(a/n) wooo i just realized how long this fic might end up being since this is like, arc 2? idk, hopefully i can wrap this up. in a year? lol idk sorry this took so long T_T its like 100% fight scenes — also i had a bit of anxiety posting this cuz i kept feeling like i could do better so tjags also why its late LMAO
Amanai stared past the glass, reaching over and spreading her fingers against the wall. A thin fence lined the rim of the attraction, and as the girl trailed along the side, eyes wide in some kind of trance, the whale shark followed beside her. Its large body floated elegantly within the enclosure, and Himari observed from a distance.
It was their last stop in Hokkaido, and the trip has taken on a somber tone as Amanai's merger (her execution) approached. Anticipation was always difficult, it was slow lurching toward an end that seemed so far away, until it wasn't.
The group had split up at the aquarium, where Gojo and Geto decided to loiter at the entrance, and Shoko had gone with Misato to the cafeteria. The pair of boys claimed they were simply watching the entrances for suspicious activity, but Himari had a hypothesis that their insistence was related to a 'stingray petting zoo' exhibit located near the gift store.
This left Himari and Amanai alone to explore the aquarium. Although she formed a friendship easily with the younger girl, today was shifted awkwardly toward silence. Amanai's shoulders were rounded, and her gait was slower— a bit resigned. Himari hadn't spoken to the girl about her outburst a few days prior, and truthfully, she didn't know how to.
"It's beautiful," Himari murmured as she caught up to Amanai, she laced her hands together behind her back, then took a seat on the wooden bench. It was a dull green bench, with the paint flaky and chipping off, and a metal plate was screwed into the center of the backrest inscribed with the words, 'in dedication to Emanuel'.
"Do you think Emanuel is the whale, or a person?" Amanai asked pensively while taking a seat, and Himari let out a breathy laugh. The atmosphere had been so tense, she had almost withheld her breathing entirely.
"Who knows, but I sure hope it's the whale. I don't like the name Emanuel— too many vowels," Himari responded with a wave of her hand.
Awkward moments were far too common today, and Himari shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
"Do you like the aquarium?"
It was as if there was a massive pile of trash in front of them, and they were doing everything they could to discuss anything but the stench.
"Yeah, it's cool," Amanai stated despondently, her gaze fixed on the whale in front of the pair. Parents clutching children's hands, woman smiling at their boyfriends, siblings bickering about nothing; wisps of life passed by them, each individual representing options that Amanai would never have.
"It's a bit cruel, though."
"Why is that?"
"They're all so gorgeous, the jellyfish and fish and whales— but they're just stuck here, away from home, and on display? It's inhumane, isn't it?"
Himari thought for a moment, picturing herself in the place of the whale.
"I mean, I guess," Himari hummed. "I'm sorry they'll never see the ocean— but I'd kind of like that life, though. To be admired for my beauty, have all my needs met, and just chill all day? I'm a bit tired of all this. Ignorance is bliss, and all that."
She gestured in a sweeping motion, and Amanai smiled softly.
"You and me are so different, I kind of feel exactly like the whale," Amanai stated. "Forced into a reality where I'm worshipped like a God, but I'm a shadow of who I really am. No choices at all."
She breathed out a sigh.
"Amanai— you have a choice."
The conversation grew increasingly reminiscent of their previous encounter, and unease settled between them.
"I have to, Suzuki, I have to," Her voice came out in a whisper, and Amanai reached out to grip Himari's arm. She could feel the younger girl shaking, and she clasped her own hand around Amanai's. "This is what I was born for, what I live for."
"But you're fourteen, you haven't even lived yet," Himari protested, "Tengen can find another vessel, fuck it— please choose to live, Amanai."
The younger girl smiled up at Himari, and she felt years beyond her age.
"Himari, if it's not me— it'll be another girl. And then another girl. I can't do that to them, not when they probably have friends and family; it's just me and Misato here, and she's probably tired of me by now."
Himari laced her arm around Amanai, resting a hand on her shoulder and pressing the girl into the crook of her neck. Deep, melodic wails rumbled out from the caged whale, and the hum seemed to beckon the two into a silence.
"Thank you for being my friend," Himari whispered. "You're the bravest person I know."
"That's strange," Amanai bubbled into a giggle, "This entire time, I thought I was a coward."
