runeruinrequiem

[runeruinrequiem]

aether & ash - getting their phone numbers [ smau ]

Route: All 6

Warnings: Mentions of injury, slightly suggestive language.

Aether & Ash Masterlist

[runeruinrequiem]

aether & ash [ geto route masterlist ]

ACT 1

Origin [ Gojo & Geto - Combined Introduction ]

Getting Their Number [ All 6 - SMAU ]

ACT 2

TBA

ACT 3

TBA

[runeruinrequiem]

aether & ash [ gojo route masterlist ]

ACT 1

Origin [ Gojo & Geto - Combined Introduction ]

Getting Their Number [ All 6 - SMAU ]

ACT 2

TBA

ACT 3

TBA

[runeruinrequiem]

aether & ash - origin.

Route: Gojo & Geto - Combined (Introductions)

Word count: 6.4k

Warnings: Mentions of battling and slight mentions of injury.

Masterlist | Read the previous part for Toji & Nanami here.

The past two weeks had felt like living inside a whirlwind you hadn’t signed up for.

Ever since that chaotic day during the Ignis tour—the day Toji accidentally launched a fireball at you while sparring with Maki—your life had been anything but quiet. It was as if the entire Academy had collectively decided you were their favorite topic of conversation. 

Not that the attention had ever fully gone away, but just as the gossip had begun to taper off into background noise, boom. That rogue fireball reignited the firestorm. Literally and figuratively.

Now? You couldn’t walk through a corridor without someone trying to stop you. You’d practically become a professional at ducking into side passages, vanishing into shadows, or pretending to be very interested in your coursework just to avoid conversations. Honestly, if the school held a hide and seek championship, you’d probably win by a landslide.

People you’d never so much as glanced at before were now all smiles and curiosity, trying to weasel their way into a chat. But it was never just small talk. No, everyone wanted to ask the same thing: the fireball, the way you defended yourself, and, most importantly, your magic.

Apparently, magic that was purely shadow-based wasn’t common, even among your fellow Nocturne students. The fact that you had instinctively thrown up a shadow shield fast enough to partially block such an advanced Ignis spell? Yeah, that didn’t go unnoticed. And now, your name was floating around in whispers, like some kind of urban legend in the making.

Between all of that, you’d found yourself returning to Lumen more often than you expected. Shoko had helped clean and dress your burn each time, welcoming you into the quiet Lumen Sanctum with tea and a touch of dry humor. 

Yuji, on the other hand, had made it his personal mission to check in on you every chance he got. Sometimes he even showed up unannounced in the Abyssal Archives with snacks or dumb jokes that didn’t always land but somehow still made you laugh.

And then there was Choso. Somewhere between study sessions in the Abyssal Archives and your shared distaste for social noise, the two of you had formed a tentative alliance—one that had slowly, to your own surprise, evolved into something resembling real friendship.

In fact, it was safe to say that the three of them—Shoko, Yuji, and Choso—had quietly carved out a place in your life. Which was kind of wild, considering you’d come to the Academy dead set on not making any friends.

But even with that growing circle of comfort, something about the days following the fireball incident felt… off. You couldn’t explain it in concrete terms. No evidence, no shadows flitting through the halls, no suspicious footsteps behind you. Just a feeling. That unnerving, stomach-coiling certainty that someone was watching you. Even when you were alone. Especially when you were alone.

It settled over your shoulders like a second cloak, weightless but impossible to ignore.

Creepy didn’t even begin to cover it.

The only place where that persistent, unsettling feeling didn’t seem to follow you was the Abyssal Archives. Within those quiet, ancient halls, where the air felt thick with knowledge and shadows clung to every corner, you felt at peace. It had become your refuge, the one space on campus where you could breathe freely without constantly glancing over your shoulder. Lately, you found yourself there more often than anywhere else.

At the moment, you were settled in your usual seat at a long oak table tucked deep in the Archives. Choso and Yuji were both sat across from you. In front of you lay an open tome filled with ancient runes and sigils, the first of three that Choso had recommended nearly a month ago when you'd first met. 

Despite the hours you’d spent flipping through its pages, you hadn’t found the sigil you were searching for—the one that had been etched into your memory since the night your parents vanished without explanation. It lived behind your eyelids, haunting your thoughts. You were sure you'd recognize it instantly, but so far, no luck.

Thankfully, you still had two more books to go. You hadn’t even cracked them open yet. There was time.

You let out a quiet yawn, stretching your arms high above your head before leaning back into your wooden chair. A satisfying pop echoed from your spine, and you exhaled with relief. After hours of poring over diagrams and translations, your eyes were dry and your brain was starting to fog. It was probably time for a break.

You leaned forward, gently closing the book before turning your attention to the two boys across from you. Yuji and Choso were in the middle of a quiet but heated discussion. They were both hunched over a sheet of parchment filled with stars, constellations, and messy notes, their voices little more than tense whispers.

“You’re supposed to mark the position of the Orion cluster relative to the horizon, not center it on the paper like it’s the main character,” Choso muttered sharply, tapping the edge of the chart with a pencil.

Yuji jabbed his finger at the page in defense. “Okay, but this way shows its symmetry better! It’s aesthetically balanced.”

“You’re not sketching a poster, you’re charting stellar movement.”

“Potato, po-tah-to.”

You couldn’t help the quiet laugh that bubbled from your throat. Without a word, you leaned forward and smoothly plucked the parchment from beneath Choso’s hand, ignoring their simultaneous indignant noises as you held it up for inspection. Your eyes scanned the notes for a moment, and then you pointed to a specific notation on the corner of the paper.

“If you shift the horizon line here and rotate the whole chart about ten degrees, you can keep the symmetry Yuji wants and still follow the actual assignment instructions.”

Yuji’s eyes widened. “Wait, really?”

Choso stared at the chart, then gave a small, grudging nod. “She’s right.”

You handed the parchment back to them with a little smirk. Yuji took it sheepishly, mumbling a quiet thanks, while Choso gave you a look that was almost impressed.

You watched in silence as Yuji carefully made the changes you'd suggested, his brows furrowed in concentration and tongue slightly peeking out. His handwriting, though a little messy, was surprisingly neat where it mattered, and he took extra care as he rotated the star chart and redrew the constellation lines. Once satisfied, he sat back with a grin, clearly proud of the result.

You let out another yawn and pushed your chair back with a soft scrape against the stone floor. “I think I’m gonna head out and take a nap,” you mumbled, stretching your arms above your head with a quiet groan.

Yuji looked up at you with a theatrical pout, his lower lip jutting out dramatically. “Awwh, really? I was just about to ask if you wanted to come watch the third-years spar!”

You paused mid-stretch, blinking down at him. That was unexpected. “What do you mean?” you asked, brow arching in mild curiosity.

His face immediately lit up like someone had flipped a switch. You could practically feel the excitement rolling off him. Yuji was always animated, but something about this made him downright giddy.

“Every month, all the third-years meet up in the Hall of Echoes for a big sparring exhibition,” he explained eagerly. “It’s like a mini tournament, kind of. They show off everything they’ve learned, test out new techniques, and just... go all out. Most of us first and second-years go to watch. It’s basically a tradition at this point.”

You folded your arms loosely across your chest, considering it. “And the fourth-years don’t go?”

He shrugged. “Not usually. I guess they’re too busy with their final projects or just think they’re above it or something.”

You tilted your head, still torn. A part of you really wanted to see what your fellow third-years were capable of, especially after witnessing Toji and Maki sparring during your tour. But another part of you hesitated, unsure if you could handle being in another crowd. You already stood out enough.

“So... that’s happening tonight?” you asked, glancing over at the tall clock built into the Archives wall. It was getting late, and a nap still sounded tempting.

Yuji nodded enthusiastically. “Yep! They always serve snacks, too, so you won’t miss dinner or anything.” Then, without warning, he dramatically leapt over the table, landing on his knees in front of you like some overexcited anime protagonist. You blinked, startled, as he clasped his hands together and gave you the most exaggerated puppy-dog eyes you’d ever seen. “Pleeeease come with me?” he begged. “I can finally introduce you to Megumi and Nobara!”

You stared at him for a long beat, watching him practically wag his metaphorical tail. Of course he had more friends he wanted to rope you into meeting.

With a long-suffering sigh, you relented. “Fine. But only if I don’t get hit by another rogue fireball.”

From across the table, Choso let out a rare chuckle. “Don’t worry,” he said calmly. “The Hall of Echoes is layered with more protective wards than any of the House Sanctums. You’ll be safe there.”

Now that was actually good to know.

“Are you going too?” you asked, glancing over at Choso with a curious tilt of your head.

He looked up from his book, the soft amber glow of the reading lamp casting faint shadows across his face. He gave a small shake of his head, his dark hair shifting slightly with the motion.

“No, not tonight,” he said. “I’ve got some research I need to finish. But maybe next time.” He offered you a small, apologetic smile.

You nodded in understanding. “Alright. I’ll see you later, then.”

Before Choso could respond, Yuji was already tugging at your sleeve, practically vibrating with impatience. He ushered you quickly out of the Archives, not even giving you time to grab your coat from the back of the chair. His grip was gentle, but his pace was relentless, and you found yourself nearly jogging to keep up.

The two of you hurried through the Hall of Shadows, the dim corridors lit by flickering enchanted lanterns that lined the dark stone walls. It was quiet here, the air cool and still, a stark contrast to the lively hum you could already hear in the distance.

As you exited the hall and stepped out into the open grounds of the Academy’s central district, the energy shifted. The air was alive with murmuring voices and laughter, students milling about in small groups, most of them moving toward the large, looming structure just ahead: the Hall of Echoes.

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in shades of indigo and rose. The spires of the Academy cast long shadows across the lawn, and the glowing lanterns suspended in the trees blinked to life, floating gently above the crowd.

Across the grassy expanse, you could see students filing into the Hall’s towering archway, their faces lit with excitement.

“Nobara!” Yuji suddenly shouted at full volume beside you, making you flinch as his voice cut through the twilight air. He winced at your reaction and gave you a sheepish, apologetic grin. “Sorry, I get excited.”

You rubbed your ear lightly but nodded, letting him drag you along through the thinning crowd. You followed him toward a girl standing near one of the old stone benches that ringed the common yard.

She looked to be around Yuji’s age, dressed in a dark wash jeans and a fitted blouse. Her auburn hair was neatly styled in a sleek bob that framed her sharp cheekbones, and her honey-brown eyes narrowed slightly as you approached. She looked you over once, then glanced at Yuji.

“Hey,” he said brightly, “this is the new student I was telling you and Megumi about!”

You met her gaze and offered a small but sincere smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Nobara gave a small nod, her expression softening just a little as she returned the smile. “Likewise,” she said simply, before shifting her attention back to Yuji. “Megumi said he’s running late, so we should just go in without him. He’ll catch up.”

Yuji let out a dramatic sigh at the mention of Megumi’s delay, clearly disappointed. “Alright, fine,” he muttered, though the glimmer in his eye told you he wasn’t actually upset. “But we’re saving him a good seat.”

The three of you merged seamlessly into the flow of students entering the Hall of Echoes, swept up in the quiet hum of excitement that filled the air. You stayed close to Yuji and Nobara as you passed beneath the towering arched entryway, the thick stone doors propped open to welcome the crowd inside.

The interior of the Hall had been completely transformed for the evening’s event. What was normally a grand, echoing chamber used for assemblies and formal gatherings now resembled a full-blown stadium. At the heart of the vast space stood an elevated sparring platform, roughly the size of a basketball court and built from dark gray stone etched with intricate runes. You recognized a few of them—sigils of protection, rapid healing, and impact absorption—clearly placed with care to ensure safety.

The platform was surrounded on all sides by tiered stone bleachers that climbed high into the vaulted ceiling. About halfway up the seating, you spotted standing platforms—small, elevated decks fitted with sturdy railings and spaced out evenly across the stands. 

These areas seemed tailored for students who wanted a clearer view or preferred to stay on their feet. Some of the platforms had small food carts nestled against the walls, manned by various staff members handing out drinks and snacks.

All around the room, floating sconces hovered in midair, their golden flames glowing steadily without smoke. They cast the entire space in a warm, ethereal light that flickered off the polished stone walls.

Yuji took the lead, confidently weaving his way through the growing crowd. You and Nobara followed closely behind as he climbed a set of stone steps leading to one of the standing platforms a few rows up. The platform offered a perfect vantage point of the sparring stage, and the scent of grilled food wafting from the nearby cart made your stomach rumble.

“We can sit here,” Yuji offered, motioning to a small row of stone seats situated just behind the platform. “But we usually stand for this—it’s easier to see everything.”

You stepped forward and placed your hands on the cool railing, leaning slightly to peer down at the stage below. “I’m fine with standing,” you replied, eyes scanning the space. The buzz of anticipation in the air was infectious, and for the first time all day, you felt something close to excitement stirring in your chest.

