"The moon will shed light on my pure heart, even to the depth of flooding waters that is not the sea."
Gojo read the line aloud with exaggerated drama, and then promptly made a loud gagging noise, causing several people to turn their heads. "Poetry near a pond," he declared with mock horror, but at least had the sense to lower his voice before continuing, "what an eternal loser."
Utahime had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. The last thing anyone needed was Gojo feeling even slightly encouraged.
The bookstore was beautifully decorated in a traditional Heian-era style. Banners made of fine silk draped gracefully from the ceiling. Softly glowing lanterns cast a warm, ambient light across the space. The soft strains of koto and biwa music played in the background.
The size of the crowd was impressive, people were milling about in eager anticipation, many carrying freshly bought copies of the newly discovered poems attributed to Japan's great hero, Michizane no Sugawara. Hiroshi Kuroda was celebrated for having unearthed these ancient works from the Gojo family library and the media was having a field day interviewing starry-eyed fans and literary professors who had traveled here from far away to offer their expertise.
"You want something to drink?" Gojo asked, his eyes scanning the crowd.
He was fidgety and restless, his energy almost buzzing with the effort of behaving himself. Utahime knew him too well—he was a live wire in settings like these, where patience and decorum were expected. If she didn't find a way to calm him down or get him out before the public reading started, there was no telling what might happen.
"That would be lovely," she replied, offering him a calm smile.
The warm, fuzzy feeling that flooded her when he smiled back made her breathless and light-headed. How young he looked! Almost like he could be barely twenty with his stylish sunglasses, tousled white hair, and the kind of effortlessly cool outfit only the very confident would wear.
"I'll be right back," he promised.
Gojo made his way toward the refreshment table, towering above everyone else in the room. People turned their heads as he passed, eyes filled with awe and curiosity—he was a celebrity after all. Even if none of them knew the real weight he carried, everything about him screamed influence and wealth, from the custom-tailored jacket to his limited-edition sneakers, the kind that most people couldn't even dream of getting their hands on.
Seeing him exposed like this, Utahime's chest tightened with a familiar pain—he had been so close to slipping away forever, and the thought still haunted her. She had grown accustomed to his invincibility, the aura of untouchable strength he radiated, but now, there was a new fragility to it all, a stark reminder that even the strongest could fall.
"Hey, girl!" A familiar, smoky voice greeted Utahime from her elbow, warm and teasing. "You're looking good!"
"Shoko!" Utahime squealed, turning to throw her arms around her best friend. Even though her belly got in the way, she still managed to hug Shoko tightly, conveying all her joy and excitement. "You made it!"
Shoko wore a sleek black cocktail dress and high heels, with a camel-hair coat draped over one arm. She looked like she had just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine and Utahime wondered who the lucky guy was she was pursuing—if there even was one. She hoped it was someone strong enough to help Shoko heal, to let her move on from the shadow of Geto Suguru.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Shoko replied in her typical dry tone, though her eyes flicked over to Gojo, who was now staring at a plate of donuts with an intensity that didn't bode well. Neither the donuts nor the dignity of this Heian-style event might survive if he got carried away.
"He's alright?" Shoko asked.
Utahime nodded. "Yeah, he's fine," she replied.
Things had been rough for a while, but now everything was back on track. Mostly. Reestablishing the Gojo family's dominance as one of the Top Three sorcerer clans hadn't been easy, but Gojo's carefree demeanor hid his strategic brilliance very well. Most people underestimated him, assuming his laid-back attitude meant a lack of seriousness. They were wrong.
The first step had been to cripple the Zen'in family financially, something Gojo had orchestrated with almost ruthless efficiency. Through a series of clever stock trades, strategic mergers, and a bit of economic sabotage, Gojo had bled the Zen'in assets dry without them even realizing the extent of the damage until it was too late. By the time they did notice, the Zen'ins were trapped by their own greed, scrambling to recover while Gojo tightened his grip. They were controlled for now.
