A/N: This chapter was absurdly difficult to write the first draft for. I rewrote so many parts of it several times until finally, today, everything clicked. The holiday season and the accompanying burn-out roughed me up for a bit. My creativity was zapped and that burn-out season hit something fierce...but we are okay now. I may have struggled with what I wanted this chapter to be for a while...but we finally got it together. I hope you guys will enjoy what's presented. I may have struggled, but it all came together in the end and I'm happy with what's here now. Hallelujah. Many thanks for your patience for this update. Best wishes and God bless you all.
Disclaimer: I'm too tired for this. The earlier chapters have the proper disclaimers.
Warnings: There's some heavy violence in the middle of this chapter. Also, the bulk of this chapter is, not exposition heavy exactly, but it's setting up some mystery elements. And, for some reason, I struggled writing Gojo's point of view in this chapter more than I have in any other in this entire story. Don't ask me why. I don't know. I have to be in a specific mindset to get into this man's head and that didn't even happen properly until this final edit. Hopefully he's still in character. I did my best. That man is a problem child. I love him, but he's a problem child. This whole chapter is kinda built around him and the beginnings of what will become major plot points later. Next chapter I'm writing comedic fluff for this mess. Be warned that this is a fairly long chapter too. Around 7,000 words. Enjoy!
Is this the path that will grant your soul peace?
…
I don't know. I'm not really concerned with that. This is simply the best way prevent you from harming anyone else.
…
We both know that isn't true. The best way would have been to...
Plunge this sword through you? Yeah. I thought about doing that, but your death isn't going to miraculously reverse the damage your actions cuased nor will it give me any answers about my sister's life.
Child…
This technique of yours will allow me to see how Angelica lived in that other world, right?
…
It will. But…
…
Then go ahead and use it on me.
You might not survive through the process, Miharu Kelmendi. Are these answers you seek worth that risk?
…
If we don't do this, Gojo will kill you. I'll lose my only chance at closure, and you will forfeit your only opportunity to make things right in this world and the one you left behind.
Even so...
It isn't enough to have remorse, Cosmos! This suicide mission you embarked on won't absolve you of anything! You want to make everything up to me? Face what you've done head on and stop running!
…
You're in no position to say such things.
…
I know. Our spirits are compatible for this because we're both cowardly beings.
…
But I'm tired of living in fear. It isn't enough...to just survive anymore. I want to live.
Because of Satoru Gojo?
...
No. He helped me, but I came here today of my own volition with the hope that I would get the opportunity to close the book on my past. I can't live with my full heart until I know the truth about everything...and not just about Angelica either.
...
I see.
...
He can sense where we are now. I scarcely managed to obscure the perimeter of my Domain from his sight, but it won't last much longer. You are aware that he can eliminate us both in an instant, right?
I am, which is why you should hurry.
…
Even if you survive…my power cannot protect you from Satoru Gojo. If he turns on you…
He won't. I know he won't.
…
You shouldn't trust him so easily.
Why not? He trusted me. We wouldn't even be here right now if he didn't. So, are we doing this or not?
…
…
…
I suppose we are. However, I will warn you once more that viewing the life your sister led through my eyes…will not grant you any peace. It will only bring you pain.
…
…
…
I can handle it. I've suffered through plenty to get this far.
…
…
…
Very well then. I hope you don't regret this.
December 16th, 2017
Shinjuku City District
2:00am
Miharu Kelmendi has been in the background of my life for over a decade, but I was never truly aware of this fact until tonight.
It's a bit embarrassing honestly. Six Eyes enhances my perception of everything, especially Cursed Energy. Blind spots should be utterly impossible, but it looks like Miharu's innate abilities are more complex than I first thought.
…
She really is a problem. A beautiful, irresistible problem.
…
In the summer of 2006, she was just a nameless, hot model posing on a beach. Her photo fit the vibe of the season just enough for me to change my home screen during that life-changing mission Suguru and I were so certain we'd accomplish. After all, up until that point, nothing we encountered had been able to stand toe to toe with us.
Deliver the Star Plasma Vessel to Tengen safely. That's all we had to do. It was a glorified babysitting mission really. I had no reason to take it seriously in the beginning.