The gleam of the sun against steel Torii gates presented a glare that stole Himari's vision.
It was a soggy heat.
A heat drenched in wet, unpleasant humidity, and it swept across the group as they descended past Tengen's barrier.
Clusters of cicadas hummed in the background, and the group stretched out their weary limbs as they reached the final step onto the campus. Himari had been exhausted, dark bags under her eyes indicated her lack of sleep, and her body felt abnormally heavy. The past couple days had been a jumbled ball of angst and stress, and her edge melted as they reached past the barrier. Gojo's gait grew relaxed, and Amanai placed her hands on her knees, heaving out a huff of air.
"No fucking way I had to climb stairs before my merger," The girl whined, and Misato reached a hand out to ruffle her hair with a whisper of 'language' under her breath. Geto let out a soft laugh.
"Next time I'll carry you," Geto smiled, a tone of bittersweet sympathy carried in his voice. They knew there wouldn't be a next time.
Instead of acknowledging this, Amanai reached a hand forward with a thumbs-up, grinning. "Promise?"
"Promise."
A gunshot went off.
And then a scream.
The sound pierced through the summer peace.
In moments like these, there were two places that drew attention: the source of the impact, and the victim.
Turning her head with stunned silence, Himari stared at Amanai's face splattered with red speckles. Her face was frozen in a scream, and when Himari's eyes trailed down to the floor, Misato's body was crumpled into a lifeless heap, brain matter and blood pooling around her skull.
And then her gaze fell on the source.
A man with a sheepish grin on his face, and a scar pressed into the corner of his lips.
"Ah, I forgot what she looked like."
Adrenaline shot through Himari as the world unfroze, and a sharp sense of dread pierced her.
With no time to mourn, Shoko lunged toward Amanai and wrapped her hand around the girl's wrist, tugging her in the direction of the school. The girl seemed shellshocked, and her body staggered alongside the older girl.
A deafening boom erupted from the barrel of the pistol, followed by a soft clatter of the bullet case against the floor. Smoke lingered in the air, and as the bullet ripped toward Shoko, a white-haired boy stepped into its path.
And the bullet hung in the air.
An expression overtook his face— one Himari hadn't seen before: unadulterated rage. Clenched fists, narrowed eyes, jaw tightened. The ocean roared to life.
"So we're doing this?" Toji grinned, almost playfully.
Geto took a few steps backward, before an opening tore through the atmosphere and a horse-like curse burst outward, bounding in the direction of Shoko.
Himari wove behind Toji.
Her cursed technique had only been activated upon the first bullet, and her future image didn't have time to manifest fully to support longer range.
She drove her fist imbued with cursed energy toward the man, and in a fraction of a second, he was gone.
More accurately, he was everywhere.
The trees surrounding the trio were thick, heavy evergreens with shade that drew cover for critters. The cover seemed to extend toward the assassin, and the thump of Toji's footsteps came from every angle.
Invisible.
A huff of frustration exited Gojo's mouth, and he raised his hands to gather debris scattered on the floor. Blue hue engulfed the collection, and with a single swipe, the trees plummeted to the ground, collapsed into an overlying matrix of nature. In its wake, stood Toji.
"Geto, curses that restrict movement."
Himari demanded, and Geto nodded behind her. The group was in the exact formation they had outlined previously; Geto in the back, Himari and Gojo in the front. Misato's corpse was strewn across the floor, and Himari's blood flushed with burning fury as Toji stepped over the fallen logs to kick the body away from him.
They were on the offensive. Himari was scared for when that would change.
Conjuring up another blue, Gojo directed the burst of cursed energy in the direction of Toji, who seemed to disappear into a flash to avoid it.
A bulky, green curse spilled from another orifice Geto opened, and roots shot forward in the direction of Toji's body, wrapping its tendrils around his upperbody. With the assassin restrained, Himari narrowed her eyes and wove in his direction. Her blink allowed her to be positioned slightly above his head, and she slammed her heel down toward his face.
A smirk emerged on his face, and the cursed worm wrapped around his shoulders exploded with flyheads. The small curses shot upward in her direction, and she braced the impact with her arms covering her face. In that second, the vines burst open and his unrestrained arms grabbed her heel. His grip was tight, and with a swift pivot of his feet, he launched her in the direction of the nearby buildings. The violent force of the throw took her by surprise, and she watched a blur of motion as Toji sprung towards her in an explosive burst of strength.
