#gojo acknowledged her strength!

[rmorde]

With talks about RCT output and worries about Shoko getting shafted regarding her powers... let's see the rough translations.

Warning: Spoilers

Sukuna: No, when you use RCT on another person, the efficiency is usually less than half compared to when you heal yourself.

Kinda make sense? It was already established long ago that RCT is incredibly difficult to pull off.

Shoko doesn't have any Innate Technique. Since her name implies that she is not part of a clan, she likely has no Inherited Technique either. So all she has is usage of Reversal (RCT). Considering how highly valued she is by the school, she must be incredibly good at it.

Now, her feats were said to be healing and re-growing limbs. However, we saw how Toge is still missing an arm and so does Hana. Maki is also heavily scarred.

But it's not all failures tho, Shoko is the one that healed Nanami after fighting Mahito the first time and he seemed perfectly fine the next day. Another example is Geto who was severely injured in the afternoon, but was back to normal within 24 hours.

And... that's about it. We do not have any further clue regarding her powers. This is both a boon and a bane.

Let's start with this lack of info as bane.

Sukuna: Her RCT isn't even as powerful as me or Gojo Satoru

This is what people are worried about. Frankly, so do I. This devalues Shoko's skill. It is not helped by the fact there are other characters introduced already that possesses RCT.

Sukuna's observation here could be taken as Shoko being not that special after all especially since we do not really have much information about what she can truly do so far. With her confirmed heals being 2 Perfectly Fine and 3 Not Exactly Fine, it may seem Sukuna is right.

HOWEVER!

#1 Sukuna has been wrong before. He has a habit of underestimating people right until he spent a lot of time knowing them through fights.

Case in point #1: Gojo. From fish to the guy he never shuts up about, Sukuna seem to like/respect (?) him in the end. I mean, just an observation here, Sukuna tends to name drop Gojo a lot actually like with Megumi.

Case in point #2: Yuji. Sukuna is practically annoyed with Yuji because he doesn't see any value in him. Yet, in this very recent chapter, he acknowledged Yuji at last! Sukuna hates it but he admits that Yuji isn't as bad as he initially thought.

#2 Sukuna is comparing Shoko to Gojo. GOJO who is The Strongest sorcerer?! IMO, Sukuna is being extremely biased here. Like really?! What did he expect? For every single sorcerer Gojo hanged out with to be on the same level as he is in terms of everything he does?! Then again, Sukuna fucking expected Hiromi to pull off the insane feats Gojo did during their showdown (and Hiromi delivered! My beloved! He was taken away so fast.)

Therefore, Sukuna saying Shoko isn't as great as him and Gojo is not really a downgrade exactly. They're two monsters on an entirely different scale. Shoko not being on their scale is just expected.

Seriously. Wtf is up with Sukuna? He's like a heavyweight champion whining why a featherweight champion (Shoko) couldn't compare to him and his rival (aka Gojo) in punching power right after beating the lights out of a promising rookie (aka Hiromi).

#3 We still lack information about Shoko's RCT to fully judge her. So far here are the solid facts:

She can heal people and help them regrow loss limbs which is legit since they are keeping her away from any fights.

There is probably a time factor for her abilities. -> Nanami & Geto probably got healed immediately by her so they recovered 100% -> Maki, Toge*, and Hana* probably missed the time window to become 100% healed -----> *Maybe Sukuna being the one to maim Toge & Hana is a factor too.

Her power level is not Sukuna/Gojo Grade.

The new info that RCT is only 50% effective when applied on others seems to be a general fact which may or may not apply to Shoko. Maybe she is greater than 50% effective at using RCT on others provided she heals a patient within a specific time window.

This could be copium but we actually haven't seen for ourselves Shoko healing someone. What we often see is the result/aftermath of her work.

I may misremember it (if I am please tell me) but I think this is the only image we have of her actually doing RCT... until she got distracted by Satoru and Suguru's shenanigans with Yaga that is.

