Protection details are light work—usually. Gojo hasn't failed a mission since the Star Plasma fiasco in high school, and even that had been an extraordinary circumstance. It is rare that one crosses his desk, requiring at most a first grade sorcerer for success, so when the Higher Ups call him directly to assign him to protect another sorcerer—a foreigner, no less—he gets curious. And when Gojo gets curious, he starts investigating.
The dossier alone was enough to spark his interest, from the woman's name to the information about her background. An entire clan of sorcerers living abroad! It is one of the rare instances of sorcerers being born outside Japan, and he wonders if even that is more xenophobic mythos perpetuated by the conservatives pulling the strings in the jujutsu world. Not only is the woman he's to protect from a sorcerer clan—and a powerful one at that—she is essentially royalty.
What intrigues him is that she was married to a non-sorcerer. Some nobody named Jin Hayashi. He was killed in a car accident a year prior, and since then his widow, Asabé Hayashi, has been living in seclusion in a modest house in the suburbs. He's even more surprised that she is not far from the school…and that he has not once sensed her cursed energy.
He learns why when she arrives at Jujutsu Tech for the first time.
After his meeting and acceptance of the mission, Gojo finds her in his office, and for a moment he watches her. Her back is to him, and the first thing he notes is how…delicate she looks. He catches a glimpse of her profile: burnished sienna skin, a sculpted nose, and full lips. Her eyes are the color of honey, and her lashes are black and full, curling on her cheek like the crests of waves.
"Do you mean to stare at me all morning?" Her voice is soft but sultry, like smoke or fog flowing over the serene architecture of a zen garden. Gojo watches her through his blindfold a while longer, his smile unwavering, although it curls a little more at her words. He comes in, shutting the door behind him.
"It's an old habit," he says without missing a beat. "I like to read the room before entering. Kind of an essential skill in my line of work."
Asabé does not smile, even as Gojo comes around to sit at his desk, and he gets a good look at her. If he wasn't staring before, he's staring now.
Asabé Hayashi is one of the most beautiful women he has ever seen. Even to say it does not do her justice. She is striking, and he finds himself ignoring the usual analysis of his Six Eyes in favor of just looking at her. The woman is a fucking knockout and he's seen her dead husband. Gojo is wondering how a plain nobody like Jin Hayashi won the hand of foreign royalty. He's also wondering how long it'll take him to talk this woman into—
"You are Satoru Gojo, I presume," she says. "I was told that you could help me with my problem."
"That's what they tell me," Gojo says, trying not to sound breathless. God she's incredible. Her face alone is a work of art. He wants to trace those perfect brows with his thumb, those high cheekbones, and that mouth.
"So," he says, even as part of his thoughts turn decidedly not wholesome or businesslike. "Assassins! Sounds exciting. But I've a few questions of my own before we continue. My bosses were a little vague on the details so you'll forgive me if this sounds redundant." He doesn't sound the least bit regretful but she looks at him, impassive, gesturing for him to continue.
"You're a sorceress," he says, watches her stiffen a little at the simple statement. Very interesting. "And from my understanding, you have a powerful inherited technique, and a powerful sorcerer clan. Why not go to them for protection? And what is stopping you from protecting yourself?"
Asabé's beautiful mouth thins into a grim line.
"Gojo, my family is the one sending their enforcers after me," she says and his brows go up in mild surprise. "And as for why I cannot protect myself…it is because of a binding vow."
Gojo nods, understanding.
"Does this vow forbid you from using your technique?"
"Only against my family," Asabé explains. "A long time ago, my clan was nearly wiped out because of vicious infighting. As a way to prevent this from happening in the future, my ancestors made a binding vow forbidding their descendants from ever turning our gifts against one another. As you can expect, it has led to some very creative ways for more ambitious members of the clan to rise in the ranks."
Gojo snorts. "I wouldn't know, but I'll take your word for it. So, you've got a family who wants to kill you, but why? Your technique is valuable, why lose it by killing you?"
Asabé blinks, visibly confused. Then, she gasps.
"Ah, I see, it must have been lost in translation. No, they are not trying to kill me. They are trying to drag me back home."
And all at once, Gojo understands.
"You're hiding from them."
Asabé says nothing, but he sees the tension in her jaw, the hard swallow in her throat, and the way her honey-hued eyes harden in cold fury.
"Yes," she admits, and he can see how it nettles and stings her pride to do so. "It is why I have sealed my cursed energy to make it more difficult for them to locate me. But…living in Japan, I still stand out, as you can see."
