Chapter Text
As a child of the Gojo clan he reigned supreme among commoners just for his riches and title alone.
As a bearer of the six eyes and the limitless technique he was a God among all mortal men. No one would ever really surmount to his level or more so surpass him.
And yet as a human, he burned, he bled, and cried in pain.
Gojo was slowly starting to understand why Lucifer had fallen from grace. Why Achilles was instantly felled by an arrow to a heel. They could’ve continued fighting. They could've picked themselves back up and refuse to go down without one last fuck you to fate. But they didn't. And he knew why.
Spiraling into destruction just came so easily to someone. Because hate was faster to consume than cling on to fanciful bullshit like hope and love.
And that is when Gojo decided late at night 6 months since his best friend had gone rogue that he was going to follow in his tracks.
The call of destruction wasn't the only thing that he heard. The void was after all so rampant as well when one is lonely.
----
March, 2010
Gojo’s final year in Tokyo Metropolitan Technical High School
The weather was fucking hunky dory as if these assholes weren't always one step close from getting annihilated by all of curse kind if it wasn't for his powers. Fuck. Geto was right, why look out for such defenseless wimps. It wasn’t their fault that they were born puny and powerless.
It was just the natural order of things. Mortals were weak and sorcerers were not. Simple as that. Why save them from the manifestations of death and grief when they themselves are the only ones causing it? Fucking monkeys.
Gojo slid his head from idly gazing out the window of the traditionally interiorized homeroom. On his right was Shoko’s seat empty once again from her absence that had grown frequent since Geto's insubordination.
She took Geto's betrayal to Jujutsu society the worst. He was unsure if it was because he was now acting in ways that were against their system's governance, or because the guy she had felt something deeply for-heck, it was probably even love- had gone and pursued the life of a criminal, now second to Jujutsu society's public enemy no. 1; Ryomen Sukuna. Either way Shoko wasn't handling it well and had gone elusive as well but for reasons that weren't of a heinous nature.
"Satoru." Grumbled his sensei from up front.
Sighing deeply in boredom he lowered his glasses to reveal his baby blues up at him, letting it be known to his sensei that he had finally managed to make him 10x more indifferent on what he was about to say.
"Hai sensei?" He drawled emphasizing on the honorific earning him an enraged flare of the nostrils from his teacher which had him straightening up on his seat from force of habit.
Kami. Gojo easily upstaged him in curse energy levels and technique, and yet the burly bear of a man still had Gojo almost shitting his pants when he flared his nose like an enraged bull facing against a fearless matador. Though he was a rather piss poor imitation of one cowering under the bespectacled gaze of Yaga-sensei.
"I have a mission for you and I would like to know if you're up for the task." Yaga gruffly but carefully worded out to his young protegee who gave him a 'you kidding me' type of look.
Gojo heaved out a hoarse chuckle. " Old man in case you've forgotten. Youve got yourself here the jujutsu world's godsend. I am more than equipped for this task that I'm sure just takes a bat of my eyelash for me to "poof" those measly curses away."
That sorry attempt of Gojo convincing his teacher had been done poorly and his sensei merely continued to stare down at him from behind his desk at least a yard's distance away from him in deadpan.
Gojo's flamboyance and air of peacockery had shriveled up and died, and he simply leaned over his desk arms crossed over the table top, staring back at his teacher with equal levels of seriousness.
Physically he was well-equipped Yaga knew that more than anyone. Heck he was the one in charge of mentoring the pip squeak on how to control his immeasurable cursed energy, how to harness the energy for various techniques and combinations, and most of all how to use it for good.
But for the last part, he was quite unsure. Geto was the only one Gojo saw as an equal. The two might’ve had their varying opinions back when Geto hadn't gone rogue. To be frank, he was the most surprised out of them. Geto was an altruist and a good kid. His initial philosophy of helping those who are weaker than him had landed him on Yaga's less stricter disposition. Yet here he was now, with only the most disrespectful left of his three-correction; 2—senior students that had once enlivened this barren classroom, and he was horrified at the thought that he, the 'saving grace of the jujutsu world' would turn into 'the reckoning end of the jujutsu world'.
It is adamant that he makes sure Gojo doesn't go down that path. And he's ran out of ideas of how to do that not when the 3rd of his trio of students was also currently M.I.A as well bedridden with grief.
He was left with no choice but shove him to a person Yaga was certain would straighten Gojo's behavior and help him understand his responsibility to jujutsu society and as well as the world.
It was high time he contacted Tokyo tech's alumni, a poster child of jujutsu society's traditional principles. Iori Utahime.
-----
The following day…
"LET ME AT HIM YAGA-SENSEI! I'M GOING TO STRANGLE HIS SCRAWNY NECK. EQUILIBRIUM BE DAMNED HE'S GOING TO GET IT!"
"UTAHIME CALM YOURSELF!"
"LET ME SEE YOU TRY BAA-CHAN~ BET YOU CAN'T EVEN GET A FOOT ON ME. WHICH YOU CANT!"
Another snarl escaped the pigtailed girl that Yaga was reigning back by the waist with an arm.
"SATORU QUIT PROVOKING HER. SHE HAS A RIGHT TO CHASTISE YOU FOR BEING A BRAT. SHOW SOME RESPECT!"
It was chaos inside the teacher now turned principal's office. Gojo liked the big guy more as a sensei than a stick in the mud principal. Plus, his new position did not lessen the guy's workload and stress. Heck, he even turned to needlework as a means to cope. Needlework!
How is the guy ever going to get shacked up at this rate?
Honestly, the higher ups could’ve chosen someone else for the job. But what was new? They were sticklers to outdated customs and rules. They wanted some disposable puppy pawn to work for their regime.
"Iori-san. Control yourself. I will release you on the count of 5."
The girl didn't even need a counting down to, as if reminded of who she was and what her purpose was for visiting her alma mater that day, she grew self-aware of her taciturn actions. Utahime deflated in Yaga's arm and stepped back from her former teacher, coughing demurely onto a fist and dusted her skirts off from what little dust that had clung to her fabric. With a bow she addressed Yaga-sensei. "I apologize for my behavior. My anger and distaste for the man-child had gotten the better of me. I'll be more self-aware in the near future and ignore the thrum of bloodlust at the presence of Gojo."
Gojo rolled his eyes away from the goody two shoes sempai of his. Kami, what a kiss ass.
