The only constant in Gojo Satoru's life was the Tokyo Table cafe (from where he got his stash of sweets), missions, his students, and to some extent...the Fushiguro siblings (the children of his almost murderer).

But thanks to a HUGE disaster, a face from the past comes careening back into his life. Their first meeting was a fluke, the time together in school ended in a disaster, and the third, well...the third made him realize that this nerd who was way too mopey on a Sunday morning would not stop tossing him out of his comfort zone anytime soon.

In which the great Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive has to come to terms with the fact that he has another brat to keep alive.

A brat who just might be an ancient cursed user reincarnated.

.

.

.

"Congrats, it's a girl!" Kobe, his student, cheered, completely misunderstanding the somber mood of the room.

Shoko's deadpan expression just made it worse. Gojo almost felt his soul leave his body when a pair of grey eyes blinked up at him, framed with wavy white hair, a replica of his face looking back at him.

If the Gods really existed, they were definitely fucking him over.

Prologue

It started as any other day.

22-year-old Gojo Satoru had woken up at the crack of dawn, momentarily questioning whether this job was worth it. He had gotten a mere 3 hours of sleep, which was still a good number if you compare it with the little sleep he gets on other days.

Getting up from his bed, he walked across the room to open the window, feeling the cool breeze tussling his hair. The leaves were slowly turning various shades of yellow and red, indicating the arrival of autumn. It took him a while to get ready, and after he was done, he was ready to badger Asami-chan for breakfast.

It was not that long of a walk to Tokyo Table, where Asami-chan worked the morning shift. But it was a welcome one. Since joining Jujutsu High, it was one of the moments of his day when he was not surrounded by kids, stalked by the new History teacher (who had quite the hots for him, not that he'd blame her), or hounded by Yaga-sensei.

Since it was still pretty early out, there were not a lot of people around. He finally took a left turn, entered a residential area, and marched towards his destination.

Between a small convenience store, and a laundromat, was a quaint little cafe called the Tokyo Table. He had found it a month after he moved to his current house. The owner was the Asami family, who also managed the cafe. Their daughter, Asami Rei, would start the day and he was more or less a regular now, having his breakfasts and a few evening snacks there.

The bell chimed as he entered the shop, the heavenly scent of blueberries and freshly baked bread entering his nose. His mouth instantly watered, and his stomach almost growled.

"Good morning, Gojo-kun! Early as always." Asami-chan greeted him with a tired smile, and he gave a small salute with his fingers as he entered. She was busy putting the various sweets inside the glass display counter, from tarts to cupcakes to pastries to pies.

Everything he could desire was right here in front of him.

He leaned down over the display shelf, taking a careful glance at every treat.

"Good morning, Asami-chan! Now, what do you have for me today?"

She smiled gently, pushing her hair back, before pointing towards the tasty-looking strawberry and cream pie. From the kitchen, a young girl came out. In her hand, she carried trays full of chocolate tarts. He recognized her immediately, it was the new girl Asami-chan had hired straight out of high school.

"Why don't you try this today? It's Imada-chan who has made it today."

He almost wanted to say no and tell her he'd rather have whatever Asami-chan had made. No offense to the new girl, but he didn't want to start his day with what could possibly be a botched attempt.

And he could have, but he noticed the slightly pleading look on Asami's face and the hopeful, blushing face of the new girl. And so, resigning to his luck, he shrugged.

"Sure."

A smile erupted on both of their faces, but it didn't make him feel better. For his sake, he hoped the pie was as good as it looked.

"You want something to drink?"

"Anything you have. Just add extra sugar and cream...and ice cream."

Asami sighed in an exasperated manner, brown hair shining under the white lights. The new girl went back to the kitchen, and Gojo made his way towards his usual seat. An old man entered the cafe, greeting Asami and that's where Gojo's attention left them.

Soon Asami was in front of him, putting a plate of pie down in front of him, and a big glass of sweetened drink.