You found yourself zoning out for a while, lulled by the ambient noise and flickering light, content to simply lean against the railing and take it all in. Beside you, Yuji and Nobara had fallen into a rapid-fire exchange, whispering animatedly as they pointed toward various groups in the crowd and tossed playful bets back and forth about who might be called to spar and who would come out on top. Their energy was infectious, but your mind was elsewhere, your gaze sweeping across the steadily filling Hall of Echoes.

From your elevated vantage point, you had a clear view of many of the students and faculty already settled in. Toward the far side of the bleachers, you spotted Nanami sitting with a brown-haired guy whose name escaped you. 

The two seemed to be in the middle of a lively conversation, though Nanami wore his usual calm and composed expression while the other guy gestured and spoke with an enthusiasm that reminded you of Yuji. Shoko sat just beside them, her posture relaxed, a small, amused smile playing on her lips as she listened quietly to whatever the other two were discussing.

A little further off to the left, your eyes caught on another familiar pair—Toji and Sukuna. The two of them were laughing openly, shoving at each other’s shoulders with the kind of reckless ease that only came with shared chaos and long familiarity. Of course those two were friends. You scowled instinctively, your stomach turning slightly. Before either of them could glance your way, you tore your gaze from them and looked literally anywhere else.

Toward the opposite end of the bleachers on the other side of the hall, you noticed a few more recognizable faces. Maki was seated with two other students you vaguely remembered being from House Aether—Yuta, with his soft demeanor and gentle expression, and Inumaki, who sat quietly nibbling on something skewered. 

Nearby, Mai Zenin, Maki’s twin and your fellow Nocturne student, was lounging on a bench with her arms crossed. On either side of her were two other girls you hadn’t yet gotten the chance to meet: one with wild blonde pigtails and another with soft powder-blue hair, both laughing about something.

The soft hum of conversation and distant laughter cut off in a single moment when a dense plume of black smoke curled upward from the center of the sparring stage. The crowd let out a collective cheer, students immediately falling into excited murmurs as the smoke dissipated to reveal Headmaster Delacroix standing tall beneath the golden sconces.

“Welcome, welcome!” His voice carried through the Hall with unnatural clarity, likely boosted by some kind of amplification spell. “To our monthly Third-Year Exhibition, where skill meets spotlight and where tomorrow’s legends sharpen their blades today. As tradition dictates, the winner of last month’s final match will open tonight’s event and has earned the right to select any fellow third-year for their first match.”

He paused, letting the suspense linger for effect.

“With that, I invite Satoru Gojo to the stage!”

The response was deafening. You turned your attention back to the sparring platform just in time to see a tall figure emerge from the crowd. He moved with a kind of easy arrogance, his steps slow and deliberate. Tousled white hair framed a striking face, and his eyes, an almost unnatural, vivid blue that sparkled with mischief as he grinned at the crowd like he owned the world.

You looked over at Yuji, silently asking for clarification with a raised eyebrow.

He grinned knowingly. “That’s Satoru Gojo, House Solara. Same House as Nobara. He’s, like, the golden boy of the Academy. Top of his class, crazy powerful, and basically loved by everyone.”

Nobara leaned forward around Yuji, her tone dry and sarcastic as she caught your eye. “Don’t let the fan club fool you. He’s good, yeah, but he’s also the most insufferably cocky guy you’ll ever meet.” She rolled her eyes. “Believe me. The praise goes straight to his ego.”

Yuji let out a quiet laugh. “I mean, fair. But he’s been cool the few times I’ve talked to him. He’s laid-back and friendly enough. Just really confident, I guess.” He gave a lopsided grin. “Anyway, yeah. Since he won last month’s sparring event, he gets to go first tonight and pick his opponent. It’s kind of a tradition.”

You nodded, eyes drifting back to the sparring platform where Gojo stood, soaking in the energy of the crowd like a performer basking in the spotlight. Despite his relaxed posture and easygoing demeanor, there was a sharpness behind his bright blue eyes. He was clearly thinking carefully about who he wanted to call out.

“Who do you think he’ll pick?” you asked, keeping your voice low as you studied him. His gaze swept across the crowd, pausing now and then like he was taking mental notes.

Nobara folded her arms, her brows drawn together slightly in thought. “Hard to say for sure. But if I had to guess? He beat Toji last month, and that was a big deal. After something like that, the winner usually picks someone who’s either close to the last opponent or someone from the same House, which means he’ll probably choose Sukuna since he and Toji are like, best friends.”

Your eyes flicked over to Sukuna, who looked completely at ease. He lounged in his seat with his arms stretched over the backrest, a faint smirk on his face like he was already enjoying the show. 

You leaned forward slightly, curiosity piqued as you waited to see who Gojo would choose. He was still scanning the crowd, his gaze drifting lazily over the sea of faces. Then, without warning, his eyes found yours. For a second, he seemed to pause. A slow, knowing smirk curled across his face, and the shift in his expression was unmistakable.

A chill swept down your spine as your stomach twisted with unease. You didn’t even need to look around to feel it: more than half the Hall had turned to follow his line of sight. Dozens of eyes landed on you at once, and it was like a spotlight had been thrown your way.

Yuji inhaled sharply beside you. “Oh, shit,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he turned to glance at you with wide, sympathetic eyes.

From the platform below, Gojo’s voice rang out in a lighthearted, teasing drawl. “Hey, princess. I’ve been hearing all sorts of things about you lately.” He grinned up at you, his tone casual but unmistakably pointed. “Figured this was as good a time as any to introduce myself, don’t you think?”

You stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. “Do I have a choice in this?” you asked under your breath, turning to Yuji and Nobara in a quiet panic. So much for trying to stay low-profile.

Nobara gave a tiny shrug, her expression apologetic. “Technically, yeah. You can turn him down. But it’s kind of an unspoken rule that if you're a third-year and you show up to the match, you’re fair game. Most people assume you’re willing to be picked.”

You stared at her like she’d just spoken in a different language. “I didn’t even know these sparring matches existed until, like, an hour ago.”

Nobara winced. “Yeah, that’s... rough timing.”

You turned your head slowly and leveled a glare at Yuji, who visibly shrank beneath your stare. He raised his hands in a small, sheepish gesture of surrender, his smile tight and apologetic.

“You owe me for this,” you muttered, your voice low with pointed frustration.

Yuji nodded quickly, already backing away a step. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. Big time. I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

Letting out a long sigh, you brought your fingers to your temples, rubbing slow, deliberate circles in an attempt to stave off the stress headache building behind your eyes. Meanwhile, Gojo’s voice echoed through the Hall again, louder and more impatient this time.

“Let’s go, princess! We don’t have all night!”

You closed your eyes briefly, trying not to let the dozens of stares get to you. Alright. If this was happening, you might as well make the most of it. While in Rome, right? No point in slinking onto the stage like a nervous first-year. If Gojo wanted a show, he’d get one.

In a blink, the shadows curled around your ankles, rising like smoke and swallowing your form in a quiet rush of magic. One moment, you were standing on the platform beside Yuji and Nobara. The next, you were at the center of the sparring stage, facing Gojo directly. The teleportation spell left behind a shimmer of residual shadows that curled and faded like mist at your feet.

It was a simple maneuver. One of the first pieces of magic you had mastered as a child. Quick, smooth, and dramatic enough to leave an impression. Judging by the murmur of voices rippling through the crowd and the sharp gleam of surprise in Gojo’s widened eyes, it had worked exactly as intended.

Gojo let out an amused laugh that echoed through the Hall, the sound drawing even more attention from the onlookers above. He tilted his head, his expression shifting into something curious, and began to slowly circle you. His steps were smooth and deliberate, every movement oozing confidence as his sharp blue eyes never left yours.

“Impressive,” he said, voice silky and low with interest. He moved like a predator, relaxed but alert, as if waiting to see what you’d do next.

You narrowed your eyes, your body rotating with his as he circled, arms folded tightly across your chest. The scowl etched into your face deepened, and you made sure to keep him in your line of sight, not trusting for a second that he’d wait before making a move.

“Are we going to spar,” you asked, voice laced with irritation, “or are you just going to stand there staring at me all night?”

Gojo grinned in response. “Bit of both,” he quipped. Before you could reply, he vanished.

A sudden flare of golden light ignited just behind you. You spun on instinct, shadows coiling from your fingertips and exploding outward in a wide arc. Gojo blinked back with a smirk, his body wreathed in flickering radiance. He threw his hand out and a whip of sunfire cracked through the air, barreling straight toward you.

You raised your arm. A shield of shadows surged up from the ground, absorbing the strike with a hiss, the magical pressure crackling through the air. You dropped the shield just in time to see Gojo vault into the air, his figure outlined in light. With a flourish, he hurled a barrage of blindingly bright projectiles down at you, magic shaped like daggers of sunlight.

With a quick pivot, you sunk into a pool of darkness, your form melting into the shadows. You reappeared several feet away in a blur of motion, just as the daggers detonated where you had been standing. The force of the explosion lifted bits of stone and dust into the air, but you were already back on the move.

“Not bad,” Gojo called, landing effortlessly on the other side of the sparring stage. “Quick reflexes. Very Nocturne of you.”

You didn’t dignify him with a response, only narrowed your eyes and reached out with your magic. Shadowy tendrils rose like smoke around your feet, then snapped forward like whips. Gojo ducked, twisted, and with a burst of sunlight, shattered the tendrils mid-air.

“Flirty and fast,” he teased.

You lunged at him this time, a blade of condensed shadow forming in your hand. He parried it with a barrier of golden energy, the clash sending ripples of force across the stage. You didn’t let up—twisting around, you released a pulse of shadow magic at his feet, attempting to bind him.

Gojo grunted as his ankles were momentarily snared, but with a snap of his fingers, the bindings burst apart in a flash of light. “You’re full of surprises,” he muttered, grinning like a kid at a festival.

“You talk too much,” you shot back, dancing around another wave of light and retaliating with a concentrated blast of darkness.

The sparring grew more intense as minutes passed, yet it never lost its edge of playfulness. Gojo was clearly holding back, but not in a way that made you feel underestimated. He was testing you, reading your rhythm, adapting, and challenging you to do the same. And you did.

Through it all, Gojo kept smiling. Every parry and dodge, every witty comment thrown across the stage—it was a dance, and you were starting to enjoy the music.

Your chest heaved from exertion, a faint sheen of sweat beginning to gather at your temple. Still, you met his next strike with a grin of your own, shadow colliding with light in a dazzling explosion.

The Hall of Echoes had fallen mostly silent, hundreds of eyes fixed on the two of you as your battle continued.

And for the first time since arriving at the Academy, you weren’t thinking about staying hidden.

You were thinking about how alive you felt.

You could tell Gojo was enjoying himself. The way his eyes sparkled with amusement, the slight curve of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, and the casual tone in his voice all pointed to someone who thrived in the thrill of a good challenge. Every movement he made was deliberate yet effortless, like he was putting on a show just as much as he was trying to win.

The two of you were evenly matched. Each clash of magic was like a carefully rehearsed routine, light meeting shadow in sharp bursts of energy that sent faint ripples through the air. Gojo moved with a dancer's grace, weaving radiant spells into his attacks, while you answered with sleek, agile strikes laced in darkness. Neither of you held back. You ducked, twisted, countered, every breath and step timed to the rhythm of the fight. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, your limbs burned with exertion, but you didn’t dare let up.

For a moment, it felt like this sparring match might never end. Every time one of you gained the upper hand, the other found a way to reverse it. You could sense the anticipation from the crowd growing with each exchange.

Then you saw it.

Gojo had gone for another flashy maneuver, twisting into a wide arc of blinding light. It was impressive, no doubt, but he left himself exposed for just a second too long. His front foot faltered slightly as he shifted his weight to recover. It was all you needed.

You surged forward, shadows coiling around your legs to boost your speed. In a blink, you were beneath his guard. You ducked low to avoid the final burst of light and swept his legs out from under him with a tendril of shadow. He hit the ground with a soft thud, stunned just long enough for you to close in. You dropped down, knee planted over his chest, and formed a blade of dark magic in your hand. The sharp edge hovered just inches from his throat.

Gojo’s eyes widened briefly in surprise, before the same grin returned, brighter than before. He let out a breathless laugh, one hand rising to push his damp hair away from his forehead.

“Well played,” he panted, smirking up at you. “You fight well—deadly and dramatic. I like it.” He flashed you a toothy grin, eyes glinting with admiration, and threw in a cheeky wink for good measure.

You rolled your eyes, suppressing the grin tugging at the corners of your mouth, and stepped back. As you rose to your feet, you dusted yourself off, brushing away nonexistent debris with exaggerated flair. The applause that followed was distant, like a faint buzz beneath the blood still pumping in your ears.

You hopped off the stage in one fluid motion, landing lightly on your feet and ignoring the chorus of voices that rose around you—students eager to talk, to praise, to ask questions. You had no interest in entertaining them right now.