The Kamo Clan had been a trickier adversary. Their vulnerabilities were less obvious, their secrets better hidden. But with the help of Hiroshi, Gojo had found their weak spot. A dark, festering secret lay buried in the Kamo family's past—the sins of Noritoshi Kamo, an infamous ancestor who had broken all the Jujutsu laws with cruel, inhumane experiments. It didn't matter that Utahime and Gojo suspected Kenjaku's hand in it: Kenjaku was gone and this wasn't just a skeleton in the closet; it was a scandal that could destroy the Kamo Clan's credibility and standing. Gojo made sure they understood what his silence was worth. With that leverage, he kept them in check, ensuring they wouldn't dare challenge the Gojo family's place in the hierarchy for the foreseeable future.
The main, unsolved problem was Gojo's own powers. Ever since Tengen's disappearance, cursed energy across the entire world had been in flux—wild, unpredictable, and dangerously unstable. Gojo felt it in his own abilities. The once unshakable dominance of his techniques had become unreliable. Sometimes his powers worked just as they always had, but there were moments—more and more of them—when he felt the connection slipping, as though the energy that had always been under his command was now beyond his control.
Rumors were already spreading. Whispers that Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, might no longer be as invincible as he appeared. These rumors persisted and grew, circulating among the higher-ups, the clans, even reaching foreign sorcerers. And in the world of jujutsu, to appear weak was the worst thing that could happen to someone like him.
Gojo knew how perilous this was. His power wasn't just his strength; it was a deterrent, a safeguard that kept the sorcerer world in balance. If anyone truly believed that Gojo could be taken down, it would create a vacuum of power that every ambitious sorcerer or clan would scramble to fill. The Zen'ins, the Kamos, even foreign powers would be circling, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
And yet, as much as Gojo wanted to fix this problem, the source of the instability wasn't something he could easily address. With Tengen gone, the very fabric of cursed energy seemed to be unraveling, and even someone as powerful as Gojo couldn't bend the laws of the universe back into place. He had to tread carefully now, keeping up appearances while desperately searching for a solution.
"It seems like cursed energy is gradually weakening," Utahime confided in her friend.
Shoko nodded thoughtfully. "That's what they're saying," she replied. "But what does it really mean?"
That was the question that haunted them all. The slow erosion of cursed energy felt like watching the very foundations of their world begin to crumble, bit by bit. If the core of their power continued to diminish, what would become of the jujutsu society? What would happen to those sorcerers who had dedicated their lives to mastering techniques that could soon be rendered irrelevant?
"I don't know," Utahime admitted with a weary sigh. "But we're already feeling the effects. The students are having a tough time. They struggle to connect with cursed energy. Some can barely muster enough for a basic attack."
Shoko's brow furrowed. "It feels as if the energy is thinning out," she said, glancing around the bookstore as if it might offer some answers. "If this trend continues, we might face the end of cursed techniques for everyone, not just the weaker sorcerers."
"What if that's actually a good thing?" Utahime suggested, her eyes brightening at the thought.
"You mean…"
"Yes! Imagine it—no more deaths, no more suffering. We'd be… normal!"
Shoko burst into laughter. "Normal? Never!"
As Utahime looked around the room, she realized how rare it was for her to mingle with non-sorcerers like this these days, sharing this moment of culture and history. These people were captivated by the beauty of the words on the page, blissfully unaware of the darker truths woven within them. They didn't need to understand the weight those verses truly carried to enjoy them. It was the law that kept the two realms apart, and yet, standing among them, she felt a strange comfort in their ignorance. Their inability to grasp the secrets and burdens they safeguarded felt oddly liberating, allowing her to breathe more freely.
Others seemed to share her sentiment. Utahime spotted familiar faces—Kusakabe, unusually relaxed and carefree, stood with his girlfriend Emi, who radiated pride as she excitedly talked up her brother Hiroshi's achievements to anyone within earshot. Nearby, Ayumi and Ema, Gojo's cousins, mingled among the crowd. It was clear that Ema and Hiroshi were an item, though Hiroshi seemed noticeably apprehensive about Gojo's opinion. Gojo, of course, was fully aware of this tension, and being the person he was, he took full advantage of it. He acted deliberately as if Ema's dating choices were a matter of great importance for the Clan, dropping the occasional remark about bloodlines and honor or pointed look that kept Hiroshi on edge. In reality, though, Gojo couldn't have cared less about who his Americanized cousin chose to be with.