That's not a mistake I'll make with Miharu. It would have been nice to write off our sudden relationship as some "love at first sight" fantasy, but things in my world don't work that way. Our meeting and subsequent bond isn't an accident of chance. Rather, it is a meticulous, malicious machination of yet another unknown enemy that's too weak and cowardly to face me head on.
It's a real pity that a man of my stature can't have anything nice without complications.
The worst part is that this nefarious scheme isn't even creative. Throughout two millennia of history and literature are countless tales of women leading men to their doom. It's literally the oldest and most predictable trick of mankind.
So that brings up a new question.
Who on this earth is stupid enough to throw this asinine bull at me? Is it some lame attempt to recreate the tragedy of Samson and Delilah? I suppose the parallels fit well enough since it's a story centered around a man of unparalleled strength.
No one could touch him in battle, but he was easily enticed by beautiful women.
Delilah was the most cunning among them, a real snake in the grass with all her secret plotting as she whispered promises of love in Samson's ear. Over and over, she begged him to reveal the source of his strength to her so she could covertly reveal it to his enemies.
Initially, he gave her false answers.
Each time she discovered his lies she would cry and claim he'd mocked her feelings. Didn't he trust her? Didn't he believe in their love?
…
Despite all the obvious signs of treachery, he did. He believed in their love so much that her tears eventually moved him to expose that his strength was tied to the length of his hair, for his hair had been a sign of promise from God. So long as a razor never touched his head, he would remain unbeatable.
But if the connection to God was ever severed…he would lose everything.
…
Trusting Delilah was a fatal error that culminated with the Philistines cutting his hair in his sleep. With his strength zapped, they plucked out his eyes, beat him to near death, and put him in chains.
Blind and desperate, he begged God to grant him strength one last time.
…
Samson's prayer was heard, but with that final burst of power…he destroyed himself and his enemies all at once.
Whoever set this all up expects Miharu to become my own treacherous Delilah. It's certainly a possibility, but I find it impossible to view her this way while she rests comfortably in my embrace with that cute little smile brightening her delicate features. Like this, she reminds me more of innocent Snow White with her billowing waves of raven hair, those succulent, peach-colored lips, and soft, pale skin.
No one would ever consider her a threat to someone like me. In a contest of strength...well, there is no contest. I'm the strongest. The best. Untouchable even if someone cuts off all my hair.
Unfortunately for me, our battle today couldn't be decided with physical prowess.
…
I have only "lost" one other time. The results of that were disastrous to say the least, but getting revenge for that was spectacularly easy.
This "loss" is different. It was already aggravating to watch someone break through the defense of my Infinity, but now there's additional disadvantages to contend with. Miharu is woefully ignorant of anything Jujutsu related. That lack of knowledge combined with her sincerity is something anyone who has beef with me can use. Squashing these issues promptly while maintaining my usual responsibilities is going to be a real pain.
Granted, it comes with some benefits.
"Hmm…"
That soft moan against my neck is an absolute treat.
"Someone's clingy," I mutter, pressing a chaste kiss against her temple when she unconsciously tightens her grip on me. "You think you can touch me anyway you want, don't you?"
Miharu obviously doesn't answer. I don't imagine that she's a heavy sleeper generally, but right now a stampede of elephants could trample through this apartment, and she wouldn't move a muscle. She's very exhausted from her big day of conquering old demons. Plus, she has a new relationship that will inevitably introduce her to a world of horrors nothing can prepare her for.
Frankly, clinging to me is her best chance at survival through it.
…
Have you even considered what any of this might do to her psyche? And what if our enemies discover that she can bypass your Infinity? What happens to her then?
Nothing. Nothing is going to happen to her.
…
You want to talk about trust?
…
Closing my eyes, I focus on the decadent sensation of Miharu's steady breathing against my skin to chase away the memory of Suguru's dying rasps.
Nanami was right. I shouldn't have let her sink her claws into my life so easily, but my sweetheart is like a warm, weighted blanket. Drawing her closer is a given amidst the bitter chill of cruel isolation.
…
Nothing will happen to her…because I need whatever this is between us.