Yaga-sensei nodded in acknowledgement at his former student. "Your apology is accepted. At ease Utahime. We have important matters to discuss." He said, stretching a hand out, motioning her to step inside.
Utahime walked through the shoji doors and surveyed the area looking for a seat of her own, but scowled when she figured that it was either the coffee table, standing up, or sitting in the same chair as the brat. There would be some distance though, but being in the same room as that insipid kouhai of hers was enough to have her frisk up like a hostile kitten in defense.
Screw it. She wasn’t going to spend a debriefing standing up because Gojo had asserted his bratty entitlement and general trash attitude to have her tap out. She was an adult for Kami's sake. 3 years her senior. She was the bigger person here. Well not height wise that is.
Gojo blew off a series of gagging noises when Utahime lowered herself down from the other end of the sofa, and the girl merely rolled her eyes, exasperated at Gojo's antics.
Yaga-sensei stalked towards the sofa opposite of where Gojo and Utahime lounged. Sighing at the pair's horrible interaction and chemistry, that was as volatile as a nuclearized warhead.
He was starting to think maybe he could’ve asked the other 2 former upperclassmen of Gojo. But Kusakabe was too existentially done with everything much like his freshman student-former freshman student- Kento Nanami who has abandoned all ye hope in life and nihilistically passes through it for mere survival. Mei was competent, but she would demand monetary compensation. They would have the money for it but the elders don’t see how paying someone to do what was initially his job to monitor and influence Gojo's behavior towards being a responsible jujutsu sorcerer. So far there was no breakthrough aside from the development in his limitless and infinity. The young man had now succeeded in leaving the thing on autopilot.
As for his character development. He had nothing. He was still a no-nonsense condescending kid. Which Yaga knew was just a farce. Satoru might not verbalize it nor break from his image of perpetual cheekiness, but he was still a kid. And although he was going to sound like that old hermit Gakuganji, he worried about the fickleness of the youth. Everything they go through in his age, emotions, experiences, trauma, was going to shape his ideals and principles. And after everything that Satoru had gone through, Yaga suspected that Gojo was close to losing it. The fight in him burning out into nothing. No, not even nothing. He feared that Satoru's flame would burn to cause harm.
Yaga cleared his throat snatching the attention of his 2 students -former and current- from their little game of "blink and you lose" and had been heatedly glaring at each other for the past 5 minutes while he weighed out their compatibility.
"Sorry sensei." Utahime voiced in sincerity.
Gojo pointed a finger at his upperclassman beside him. "She was the one who initiated it old man."
"I did not!"
"Urusai!" Bellowed Yaga silencing the two effectively. "The next person who interrupts me is getting thrown out the window."
"H-hai." The two answered back stricken.
Not that Yaga would throw Utahime out. The girl was an angel. Satoru on the other hand... Tempting, but what would that say about him as an adult?
"I have summoned you here in my office to inform that the two of you will be pairing up for this mission."
One blue eyed pair and a brown eyed one blinked at him in sync.
Yaga crossed his arms over his chest and steeled himself from the havoc that was about to rain on him.
"HOLD UP IM NOT PARTNERING UP WITH PRINCESS PIGTAIL HERE!"
"Sensei, I'm saying this with utmost respect. I can NOT work with this freak. It will be the end of Jujutsu society. I will murder him." Utahime argued to her teacher.
"Murder me?" Gojo echoed in disbelief. "Excuse you Bakahime. As if you can get within an inch of me. Come on. Let me see you try." Beckoned Gojo over arms spread out on both sides.
"Oh you little--"
There was another resounding clear of the throat from Yaga-sensei but this time it was accompanied by the sound of his knuckles cracking threateningly while he stared at the two in seething rage.
Utahime and Gojo returned to their seats, muttering another set of apologies under their breath.
"As I was saying," Yaga stressed and shot pointed looks at the two who shrunk deeper into the leather seat of his office. "You will both be taking part in a huge scale exorcism in Kyoto. The headquarters have noticed reoccurring reports of curse activity that have gone rampant amongst tourist spots, especially historical landmarks. A lot of cursed spirits have flocked to these sites as of recently especially with the rise of urbanization in nearby cities. Kyoto is one of the provinces in Japan that still strongly clings to superstition which thus feeds the spirits mortality. More belief of these monsters means more of them would truly manifest and wreak havoc among non-sorcerers."
Utahime attentively and eagerly nodded at her former sensei.
From beside her Gojo drawled. " So, you want us to make them stop believing in these monsters?"
"No, Satoru. We want you to do what you’ve always done best. Exorcise the curses." Yaga firmly replied.
His next words had caught both Utahime and Yaga off guard. " Why not just let them see the curses? Why not let them witness themselves the danger they are constantly turning a blind eye from because they’re blissfully ignorant of it?"
Yaga opened his mouth... only to close it again. He had an answer ready. A scripted one at that. One that is known to all sorcerers. But one that Yaga feared would trigger something in Gojo.
"Because we are here to pro--"
"Because we live different lives from them Gojo." Utahime intervened, and momentarily flashing her sensei a look that says 'let me handle this'.
"Yeah, but what about it? What's the harm if they see something even more different?" Questioned Gojo, the pitch black of his glasses making it difficult for Utahime to read him.
"Okay, maybe it’d do them good to know that demons are real and they can be seen. Or that they should be aware of what we go through on the daily to protect them. But imagine if you were a non-sorcerer and you one day woke up to the sight of demons. A world you weren’t accustomed to--"
"It’s not like it’s any different from having been born to the jujutsu world since you were a child---"
"That's because we didn’t have a choice! But they do Gojo. They lived in a world where hope and despair were merely an emotion and not some grotesque embodiment of when you generated so much of the latter. Why would we steal them the privilege of living in a world of hope and isn’t haunted by curses?"
"Stop it with your holier than thou bullcrap Utahi--"
"I'm not being self-righteous here Gojo. I'm merely stating that the only reason we are doing this is because we have no choice and this is the world we were brought into. The higher ups had long since established that this is the way the jujutsu society is to be led not because we're simply acting on righteousness by saving the non-sorcerers. But because we were born a sorcerer, and our way of life had always been being brave enough to face curses."