"Time weave!"
She shouted, and she remerged onto the floor in the distance.
The flyheads seemed to scatter everywhere, and it masked any movements or cursed energy. Craning her head with desperation, she felt herself drifting from Gojo and Geto, and Toji's tactic of isolation seemed to slowly creep onto her.
Where was Toji?
"Time wea—"
A fist collided with her abdomen.
Her muscles contracted instinctively, shielding the area from potential internal rupturing, but the force of the blow threw her back toward the descending stairs. Her breath was momentarily knocked out of her chest, and her body was flung against the concrete.
Toji disappeared once more.
It was frustrating, the inability to communicate with her team, and how weak she was.
Narrowing her eyes, she had barely a moment to think before she felt the presence of another fist thrown in her direction, and she wove away, barely scraping by before contact with the fist.
She needed to return to the group.
Or, she needed to signal her location.
Cursed energy was off the table (the flyheads), and chances were that Gojo was likely avoiding decimating the curses due to her location being unknown. It was as if they were stuck in stasis. Her options shrunk as Toji's fist grazed her cheek, every moment she would weave away blindly into the distance, and he would find her within seconds, pulling toward her like a predator hunting prey.
The thing is, the flyheads hid the presence of all cursed energy, Gojo and Geto were likely unable to locate her due to her constant time weaving, and they were unable to clear the smaller curses due to the potential of targeting Himari.
So she would have to go where there would be an unmistakeable recognition of her cursed energy.
There was a familiar pull in her gut, and she found herself above the ground, in the sky. Above the flyheads, above the chaos, above the world, and for a moment, she was suspended.
Then she plummeted.
She braced herself.
A warped blue hue ripped through the clearing, shredding the flyheads in its rotation as each curse let out high-pitched squeals that melted into one another, before they succumbed to dust. Animalistic roars bellowed from beneath her, and her freefall was halted by the soft, pillowy mane from a curse Geto summoned.
"We missed you," Geto welcomed, and she stepped off the cushioning curse and onto her feet.
It was now an empty clearing, three sorcerers, and the sorcerer killer.
"You can still give up, leave with your life and your tail between your legs," Gojo offered, grinning toward the older man. His sunglasses had clattered to the floor previously, and had been crushed amidst the combat. It's absence leant a chance to peer into his eyes, and Himari winced at the red lines that cracked through the whites of his eyes.
"Unless you can offer me thirty million yen, I don't think I will."
The battlefield sprung to life again.
Floods of curses crashed into the sorcerer assassin, their grotesque, animalistic forms swarming toward the man, lacking almost any impact save for brief distractions. The man was unfazed, constantly springing toward the trio with his fists in an attempt to knock any of the group off their feet.
Himari had begun to take a defensive approach, where each moment the man approached, she would take hold of his potential target and weave past his attack, or even further into the distance. Her reserves slowly seeped away in the combat, and the throbbing of her head indicated that the combat had to end soon.
Unfortunately, the assassin didn't appear to tire. It was attrition warfare, where he would slice through the curses and dodge the blue from Gojo, and when he would swing, Himari would grip his target and weave away from his attack.
Sweat lined her skin as desperation clung to her movements, and she felt exhaustion creep into her bones. Movement became sloppier, and weaving closed less distance.
"We can't keep this up," Himari huffed out as she had brought Geto backwards, barely weaving away from another slash from Toji. There was the option of allowing the group to rely on pure instinct for dodging, but Toji's speed was immeasurably fast, and instinct had fallacies under the precise conditions of dealing with Toji.
Himari exchanged glances with Gojo.
A slash tore through the atmosphere as Toji's weapon propelled itself forward toward the group, only to be intercepted by a blue pulse of energy and debris.
"Do it."
Himari gripped Geto's shoulder, and steel clashed into rubble as the pair wove away, leaving Toji's cleaver digging into the backdrop.
It was a nauseating— sloppy— use of her cursed technique. Had it been a different, less crucial circumstance, she would have been insecure about her technique being used so defensively. The moment she landed with Geto into the cover of thick trees, she gagged, the acidity of vomit climbing her throat before she forced it back down. Iron clung to her taste buds, and the massive distance she created for the pair seemed to affect the sorcerer beside her.