"One plate of Roasted strawberry and cream pie, and a glass of Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappuccino, with extra sugar and cream, and of course, ice cream on top."

He thanked her, but not before his eyes ended up on the dark circles under her eyes and the creases on her clothing.

"Somebody has had a rough night, it seems."

"Yeah, tough night indeed. Thanks, by the way, Imada-chan was feeling anxious about this. It's her first time baking for the shop, you see."

"Well, you know me. Can't see a pretty damsel in distress." He said sarcastically, and she shook her head with a smile. He asked her to pack him some raspberry-flavored molten chocolate cakes for his travels as well. With snacks arranged for the evening, he was ready to dig in.

A middle-aged woman walked in, eyes wide at his full table as she walked past him. He gave her a toothy smile, causing her to hurriedly look away.

Today was good enough.

His phone buzzed on the table, and his eyes fluttered to it. For a moment he thought of checking it, but instantly dismissed the notion. If it's not on the plate, then it can wait.

It was quiet again for a few minutes, leaving Gojo alone to his thoughts.

Till the afternoon he would be busy with the first years. Kobe and Oishi had just returned from their first Grade 2 mission, and he wanted to go over it with them. Harumi was, on the other hand, busy with a Grade 3 mission.

It was her first time going alone, and Gojo hoped it would be challenging enough. Funnily enough, Harumi had much more raw talent than the other two, however, was still lagging behind them. It somehow reminded him of a kouhai back in his days, but her problem was that she had no interest whatsoever in being a sorcerer.

But Harumi, on the other hand...

His phone buzzed again, and then again a few more times. From the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of the disgruntled old man looking disapprovingly in his direction.

So this time when his phone rang, he had to take action.

With an annoyed sigh, he finally answered the call without taking a look at the caller. But he had barely opened his mouth in reply when Shoko's voice hit his ears.

"Gojo, you need to come to the campus quickly."

"Tsk, no hello, no good mornings? Rude."

He could hear her take a frustrated sigh, the same as all the times she had before. In the background, he caught the frantic voice of Harumi, one of his new students. It made him perk up suddenly.

"Everything okay?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Gojo knew she must be rubbing her head, tired from long shifts at the Campus Hospital and whatnot. "I don't know what the fuck is going on. Just get your ass back here."

"Is someone dying?"

"Wha-no, not really. But you need-"

"Kay, will see you!"

On the other end, Shoko looked at the phone in her hand with thinly veiled annoyance, before realizing there was someone else she needed to call.

Staring at his phone, Gojo Satoru took a moment to gather his thoughts. Didn't sound like someone was in mortal danger, so technically, he could wait five minutes to finish his breakfast.

Picking his spoon again, he was almost ready to dive in before the doctor's frantic voice echoed in his mind. Somewhere in his mind, it bothered him. If it was anyone else, he would have probably finished his breakfast. But her? She was the coolest ice cube in the tray, and it made him uncomfortable to ignore a frantic Shoko.

Not to mention, he didn't want an angry Shoko on his tail.

With a dramatic sigh, he stood up gesturing at the new girl on the counter. Her face erupted in a fountain of reds, and Gojo couldn't help but snicker a little at that.

"Imada-chan, was it?" He smiled, flashing all his pearly whites as the girl scuttered up to him.

"Be a dear and pack this would ya? Duty calls, ya know! Gotta save the world and all." His smile turned a tad bit smug when she nodded in a dainty manner, looking up at him shyly through her lashes. It felt good to know that girls were still turning into a puddle at the mere glance of him.

Not that it mattered, anyway.

And soon, Gojo Satoru was out of the cafe, 2 bags of confectionaries in one hand and an atrociously sweet drink in the other. With a relaxed gait, the towering man walked into an abandoned alley, vanishing in the dark shadows of it.

It was the harsh sunlight that woke her up. Her head was pounding, her eyesight blurry, and her mouth felt like it was full of cotton. She felt her head spinning when her eyes landed on the unfamiliar ceiling, confusion piling up on her already messed up brain.