I just don't want my baby girl be done dirty. Shoko is THE jujutsu doctor for fuck's sake.

GIVE HER RESPECT!!!

[waiting-for-a-sunny-day]

Let’s talk about how much Geto (canonically) loved Gojo. He saw Gojo in a way no one else did.

The way that Geto answers this question is deceptively meaningful. Let me explain…

This is a flashback, but we can assume this interaction is roughly 10 years after Geto’s defection, based on Nanako and Mimiko’s (Geto’s adopted-ish daughters) apparent ages. Right around the time of JJK0.

For context, let’s remember that the last time Geto and Gojo spoke as friends (KFC breakup), Geto said this:

Geto was being intentionally hurtful here. He knew that everyone (except him) sees Gojo, first and foremost, as “the strongest.” Gojo is barely even a real person to them; he’s just a savior or threat or deus ex machina.

Geto used that to twist a knife and ask: “Is there actually anything more to who you are than just being the strongest sorcerer?” He knew this would be devastating to Gojo. Gojo’s best and only friend is saying: “even I don’t know if there is anything else that’s important about you other than your strength.”

Let’s go back to Nanako's question.

She sets this question up in an important way. Like every (non-Geto) person, she sees Gojo’s fundamental defining quality as “strong." So, naturally, her immediate sub-question to “who is he?” is “he’s super strong, right?”

She’s asked the question in a way that Geto could very easily answer it: “yes, that’s right. He’s the strongest sorcerer.”

BUT

- - - - - Keep reading cut - - - - -

Geto gets contemplative. (“Hm…” - he’s thinking about how to answer because “Who is X?” is either a very basic question or a very philosophical question).

He ends up not even acknowledging the second part of the question about Gojo’s strength and instead tells her who Gojo is to him.

Because when they were best friends and even a decade later, he never actually thought of Gojo as just the strongest. Gojo was always something more to him.

“He was my best friend.”

As an adult, an ex-best friend from high school isn’t necessarily someone meaningful to you. Is Geto saying this actually significant? Yes.

This memory (“who is Satoru Gojo anyway?”) is what Nanako remembers as the context to this next thought:

This is WILD.

This thought is during Nanako’s interaction with Sukuna where she is essentially blackmailing Sukuna into helping get Geto’s body back.

She loves Geto so much that she’d risk pissing off the most dangerous curse/demon/sorcerer just to get Geto’s body back. That’s how much she loves him.

But the man who actually killed Geto she will (never fully forgive but) “let things be” with. Because Gojo was Geto’s one and only best friend in a way that was deeply meaningful to him up until his death.

..

“Are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?” is just what you say to someone you love when you need to hurt him enough that you can stay away from each other.

[un-lawliet]

Can I PLEASE request more soft gojo fics pleaseee. Maybe in jujitsu tech where he barges in the class we're teaching just to give us a goodbye kiss because he's going on a mission and he just can't go without a kiss! 🥺

“Teacher, Teacher”

-in which Gojo visits you before he leaves for his mission.

“And so Maki!” You say, staring down at the faces of your students, your arms opening in a hug like motion towards them.

“When using any of your cursed tools, make sure you protect your weak points, it’s essential!”

It was late in the afternoon, and you were currently going over your students last performance in training, your eyes lit up with passionate praise as you evaluated their improvements.

Maki nods, her face resting on her palm, her glasses slipping down her nose slightly.

“Now..Panda.” You turn, looking at him a grin on your face.

Panda straightens, cocking his fluffy head in acknowledgement to your engagement.

You giggle, “Well, you did great! However, maybe try to rely a little less on your size and more on the technical aspect of your attacks.”

“Tuna.” You hear Inumaki sigh, rubbing his shin in which Panda had sat on mid battle.

“If I have the weight shouldn’t I use it?” Panda questions gently, ignoring Inumaki entirely.

You nod, “Of course! Just not to the point where your entire strength hinges on it…If that makes sense..”

