He goes to the roof at once, but the girl doesn't appear for nearly an hour. By the time she does finally arrive, Naoya is thoroughly frustrated.
"You're late," he says disdainfully, watching her spin around to face him. He's standing above the emergency exit doors, so she's forced to crane her head up to see him.
Up close, she's not particularly interesting. Her hair is untidy and brown. Her cheeks are rounded, unevenly tanned, and the frown she wears seems to make her entire countenance a dour one. Completely ordinary, just like he thought.
"Well," she says in a low, unhappy voice, "What do you want?"
Naoya goes up to the edge of the platform and jumps down, hands still in his pockets. The girl doesn't take her eyes off of him, which means she's at least aware that he's important.
"Are you the sorcerer called Yoshi?" he asks bluntly, eager to get this over with.
She gazes at him with flat black eyes. "I'm not a sorcerer," she answers tonelessly. "But I am called Yoshi." She shoved her hands into the pockets of her windbreaker as an icy gust of air hits the rooftop. "Is this about the New Jersey thing? I don't go past the river."
New Jersey? he wonders. But the more pressing question ought to be asked first. "What do you mean you're not a sorcerer?"
He could feel it, after all. Those that use jujutsu had a certain presence to them, even when not actively fighting.
Her eyes flicker up and down, assessing. "I mean I'm not recognized as a sorcerer, the jujutsu execs don't give me assignments," she says, enunciating slowly. "So I'm not touching the New Jersey mission, it's too far from Manhattan," she concludes.
Is she some kind of idiot? After the stunt she pulled, she thinks he's here for some mission in New Jersey?
"I don't care about New Jersey," he snaps. "If you're not a sorcerer, that means you're a curse-user," Naoya surmises. He's not offended by this. If anything, it's a good sign—it means this girl can be bought for the right price. And if she has a price, he's willing to pay to get some decent use out of her. "If that's the case, then—"
"No," Yoshi shakes her head, shoulders hunched because of the cold air. "Not a curse-user. I don't do bounty work," she dismisses in a clipped tone.
Naoya frowns. "Which is it?" he questions. "You use jujutsu, I can feel traces of it here. Either you're a sorcerer or you're a curse-user."
"Neither," she replies blithely. "Why does it matter to you?"
She's being intentionally difficult. Naoya hisses out a swear word as the wind picks up again, the sound drowned out by gusts of frigid air. By the amused look on Yoshi's face, she noticed it anyway.
The wind dies down, and Naoya brushes his hair out of his eyes. "It matters 'cause a week ago, you bested Gojo Satoru," he hisses. "And I wanna know how ya did it."
Yoshi blinks owlishly, like she isn't quite comprehending his words. The wind has made a mess of her already-tangled hair, and she runs a hand through her bangs to see properly. "A week ago," she repeats pensively. "I was in… Germany, right? You mean the skinny guy with white hair?"
Naoya finds his words faltering in the face of her absolute indifference. "What—are ya livin' under a rock or something?" he demands. "You don't even know who Gojo Satoru is?"
Yoshi raises her eyebrows. "I'm not a sorcerer," she reminds him tonelessly. "Why, who is he?"
Naoya can't hide the disbelief written on his face, because it's clear as day that this girl, whoever she is, hasn't got a clue about what she's done.
It has to be a mistake, he thinks to himself. I'm missing something important here.
But… it doesn't make sense. She knew he was from Japan, because the message she wrote in chalk—it was in kanji, only meant for his eyes. If she hadn't known about Gojo, what did she even think he was here for?
The wind continues, making it difficult to speak, so Naoya steps closer and closer, until only a few feet separate them. Yoshi's face flickers with discomfort as he approaches, but only for a moment. Naoya sees it, though, and thoroughly enjoys knowing that she isn't as aloof as she seems.
"What's your problem?" she asks before Naoya can say anything. "You followed me around all day, what do you want from me?"
"I already told ya what I want," Naoya mutters, keeping his voice low enough that she has to strain to hear it over the wind. "I want to know how you beat Gojo Satoru."
She clicks her tongue and looks away, refusing to meet his eye. "You're not making sense," she scoffs, backing away from him. "I didn't beat anyone. And I don't know who Gojo is."
"I beg to differ," Naoya drawls, feeling the edge of his mouth curl into a half-grin as he closes the distance between them again. He still doesn't know if her technique is worth investigating, but it sure is amusing to watch her squirm. "The rumors are everywhere. Some no-name sorcerer managed to take down the strongest jujutsu sorcerer on a special-grade mission in Germany. It's causin' a real uproar within the order. Makin' them question the shit they let him pull, y'know."
Yoshi levels a cold glare at him, lips pursed. "And he's telling people that I beat him?"
Naoya examines her face closely, curiosity piqued. "Not quite," he concedes. "But he did come back from Germany injured and missin' the cursed object."
Her frown deepens, and Naoya can see the tendons in her jaw flex under her skin.
"I'm dyin' to know," Naoya smirks. "It's not often that Gojo fails so miserably." The last time he failed, it had been at the hands of Naoya's powerless uncle, Toji. But since mastering his reverse cursed technique, no one's beaten Gojo. "What happened in Germany?"