She shifted on her side slowly, feeling the world spin a bit as she did so. Her brain was starting to register the nausea she felt, and she stood up shakily. Slowly the events came back to her, she had gone out for drinking with Nanami and Utahime. They had dropped Utahime first before she took a quick stop at Nanami's new place to freshen up.

Only to have a blackout.

Rubbing her eyes, she registered the sheets under her, and the blankets covering her. The AC was still on, and her brain didn't fail to register the consideration on Nanami's part.

Getting up with a big yawn, she noticed a pitcher of water and a glass of water were also placed there. Great gesture, but she doesn't take water or food until she has brushed her teeth.

She glanced at the bedside table beside her, pushing her wavy curls back over her shoulder.

12:17 pm.

"Huh, why did I get up so early?" She muttered, a pout forming as the pain in her head got worse. Her mobile was on the other side of the bed, but she decided against checking it. It was the weekend after all, and since she didn't have any important projects going on, she'd rather not check the phone.

Besides, it's not like she was a teacher or an active sorcerer, or even a doctor like Sho-ahh, Ieiri-san.

In fact, she has just joined the school, barely two weeks ago. For three years, she was back in her country. Trying to make a normal living out of her life, joining college, and getting a management degree to appease her father. Not that it satisfied him, considering he was hoping she would go for either an engineering degree or a medical one. Well, to be fair, if she could do something she actually wanted, it would be either something like history or politics.

But it didn't...work out.

And she was back here.

Again.

Just a humble seal and barrier expert, nothing special or outstanding. No one in the world is depending on her to save them.

Besides, who wants to read Kamo Kazuhiro's message asking her for more updates?

That too, on a Sunday.

She made her way outside but stopped in front of the mirror in Nanami's room.

Come to think of it, it was the first time she had been in his bedroom. Instead of a TV, that one would normally find in the wall facing the bed, it was a huge bookshelf, filled with books on various topics. Her eyes scanned them over, and her lips quirked when she saw a pair of pretty worn-down classical fantasy books. Something one would never really expect from him, but so like him.

After a while of analyzing his books, she lost interest and took a quick look at his room. The white walls, wooden furniture, and scarcely any home decor or photos.

She turned back towards the mirror, leaning in closely. Thankfully, she had not used any heavy makeup last night.

Her kohl-rimmed eyes (her go-to look) were a bit smudged, but they looked even better now on her grey eyes. She noted it in her mind for further use and looked at her skin. Since she had ditched any foundation or heavy cream, so it was still good. She craned her neck back, looking at her neck. The concealer has not budged yet, still hiding the old and ugly scars that littered her neck.

Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for her hair. The dark brown curls were now a bird's nest. A shiver ran down her spine when she imagined the pain she would have to take to get all the tangles out. Trying to make herself at least a bit representable, she went back to her purse and took a claw clip out. It took a while, but she was able to make the poor thing hold it all back for the time being.

Finally, she made her way out, and there he was.

Her lips quirked up in a smile as she saw him hunching over the stove. A pillow was placed on the dark blue couch, with white covers folded neatly at the end of it. Her heart warmed at the sight, and she would have skipped to his side if the nausea wasn't there. Thankfully, her head was already better.

"Morning, Nanamin! Whatcha up to?"

He turned back to look at her as if examining her for any signs of discomfort. Seemingly satisfied, he turned back to the stove.

"Morning. Just making breakfast. How are you feeling?"

She shrugged, standing beside him.

"M' fine. Just a bit of nausea...I don't really get hangovers, ya know. Hmm, chili cheese toast?" She leaned over the counter, watching him work in a relaxed manner as he spread some cheese on the bread.

"Mmmhh. Nausea is also a hangover. And yeah, with garlic. Just the way you like."

A breathy laugh left her lips.