Instead, you tilted your head up toward the bleachers, eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on the familiar shapes of Yuji and Nobara. A third person had joined them now—a tall figure with dark, spiky hair and a cool, observant expression. That had to be Megumi.

You gave Yuji a quick nod and a small wave. He returned it with a grin, raising a fist in a silent cheer. You took that as your cue to slip away, the adrenaline slowly draining from your body as you turned to leave.

— — —

If you had thought the attention after the fireball incident with Toji was overwhelming, it was nothing compared to the chaos that followed your victory over Gojo.

In the hours and days that followed the sparring match, it felt like the entire Academy had turned its gaze directly onto you. Whispers trailed behind you like shadows in every hallway. Students you had never seen before, let alone spoken to, stared openly as you passed; some with awe, others with thinly veiled jealousy. Even professors had begun eyeing you with a new kind of scrutiny, murmuring in hushed tones when they thought you weren’t listening. A few even stopped you outright to ask questions about your training, your background, and how exactly you managed to outmaneuver someone like Gojo.

It wasn’t just curiosity anymore, it was obsession.

The buzz around campus didn’t die down. If anything, it escalated. The duel had become the talk of every House common room, every study group, every lunch table. More than once, you had been followed through the halls by clusters of first-years hoping to catch a glimpse of you, or worse, ask for pointers.

You had never considered yourself claustrophobic. Crowds had never bothered you before. But after the third time in a single morning you were cornered just trying to grab a cup of tea, a knot of unease began settling in your chest. There was no quiet anymore. No real space to breathe. The weight of constant attention pressed in on you from every direction, and you couldn’t shake the growing itch under your skin that came with it.

If this was what fame felt like, you wanted no part of it.

The moment you could slip away from the endless parade of questions and attention, you did.

You didn’t head toward the House Sanctums, or even the Abyssal Archives. Too many people. Too many chances someone would stop you before you made it halfway there. Instead, you took the narrow path that wound up the side of the western tower, your feet moving on instinct more than thought. 

No one ever really went to the Celestial Observatory—at least, not often. It wasn’t tied to any House, and aside from the Astronomy students who occasionally used it for night sky charts, it was all but forgotten in the day-to-day bustle of the Academy.

Perfect.

You pushed open the heavy arched door and slipped inside, letting it fall shut behind you with a low thud that echoed faintly in the vast, circular chamber. The air was still, quiet, and carried a faint scent of parchment and old stone. 

Overhead, the glass dome offered an unobstructed view of the dusky sky, stars just beginning to flicker to life in the indigo haze above. Golden filigree in the shape of constellations traced the dome, catching the last bits of sunlight and reflecting them across the floor in delicate patterns.

You exhaled, tension melting from your shoulders as the silence wrapped around you.

Finally, peace.

But it didn’t last long.

That strange, crawling sensation returned. Like invisible eyes were watching you, tracking your every movement. It wasn’t like the attention from the students or staff. This felt heavier. Focused. Intentional.

You turned sharply, eyes narrowing as you scanned the shadows near the tall brass telescope. A figure leaned casually against one of the support beams, as though he had been there the entire time. You hadn’t heard him come in.

He stepped forward, the light from the dome catching on the gold trim of his black clothing. Shoulder-length dark hair framed his face, and there was something sharp yet calm in the way he regarded you.

“Sorry,” he said smoothly, voice carrying a rich, easy warmth. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

You didn’t move, not yet. “You’ve been watching me.”

He smiled at that. “You’re very observant.”

You crossed your arms. “Who are you?”

“Suguru Geto, from House Aether,” he said, offering a slight bow that felt oddly formal. “I was curious about your shadow magic. You don’t see that kind of control often.”

You studied him in return, unsure whether to be wary or intrigued. “I’ve had good teachers.”

A quiet hum escaped him. “I believe it. Your magic is refined. Intuitive. You don’t just use it, you seem to understand it.”

The compliment threw you off a little. Most people had only been interested in the spectacle of your abilities, not their depth. You glanced away, stepping closer to the railing that overlooked the lower floors of the tower. “I’ve spent a long time learning how to balance it.”

“Shadow magic is complex,” Geto said, following your gaze. “It thrives in subtlety. Control it too tightly, and it recoils. Let it go, and it swallows you. Light and dark aren’t enemies, they’re part of the same breath. Opposing forces dancing on a single thread.”

You turned your head slightly, genuinely surprised. “You study balance?”

“I study power. And balance is a kind of power most people overlook.”

That made you pause. Of all the people who had approached you lately, none had spoken to you like this. Like they weren’t trying to dissect you or claim you. Just... understand.

You found yourself relaxing, just a little. “It’s not always easy. The shadows want to consume. You have to know when to let them guide you, and when to guide them.”

Geto nodded slowly. “Exactly. You’re walking a knife’s edge between becoming something monstrous, or something extraordinary.”

You tilted your head, a faint smile playing at your lips. “You always this philosophical with people you’ve just met?”

His grin returned, softer this time. “Only when they’re worth talking to.”

And strangely, despite everything that had happened over the past few days, talking to him didn’t feel forced or awkward. His presence was calm, almost serene.

The conversation between you and Geto flowed with surprising ease, drifting from magic theory to observations about the Academy, and even to a few scattered comments about the stars overhead. He had a way of speaking that made even the most abstract ideas feel grounded, his voice low and measured, laced with curiosity rather than judgment. Time slipped by unnoticed, until a yawn crept up on you, catching you off guard.

You rubbed at your eyes and glanced toward the arched door. “I should probably head back,” you said, your voice softer now, reluctant. “If I don’t sleep, I’ll fall over myself tomorrow.”

Geto inclined his head, a faint smile still resting on his lips. “Understandable. Though I admit, it was refreshing to talk to someone who doesn’t see the world in black and white.”

You moved toward the doorway, pausing with one hand on the cool handle. “It was… nice speaking with you,” you said honestly, turning back to look at him one last time. “Really.”

His dark eyes held yours for a moment longer, something thoughtful behind them. “Likewise,” he replied. “I hope this won’t be the last time. The Observatory is... Nicer, with company like yours.”

You offered a faint, tired smile and nodded, stepping into the hallway beyond. The heavy door closed behind you with a soft thud, leaving behind the calm of the Observatory, and the lingering warmth of a conversation that had made you feel, even just for a little while, like yourself again.

[runeruinrequiem]

aether & ash [ toji route masterlist ]

ACT 1

Emergence [ Toji & Nanami - Combined Introduction ]

Getting Their Number [ All 6 - SMAU ]

ACT 2

TBA

ACT 3

TBA

[runeruinrequiem]

aether & ash [ nanami route masterlist ]

ACT 1

Emergence [ Toji & Nanami - Combined Introduction ]

Getting Their Number [ All 6 - SMAU ]

ACT 2

TBA

ACT 3

TBA

[runeruinrequiem]

aether & ash - emergence.

Route: Toji & Nanami - Combined (Introductions)

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: Mentions of injury.

Masterlist | Read the previous part for Sukuna & Choso here.

It was, by all accounts, a beautiful day. The sun hung high and radiant in a perfectly cloudless sky, casting golden light over the ancient spires and sweeping courtyards of Erythraen Academy. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees that dotted the campus, carrying the faint, melodic chirping of birds. Students lounged on sun-warmed stone benches, books in laps or laughter spilling out in bursts of idle conversation. The Academy grounds felt alive, practically humming with energy.

And yet, instead of enjoying the rare calm of the weekend, you were stuck dragging your feet behind a crowd of overly-enthusiastic first-years on a scheduled campus tour.

Two days ago, Headmaster Delacroix had cornered you just outside the dining hall, one hand on your shoulder and the other holding a clipboard filled with what you now realized had been your doom.

“You’ll be joining one of the orientation tours this Saturday,” he’d said in that perpetually chipper voice of his, the one that was beginning to grate on your nerves.

Your first thought had been: What in the hell for?

Your second: Don’t first-years get the whole tour during their first week?

You’d voiced the latter out loud, hoping for an out. Delacroix had only chuckled, his shoulders lifting in a good-natured shrug. “Most of the time, yes. But in the first couple of months, we like to run additional tours. You’d be surprised how many students don’t learn where Lumen’s Sanctum is until they’re in the process of bleeding half to death or spend months not realizing there’s a closer bathroom right down the hall from their classrooms.”

And so, here you were. Trailing at the very back of the tour group, baking beneath the afternoon sun, surrounded by the chatter of wide-eyed first-years who clearly hadn’t discovered the soul-crushing reality of homework yet. The two staff members leading the tour looked about as thrilled to be here as you felt. One kept glancing at their pocket watch every three minutes. The other hadn’t stopped yawning since you left Aether.

You had, at least, taken some liberties with your participation. You’d entirely skipped the portion of the tour for House Nocturne—you lived there, after all. You’d also ducked out during parts of the central campus walk-through, including the Celestial Observatory and the student commons. You already knew where those were, courtesy of your own wandering. You weren’t completely lost all the time.

The tour had since wound its way through the various sanctums—Nocturne, Solara, Umbra—and had just finished up with Aether. You were honestly glad to be done with that one. The whole Sanctum was suspended on floating islands connected by glittering starlight bridges, and even though it was objectively stunning, the sensation of walking over what looked like clouds and illusion magic made your stomach churn. You silently thanked whatever Gods were listening that you’d ended up in House Nocturne, where at least the ground didn’t feel like it was about to vanish beneath your feet.

It was approaching three in the afternoon now, and the once-charming warmth of the day had turned into a stifling heat. Sweat was beading at the nape of your neck, sliding down your back beneath your shirt. Your feet ached, your head throbbed, and of course the tour’s next destination was the hottest, most sweltering part of the entire Academy.

House Ignis.

Even deeper in the mountain than Nocturne, Ignis was built into the heart of the caldera itself. Rivers of lava flowed like molten veins through caverns of obsidian and jagged stone, geysers hissed and spewed steam at random intervals, and the air always carried the acrid tang of sulfur and heat. It was a place carved from fire and forged in discipline, and from what you’d gathered, the students who called it home wore their toughness like armor.

You hadn’t interacted with anyone from Ignis personally, though then again, you hadn’t interacted with many students outside of Nocturne at all, save for Choso, who had somehow become a steady and welcome presence during the after-class hours you spent in the Abyssal Archives. Still, from what you’d observed, Ignis students were loud, confrontational, and built like they were constantly on the verge of challenging someone to a sparring match. Or a wrestling contest. Or maybe both at once.

You wiped a bead of sweat from your brow as the stone beneath your feet began to warm with the telltale signs that you were getting closer.

Great. Just what you needed.

A guided sauna experience.

You knew you were entering the Ignis Sanctum the moment the massive statue of their house mascot came into view. Towering at what you had to guess was nearly 10 feet tall, the gryphon loomed at the mouth of the Sanctum’s entrance, casting a long, intimidating shadow across the obsidian walkway. Its wings were half-spread in a regal, frozen pose, talons embedded deep into a jagged plinth of smoothed volcanic stone. 

The entire sculpture had been chiseled from reinforced obsidian and basalt, veins of cooled magma snaking across its surface like battle scars. But it was the eyes that truly captured attention: glowing with a molten red light, like liquid fire trapped behind the carved lids. You were almost certain they were enchanted, their steady, pulsing glow far too lifelike to be natural.

The heat hit you in waves as you passed beneath the gryphon’s outstretched wings, like stepping into a furnace with every step forward. The temperature down here was on another level. Suffocating and thick, with a constant undercurrent of steam and sulfur wafting up from vents and fissures in the ground.

“Okay, everyone! Stay close together, please!” chirped one of the guides, a tall woman with her hair frizzed out from the humidity. Her bright, chipper voice didn’t quite mask the way she dabbed sweat from her temples or how her smile looked a little too tight around the edges. “Ignis has plenty of magical wards and structural protections in place, so you don’t need to worry about falling into lava or anything too dramatic. But still, let’s be mindful! We’re guests in this Sanctum, after all.”

A ripple of nervous energy spread through the group. The cluster of first-years instantly tightened formation, several of them glancing around at the winding rivers of lava glowing faintly through cracks in the stone floor. The fear on their faces was almost comical, like they thought they'd spontaneously combust if they so much as stepped wrong. 

You had to bite back a laugh. They hadn’t looked nearly as terrified floating over bottomless sky-voids in Aether, and that had been a waking nightmare. Lava, at least, stayed on the ground.

Still, you inched closer to the group, not out of fear, but because the last thing you needed was to draw the attention of the tour guides. You weren’t trying to stand out, not here, not now. The sooner this tour ended, the better.

As the group ventured further into the heart of the Sanctum, the scenery shifted into glowing walls of tempered glass revealing magma chambers below, overhead steel walkways suspended by thick iron chains, and thick columns of dark rock reinforced with runes to keep the structure stable. The air buzzed with a kind of raw energy, vibrant and visceral.

Then came the sounds: clashing steel ringing out rhythmically, mingled with bursts of laughter, grunts of exertion, and the occasional cheer or shout. Somewhere deeper within the Sanctum, students were sparring. You could hear the unmistakable tempo of practice fights; blades meeting blades, bodies slamming into padded mats, the bark of an instructor keeping cadence.

