted from reality.
No. Today wasn’t the day; maybe tomorrow he’d do it. He’d give humanity one more day to redeem itself – this was the mantra he’d been repeating every day for the past three decades. And one day, he would definitely follow through. It was his responsibility as the strongest to protect the interests of the world.
But that was a problem for the future. For now, he’d close his eyes and repeat the daily cycle just like everyone else around him. Work. Distract. Sleep. Work. Distract. Sleep.
After all, wasn’t this all he had ever wanted?