"Fuck, you do this every time?"
Weary eyes met his, and she watched him wipe beads of sweat from his forehead.
"I'm okay, you need to—."
"I know, go back to Satoru."
A hand fell onto her shoulder, and she steeled her stomach. She was teetering on the edge of exhaustion, but she needed to help. This was her purpose, her everything.
And she was in a low crouch against the ground, one hand outstretched behind her. Taunt muscles coiled tightly like a tight spring, and she launched herself in the direction of Toji. Her fist, endowed in cursed energy, seemed to swerve past him as he dodged to the left of her attack.
Desperation inched through her body as she aimed her leg toward the older man's head, only for his hand to block the blow as he retreated backwards.
Before he had an opportunity to take much of a step further, a tightly compressed ball of debris slammed into his back, causing a stumble in his steps.
In his moment of misbalance, Himari took the opportunity to launch herself toward him once more. A piece of wood that seemed to have once belonged to an outhouse was strewn on the floor, and it seemed to fall into her hands as she stepped past it, before slamming the wood into Toji's stomach.
He had speed.
He had strength.
He had smarts.
But he hadn't a team, and at the core of the fight, it was three against one.
If they could chain together her physical combat and Gojo's blue, they could likely trap him in a loop of defensive blocks. He would have to stand still, and Geto would be able to land the shot. It was all rudimentary in theory, but as another blast of compacted debris crashed into his head, Himari could feel a creeping sense of exhilaration. They were winning.
The last piece fell into place.
As another slam of her fists collided with his raised arms, the whistling of cursed energy sped toward the group. Its origin was from the heavily shaded trees, and a special-grade cursed spirit. Himari couldn't help but grin as she threw another fist— it was blocked, but his immediate need to respond to Gojo's threat allowed her to weave into an unpredictable position, and throw another attack.
"Flyheads."
Another explosion of cursed spirits escaped from within the cursed worm's mouth, the sheer force of cursed energy expelling outwards threw her balance backwards, and she landed with her back against the concrete flooring, wincing at the impact.
The cursed energy of his worm was completely masked by the flyheads, and as the bullet drew closer, Himari watched with wide eyes of anticipation.
Three seconds.
Gojo collected a ball of flyheads, swirling the blue hued mass around to collect more of the cursed spirits in an attempt to clear the field.
Two seconds.
Himari felt bile inch up her throat again, her vision dizzying and melting into static.
One second.
Toji glanced in the direction of the bullet. And the cursed worm splattered against his face.
Himari couldn't describe the feeling that befell her. It was the feeling that accompanied the moment one's world flipped upside down; it was a ball of cold, hard ice that slipped down her throat slowly, from numbing her mouth and making its way to anchor down her stomach.
Toji was alive.
The flyheads obscured her vision, and she pushed her wobbly body to her feet. The adrenaline had seemingly worn off, and each step ached as she pushed past the remaining flyheads.
The feeling only got worse.
It was too quiet.
A pulse of cursed energy seemed to signal for her to draw closer, and she swiped at the weaker curses to push herself in the direction of the pulse. Gojo. She had to get to him.
As the cursed energy fluctuated, she felt like it hissed with anger, and then a muted scream of pain.
Please. She had to get to him.
It was as if she had broken past a barrier to another world, and when she cracked the shell of flyheads, she unveiled a nauseating scene.
A mutilated body, a pool— an ocean— of blood, and broken sunglasses.
"Satoru!"
Her muscles cried for relief, her skin was laced with cuts and bruises, and her brain fogged with anxiety. She could only hear one word in her head.
Failure.
Failure.
Failure.
The plan was a failure. The mission was a failure. She was a failure. Himari Suzuki was born a second rate sorcerer, who trained all her life to be a failure.
And she screamed.
The man standing above Gojo's body turned to face her, and she felt an overwhelming dread pin her to the floor as she collapsed to her knees.
"I'd hang around, but I've got three million yen to collect."
Toji smiled at her, and a nauseating rage ran through her veins as she tried to weave to block his path, only to clutch her head in pain.
Pushing herself up to her feet, she trudged toward the man, and he turned to face her. The worm he raised had splattered and fizzled away, and Gojo's body was left on the floor.
