Warning: Again this is a reminder, that this will be childhood to adulthood romance, so if you don't like don't read it. And things will change in their relationship as more chapters arrive. Satoru is 8 and Getou is 14 at the beginning of the story.
Prologue
The Arrival Of The Blue-Eyed Demon
He was born a crime, and being associated with him meant death. Hence, I understood why my father arrived at that late evening with him at my doorstep. Understanding didn't ease the shock of their arrival, but I chose to express it as a surprise, with exaggeratedly large eyes. He, whose name I still didn't know, stood behind my father in clothes too big for him, and little hands lost under the frills of his dirty sleeves.
"Is he a Gojo?"
"What a ridiculous question, son."
"My apologies, Father. Were we not ordered by Zenin and Kamo to eradicate the entire bloodline?" Were we, a minor provincial sorcerer family, allowed to show mercy? Did my father suddenly have an awakening in his consciousness? I don't think so. I looked at the little boy again; he was not afraid; he was the opposite. There was no sadness or fear on the little face of someone whose entire family was on the brink of destruction.
"This runt here is an insurance against any future threat." My father gently cupped the tuft of pristine white hair on the child. I wanted to scream at him, Don't hurt him, but I couldn't; I was not powerful enough yet to defy the head of the Getou Family. Then he grabbed his hair and pulled the child inside the manor. Yet the boy didn't blink or flinch. "This one is a bastard of the Gojo family, a spare heir just like you." My father threw him inside. I wanted to catch him, but I feared the worst fate would befall him if I showed him kindness now.
Forgive me boy I muttered inside my head.
So I let him fall.
"Do you intend to raise him in secrecy?" I looked at him from the corner of my eyes; he stood up and stared at my father and me. "He is the most Gojo of all the Gojos we have ever met." The Gojo family was known for their unique bloodline traits; either they were born with sapphire blue eyes, snow-white hair, or immense cursed strength that would alter the course of magic flow in the world. The child had the eyes and the hair, and if the gods gave him the mysterious six-eyes curse power, he would be unstoppable. Whatever my father's plan was, it would fail; he was not an insurance; we were the temporary home of cats for a panther cub. Was I going to tell my father this? No. I was weak.
"Raise him? Son." My father took two steps towards me, and I took steps behind. His hands clawed into my collarbones. "Think of the runt as a toy, use him however you may. But make sure he stays alive."
"Father, this is a huge responsibility; why are you entrusting him to me? Shouldn't my brothers or sisters be better at this job; they have superior powers." I knew the answer, but I wanted the child to know what situation he was in. "You have limited use of my magic; how can I protect him?"
"Who asked you to protect him?"
"Didn't you—"
"Son, keep him alive. I don't care how you do it. If he grows up to inherit the mysterious six-eyes, we will kill him, and you can devour it." I hope the boy heard it. "And if he doesn't, once he is mature enough to father children, we can sell him to the Zenin or the Kamo, who want to merge the bloodline to get his powers." Either way, the boy was screwed. "How old is he?"
"You think I had time to ask him what his age was when I was hunting his family?" Every cell in my body was telling me this was going to end in disaster. If you had taken the task to kill everyone, you should've stuck to the plan. "Treat him like a slave. Once he is sixteen, I will make sure he is out of your sight and home." My home? This was my prison; my chances of making it into adulthood now lay on this boy. "Ten years, you can give me ten years of your life, right, son?" So the child was six.
"Yes, Father."
"I will stay with your mother this week; I bet she missed me dearly. Should I give you a sibling?"
"You want my unborn siblings to grow with him? What if he bullies the infant; they won't be able to talk." My father declawed my collarbones and looked at me, unsure of what my words meant. "But if you are serious, I would love to have little sisters." I smiled. Again I quickly glanced at the little boy. He stood on his ground as if he were built there like a pillar, brick by brick.
"Little sister?"
"Yes."
"Where is your mother?"
"In her study."
"Your mother can read?"
"She likes being in the study because it reminds her of you." It was a lie; my mother grieved her life there. The opportunities and dreams she was denied because she was born without any powers or abilities to wield curse energy. And she cursed the beauty she was given, which drew you to her like an insect to a nectarine flower. You drank away her youth and confined her to this beautiful prison. "You were gone for months; she even wrote you letters."