…
But it's unsettling to know that our relationship was an anticipated outcome from a plan that's been in the works for a long time. That part of this scenario really sucks. I can't properly enjoy this budding romance with a diabolical villain acting as puppeteer.
Another quiet moan reaches my ear when I lightly brush my fingertips against her thigh.
...
She's going to make me weak if I'm not careful. Just like Delilah did to Samson.
…
Exhaling slowly, I open my eyes and center my focus on the printed documents of all the notable Curse and Sorcerer activities from Ireland scattered across my desk. Raking over and cross-referencing details of individual cases is work I would normally hand over to the research division, but having a multitude of eyes on this information would do more harm than good in what I aim to achieve here, which is to find information related to Miharu's bloodline without searching her family name directly. With an innate Cursed Technique that allows her to distort and absorb the Cursed Energy of others and the ease of which she befriends Shikigami like Tuna and even Special Grades like Cosmos, it's possible that her lineage is tied to an unknown clan of Sorcerers or Curse Users that operate within Ireland.
Finding the distinction between which faction she could belong to was easy enough. The original case file concerning Cosmos revealed the identities of Sorcerers sent in from Japan to investigate the disappearances caused by the wispy creature. At first, I considered that portion of my research complete, so I set that file aside until long after Miharu fell asleep.
On a second examination, which was done to double-check who had written the report, I noticed one key difference between the Cosmos file and all the others from Ireland that I printed.
The victims of that case are listed by number rather than name.
Yaga always hounds me to gather the names of any victims involved in the missions I partake in. This is done so family members are properly informed about deaths, hospitalizations, or safety in the aftermath of a mission.
It's the standard procedure. Every Sorcerer abides by it. Even me.
But this singular case has no names associated with it at all.
Naturally, after making this discovery, I looked over the symbols next to the numbers. In the usual reports, a series of symbols are used to signify the status of the victim or victims involved within any individual case. X equals deceased, O indicates a missing person, an H means a victim is alive but hospitalized, and an S means a victim is considered safe and/or able to return to their lives without lasting repercussions.
Out of the ten victims listed for this case involving Cosmos, Number 7 is the only one with an O next to their number. The rest were counted among the dead shortly after the investigation began.
Usually, once an investigation is considered closed, any O's that remain are changed to X's, but that didn't happen with this file even though it was updated as recently as two years ago by the original writer of report, another anomaly given several factors.
"Fujimura Haruto."
With my free hand, I reach for the first mission file he wrote. From 1984 to 2000, Fujimura wrote nearly every case file connected to Ireland. Stranger still…the cases in these files are all Grade 1 assignments he shouldn't have been attached to with his average rank.
It's a flimsy lead at best, but I've spent the last two hours picking apart every mission he had during his years of service. From what I've seen, his work in Japan is about as unremarkable as it gets. He started out as Grade 3 after graduating from Jujutsu Tech, was briefly promoted to Grade 2 in the spring of 1994, then demoted to his original rank at the start of 1995. He remained at that rank until his retirement in 2010.
Anyone who is lucky enough to retire from this field is prohibited from engaging in Sorcerer activities. That includes writing and updating mission reports.
So why was Fujimura permitted to update the Cosmos file? More importantly, how is an unnamed victim connected to a closed case still considered "missing" after two decades have passed?
Thanks to Miharu, I know Angelica Kelmendi is one of the nameless victims on this list, but there aren't enough details here to determine which number she was given with any accuracy, though I have a hunch that she's the "missing" victim.
Her eyes glowed in that vision Cosmos showed us. That's solid evidence that abnormal innate Cursed Techniques are tied to the Kelmendi bloodline. Someone obviously wanted keep that fact hidden. I would assume their parents are the progenitors of the secrecy.
"But if that's the case…"
"Hmmm…"
I glance down at Miharu again. Though still asleep, she isn't smiling anymore. She's probably getting uncomfortable in this position, but I can't move her just yet.
Having her sit on my lap earlier wasn't just a tactic to get her to relax, though obviously she needed to. And…maybe I could have just told her I needed a few minutes to study the flow of her Cursed Energy, but she probably wouldn't have liked me staring at her without blinking for all that time.
