Chapter Text
Wind chime echoed across the empty air. Sun rays beamed through the crystal, reflecting purple light on the walls. It seemed to buzz with a strange power, a radiant, strong, but soft presence of broken reflections, seeping into itself all the colours there were in a reaching distance.
The man smiled, brushing his thumb across the crease, the gentle touch emphasizing the strange fuzz.
— Did not think it would come to it, but it seems that I have found some compability by the DNA. I was not planning for it to happen this late into the plan, but a little mix of fun would not hurt. I should thank you for that, Ren.
The lock of black hair laid safely in the vacuum plastic, just beside the waxed pinky finger. The artifacts that he kept hidden away this whole time in hopes of using them. And now, he found a good candidate to test his theory on.
— I am surprised, though. A parallel reality is a bit far, even for you. I would have to try hard to find a way to contact it. But it will be a fun experience, besides, I am sure your power will help me.
The crystal sizzled, emanating blue glow.
The man laughed.
— Ah, you are mad, eh? Well, do not worry. You will reunite with your successor soon.
***
Buzzing sound went through their head, empowering pulsating headache. The body felt stiff, unable to move anything without feeling pain. They groaned, attempting to move hands to grab at the head but wrists didn't budge. Squeezing their eyes shut, neck leaned forward, forming stiffness in the muscles.
They groaned again, shifting the hands, slowly coming to senses.
But wrists didn't budge, restricted from movements. Each tug created a nasty burn against the skin.
What happened? The last thing in memory is a man's silhouette looming over, but somehow, there is no feeling of being hurt, or danger, just mightly uncomfortable.
And... The memories were a mess. A mix of jumbled up, bright flashes, scattered around, making no sense, even if put up together.
Blinking blurriness out of eyes, they raised their chin up. Soft glow from the candles filled small room, casting long shadows on the concrete.
With furrowed eyebrows, they focused vision on the wall, covered in paper with symbols, looking around.
Golden light splayed across the walls, and despite many candles scattered around the floor, the shadows in the corners lingered, like a portal to another world, slipping through the fabric of reality, just out of reach, so dark and infinite.
"This can't be right," a thought passed, shifting wrists again and looking back, seeing them tied down to a sturdy, very familiar chair.
The smell of the burning wood filled nostrils, overwhelming the senses and for some time they just sat there, like a character when player pauses the game, staring blankly at the concrete under the boots.
Clothes felt strange. As if they weren't made to fit this body, restricting and tight across shoulders, bunching up on knees and thighs.
They blinked slowly, shaking head to get rid of the dizziness, only making it worse, long hair getting into the face, covering the half of it.
That's gotta be a dream. No way this is happening.
Something moved in front and, for a moment, it was scary to look up, heart stammering and slowing down in the rate, almost ready to stop.
Pulling it together, taking a slow, steady breath in and out, putting on defiant expression and raising eyes up...
Only to fully lose all the shit when was met with a familiar blindfold.
Satoru Gojo himself stared up behind the cloth.
— Oi! — the man perked up in surprise, sitting up straight with his chest against the back of the chair.
— You woke up!
Blinking heavily, staring at the man in front, fully dressed in familiar attire, grinning. But... is this even real?
It's probably drugs. Yeah, that's it. Just hallucinating.
The man frowned when no reaction followed. He shifted slightly, putting his hands on the back of the chair and his chin on top of them.
— Do you speak Japanese? — Satoru asked, looking straight forward.
Fighting the dizziness, blinking fast, keeping it together.
— Just a little bit.
What was that... voice? Why did it sound so low?
— I'll switch to English then, — the man continued, leaning back.
— I assume, you know where you are and who I am. Correct?
They slowly straightened back, cracking it a little bit.
— Yes.
Gojo nodded, smiling.
— Good, — he seemingly relaxed his shoulders, — You're probably very confused right now. But don't worry, I'm not here to hurt you.
— Why'd you tie me up then?
— Safety precautions,— he explained, shrugging, — I mean, you can't hurt me, — Satoru grinned, — Obviously. But principal Yaga insisted, so I just listened to him, that'll calm his nerves a little bit.
He stood up, turning the chair around and sitting back down, crossing his long legs.
— You've created quite the commotion here. Passed through Tengen's barrier, fell from the sky, appeared out of nowhere, — he crossed his arms, — I've ought to catch you, otherwise, our janitors would be scraping you from the concrete.
They furrowed eyebrows, concentrating on the thoughts rather than discomfort.
— I fell? — they blinked, clearing their throat, yet the voice did not change.
— From the sky?
— Yup!
They stared at him in disbelief. If its drugs, then these stuff are very heavy on the brain.
Satoru tilted his head.
— What's your name?
— �̸̡͔̦̟̀̅�̶̮̮̦̀͂̓̏̔ል̴̼̲̟̦̑͋͗͊̏͗̕͝�̵̨͙̊͑͋̄̚�̵̮̞̭͌̀͒̆̂͘͠ል̵́͆̏̽, — they replied. But the sound didn't reach ears. As if this name doesn't exist. Just a bunch of scribbled sounds put together.