Of course they were training. It was the weekend, after all. What else would House Ignis do with their free time but hone their bodies and burn off their energy in combat?

Out of the corner of your eye, a flash of vibrant pink hair caught your attention, a painfully familiar shade that immediately set off alarm bells in your mind. Your whole body tensed on instinct, breath hitching slightly as your head turned just enough to confirm what you already dreaded.

You’d been dodging Sukuna like your life depended on it for the past week, ever since that encounter in the Abyssal Archives. You hadn’t even hesitated to burn the note he sent with his ridiculous message and that stupidly drawn winky face. 

Tossed it into a candle the second you were back in your dorm and watched it curl into ash. Since then, Sukuna had made more than a few attempts to corner you: passing glances in the halls, appearing at places you swore he shouldn’t be, lingering a little too long at the edges of your vision; but so far, you’d managed to avoid direct confrontation.

Bracing yourself for yet another unwanted encounter, you turned fully, narrowing your eyes and preparing a verbal arsenal of biting comebacks.

Only to be met not with that smug, infuriating grin, but with a completely different energy altogether.

The boy with the same pink hair had a bright, open face and wide, honey-brown eyes that sparkled with warmth. He looked like the human embodiment of a golden retriever: enthusiastic, a little clumsy in presence, but somehow disarming. His smile was genuine, radiating good intentions, and he looked nothing like the smirking bastard you’d been expecting, aside from the unmistakable hair color. It was enough to make you pause.

Was he related to Sukuna too?

“Hi, Yuji!” chirped one of the tour guides, her face lighting up when she spotted him jogging over to the group. She looked both surprised and relieved by his presence. “Did you need something?”

The boy—Yuji, apparently—grinned, his cheeks dimpling as he waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, just thought I’d tag along! Y’know, in case anyone had questions or got lost or something.”

The guide chuckled and turned back to the group. “This is Yuji, everyone. He’s a second-year and a member of House Ignis.”

A murmur of polite greetings followed, but your eyes stayed on him. He fell into step at the back of the group, right near you, his movements relaxed and casual. You made a conscious effort to ignore him as the tour resumed, but your efforts were in vain, because after only a few minutes, he turned toward you.

“Hi, I’m Yuji!” he said brightly, with that same warm smile.

You raised an eyebrow, expression carefully neutral. “Yeah. I gathered that.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that was so endearingly awkward it almost made you feel bad. “Right, sorry! I just wanted to properly introduce myself.”

You blinked. Why? Why did he care?

You tilted your head slightly, the question slipping out before you could stop it. “Why?”

Yuji laughed softly, like he’d been expecting that. “I mean… I’m sure you’ve heard it already, but news about new students travels fast. And, uh… my brother’s mentioned you a few times.”

Your brows rose slightly. His brother? You narrowed your eyes again, cautious. “And who’s your brother?”

“Choso!” he said, a little too proudly, as if that alone should clear things up.

Relief flooded through your chest like a cool breeze. Not Sukuna. Thank the Gods. Though the resemblance still itched at your brain, since he didn’t look like Choso at all. His eyes, his smile, the shape of his face… they were a dead ringer for the person you’d gone out of your way to avoid.

Yuji must have caught the confusion in your expression because he added, “Choso and I are half-brothers. Different dads.”

Ah. That explained it. If he and Sukuna shared a father, and Choso didn’t, then it all made sense. You nodded, relaxing your shoulders just slightly.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Yuji,” you said finally. “Choso’s mentioned you a few times, actually.”

It was true. In the handful of brief interactions you’d had with Choso over the last week in the Archives, he had brought up his younger brother on more than one occasion. Never by name, but always with a fondness that made it clear just how much he cared. You didn’t know much about Yuji yet, but judging by that bright smile and the easy way he carried himself, you could tell that affection went both ways.

“I’m sure he has,” Yuji said with a light laugh, his voice warm and easygoing. He slid his hands into the pockets of his red jacket like it was the middle of a breezy autumn afternoon, not the lava-simmering sauna that was the Ignis Sanctum. 

You glanced at him sideways, baffled. How the hell was he wearing that in here? You were sweating through your shirt, and he looked like he could curl up in a blanket and still be comfortable.

“Anyway,” he continued, completely unaffected by the heat, “if you ever need anything—directions, help with assignments, someone to walk you somewhere—I’m usually around. Just say the word!”

There was something about the sincerity in his voice that made it difficult to brush off. No hidden motives, no calculated charm, just a guy genuinely offering to help. You gave him a small smile, appreciating the sentiment despite your instinct to keep people at arm’s length.

“Thanks,” you replied, nodding. “I’ll remember that.”

The conversation trailed off naturally after that as the tour group came to a slow halt near the edge of the largest sparring arena in the Sanctum. The moment your eyes landed on the pit, any lingering thoughts of conversation vanished.

Two Ignis students were already in the midst of a match, going at it with such raw intensity that it was almost jarring. The clang of steel against steel echoed through the air, each blow laced with enough force to send sparks flying. You couldn’t even tell if they were fighting seriously or if this was just sparring—because if it was, it was unlike any sparring session you’d ever seen. Their movements were aggressive, precise, and brutally fast, almost like a dance choreographed by chaos itself.

It was both mesmerizing and mildly terrifying.

The two duelists shared enough similarities that you could tell they were likely related. Both possessed sharp green eyes that burned with intensity and focus, and both had dark hair, though the man's was slightly tousled while the woman’s was pulled back into a high, no-nonsense ponytail that swung with every strike.

The man was towering, easily over six feet tall, with a broad chest and muscular frame that showed years of rigorous training. Every movement he made was precise and explosive, his toned arms flexing as he wielded his blade with terrifying ease. As you observed him more closely, you noticed a thin scar tracing the corner of his mouth, faint but distinct.

His eyes were narrowed in deadly focus, lips curled into a sneer, and teeth clenched in a silent growl. Despite his size, he moved with a speed that felt inhuman.

His opponent, though much smaller in stature, was equally commanding. She was compact and agile, her lithe frame seemingly built more for speed and finesse than brute force. Her dark ponytail whipped through the air as she struck and dodged with terrifying grace. Every step she took, every calculated shift of her body, reminded you of a predator—fluid, sharp, and deadly. She moved like a cobra, uncoiling with lightning-quick precision, her strikes aimed not just to block, but to disable.

Yuji leaned in slightly, his voice kept just above a whisper, clearly trying not to disturb the rest of the group as they watched the intense sparring match unfold. “The guy is Toji Fushiguro,” he murmured, nodding subtly toward the taller of the two fighters. “And the girl is Maki Zenin. Toji’s a third-year—scary strong—and Maki’s in my year. Technically, they’re both from the Zenin family, but... well, it’s complicated. Toji’s father basically cut him, his mom, and his brother off from the family when they were still kids.”

You blinked, your eyes flicking between the two combatants again with renewed interest. That explained the similar features, then—the shared eyes, the dark hair, the matching fire in their expressions. But it didn’t explain how Yuji knew so much.

“How do you know that?” you asked, your tone more curious than skeptical as you glanced up at him.

Yuji perked up, his usual brightness flickering through despite the heat. “Oh! Toji’s younger brother, Megumi? He’s my best friend.” He said it with some sort of pride, like that one connection explained everything. And maybe it did; Yuji seemed like the kind of guy who made friends quickly, and then held onto them with everything he had.

You hummed in understanding, offering Yuji a small nod before shifting your focus back to the sparring match. The air around the arena was thick with anticipation, the heat of the Ignis Sanctum adding an almost electric tension to the already charged environment. 

Everyone around you seemed entirely absorbed in the match—the way Maki struck like a whip, the way Toji moved like a beast unleashed—so much so that nobody noticed when Toji summoned a surge of flame in his palm, hurling it straight toward his opponent.

Except Maki dodged.

Easily.

And then the fireball was no longer aimed at her.

You didn’t even have time to think. Your instincts kicked in just a heartbeat too late, your hand snapping up to conjure a barrier of shadow—a flickering, half-formed shield of dark tendrils curling upward in a desperate attempt to protect yourself. It absorbed most of the blast, but not all of it. The fireball slammed into the barrier with a dull thwump! shattering against it like a wave crashing on rock. Still, the heat tore through, licking past the edges and searing across your forearm.

The pain was immediate.

White-hot.

Blinding.

You gasped, the sound tearing from your throat as you stumbled backward. A hiss escaped your clenched teeth, and your vision tilted, the edges going dark and static-rimmed as your hand hovered over the scorched skin. You barely registered the horrified gasps from the group or the way the world around you muffled into a low buzz, like someone had thrown a blanket over reality. You swayed where you stood, body reacting faster than your mind could catch up.

Yuji was suddenly at your side, arms steadying you before your legs could fully give out. His voice, low and frantic, cut through the noise like a lifeline, grounding you.

“Hey—hey, it’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re alright,” he said, voice taut with concern.

You leaned into his support, focusing on breathing through the pain, through the heat, through the burn that pulsed with every heartbeat. Slowly, the world came back into focus, first the sharp metallic tang of scorched air, then the blurred shapes of the people around you.

One of the first-years looked green in the face, clearly seconds away from retching. That, at least, was a welcome distraction.

Your gaze dragged upward to meet the wide-eyed expressions of the tour guides, who had rushed over in panic, and then to the familiar green-eyed pair now looking down at you: Toji and Maki, both having stopped their sparring, their weapons forgotten in the dust behind them.

“Shit, ’m sorry, you okay?” Toji asked, already ducking under the low chain separating the sparring platform from the onlookers. His voice was gruff, edged with guilt, and he looked genuinely stricken as he stepped in front of you, palm outstretched.

Still shaky, you extended your injured arm toward him without speaking.

He took it gently in his hands, tilting it for a better look at the scorched skin. His jaw clenched. “Damn... You took that like a champ,” he muttered under his breath. “Most people would’ve blacked out from a burn like this. You need a healer. Now.”

Yuji stepped in again, his grip firm but careful as he glanced toward the tour guides. “I’ll take her to Lumen,” he offered quickly. “That’s your next stop anyway, right? If she’s healed up by the time you get there, she can just meet back up with the group.”

The guides exchanged quick nods, clearly relieved that someone was stepping in to take control of the situation. Without wasting a moment, Yuji gently adjusted his grip on you and began leading you away from the growing crowd, his pace steady but careful not to jostle you too much.

As you walked, Yuji launched into a series of bad jokes and animated anecdotes, talking almost nonstop in an effort to distract you. He recounted how he'd once tripped headfirst into a fountain during training, and how it took a week to get the fish smell out of his hair, how Megumi had threatened to drown him in a different fountain if he ever did it again. You barely caught half of what he said, your mind fogged over with the ache pulsing in your burned arm, but the effort wasn’t lost on you. 

It helped. Even if just a little.

The heat of Ignis faded with every step, giving way to cooler air and the gentle scent of blooming flowers. And then, you saw it.

The Lumen Sanctum rose before you like something out of a dream.

It was breathtaking, with towering white marble walls that gleamed under shafts of golden sunlight, interwoven with vines of ivy and flowering plants that spilled from high terraces and wrapped around carved columns and elegant archways. Every surface seemed to glow with a soft luminescence, as though the entire Sanctum was kissed by the sun and blessed by something ancient and pure.

At the heart of the expansive courtyard was a massive stag statue sculpted from pristine white marble, so lifelike it seemed like it could move at any moment. Its silver antlers shimmered with a soft internal light, like liquid moonlight frozen in time. Out of all the Sanctums, Lumen’s was by far the most beautiful.

Yuji didn’t pause to admire it, though. He clearly knew the layout well, navigating you through the tranquil, open-air corridors that wrapped around inner gardens and shallow pools. The water in those pools was so clear it mirrored the sky perfectly, and koi fish swam lazily beneath lotus blossoms.

Eventually, you reached a secluded garden space, where a large koi pond circled a raised platform. In the center stood a gazebo made of the same radiant marble, its domed roof entwined with flowering vines and the soft hum of gentle enchantments. A curved bridge connected the gazebo’s small island to the rest of the walkway, and Yuji guided you across it without hesitation.

As your feet touched the other side, a calm, feminine voice called out from within.

“Yuji? How can I help you?”

You both looked up to find a woman seated beneath the gazebo, her posture relaxed but alert. She sat at a wide table that looked more clinical than decorative, lined with neat rows of crystal vials, gauze, healing stones, and glowing sigils etched into the surface. 

The space was peaceful but unmistakably functional. It made sense, really—Lumen’s Sanctum wasn’t just a place of beauty and peace; it doubled as a healing ward, and the gazebo clearly served as one of its many informal triage stations. A mix of nature and care, serenity and structure. It was odd, but fitting.

Yuji nodded in greeting, his voice light but edged with concern. “Ah, my friend here got burned during the tour of Ignis. Caught a fireball that wasn’t meant for her.”