“Try throw a punch she means.” Maki interrupts, leaning back in her chair yawning.

“Salmon.”

“Listen, I can’t help it if my battle tactics are different from you’s two” Panda huffs.

“So what? You gonna sit on a curse?”

“Maybe I will.” Panda replies, sticking out his chest, “See if they can handle me!”

Inumaki’s shoulder slumps as he writes something on the book in front of him before holding it up.

“You’ll get destroyed.”

“The hell? No I won’t.”

Maki leans over to read Inumaki’s writing before laughing to herself, “He has a point y’know”

“Stupid point.”

“Bonito flakes.”

“Ooh someone’s mad I beat him.”

“OoOoh some Panda’s mad that he gets annihilated by a grade 4 curse.” Maki cheekily replies, her eyes glimmering with mischief.

“Hey!” You interupt, “Nobodys getting annihilated when I’m the teacher.”

Your students sigh and turn back to you, Inumaki sticking out his tounge to Panda in his movements.

And you giggle to yourself fondly.

You love being a teacher.

After training at Jujutsu Tech it seemed the only natural course for you, you had strength of course, but your real talent stemmed from your ability to create battle plans that exploited sorcerers strengths and disguised their weaknesses.

Yaga had welcomed you as a co-worker just a couple days after your graduation, his grin wide as he explained your duties before frowning at someone behind you.

“And what are you doing here Satoru.”

“What? I’m here to teach.”

“Huh?” You had said turning to look at him.

Even Shoko, who you would tease for her stoicism, raised an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna teach?” She said, “You.”

Gojo placed a hand on his heart, a dramatic showing of offence present in the way he opened his mouth and gasped, “Is it that weird?”

“Yes.” You all deadpanned.

Yaga scratched the back of his head, “Never in all my years of teaching you, have you ever shown an interest in teaching.”

“Well, it’s different now.” Gojo replied simply, grinning at his previous teacher, gloating. “Someone has to look after this one.” He nodded towards you, winking.

“Look after me??” You exclaim, turning to face him fully, your arms crossed, “I’m more than capable of-”

“Is this about Geto?” Shoko had asked plainly, resting her chin on her palm, staring Gojo out.

All of you went silent.

“No, not at all.”

Gojos’ expression had turned cold, as if the very mention of his best friend could freeze any conversation, any fleeting moment. You felt uneasy, your body closing in on itself to fight off the chill.

“Are you sure-”

“Yes.”

It was awkward.

Gojo and Shoko staring at eachother, as if commuting in a silent battle in which you and Yaga could not understand.

Quiet. Until Yaga interupted with a sigh, shaking his head.

“You’ll have to do an interview.”

“HUH?” Gojo replied, his head swinging back to Yaga, breaking his battle with Shoko instantaneously.

“Y/N didn’t need an interview?”

“Y/N is not a reckless.”

“Neither am I!!”

And you remember laughing into your palm, the pain of the past dissipating for a split second, as Gojo pouted, and followed Yaga into his office, as Shoko congratulated you on your new job.

Your new job that you had kept for the last 10 years.

…With Satoru Gojo.

Who had somehow, along the way, stole your heart.

Your phone buzzes from your desk, and you glance at it to see a message for Satoru, asking you if you wanted anything back from his mission later.

You deflate a little at the reminder.

You weren’t going to see Gojo before his mission due to your scheduled classes with the second years.

It had been a while since you had properly spent time with him, you missed seeing his silly face.

You sigh, you’ll reply later.

“So Maki, were you with Nobara yesterday?” You hear Panda start as you tune back into your students conversation.

“Huh? Yea? We were training.”

“Oh oh oh…Private training sessions…” Panda smirks, and you swear Maki’s glare could kill.

“Salmonnn~.”

“Shut up Inumaki.”

“Look Inumaki she’s totally blushing!” Panda laughs, you think it sounds more like a roar.