Yaga felt pride swell in his heart at the fiery resolve that radiated out of Utahime. She wasn't as flashy a student. With her technique and her identity as a whole. She wasn't doing things to prove something to people although for some reason he was inexplicably riled up at Gojo's jabs at her. She was just doing things because she knew where she stood in the Jujutsu society and she got things done. She might be everything Gojo disapproves of when it comes to their world, a poster child of traditionalism. But Utahime was no narrow minded elder. She knew how to reform by being a part of the system.
His gaze swept towards Gojo who for some odd reason was rendered silent. It was deep and foreboding, as if he was contemplating in thought. His glasses painting him in an indiscernible mirage that Yaga found difficult to see through.
But his lanky frame soon moved in nonchalant shrug, and said with a blasé tone, "Whatever. Let’s just go to Kyoto. You’re such a nagger Hime."
"Ehhhh!?!" Shrieked Utahime appalled.
There was a cackle from Gojo and the six eyes and limitless bearer suddenly disappeared in a blink of eye causing Utahime to twist her head around here and there looking for Gojo. The aforementioned teen later on materialized from behind bellowing a loud 'Boo!". His upperclassman jolted up her seat, pigtails flying up from the shock.
The two now engaged in another game this one of cat and mouse, and Yaga watched the two run out of his office, and he was left there thinking. Thinking...
That maybe this dynamic could work.
-----
Kyoto, 2010
6 months after Suguru Geto turned and a week after the chaos that was Iori Utahime and Gojo Satoru's mission debriefing
Utahime loved her hometown.
The fresh weather. The nature. The nostalgia that bedecked every house, every building, and even the crisp late winter air seemed to carry the scent of the past. Yes, it was obvious that she had quite a huge appreciation for their history, and she was brought up in strict traditions. Who can blame her? She erred from a long line of noble shrine priestesses that contributed greatly during the Heian period when curses ran free around the world, enveloping the country in a heavy blanket of turmoil and destruction.
Utahime liked to think she had a hand in it even now. That her existence had some purpose because it was proven from the valor that her ancestors exhibited. But as she soon turned her head to the left, she was reminded that despite the teasing that he threw her way. She knew there was a truth to it and her tiny flame of conviction was nothing on the blazing promise of talent that was the limitless user that walked alongside her in the streets of the Fushimi Sake district.
"Maaaaan. This is such a drag." Complained Gojo.
Utahime had a scalding barb at the ready but stopped herself after reciting the promise she made to Yaga-sensei like a mantra that she would refrain from answering the call of committing homicide. Aside from that, she-as much to her disdain- was actually growing concerned of her kouhai who seem to be developing an irritable streak.
He was infuriating, yes. But not irritable. He was usually the source of frustration but was not the one who harbored it inside of him.
And Gojo most of all usually made light of every situation in a sort of morbid sadism when doing curse work. But now he just seems so... Indifferent.
Noticing a particularly meaty second grade curse hanging from the entrance of a ramen house, Utahime opened her mouth to dispel it with her technique but had been beaten to it with a snap of Gojo's fingers reducing the curse into mulch and disintegrated matter.
"Fucking weaklings." She heard him mutter under his breath.
She was used to hearing Gojo address the non-sorcerers as something under him, but never in a disgusted tone that was addressing beneath the sole of his boot. He would often gloat; "youve been saved mortals. Get on with your ignorance and mortal ways." Or "That's another wrap from the Great Gojo Satoru." Not like this.
Utahime crossed her hands over her chest, and gave Satoru a scalding look. "Would it kill you not to be a cad for a day?"
Gojo peered up his glasses, deeply blue in boredom. "Would it kill you not to be a demanding dictator? Kami, you sound like the elders. Gojo be more like this, no Gojo be more like that. Blah-blah-blah, always asking for more. You try being the strongest from time to time. It's not always a stroll through the park..." he lamented, the last sentence near unintelligible but Uta enraged as she was still listened attentively to him.
Surprised at the sudden rambling that bordered on sounding like a tired Gojo, Utahime sidled closer towards him causing the young man to widen his eyes a second before he swerved his attention at something over Uta's head.
"Is something bothering you Gojo?" She asked despite knowing the reason behind it. Heck everyone did. But she wasn’t going to say anything. Not yet that is.
The brat was a big thorn on her side, but she wasn't cruel enough to throw his grief into his face when he himself hasn't acknowledged it. He has to see it for himself that he is hurting. He has to know that it was okay to express it so that he can move on and acknowledge that even the strongest needs some help. And making him see it not in his own pace would make him go berserk. Gojo might've surpassed Utahime as a sorcerer, but he did not surpass her in being human.
For a second there, his blue eyes were stormy with emotion and debate. Weighing over his feelings and what to do with it. But he soon blinked that away, and Utahime distraught as she was had no choice but to let it be for now. Even though the curse of heartbreak and betrayal swirled around Gojo as well.
"Who me?" he scoffed incredulous. "Puh-lease. Like something would snap me from my cool. I'm nothing like you, sempai. I’m not someone who doesn’t have a solid grip on their emotions. What would your ancestors say when they see you badgering your kouhai like some meddlesome gossip? Weren’t shrine maidens supposed to embody amity and piousness?" He questioned back to Utahime, smirking down to her in gratuitous mirth.
He was bracing himself for another reprimand from the older girl, but was surprised to see her simply take a breath and turn around, walking for the direction of the torii gate entrance of the Fushimi Inari Shrine. This time vehemently ignoring Gojo not to preserve her sanity. But her composure.
He usually would’ve reveled having pushed Utahime tearful but now it just didn't settle into him as an achievement.
Reluctantly, he followed after her, his steps easily catching up to her, but his chest heavy and dragging behind with a clusterfuck of emotions.
-----
Utahime marched into the arched walkway of the Fushimi Inari shrine with its long line of torii gates that served at its entrance. With Gojo miraculously following in tow.
Both her hands were fisted on her sides and she bit her lip to stifle the sob that threatened to escape her.
One day, one day she was going to break his teeth in.
She knew that Gojo wouldn't easily soften up and bare his walls down-infinity and all- for her. That wasn't him. Gojo was emotionally constipated like the teenager he is, sinking into his teenage angst and keeping it to himself. And she knew everyone processed their grief different.
Her father as an example made sure to strengthen the bond, he and Utahime shared as family when her mother passed away. He didn't shy away from people's compassion.
But Gojo... He was Gojo. He'd always viewed himself as superior, because the servants of his clan treated him as such and his parents living as they were was stolen the responsibility to nurture him in his younger years because Jujutsu society decided that he should be trained early on to be the ideal sorcerer. Unfeeling and formidable.