You wordlessly pulled away the cloth you’d been using to cover your arm, revealing the angry red burn still pulsing with heat.

The woman rose from her seat the moment she saw your injury, crossing the marble floor to stand before you. Her eyes, a tired but perceptive shade of brown, flicked down to your arm as she gently took it in her hands. Her touch was clinical but not cold, surprisingly gentle as she turned your wrist slightly, inspecting the raw, blistering burn.

“Well,” she murmured, her voice low and soothing as a breeze through tall grass, “Nanami will be back shortly with more gauze. But for now, let’s get this cleaned and stabilized before it gets worse.”

“Thanks, Shoko,” Yuji chimed in from behind you, his voice a little softer now, more respectful. He took a few steps back, giving her space, though you could still feel his gaze lingering, concerned but not intrusive.

For the next ten minutes, Shoko worked quickly but effectively. She guided you to sit on one of the cushioned benches lining the gazebo, rolling up your sleeve and carefully dabbing at the burn with a cool, herbal-scented solution that immediately took the edge off the sting. 

She applied a golden salve next, something that shimmered faintly in the sunlight, and as she smoothed it over the wound with her fingertips, you felt a tingle—a soft, internal hum—as if the magic was gently knitting your skin back together. Not fully, though. The worst of the burn was dulled, but not gone.

“Why can’t you heal it all the way?” you asked, your voice hushed, half from the pain and half from not wanting to disturb the quiet atmosphere in the gazebo.

Shoko offered a small shrug as she continued working. “I’m still training. My healing magic only works up to a certain threshold. I can stabilize injuries, close wounds, maybe ease internal damage, but... full restoration? That’s above my current pay grade.”

You nodded slowly, your curiosity tempered by the dull throb in your arm and the overwhelming calm of the garden around you.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Yuji shift suddenly, posture straightening, face lighting up with a flicker of recognition and eagerness. The way his expression changed was almost comical—if he had floppy ears and a tail, they’d be at full attention.

A moment later, the reason for his excitement stepped into view.

A tall, broad-shouldered man entered the gazebo, sunlight catching on his short, neat blond hair and the frames of his glasses. His expression was unreadable, though the hard line of his jaw and the subtle squint of his eyes said enough—he was assessing, calculating, already drawing conclusions before a word had even been spoken.

You felt yourself tense slightly as his gaze swept over you and Shoko, finally landing on your injured arm.

“What happened?” he asked, voice low and even. Without waiting for an answer, he stepped up beside Shoko.

“She got burned while touring Ignis,” Shoko explained calmly as she took the neatly folded gauze from the man, who you realize must be Nanami, and resumed tending to your arm.

Nanami said nothing, simply watching her work with practiced detachment. You could feel his gaze on you, but it wasn’t invasive. More like he was mentally cataloging your condition, filing it away like a case note.

Shoko moved with the same steady hands she’d used the entire time, winding the gauze smoothly around your arm, layering it with gentle but firm pressure to protect the injury and keep the ointment in place. The cloth was soft, surprisingly cool, and the way she secured it with a slim strip of medical tape was quick and clean, like she’d done this exact motion a thousand times.

“There,” she said, stepping back and wiping her hands on a nearby cloth. “You should be good for now.”

You pushed yourself up from the bench slowly, testing the stiffness in your arm as you stretched. The pain was dulled now, manageable, though you could still feel the heat pulsing beneath the gauze.

“Thank you,” you murmured, offering her a tired but genuine smile. “I really appreciate it.”

Shoko gave a small nod, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, no problem. Just… be more careful next time, alright? Ignis is beautiful, but it’s also dangerous if you’re not paying attention. That said, if you ever need healing again, Lumen Sanctum is always open. You’re welcome anytime.”

She gestured toward a small, glimmering crystal embedded in the nearest marble column. “And if Nanami or I aren’t here, just press that button. It’ll send out a call to whichever one of us is closest.”

You glanced at the crystal, noting how it glowed faintly. Convenient. 

Yuji stepped forward again with a grin. “Yeah, seriously. Come to them. Lumen students actually get graded on how many patients they help each quarter, so a lot of them try to build up, like, regulars. Repeat visits are basically gold stars for their records.”

You raised an eyebrow at that. Leave it to the Academy to turn medical care into another thing to tally on a rubric. Still… it kind of made sense.

You nodded in acknowledgment, fingers gently brushing over the fresh gauze. “I’ll remember that, too.” Your voice came out a little hoarse, the weight of the afternoon finally catching up to you. A long breath pushed past your lips as you closed your eyes, rolling your neck from one side to the other. The motion drew a few subtle pops from your tight muscles, and you winced slightly before relaxing. “For now, I think it’s time I head back to Nocturne. Maybe take a nap… or sleep for the next year.”

“I’ll walk with you!” Yuji chimed in cheerfully before you could even think of refusing. “I have to pass Nocturne to get back to Ignis anyway, so I might as well.”

You almost argued with him. Almost, but you decided against it. You would be lying if you said you disliked his company.

Before you could take a step, Nanami cleared his throat to catch your attention, his voice low as he extended something to you. “Before you go,” he said, placing a small clay pot into your hands, “apply this salve to the burn. Gently, twice a day. Change the bandages each time. Do not skip. If the wound worsens—redness, swelling, or heat—come back immediately.”

You accepted it with both hands, nodding solemnly. The pot was cool to the touch, sealed with wax and tied with a bit of twine, a faint scent of herbs already drifting from the lid. “Thank you. Again. For everything.”

Nanami gave you a quiet look of acknowledgment, somewhere between a nod and an appraisal, then stepped back beside Shoko.

You stepped carefully out of the gazebo, the heels of your shoes clicking lightly against the smooth marble bridge. Your eyes wandered to the koi pond below, its waters calm and crystalline, lily pads swaying gently as the colorful fish swam beneath the surface in lazy spirals. For a brief moment, the stillness helped ease both the throbbing in your arm and the storm in your head.

Behind you, you heard Yuji bidding his goodbyes, his voice chipper and easy, like always. As he caught up and fell into step beside you, the two of you began to make your way out of the Sanctum.

It hadn’t been the day you’d expected, not even close. But as the path carried the two of you back toward Nocturne and Ignis, your pace began to slow just slightly. You found yourself letting your guard down, just enough to allow for a few shared words, a few small laughs.

Maybe… just maybe… you’d made a new friend.

[runeruinrequiem]

aether & ash [ sukuna route masterlist ]

ACT 1

Genesis [ Sukuna & Choso - Combined Introduction ]

Getting Their Number [ All 6 - SMAU ]

ACT 2

TBA

ACT 3

TBA

[runeruinrequiem]

aether & ash [ choso route masterlist ]

ACT 1

Genesis [ Sukuna & Choso - Combined Introduction ]

Getting Their Number [ All 6 - SMAU ]

ACT 2

TBA

ACT 3

TBA

[runeruinrequiem]

aether & ash - genesis.

Route: Sukuna & Choso - Combined (Introductions)

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: Mentions of blood & parental death. Slight sexual/suggestive language.

Masterlist

Erythraen Academy was massive.

That was your first thought upon arriving at the institution, a sprawling stronghold nestled in a jagged mountain, carved into the stone itself as though it had always been part of the landscape. Like a slumbering beast waiting to awaken. The academy loomed against the sky, its towers piercing through the clouds like obsidian claws.

It looked like a castle, but it was so much more.

The maze-like corridors stretched deep into the mountain’s heart, twisting and turning in ways that made even the more seasoned students lose their way. Narrow staircases wound up into shadowed ceilings, disorienting and certainly a heavy workout. You’d bet you could hit your 10,000 step a day goal just by going from one class to another. Even the land surrounding the school beyond the ancient iron front gates was massive - a dense sea of towering evergreens, their rough bark nearly black as the night sky, pressing in close like a crowd of silent, shadowed onlookers.

Erythraen was so big that it boasted not just one, but four libraries, each a source of knowledge likely older than the academy itself. There were far more books than the shelves could hold - haphazardly stacked on tables, in corners, and even on the floor, as you had quickly come to learn. Some were so old that their leather-bound spines cracked at the slightest touch, their pages brittle as dried autumn leaves. You feared they’d turn to dust the second you brushed against them.

There was so much to see, so much to learn.

And, of course, there were the Six Great Houses.

You had been sorted into House Nocturne your first night. You decided quite quickly that it was fitting, considering your parents were shadow mages.

But your sorting had not been normal.

Typically, all first-years gathered at the end of their first week, deep within the Whispering Woods, where the ceremony took place in a cavern. The Eclipse Conclave conducted the ritual each year.

Headmaster Delacroix had explained it very briefly to you while he was doing your sorting assessment.

“We give the first-years a week to adjust to the Academy,” Headmaster Delacroix had said, his words both calm and practiced, as though he had recited this explanation countless times before. (Truthfully, he had. He’d been Headmaster for nearly as long as you had been alive.) “They can explore, ask questions, meet the heads of each house and familiarize themselves with each of the houses. It gives them the chance to see where they feel they belong. Testing the waters, so to speak.”

As he spoke, he retrieved a crisp handkerchief from the pocket of his deep navy coat, dabbing away the thin line of blood beading along the fresh cut on your wrist. The cloth was already stained in places. You didn’t want to linger on what the stains were from. 

For a moment, he turned away, rootling through one of the drawers in the heavy oak desk behind him. He seemed to find what he was looking for, pulling out a small tin and opening it, before handing something to you. A bandaid.

He offered a lopsided smile alongside the bandaid. “My apologies. I’m afraid I’m no good with healing magic. I was sorted into House Aether, you see.”

You nodded wordlessly, taking the bandaid from his outstretched hand. Peeling it open with your teeth, you applied it to the now-cleaned cut. Your eyes flicked up to watch him as he reached for a small glass vial, empty save for the few drops of your blood now swirling within it. Without hesitation, he added a pinch of translucent powder, the substance carrying a scent that was faintly sweet, like dried lavender and crushed petals.

You hesitated before asking, curiosity gnawing at you. “So, once the week is up… what happens?”

The headmaster didn’t look up as he carefully swirled the mixture, observing how the powder dissolved into the blood. “After that, myself and the Eclipse Conclave oversee the sorting process. I’m not sure how familiar you are with them, but they’re essentially the highest governing body within our world. Think of them as… our government.” He waved a hand dismissively before striding toward one of the many dust-covered bookshelves lining the room. He plucked a second vial filled with a clear liquid from the highest shelf and returned to the desk.

“They assign each first-year a series of tasks, one aligned with each of the six houses. These tasks aren’t long or difficult, but they give us insight into a student’s strengths and weaknesses. How they approach a challenge, where they excel, where they falter.” He paused, uncorking the vial before continuing. “That, paired with what we observe of their personality and, of course, the bloodletting ceremony–”

“The what?” You couldn’t stop yourself from cutting in, your head tilting slightly as you regarded him with narrowed eyes.

Delacroix chuckled, unfazed by your interruption. The sound was warm, almost amused, as he poured the now-red powder into the vial of murky water. It clouded immediately, tiny motes of color swirling like ink in the ocean. Sealing the glass, he gave it a gentle shake before setting it aside. With a gesture to the vial, he explained, “The same thing I’m doing now. Nothing invasive, as you can see. Just a small cut on the wrist and a drop of blood mixed with that very same powder you just saw me use, straight into some water from the cavern. That’s all it takes.”

You frowned slightly, watching the liquid swirl. “But… how does it help narrow things down?”

The headmaster picked up the vial again, giving it another shake. “You’ll see for yourself in just a few moments,” he said, glancing up at one of the many antique clocks above the fireplace. “But, essentially, when a student’s blood is mixed with this special powder - which is rumored to be made from fragments of each house’s mascot, mind you - and then combined with the cavern’s water, the mixture will shift in color.” He turned back to you, his lips quirking into a knowing smile. “The water will take on the color of the house that the student is most suited for. Usually, by the time we reach that step, we already know what the outcome will be thanks to the trials and such.”

You had hummed thoughtfully, considering it. “Alright… then why does the water have to be from that specific cavern?”

At that, Delacroix had laughed - a full-bodied chuckle that shook the desk he was leaning against. He wiped a stray tear from the corner of his eye before setting the vial back down. “Oh, my,” he sighed, shaking his head. “It doesn’t, actually. Not anymore. Really, we could hold the ceremony anywhere. These days, it’s more tradition than necessity. A bit of symbolism to keep the ritual alive.”

You had no more questions after that.

Not because you weren’t curious, but because, when your gaze drifted back to the vial, the murky water had begun to shift. The swirling liquid darkened, deepening into a rich, velvety purple.

House Nocturne.

That all being said, you weren’t a first-year. New, yes, but not in the same wide-eyed, eager way as those stepping onto campus for the first time. Your education had been far from the structured, house-sorted traditions of Erythraen Academy. Your parents had preferred homeschooling - not the kind where a child sat at a kitchen table with textbooks ordered from some online shops, but something far more refined. With their wealth and status, they had the means to hire only the best private tutors. Esteemed scholars, masterful shadow mages; people whose names carried weight in the magical world. They had spared no expense in ensuring that their only child received the best education possible.