"Nah, doesn't count. But really, you remember? I thought you would have forgotten for sure."

"Why?"

A sense of uneasiness washed through her, or maybe it was just the nausea only. But looking at his furrowed brows, she wasn't sure if it was right to start the topic again.

Lips pursing, she turned away and balanced her waist against the counter.

"I...just thought we weren't friends anymore."

Silence filled the space between them, disrupted only by the sounds of sizzling as the blond placed the bread on the pan. Her eyes fell at the door to his apartment, noticing how neatly her boots were placed against the wall, socks tucked inside. And she was sure, it was definitely not her who took them off and placed them at the door like a polite guest should.

In fact, now that she remembers...she might have walked into his house with the shoes on...

Suddenly, a finger entered her vision and she closed her eyes as he flicked her forehead (the hangover didn't help).

"I am sorry I made you feel that way."

The sincerity in his voice almost made her eyes water, but she turned her back to him, the emotions hitting her right in the heart (the hangover really didn't help).

"And I'm sorry about what I said. You were hurting as well."

"Ah, shit. Sorry, don't cry, please." She could feel him hovering over her back, unsure whether to touch her or not. It was enough to make her feel a pang of pain, things have changed.

"I'm not! You know what? Let's think about all of this shit later? I'm in such a good mood today," turning back towards him, she pulled two plates out to help him set up the breakfast. He looked at her unsurely, before catching on the unsaid cue.

"Fun fact, yesterday was the first time I had a blackout, and not gonna lie, it was amazing!"

He looked at her weirdly, placing a toast on the plate.

"You liked a blackout?"

"Uhmm, dude I remember rambling nonsense to the two of you. Though I'm sure Utahime was just as wasted-"

"She was definitely worse."

"Yeah, she was. But getting upstairs to your apartment- I don't remember that. I only remember throwing my purse somewhere and falling down on the couch. That's it."

"And then you were out like a light."

"Heh, sorry about that. But I did warn you! I only drink outside, and when I do, I make sure to get as wasted as I can. But really, sorry about bothering you so much."

He smiled. Finally, she thought with a grin of her own. The space between them no longer felt constricted, suffocating. Sure, it wasn't the same safe and warm space that was there when they were friends back in high school, but still...it was something.

"You know, I was quite relieved to find out you are a happy drunk. But I admit I was surprised to see that you have turned into a party animal."

A laugh left her lips, getting louder only when her stomach growled loudly. Red painted her cheeks, and she rubbed her neck in embarrassment. A snicker left his lips, before he pointed her towards the direction of the bathroom.

"I have a spare brush in the bathroom, just got it from downstairs. Hurry up, I'll get the plates ready."

She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow because again, he must have remembered it. That she never eats or drinks until she has brushed her teeth.

"You know Nanamin, someday you are going to make a girl really lucky."

"Yeah, yeah. Get to it already. I'm also starving."

It was nearly half past 1 when she got a call from an irate-sounding Ieiri-san.

One moment, she was nestled comfortably on the couch with Nanamin, watching some new anime that had come out, and next, she was being scolded on the phone.

"Uhhh..."

"11 missed calls! E-L-E-V-E-N! I left you messages as well, 16 of them! Yet you didn't answer! Not even a single one!"

The dark-haired girl couldn't help the annoyance that went through her at that moment. What right did Ieiri even have to worry about her? It's not like she was going to die or anything!

"I was outside yesterday night. Woke up late, no big deal." She said in a clipped tone, putting her boots on at his doorstep, while Nanami hovered behind her.

She heard a deep sigh on the phone and knowing Ieiri-san, she was sure the other brunette was rubbing her forehead lightly with her fingers. That was what she used to do, whenever worried about something.

"You aren't here yet...are you-"

The brunette strained to hear whatever she was saying, considering the noises in the background. She couldn't make out what was happening in the background, but Ichiji seemed frantic about something.

"Nope, not back yet."

"Are you...safe?"