And here he was. An ideal sorcerer indeed, turning away from his own grief after having lost his best friend, the only person that made him think that maybe it was okay just to be a man mingling amongst fellow men. That the strongest had a purpose that didn't have to go according to the ways of Jujutsu society, but merely sticking up to his responsibility as a sorcerer while also living as a human as well.
There was only so much Utahime could do. And the idea that even she would fail to make Gojo understand that being human did not make you weak just as it did not make her weak, or that compassion for others wasn’t a measly reason to continue fighting. It was enough to bring tears to her eyes.
She was going to fail Yaga-sensei. She was going to fail the jujutsu world. She was going to fail as a woman.
She was going to fail Gojo.
Utahime sniffed back tears as discreetly as she could, and willed the ones brimming by her lashes to not fall. She had been walking past the first array of torii gates when she felt something in her chest lurch.
Utahime froze in her tracks, and watched as the quaint little charm that hung about her neck-a red thread of weaved rope for protection- was torn asunder by some invisible malignant force. She watched the string of rope float slowly to the ground, split in half, threads where it had been cut fraying on the ends.
Oh no.
"Gojo." She swiveled backwards meeting the pitch black of his glasses with bare brown eyes.
Gojo nodded at her. "Get behind me."
Utahime balked at him offended. "Gojo I'm not some hapless mai--"
"LOOK OUT!" Goja ran forward and shoved Utahime back with a hand on her shoulder.
Utahime fell flat on her bum at the sheer force Gojo had pushed her.
Couldn't he have at least been a little---
A loud smoky hiss reached Utahime's ears and she opened her eyes wincing as she sat up on her elbows to check on Gojo who was thankfully unharmed but standing in the center of a circumference of what she assumed was a scorch mark that did not look like it was berthed from flames. The concrete was a shade darker, a hue it took up when it got wet from rain.
Utahime's brown eyes went skyward, and it widened at the sight of a malformed cursed spirit, hands limbs and eyes smattered on every surface of the glob shaped beast. A big gaping mouth with its tongue lolled out to the side, dribbled with gurgling spittle and saliva that trickled down and fell to the ground in a smoky hiss.
"Hime step back."
For once Utahme did not argue with him and scrambled up her feet to troop backwards. It was a special grade curse, and immediately she slipped a hand over the billowing sleeve of her hakama reaching for the familiar callouses of the slender Sakura branch secured by her forearms with a leather sheath.
Utahime pondered if it was too soon to use it. She rarely went for her cursed technique opting instead on annihilating them with her other weapon- a shorthand dagger strapped by her thigh concealed in the red pleats of her hakama trousers. It wasn't that her technique was weak per se. But it was too... Intangible. It required at least the majority of her focus. But she can’t do that when she was dodging acid drips or making sure Gojo was alive. Not that the brat needed looking out for, it was just the protective sempai in her that acted up on instinct.
"Hey ugly!" Gojo called up to the cursed spirit, baring his teeth out in a grin that bordered on predatorial.
She watched Gojo stretch his arm out, fingers cocked into the shape of a gun and uttered, "Reversal Red."
Utahime quickly tore her gaze away from Gojo's cursed technique, well-informed of the destructive capacity it possessed.
She stood there, arm raised to hide her face from the flash and waited for---
Nothing.
Utahime blinked her eyes open bewildered and carefully peered over her arm, flabbergasted to see Gojo guffawing full on in an unhinged fashion.
Her brows furrowed into each other at the sight, thinking that her kouhai finally snapped.
Searching for the monster Utahime looked back to where it stood only to see it....
Unharmed...
And much...
much....
Angrier than before.
"Hime." Gojo called her name for once without the playful undertones of an offensive jab that he was about to tell her.
Utahime lowered her eyes back at Gojo who flashed her his trademark eye smile.
"Run."
"What?"
The beast howled out an infuriated roar, that shook the ground to its very core causing the 2 sorcerers to stumble slightly on their feet before they regained their balance once the howling had ceased.
Gojo bade Utahime a brief sayonara and a 3-fingered salute before he went off speeding to the direction of where they entered.
What was he doing running away from a cursed spirit that he could easily burst into pieces?!
"GOJO!" She called after him, questions running inside her head at this shocking display of cowardice.
"RUN FOR THE OTHER END! GET AS FAR AWAY AS POSSIBLE!"
Utahime of course did the opposite of what she was told, especially given the fact the deformed globule that was the cursed spirit shot up the arch of the torii gate where it idly sat at first, and came crashing down to the ground, huge pudgy feet sprinting after Gojo.
Dammit. She had no choice. She can’t have Gojo lead the curse out to the public.
Pushing her right hand into the left sleeve of her Miko, Utahime fished for the Sakura branch and slid it out of its fastened belt hole. The bells that were looped in a string and coiled over the length of the branch with buds of Sakura blossoms stuck up the tips of the branches tinkled from having unfastened from their safety.
Utahime closed her eyes and took a deep breath of courage. Steady Utahime beckon only this one curse.
Opening them once again, she whipped the branch out of her sleeve and circled them in a wide arc over her head before lowering it back down to her side.
Asore!
Utahime shook the branch slightly to ring the bell. The mind tinkle of the instrument sent a shockwave to shoot out of her, sending the trees and plants nearby to rustle and grow more verdant in color.
From afar, the heavy footfalls of the curse stopped. At first silence dragged on for a good 5 seconds. But Utahime steeled herself and kept her gaze fixed in the space in front of her, hand tight on the ritual instrument in her hand.
Come on beast.
Another slight jerk of the branch and the ring of the bell, she raised it over to her front as it she had a sword parried towards her enemy and began chanting the first verse of the ritual song.
watasha hana ka (Am I a flower,…)
The stomps of the cursed returned and this time it was thudding towards her, Utahime kept her voice stable and chanted the next few lines. Another graceful sweep of the branch before her, drawing the signal for "come hither" in the air.
chouchou ka oni ka(… a butterfly, or a demon?)
The monster had appeared from the curb, and right behind it was Gojo.
"WHAT ARE DOING HIME!?"
aware mi mo yo mo (Ah! Should I no longer be concerned…)
Utahime continued singing as the monster was getting closer. Just a bit more. Not too close. But not too far.
araryou mono ka (… about my body or this world?)