Then, just one month after their disappearance, the letter arrived.

A formal invitation from Headmaster Delacroix himself, bearing the wax seal of Erythraen Academy. A full-ride offer. No cost, no conditions - just a place at the Academy, should you choose to accept. The explanation had been simple: he and your parents had once been classmates, friends even, during their time at the Academy. While he had respected their decision to homeschool you, he felt a responsibility to ensure your education continued.

You didn’t really believe that was the full truth.

And so, at twenty years old, you found yourself bypassing the first two years entirely, stepping straight into your third year like a ghost slipping into a body that was never meant to be theirs. Something entirely too weird, too wrong, too out of reach.

Erythraen, from what you had gathered, was less of a school and more of an institution. It was something between an elite finishing academy and a university. Most students were over eighteen, already well-versed in the basics of magic. The Academy wasn’t for novices; it was for those who sought mastery. Some trained for powerful guilds, others prepared for a life spent beyond the veil - the fragile boundary separating the magical world from the mundane.

None of that was why you were here.

No.

Your parents had vanished on Samhain. You had been out that night, indulging in an attempt at normalcy, celebrating Halloween with your few mortal friends. When you returned home at two in the morning, the house had been silent in a way that sent ice curling down your spine. And then you saw it.

The sigil.

Carved deep into the dark oak floors of your family home, its spirals and runes fresh, still humming with what you knew to be residual magic. Shadows were burned into the floral design of the living room wallpaper, their twisting forms unnatural, impossible to scrub away. A stain left behind not by hands, but by something else.

As terrifying as it had been, you knew, deep in your bones, that your parents weren’t dead. You felt it, an ache in your gut that refused to fade, a certainty that stole your sleep in the weeks that followed and kept you grasping at every lead, every whisper of an answer.

Your parents had always taught you to trust your instincts.

"Trust your instincts. They will take you further than your eyes ever will."

And your instincts had led you here.

Like a bloodhound on the scent, something inside you had pushed you toward Erythraen Academy, whispering over and over that this was where you would find answers. You had ignored the headmaster’s invitation at first, letting the letter sit untouched on your desk while you exhausted every other option. But after your hundredth dead end in a row, frustration had boiled over and you had given in. You had scrawled out your acceptance, apologizing for the delay and asking for further details.

Eight months, two weeks, and five days ago, the headmaster had sent you the invite.

Six months, three weeks, and six days ago, you had sent your acceptance letter.

Six months, three weeks, and five days ago, the headmaster sent you all of the details you needed.

Three weeks ago, you arrived on campus. You had been sorted quickly, since you had missed the initial sorting deadline for the first-years. 

Three weeks later, you still hadn’t interacted with the other students. Which was fine. You weren’t here to belong.

It was for the best.

You weren’t here for “lifelong friendships” or, “the challenges of the mind, body, and soul” that Headmaster Delacroix had waxed poetic about in his second letter (the official welcome correspondence, which he later apologized profusely for, calling it a formality).

No, none of that mattered to you.

You were here because something in your life had gone terribly, inexplicably wrong. Because your gut refused to let you rest. Because your parents were missing, and you would claw through the very fabric of reality if it meant finding out what happened that night. The Conclave deemed it a Samhain ritual gone wrong. You knew better.

If, along the way, you happened to learn some new tips and tricks? All the better. But so far, most of the third-year curriculum was a laughable review. It was all things you had already mastered under the strict tutelage of your private instructors long before setting foot on campus.

Fortunately, Professor Delacroix had granted you special permission to skip any lecture or class you deemed unnecessary, so long as you passed every exam with flying colors. A fair trade, really. It freed up your time, allowing you to focus on what actually mattered to you.

Which was why, instead of wasting away in a lecture hall, you were sitting in the Abyssal Archives - one of the four massive libraries that the Academy boasted, and by far the oldest.

Found within the Hall of Shadows, deep in the same labyrinth-like tunnels that housed House Nocturne’s sanctum, the Archives felt more like a forgotten relic than an academic resource. Towering shelves loomed in the dim candlelight, threatening to spill over into precarious, ceiling-high stacks of ancient tomes and scrolls. 

It was an easy place to lose track of time. Too easy. You had already spent far more hours here than you should have, combing through brittle pages, chasing the whispers that tugged at the base of your soul.

But if there was any place on campus that might hold the answers you sought, it was here.

The sigil from that night burned in your memory with an unnatural clarity, etched so deeply into your mind’s eye that even if you hadn’t copied it down over and over, you were certain you would still see it, pulsing behind your eyelids every time you closed them.

You just needed to find the damned thing.

Somewhere in these ancient texts, buried in a book of arcane knowledge, there had to be a match. A reference. Something.

And once you found it, you’d have your first real piece of the puzzle.

You had been poring over the books for hours. So long, in fact, that the candlestick you had lit to help you read had burned down to a stub - twice. The milky white wax dripped lazily onto the tarnished brass holder, pooling beside the stack of texts you had yet to sift through. Your eyes stung, dry and scratchy from too much time spent scanning dense archaic script under the dim candlelight. Honestly, you appreciated the commitment to the aesthetic, but you couldn’t help but wish that Erythraen would invest in some damn lamps.

Maybe it was time for a break. A few minutes to stretch your legs, rest your eyes, get some water, soothe your parched throat. Just a quick walk, you reasoned, already pushing back from the heavy wooden table.

And then…

A giggle.

A fucking giggle.

The soft, breathy sound echoed through the supposedly empty library. You stilled, pulse kicking up slightly.

What the fuck?

You narrowed your eyes, tilting your head slightly, as if the shift in angle would somehow sharpen your hearing. Another giggle followed - then hushed, hurried whispers. A rustle of fabric. And then - 

A wet, slick noise.

Oh, hell no.

Your lip curled in disgust as realization dawned.

With an irritated growl, you snapped the book shut and slammed it against the desk with a resounding thud. “Hey!” You shot to your feet, voice cutting through the dimly lit expanse. The giggles and whispers immediately stopped. “Go somewhere else for that shit.”

You were not about to endure the horrors of someone’s makeout session - or worse - while trying to unravel this Gods-damned mystery.

A beat of silence. Then the frantic shuffle of feet, hurried movement deeper in the Archives. A door slammed somewhere deep within the stacks, and you exhaled. Shoulders sagging, you dropped back into your seat. Flicking the book open again, you rubbed at your temple, muttering under your breath.

Finally.

All was well…

…Until it wasn’t.

A pair of hands slammed down on either side of your book, caging you against the desk.

You froze.

Slowly, your gaze dropped to the hands bracketing the pages. Large, calloused, with thick veins coiling beneath sun-bronzed skin. Broad palms, long fingers, tendons flexing subtly under the skin as their grip tightened against the wood. The forearms were strong, roped with lean muscle, leading up to thick biceps. 

Two thick black bands encircled each wrist like manacles. Your breath hitched.

Slowly, veeery slowly, your gaze trailed upward, following the path of powerful arms to broad, well-defined shoulders, then to a chest that was, frankly, unreasonably built.

Jesus fucking Christ. Who had muscles like that?

Your head turned.

A smirking face hovered far too close for comfort, crimson eyes locked onto your own. Sharp angular features, a wide, slightly crooked nose, pink hair that was tousled in a way that suggested either pure carelessness or intentional dishevelment. You already knew why it looked like that.

Full lips, pulled into a smirk that teetered on the edge of a sneer, parting just enough to reveal sharp, pearly-white teeth. A pair of black gauges adorned each ear, glinting faintly in the low light. Slits marked his eyebrows, cutting through his sharp expression like battle scars. Dark, inked lines decorating his face, bold and unmistakable.

"Can I fucking help you?" You scowled as you glared at the stranger, irritation prickling in your veins.

Your hostility only seemed to amuse. His smirk stretched wider, sharp teeth flashing under the dim library lights.

"I dunno, brat. Can you?" His voice was low, teasing, even, as he leaned in closer. Close enough you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. His eyes, half-lidded and lazily predatory, flicked over your face before trailing down your neck, lower still, to your chest–

Yeah, that was enough.

You leaned back sharply, twisting your body away from him as much as possible without falling out of your chair. Your scowl curled into a sneer. "If you have nothing better to do than be a menace, please kindly leave me alone."

A swat of your hand knocked his away from your book, but all you earned was a loud scoff.

A moment later, the wooden chair beside you scraped against the floor, the screeching noise splitting through the library’s quiet. You winced.

Then, he flopped into it, the poor chair groaning under his sheer size. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded if it just collapsed under him. You didn’t even know the guy, but you already knew he deserved it.

But unfortunately, it held.

You could feel his eyes on you as he propped his chin against his hand.

"Why should I?" His voice was a deep gravelly purr, the kind of tone that might have made you swoon if you were in literally any other situation. But right now, it only made your teeth clench.

One of his large, calloused hands reached out, fingers barely brushing against your hair.

Your scowl deepened, and you slapped his hand away. He chuckled as he withdrew, like he found your irritation amusing.

"Because I'm busy and don't enjoy interruptions," you bit out.

That earned you another laugh - well, more of a scoff, really.

"You shittin' me right now?" He tilted his head, expression darkening when you didn't react. "You were the one who interrupted me, brat."

You physically could not hold back your scoff. "Oh, my bad, why don't you take your hookups to the dorms and not the damn library if you're so concerned about being interrupted?"

That earned you a shrug. "More fun."

Oh Gods, this guy–

You decided against giving him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, you forced yourself to return to the book in front of you, eyes flicking over the words, trying and failing to slip back into focus.

Minutes passed.

Time blurred together as you finally found your rhythm again, sinking into the text. The silence might have been bearable, if not for the unwavering stare burning into the side of your face.

Fucking creep.

Finally, he broke the silence. "Haven't seen you around before," he mused, voice casual now. "But you're too old to be a first-year."

And then, he reached out and flicked your ear.

Your patience snapped.

With a sharp slam, you shut your book again, knocking his hand away a third time with even more force.

"That’s because I'm not," you said, teeth gritted. "I'm a third-year."

Before you could continue and tell him in plain terms to piss off, he cut in smoothly, "Which House?" You narrowed your eyes at him. He raised both hands, palms up in mock surrender, but that insufferable smirk never wavered. "I'm just curious," he drawled. "Don't get your panties in a twist."

You could feel your blood pressure rising.

"House Nocturne," you spat, each syllable dripping with irritation.

And just like that, his smirk stretched impossibly wider, like the fucking Grinch’s heart growing three sizes.

"Ooooh," he drawled, eyes glinting with unrestrained amusement. "You're the new student Headmaster What's-His-Face told me about!"

You might have ignored his blatant disrespect toward the Headmaster, if not for what came next.

"I'm Ryomen Sukuna." His expression turned razor-sharp as he leaned in closer. "Head of House Nocturne."

“Oh, fuck you.”

After enduring several more minutes of relentless grilling from Sukuna, his questions veering between infuriating and downright inappropriate, you’d finally excused yourself from the suffocating atmosphere of the Abyssal Archives.

Not that he made it easy.

“What are you doing here instead of being in class?” he’d asked, lounging in that creaking chair like he owned the place, eyes flicking over you with far too much interest.

When you didn’t answer fast enough, he added with a smirk, “If you’re gonna skip, why the hell would you do it in this dusty old crypt?”

And then - your least favorite of all, tossed out with mock innocence and a glint in his eyes that told you he was anything but - “Wanna make it up to me for interrupting earlier?”

Absolutely not.

The second there was even a shred of space between his constant teasing remarks and questions, you stood, muttered something that vaguely resembled an excuse, and left before he could trap you in another round of questions you had no desire to answer.

The air outside the archives felt lighter, less stifling. You rolled your shoulders and stretched your arms above your head, sighing gratefully at the sensation of your joints popping and muscles loosening. A slow walk through the quieter parts of the building helped ground you, and by the time you made your way to the kitchens, the scent of warm bread had fully distracted you from the encounter.

You snagged a quick snack and something to drink, leaning against the expansive counter for a few moments to collect yourself. You checked the time and sighed when you realized classes had already ended for the day.

Which, unfortunately, meant the Abyssal Archives would no longer be the secluded, peaceful haven it had been earlier. The odds of it still being empty were slim. Students would be trickling in soon, if they weren’t already there - studying, chatting, and worst of all, lingering.

You grimaced at the thought. The one thing worse than dealing with Sukuna was dealing with other people while also trying to avoid Sukuna.

Still, with a deep breath and one final sip of your drink, you turned and headed back toward the archives.

At the very least, you figured you could squeeze in a bit more digging.

You couldn’t help but feel surprised the moment you stepped back into the Abyssal Archives.