Gojo laughs. "Miss Hayashi did you just make a joke? I do believe the ice is finally beginning to thaw!"
"Gojo…" she says, and her voice sounds like a purr and a growl all at once. He takes a moment to try not thinking about how that voice would sound panting and moaning in his ear, saying things so obscene it would make the devil himself blush with shame. He really needs to get laid soon, but since seeing her he's been thinking about it. God she's fucking gorgeous.
She clears her throat, rather conspicuously.
"In any case," she continues, "it's simply more prudent to tap in with a community that can offer me protection. It's not like I can go to the police about this kind of thing."
Gojo knows all about demanding families. Not that his is very demanding—he does as he pleases, but he also knows what's expected of him. No, he suspects Asabé's family is not unlike the Zenin clan. For that alone, he spares her some pity. He can't imagine being seen as nothing but a potential brood mare for more heirs. No wonder she ran off to marry a nobody. Probably vastly preferable to being sequestered away to pop out babies.
"Well, we have a few options," Gojo says. "We can keep you here, at Jujutsu Tech. Tengen's barriers are ancient and powerful, and we've vast resources if you want to study, meditate, whatever you want to do to pass the time. You also wouldn't be required to seal yourself. But, you would be required to stay on the grounds in order to remain protected. I also won't always be here to keep an eye on you, which I'm sure is counterintuitive to your request."
Asabé's brow furrows as she considers his words. Gojo waits patiently, studying how her blood races in her veins, her pulse quickens, her heart rate rises. She's running through all the scenarios in her head, he can feel that much. He knows without having to ask that she's afraid to remove the seal and reveal herself, but he's so perishingly curious about how powerful she actually is. Part of him really wants to know if this woman's ability is worth his protection.
Asabé's gaze clears as she blinks, having weighed that option. He can already tell she doesn't want to be confined to the campus. He doesn't blame her. As secluded and protected as this place is, it has been breached many times before by highly skilled sorcerers. He has no idea what enforcers her family has at their disposal, but if they're on equal footing with his family's wealth and influence, he suspects curse users will be making their way here in no time. And he's not always on the campus grounds.
He briefly remembers Riko, and his smile almost fades.
"What's the other option?" Asabé asks, breaking the silence. Gojo sits back in his chair.
"Well, the other option is you would be staying with me." He tries not to look smug but the thought of this lovely creature walking around his home is…tempting. The circumstances being what they are, he can hardly be blamed for being a tad excited, right?
Asabé's eyes go wide.
"Is…" Her voice wavers a little. "Is that appropriate?"
Gojo turns out his hands in a shrug. "Does it matter? I've got a spare bedroom if you're worried. And I can guarantee your safety more that way. Trust me, there's nowhere safer in this whole country save for Hokkaido."
Asabé considers it. She has no intention of freezing her ass off in Hokkaido for the rest of her life. She frowns again, clearly not liking the idea of being roommates with the man who is essentially her bodyguard for the duration of her ordeal. Her gaze slides away, and she bites her lip. Gojo has a brief image of her doing that with his mouth on her throat.
He really needs to get laid. Fuck.
"Fine," she says, terse and exasperated. "Do I have to wear the seal there too?"
Gojo shrugs. "You don't. But if it makes you feel better you can keep it on. I have to admit I am curious about your technique, though."
Asabé's cheeks go warm and she looks away again.
"It's not relevant to your mission, and I try not to use it if I don't have to."
"Your choice," Gojo says nonchalantly. "So, shall I send someone to pick up whatever you need and have it brought over, or are you averse to that too?"
Asabé frowns again, glaring at him.
"I am not going to risk revealing myself if I don't have to, Gojo," she says sternly. "But yes: I would appreciate having my things brought to your…residence. Will I be confined there or am I allowed to come and go?"
"How about we cross that bridge when we come to it?" Gojo suggests. "And trust me: it won't feel at all like house arrest once you're there. I've been told I'm pretty entertaining to be around."
Asabé stares at him, clearly unamused. Gojo lets out a little scoff. Sheesh. Tough crowd.
When Asabé first meets Gojo her initial thought is that this lanky, arrogant, nonchalant idiot cannot possibly protect her. However, his cursed energy speaks volumes and then some. She felt him behind her before she deigned to turn her head and get a glimpse of him. And she is pretty sure that blindfold does absolutely nothing to hinder his sight. She wagers he's got better eyesight than a fucking owl.
And even his eyes could not discern her technique, meaning the seal she has placed on herself is working.