It seemed like a stupid question to her, but the question made her wonder how to respond. Their relationship was still a bit frosty, and it was kind of her fault too. She could easily pick up the reluctance in the doctor's voice, though how casually she had asked the question.

Was she offering her a chance of normalcy? Or was this just a courtesy question? It didn't seem like so in the way she asked. So how should she respond? Should she blow her off with a casual reply, or actually show some gratitude? To think about it, even if she asked casually, society dictates to be polite and grateful.

"Yeah, I'm at Nanamin's right now. Will be back in an hour or so," She replied, zipping up the other boot and standing up.

"Oh?"

She didn't like the way she said it, and quickly bid her goodbye. Turning around, she saw Nanamin leaning against the wall, quietly watching her. There seemed to be concern in his expression, though he didn't seem to say it out loud.

Just like the old days.

"It's fine. Nobody is dying as far as I'm aware...at least, I hope so." Completing the last part with a frown, she watched in confusion as Nanamin let a hand out for her to shake.

"I am happy we could hang out again-"

Reluctantly, she ignored his hand and approached him, causing his words to fade away. A huff of laughter escaped her as she gave him a hug, resting her head on his shoulder. His tensed body relaxed after a few seconds, and his hand gently fell on her shoulder.

"You still get awkward with hugs, huh?"

"You aren't exactly relaxed either."

"Nanamin," She hummed on his shoulder, despite already having his attention. If she could pretend, it would be like they were still back in high school. In the garden near the cafeteria, where the first time he had hugged her to comfort her after a particularly harrowing mission. The only difference was there was no Yu who would walk in with hands full of pizza boxes and a large smile on his face.

Just the thought of him made her throat tighten, and with the way his grip tightened and his chin ended up on her head, she wondered if Nanamin was remembering the same memory.

"Thank you for giving me one more chance."

Gojo Satoru does not apologize.

He didn't apologize to his mother when she waited for him the entire night, with the big birthday feast she had prepared for him already cold in front of her.

He didn't apologize when the servant girl, who used to follow him around as a kid back in the Gojo estate, got hurt when some random curse user tried to kill him.

He didn't apologize to the girlfriend of that high school boy who, unfortunately, was the collateral damage of a rampaging curse.

And he couldn't apologize to Suguru, his best friend, for neglecting him when the black-haired boy needed him the most (it was too late for an apology, the damage was already done by then).

Gojo Satoru didn't apologize.

And yet, the strongest sorcerer couldn't help the way his stomach turned at the sight of her, his kouhai from high school days.

When he reached her office, he saw Shoko talking to the person he once knew all too well. One of the few people with whom he shared his most carefree days, laughing and messing around.

Tarini.

'Please don't use my surname, thank you very much!'

A voice from the past echoed in his mind, leading to his lips twitching in nostalgic amusement. The sight of her made his right cheek tingle, where remained the small scar her stupid cursed energy gave him on their first meeting.

He still remembers it clearly, the day she first came to the school campus. Haibara had already reported a week before, Nanamin was due to come in a couple of days, and she was somewhat of a "special case".

She looked a bit young for her age, but maybe that was because of her mousey personality and the perpetually terrified face she had on (or perhaps her round cheeks did the job, making her look like a kid sometimes).

At first, he almost didn't see her, hiding behind her sister and holding onto her tightly. The older sorcerer called her "Rani", a pet name that Haibara picked up, and from him so did the others.

Everyone but him. To him, she was just Tarini.

Yaga-sensei was a bit more sympathetic to her situation (and therefore ignored the timidness to a certain extent), which was new to him.

At first, he thought it was absurd that somebody like him would have to share a space with somebody like her. After all, he was sure she would be a dead weight around here. But time went on, and it turned out that for someone as pessimistic as her, she was surprisingly cunning and resourceful.

Not that pessimistic people aren't, but her invisible personality wasn't winning her any awards.