"How did you—" She heaved, the taste of metallic blood lingered in her lunges from the force of being thrown against concrete. "How did you get past infinity?"
His response was a mere grin, and the twirl of his knife in hand; a knife decorated with thick coats of blood.
"I'd say it was a pleasure, but you were pretty weak. No fun at all, and to think you had me scared," He mocked, a toothy smile flashed across his face.
"Let me put you out of your misery," He cooed, pulling the pistol that killed Misato out of his pocket. Tears brimmed at the corner of her eyes as she pushed toward the man. She has to stop him from reaching Amanai— she had to do something, anything.
The world was cold around her, drained of its colours and shrouded in a veil of fear and anger.
It was her and Toji.
Just her, just Toji.
A thunderous roar exploded from the gun starring her down, and the bullet raced toward her forehead. For a moment, everything was silent.
She remembered this feeling.
And then the world screamed.
"I know," A voice jostled her out of her daze.
"Go back to Satoru."
The world around her unraveled slowly; the feeling of compacted dirt beneath her feet, the scent of unturned earth, the sight of Geto standing above her, a hand on her shoulder.
It was a stream of reality flooding her senses, and her stomach did a summersault as she blinked.
The trees around her were familiar, and the sound of summer critters— oblivious to the mass destruction— signalled to her that Himari had been here before. Five minutes ago, precisely. She had reversed her cursed technique.
Her cursed energy reserves seemed to have carried over from her previous existence as well, and she gulped knowing that meant she could only use her reversed curse technique a limited number of tries.
The injuries did seem to disappear, however, and she clutched her fists into balls, squeezing as she braced herself to weave into combat.
And she was back.
Crouched against the floor, body coiled with explosive energy, and prepared to lunge at Toji.
It was confusing to say the least.
Like she was an actor on stage, playing out a script she had practiced before. A right hook, and a leg sweep, and a jab to the stomach— it was choreographed dance she had played out before.
The flyheads, the bullet, the hiss of cursed energy.
"Go back to Satoru."
The flyheads, the bullet, the hiss of cursed energy.
Each cycle she managed, she felt her cursed energy dripping from within her system, slowly degrading. There were only so many tries, and each time, she made changes, and each time, she stared down the barrel of the gun as the world would scream once more.
The flyheads, the bullet, the hiss of cursed energy.
"Geto," Himari mumbled as she felt his hand grace her shoulder. He halted mid sentence, and she stared up at him with a desperate plea. She couldn't do this alone, but she also didn't know what to do.
Tears almost broke from within her, and she grasped his hand tightly.
"I've been here before, five times. Your cursed spirit always comes close to killing him, but the flyheads disrupt it, and before I can do anything— Gojo is dead."
His eyes narrowed and he furrowed his brows.
"What are you saying, Suzuki?"
Clutching his arm, she stared up at him.
"My reversed curse technique allows me to reverse time."
Geto hesitated, a moment of confusion crossing his face as the hold on her shoulder tightened. He opened his mouth as if to ask a question, before closing it, the words caught in his throat and smothered by the tense atmosphere.
"I've tried to get you to use a different cursed spirit, and I've tried using a katana, and I've tried taking you back to close-combat. It never works, he always ends up dead, and I don't know what to do."
She let out a sullen whimper. Himari had witnessed Gojo's passing five times. The red stained hair, glazed over eyes, contorted bones— they sunk into her memory and marred itself into her conscience.
"How much cursed energy does it use?"
Himari blinked.
"It's draining. I think I have two more chances."
Geto nodded, bringing his hand to his chin.
"Have you tried rewinding further back?"
The thought had briefly crossed her mind, but the memory of her first— the very first— time jump seemed to burn the thought to ashes. Waking up to a separate reality, losing everyone she loved, being someone entirely new; it was terrifying, and the reality was that she had practically no hold over her ability.
She could rewind too far back: a month, a year, ten years? Losing the life she had built from sticks and stones was terrifying. It was as if she had finally managed to salvage the rubble of her house, and a hurricane was rapidly approaching, threatening to uproot the new foundation.
Perhaps it was selfish.