Satoru tilted his head with raised eyebrow, but decided to ignore it for now.
— How old are you?
— Seventeen, but my birthday's in March, so...
Satoru nodded, then put his hand in his pocket, taking out the phone.
— This yours?
— Yeah.
— You're cooperative so far, I like it! — he unlocked the phone, skipping through the password, — Makes it so much easier. I hope you'll keep this up, yeah? Wouldn't wanna cause any trouble.
They pursed lips together, not commenting on that.
Satoru went through the phone, like it was his own, scrolling through the gallery.
— You have quite some knowledge here. My photos, Shoko's photos, even Utahime's, — he looked up.
His gaze went straight through their chest. So, that's how it was, being observed by the six eyes...
Gojo leaned forward a little bit.
— Do you know how did you get here?
— I've no idea, — they shook their head, voice rumbling in chest, clearing out, but still keeping low.
He comically brought hand to his chin, cupping his cheeks a little bit and let out a loud 'hmmm' as if that would help him to understand the situation.
Satoru scratched his cheek.
— Well, — he turned the phone screen, showing a photo from gallery, — That you?
— Yes.
He pressed his lips in a pout, switching apps to the camera and turning the screen around.
— What about this?
It was hard to get it at first. Looking at the reflection in the camera, face half covered by long bangs. Nothing seemed to be different at first, but... The whole vibe was changed, somehow.
The shape of the face, especially jaw looked...
— Wha- what? How- what the hell?
Facial features completely outlined as masculine. No chubby cheeks or small chin. Instead now had defined cheekbones and stronger jawline.
Gojo observed the reaction, then leaned back, tucking the phone back in his pocket.
— That's what I try to understand, — he crossed his arms, — I'll be direct with you. We went through your phone and all the things you've had on you, including your passport. So, I have quite a lot questions.
They leaned back to rest the spine on the back of the chair.
— I'm not sure if I can answer all of them.
— That's alright, I wasn't expecting you to, — he said calmly, then sighed, taking off his blindfold, blue eyes lighting up in the semi dark room.
— So, — Gojo looked up, fixing his gaze straight, — What was the last thing you remember?
They frowned, squinting.
— I was at my apartment. I remember... Getting a package... It was a crystal- with blue, purple and pink ridges. Looked like something out of video game.
— A... crystal? We didn't found anything like that on you.
— That's... odd.
— So you received a package and what happened?
— I'm not sure. I blacked out and then woke up here.
He sighed, tilting his head back and thinking, his eyes following the outlines on the ceiling.
— I found manga pages in your gallery, — Satoru leaned forward, — They show my past, about ten years ago. What's that about?
— Uh, yeah, funny thing... If this whole thing is real and I'm not dreaming or hallucinating then I have only one explanation for this.
— Isekai? — Satoru raises an eyebrow.
— You have better thoughts on this?
Gojo hit his nails against the wooden chair.
— I guess we'll go with this one for now, — he said.
— I don't find you hostile in any way. But, you have to understand that most likely you're not gonna be able to walk free from this. You know too much.
— And what is that supposed to mean?
— Hmm, dunno, — he comically rubbed at his chin, thinking, — We didn't have any occasions like these before. Might just improvise. But don't worry, no one's intending to hurt you here, I promise. We just wanna know why and how you're here.
— That's a relief, — they looked down, — But I don't know these things either.
— We'll figure this riddle out together, but as for now, — he stood up, walking over, — I'll untie your hands.
This felt too surreal. Looking away, trying not to stare too much even if curiosity ate up from the inside.
Satoru untied the knot and sat back down.
— You're gonna stay here for a while before we try to figure something out. I hope you don't mind.
Looked up at him, massaging wrists.
— Do I have a say in this? — they asked skeptically.
— You do, — he nodded, grinning, — Just a tiny bit, though.
— Fair enough.
He raised a curious brow.
— Sooo, how do you want to be called?
— Huh?
— Well, you're here basically, starting new life, new information, blah blah blah. Might as well get in with a new personality.
— No, I think I'm good with my old one.
Satoru laughed softly.
— That's good. So..?
Eyes trailed down to the knees. Not only the facial features changed, but the whole body.
— Yan.
— Okie, Yan, — Satoru smiled, light from his eyes slowly fading away as he extended him his hand, — Nice to meet you.
Yan extended his own hand reluctantly, his smaller one fitting into Satoru's easily.
— Nice to meet you, too, Gojo-san.
***
Shoko looked him up and down, popping a strawberry milk lollipop in her mouth.
— Woke up already? Took you long enough.
Yan shifted awkwardly.
— Sorry.
She raised an eyebrow.
— What are you apologizing for? If I fell down from that height, I'd feel shitty, too.
Yan smiled.
— Good to know.
— Please sit down, I'll take a quick look at you.
Yan complied, sitting down at the infirmary bed, his eyes trailing around the room, recognizing the workspace he saw countless times.
Satoru walked in, closing the door behind himself.
— Do a quick one, Shoko, we'll need to get going soon.