"Your mother can write too? Why is this all news to me, son?" My father cupped my face. "Did you teach her? Or was it the tutor, I sent you crawling to her chamber because I was not there to warm her bed?"
"Father, please. Don't insult my mother."
"Of course. Of course. I shall grant you the wish of a sister and stay for a month here." I wish he was gone at this very moment.
"What about him? Where will he stay?" My father dropped his hands and walked towards the little boy and grabbed him by the hair again. My heart sank at the sight of his unruly long hair being grabbed so mercilessly; I knew the pain he felt. That's why I stopped growing my hair.
"Why are you worrying about a slave? You can't be strong without trampling on the weak. Don't embarrass the Getou family."
"You asked me to keep him alive, didn't you? I am covering all grounds."
"Elaborate?"
"The boy is too young, and the sentiments of anger against the Gojo family are high. So what if the servants hurt him? People from the village are always visiting our manor; what if someone spots him? And reports to the families? Not only Mother and I will die, but the entire Getou family will meet a fate worse than his family did."
"What do you suggest?"
"Let the boy be with me in our old manor until I am sure he talks and defends himself."
"You want to move into the other side of the estate?"
"Safety measures? It was built to overlook the village, with a natural fortress of mountains behind and a stream cutting it off from the other side."
"And what if he awakens his powers and kills you?"
"Can he? Without any books? Without any rituals? Without any help? Without any tools? The six-eyes have not manifested in three hundred years. And you think a bastard child can have powers? Look at me, a child of an ordinary human and a great sorcerer like you can eat curses."
"When did you mature, child? How old are you this year?"
"I will be fourteen soon."
"Son, it's a shame your mind is so sharp, yet you were born with these powers. Well, have it your way. You can move there. You can keep the runt in your room for tonight. I will ask the staff in my entourage to prepare the manor."
"Thank you, Father."
My father dropped his hand, let the boy go, and wiped his hand with a handkerchief, as if the boy was plagued by disease. "Now where is my dear fourth wife?"
"In the study."
"In the study…"
Once my father was out of sight, I let my breath go. My knees almost gave up, but I didn't let myself collapse. I turned around and looked at the boy, he was standing there just like how my father had left him; I took his hand and ran up the stairs to my room. After shutting the door. I fell on my knees and grabbed him by the shoulders.
"You can't let anyone find out you are here."
"Why?"
"You can talk?" He nodded. "You heard what the man said." The cloud-like head nodded. "He may not be the strongest sorcerer in the world, but he is the best businessman in the sorcery society. To him, you are a commodity to him; if you become a liability, he will kill you."
"Like my family?" The reply was too casual. Then again, no child of sorcerer society was normal. We were all broken vessels to power forced upon us.
"Yes."
"Are you a commodity too?"
"No, my fate is worse." I sighed. "Anyway, can you bathe?" He nodded. "Then let's get you cleaned."
Without batting an eyelid, he replied, "Slaves are allowed to bathe?" For a six-year-old, his sarcasm was too unnerving for me.
"You are not a slave. You are a prisoner, just like Mother and me."
"What's the difference?"
"A poor slave can dream of freedom still; you and I can only dream of surviving from one day to another."
"What is your name, fellow prisoner?"
"Getou Suguru, the nineteenth bastard son of my father's family. What is yours?"
"Don't have one."
"Are you sure?" He nodded. I didn't want to drag it further. "Okay, we think of the name issue later, right? Before you bathe, let's get this hair fixed." Again, I guided him to the washing and cleaning area that was kindly built for me a few years back. "Take these dirty clothes off." He did as I told him. While he stripped, I looked for scissors.
"Should I burn the clothes? I know how to wield fire, a bit."
"No, I will ge—" I should've been prepared, yet the yellow-blue-purple marks on his pale malnourished body were enough to explain why it was not reacting to my father's cruelty. After gulping air, I asked, "Was it my father?"
"No."
"Your family?"
"Caretakers of my family."