Watching it while she's asleep just felt like a better option. I mean, clearly she wasn't going to rest until she was in my arms again...and I couldn't resist another opportunity to feel how snugly her body fits against mine.
Within seconds of her passing out, I discovered that my Infinity is as ineffective against her in sleep as it is when she's awake. No attempt to extend its range and force her away, even by a fraction, worked.
I mean...I wasn't trying all that hard to put distance between us, but the point still stands.
There is some good news for me though. It turns out that she can't absorb Cursed Energy while unconscious, and with Cosmos' energy all but gone, my view isn't obstructed by any excess residuals, although I can see a portion of the energy she stole from me with all those kisses settling near her heart.
"You really like me, huh?"
Her response is a low snore that nearly sends me into a bout of hysterics, but I hold it in. Teasing my girlfriend can wait.
The important thing to take note of here is that her energy absorption technique is something that can be controlled. Now it's just a matter of teaching her how to do so.
…
Yeah. I'll teach her everything she needs to survive with me.
…
…
…
Miharu Kelmendi has been in the background of my life for over a decade.
...
Tonight, she's in my arms for the first time.
…
…
…
Eleven years ago, my mind was trapped in the euphoria of mastering Limitless. I couldn't mourn then. I couldn't respond to Suguru's anguish either.
All I could do was ask him whether he wanted to slaughter the people applauding a young girl's death.
Predictably, he told me there was no point in it.
The weight of the corpse in my arms disagreed with his assessment, but I didn't feel anything beyond the dizzying high of positive energy flowing through me at the time. A small, empty part of my heart might have wanted justice, hence why the suggestion was even given…but in the end I adhered to our agreement to refrain from killing needlessly.
…
Sometimes I wonder if that was another mistake.
…
Suguru ended up wiping out that stupid cult on his own later anyway.
…
Perhaps that was his way of punishing me. He left me out of his revenge. He took an impossible path of violence to usurp our twisted world in his own way, a methodology I could never understand from him of all people. Even now after all is said and done…I can't believe that was the path he chose.
The same man that preached at me to protect others…
…
The weeks following our failed mission were full of discovery and experimentation for me, and during that short season of bliss I became a machine for the system without any complaint because falling in line allowed me to expand the depths of my power more easily.
Between constant missions and training, there was little room for me to even notice the beginnings of Suguru's descent.
…
That's a lie.
I still noticed it. I have Six Eyes. I notice everything.
…
But I didn't want to get invested in his turmoil…because doing so meant facing my own.
…
When she walked into my room tonight, Miharu's eyes were the perfect picture of waning winds following a destructive tumult where nothing in its path survived. Such a soft, mournful gaze immediately dragged me back through a memory of a mission from that winter.
The emotional fallout of it struck me hard and fast. It's why I hung up on Nanami and stayed quiet when Miharu tried to act as if she hadn't been trying to eavesdrop on me.
...
That night...wasn't one I had wanted to remember. Ever.
Because...that dark night in Paris is the only night I mourned Riko Amanai.
...
But something else happened that night...something I'm glad I remember now.
Eleven Years Earlier
December 24th, 2006
Paris, France
11:45pm
His chest burns.
The irritating sensation has plagued him from the moment he awoke on the plane early that morning. He hasn't perfected teleportation across long distances yet, so traveling to other countries for missions tends to be an annoying process of dealing with the usual airfare shenanigans everyone hates.
Between security checks, the long wait to board his flight, and that one baby that wouldn't shut up the entire trip, Satoru Gojo hadn't been too surprised to wake up on edge.
What was weird was that the feeling hadn't lulled during the course of the day. After all, it was Christmas Eve and he was in Paris! The city of love and romance! Sure, he wasn't here for such things, but it was still a location he hadn't traveled to before, and that in and of itself should have been exciting, even if he was alone. He'd talked Shoko's ear off about how he was going to eat at every bakery and go to all the tourist attractions while she was driving him to the airport. He even told her he would bounce around the Notre Dame cathedral singing "Out There" from the Disney flick at the top of his lungs and post it online for her to watch. She had smirked and laughed before calling him an idiot. He had pouted and she had casually blown smoke in his face despite knowing he hated that.