— You can wait, nothing would happen, — she commented, not even looking at him, cupping Yan's face and examining him from the outside.
— Sure, if you want everyone to know who we got here, — Satoru grumbled, almost rolling his eyes.
Yan couldn't help but feel the awkward tension after none of them continued speaking. He tried to sit still and pretend everything was fine, even though it really wasn't.
— Iron deficiency and low blood pressure, — Shoko concluded, writing down the notes, — I'll give you vitamins with the prescription. Follow the rules and you should be alright in two weeks.
— Got it, thanks, — he nodded, looking as she rummaged through her stuff.
— You'll have to go to the doctor, though. You don't look too healthy.
— Okay.
Shoko took out the pills, scribbling some notes for him.
— Speaking of, — she glanced at Yan, — You might wanna get changed. These don't look comfortable.
Satoru nodded, agreeing.
— I'll give you some of my clothes.
Yan and Shoko both looked up at him, Yan in fright and Shoko in surprise.
— What? — Gojo blinked innocently, looking at them through his glasses.
— Err... — Yan shifted awkwardly, — Aren't they hella expensive?
— That's what you're worried about? — Satoru smiled.
— Don't pester poor kid, Satoru, — Shoko crossed her arms, sitting on the edge of her desk, — I've sent Ijichi to go find some of his size. He'll be here in a minute.
— Using your charms to advantage, I see? — Gojo teased but still looked pouty. He really did want to spend money on Yan, huh?
Shoko sent him an unimpressed glare.
Yan chimed in, still not used to a weird pitch of the voice.
— Does that mean... you told him about me?
Shoko turned his eyes on him.
— No. Just said I need some for work. Ijichi is a simple man. He's asked, and he does. No questions.
— That's good, — Yan nodded.
Satoru eyed him carefully.
— Why, are you scared your incognito would be uncovered?
— That's not it... — the teen crossed his arms, looking down at his feet, — I wouldn't wanna higher ups be involved in this whole scenario. I'm pretty sure you understand, Gojo-san.
Satoru tucked hands in his pockets, grunting in agreement. Shoko looked between them both, flicking her eyes back and forth.
— What's going to happen now, anyway? — Yan looked up, — A test? I'll be under observation? Or what?
— Maybe all at once, maybe none of those, we're not sure yet, — Satoru said, excessively moving his hand, — As you know, we had some weird cases, but... never like this. That's the next level of weird.
Yan nodded dreadfully. Yeah, he's not surviving allat.
— Hey now, don't hang your nose low, — Satoru grinned, sitting himself beside the teen, — It's not gonna be that bad, I promise. You cooperate, and we'll figure something, — he pointed at himself, — And by 'we' I mean myself, of course.
Yan looked at him.
— Why would you go through the trouble of helping someone you don't know?
Satoru raised his eyebrows. Hint of... something flashed in his eyes, turning his gaze away.
— That's the whole point of being a sorcerer-
— Cut the bullshit.
Shoko slid her gloves off, turning on her heels and walking across the room. There's no way she'll get herself involved in this. Nuh-uh.
Yan sighed, seeing surprise on Satoru's face.
— Sorry, I... — he covered his eyes, — I don't know what's going on, and it's stressing me out. I hate when stuff coming up without me being prepared for them, — he said in frustration, breathing out.
Gojo observed him for a couple of seconds.
— Don't worry, you're all good, — he place a hand on his shoulder, — I'll help you out. You're not the first. You certainly won't be the last.
— You really want those responsibilities stacked up on your shoulders, huh? — Yan mumbled, looking at him from his side.
Satoru smiled.
— That depends on you.
Yan blinked, then turned his gaze away, not bearing the stare and being too shy overall to handle closeness in general.
Gojo took his hand away right on the cue.
— You finished? — Shoko asked, closing the door behind herself, holding two bags from the shop full of clothes, — Your stuff arrived, Yan.
Thanks to the busy schedule of the students, there wasn't anyone in the shower facilities as of now, so Yan could suit himself freely with Gojo standing outside of the door to avoid anyone seeing him.
Yan didn't like the thought of making him wait, so he decided to do his stuff as quickly as he could.
But...
His palm slowly wiped away condensed water from the mirror, clearing out blurry reflection.
Some things were still the same, big gray eyes, little freckles, dark circles, button nose, gap between front teet, and long wavy chestnut hair.
His eyes trailed lower. His whole torso was flat.
For some reason, he felt quite disappointed. He remembered clearly being a girl, but he never really had problems with gender expressions. Though, hid body image could tip over slightly as of now... Mostly also because he doesn't remember all that much. As if the life before this day was a long dream.
He looked at his hands and arms. Beauty marks were in place, little moles and scars, darken spots from pimples, it was still there.
He slowly looked lower.
— ...Yikes. No skinny jeans now, — he joked to himself and even chuckled a bit, remembering certain comments he wrote before under Instagram posts, something about balls. Well, now it was kinda true.
Not quite, though.
Yan placed hands on his knees and just sat there, staring at his reflection, letting the water wash over him.
That's certainly not how he planned to spend his weekend.