After her meeting with Gojo, he makes a few calls, getting his staff on the job of moving her into the guest bedroom of his penthouse apartment overlooking the sprawl of the Tokyo metropolis from the safety of a quiet building nestled in the hills of the city's outer limits. Asabé gets her first glimpse of the building during the drive: a sleek and modern high-rise of highly reflective glass. It's the kind of place one imagines their future dark romance novel hero resides.
In other words: it's exactly how she imagined Gojo's choice of residence would be.
They enter the building together, greeted by a vigilant doorman who bows low to Gojo, holding the door open for both of them. Asabé ignores how the doorman looks askance at her out the corner of his eye, and she makes sure to give him her most impervious and imperious stare as the elevator doors close. She feels grim satisfaction as her withering look makes the doorman avert his gaze quickly and guiltily.
The ascent is a silent one, broken only by Gojo unwrapping Jolly Ranchers to suck on. Out of the corner of her eye, she studies him. His skin is like alabaster, his hair as pale as starlight, but he keeps that damnable blindfold on so she can't see his eyes. She wonders briefly if his eyes are sensitive to light. Back in her homeland, it is not uncommon for powerful sorcerers to develop physical ailments, especially considering how a lot of sorcerers suffer from brain damage when overusing techniques.
Still, for as silly as his blindfold looks to her, she has no doubt he can see quite clearly.
"Now who's staring, hm?" Gojo says slyly, his smile becoming a smirk. Asabé's cheeks go hot and she wishes she wore her sunglasses so she could stare in peace. Even then, she's sure Gojo's senses are superhuman.
"I was just…" She struggles to find words because there are none to say. She was staring, even out of her peripheral vision, she was marveling. She's heard of Gojo's good looks, as well as the reputation those looks entail. And now she's exiting an elevator into his penthouse. Once they cross the threshold, she feels nervous, as if she doesn't belong here.
Everything about Gojo's apartment is sleek and modern, although there are trappings of tradition amidst the decor, and she can feel something inside her dim and muted as she crosses the threshold. She hesitates. Gojo looks over his shoulder.
"You can remove your seal if you like," he says casually, "this place is highly secure against cursed intrusions. It's also insulated in case I have to get a little crazy. Can't destroy the place in a fit of pique."
Asabé's hand goes to her chest, and Gojo can see the seal nestled there beneath her clothes. A necklace? How simple…and curious. As they remove their shoes, he leads her through the kitchen, giving her the grand tour. It is extremely rare that he brings anyone to his personal home, even rarer that he brings them to the ancestral Gojo estate. Still, he doubts her intentions are to bring him harm. She seems skittish, her eyes seeming to be expecting attackers to jump out from behind the next corner.
"And here's you," Gojo says, leading her to the guest bedroom. Asabé peers inside. It's lavish in comparison to say, a hotel or motel, but it is no less than what she expects from a man like Gojo. The bed is large, facing a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook a sprawling green space and beyond the carpet of lights that is Tokyo proper, and there's even a walk-in closet. She smiles, seeing that her things have already been dropped off for her to unpack at her leisure.
"My room is down the hall," Gojo explains. "I'm here when I'm not working or teaching, and since you are the job, looks like I get to be home way more often than usual. Help yourself to the kitchen—I don't cook much, but if there's anything you need please let the concierge know. Groceries get delivered so there's no need for you to risk going out on your own, and the housekeepers are here once a week to clean. Not much, but it keeps me from getting lost in the clutter of the day to day. Pretty sweet, right?"
Asabé smiles. "Thank you, Gojo," she says with a respectful bow. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate your assistance. I'll try not to get underfoot."
Gojo grins. He's not worried about her getting underfoot but the way she looks right now he wants her to get under him somehow.
"Let me not keep you," he says. "Make yourself at home and we can go over your situation in more detail, hm? Maybe order some Thai food. You like Thai food?"
Asabé smiles, almost shyly. "Thai sounds wonderful. I'll unpack and freshen up. And again: thank you."
As Gojo leaves her, he can see her gaze lingering on his back, curious and hesitant, as if there is more she wishes to say, but she vanishes into her room, the door shutting softly behind her.
In the guest room, Asabé takes a moment to really take it all in. Her husband has been dead for almost a full year, and her family has been searching for her relentlessly. She thinks about how everything went so wrong, and dreads being dragged back into bondage. She thinks about how Jin saved her without realizing it, and all he got for his troubles was an early grave.