Somehow all that led to them exchanging a series of heated kisses.
It wasn't something that was supposed to happen between them.
Gojo knew Shoko was in love with Suguru.
But knowing that hadn't stopped him from kissing her back. He can't say for sure why he had done it. He wasn't exactly thinking straight after she started unbuttoning his shirt.
Looking back on it now, he wonders why he isn't over the moon happy. Obviously Shoko's feelings changed, otherwise she wouldn't have thrown herself at him like that, right? And Suguru had never mentioned liking her, so it's not like he'd broken the bro-code or anything.
Did he feel guilty in spite of that?
Not really. He liked Shoko. He'd always enjoyed her company. He hadn't anticipated anything more from their friendship, and he didn't feel overly concerned about how their sudden make-out session before he left might change things between them either.
The more he thought about it, the more he knew that burning sensation was the result of a separate issue he couldn't pinpoint. Could it have been something he ate? No. He's got an iron stomach and a metabolism that burns through his calorie intake like fire through wood.
With all the possible options for what could have caused the irritable feeling out the metaphorical window, Gojo surmised that he should feel great. The long flight had allowed him to sleep for a few extra hours, the foreign city was decked out in holiday cheer from the decorations to the delicious smells wafting out from every shop, and he had even been given several free samples of rich, caramel filled chocolates while ordering a coffee and a sugar-coated crepe from a quaint cafe.
The desserts and coffee were among the best he'd ever had, but they didn't help improve his mood at all.
His chest kept burning.
And as the day wore on, the more annoyed he became at everything.
The music was too festive, the crowds too boisterous, and the smells too sweet.
He didn't go sightseeing before his mission like he had originally planned either.
...
It's not until hours later, while deeply entrenched in hunting down a Curse with a knack for psychological attacks, that he began to put the pieces together.
…
He's angry.
Viscerally angry.
…
Normally, Gojo enjoys fighting because there's a certain rush that comes with dismantling "powerful" Curses. To watch grotesque creatures out of a child's most ghoulish nightmares bow before him in terror never fails to bring a manic smile to his face. The adrenaline kick he gets is an easy high he can replicate anytime, anywhere so long as there are people with negative emotions crafting vicious monsters worthy of his talents.
But this battle is different. He isn't enjoying himself at all.
When he digs his fingers into the Curse's throat, crimson rivulets drip between his long fingers and down to the pavement. It's sight that would normally make him feel incredible, yet he feels no shred of satisfaction in watching the thing sink to its knees while it vomits up a bloody, undigested hand from a victim it'd snatched up earlier that night.
Gojo stares at it for a moment, his glowing eyes narrowing in confusion at the size of the appendage.
...
Was it child's hand?
...
A young girl's...
…
An invasive flash small hands holding up playing cards filter through his mind.
...
He's disgusted. Enraged.
Gritting his teeth, Gojo strikes the beast hard enough to send it sailing through the air and into a brick wall.
He doesn't use enough force to kill it outright.
After all, he can't keep torturing it if it dies too quickly.
"What's wrong?" he asks in his usual bright tone as he strolls casually through the narrow street. "Are you tired from all that rambling you did before?"
A low moan of pain escapes the hunched over creature. It starts to crawl along the concrete in a pitiful attempt at escape. The young Sorcerer had already broken its arms and one of its legs. It's not going anywhere, so Gojo continues to approach slowly, his expression a blank canvas of indifference hiding the wrath he can barely contain.
"Should I help you rest?"
Stopping before the creature's body, he raises his foot and slams it down against its neck.
He hears a tiny crack.
"I can see now why my predecessors had such a rough time with you," he barks, forcing out a sinister chuckle. "You're pathetically puny looking, but you certainly know how to hit below the belt. Some say psychological attacks are more damaging than physical ones, but I'm not sure I agree with that. What do you think?"
"Grrrrrr…."
"Huh? Speak up. Don't get all shy now."
He stomps on the creature's neck again.
"GRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAH!"
"Physical damage or emotional damage? Tell me which one you think is worse."