Yan perked up.
— Right, I don't even know what time it is ... — he murmured to himself, rubbing in the lotion. At least he had some resemblance of control here. He knew what would happen, what to be prepared for. Should he even...?
Yan rinsed the lotion off, got up and dried off as quickly as he could, putting on a turtleneck and oversized gray t-shirt on top, tucking it inside black sweatpants.
Clothes were a little big on him, but it was okay, he wore similar at home anyway.
Teen tucked his own clothes in the bag, put on his jacket and beanie before walking out.
Satoru turned around.
— You're quick.
— Didn't want to make you wait.
The man nodded, leading him past the training grounds by the back alley.
— Where to now? — Yan asked, looking up, almost craned his neck to see Gojo's face.
— We'll go eat first, you're probably hungry, — Satoru looked at him, — Have a little chat, introduce you to place, get you used to it.
Yan trailed off slightly, but didn't complain. The faster he gets accustomed to the new environment, the better it'd be for him.
They walked out of the jujutsu high grounds, following the trail down. Yan assumed they'll take a bus and it was fine by him, honestly. He's been curled up in sitting position for too long, might as well stretch his limbs a bit.
Teen tucked hands in his pockets, breathing out in the cold air.
— Um... Gojo-san? — he paused, seeing Satoru look at him from the corner of his eye, — I was meaning to ask... What date is it?
— Oh, right, silly me, — he smiled, hitting himself on the forehead, — You're from... the future, right?
— Yeah, — Yan nodded.
— Well, congrats, you've traveled through space and time, because it is currently 2nd January of 2018.
Teen caught a short circuit, trying to remember the time-line, walking alongside in silence, while being observed, with the other not even hiding it.
Realization slowly came across Yan's face, his heart dropping to his stomach as he kept staring in front of himself on the flawless asphalt.
It was just a week after Suguru...
— I'm sorry.
Gojo blinked, looking at him from the corner of his eye. The shorter guy paid no mind to it, but really meant what he had said.
— It's... Okay, — Satoru said slowly, his eyes drifting off to the street.
The rest of the walk they've spent in silence.
***
Yan skimmed through the menu of the Cafe, feeling bad when looking at the prices even though Satoru didn't seem even slightest bit phased by them.
— I'll just... take this, — Yan pointed at a random picture from the list with a decent amount of numbers and delicious look, — If that's okay, — he added when Satoru looked up at him.
— Sure, — Gojo nodded, smiling. He couldn't help but find Yan's awkwardness adorable. Megumi in his place would never.
Yan sat quietly, listening to waitress talk with Gojo, recognizing certain words. It seems like his lessons in duolingo did pay off.
— So... While we sit here and wait, mind if I ask you couple of questions?
Yan leaned back in the seat, shuffling a little bit. It was unusual for him to reach the floor with his feet. The height changed as well, it seems.
— Sure. It's not like you need my permission anyway.
Gojo smiled.
— Just wanted to pretend to be polite.
Yan stiffened a laugh, chuckling quietly.
— Yeah, no need.
Satoru propped his head up with his palm, looking at teen as his free hand slid his glasses on top of his head.
— Tell me about yourself.
— W- What exactly do you wanna know?
— Well, what you were doing with your life before this happened?
— Nothing much, — he shrugged, — I've finished my college and worked at the store. Nothing quite remarkable, just a regular job with a regular payment.
— Any hobbies?
— Studying, writing, reading, I picked up on drawing lately, too.
Gojo nodded, keeping eyes on him.
— You're overachiever or something?
— Not at all, just a curious person, — Yan shook his head, — I like getting to know new things. That's why I started learning japanese and arts, because I was curious about it, about how much I can expand my knowledge and pick up new skills. You know, like trying to level up your character in the game?
Satoru chuckled at the comparison.
— Yeah, I can see that.
— You can say I'm a little bit of a nerd when it comes to certain stuff. Like humanitarian topics. I think I'm good at it.
— Yeah, I did see quite a lot of stuff in your gallery, with the photos from the internet, — Satoru nodded, casually looking over him to see his reaction.
— I was trying to do my blog, but it didn't really go well.
— Ah, a thirst for popularity.
— Not quite, — Yan shrugged, — More like... Seeking self assurance.
Waitress placed their orders on the table and quickly scurried off to not bother them in their chat.
— You do know what I wanna to ask you?
— I have an idea.
Satoru brought his food closer, opening chapsticks.
— How much do you know about... This world?
— Quite a lot, but not all, obviously, — Yan awkwardly looked down at the chopsticks and a spoon that waitress added to his tray, mentally thanking her for that, — I know what happened, some of the historical dates and what would happen this year.
Gojo paused rubbing the chopsticks against each other to look up at him.
— The whole year?
— Yes.
He hummed, resuming the motion.
— Well, isn't that a good thing? You'll be safer off like this, — Gojo digged in the food, munching on meat.
Yan blinked.
— You're not gonna ask me what I know? Or the future events?
— Nope, — he kept eating without looking at him.
Yan stared at him for a couple of seconds before trailing his gaze off, not wanting to seem weird.