But time passed, and although still a coward, she was somehow still a dependable teammate. Her shyness didn't leave, yet she opened up to the point where she was one of the noisy ones in their group. And then her meekness to strangers which used to annoy him, became hilarious.

The curly-wavy mess of dark hair was still the same, albeit a lot shorter now. She was sitting across from Shoko, one leg crossed over the other, scribbling on a small diary about something he had no idea about.

Shoko slouched over on her office chair with her chin perched on the palm of her hand. Her usually perfectly styled hair was a little unkempt, and he could already predict that she was having a headache, with that slight downturn of her lips.

He decided to make his presence known, thinking if he was any more late, then Shoko would eat his brains out.

He wondered how to greet her.

Should he be casual, or should he ignore her? What would she prefer?

He knows her, maybe in bits and pieces now, or maybe he knows nothing about her. Perhaps she changed after their fight, perhaps she did not. It's been four years after all, and three years since he last saw her, when he left her alone that evening in the middle of nowhere, crying tears of anger, bitterness, and hurt.

And here she was again, barely back to Jujutsu High as the Seal and Barrier Master, filling in for Kimura-sensei who would soon retire. He knew she had been back, but stayed out of her sight.

Because he didn't know anymore, he didn't know how to approach another regret of his.

As a friend, he remembers, she was pretty laid-back. Had a few arguments, but never kept a grudge. As soon as the other person was nice to her again, she was back to normal. He used to think she was a pushover, but lo and behold, here is he, a few years later - doing the same, more or less.

Shoko's advice was a cautious approach, test the waters but don't go near. Unfortunately, she was working on an assumption that their argument was a small one like the two girls had. Turns out she never told Shoko, and while he should have told his classmate, he couldn't do so either.

What to do.

What to do?

Fuck it. When have I ever thought about this?

Brown eyes looked up as he approached them, Shoko giving him a relieved yet troubled look. The expression, on her face, was somewhat new. His eyes swept around the infirmary, but there was no sign of Harumi, Kobe, or Oishi.

He cleared his throat loudly, eyes focused on the girl who sat with her back to him. Shoko raised an eyebrow, giving him a flat look.

"Shoko, you called?"

"Yes. A mission of yours from 4 years ago, seemed like you messed up."

A scoff left his lips, unconsciously but not that his deliberate reaction would be any different.

Still not looking at me.

From the side, he could make out a pair of reading glasses perched upon her head. A white scarf, like those she used to wear even as a teenager, wrapped snugly around her neck, covering a bunch of light scars that he knew were still there. He wanted to keep his distance, but simultaneously, something in him itched to turn her around and look at her face.

He wanted to know what he would see. Would it be shock or anger? Or perhaps there would be nothing?

"Oh yeah, which one?"

"In Saitama Prefecture, in those forests with the abandoned villages."

With this, she turned around.

Sharp grey eyes looked back at him as if sizing him up. The kohl on her eyes was smudged, her hair messily held up by a single claw clip, and he wondered just what she had been up to considering the haphazard way she was dressed.

Back when they were young, she always wore her heart on her sleeve. But today, despite her carefree-looking face, he could see how cautious she was. It disappointed him somehow, yet didn't surprise him. It was merely a few moments, and she quickly turned her gaze to Shoko instead.

"Even if we might have failed, this is still a huge discovery, Ieiri-san." She muttered, and Shoko gave her a concerned look.

"You do realize that we are talking about a living, breathing person here? And believe me, when you will take a look at her...you won't be so confident."

It made Tarini frown, and for once, Gojo felt the same.

"What are you talking about? Why would I give two fucks about a cursed user anyway?"

But Gojo's breath almost got stuck in his throat when he felt two people approaching the doctor's office. One was known to him, his student Kobe. But the other... so familiar, yet so different. Cursed energy that was almost a carbon copy of the kouhai sitting in front of him, only this time, it was mixed with his own.