“That’s it! I swear to God, next training session I will fuc-”

The sliding door behind you opens, and you turn to see your boyfriend waltz into the room, bending to pass through the threshold.

“There she is!” Gojo says, opening his arms in your direction.

“Oh here we go.” Maki mutters.

Gojo was beaming, his mouth carrying the weight of his expression, teeth bared in a wide grin, eyes hidden behind his blindfold.

He raised his arms and walked towards you, ignoring your students exasperation, only focusing on you.

“Hello!” You say, as he pulls you into his chest, giving you a big; dramatic kiss on your head, swaying gently.

“Thought you were leaving?” You question, leaning towards him.

“I was, but someone didn’t reply to my text.” Gojo huffs back, pulling away to watch your face.

“How can I face this world’s dangers if I’m being ignored!?”

“You just sent it Toru.”

“Aha! So you did see it!”

“I was gonna reply later.”

Gojo shakes his head, pouting, “Not good enough.”

You watch amused as he taps his cheek twice, challenging you.

You giggle rising up on your feet to kiss his cheek, before you push him away by the chest.

“Go!” You say, your voice light, “You got your goodbyes, don’t let me hold you back.”

And he just looks at you, a soft smile on his face and you miss the cheeky look he gives you before leaning down and quickly kissing you.

It was small and gentle, and you barely register the disgusted groans of your students, your cheeks warning.

“I’ll be home by 10.” Gojo says, patting your head, “Don’t wait up for me if you’re tired yea?”

And you nod, although you both know that you’ll stay up to see him regardless.

“Be safe!” You call after him, as he walks away, a spring in his step.

“Always am baby!”

And then he’s gone, and you’re left speechless and smiling.

“God, can we leave?” Maki groans, “I feel sick.”

“You just wish that was you and Nobara Maki.” Panda teases, and you hear Inumaki laugh, slapping the desk.

Maki’s face turns bright red and she stands up from her desk, pointing a finger at Panda.

“You and me outside now, we can see if Pandas can survive being buried alive!”

“Oh it’s on!”

You lift an eyebrow and all three of them rise, not bothering to stop them.

“Please try not to kill each other.” You call after them, laughing as Inumaki salutes you before he exits.

…You love being a teacher.

masterlist <3

FEEL FREE TO LEAVE A REQUEST

A/N THANK U FOR THE REQUEST !!! i decided just to write it silly, just bc i’m not too good at the characterisation of the second year students EEK so i hope this is ok !!!!! i love gojo <3 also i wrote this instead of getting ready for work so AHHHHHH i have to panic get ready now so that’s fun

i love you all have a lovely LOVELY day thank u for reading :)

[delzinrowe]

Love Letter - TAKUMA INO

WORD COUNT: ~5.1K WARNINGS: None. F!Reader SUMMARY: Y/N receives a love letter, sadly the sender wasn't very specific when he signed it. A/N: Silly little brainrot I had months ago. Took me ages to actually finish this. Feedback is always appreciated!! Let me know if you wanna be tagged. TAGGING @just-jordie-things CAUSE I GOT BACK INTO WRITING BECAUSE OF HER, SHE'S AMAZING ♡♡♡

Another day filled with lessons of an unusual kind passed by. Gojo-Sensei was a good and devoted teacher, but everyone agreed that his teaching methods sometimes were a little… unorthodox, for lack of a better word. He tends to throw students into dangerous situations to fend for themselves instead of preparing them for it beforehand.

Y/N was just happy that she had her student days behind her. Now she was a semi-grade 1 sorcerer. After graduating from Jujutsu High she slowly but surely worked her way up the ranks and earned the respect of her fellow sorcerers, one of which was Ino Takuma, who seemed to be just as impressed by her as he was by his mentor Nanami Kento.

Whenever she wasn’t on a mission Y/N used the time to train, either by herself, with Takuma or with some of the younger students. Which was exactly what happened right now. For the past hours she had exchanged blows with each of them, successfully winning every fight. Until Maki decided to challenge her. Without any ounce of cursed energy she was supposed to be an easy target, but exactly this made her all the more dangerous in close range.