"HIME!”
beni no kawari ni (What I wield is not a lipstick, …)
Just a little more.
sasu no wa yaiba ja (… but a piercing blade.)
"UTAHIME!" Gojo's cry had gone frantic.
NOW!
Utahime ceased with the ritual dance and song. With a fierce vertical slash of the cherry blossom which transformed into a ceremonial dagger, the monster was now charging a yard away from Uta. Close enough for her to hear the ghastly pants of the curse and smell the putrid stench of its breath.
"GOJO! USE YOUR PURPLE HOLLOW!"
"YOURE IN THE WAY!"
"DO IT!" She shrilled back, patience thinning and her anxiety shooting up in heights higher than the torii gates. Utahime was only an arm’s length of distance to the monster. Scared, she tore her gaze from what she thought would be the last image she sees before she's flattened into a bloody mess on the ground.
But that was not happening today.
Amidst the sound of the stampeding feet of the monster, Utahime could make out the solid tone of Gojo's voice uttering the moniker of his cursed technique.
"Purple Hollow."
The sound of the air sucking into swooping vortex was immediately followed by the sound of a resonant 'BOOM' that took place once his cursed technique detonated.
Utahime with her arm brought up once again to shield her face, covered her eyes from the blinding indigo of Gojo's cursed technique, and the hurtling pieces of cursed rigor mortis that blew through the shockwave. Her boots dug into the ground to prevent herself from falling over, skidding a few feet from the force of the explosion that soon dwindled down into nothing.
A wet sticky feeling pelted all over Utahime, and she quickly lowered her gaze down the sleeve of her white Miko, and the front of her trousers, stained with cursed spirit rigor mortis.
Great. This was going to take a week to scrub off. Well at least she was relatively unscat--
"Hime!"
Utahime's brown eyes shot up at the sound of her name coming from Gojo who was jogging up to her.
Her face contorted into a scowl, the damned brat didn't have a hair out of place, and not a smidgen of cursed residue on him.
Damn convenient infinity.
"Hime!"
Utahime sighed tiredly under her breath, preparing herself for whatever teasing he was about to drop on her. Probably on her soiled uniform. Her pigtails falling out of their ties, the sissy branch in her hand that he'd probably poke fun of and call a girly weapon. She was going to cut him off before he could even get a word out.
"Put a sock in it Go--"
Hands immediately seized Utahime by the shoulders and trembling eyes raked over her form.
Shock wracked inside of her causing a painful-sounding hitch of a breath to escape her lips.
Gojo stopped with his perusal and looked Utahime in the eye.
Utahime stared back, brown eyes wide and alarmed at this foreign acting Gojo, who had his hands on her, covered in cursed spirit residue. The inside of his fingernails probably embedded with it, which was an enormous pet peeve to the six eyes user.
She once witnessed the brat go off into a tantrum spending the rest of the after game ceremonies moaning about his expensive coat getting a pea sized stain after annihilating one of the more difficult curses in their Kyoto goodwill event in Uta's second year in Tokyo tech.
But here he was, hands gripped on her shoulders, in what she assumed was...
A sobering expression suddenly took up Gojo's face snapping Utahime out of her reverie and it soon stretched into a teasing grin.
"You cryin' Utahime?"
It took a while for Utahime to process his word only to notice a cold sensation over her cheeks that was not caused by the draft that breezed by.
Her hands tightened into a fist, and rage rapidly coursed through her veins burning her body alight. Oh, he was going to get it.
She was going to punch that stupidly blessed face while his infinity was---
KACHAK.
Utahime and Gojo flinched, and in eerie sync cranked their head to the side to see that a group of tourists gaped in awe at a bloodstained Utahime, an unmarred Gojo, and an obliterated mulch filled wasteland that had once been the famous vermillion torii gates of Fushimi Inari Shrine.
"Fuck." Gojo muttered, voicing the single foreboding thought that came up Utahime's head.
-----
Hell. It had been days since Suguru had been touring Southern Kyoto visiting shrine after shrine.
“Doing god’s work.”
Oh, these monkeys were so eager to be saved. Kyoto was by far one of the most superstitious places in Japan, and the people of the Star Religious Group, thought he should spread his religious preaching here where belief is much needed.
He had just finished his appearance at the Daigoji temple, with his next stop over at the Fushimi Inari Shrine where his followers had apparently already set up the stage by the foothills of Mount Inari. A spectacle for which tourists, residents, and run of the mill bystanders will witness his auspicious powers of exorcism and feats of miracle work. To be frank he was actually at the hunt for a particularly powerful cursed spirit that had surrounded the mountains with intense levels of cursed malintent, feeding the spread of horror and macabre stories that now circulated around Mount Inari that was usually known as sacred land. A place that should be near impossible for curse infestation. But ah, the seals have broken, and its divinity was just itching for corruption.
It's only been well over 6 months since the seal broke, pretty recent much like his turn of the tide.
Now, just to gather a particularly huge accumulation of that curse for him to collect o—
“Oh?”
watasha hana ka (Am I a flower…)
Suguro stopped from where he descended down the front steps of the Daigoji temple, feeling a tug in his gut at the mysterious siren call.
chouchou ka oni ka(… a butterfly, or a demon?)
The voice was located North West from where he stood.
A buzz from nearby had him raise his head up, and slim almond eyes widened in surprise. Curses, mostly lower grade, but a flock of them were heading that way. Enticed by the soothsong of whoever was singing the mystical script.
“Getou-sama!” Called over his hired carpool for his trip here in Kyoto.
Stealing one last glance at the trail of cursed spirits flying towards North West, he called after his valet. “Let’s go for a drive.”
-----
A car slid into a park from the street across where the Fushimi Inari Taisho lands began. The car window rolled down, and the spectator watched the throng of Kyoto citizens and flocks of tourist marvel over the mass destruction that had occurred to one of Japan’s most historical and sacred sites.
And amidst that caldera of destruction was a familiar platinum-haired, sunglasses wearing motherfucker, hunched over in—oh?
That was intriguing. He was worried and mother hen prodding on to---
Geto raised his brows up in surprise and at the same time fascination.
That was Iori-sempai.
Geto observed his former best friend and former upperclassmen, noting how the latter was heavily desecrated with cursed spirit remains and in her hand was a slender branch of a Sakura tree. Geto found himself fixating onto her and note the way cursed energy fluctuated out of her in soothing waves.
Like he had homing beacon radar calling for him.
