Satoru Gojo crouched on the grass, taking the final bites into his melon pan. He observed Reimu working on the barriers within the school's old warehouse. The interplay of her energy mixing and willing the geometry of the warehouse to obey her was fascinating. He had known and studied barrier techniques as part of his early education, but creating simple domains and veils couldn't compare to Reimu's innate technique. A labyrinth of doors and corridors were not simply concealed but purified and fortified. Upgrading the warehouse was a costly endeavour that required constant effort from teams of sorcerers over several months. Naturally, the higher-ups kept kicking that particular can down the road since the return on investment seemed relatively minimal. There was always something more important that needed money, and Jujutsu sorcerers were constantly needed elsewhere. It didn't help that cash was tight, as it were, what with the increase in powerful curse spirits. The ripples of Gojo Satoru's birth. It was thanks to Reimu and her mother that the warehouse issue had been solved so neatly, removing that particular thorn from Jujutsu HQ's mind with ease. And here was Reimu in her lonesome, two years younger than Satoru, making sure the warehouse was still robust. Satoru nodded to himself; even with all the tools one could learn to master barriers, nothing beats in-born talent. Not in the Jujutsu world, at least. She was a prodigy, like him. Maybe not as strong as him, but still, she was impressive.

But unlike Satoru, the child in front of him seemed barely human. Her eyes were glazed over, her movements impossibly elegant. She seemed phantasmagorical, an ephemeral dream that could disappear in a blink. So, Satoru kept staring. Unblinkingly. For most, this would be a creepy display from a child. But Reimu, the unwilling subject of Satoru's gaze, didn't appear to acknowledge him; whether she was ignoring him or didn't register his presence, he wasn't sure. What Satoru was sure of was that this Reimu was worlds away from the little toddler he'd first seen years ago. Satoru wondered what happened to the Reimu who looked at the world with wide-eyed wonder. The Reimu who'd reach out and grasp. He wasn't sure why that short meeting stuck with him even now. Back home, he was surrounded by reverent adults and intimidated clan mates. Satoru Gojo was an idol to be worshipped within the Gojo clan, as he should be, considering his potential. But seeing genuine curiosity in someone's eyes that were untainted by the baggage of his reputation was something profoundly new, however short-lived it may be. Now she was right in front of him, but all he saw was the stain of malevolent energy that stuck to her like a bad smell and the lack of smiles. Satoru assumed it had to do with Reimu's mom dying. That's probably why she wasn't here with her daughter. Dead moms were usually a downer, so he didn't blame Reimu for her distance, not that he'd know anything about it; his mom was still alive and kicking.

"Oi, where's your mom?" Satoru called out to the girl. Reimu stopped whatever ritual she was doing to look back, and the blank stare she'd give Satoru unnerved him, "are you sad?" he asked. The eleven-year-old Gojo prodigy didn't know how to phrase it best, but he missed seeing the little kid who smiled at him once. "You should stop being sad," he said, with as much emotional sensitivity as he could muster.

"Huh?" Reimu replied, mouth agape with confused annoyance. Satoru didn't know what to expect, but her voice sounded more normal than he'd thought. The pitch wasn't too high or too low, scratchy or gravelly, or even angelic. It was hard to describe, but based on her powers, he thought she'd grow into sounding more..cooler. "Who're you calling sad? You picking a fight?" She looked at Satoru with eyes that regarded him as a low-level mob.

"Huh?!" However Satoru thought she'd respond; he hadn't expected this. "Who said anything about fighting?" Satoru Gojo scratched his head, trying to trace Reimu's logic. Years of wondering about that daughter of a shrine maiden didn't prepare him for this. Whatever fanciful delusions Satoru had of Reimu were shattered then and there. Did her mother's death turn her into a simple battle junkie?

"—Junkie! I know that word. That floating eye-hole told me about it." Oh shit, he said it out loud. "So you really do want to pick a fight!"