She stood opposite of Maki, wearing a smile on her lips and chuckling a little. Even after losing their training fight there was not an ounce of bitterness within her. Maki was an astonishing fighter, she was more skilled and talented in hand-to-hand combat than any of the other students.

Due to her lack of cursed energy she focused entirely on close range combat, allowing her to win the fight swiftly. No doubt that Yuji would still smoke her in terms of raw strength, but Maki was no way inferior to any of them.

“You’re gonna raise hell some day, Maki.” Y/N never made a secret out of her adoration and pride for the young ostracized Zenin. If it had been anyone else Maki would have rolled her eyes and shrugged off the praising compliment, but Y/N was one of the few people she held in high regards, therefore her words meant a lot to the second year student.

Knowing that someone as strong as Y/N acknowledged her strength and even believed in her so strongly meant a lot to her, even if she would rather die a gruesome death than ever admit this to anyone.

“I’m working on it.”

Maki’s witty comeback earned another chuckle from Y/N. Truth be told, she was immensely proud of the young student. When she herself enrolled into Jujutsu High she was surrounded by all these amazing young sorcerers and even her teachers were fascinatingly strong. It often caused her to feel left out, as if she was merely a candle in the wind with everyone around her being raging wildfires, rapidly increasing with each passing day.

Back then Takuma was the only person who showed her acknowledgement, who openly told her that he believed she’d be destined for amazing and great things. Thinking back on it now, it might have been this exact moment her crush developed. She wanted to prove him right, that she was capable of whatever life as sorcerer threw at her.

Ultimately, she knew the pain of being left out, of not being believed in, of feeling far too weak. She wouldn’t allow anyone to feel like that, especially not someone like Maki, who was so willing and determined to prove herself.

Y/N only responded with a nod and a smile before turning around to gather her things. All too suddenly she halted her movements, her eyes squinting at the piece of white paper she spotted on the dark piece of clothing.

Right there, at the edge of the training grounds, in her lazily discarded jacket, stuck a letter, folded into a tiny rectangle. It certainly wasn’t there before. She would have remembered anyone messing with her clothes during the training. Whoever it was must have used the chance to leave the paper when she had her back turned. Or maybe when Maki successfully threw her onto her back…

However, that didn’t matter now, what mattered most to Y/N in this instant was the tiny rectangle. 

Curiously, and with careful touches, she reached for the paper and slowly unfolded it. Her eyes scanned over the lines written on it. The first thing she noticed was the handwriting itself. It wasn’t neat, but it was far from messy. It seemed almost as if someone tried to conceal their handwriting. Something else she noticed was that it was a blank paper, no lines or squares, yet the short sentences made it seem as if there had been invisible lines.

Whoever wrote this note went through the trouble of using an undersheet to keep the perfect lines intact. The level of detail for one simple note was astonishing. 

It took Y/N a few good moments of skimping over the words before she even realized what the letter said.

It was… a love letter.

Never in her life did Y/N think she’d receive one of those, let alone an anonymous one, only signed with initials, but there’s got to be a first time for everything, right?

Her gaze was fixated on the paper, as if it put a spell on her. The few lines were filled with sweet adoration, even bringing a smile to her lips until her eyes found the initials T.I..

Y/N still stood in the middle of the training grounds but she suddenly didn’t notice anything around her anymore. Her thoughts were now fully engulfed by the two letters that sent her mind into a haze. Who the hell was T.I.?

Bombs and missiles could have detonated right in front of her, nonetheless, nothing would have managed to tear her attention away from her thoughts going on a rampage.

Seconds passed, turning into minutes as Y/N kept on thinking about the initials but she couldn’t come up with anything. Even if she turned the letters around no one came to her mind. No one seemed to fit, until a certain image popped up in her thoughts. And suddenly the need for a written letter made much more sense to her.