To be afraid of losing her friends, when a decision to refrain from reversing her cursed technique could very much result in the same outcome. In fact, her fear was even more self-indulgent, when Gojo had given up his life so many times over, and yet she trembled at the thought of potentially losing an ounce of her reality.
"Suzuki, I want you to trust me. Go back, tell Gojo and I. We'll believe you, I promise."
Tears welled in her eyes once more, and she swallowed a lump in her throat.
"I'm tired, Geto. I'm tired of watching him die. And it's not just that," She whispered quietly, a shaking hand reaching out to grasp his sleeve.
He cocked his head, beckoning for her to speak.
"I'm not from this timeline. I came from a future that was ruptured and destroyed, and I guess some form of a binding vow happened, and I got sent back here— ten years into my past."
His eyes seemed to be locked onto her, and she felt a weight slide off her chest. If he wasn't going to remember this, then she might as well take advantage of it.
"And I'm scared. I'm scared to use my reversed curse technique, I'm fucking terrified that I'll lose more people if I try again."
Being able to voice her fears and speak freely was a privilege she hadn't had for months. It was a tragedy given the circumstances.
Geto swallowed, slowly taking in the words she had admitted.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Suzuki. But you used a binding vow last time— this is different, simple, and contained within the bounds of your cursed energy reserves. I doubt you could make it more than an hour in the past. I promise, everything is going to be okay. You won't lose us— you won't lose Satoru, all you're doing is buying us time and information."
It was silent, and she shifted awkwardly before nodding.
"I guess I'll go, then."
"One last thing, Suzuki—" He paused. "I'm truly sorry that I won't remember this."
The world screamed.
"No fucking way I had to climb stairs before my merger."
Himari blinked, and she took one hand to grab her other arm, pinching the flesh as a reminder that she was okay— that she was alive.
How did this play out again?
"Next time I'll carry you."
It felt like a lifetime ago, and she felt an overwhelming sense of dread creep into her bones at the realization of her consumed cursed energy.
Reversing her cursed technique was difficult, but rewinding five minutes seemed to have a relatively low consumption rate— thirty minutes, though? Bracing herself to manifest a future image resulted in a pounding headache, and a fizzle of her cursed energy.
This was it.
Her last try.
"Promise?"
A countdown began in her head. Misato died three seconds after they exchanged their promise.
"Promise."
One.
She lunged in the direction of the older woman.
Two.
She collided with the woman, pushing her into the ground while bracing the woman's impact with her hands cupping the back of her head.
Three.
A bullet whizzed by her head, and the group turned to stare at the source.
Toji.
"Get out of here, Shoko! Amanai!" Himari yelped, pushing herself off the stunned woman before helping her to her feet. Shoko nodded with an intensity in her eyes, reaching out for Amanai's hand and beginning a sprint toward the school. Misato followed suit, in a dazed scramble aided by a fluffy horse-like curse that swept the woman onto its back, before collecting the other two woman.
"Ah, I forgot wh—"
"Shut up. Shut the fuck up!"
Himari interrupted, she was tired of his arrogance— tired of his words, his games, his violence.
"Gojo, Geto— I'm from a future where we've lost to him. This is our last chance, I'm out of cursed energy," Himari stated sharply, watching as Geto begin to speak, and she raised a hand to stop him. "I'm sorry, don't ask any questions right now. Geto, please fight alongside Gojo, and don't worry about me. I'm happy to be a casualty, as long as we win."
Her voice was an unwavering whisper, dignified fragility gracing her tone as she took a step back.
"He has a weapon that will ignore your infinity, so don't get cocky," Himari warned, and before she could catch the responses from the boys, a gunshot erupted leaving smoke and gunpowder in its wake.
The bullet hung mid air as it neared Gojo, and the white-haired boy frowned.
"Can you give a guy a moment? We're trying to have a conversation here!" He complained, shaking his head in annoyance at the assassin.
Toji raised his eyebrows, before carding a hand through his hair and smirking at the trio.
"Right, that's the usual tactic when approaching a fight— give them time to strategize."
And he launched into combat.
"He's fast, clear the surroundings with your blue!"
Himari was an earpiece now, with her ability for combat being extinguished, she provided nothing but commands.
"Kill the worm first."
The boys nodded, and Gojo's blue swept across, clearing the surroundings of trees and buildings.