Growling furiously, the Curse makes one last attempt to crawl out of Gojo's grasp.
"Not gonna answer, huh? Fine."
With the force of his Limitless, he sends the weakened spirit hurling towards the wall again, but this time, he catches it by the throat.
"I don't really like listening to you talk anyway."
His next movement is to plunge his bloodied fingers through the monster's throat again. It tries to scream and wail, but the sound is muffled by the gurgling of blood oozing out from the new wounds.
"You would have been better off giving into your fate quietly," he whispers, clawing beneath layers of matted skin and muscle until he locates the creature's larynx. "I could have made this quick and painless with a single attack, but you couldn't help running your mouth." Another dark chuckle slips out even though he doesn't find any humor in the situation. "Came at me all cocky because you thought simple wordplay would give you the upper hand. Talk about stupid."
The Curse's waterlogged eyes widen in despair.
"So. Got any last quips? Make it snappy. I don't have all night."
Its lips curl into a wickedly joyous sneer.
"You...f-fail…ed…her..."
It's the last thing the creature says before Gojo starts to rip out its vocal cords one by one.
Through it all...he laughs.
He laughs because the psychological attacks did their job in dismantling his mind to a degree.
This is what the world sees when they look at him. A monster. A machine designed to destroy other monsters.
Why should he feel guilty because one girl died?
Why should he care that his best friend won't even look him in the eye anymore?
So what if he drowned himself in the embrace of a girl that only wanted him to chase away the pain of unrequited feelings and the never-ending stress involved with her abilities? Had he not earned some fun? He's spent every waking moment since that stupid babysitting mission burying himself in training and solo assignments. He's making a name for himself as the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer after all. He's at the top of his game taking down Curses no one else can.
And everyone looks at him like he's a god.
He doesn't need Shoko for casual sex. If he truly wanted that, he could pick any woman off the street.
He doesn't need an equal anymore either.
It's better that he's alone.
...
Because if he's alone...
...
...
...
Several minutes pass before he finally releases the corpse in his grasp. It slides down the brick, leaving a black smudge in its wake as it begins to fade from existence.
His Six Eyes ablaze with malice, Gojo fights to catch his breath.
…
His chest still burns.
Because...if he's the strongest...he should have been able to save her.
But he didn't.
…
He didn't save her because he hadn't been strong enough.
...
...
...
As soon as the Curse disappears, Satoru Gojo throws back his head and screams.
The Veil is still in place. No one hears him. No one sees the blood he's drenched himself in trying to escape from his grief.
...
Riko Amanai was prepared to sacrifice her life to merge with Tengen…but she had wanted to live.
…
She didn't choose to be a vessel.
…
He hadn't chosen to be the strongest either.
…
Disregarding the importance of his role within their society was the reason he couldn't save her. He just wasn't careful enough. He wasn't mentally prepared for defeat or to find himself completely helpless.
…
He survived through his weakness.
He eliminated Toji Fushiguro too.
But none of that was for Riko's sake.
…
Even when he found her body…he felt nothing.
…
And he had wanted it to stay that way. It was easier to move forward if he didn't acknowledge how unfair her death was.
She was weak. That's what happens to weak people, right?
…
But she was strong too. She wanted to live. She was passionate and kind. She was funny. She enjoyed every day like it was her last.
Not once did she complain about merging with Tengen…even though it was obvious she was scared to do it. She was terrified of losing herself.
…
Gojo had respected her courage.
…
Now he's too afraid to have a real conversation with his best friend and too full of pride to admit that he's hurt too.
Shoko using his body for comfort only compounded that feeling of emptiness.
…
It's better that he's alone. Nothing can hurt him if he's alone, right?
...
Clenching his hands into tight fists, Gojo floats to the roof of the building directly above the alleyway. The second he lands, he dismantles the Veil, allowing the sights and sounds of Paris to reach him once more.
He needs to stop thinking about this. Riko died months ago now. There's no point in dwelling on it. She's gone.
But the thoughts don't stop.
...
Screaming helped to ease the uncomfortable ache in his chest…but it wasn't enough to get rid of it entirely. He's starting to wonder if it'll ever go away.