The buzzing of a lower grade whizzed past the roof of the car and she watched it, as well as other lower grade curses have gathered on top of the electrical lines of the lamp post, in branches on nearby trees, and over protruding statues and the line up of torii gates that weren’t destroyed.
All of them transfixed as well at the sorceress he was staring at.
Oh this was interesting.
Curious and interesting.
------
Gojo felt like he's seen this before.
Yaga-sensei standing menacingly in front of him like the depictions of some god about to pass on judgement to a sinning mortal man. Only, make that sinning mortal man the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of his generation and the bearer of both the six eyes and limitless technique, but nonetheless cowed into executing a dogeza for the same exact reason he was brought down to his knees and scolded in his freshman year.
He failed to put up a curtain.
And not just that...
"1.3. million yen's worth of property damage paid to restore the sacred torii gates of the Fushimi Inari Taisho. Another million as an apology to the Southern Kyoto Provincial Congress. Another to the Kyoto Historical Association, since destruction of a historical landmark was another sector of property damage and transaction. And hush money paid to the local news center to write off the mess you made as an underground gas sewer explosion. Would you like me to go on how the higher ups had to expedite a team to hunt down the tourists that took pictures of you and Utahime covered in cursed remains?"
On his right, Utahime-freshly showered and wearing a new set of hakama- sharply flinched at the list of fuck ups he and Utahime (mostly him like always) had created in this mission.
Gojo rolled his eyes under the veil of his tinted glasses but Yaga-sensei did not miss the annoyed click of his tongue.
"Is there something you'd like to say Satoru?"
Gojo nudged his chin up in defiance, and stared up at his teacher---err... Principal's heavy scrutinizing gaze.
"In our defense we did as we were told. We exorcised the course. It was hardly our fault that it resulted to a shitshow--"
"GOJO!" scolded Utahime. Scandalized with his choice of words but he ignored her and continued to save them from getting their ass chewed on even further. Or maybe just him. The higher ups would be a bit lenient with Utahime seeing how she was one of their docile puppies.
"---and had caused quite a mess. You knew what it would be like to have me go on a mission, my technique isn't actually ideal for being discreet. And as for the curtain---"
"Which we are sorry for sensei, a grave mistake such as this would not be done twice." Utahime spoke above him through gritted teeth and nudged him with an elbow for him to stop.
Which he didn't because it was only right he stand up for them. They were not at the wrong here and the higher ups just loved to transfer the blame on to someone else and not look within their system. that they too had their fuckups.
"---putting it up would’ve resulted in the one thing that you so specifically told us not to do."
Utahime stopped the oratory of apologies which she expressed to Yaga-sensei as her attempt of saving their asses from further punishment. A topic that hasn’t been finalized actually and has yet to be discussed which explains why Gojo is doing his damnedest to get his plea across and be acknowledged by Yaga-sensei.
"What do you mean?" Utahime asked curious, her dark brows furrowing in question.
"It means my darling sempai--" that earned him another jab, but in which he deflected by raising up his infinity and sent Utahime writhing to the floor, hitting a pretty sensitive nerve ending by the tendon of her elbow "---that raising the curtain up would’ve unleashed the cursed spirit to the public after we have dismantled the mobius loop barrier from the inside. I wasn’t running for my life when my red reversal did not work--yet again, damn I need to work on that, erm anyway----I was leading the cursed spirit farther away from a distance that hitting it another reversal red would not end up having the entire Fushimi Inari Taisho blown into smithereens."
Utahime sat up once again, perfectly poised even with as embarrassing a figure as a dogeza and looked up at Gojo with clear understanding in her eyes. "We were actually concealed from the non-seer's naked eye because we had been inside a cursed spirit's barrier and purple hollow being a rather precision-aimed cursed technique did not create as much destruction as your reversal red would."
"Would you look at that she actually has a brain." Joked Gojo at Utahime who snapped out of her ruminant reflection and shot a fist out to punch him on the shoulder only to be met with his infinity once again. A sharp pain spread over her knuckles and sent the girl's upper body folding forward over the floor clutching the throbbing hand over her chest, and mouth opened in a silent howl of pain.
Gojo watched amused, chortles escaping him, impeding his ability to breathe normally. Oh god where was his phone? he needed to snap a picture of this moment. The amount of black mail material Utahime produced in this mission were priceless. He managed to cop some pictures of Utahime covered in cursed spirit nasties, He should send Shoko some of it, it would surely bring some laughs out of her.
"Ahem."
Forgetting that they were still in the presence of Yaga-sensei and still at the midst of getting a verbal reprimand, the 2 sorcerers straightened up from whence they were folded on their knees, like soldiers called to attention.
Yaga merely sighed resignedly to himself and sat down on the lounge chair that was placed left of the decorative mahogany table and switched his gaze from Utahime to Gojo.
"To be frank I expected something not as worse as this because what else could actually be worse than this?" Yaga sensei mused out loud.
Gojo spoke with a finger raised up in the air. " I could have totaled the entire Mount Inari."
He flinched at the intensity of two pairs of eyes shoot him silencing glowers. Yikes, talk about a tough crowd.
"I'm obviously joking." He said laughing, but followed up with another phrase, and said, " Although it is possible."
"Gojo, shut up."
"Is that jealousy I hear Utahime? Aww don’t feel bad about your cursed technique, yours totally suit you. It totally fits into your girly shrine maiden image."
"I will castrate you."
"With what? A twig?"
Yaga silently watched the two bicker. Well, Satoru had been right it could've gotten a lot worse. At least Mount Inari wasn’t obliterated by his jujutsu.
But what he did expect however was to arrive in Kyoto after being given a report that the pair had gotten into a fight, only to be proven wrong and discovered that they have done exemplary teamwork but created quite the mess after the one time they actually worked well together.
Well wasn’t this quite the development.
"Alright. Cut it out before I let the higher ups deal with the two of you."
The two immediately shut up and resumed their rigid postures as they bowed before him.
"I ought to suspend the both of you and delay any promotion you'd earn if a higher grade level sorcerer recommended you to me."
Both Gojo and Utahime broke a sweat at that.
"But you both count yourselves lucky, especially you Satoru. You'd be in deeper shit if you weren't rich. The higher ups only could pay half for it, and Utahime's family could only pay through service."
Utahime gasped looking up at her Yaga-sensei in concerned surprise.