Sure, there were a few students scattered across the room now - curled over ancient tomes at the desks scattered throughout the room, tucked between the looming shelves, whispering in hushed tones - but it wasn’t nearly the crowd you had expected. You’d been bracing for the worst: a packed library full of noise, distractions, and not a single seat to spare. Instead, it was...manageable. Quiet, even.

Then again, maybe you shouldn’t have been so shocked.

Most of the students present were faces you had seen in passing within Nocturne’s sanctum. Which, in hindsight, made sense. The Abyssal Archives were far from the main halls of the academy. It was far more likely that students from the other houses favored the closer, better-lit libraries aboveground.

Even more surprising was the sight that greeted you when you reached your table: everything was exactly as you had left it.

Your heart gave a little leap. The book you’d been combing through earlier was still lying open, spine slightly cracked from wear. A loose stack of scrolls remained undisturbed, your notes still wedged between them. Even the old candlestick you’d lit before your encounter with Sukuna was still burning steadily, its wax having barely dripped down the side. No one had touched your things.

You hummed in relief, sinking back into the high-backed chair with a sigh. Maybe your luck was turning around. Maybe you could actually get something done this time.

That hope was short-lived.

A throat clearing broke through the stillness, and your eyes slowly lifted in mild irritation toward the source of the sound.

Another student stood at the opposite end of your table. He wore all black - fitted black jeans and a snug crewneck t-shirt that clung to his body like a second skin, the fabric soft-looking but stretched slightly at the shoulders and arms. His hair, ink-black and thick, was tied up into two sharp, spiky ponytails jutting out on either side of his head. 

He had a pale, almost sickly complexion that contrasted starkly against the dark circles under his eyes - purple like bruises, as though he hadn’t slept in weeks. The shadows clinging to his face only made his eyes stand out more: large, heavily lidded, and a deep, near-bottomless brown that shimmered faintly under the candlelight. But it was the tattoo across the bridge of his nose that really caught your attention - a single black line that slashed horizontally beneath both eyes.

He didn’t say a word. Just stood there, watching you, waiting.

You raised a single eyebrow, tilting your head just slightly as you stared him down, silently waiting. If he was going to barge in and interrupt you, the least he could do was get to the point.

He hesitated for a beat, then offered a sheepish grin that tugged lopsidedly at his mouth. “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” he said, though the nervous pitch to his voice suggested otherwise.

Now both of your eyebrows were up, your expression morphing into a sharp, unimpressed look that clearly translated to: Are you sure about that?

He laughed, quiet and a little awkward, rubbing the back of his neck as he broke eye contact. “Okay, I do mean to interrupt you,” he admitted, shoulders hunching slightly as he reached into the pocket of his jeans. “But only because I was asked to.”

From the pocket, he pulled out a slightly crumpled, folded piece of paper and held it out to you.

You didn’t move right away, eyes flicking between him and the paper before you finally reached out and took it. As you carefully unfolded the note, he continued speaking.

“My cousin asked me to give this to, and I quote, ‘the girl who comes back to this desk,’ which I assume means you.”

You glanced down at the note, your stomach twisting in irritation as you read it. The words were scrawled hastily in aggressive, almost illegible handwriting, written with more ego than effort.

Text me if you feel like making it up to me.-Ryomen Sukuna

Of course, he included a poorly drawn winky face and his number, as if you’d be falling over yourself to respond. Your lip curled into a sneer as you folded the note back up with exaggerated care, briefly entertaining the idea of setting it on fire with the still-burning candlestick nearby.

You turned your gaze back to the man in front of you, tone dry as desert air. “Thank you,” you said, then added, “I don’t believe I caught your name?”

This time, his smile was softer. No arrogance, no smirk, just a gentle expression that immediately set him apart from his cousin. “I’m Choso Kamo,” he replied. “I’m in House Umbra, but I usually come down here to help out in the Archives. Sorting, filing, that kind of stuff.”

Ah. A life story you hadn’t asked for, but compared to Sukuna, Choso was practically a gift. Quiet, polite, maybe a little awkward, but leagues more tolerable than his shitty cousin who thought a winky face was flirting.

You slipped the note into your pocket, fingers curling just slightly around the paper as if that alone might crush the smug energy radiating off it. The urge to set the damn thing ablaze was strong, especially with a perfectly good candlestick still flickering within arm’s reach, but incinerating it in front of Sukuna’s cousin probably wouldn’t win you any points. 

No, better to save that little act of catharsis for later, once you were safely back in your dorm and far away from prying eyes. Maybe you’d even toast a marshmallow over it, for dramatic flair.

You gave Choso your name, and he smiled again; soft, genuine, and so incredibly unlike his cousin.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he said, and at your subtle raise of an eyebrow, he clarified, “It’s not every day we get a student starting late into the term. And even then, it’s never someone who isn’t a first-year. Word travels pretty fast around here.”

That actually pulled a laugh out of you. “Surprising, considering how huge this place is.”

Choso nodded in agreement, lips curving into something a little more amused. “Yeah, I know, right? But gossip? Gossip is one hell of a drug. And in a place like this…” He gave a small shrug. “People tend to overdose.”

You huffed a laugh through your nose. Okay, you decided, I like this guy. It was baffling, really, how someone so approachable and chill could be related to a human migraine. Somewhere along the family tree, something had to have gone hilariously wrong. Or right, depending on how you looked at it.

He spoke up again. “Sorry, I just… couldn’t help noticing. You seem really focused on runes. Is there a particular one you’re looking for?” He looked at you with wide brown eyes, equal parts curious and earnest, like a puppy who’d found something new and shiny and just had to know what it was. It was… honestly kind of endearing.

You hesitated for a moment, wanting to brush the question off with a polite deflection. But then you remembered what he’d said earlier, about how he helped out here, in the Archives. And if there was even a chance he could make your search easier…

“Actually, yeah,” you said, leaning back slightly. “I’ve been digging for weeks, but I haven’t found the right one yet. I was wondering if there’s anything like an encyclopedia? Something that catalogs all the runes and symbols?”

Choso’s expression lit up like you’d just asked him to show off his favorite collection. “Yeah! Totally. We’ve got a couple of reference texts that cover pretty much every recorded rune, even the obscure ones. Give me just a sec, I know exactly where they are.”

And before you could so much as blink, he turned and darted into the labyrinth of shelves, vanishing between two aisles with a fluidity that reminded you of the very shadows that lingered in the Archives.

It didn’t take Choso long to return - less than a few minutes, in fact - and when he reappeared, he was carrying a stack of three massive tomes, each one thick enough to be used as a doorstop or a blunt weapon. The leather-bound covers were cracked with age much like most of the other books in the library, the gold detailing faded and flaking, and the metal clasps on the sides gave soft clinks with each step he took. They looked absurdly heavy. And when he dropped them onto the table in front of you with a resonant thud, the weight of them made the candle flame flicker.

But what surprised you most was how effortlessly he had carried them. His gait had been relaxed, casual even, like he’d been toting around feather-filled pillows instead of books that could absolutely double as weapons. Your eyes flicked to his arms, noting the strength hidden beneath the sleeves of his shirt. Definitely a sleeper build. Subtle, not showy, but solid. You quickly looked away before you got caught staring.

“These don’t really get used much,” Choso said, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “Each of the other libraries has their own set, so if you want to take them back to your dorm, you totally can. Nobody’s going to miss them.”

You nodded, already feeling the stirrings of hope bubbling in your chest. A lead, finally. “Thank you so much, Choso. Seriously. I really appreciate it.”

He gave you another of his warm smiles. “No problem. I’ll let you get back to it, but if you need anything else, just let me know. I’m here every day after classes end.”

You nodded again, mentally filing that information away in your ‘Useful People to Know’ folder. Choso turned and strolled off, presumably to resume his unofficial duties - since, to your knowledge, Erythraen didn’t actually have any formal librarians. Just a haunted castle full of old books and people like him who clearly liked it enough to keep it all from collapsing into chaos.

You turned your attention back to the stack in front of you, pulling the top book from the pile and opening it slowly, careful not to damage the delicate pages. The scent of old parchment hit you immediately. You exhaled, then leaned in, eyes scanning the first page as you resumed your search.

Maybe this time, you’d find something worthwhile.

[runeruinrequiem]

house aether

House Aether (Celestial Harmony) – Experts in illusion, astrology, and the balance of opposing forces.

Mantra: "Stellae ducunt eos qui quaerunt." – "The stars guide those who seek."

The Sanctums of Erythraen Academy's Great Houses - The six great houses of Erythraen Academy each possess their own sanctum - a distinct domain that embodies the house’s magical philosophy, aesthetics, and culture. Unlike traditional dormitories, these sanctums function not just as a resting place, but also as self-contained communities. They serve as places of study, practice, and refuge for the students who call them home.

House Aether – The Celestial Expanse Suspended high above the academy, House Aether’s sanctum is a series of floating islands, each one seemingly untethered from reality itself. Wisps of mist drift lazily through the air, while the sky above shifts between day and night in an endless cosmic dance. The landscape is ever-changing - rolling hills one moment, mirrored lakes the next - its form dictated by some unknown will.

A grand observatory rests at the highest peak, its enchanted lenses revealing the alignment of celestial bodies. Pathways of glowing energy connect each island.

Atmosphere: Ethereal, dreamlike, and slightly disorienting. The air smells of fresh ozone and flowers, and the sound of distant chimes and whispers fills the space.

Dormitories - The dormitories at Erythraen Academy are as unique as the houses themselves.

House Aether’s Dormitories Location: Found within the main island of House Aether’s sanctum, the dormitories are housed in small, cloud-like structures that drift gently in the sky.

Appearance: The dormitories are light, airy rooms with walls made of shimmering, translucent material that shifts and changes color with the light. The floors are covered in soft white rugs, and the beds are made of silver and draped with gossamer fabric. Each room has a large window that looks out over the floating island, offering breathtaking views of the academy far below and the surrounding landscape.

House Mascots - Each house at Erythraen Academy is represented by a mythical creature that embodies its values, magical focus, and philosophy. These mascots are not just symbols—they are revered as guardians and guides. Take Heed: the house sigils pre-date the house mascots, and the two may not align in symbolism.

House Aether Mascot: The Dreamweaver Sphinx Symbolism: The dreamweaver sphinx, a creature with the body of a lion and the head of a human, represents illusion and the balance of opposing forces. Its mysterious nature and ability to weave dreams and illusions align with House Aether’s focus on subtle magic and the harmony of light and shadow.

Appearance in the Sanctum: A majestic statue of a dreamweaver sphinx sits at the center of the main floating island, its eyes glowing with a soft, ethereal light.

Notable Members:

Suguru Geto Yuta Okkatsu Toge Inumaki

[runeruinrequiem]

house ignis

House Ignis (Infernal Will) – Focused on combat magic, physical prowess, and unyielding determination.

Mantra: "Per voluntatem, per bellum, vincimus." – "Through will, through war, we conquer."

The Sanctums of Erythraen Academy's Great Houses - The six great houses of Erythraen Academy each possess their own sanctum - a distinct domain that embodies the house’s magical philosophy, aesthetics, and culture. Unlike traditional dormitories, these sanctums function not just as a resting place, but also as self-contained communities. They serve as places of study, practice, and refuge for the students who call them home.

House Ignis – The Infernal Forge The sanctum of House Ignis can be found deep inside the mountain, in a volcanic cavern that rests at the heart. Rivers of molten rock flow beneath heavy stone bridges, their heat distorting the air. The walls are rough and jagged, carved by both time and battle, inscribed with the names of those who have proven their strength.

In the heart of the sanctum, a massive arena in the middle of a deep lake of lava serves as the primary training ground. Here, students engage in combat, honing their magic and physical prowess against each other. The forges lining the outer chamber glow with an intense, otherworldly heat, where weapons are not just crafted but imbued with power.

Atmosphere: Hot, intense, and energizing. The air smells of sulfur and burning wood, and the sound of clashing steel and roaring flames fills the space.

Dormitories - The dormitories at Erythraen Academy are as unique as the houses themselves.

House Ignis’ Dormitories Location: Built into the volcanic cavern of House Ignis’ sanctum, the dormitories are housed in stone chambers carved into the walls of the cavern, overlooking the molten rivers below.

Appearance: The dormitories are rugged, utilitarian rooms with walls made of black volcanic rock. The floors are covered in thick, fire-resistant rugs, and the beds are made of dark iron and draped with deep red and orange fabrics. The walls are often adorned with weapons and shields. The chambers are connected by narrow stone walkways that wind through the cavern, offering stunning views of the molten rivers and steaming vents.

House Mascots - Each house at Erythraen Academy is represented by a mythical creature that embodies its values, magical focus, and philosophy. These mascots are not just symbols - they are revered as guardians and guides. Take Heed: the house sigils pre-date the house mascots, and the two may not align in symbolism.

House Ignis Mascot: The Inferno Gryphon Symbolism: The inferno gryphon represents strength, courage, and unyielding determination. Its fiery breath and fierce nature align with House Ignis’ focus on combat magic and physical prowess.