The primary target was the bottomless inventory curse. If they could remove his arsenal, they could remove the majority of his lethality.
Hovering behind the boys, she felt completely outclassed. No wonder she had been unable to keep up previously— this entire time, she wasn't needed. In fact, if it was just Geto and Gojo, they probably would have won.
Biting the inside of her lip, the bitter flavour of overexertion and fear cut into her tastebuds and she winced.
Each time Toji would approach the boys, Geto would intercept the blow with a summoned curse.
A glint flashed in her vision as Toji's worm opened its gaping mouth.
"He's going to unleash flyheads. Don't get distracted, have your curses deal with clearing the area. Focus on eliminating the worm."
Himari's commands were met with consistent nods, and the fodder curses that exploded from the worm's mouth were met with slithering shots of cursed energy from Geto's summons.
"Not bad," Toji grinned at the group. He cracked his knuckles, before reaching for the nape of his neck sheepishly.
"Say, how much do you really know about your girlfriend there?"
The question seemed to catch the pair off guard, and the barrage onto the assassin slowed for a second.
"Do you really know her? Do you know where she's from? Or anything about her family? Or how she knows all these things? Has she ever explained anything?"
Each question was punctuated with a fist thrown toward the pair of boys. The punches just barely whizzed by Geto's face, and were met with weak rebuttals that did minimal damage to the assassin.
Himari grit her teeth and clenched her fists tightly. It was unbelievable, to imply that she was some kind of villain— she had given up everything to be here.
A hand landed on her shoulder, warmth emanated from the grip, lifting some of the tension pulling inside of her.
"Frankly, didn't ask."
Gojo's voice emitted nonchalantly. His tone seemed almost bored.
A curse shot forward, grappling Toji's body and knocking him off balance.
The gun he had shot with clattered to the floor, and Gojo followed the curse's movement with his own fists, and the two boys created more and more distance from herself. She was watching it all play out— the punches, the kicks, the indominable spirit.
As the combat slowly shifted directions toward the school, her eyes hooked onto the nearby weapon that had fallen from Toji's pocket. There was enough distance between the group and herself, and Toji seemed to be content with ignoring her (whether that was his lack of killing intention she previously suspected, or the fact that he truly thought she was useless, Himari didn't know). A twinge of anger bubbled within her.
This was the man that killed Gojo, and was primed to kill Amanai.
And she would be damned if she stood here, twiddling her fingers.
Scrambling forward, Himari felt the crushed debris beneath her feet clack against the pressure of her gait, and she pulled the gun from the floor.
She didn't need cursed energy.
Narrowing one eye, she focused her gaze onto the figures in the distance. Geto's curses continually angled to seize the assassin, as he raced around the school grounds, narrowly avoiding each attack and thrusting toward the boys, cleaver clutched tightly in hand.
Himari squeezed the trigger.
The rippling shot seemed to alert the assassin, and the bullet locked directly with Toji's gaze. He swerved slightly to avoid the bullet's collision with his skull, narrowly avoiding a fatal shot. In his place: the inventory curse. The purple curse shriveled and screamed, letting out an ear-piercing wail that almost resembled a child as the bullet drilled into its flesh and splattered cursed matter over the assassin's face.
Himari fired again.
Despite the high-pitched ringing in her ear, and the muffled world around her, she didn't stop firing until the gun made a hollow click, and there were no more rounds left.
She understand fairly well that the result of getting shot was likely nothing for a sorcerer like Toji— but she also knew that he likely had no cursed energy to harden his flesh, and it would at least provide an opening for the boys.
Toji had redirected a bit of attention toward her, and she winced at the sight of him dodging each and every bullet, the only casualty being his stupid fucking worm. She bit her lip, but noted that this seemingly distracted him enough for Gojo to land another punch, and Geto to summon another curse.
The presence of the new curse was heavy, and a woman-like abomination emerged from the black summoning circle. She adorned a mask and scissors, and a domain slowly dripped over the pair, suspending the two in a moment of time.
"Do you think I'm pretty?"
The woman's voice growled, and Himari held her breath as she watched Geto and Gojo reposition themselves to collapse into combat if Toji reemerged.