"Did they try to awaken your powers?" Another nod. "I cannot guarantee you that my father wouldn't pull similar stunts. But for now, you are safe. Come here," I pulled the boy and began trimming his matted white hair. He must have been on the run for a long time. Quietly I worked on his looks, and he stood there patiently. More than once my eyes fell on his bruises. If I let him go now and if he survives, he would come back for revenge; it was the nature of hurting and lonely humans to seek solace in violence and blood. If I kept him, there was a slim chance of my mother and I coming out unscathed from the future Clash of Clans. Right now, the Getou Family is still seen as a provincial family, but my father was working hard to change the status quo, and so were the Inumaki family and the Fujiwara family. "If I give you a chance to run away? Will you grow up to seek revenge?"
"I want to stay here."
"Why?"
"You asked me for my name."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"Then be a good boy, clean yourself, wash your hair and get into clothes I give you to wear, and try to stay away from my father's sight for an entire month, can you do it?"
"Like hide and seek?"
"You know how to play hide and seek?"
"I was not permitted to play."
"I will teach you. Now go bathe." I pushed him inside the washing area and closed the door. I collected his dirty clothes and hair and dumped them into the fireplace. Not only that, but I didn't want to use magic to get rid of them because Zenins were good at monitoring even the slightest use of fire magic. Being the son of a non-sorcerer helped me keep my mind sane. I burned everything. Then I looked for my old clothes and placed them outside. Keeping him alive was going to be a battle.
All of a sudden, exhaustion caused by fear hit me. My father was overwhelming. I undressed, changed into my night clothes, and climbed into my bed. The bruises on the child's body were bothering me. I climbed out and looked for ointments and potions I used frequently until a few years back; once my father got his fifth wife, his visits reduced, and the bruises on my body reduced too. I found them in no time and placed them beside the clothes. Then I recalled that the child had not eaten either.
I tiptoed to the kitchen, grabbed water my hands could lay on, and returned. The child was still bathing. My logical brain told me to check up on him because what if he climbed out of the window? Yet my heart told me he was not going to leave. I placed the food on the side table and climbed into my bed.
Sleep was slowly creeping up on me; then the creaking bed noises began to haunt the entire manor. The bed was three storeys above me, and it shouldn't have made the noise. My father was deliberately making me hear this; did he use a talisman to amplify the noise? The creaking of the bed churned my belly. So I pulled a pillow to hide my ears and shut my eyes.
When I woke up, my first thought was, where is he? I fell asleep without any intention, how could I be so callous, was my second thought. I had woken up just in the time of daybreak. My body didn't want to leave the comforts of the bed, but I had to look for him. Then I felt someone was hugging my waist. I looked and looked. He was clean, his hair was shining like the moon and smelled clean. I patted his head. Then I saw the empty plates, so he ate it all and decided to climb the bed. In the end, was from an elite house that was one of the richest clans in the country. He might have seen harsh days of abuse, but a warm bed was a common item to him as well, just like me.
"Thank you for helping me." The tiny hands squeezed me.
"You are awake."
Instead of replying, he opened his eyes and stared at me, and the first rays of sun hit his sapphire eyes, and they glistened. Like two freshly polished gems, they sat in his socket; if he was born with the ability of six-eyes, he could see everything. But right now, only one word occupied my brain; daybreak. He was a child; he was like the sun; he had a future ahead of him, and none had the right to hurt him.
"Your eyes are pretty and scary, I ruffled his hair. " That made him grin brightly like a boy his age should. I don't know what lay ahead for us. I pulled him closer and hugged him. But I wanted to see his future; he was just at the beginning of this life.
"I can't breathe…"
"You have to live well, Satoru*…"
TBC
Notes:
*Satoru: has many meanings, enlightenment, wisdom, to know, here Geto names him after this Kanji 暁, which means, "Daybreak"
P.S: This author thrives on comments, reviews, follows, favourites, kudos, and words of affirmation. I have been shipping, these idiots for years now, but I guess watching them in anime finally made me think of various scenarios where Gojo is the guard dog and Getou is the cinnamon roll. At the moment I don't know which characters will be part of the story, for now, this is the beginning, of how Getou found young Gojo in his home.
Let's see what my brain cooks! I have an idea of what I want, so I know the ending I am going to give you all.
At the moment, I also don't know if I will make Kenjaku father of Getou here or not, hence I have not mentioned the names of Getou's parents and left them as mother and father. I am open to suggestions on who can be Getou's father here. For now, Suguru is 14 and Gojo is 6
And you can tell me which characters you want to see in this fic, as I am still undecided about who I should bring in.