…
A soft wind rustles his hair while he fixes his gaze on the full moon casting its glow across the quieting city.
Gojo hadn't known Amanai long, but he had liked her. She was a good person who should have lived to experience the good things this world had to offer. Things like crepes and caramel filled chocolates or strolls through a peaceful town and the festive atmosphere of Christmas in a foreign land.
So much was taken away from her...and for what?
...
"You would have liked Paris, Riko."
...
Inhaling allows the putrid stench of the Curse's blood to invade his nose.
…
He needs a shower.
…
Sighing, he pivots on his heel to teleport back to this hotel, but from the corner of his eye...
…
He sees her.
A woman with flowing ebony tresses and luminous grey eyes that reflect the anguish simmering inside his own heart.
…
The air leaves his lungs as a fierce gust of wind blows past, chilling him to the bone while he watches the woman stare at the same moon from behind a broken window. It doesn't matter that he's standing a few hundred feet away from where she is because his Six Eyes narrow their focus until she's all he sees.
Crystal tears flow down her cheeks even as she smiles.
His breath catches in his throat.
…
Something about her instantly reminds him of Riko, but that isn't the reason he continues to stare at her. He's captivated by a shimmering, silver glow that hovers around her entire body, making her sparkle brilliantly in the moonlight even as his gaze drifts from her eyes to the curves hidden beneath the white, terrycloth robe she wears.
…
He knows she's not wearing anything beneath it.
…
The way Gojo feels in this moment is akin to King David seeing Bathsheba for the first time. A yearning he's never known sears through him in that moment, demanding he teleport over to her window and charm his way into her bed for the night.
Yes, an evening of fleeting passion with no ties to the world of Jujutsu would grant him a temporary reprieve from the weight of those responsibilities he can't ever hope to run from no matter how much he might want to.
…
Gojo knows she would let him have her. He knows because he can easily see the loneliness and grief hidden behind that forced smile.
…
It mirrors his own sadness so potently that he thinks he might understand why some novelists prattle on about instant connections in their stories regardless of how unrealistic they sound...because...for a few seconds he believes this is what love feels like.
…
But then he remembers the blood clinging to his skin.
…
He's a killer. An unfeeling monster. A weapon to be used.
…
He's never been protected. Not even once.
...
At eighteen, he's just barely old enough to understand how cruel the world of adults truly is.
It wasn't a world he had wanted to protect. He just wanted to live as he pleased.
...
Amanai changed his perspective on this, and, while watching the familiar-looking woman gaze up at the moon, Gojo thinks he might finally understand what Suguru tried to tell him so many times before.
This understanding keeps him still until she disappears from the window.
...
"It was nice to gaze at the moon with someone for once," he murmurs after she's been absent for a while, a soft laugh on his lips as he shakes his head of any ideas to pursue her. "Merry Christmas, beautiful. Until the next time we can gaze at the moon together, live well."
Teleporting away, Gojo hums a soft melody that will remain in his heart long after the memory of the night fades.
Present Day
December 16th, 2017
Shinjuku City District
2:38am
How was I to anticipate a conflict for control over my heart when no one thought I had one to begin with?
Even I forgot for a while.
Using a woman to deliver a man to his doom is the oldest and most predictable trick of mankind, and perhaps the simplicity of such a tactic is why I find myself in a precarious position.
…
Miharu Kelmendi has always been a danger to me…even when I had no idea who she was.
Reuniting with her today has rekindled every desire I discarded.
...
She's even more beautiful than she was on that night. Nothing in the world could make me forget her now, not after everything she's done to dismantle the man I thought I was. Silly girl doesn't even realize she unwittingly started a war between us in giving me all these reminders of things I simply cannot afford to think about.
I have to take back the advantage somehow, if it isn't already too late.
"Mhmm…"
Recognizing this moan as one of clear discomfort, I loop my free arm beneath Miharu's knees and rise from the rolling chair while maintaining a firm hold on her. Tuna scampers back into the room around the same time, making a ruckus as I carry her to my bed.