"What, no!?" Satoru shot back. He'd wanted to salvage the situation, de-escalate. But a part of him couldn't let Reimu's needling go unanswered, "I'd obviously win. And then I have to console you when you lose. That's so much work! I don't know how to handle crying children."

Reimu pointed a small gohei in Satoru's direction; it was half her height, "You don't look that much older than me! And what makes you think I'll cry if I lose?"

"Cause you're sad!" Of all the things Satoru could have said, this was what set Reimu into a frenzied rage. At least as much rage as a child barely surpassing four-foot-one could show. As the words left Satoru Gojo's mouth, a yin-yang orb flew at him. He dodged it, of course, and shot out a small speck of Blue onto her. It was another expression of Limitless, akin to a black hole; it sucked everything into its centre of gravity. The bright projectile grazed her, barely millimetres from her skin, but Reimu wasn't pulled in by it. Did the laws of physics not apply to her?

"Oomph!"

"Shit!"

Both Reimu and Satoru turned back to see two sorcerers knocked out by their respective projectiles. That put a stop to their fight as the two scanned the forest only to sense multiple flickers of cursed energy surrounding them, observing them. Satoru and Reimu shuffled away from the sorcerer-infested trees until they stood back-to-back. Or at least, as back-to-back as Infinity would allow. It seemed that bypassing Satoru's infinite distance required some conscious effort on her part, Satoru assumed. That lined up well with his short memory of her.

"Are these your friends?" Reimu asked. Her tone was sharp, but it held an undertone of calculated bloodlust. Just what the hell had happened to Reimu over the years? She seemed more of a proper Jujutsu Sorcerer than some of the adults in the Gojo clan.

"No, they're yours. Technically, they're working for the people who hired you," Satoru answered. Reimu turned towards Satoru, eyes wide with panic. Some deep part of the Gojo clan's heir was glad that there was still some childish exuberance to Reimu and that she wasn't just a cold killing machine. Though at the same time, Satoru couldn't help but feel disappointed as Reimu's badass aura shattered in a blink.

"Huh, really?! You're lying. You're totally lying right, right!?" Reimu half-accused. Before Satoru could say anything, the Shrine Maiden groaned, "Ahhhhhhh, you aren't!" She patted her stomach as if she likened it to a sad dog, "Looks like it'll be rice and tea for a week."

"You can't be that poor. You're too strong to be poor!" Gojo said. In his mind, the strong were taken care of by the weak. Things like food and money were always readily provided, making such concerns non-existent. Granted, it was a belief coloured by his life in the Gojo clan. However, he had assumed such things applied to every sorcerer clan.

"Most of my money comes from donations!" Reimu whined, "And even then, it's not enough, so I have to come out and fix other people's barriers instead!"

Satoru scrunched his eyebrows, confused. Jujutsu sorcerers, even the young clanless ones, are usually taken care of with government money. Though it's a fact that some do slip from the cracks, a sorcerer like Reimu should not be having money issues at all. Hell, money should be the furthest thing from her mind right now. "Couldn't you just demand food? Like, in exchange for your protection."

"What?!" Reimu gasped, scandalised. "I can't do that. I'm the Hakurei Shrine Maiden!" Satoru mentally bookmarked the title in his brain, promising to investigate the Gojo clan archives for it. "This is serious. How do I stop them?"

Satoru agreed that the situation was serious. If it weren't resolved, it'd lead to an hour of scolding from his mother. "The best thing to do while you're at the scene of the crime," Satoru's eyes peered deep into Reimu's. He grabbed the shrine maiden's arm, a playful smile on his lips, "is to leave it." The distance between him and the ground became infinite, and Satoru Gojo flew to the sky with Reimu in tow. The clouds parted at his approach as the sun greeted him like the messiah he was. The clear blue sky was his crown, and his birth was his coronation.

The act itself would've made him feel really cool if it weren't for the fact that Reimu smacked him in the head, shouting, "I can fly just fine!"