— I thought you'd be interested.
— I'm not, — he declared, — What happens would happen, if you said you know the whole events for the year, then I don't see why I would ask you about them. I'm not interested in that, besides, it's my life, yeah? If it needs to go this way, then I'll take it.
Yan looked back at him, then took his spoon, shifting his attention to the food.
— Doesn't you bother my knowledge about this?
— A little bit, yeah, — he shrugged, looking up, — But, it's not like you did something to end up here on purpose. You need to be crazy to want to go here while knowing what's going on.
Yan chuckled.
— You're right.
Satoru observed him before going back to his food.
— Well, anyway, I need you to get used to this. I'll figure something out, help you stand on your feet without any trouble, so don't worry about nothing.
He blinked.
— You won't make me do anything?
Gojo looked up innocently.
— Who do you take me for?
— Yourself, — he deadpanned, making Satoru chuckle quietly, — I don't see how you'd just randomly help me without taking anything. That's not even fair. There has to be trade of some sort.
— Well, if you're so insistent on having a trade, then I'll come up with one. As for now, eat. We don't have much time before the evening.
***
Gojo decided to rent a room in a hotel, because leading Yan back to jujutsu high was quite a risky decision.
Yan didn't say anything about separate beds, not really getting what was going on, assuming Satoru just wanted to keep an eye out in case he'll try to escape.
He ended up taking bed at the left, so he could press himself in the corner and cry-
Yan didn't last long when his body hit soft mattress, blacking out right after.
Satoru blinked at him, continuing to dry off his hair with a towel. He flicked the light off, sitting down at the bed to his right, observing Yan's sleeping form.
Gears turned in his head, six eyes fixed on the two different white dots. One almost engulfing his whole body and the other pulsating slolwly right in between the shoulder blades.
Possession? A curse? What was that?
He blinked, focusing on himself, headache slolwly setting in. Satoru sighed, throwing towel on the nearby chair, turning off the lamp on his bedside and laying under the covers.
It's no use to think about this now.
***
Yan stirred somewhere around ten in the morning, frowning at the light and just laying on his back, staring at the ceiling.
His eyes drifted off to the side, seeing Satoru sit behind a desk and writing something with concentrated look on his face.
Yan mentally groaned. It's all real after all.
He sat up, rubbing his face, trying to keep quiet, yet Gojo already perked up, looking at him.
— Good morning, — he sing sang.
Yan yawned, then looked at him.
— Mornin', — he grumbled, scratching at his throat.
— How was your sleep?
— Um... It was fine, — he shrugged, placing his feet on the carpet, — Whatcha doing?
— Just some paperwork, — Satoru propped his head with his palm.
Yan nodded, then stretched, standing up.
— I'm gonna go shower.
— Okay, — Gojo followed him with his eyes before returning to the paperwork. He trailed off, turning off the screen of his phone, shopping list fading away in the blackness.
Satoru finished a recent report, sending it with fax straight to the assistants, not feeling like interacting with them, probably making them a favor without bringing his annoying self to the office.
Megumi sent a dry text, notifying him about successfull mission with Gojo quickly responding, filling text with emoji, as if someone threw them up on the screen.
Yan shuffled out of the shower, wearing dark green sweater and black jeans with his hair tucked under the collar, puffing above it like a little muffin.
— Want me to order to eat something or should we go down to cafeteria for breakfast? — Satoru asked, tilting his head.
— Order, please, if that's okay.
— Sure, — he smiled, quickly calling to reception.
Yan didn't know what to do with himself, so he plopped down on the chair by the table, his eyes trailing off to the books nearby, taking one and flipping through pages filled with japanese writing, full of kanji.
Satoru returned to his work, both immersed in their own thoughts, keeping comfortable silence.
Yan gripped the book, taking a deep breath in. His eye kept twitching for some reason, putting even more highlight to the growing anxiety mixed with all kinds of emotions he could not distinguish at the time and probably wouldn't anyway.
Satoru only glanced at him, waiting for a question or start of the conversation.
Even though he didn't knew Yan, but something had told him that the guy wouldn't just sit by.
Yan put the book back, not being able to read it anyway and stared up outside of the window at the small bits of snow flying around.
He tried to put some things together. Symbols on the crystal, the man in the church, how odd the whole week before that day was...
Someone forced him in here. And he had an idea who.
And just when Yan wanted to speak up, knock followed at their door. Time for a breakfast.
Yan helped Satoru take the papers and stack them nicely, cleaning the table so they could eat in peace.
He struggled with chopsticks, mimicking Satoru's hand placement to hold them better, but food kept slipping off, making the older laugh a bit.
Once Yan got used to them, Satoru poured tea from the small teapot.
— I came up with the trade, — he declared, eyes looking up at teen in front of him.
Yan blinked, feeling discouraged all of a sudden, then straightened his back, putting on a firm expression.
— I'm listening.
Gojo circled his chopsticks around the food.
— I'll provide you with all the necessities and some of the things you ask me for, but, — he pointed at him, — You'll gonna start training.
Yan leaned forward, surprise displaying on his face.