"They’re getting indentured to the higher ups?"
Yaga shook his head no. "They’re helping out by offering added manpower for physical restorations of the torii gates as well as divine ones."
His student sighed in obvious relief. He understood why the young girl would perk up at the mention of her family members and distant relatives tied to the jujutsu society in servitude. The Ioris weren’t an acclaimed clan. But the family tree of Iori was the only clan that had actually offered assistance during the cursed spirit and sorcerer ways back in the ye olden days. Which was why Utahime was brought up in strict traditions and ancestral customs. They were preserving the bloodline. Much like every other jujutsu sorcerer family.
"Sensei, I'm starting to not feel my legs can we stand up now?" Satoru asked with his index finger raised detaching Yaga out of his inner musings.
Yaga grunted at Satoru's familiar way of addressing him but released Utahime and him from the painful and rigorous act of disciplining.
Satoru and Utahime rose up from the floor, stumbling slightly in place after at least an hour of having the blood circulation in their legs get cut off from kneeling. Utahime ever so courteous bowed in thanks at him, while Satoru only went on his merry way stretching his legs out before pocketing his hands and twisting for the direction of the door.
"Hold on just a second. I haven’t briefed you with your next mission."
Utahime shot up from her bow and Gojo backtracked from the door to face Yaga once again.
"What do you mean next mission? I thought this was just a one-off thing?" He inquisitively remarked, tone escalating in pitch.
"Far from it. I did say you'd be exorcising curses in Kyoto. And I meant Kyoto as a whole." Yaga explained, tangling his fingers together in front of him.
Gojo dragged out a frustrated groan, and Utahime remained silent already informed of the mission, as well as Yaga's plans.
Satoru had done well exhibiting cooperation with Utahime who is nothing like Geto in terms of sheer power and technique. But seeing how she was successful in awakening the humane side of Satoru means that this plan of his had potential and the first experimental observation on Satoru's behavior had gone relatively well if not successful.
"Tomorrow you'd be heading for the Nishiki Market found here in Central Kyoto. The place is infested with lower grade curses but it would do well for you and Utahime to go. It would serve as a pretty good field trip for you to train on your technique at the presence of a huge crowd."
Satoru for once was left speechless, slack-jawed at the Information disseminated to him.
Utahime chuckled to the side, a hand primly covering her mouth, hiding the giggle she expelled under her breath.
"Well, that is all for tonight. You may now go to your quarters." Yaga dismissed them, untangling his fingers from each other and standing up to usher them out of his hotel room
-----
So here was the problem.
There was only one bed.
And there was Gojo and Utahime.
And Gojo was a spoilt rich kid that never slept on anything less of luxurious king-sized mattresses.
And Utahime was brought up in a middle-class household with a modest background, and was pretty fine with sleeping on a futon spread out on the floor.
The other thing is, according to social customs Men should exhibit chivalry towards women.
But social customs had changed and have also encouraged that women be equal with men, and that meant they too could be left sleeping on the floor and without creating social uproar out of it.
Long story short, Gojo wanted the bed and so did Utahime.
The only way to settle this was to...
"You okay there on your end Utahime?" Gojo asked smirking up at his sempai who was pointedly evading eye contact focused on the thing between them.
"shut it. I'm trying to focus."
"Mm-hmm right. okay, I will just reach my hand over and--"
haru sugite natsu kinikerashi shirotae no koromo hosu chō Ama no Kaguyama, droned a pre-recorded Karuta game narration that she and Gojo searched on the web using Gojo’s flip-phone.
The two scrambled for the middle, hands racing for the space between them...
Where an array of cards lay and Gojo was the first to savagely flick the karuta card off the tatami floors that contain a verse from the 1st poem of the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu.
Utahime reclined back up on hands and knees watching the square plastic game card fly off to the corner of the room, and flip right side up. It’s digital-printed surface confirmed that the plastic card Gojo had swiped off the arrangement of cards jumbled across the floor had indeed been the kanji for one of the verses of the poem.
Utahime banged her fist on the floor with an angry snarl. Enraged at his victory. How could Gojo defeat her in a game that she had been playing since she was a child?
She was a master now at her age. It was a game that had her namesake in it. And this brat who was only introduced the game just half and hour ago had picked up on it and overthrew Utahime.
She wasn’t one for games, heck she was a licensed grade 2 sorceress. She barely even had time to join her father for tea sicne she graduated from Tokyo tech.
The only reason she agreed on settling their argument on who gets the bed was because Gojo agreed on a handicap, and that she gets the advantage of choosing which game would decide their fate.
But she was blinded from the opportunity of besting Gojo in something (forgetting that the brat had six eyes) and so she decided to play one of her favorite old card games.
Now that the adrenaline rush of having played Uta-garuta had left her body, she realized in dread that they should’ve played Jak-en-poy. Seeing how the odds were a lot more arbitrary.
"I'm getting the bed." Gojo announced in sing song and leapt up to his full height dancing around Utahime's form over the wooden floorboards, reveling at her loss. Still propped up on all fours and head lowered in defeat.
She calls bullshit.
Rising up to a stand, she placed her hands on her hips bellowing, "You cheated!"
Gojo stopped from his prancing, undeterred from the accusation, and simply leaned down smiling at her. "Did not."
"You used your six eyes! You could have deactivated it and used your normal sight." She insisted.
"Well, I'm sorry. But there is just no turning off with these baby blues. In case you forget I was born with them." He said, lowering his glasses down the bridge of his nose and batted her silvery ashes down at her.
Utahime try as she might to find that feature of him as freakish, her traitorous heart decided to lurch up her chest, and her head poured out in thought that it was the clearest shade of blue she had ever seen.
Kami, she wanted to tear someone's hair out. Preferably Gojo's. Maybe the brat would look less... appealing, if he had a bald spot on his head.
Yeah definitely would blow a hole in his visuals and his self-esteem.
"You are insufferable." She scoffed at him.
"And you are a sore loser. Better train harder Hime if you want to beat me. Not like that could ever happen. Not even in your elderly games." Gojo provoked chuckling in that abnormal sounding laughter.
Honestly who laughs like a generated robot that only had hehehehe pre-recorded system as its laughter?
Poking her tongue out at him. Yes, she knows, it wasn't mature at the slightest but there was no other way to express her utter distaste for the kid, and as much as acts of violence go. It wasn't a fruitful endeavor seeing how Gojo had his infinity.