Yoshi's mask of indifference is beginning to fracture, revealing the frustration beneath it. "He nearly killed me," she grits her teeth, "That sorcerer in Germany went after the same curse I was hunting. He knew I was there, and still used his—it was some kind of barrier—" Yoshi pauses, raising her hand and crossing her fingers in a mimicry of Gojo's signature hand sign. "Whatever that's supposed to be. I don't know—"
"His domain expansion," Naoya interrupts sharply, catching her wrist. "He crossed his fingers just like this?"
There's a tattoo on the side of her finger, Naoya notes. A four-lettered word, in English.
OPEN
Yoshi twists her arm and Naoya lets her go. "Don't touch me again," she warns.
"Answer me," Naoya insists, leaning in. "He used Unlimited Void on you? And you lived?"
"No," Yoshi snaps, still inching away from him. "It just dissolved—"
"Dissolved?" Naoya repeats, vexed. "A barrier doesn't dissolve on its own."
Yoshi swears loudly in English and paces away from Naoya, muttering like a loon.
"What are you doing?" Naoya asks angrily, straightening up. "Explain yourself."
"You first! Who are you?!" Yoshi yells back. "And stop interrupting me if you want to know what happened, it's pissing me off!"
"I'm—!" Naoya wavers for only a moment when he remembers that he didn't introduce himself. He's so rarely around people that don't already know him. How could this random girl be powerful enough to hold her own against Gojo Satoru, but not know his name?
Naoya hates this. The more he talks to her, the more questions he's left with. And he's still yet to determine if this is just a massive waste of time or not.
I should just kill her now, he thinks wrathfully. If her technique is as troublesome as the rumors say, then it's better to eliminate her before she can become a problem.
And yet… Naoya's gaze lingers on her. So average, so unsuspecting. If he killed her, he'd never know what really happened between her and Gojo. He'd still be left with his questions, and no way to answer them. Besides, the right technique might make her worth keeping around.
"My name is Zenin Naoya," he says calmly, pressing a hand to his chest. "I'm heir to the Zenin clan."
"Nice to meet you," the girl replies reflexively. She doesn't even attempt to bow. "But that doesn't explain why you came all the way to New York, Zenin-san."
Naoya clears his throat. "I'm thinkin' we got off on the wrong foot, Yoshi-san." She immediately looks suspicious now that he's speaking politely. "Gojo Satoru is well-known as the strongest sorcerer in the world, seein' as he's the only person born in a hundred years with both the Six Eyes and Limitless techniques. That gives him a downright ridiculous amount o' power in the jujutsu world, Yoshi-san, an' his status as the greatest has yet t'be contradicted—until you came along an' stirred up trouble."
She remains quiet this time, finally listening to him the way Naoya wanted. Pleased by this, he continues. "The Gojo clan has been at the top of the food-chain ever since Satoru was born, but it's only him holdin' onto that seat. If he weren't really the strongest, the balance would shift considerably."
Yoshi dips her head in a slow, thoughtful nod. "A power struggle between clans," she deapans. "That's no surprise." She drops her hands out of her pockets, scratching her cheek as she thinks. "But if I were a threat to your hierarchy, Gojo would've come after me."
Naoya cocks his head. So now she's showing a bit of sense. "Is that so?"
"Well…" Her hand slides from her cheek to her neck, rubbing the junction at her shoulder. There's a dark mark along her nape, a curved line of black. Naoya thinks it might be another tattoo. How strange. Within the jujutsu world, tattoos weren't a sign of association to the yakuza, but to curses. A curse's vessel was often marred by deep black tattoos, distorting their original form. Some innate techniques manifested with black marks as well, like the Inumaki seal. It was a sign of power as much as it was an omen of danger.
"First of all, I didn't beat Gojo," Yoshi says, oblivious to Naoya's growing suspicions. "I didn't leave him for dead or anything like that." Yoshi watches him with dark, hooded eyes. "He nearly killed me with his Unlimited Void. I was angry, but I had every right to knock him out, which I did."
His thoughts come to a grinding halt. "You… what?" Naoya repeats, puzzled.
"I punched him," Yoshi affirms, holding up her index finger as if to emphasize that she only hit him once. That tattoo is visible, but only as a faint smudge of black along her hand. "He thought I was joking, but I wasn't. I thought he would dodge, and he didn't. We didn't fight, but we both made a mistake."
"Gojo never turns off Infinity," Naoya shakes his head, doubtful. "It's impossible to strike him dead-on, you'll just hit the infinity between you and him."
The girl hums tunelessly, shaking her head. "Look, I'm fluent, but Japanese isn't my main language. There wasn't anything between us. I hit him in the jaw."
"He turned off Infinity so you could punch him in the face," Naoya frowns. "That doesn't make sense. He would never do that."
Yoshi crosses her arms. "What's Infinity? Is that a technique?"
"Yes, it's a technique!" Naoya snarls at her. "What kinda simpleton don't even know that? It's part o' Limitless, it makes him impossible ta touch. How'd ya break through it?"
Yoshi frowns. "I didn't."
"You must've been using your own technique," he ruminates, eyeing her skeptically. "Do you even know what cursed techniques are?"
She looks annoyed now. "Of course."
"Good. Tell me about yours," he commands.
Her eyebrows shoot up. "Excuse me?"
His patience has run out. "Tell me your technique," Naoya repeats, letting his feet slide apart into a fighting stance. "Or I'll just have ya show it t'me."