"The chaos trio is here," Shoko remarked, pointing toward the entrance where Gojo's three first-year students had just arrived.
Yuji spotted them and waved so enthusiastically that he accidentally knocked someone's glass out of their hands, splashing the nearby guests.
"Sensei!" he shouted, his voice ringing across the room. Gojo, juggling two glasses while stuffing his face with donuts, turned just in time to see Yuji barreling through the crowd toward Utahime.
"Sensei!" Yuji exclaimed, his eyes widening as he took in Utahime's form. "Is it coming out soon?"
"In a couple of weeks," Utahime replied, glancing at Shoko for confirmation though she knew her due date very well. The reality of it all still felt surreal—that a real, human baby was growing inside of her. Sleeping in the safety of Gojo's arms had helped dispel the nightmares that had plagued her before, but the feeling of precariousness never quite left her.
"Can I… can I touch it?" Yuji asked shyly, extending a hand toward her belly. "I've never known a pregnant woman before."
"Sure," Utahime smiled just as Nobara muttered "creep" behind Yuji and Megumi pulled a face. Undeterred, he placed his hand on Utahime's pronounced baby bump.
"Oh," he gasped, his eyes growing even wider. "Ohhhhh…"
"That's mine," Gojo growled menacingly from behind him, causing Yuji to jump and snatch his hand away.
"Oh, Gojo Sensei!" Yuji stammered, turning as red as a tomato. "I wasn't… I didn't mean to…"
Gojo wedged himself next to Utahime and glared at his student. "Nobody touches my son without my permission!"
Utahime rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. "It's fine, Gojo. He was just curious."
"That's what they all say," Gojo grumbled and placed a glass with water into Utahime's hand. "Hello, Shoko."
"Hey," Shoko greeted back with a smirk. "So, how many of those donuts did you eat?"
Gojo shrugged, a sheepish grin creeping across his face. "Just a few… okay, maybe more than a few. But they were really good!"
"Where, where?" Yuji excitedly craned his neck, grabbing both Nobara and Megumi by the arms and dragging them toward the table, almost crashing straight into Nanami, who was walking toward them with a donut in his hand.
"Don't eat all of them," Gojo said with a frown, his way of saying hello.
"They're excellent," Nanami replied with his usual dry tone, bowing politely to Shoko and Utahime. Then, turning to Gojo, he added, "We'll need you tomorrow for a mission."
Gojo pulled a face, his sunglasses slipping slightly down his nose. "I can't come, I'm feeling terribly unwell. And anyway, you have to start learning how to manage without me. I'm going to be a stay-at-home dad soon!"
Nanami sighed, his expression unmoving. "I doubt that very much."
"Excuse me?" Gojo bristled, eyes narrowing.
"Believe me, I know you," Nanami continued. "Because I tried to stay away. You'll be terribly bored in less than a week."
"No, I won't," Gojo pouted, crossing his arms like a petulant child. "Because there won't be just one baby."
Utahime gasped, feeling her cheeks warm with embarrassment. "Gojo!" she muttered, cringing. Sure, they were practicing enthusiastically for another child, but surely, he didn't mean it?
"I want about ten babies with Utahime," Gojo declared brightly, a wide happy grin stretching across his face.
Shoko burst into laughter, clapping Gojo on the back. "I wonder if Utahime wants the same thing! You know, having babies is hard work for the woman!"
"How many children do you want, Utahime?" Gojo turned to her with wide, hopeful eyes.
Utahime opened her mouth, but thankfully, she didn't have to respond. The lights dimmed, casting a soft glow over the room as the murmurs of the crowd quieted and people settled down in the chairs. Hiroshi had taken his place on stage, ready to begin his reading.
Hiroshi's voice carried through the room with a smooth confidence. The crowd was clearly moved, the emotional resonance of the passages hitting just the right notes. Utahime found herself immersed in the flow of the reading, even catching herself tearing up at certain points.
Michizane was gone from the world. His presence was no longer felt. She missed him in a way that was hard to explain—a sense of something greater slipping through her fingers, like cursed energy itself, thinning, fading, unraveling.
Suddenly, Gojo nudged her from behind. She turned, frowning, only to be met with a sight that was both ridiculous and endearing.