— But... I'm not a sorcerer?
— Doesn't matter. You can be just a window in the future if you will. New people always useful, — he shrugged, — Besides, I've seen your college certificate. Administration and business management, right? You're good with paperwork, that'd be a good job for you.
Yan grunted quietly, leaning back in his chair.
— I guess so.
— So, how's the trade for ya?
He scrunched his nose up, looking away for a second. He knew something like this would happen. It was no surprise, yet something didn't sit right with him.
— You're asking me that as if I have a choice.
— You kinda do, though, — Satoru smiled, — I'll have you train before you can go to jujutsu high, so you won't have any problems with missions. Besides, if you're not a sorcerer, doesn't mean you can't do anything, you still can wield a cursed tool.
Yan nodded, looking back at him.
— If you put it that way, yeah, makes more sense, still...
Gojo stuffed some meatballs in his mouth, looking at him through the eyelashes, seeing him uncomfortably shift in his seat.
"Come on, it's not that hard," Satoru thought, watching Yan mentally debate himself.
Yet, in the end, teen exhaled.
— Trade offer accepted.
Satoru couldn't help but feel disappointed.
— Okay then, — he nodded, returning to his food, — So, I'll have you trained by the professional, taekwondo would do?
— Yeah, — Yan agreed without second thought.
— But I can't shove you straight into jujutsu high dormitories, — Satoru said thoughtfully, moving his chopsticks around, — That'd be against rules-
— You follow rules?
They stared at each other, Yan awkwardly holding his ground before Satoru started laughing.
— Yeah, these particular.
— Ah, I see.
Gojo shook his head.
— So, like I was saying, I can't put you there and I'll doubt you'll be comfortable with strangers around you, so, I guess I'll have you settled in my place then.
Yan sputtered, almost chocking on his noodles. Satoru observed him with a smile, giving him small pats on the back.
— There, there. Breathe.
Yan coughed, drinking some tea.
— Are you sure that's okay? I mean, you don't even know me.
— Then we'll have the chance to bond like this, — Satoru shrugged, — Besides, that'd be easier for me to control your whereabouts and well being. Don't get me wrong, I could've shove you off to some people who owe me, but I don't think you'd appreciate that and, to be fair, I wouldn't, too.
Yan looked up, blinking at him.
"Right," he thought, "Satoru got separated with his parents because of his power, probably to some people he didn't even know."
— Catching up with my train of thought? — Gojo asked, grinning at him.
— Kind of, — Yan scratched behind his neck, having some locks of hair slip out of the grasp from the sweaters collar.
Satoru nodded, leaning back in his seat.
— You may know me because of your... err, world settings, so you're more likely to feel comfortable with me, — he trailed off, — That is if you like me just a little bit. Otherwise, well-, — he laughed awkwardly.
— I assure you, you're alright, — Yan shrugged, looking away.
— Just 'alright'? Man, you hurt my feelings, — Satoru pouted.
Yan grunted, turning his head away. He didn't feel like fangirling at all.
Gojo chuckled.
— That settled, then, — he took his phone and quickly texted to Yaga, — That means we'll have to go shopping! — he hummed excitedly.
— Why? Are these clothes that Ijichi bought me isn't enough?
Satoru looked at him, blinking off a judging stare.
— I won't have you walk around in this insipidity.
— Oh, wow, — Yan chuckled awkwardly.
— Ijichi is good at his job and all, but he does not have taste for fashion. I'm surprised you could make these look good on you, — he squinted.
— I feel like you're just finding another excuse to spend money and drag me around.
Satoru laughed.
— That's a good way to bond, though. Sooner you get used to me, the better it'd be for both of us.
Yan cupped his tea mug, sipping slowly.
— I guess you're right.
Gojo opened a cookie bag.
— Of course I'm right, I'm always right.
***
The whole day Satoru dragged Yan around different places, buying him shoes and clothes, even managed to convince him to trim his hair a little bit to give his haircut a nice shape.
And even though Yan kept complaining about the prices and asked him to go for something cheaper, Satoru didn't want to listen, yet he did, because Yan said he wouldn't wear any of those otherwise.
They ended up carrying four bags back to Gojo's place. Yan wasn't really happy with it, but he didn't complain. A trade was a trade after all.
— You can take whichever room you like, aside from those three, — Satoru pointed at the three bedrooms, leaving two rooms for Yan to choose and before he could ask why, Gojo continued talking.
— This one, — he pointed at the door to his left, — Is my bedroom, room next to it is Megumi's and the next one is Tsumiki's.
Yan blinked.
— They live with you?
— No, but I've gave them some rooms anyway, so they'll be comfortable when they're over at my place.
Yan nodded slowly, shifting awkwardly in the corridor.
— Oh, don't worry, Megumi's been barely here since... — Satoru paused, scratching at his cheek, — Since Tsumiki fell in coma. She's always been one to initiate sleepovers at my place, Megumi barely asked for anything, — he smiled, — I wish they've both being more open, but I guess you can't really do much in their situation, considering the circumstances, though I can't blame them. I was way worse when I was their age. I mean, surely normal fifteen year old doesn't go rampaging around abandoned places-
Yan kept standing there, bags sitting on the floor on both sides of his legs. He listened to him talk, not feeling like interrupting as Gojo actively articulated and moved his hands around.