And that was when he heard a small sneeze, not that of an adult but like that belonging to a child. He almost wanted to believe that it was a kitten, but in his heart knew otherwise.

It froze him, which was a feat in itself because the last time that happened was pretty long ago. And suddenly, like a broken record, the memories of that mission resurfaced in his mind—that cult of a village, the ancient shamaness Himiko, and her unique seal to reincarnate herself.

Tarini must have felt it too, because she looked just as disturbed as he felt. With a stuttering breath, she let her head fall into her hands, groaning softly. Her breathing quickened, and she tugged at the collar of her shirt, muttering something to herself.

If she was having a panic attack, then that would be good. Because he was no longer capable of feeling it himself.

He turned around, and he was sure his breath left his lungs.

They had made sure that the attempts of the village to incarnate the shamaness were thwarted, so how could this be possible? It was a danger he could not risk befalling the jujutsu society, so he had personally made sure to put an end to it.

Wide gray eyes stared up at him, white locks of wavy hair framing her small face. It was like he was looking at a 4-year-old version of himself, because if the kid's cursed energy was like his kouhai's, then her face was exactly like his.

Exactly like his.

"Congratulations, sensei! It's a girl!" Kobe cheered, completely misunderstanding the surprised look on his face. The somber mood of the room should have been a hint, but the knucklehead kid was not the brightest bulb in the box. The little girl whose hand he was holding winced, and looked up at him shyly.

If looks could kill, Kobe would have been buried six feet under the ground right now. Gojo doesn't remember when he last felt so pissed off at the kid, but today he did. The brown-haired boy didn't seem to get a hint, but the girl years younger than him gasped, hiding herself behind the teenager's leg. Kobe perked up when his gaze landed on the new woman, who was the new sensei of seals and barriers, one whom he had yet to meet.

"So that's your Mommy, is it Tsukiyo?"

"Kobe!" Shoko chided, and the woman who was called "mommy" cried out. For a moment, Gojo's eyes didn't leave the child...the child who was supposedly the "reincarnation" of the shamaness Himiko. His eyes didn't miss how the little girl brightened at the sight of his kouhai, who was now looking as white as a sheet.

"Oh my god, I'm going to throw up!" she quickly left her seat, running towards the washroom and out of the door. The brown-haired woman gave her a concerned look, but Gojo was torn between being offended at the extreme reaction or finding another washroom to throw up as well.

"Did I say something wrong?" The brown-haired boy looked at them sheepishly, and Gojo's scowl softened. He slowly turned to Shoko, fixing her with his displeased stare.

"What the fuck, Shoko?"

The woman just shrugged.

"Your technique," she pointed to him, "and her cursed energy." Pointing at the door, Shoko gave him a slightly concerned look.

"And as for the looks, clearly you can see who she takes after more. Gotta say though, that Himiko definitely knew what she was doing."

Gojo gave Shoko the chilliest glare he could muster.

"Care to explain then?"

"I never said I knew what she was doing."

Shoko's deadpan expression just made it worse.

For the first time in 4 years, Gojo felt his soul leave his body when the grey eyes blinked up at him, framed by snow-white hair. The kid bit her pink lip (exactly like his kouhai does), small fists clenching hard on Kobe's jacket.

If the Gods really existed, they were definitely fucking him over.

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm back. And yes, Kismet is now being rewritten. I was not satisfied at all with the writing style, how the characters were turning out, and how the story was progressing. I felt directionless at times, to be honest. I wasn't exploring the other characters either.

As for SatoSugu, damn I don't know what to do. I'll keep it the same as anime, keep it ambiguous but nothing concrete. Because it's a whole lot of angst on its own, and I don't know how much more angst this story will be able to handle.

I still plan on having the story longer than normal, because that's how I like my stories. I hope you guys will support it. I don't know what more to say, to be honest, but let's hope you guys will like it.

I'll be dividing the chapter into different Acts, like arcs. The first arc will cover the Hidden inventory arc, and yes the story will be pretty long.