"Look at what I found," Gojo whispered, holding up a plush toy.
Ah, yes. The plushies. Someone had created little stuffed versions of Michizane no Sugawara, decked out in traditional robes with oversized heads and tiny bodies. The scholarly figure of historical lore had been transformed into an adorable, whimsical toy. Gojo was clearly delighted by it.
"He's cute, our Michizane," Gojo whispered again, making the plushie waddle across his leg like a miniature scholar on a mission.
Utahime's eye twitched. "You need to be quiet, Gojo," she hissed, trying to stifle a laugh.
But Gojo was undeterred, wiggling the plushie again with an exaggerated seriousness. "I'm just saying, he could teach some jujutsu too. Look at him—he's got that aura."
She pinched his arm lightly. "Behave, or I'm confiscating it."
He gave her a wounded look, but the playful gleam in his eyes remained as he settled back into his chair, still clutching the plushie like a prized possession.
They made it to the end of the reading without any major incidents. The crowd clapped enthusiastically, clearly moved by Hiroshi's performance. Just as Utahime was about to relax, Hiroshi leaned into the microphone and made an unexpected announcement: "My next book will investigate the rumors that the Zen'in and Gojo families are much more closely related than we commonly know! Stay tuned!"
Utahime's jaw dropped in shock. He had not just said that. A wave of stunned silence rippled through the room, followed by an explosion of gasps, murmurs, and whispers. She whipped around to Gojo, who sat there with the most infuriatingly smug grin plastered on his face. He met her gaze, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief as he winked, clearly reveling in the chaos that was now unraveling before them.
"You told him to…?" Utahime gasped, eyes wide, disbelief written across her face.
"No," Gojo replied, his grin stretching even wider, almost boyish. "Just something I might have mentioned in passing. Not my fault he's tasted fame and wants more of it!"
Utahime groaned, her hand going to her forehead. "Gojo, do you have any idea what kind of mess this could start?"
"Oh, I do," Gojo replied, waving a hand dismissively, as if the uproar surrounding them was merely an entertaining sideshow. "But I need to stay ahead of the game if I want you and my son to be safe."
Utahime opened her mouth to protest, but before she could form the words, Gojo leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. "Besides," he added, his eyes gleaming with mischief, "who doesn't love a good family scandal?"
"Gojo, we need to—"
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" he suddenly shouted, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
Utahime blinked, caught off guard. "Er… what?"
"We need to get married!" Gojo declared, his voice booming with enthusiasm. The room fell silent once more, everyone's eyes darting between the couple. "Properly this time!"
With a flourish, he pulled a stack of papers from his jacket, each one adorned with the seal of the jujutsu society. The sight was so unexpected that Utahime's mouth dropped open in disbelief.
"Gojo, are those what I think they are?" she asked, her voice low, mixing confusion with a hint of awe.
"Yup!" Gojo grinned, flipping through the documents like they were the most thrilling pages of a novel. "Marriage licenses, contracts, everything we need to make it official. It took them forever to get this approved!"
Utahime felt her heart race. "But here? Now?" She glanced around at the curious faces staring back at them, the room buzzing with energy as whispers began to swirl.
Cheers erupted from the crowd, their excitement palpable. "Do it!" someone shouted. "Get married!"
"Please say yes," Gojo pleaded, his eyes wide. "Please."
"But of course I'll say yes!" Utahime exclaimed, a rush of emotions sweeping over her—excitement, disbelief, and a warm glow of love. The moment felt surreal, yet completely right.
The crowd erupted into applause, the room buzzing with joyous laughter and cheers. Gojo's face lit up, and he pulled Utahime into a tight embrace, lifting her slightly off the ground as he spun her around. "We're really doing this!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with glee. "Look who's laughing now, Michizane! She is mine!"
Inside Utahime's belly, the baby kicked in response, as if sharing in the excitement of the moment—or protesting his father's ancestral blasphemy. Utahime was too happy to give this any thought. And even if she did, who was she to stop someone like Michizane no Sugawara from finding a way to preserve his soul throughout the ages?
After all, love had a way of intertwining the past and present, crafting new stories from old legacies, leaving behind whispers of history while forging a path toward a hopeful future. And this was a new beginning.
THE END