Damned gifted brat.
A flash detonated in front of her followed by the sound of an electric snap shot and she opened her eyes from having her face scrunched together as she poked her tongue that it dawned on her that Gojo had taken a picture.
"GIMME THAT!" She shrieked mortified chasing after Gojo over the circumference of the room, trying to get a hold of his cellphone which contained some seriously embarrassing black mail material.
"GOJO!"
Gojo suddenly stopped in his tracks and Utahime slammed into him or rather his infinity and pain bloomed over her nose.
"Owww." She whined hands flying up her face, where the bridge of her nose was throbbing.
Gojo was simpering to herself, smile wide as he typed through his phone with one hand whiel the other was loosely shoved into his pocket.
"And sent!" He announced, a self-satisfied grin on his face, before he tossed it over the air and said "Utahime catch!"
Utahime snapped her eyes up and quickly removed her hands from her nose, and clumsily juggled the phone in her hands like a hot croquette and later on deftly caught it in her hands.
She Glowered at Gojo first before flipping his phone open. Mortification instantly heating her face up to see that a collection of photos from when Utahime had been covered in curse guts and a most recent photo of her childishly poking her phone out had been sent to Shoko.
Seething she grabbed for one of the pillows on the bed--- on Gojo’s bed she thought with dreaded acceptance-- and flung it to him, surprise coursing through her when she noticed that he caught it with his hands instead of putting up his infinity to deflect it.
"You don’t have your infinity up." She pointed out.
Gojo sobered from his laughing fit, caught off guard as well that he had took down his infinity.
"Uhm."
The two stared each other dumbfounded before Utahime was the first to look away, staring down at Shoko's contact number and email address. A subtle pinch on her heard suddenly taking over at the thought of her other kouhai.
"How is she doing? Is she okay?" She asked Gojo whilst somberly gazing down at his phone.
"She hasn't actually responded. I'll be paying her a visit once this mission is done. She's probably busy after having decided to enroll in medical school as well after we graduate in Tokyo tech."
Utahime nodded sagely at him. Concern eating up at her after having realized that she wasn't the only one Shoko hasn’t responded back on their emails. She should pay a visit as well. Not with Gojo of course, but maybe someday as well after she finishes this mission.
"She'll be fine. Shoko's got tough skin. Unlike you."
Utahime scowled at him. Can't he go on for at least a minute without having to tease her in the most serious of moments or as means to fill in the silence?
"Also, get off my bed you’re standing on it." He said, walking for the queen-sized bed and whatever complaints she had of Gojo was then replaced by the horrid realization that albeit not exactly doing anything scandalous, she and Gojo were in retrospect sharing a room.
Not that she thought Gojo was capable of taking advantage of her. He wasn’t that disrespectful. but what would her father say if he found out he was sharing the same sleeping quarter with the single-most infuriating underclassman Utahime had ever been given. And a man at that.
"Earth to Utahime. I need to get my beauty sleep." Gojo's voice rang through her thoughts and showered her with icy awareness upon seeing that he was now standing on the bed with her too. Waving a slender-fingered hand over her face to get her attention.
Utahime panicked pacing back on the sheets only to slip and fall on the floor with her bum breaking her fall.
"I-ittai."
Gojo was full on cackling and taking pictures once again.
Utahime too hurt to lunge for him simply skewered him with a harsh look before rising up to her feet and heading for the cushiony sofa that was facing the wide T.V. propped up at the lounge area.
"Night sempai~ don’t take advantage of me in my sleep~" crooned Gojo from the bedroom and Utahime, with a vein popping over her forehead reached for the vase that stood on the center ornamental table just to vent out her rage had sent the vase crashing to the double doors of the bedroom that closed at the last minute.
"OVER MY DEAD BODY GOJO!"
-----
It was relatively quiet in his room. The sound of nightlife and transportation whizzing outside the window of the hotel they spent the night.
Gojo could’ve easily gotten himself another room at the same floor but did not want to miss an opportunity to rile up his sempai once again. She had the most comical and expressive of reactions.
Gojo found himself laughing but soon froze over and stopped upon realizing something off.
The heavy weight in his chest wasn’t necessarily gone. But it was bearable and laughing did not come out as if he had to do it for appearance’s sake.
He was laughing because he felt like it.
Turning over his side, he stole a glimpse on the digital clock was upended on the bedside table of his room. Along with a table lamp and a hotel pamphlet. Feeling for the hanging lamp switch of the device fashioned in a string of beads, Gojo tugged it down and laid right back down on the bed only to sit up once again. Utterly restless.
His bare gaze soon trailed to the double doors and found his racing thoughts wonder about what lay beyond- specifically a sleeping Utahime. Which he hoped she struggled in sleep as well so that he could see the sight of a crabby sleep deprived sorceress in her hands, and watch her blow a gasket.
Grabbing for the phone under the pillow on his left, Gojo flipped it open and sighed to see that there wasn’t any messages sent to him. Not even from that little urchin he took into his home.
Ungrateful little prick. Didn't even send him off with a proper goodbye. Absolutely nothing like that openly affectionate sister of his. Somebody wasn't going to get his souvenirs.
On the other hand he really did hope Sho was okay.
There were things he wanted to discuss with her that being the one thing that had been niggling Gojo with curiosity ever since their most tiring exorcism of the day had been performed. Or that she performed. Utahime's cursed technique.
He knew for a fact that it involved singing, from what he gathered in his upperclassman's stories, especially from a blushing Kusakabe-sempai who gushed and waxed poetic about her technique like she wasn’t some shrine priestess but instead had been the mythical goddess they worship on the daily.
The image of her wielding a ceremonial dagger that he sure had seen was a Sakura tree branch came in mind. Followed by the lingering notes that he could make out and remember from the song.
She looked so...
Otherworldly.
And her song...so alluring.
The cursed energy that surrounded them in that barrier was even responding to it, shuddering as if pleasantly coddled, that he feared that the barrier would break from Utahime's siren song.
Her voice beckoned the cursed energy, and even the cursed energy inside of him wished to run her way, and do her bidding.
Gojo realizing that his thought sounded awfully... Gross and nothing different from his Kusakabe-sempai's sappy compliments shook his head clear of thoughts of Utahime.
Slipping back into his sheets. He forced his eyes shut, as well as his mind. Ignoring the pang of yearning inside of him that wishes to hear that ritual song once again.