Once Satoru realized he's been talking about the kids, he blinked and shifted his attention elsewhere.
— But like I was saying, you can take one of those rooms.
Yan nodded, peeking in each room, deciding to choose the smaller one with a big window by the bed.
— You need any help unpacking that? — Gojo leaned against the doorframe as Yan opened the closet.
— No, I'll deal with it myself.
— Okay then. I'll make us some dinner. Shout if you need anything, — Satoru smiled at him before walking off to the kitchen.
Yan sat on the floor, laying his clothes out on the bed and sorting them. Shirts to shirts, pants to pants. From ones that can be worn on the warm weather and to those who only suits for cold.
Every and each was nicely placed on the hanger, creating a disarray of the colors, black, white, blue, purple, yellow, green, stripes, red and lots of gray. Almost all of the clothes oversized, mostly because Yan asked to.
If he's gonna train, then he'll gain some weight, too and just throwing clothes out wasn't an appealing thought to him.
Underwear went in a small box along with socks, tucked away in the corner, surrounded by shoes, mostly containing sneakers, lots of them being converses.
Yan blinked at the containing, knowing that he won't remember what is what an hour after doing this, but he could care less.
His eyes landed on bag full of books, textbooks, notebooks and pens, containing information about japanese language, specifically those Satoru recommended for him hoping it'll help him learn faster.
Yan stood up and started stacking small shelf on the wall next to desk with them, filling up empty space.
For now, it looked a little plain, but soon Yan would make it more comfortable for himself. Couple of drawings here and there, maybe some plushies on the desk, pillow on the windowsill, posters, manga, sun catcher...
Yan ucnrossed his arms, looking around. What has his life become?
Only he started living by himself, getting independence and embracing his femininity, just one day threw a curveball at him, pointing and saying 'ha-ha', just like Nelson from Simpsons.
But the predicament he is in right now is much better than it could've been if, for example, he appeared in the different spot of jujutsu world.
Like Zen'in clan.
Yan shook it off, not even wanting to think about it.
***
Gojo chose taekwondo school for Yan in the middle of the Tokyo, meaning Yan needed to get up every day at seven to be there in time of opening.
Also, with Yan's agreement, Satoru signed him up for Japanese lessons after taekwondo school.
So, Yan now had a busy schedule, but he didn't mind. It was better than to sit around and do nothing, wallow in his thoughts and anxiety.
The other problem Satoru met with is that Yan was technically an illegal immigrant here, so he needed to find a way to legalize his stay in Japan, even if he used not so legal methods. Good thing he had acquaintances everywhere.
Yan, in the meantime, slowly got used to the new environments, having people at taekwondo school come up to him and try to talk in english, which he didn't mind. Though, he didn't plan on having close relationships with anyone as of now. He had some serious matter to attend to first.
Days passed quickly, Yan got more and more accustomed to his schedule, people around him, even tried to speak in japanese a little bit, making his japanese teacher very proud with improvement.
Some days Satoru was absent, going in about his duties, leaving Yan alone at home, knowing the guy would be too bothered to go out without having his documents done. He already had a habit of avoiding police officers, knowing they're most likely to check foreigners.
So, when Satoru did get back, he wasn't surprised to see Yan surrounded by books and notes, some schemes written on the whiteboard he asked Gojo to buy.
What did surprise him is that Yan cleaned the whole place and tried making curry, even though it turned out not the way it should've, Satoru still appreciated the effort.
— Deep in studies?
Yan looked up, round glasses sliding off his nose.
— Ah- yes, I've been studying japanese the whole day. And I actually can read a little bit of newspaper now!
Gojo smiled, sitting himself at the floor beside the teen.
— You're doing well, — he patted his head, — Don't overdo it, though. One step at the time.
Yan nodded, fixing his see-through glasses.
— You're staying in?
— Yeah, I've finished my business, have a little bit of time on my hands.
— Why don't you go sleep then? You barely rest, — Yan looked at him.
Satoru blinked, nudging his blindfold above his eyes.
— I can lose some sleep, no big deal.
— It is a big deal, — Yan insisted, deadpanning, — Your title doesn't make you an alien, you're still human being.
He pouted comically, wondering what it's all was about.
— You're very caring all of a sudden?
— This should go both ways, I just return the favor, — Yan looked away, raising his chin up with a serious look.
Satoru smiled, putting his elbow on his knee and propping his head with his palm.
— You plan on scolding me next?
— I will, if you keep neglecting yourself and- — he paused, getting a whiff, — Oh, damn, where you were at, you stink, man.
Satoru sputtered, letting out a laugh.
— Excuse you! I do not stink!
— Yes, you do! — Yan shifted away, comically waving his hand as if making smell go away, — Like a dumpster with spoiled food!
Gojo's eyes widened, offended.