Asabé stares out of the windows into the well-manicured park below, and into Tokyo proper, then she begins the long process of unpacking her things. She opts to shower in lieu of simply freshening up, and when she emerges, she feels less weary and more clear-headed. It's a lovely bathroom, with a deep, freestanding soaking tub, and a shower surrounded by pristine glass. Above the tub is a skylight. She loves that, and anticipates many relaxing bubble baths in the future, staring at the stars. She slips into a short but simple sundress, and pulls her long black hair into a single braid over her shoulder.
When she emerges from the bedroom, she nearly runs into Gojo.
"Oh!" She cries, gasping as he catches her by the shoulders. His hands are soft and warm, much larger than hers, and she looks up at him, wide eyed. His blindfold is off, and she glimpses his face for the first time.
She has never seen such a face, save in the descriptions of angels and their impossible beauty. She stares, momentarily stunned. His eyes are indescribable to her, a blue that defies explanation, as if they are living pieces of the cosmos. His hands tighten on her shoulders only slightly as her gaze slowly studies his face. His mouth is soft and pink, and he's not smiling, but nor does he look unhappy.
"I'm sorry…" She whispers, trying to find her voice and wondering why it's so small. Gojo tilts his head forward, those eyes studying her in full as he smiles.
"Do I make you nervous?" He asks, his voice rich and deep, and Asabé shivers in response, unable to help herself. No, not nervousness, but something she's not quite ready to confront. Slowly, oh so slowly, Gojo releases her shoulders, and she takes a small step back. It's his turn to study her.
Her dress is beautiful, but Gojo thinks this only because it looks good on her. The straps are so delicate, as if they are made to be slipped from her shoulders. He can see the the swell of her breasts beneath, and spots the thin gold chain around her neck, and the seal hanging from it.
It's her wedding band, he realizes. The seal is her wedding band.
"You've been sealing yourself since your marriage?" Gojo asks. Asabé nods quietly.
"It was the only way I could live here peacefully," she says softly. "Jin didn't know. I…I had the ring ensorcelled by a curse user who specializes in seals. It wasn't cheap, but it worked. At least until…"
Gojo can deduce what happened. Likely the "accident" that befell her husband was no accident at all. He beckons her to follow him and they make their way to the living room, which is surprisingly spacious. So much of the apartment is so open that it does make her nervous. She wonders if this design is his choice. It doesn't feel very secure.
They sit on the couch, with her curling on one end and him sprawling on the other.
"Tell me about the accident," he says, and Asabé hesitates. His expression is gentle, almost as if he is compassionate, and she doesn't understand how he manages to make his eyes—so striking!—soft. She has not spoken to anyone about the accident since it happened, but if he can find any answers within, she's more than willing to revisit it.
"We were driving," she begins. "Visiting his parents in Toyama. It was storming terribly, and we'd been arguing. His mother is—was—not very fond of our marriage. We were taking one of the mountain roads and…he couldn't see the cursed spirit but I could. I tried to warn him…but he wouldn't listen."
Asabé shuts her eyes, remembering.
"It pulled us into its domain, but only briefly, and it was enough. The car hit something in the domain, sent us both crashing through the windshield."
This next part, Asabé hates to remember.
"Both of us were horribly injured and dying. I could see my…I was torn open. So was he."
A dress of red, a skin of gray.
"You survived using reversed curse technique," Gojo surmises, his voice quiet and thoughtful. Asabé nods.
"I can't control it," she tells him, "I didn't even know I could do it until that moment. I just knew I didn't want either of us to die, but I couldn't save him. He died right in front of me."
"And the cursed spirit?" Gojo asks.
Asabé fingers the ring around her neck with her slender fingertips.
"I unsealed myself for the first time since leaving my family, and I exorcised the spirit myself. And then I called for help."
Gojo remembers reading about the accident during his personal briefing of Hayashi's background. So a cursed spirit caused the accident, hm? And her unsealing herself means whoever her family sent to spy on her and hunt her down must have finally pinpointed her location.
"Can you unseal yourself, now?" He asks. Asabé freezes, wide-eyed.
"Gojo…" She whispers. "If I do that—"
"They won't find you," he says. "Trust me. Go on, unseal yourself. I'm sure keeping your cursed energy suppressed like that can't possibly be comfortable. And I need to see what you're made of because if you exorcised a spirit on your own, you're clearly not a weakling. Let your hair down, Miss Hayashi."
He winks, and her cheeks flush hot.
"If…if you're sure…" She says softly, and grasps the chain around her neck, lifting it over her head.
