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The cursed energy in the air was suffocating. Satoru Gojo stood in the middle of a ruined street, his blindfold tugged snugly over his eyes.
Behind him, the city was eerily silent, the sort of silence that came only when people knew better than to stick around. Something unnatural was out there, something powerful.
The Jujutsu sorcerer’s lips curled into a smirk. Special grade, huh? About time something interesting happened.
The ground beneath him crackled, splinters of concrete giving way as the air shimmered ahead. A figure emerged from the haze, stepping lightly into view as though he had all the time in the world.
Gojo tilted his head. The cursed spirit looked... different. A man, or at least something that resembled a man, dressed in dark robes with a high collar. His spiky black hair shifted with the faint breeze, and a strange insignia adorned the back of his cloak: a fan-like design in red and white.
What was stranger still were his eyes, burning with a crimson glow, etched with strange patterns that seemed to shift if you stared too long.
Gojo raised a hand, resting it lazily on the back of his neck. “Huh. You’re not exactly what I expected. Aren’t curses supposed to be a little more... monstrous?”
The man didn’t answer, only stared at him with an unnerving calm. His gaze was piercing, the kind of look that seemed to assess every move you might make before you even thought about making it.
For a moment, Gojo wondered if he’d stumbled across something entirely new. “Not much of a talker, are you? That’s fine. I’m great at keeping the conversation going.”
The figure finally spoke, his voice low and measured. “You’re the one radiating cursed energy. Are you the source of this distortion?” There was no hostility in his tone, only a cold curiosity.
Gojo blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Me? Buddy, I think you’re a little confused. I’m here to deal with you. Special grade curses don’t just show up for tea and cookies, you know. But hey, I’m flattered if you think I’m scarier than you are.” He chuckled, stretching his arms over his head. “Tell you what. I’ll make this quick. Don’t take it personally—it’s just business.”
Before Sasuke could respond, Gojo vanished, a streak of blue slicing through the space between them. The cursed spirit’s Sharingan flared instinctively, and he sidestepped just in time, feeling the air ripple where Gojo’s hand had been a moment earlier.
Sasuke pivoted, his hand snapping up as lightning crackled to life in his palm. “Chidori,” he muttered, thrusting the concentrated bolt toward his attacker.
Gojo didn’t flinch. The instant the Chidori neared him, it dissolved, scattering into harmless sparks that danced around his body. “Oh, that’s cute. You’ve got tricks.” His voice was light, almost teasing, but Sasuke’s eyes narrowed.
There was no opening, no gap in the sorcerer’s defenses. It was as if an invisible wall surrounded him, bending reality itself.
D O N ' T C O P Y , D O N ' T R E P O S T , D O N ' T P L A G I A R I Z E , D O N ' T T R A N S L A T E , D O N ' T C O P Y , D O N ' T R E P O S T , D O N ' T P L A G I A R I Z E , D O N ' T T R A N S L A T E , D O N ' T C O P Y , D O N ' T R E P O S T , D O N ' T P L A G I A R I Z E , D O N ' T T R A N S L A T E , D O N ' T C O P Y , D O N ' T R E P O S T , D O N ' T P L A G I A R I Z E , D O N ' T T R A N S L A T E , D O N ' T C O P Y , D O N ' T R E P O S T , D O N ' T P L A G I A R I Z E , D O N ' T T R A N S L A T E , D O N ' T C O P Y , D O N ' T R E P O S T , D O N ' T P L A G I A R I Z E , D O N ' T T R A N S L A T E , D O N ' T C O P Y , D O N ' T R E P O S T , D O N ' T P L A G I A R I Z E , D O N ' T T R A N S L A T E , D O N ' T C O P Y , D O N ' T R E P O S T , D O N ' T P L A G I A R I Z E , D O N ' T T R A N S L A T E , D O N ' T C O P Y , D O N ' T R E P O S T , D O N ' T P L A G I A R I Z E , D O N ' T T R A N S L A T E , D O N ' T C O P Y , D O N ' T R E P O S T , D O N ' T P L A G I A R I Z E , D O N ' T T R A N S L A T E ,
“You’re not human,” Sasuke said flatly, his Sharingan spinning as he analyzed the phenomenon. Every attack he visualized crumbled before it reached the white-haired man.
But Gojo wasn’t the only one who could play games. Sasuke leapt back, weaving hand signs in rapid succession. “Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu.” A massive fireball roared to life, consuming the space between them in an instant.
Gojo stood his ground, the flames parting around him like water against a rock. He tilted his head, genuinely impressed. “Fire, lightning, cool eyes... You’ve got the whole package. But you’re still missing something important.” In a flash, he was behind Sasuke, one hand resting casually on the cursed spirit’s shoulder. “Speed.”
Sasuke whirled, his blade already drawn. The katana sliced through the air, but Gojo leaned back just enough to let the steel miss him by a hair’s breadth. “Whoa, feisty! But you’re not really going for the kill, are you?” He grinned, his tone turning almost playful. “What’s the deal? Special grades don’t usually hesitate like this. Don’t tell me you’re one of those ‘noble curse’ types.”
Sasuke’s grip on his sword tightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice hard. “I only target those things... the monsters that prey on the weak.” His Sharingan burned brighter, and for the first time, Gojo hesitated. Something about those words rang strangely honest.
“Oh?” Gojo’s tone softened, though the smirk never left his lips. “You’re saying you don’t hurt people? That’s a new one. Usually, your kind doesn’t care who gets caught in the crossfire.”
Sasuke frowned, lowering his sword slightly. “My kind? What do you think I am?”
Gojo tilted his head, genuinely curious now. “You’re a cursed spirit, right? The big bad energy haunting this part of town? Special grade, judging by your power level. Pretty high on the ‘exorcism priority’ list.”
Sasuke’s expression darkened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not a spirit. I’m Uchiha Sasuke, and I’m hunting those creatures.” He gestured to the desolation around them. “The ones responsible for this.”
Gojo blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Wait... he doesn’t know? The realization hit him like a jolt. This wasn’t some ordinary curse, acting on instinct or malice. Whatever Sasuke was—or had become—he didn’t understand his own nature.
For a moment, the two stood in silence, the tension between them taut as a drawn bowstring. Gojo’s smirk faded, replaced by something more thoughtful. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You really don’t know what you are.”
Sasuke didn’t respond, his expression unreadable. But his silence spoke volumes. Gojo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, this complicates things. You’re not exactly making my job easy, you know. If you’re not attacking people, then what am I supposed to do with you?”
Sasuke’s Sharingan flickered, the patterns in his eyes shifting. “Leave me alone. I’m not your enemy. If you stand in my way, I won’t hold back.”
Gojo’s smirk returned, but there was a flicker of something more genuine in his expression now—curiosity, maybe even respect. “Alright, Sasuke. I’ll bite. You’re not like the others, I’ll give you that. But if you’re lying...” He let the threat hang in the air, his tone as casual as ever but carrying an undeniable weight. “Let’s just say you won’t enjoy what comes next.”
Sasuke didn’t answer, turning away as if dismissing the sorcerer entirely. Gojo watched him go, hands stuffed in his pockets, his mind racing.
This cursed spirit—if that’s what Sasuke truly was—was unlike anything he’d ever encountered. For the first time in a long time, Satoru Gojo felt something unexpected: intrigue.