"You ain't my type," Toji growled as he tore the cursed woman to shreds. The special grade curse disintegrated from the impact of his blade, and he broke from the domain with ease. As his form reappeared outside the domain, Geto stood behind him with a fist drawn out and primed to clock his jaw, and Gojo stood in front with a blue hue of debris collapsing down toward him.
"I'm done babysitting," He complained.
Toji's speed was inhuman. He turned with his leg withdrawn, before slamming his force into Geto's abdomen, launching the boy backwards. The debris that slammed down toward him almost danced around his body as he wove in between each article, and Himari's eyes widened as he reached for the hilt of his blade.
It happened in the blink of an eye.
A split second decision overcame her, and as Geto's body flung backwards, meeting brick with a loud thump, her instincts moved before her brain.
Gojo was invaluable. He was the strongest sorcerer of the modern era, and she was a second-rate nobody. It was a simple sacrifice that anyone would have made.
Wringing the last ounce of cursed energy from her body, she closed her eyes and whispered.
"Time weave."
The weapon Toji wielded punctured her body as she manifested in front of Gojo. A wet, squelching noise filled the air, followed by a grunt of pain that escaped her as the blade ran through her left ribcage toward her abdomen.
Pain was never a foreign concept to Himari.
It was someone she knew well, a constant lingering in the backdrop of her life.
But she had never known the intensity of searing, burning pain that ripped through her body and fired through every nerve ending. A wail escaped her throat, and the blood in her lungs gurgled to the surface as the weapon began to withdraw from her body.
Himari had seen Gojo's desecrated body before, and knowing that Toji seemed to think she was only worth a stab was almost insulting.
Before Toji managed to pull the weapon out entirely, she reached forward, gripping the hilt of the blade and pulling him closer toward her. The weapon plunged deeper, but the man seemed almost startled at her insistence.
"You're not even worth fighting," He chuckled in a gruff voice. The adrenaline of the moment masked the deep, throbbing ache of the blade within her stomach, and she stared up at him.
"Fuck you."
The hesitation that overtook Toji was only seconds, but the moment that the weapon plunged into Himari to the second she pulled him close, the fight was over.
A beam of red— blinding red— shot toward the older sorcerer, and his body slammed against the trees. A pained grunt escaped as he attempted to rise to his feet, only for the image of a fist slamming into his jaw, letting out a crackle of untamed energy. Another fist followed this, and then another— collecting into an array of punches that distorted the very air around them. Rippling black energy erupted from the fists, and the older sorcerer attempted to stand— only for a snake-like curse to coil itself around his body, and a final blow collided with his head.
Himari didn't manage to watch the end of the fight. Her vision had grown dark splotches, and she had sunk to the ground in a painful heap of blood.
The blade within her left a searing pain that exploded throughout her body and transferred to every inch of herself. As a black veil slipped over her vision, a boy with white-hair stepped over to her side, his knuckles bloodied and bruised, and his eyes gleaming in the sun.
(a/n) jujutsu scroll!
The warm summer air was suffocating. It was humid, soggy, and all around a terrible time. As Himari stepped down the Tokyo streets, she tucked loose strands of hair behind her ears and let out a quiet groan.
She didn't mind heat, usually— but the sickening drenched type of heat was her least favourite.
Alongside that, she had taken the day off to go shopping, and her stupid brain convinced herself to wear heels.
Heels of all things! For what, to be two inches taller?
Fuck the inventor of heels.
"Can't keep up?"
A snide remark came from in front of her, and she felt a slow bout of annoyance overcome her. Gojo had worn a t-shirt and shorts, and the fact he was six foot two made his stride simply wider than hers.
"You try walking in torture shoes," She whined, the clack of her heels against the floor echoed in a rhythmic melody. Staring down at the floor, the girl continued stepping forward until she crashed into a road-block.
"Woah, take me out to dinner first!"
Gojo exclaimed, bracing her impact by placing a hand on her waist to assist her balance.
She raised a fist to bonk the boy on the head, only for him to slip off his shoes and motion for her to put them on.
"Aw, what! You're actually being nice for once!" Himari exclaimed with a honeyed voicd, slapping his arm and reaching for her heels. He rolled his eyes.
"You're still gonna be slower than me."
"Wait— don't put my heels on, you'll—"
Crack.
The result: a sheepish boy who walked home with a broken pair of heels, and a girl with crossed arms and a pout.