All at once a great weight on her soul is lifted and she watches Gojo's expression. He is still smiling but there's a sharpness to his gaze, his pupils shrinking, and she remembers what she knows about the Gojo clan's techniques. Six Eyes and Limitless…she's not sure what either of them are capable of, but from his silence, she knows they are in use.
Gojo has never felt cursed energy like hers before. Usually, the Six Eyes tells him everything from vitals to near-clairvoyant readings on moves everyone around him is making. He can see her cursed energy, a flame of the deepest cerulean he's ever seen. Same color of his eyes if he were to venture a guess. It's beautiful and it is so tightly controlled he knows she's been trained, formally in fact. He focuses his gaze, chases the path of her cursed energy, and sees the brightness along her throat. Cursed speech? He tilts his head, curious.
"You have exemplary control over your cursed energy," he says by way of acknowledging her. "What about your technique? If your family wants you back this badly it has to be pretty powerful.
Asabé hesitates again. "I…I hesitate to use it. It can be…overwhelming."
Gojo smirks, smug and superior.
"I promise you can't hurt me. Go ahead and try."
"I don't want to hurt you," she says and Gojo raises a brow. Most techniques are made to hurt or defend, he can't imagine what power she has that could be for anything else. He gestures for her to continue. Asabé holds his gaze a moment longer, before she shuts her eyes. Without telling her, Gojo releases his infinity. He needs to feel her. God, he needs to stop staring at that brightness on her beautiful throat. He wants to trace a wet path with his tongue along it, feel how warm that satiny brown skin is.
"You can't hurt me."
"But I can."
Gojo lets out an involuntary gasp as he feels the sensation of…it feels like nails digging into his shoulders and forearms, yet Asabé remains curled on the couch, serene as can be.
"How…?" He begins to ask and even though Asabé is no longer speaking he can see the brightness around her throat, still active. The nails are still digging into his skin like a lover clinging to him, and he activates his technique to repel it. He glances down, seeing no marks in his skin, but he can feel echoes of the sensation. The brightness in her throat dims.
"Cursed speech?" He wonders. Asabé smiles thinly, replacing her seal. Her cursed energy goes mute, but Gojo has seen and tasted it and he will never forget it.
"In a sense," she says and Gojo cannot help but brace himself for another ghost sensation. "We do not have the precise power that the Inumaki clan does, where we must speak words that compel. Rather, it is our very voices that inspire sensation: pleasure, pain, and everything in between. With enough effort, I can make you hallucinate."
Gojo can't help it: he's smiling. He's delighted. What a fascinating power, and a dangerous one. Compulsion is one thing, and the energy is not as precise hence why it can backfire so easily depending on how powerful the opponent is, but this? She can speak any word and empower it with whatever she wants her opponents to feel.
"How did you exorcise the spirit?" He asks.
"I sang," Asabé says simply. Gojo laughs.
"What like a lullaby? Did you put it to sleep or something?" He's laughing still and Asabé frowns, rolling her eyes.
"No, I sang until it was torn apart at the seams. It's not just nails I can make you feel, Gojo."
Something about the way she says that makes all the blood rush to his cock. The possibilities of her voice hadn't occurred to him until now. God, if he unseals her and fucks her, he can only imagine—
"Yes," Asabé says, looking amused as she watches him. "Even that."
Gojo grins. "I can't imagine since you decided to seal yourself. Can you control it?"
Asabé has the wherewithal to look indignant.
"Of course." She says through gritted teeth. "I'd not be much use as an heir if I couldn't control my own technique. I only sealed myself to hide from my family."
Gojo leans back, casual and unbothered, and Asabé tries not to think about how good he looks, about the way his button-down is unbuttoned enough to show the beautiful column of his throat, the hollow of his clavicle, and just a peek of his chest. She thinks about how warm his hands are, how gentle he was when he held her shoulders. She bites her lip. Gojo can see it in her, her blood is racing through the pipes of her veins, her heartbeat picking up into a slightly fevered cadence. Her lips part, and her breath comes a little rushed.
Oh, she's turned on. Good, he shouldn't be the only one sitting here wondering what she'll look like with her ankles in her ears and his dick buried to the hilt inside of her. And her voice unsealed? Oh he knows that's dangerous. He can always stuff her panties in her mouth but—
"Stop looking at me like that," she says. Gojo blinks, grinning like a wolf.
"Like what?"
"Like you're thinking about having me with a side of fries," she says. "Speaking of, you mentioned Thai food?"
Gojo laughs. "So I did. Let's eat and maybe we can both stop looking at each other like a couple of rival lions at the drinking pool, hm?"
Her cheeks flush again, and this time she looks away from him.