Appearance in the Sanctum: A towering statue of an inferno gryphon stands at the entrance to the volcanic cavern, its wings spread wide and its eyes glowing with molten fire.

Notable Members:

Toji Fushiguro Maki Zenin Yuji Itadori

[runeruinrequiem]

house umbra

House Umbra (Eclipsed Wisdom) – Scholars of ancient texts, curses, and the manipulation of time.

Mantra: “Scientia et donum et maledictum est.” – “Knowledge is both a gift and a curse.”

The Sanctums of Erythraen Academy's Great Houses - The six great houses of Erythraen Academy each possess their own sanctum - a distinct domain that embodies the house’s magical philosophy, aesthetics, and culture. Unlike traditional dormitories, these sanctums function not just as a resting place, but also as self-contained communities. They serve as places of study, practice, and refuge for the students who call them home.

House Umbra – The Obsidian Labyrinth An ever-shifting network of stone corridors and hidden chambers, the sanctum of House Umbra seems to be a living mystery. Ancient artifacts hum with power, and cursed objects are carefully contained within intricate seal-bound vaults. The walls themselves seem to move, creating new pathways and closing old ones at will, constantly challenging students to navigate their way through its depths.

The main hall is a vast chamber of black marble, its surface reflecting the candlelight of thousands of floating flames. The ceiling, adorned with celestial maps and arcane symbols, seems to hint at forgotten knowledge that has been lost to time. Bookshelves spiral endlessly upwards, filled with texts containing the truths of reality, time, and fate - some so dangerous they are kept under lock and key, guarded by enchantments that test the worth of those who seek their knowledge.

Atmosphere: Dark, mysterious, and slightly oppressive. The air smells of old books and burning candles, and the sound of distant whispers and creaking stone fills the space.

Dormitories - The dormitories at Erythraen Academy are as unique as the houses themselves.

House Umbra’s Dormitories Location: Hidden within the labyrinth of House Umbra’s sanctum, the dormitories are located in secret chambers behind shifting stone walls and hidden doors.

Appearance: The dormitories are small, dimly lit rooms with walls made of dark, polished stone. The ceilings are low, and the floors are covered in thick, black rugs. The beds are made of wrought iron and draped with deep purple velvet, and each room has a small desk for studying. The walls are lined with shelves filled with cursed artifacts and ancient scrolls, and the air is thick with the scent of old parchment and incense.

House Mascots - Each house at Erythraen Academy is represented by a mythical creature that embodies its values, magical focus, and philosophy. These mascots are not just symbols - they are revered as guardians and guides. Take Heed: the house sigils pre-date the house mascots, and the two may not align in symbolism.

House Umbra Mascot: The Chronos Serpent Symbolism: The chronos serpent is said to be a creature of time and mystery, embodying House Umbra’s focus on ancient texts, curses, and the manipulation of time. Its ability to coil around the fabric of time represents wisdom, patience, and the cyclical nature of existence.

Appearance in the Sanctum: A massive statue of a coiled serpent made of polished silvery stone rests at the heart of the labyrinth. It is curled atop a pile of what look to be ancient tomes, carved out of marble, platinum, and silver. Its eyes are fashioned after clocks.

Notable Members:

Choso Kamo Megumi Fushiguro

[runeruinrequiem]

house lumen

House Lumen (Eternal Light) – Dedicated to healing, protection, and the preservation of life.

Mantra: "Sanare, protegere, sustinere." – "To heal, to shield, to endure."

The Sanctums of Erythraen Academy's Great Houses - The six great houses of Erythraen Academy each possess their own sanctum - a distinct domain that embodies the house’s magical philosophy, aesthetics, and culture. Unlike traditional dormitories, these sanctums function not just as a resting place, but also as self-contained communities. They serve as places of study, practice, and refuge for the students who call them home.

House Lumen – The Gardens A tranquil paradise enclosed by towering white marble walls, the sanctum of House Lumen is a sanctuary of peace and restoration. Lush greenery flourishes regardless of weather, with vines of golden ivy curling around each crystalline archway. The air carries the soft scent of herbs, and the distant sound of gently trickling water soothes the soul.

In the center of the sanctum lies a vast, still pool infused with luminous energy, its waters shimmering with the power of healing and purification. Hidden throughout the garden are small meditation alcoves, each designed to amplify the natural balance of mind, body, and spirit.

Atmosphere: Calm, peaceful, and restorative. The air smells of lavender and fresh rain, and the sound of rustling leaves and trickling water fills the space.

Dormitories - The dormitories at Erythraen Academy are as unique as the houses themselves.

House Lumen’s Dormitories Location: Situated within the serene garden of House Lumen’s sanctum, the dormitories are housed in a series of white marble pavilions surrounded by tranquil pools and flowering trees.

Appearance: The dormitories are spacious, airy rooms with high ceilings and large windows that let in soft, natural light. The walls are adorned with faded murals, dried herbs, and celestial beings, and the floors are made of polished white stone. The beds are made of pale wood and draped with white linen, and each room has a small altar for meditation and prayer. The pavilions are connected by stone pathways that wind through the garden, where students can walk and reflect.

House Mascots - Each house at Erythraen Academy is represented by a mythical creature that embodies its values, magical focus, and philosophy. These mascots are not just symbols - they are revered as guardians and guides. Take Heed: the house sigils pre-date the house mascots, and the two may not align in symbolism.

House Lumen Mascot: The Celestial Stag Symbolism: The celestial stag represents healing, protection, and the preservation of life. Its glowing antlers symbolize the guiding light of wisdom and compassion. The stag’s connection to nature and the stars aligns with House Lumen’s focus on healing magic and the balance of life.

Appearance in the Sanctum: A life-sized statue of a celestial stag stands in the center of the garden, its antlers always radiating a gentle silver glow.

Notable Members:

Kento Nanami Shoko Ieiri

[runeruinrequiem]

house nocturne

House Nocturne (Veil of Shadows) – Specializes in shadow magic, necromancy, and forbidden arts.

Mantra: "Nox veritates ignotas susurrat." – “The night whispers truths unknown.”

The Sanctums of Erythraen Academy's Great Houses - The six great houses of Erythraen Academy each possess their own sanctum - a distinct domain that embodies the house’s magical philosophy, aesthetics, and culture. Unlike traditional dormitories, these sanctums function not just as a resting place, but also as self-contained communities. They serve as places of study, practice, and refuge for the students who call them home.

House Nocturne – Hall of Shadows Carved deep within the mountain’s heart, House Nocturne’s sanctum is a sprawling labyrinth of caves, tunnels, and subterranean halls. The walls are slick with condensation, etched with ancient runes that glow faintly in the dimness. Pools of still black water are sometimes thought to reflect fragmented glimpses of the future, while disembodied whispers drift through the passages.

Bioluminescent fungi bloom in eerie blues and purples, casting ghostly illumination on the cavern floors. Floating lanterns flicker unpredictably, their glow vanishing and reappearing as if following an unseen will. Hidden chambers contain shadowy relics and forbidden texts, their knowledge only accessible to those with the courage to seek them. The Hall of Shadows is also home to the Abyssal Archives.

Atmosphere: Cool, mysterious, and slightly eerie. The air smells of damp earth and incense, and the sound of distant whispers and dripping water echoes through the cavern.

Dormitories - The dormitories at Erythraen Academy are as unique as the houses themselves.

House Nocturne’s Dormitories Location: Deep within the mountain, the dormitories are carved into the walls of a vast underground cavern, accessible through narrow tunnels and hidden passages.

Appearance: The dormitories are small, cozy alcoves lit mainly by flickering torches. The walls are rough-hewn stone, covered in tapestries depicting ancient battles and constellations. The beds are made of dark wood and draped with black velvet, and the floors are covered in thick, pillowy rugs. Each alcove has a small, circular window that looks out into the main cavern, where glowing crystals and faint moonlight filter through cracks in the mountain.

House Mascots - Each house at Erythraen Academy is represented by a mythical creature that embodies its values, magical focus, and philosophy. These mascots are not just symbols - they are revered as guardians and guides. Take Heed: the house sigils pre-date the house mascots, and the two may not align in symbolism.

House Nocturne Mascot: The Shadow Drake Symbolism: The shadow drake is a creature of darkness and mystery, embodying House Nocturne’s connection to shadow magic, necromancy, and forbidden arts. Its elusive nature and ability to blend into the shadows represent secrecy, cunning, and the allure of the unknown.

Appearance in the Sanctum: A massive obsidian sculpture of a shadow drake coils around the entrance to the Hall of Shadows, its eyes glowing with an eerie light.

Notable Members:

Ryomen Sukuna Y/N L/N Mai Zenin

[runeruinrequiem]

house solara

House Solara (Radiant Flame) – Masters of elemental magic, light, and purification.

Mantra: “Lux indomita, fatum infractum." -- "Untamed light, unbroken fate."

The Sanctums of Erythraen Academy's Great Houses - The six great houses of Erythraen Academy each possess their own sanctum - a distinct domain that embodies the house’s magical philosophy, aesthetics, and culture. Unlike traditional dormitories, these sanctums function not just as a resting place, but also as self-contained communities. They serve as places of study, practice, and refuge for the students who call them home.

House Solara – Sunfire Grove Nestled atop a high plateau that can be found towards the top of the mountain where Erythraen Academy resides, House Solara’s sanctum is an open-air expanse bathed in golden light. Hundreds of luminous sun-kissed flowers sway in an unseen breeze, their petals shimmering like embers. Towering crystalline trees with fiery veins stretch toward the sky, radiating warmth and vitality. Floating platforms of marble drift above the landscape, connected by bridges of woven light that only appear when needed.

At the heart of the grove is the center courtyard, where both the house's Mascot and a grand crystal fountain that flows with liquid fire reside. Here, Solara’s members gather to study, socialize, spar, and refine their mastery of magic.

Atmosphere: Warm, radiant, and invigorating. The air smells of citrus and honey, and the sound of rustling leaves and distant waterfalls fills the space.

Dormitories - The dormitories at Erythraen Academy are as unique as the houses themselves.

House Solara’s Dormitories Location: Nestled within the sunlit grove of House Solara’s sanctum, the dormitories are built into the trunks of massive golden trees, connected by winding staircases and bridges made of crystal and light.

Appearance: The dormitories are circular rooms with walls made of polished amber and gold-veined marble. Large arched windows let in streams of sunlight, and the ceilings are adorned with glowing crystal chandeliers that reflect the light of the sun, dappling the walls and ceilings around the dorms. Each room has a small balcony overlooking the grove, where students can relax. The beds are carved from white oak and draped with golden silk, and the floors are covered in soft, sun-warmed rugs.

House Mascots - Each house at Erythraen Academy is represented by a mythical creature that embodies its values, magical focus, and philosophy. These mascots are not just symbols—they are revered as guardians and guides. Take Heed: the house sigils pre-date the house mascots, and the two may not align in symbolism.

House Solara Mascot: The Phoenix Symbolism: The phoenix represents rebirth, renewal, and the eternal cycle of life. Its fiery nature aligns with House Solara’s focus on light, purification, and elemental magic. Its ability to rise from its own ashes symbolizes resilience, hope, and the transformative power that each member of House Solara possesses.

Appearance in the Sanctum: A large golden statue of a phoenix stands in the center courtyard of the sunlit grove, its wings spread wide as if ready to take flight.

Notable Members:

Satoru Gojo Nobara Kugisaki

[runeruinrequiem]

aether & ash [ jjk masterpost ]

"Where knowledge is power, and power is eternal."

Aether & Ash follows the reader, a transfer student to Erythraen Academy, whose family's sudden disappearance seemingly ties into the academy’s hidden past and a long-buried ritual with dangerous implications.

Structured similar to interactive fiction, the story branches into six routes - Sukuna, Gojo, Toji, Geto, Choso, and Nanami - each revealing different aspects of the academy’s secrets. While the overarching plot remains constant, each route offers unique conflicts, revelations, and character dynamics, leading to both a good end and a bad end. Each route will be a mix of SMAU-based fics and written word.

Don't fret - there may be no choices beyond selecting a route, but key events (such as major confrontations, looming threats, and academy-wide upheavals) occur across all paths.

A Letter from the Headmaster

THE HOUSES

House Solara - Radiant Flame

House Nocturne - Veil of Shadows

House Lumen - Eternal Light

House Umbra - Eclipsed Wisdom

House Ignis - Infernal Will

House Aether - Celestial Harmony

WORLDBUILDING

Asks expanding on worldbuilding & characters will be tagged with #🪶 - AAWorldBuilding - Click Here for the full page.

Erythraen Academy History - World

PLAYLISTS

Main Playlist | Gojo's Playlist | Geto's Playlist | Sukuna's Playlist | Choso's Playlist | Nanami's Playlist | Toji's Playlist

ROUTE MASTERLISTS

Satoru Gojo

Suguru Geto

Ryomen Sukuna

Choso Kamo

Kento Nanami

Toji Fushiguro