"H-huh? Sa…toru." Her eyes twitch open briefly. "What are you…"
"Shh," I command gently, tightening my grip on her with one hand while stretching out an arm to pull the comforter and sheets back from the mattress. "Go back to sleep."
"Meow!"
"And you stop making so much noise," I groan, glaring at the cat as I carefully set her down. "Mommy needs her rest."
"Don't mind him," she mumbles. "He just wants cuddles."
As if to emphasize her point, Tuna leaps onto the bed and quickly nestles himself into her waiting arms just before I lay the blankets over them both.
It's a picturesque image…a beautiful woman sleeping next to a cuddly pet.
But this isn't a creature ordinary humans see.
"Should…I be jealous of the cat?"
She's snoring before I even get the question out.
So, rather than go back to my research immediately, I sit down next to Miharu's sleeping form and study the Shikigami for any signs of malevolence. He doesn't notice me watching at first, mainly because he's too busy trying to bury himself in the fold of her arms, but the instant he's comfortable, he peers up at me with an expression of confusion.
"Hey. Fatty."
He growls lowly.
"I heard from a colleague that you led Miharu into that Veil today," I say softly, narrowing my gaze on him. "Was that on purpose? Did you set us up?"
The demon cat growls a little more fiercely as he raises his paw.
"Don't try it, buddy. You can't touch me."
"Meow."
"Oh? Insulted that I'm accusing you of leading your precious master into danger?"
He waves his paw vigorously in affirmation.
"Not sure if I buy it," I say, lightly flicking his little forehead. He tries to bite my finger in retaliation, but his teeth have no luck piercing through Infinity.
"Hahaha!"
"MEOW!"
"Broomstick Man…"
Lifting my gaze from the Shikigami grants me the sight of Miharu's tired eyes boring holes in my flesh.
"Yes?"
She pats the empty space next to her. "When you start interrogating the cat…it's time to sleep. Get in here."
"As tempting as that is…"
"Aren't you tired?" she interrupts, extending her hand to brush her fingertips against my wrist.
…
The same touch that started this whole thing.
…
"I thought you said you weren't sleeping with me tonight," I answer when she scoots over to give me room to slide under the covers. Though a bit hesitant to join her given the work I need to get done, it would be rude to deny such a tantalizing invitation.
"I'm not," she moans, closing her eyes once I'm lying down beside her. "I'm sleeping next to you. Totally different."
"Meow…"
Chuckling at Tuna's expression of irritation, I reach out to push a few loose strands of Miharu's hair away from her face.
"You shouldn't be such a tease, darling."
"And you shouldn't be such a good pillow," she murmurs groggily, breaching the small gap between us to lay her head against my chest.
"I can't help that I'm basically perfect," I murmur, tracing light patterns along her scalp.
A small sigh escapes from her parted lips.
"You're not perfect…you're a dangerous, scary menace."
My fingers pause in their motion through her hair.
"Is that right?"
Lifting her face toward mine with a groan, she presses a quick kiss to my cheek.
"You're a goofy Broomstick Man too," she adds, barely audible when she lays her head back down. "As far from perfect as it gets...and I like it that way."
…
"I like you too, Miharu."
…
…
…
Her breathing evens out quickly, ending the brief conversation between us. I continue rubbing circles along her scalp absentmindedly while listening to the low rattle of the cat's purring.
It's another picturesque moment of domesticated bliss.
…
Is it greedy of me to want more of this?
…
Staring up through the skylight directly above our heads, I watch the full moon shine upon us with no regard for that question's answer.
Miharu Kelmendi, a woman who has been in the background of my life for over a decade, has undoubtedly inflicted me with the world's most twisted curse.
And I can't wait to do the same to her.
A/N: Whew! My brain is burning again. Thank you all for reading. Feel free to leave your thoughts and feelings in a comment if you wish. Feedback is appreciated...especially at this point with my brain burning and all. I thought the earlier chapters were difficult but all of them together were a cakewalk in comparison to this one beast of a chapter. Anyway, until next time, best wishes and God bless you all. If you ever get antsy about updates with this story or others of mine, I do have a YouTube channel for you guys to check out if you want. The channel name is Lillymu961. I post a variety of content on there. Would explain more...but my brain is BURNING.