— Mind you, I do not stink, and I was out on the mission- — he paused, blinking, bringing his hand to his nose. It did stink. It wasn't him, though.
Satoru blinked, then looked at Yan.
— Were you feeling weird lately?
— Huh? What do you mean? — Yan asked, spraying some antiseptic in the air, making Gojo deadpan comically.
— Like... Any changes maybe? Physically? Pains? Nausea?
Yan raised his brows at him, still holding onto his nose.
— Well, yeah, a little bit, but I thought it was just a side effect of me training, — he trailed off, — Come to think of it, my nose been picking up weird smells lately.
Satoru cupped his chin, thinking.
— Okay, wait here, — he got up and disappeared behind the door in the corridor.
Yan raised an eyebrow, spraying some more of antiseptic in the air. It didn't help with the smell, though.
Satoru brought with himself different kinds of objects, them being a shirt, a necklace, a weird-looking box, wrapped in white cloth and a small bottle with something that looked like swamp water.
Yan blinked at him.
— What are these?
— Just trust me on that, — Satoru sat back on the carpet, — Look closely at these objects and tell me how do they smell like.
Yan looked weirdly at him, but complied.
Shirt was Satoru's, no doubt, it even smelled like him.
A necklace, though, had a stench of dead fish on it.
A box left Yan with a fuzzy feeling in his stomach, bordering on nausea. It smelled like a burned decaying body.
And the last one, despite looking like it'd stink the whole house, smelled like daisies and grass.
Satoru noted Yan's observations, teasing him about how in the world he knew how he smelled like, but simultaneously grinning on the inside. It seems, like he was right after all.
— You see, all of these... Have cursed energy on them. This is the smell you picked up on.
Yan stared at him, taking his glasses off and flicking his eyes back to the objects.
— So... I can smell cursed energy?
Satoru nodded, almost excited.
— Yes! — he tapped on his chin, — I wonder if you slowly accustom to this world or if you were able to do this from the start.
Yan shrugged, not having an answer to that, looking back at the objects. The box, wrapped in the white cloth, bothered him.
— Is this Sukuna's finger?
Satoru paused, staring at him for a while.
— It is.
Yan nodded, looking back up.
— Can you get this out of my face?
— Sure, — he scooped the stuff and put them back where they was.
Yan sighed, dragging his hand across his face. He's only week in this world and already met with cursed objects. A good start, innit?
— So, if I can smell it, then that means what exactly?
— That... Depends, — Satoru said, then looked over him, — You know what? Let's try something!
Yan raised an eyebrow, following him with his eyes.
Satoru sat there, just staring at him.
— What-
— Shh!
Yan flicked his eyes away for a second awkwardly, then looked at him, trying to understand what was going on.
Small bits of blue light cleared out from his vision, they enveloped Satoru's figure fully, like a warm glow, matching the color of his eyes.
Yan raised his brows, watching color slolwly getting saturated, like a growing, living mass, circling around his body.
— What do you see? — Satoru asked, placing a notebook in front of him.
Yan reluctantly took a crayon and started drawing, throwing colors at the sheet to explain his vision better. Satoru observed, smiling. He leaned forward, trying to reach for something. Yan didn't notice, finishing up the drawing as Satoru watched the light slowly sticking up to Yan's skin and disappear under the sleeve.
— Something like that, — Yan showed him the drawing, turning it around.
Satoru pretended to inspect it, thinking over what he just saw.
— Yep, you can see cursed energy!
Yan gaped.
— Ehh- Are you sure?
— I am very sure! — he looked up, pointing at him, — You might be a sorcerer.
Yan both wanted to laugh and cry. No way. No way in hell.
— You're messing with me.
Satoru chuckled.
— I'm telling you the truth.
Teen's shoulders slumped, leaning back.
— I'm cooked, — he said with devastation.
— 'Cooked'? Is that a slang, I'm guessing?
Yan groaned, hiding his face behind his hands.
Satoru smiled softly at him, reaching out to pat his back, shuffling to sit close by.
— Hey, it's gonna be okay. I'll be close by, teach you everything you need to know. It might be hard to start, but you'll get the gist of it eventually, you're good at picking up.
— That's not what I'm worried about.
Satoru looked at him, his hand staying on the middle of his back.
— Then what is?
— I won't pass as an assistant anymore, would I?
— That's your decision only, — he shrugged, circling his hand on Yan's back mindlessly, — You can take whichever you'll see suit, I'm in no place to force you.
Yan looked up, tucking long bangs away behind his ear.
Satoru smiled.
— Though, we both know you won't just sit by. You're too stubborn for your own good.
Yan sighed, leaning his head back, bumping shoulders with him.
— Spot on.
Gojo nodded, smiling at him.
— Honestly, I wouldn't mind. I planned on teaching you anyway, — he patted his back, — You'd be a badass sorcerer, I can tell. No match to me, tho.
Yan shook his head, not able to keep his face straight no more.
— Of course.
They laughed a little bit, sitting in the middle of the room, having their shoulders pressed together.
Satoru eyed him carefully. Blue light kept dissipating into Yan's skin.