<--With a suspicion now in mind, she set out to find her best friend, hoping to get a different perspective on the entire matter. Maybe he’d even have some advice ready for her to handle this entire situation. It surely would help her to at least get a male opinion on this. That is… if her best friend Takuma would even have an opinion on it at all. -->

“Do you have any idea who T.I. could be?” 

Immediately after finding Takuma she spilled everything about the letter she received. It took him a good few minutes to get her to slow down but once he realized what she was on about his lips curled into a little smile, not too big to get caught but just enough to seem like his usual self. Even if he was a nervous bundle of anxiety inside.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it, ‘Kuma?” This was it. The moment he was waiting for.

He was the one who left the letter in her jacket during training. She’d confront him and after hearing his cheesy confession she’d admit to always having had a crush on him as well, and the two would kiss and be the dream couple everyone would envy.

…At least that’s how he pictured it in his head.

“It must be Toge Inumaki. I can’t think of anyone else, to be honest.” Y/N crossed her arms in front of her chest, the letter still clutched in between her thumb and her fingers, as she gave an expectant look towards her friend, not knowing that his heart secretly deflated at her words.

Takuma tried his hardest not to show his thoughts all too clearly on his face. Usually, he was the personification of bubbly, open and unfiltered, blurting out the first things on his mind without really thinking of his words first. But this time he had to bite his own tongue to stop himself from speaking too quickly. 

Why did she not realize that it was him who wrote that note? Then again, why did he have to sign it with his initials only? Was he really that stupid? Of course, there were other people with the same initials as him, he should have thought of this beforehand.

Or perhaps the fact that she instantly assumed it to be someone else meant that maybe she wanted it to be someone else? Did she believe Toge wrote the note because she wished that it was from him? Had her heart already been snatched by someone?

The possibility of it felt like a gut punch to Takuma. A few minutes ago he felt happy, expecting this moment to turn into the sweetest one of his life. However, by now his chest felt tightened, as if someone had reached down his throat and crushed his heart with bare hands, while simultaneously smacking the air out of his lungs.

This had got to be one of the worst moments of his life. He got rejected, indirectly at least, and in one of the worst ways too.

“If you think it’s him, then ask him about it.” The words were followed by a shrug of his shoulders, he tried so desperately to seem indifferent enough towards this. Of course, he didn’t want her to think that this entire topic didn’t matter to him, it did. More than she even knew. But she was smart and if he acted out of character now then she’d be onto him instantly. 

Y/N let out a deep sigh, uncrossing her arms and letting them drop to her sides. As calm as she seemed, her mind was a mess. Why did she have to receive a letter like this? Anonymous with only initials to make her guess.

“Yeah sure, and what do I even say to him?” She asked with a hint of hopelessness, shrugging her shoulders lightly.

“That depends on whether you like him or not.” Takuma kept his posture, speaking in a tone that was usual for him. Or wasn’t it? He tried way too hard to appear like his normal self that he started to overthink his actions, words and even the tone he used. Did he talk like this any other day?

“I guess so.” Her response, paired with the deep sigh she let out and her sinking shoulders were a clear sign of defeat. She didn’t seem suspicious of him. Good, he had played his role well. Now he just needed to keep it up a little longer.

Eventually Y/N’s chat with her best friend offered no real help or conclusion, besides the obvious ‘talk to him directly. It was a piece of advice she didn’t need, considering it was apparent inside her own mind ever since she successfully deciphered the sender of the note.

She dreaded the encounter with Toge. She didn’t want to break the young student’s heart. Why did it have to be so uncomfortable and painful when friends caught feelings? How she wished for the ground to simply swallow her whole right at this moment.

Alas, there was no way around it. No matter how much Y/N tried to think of a different solution, she had to be direct and honest with Toge. He deserved that much.

Seconds passed and neither Takuma nor Y/N said anything. For Takuma the heavy tension in the air seemed almost unbearable. His heart threatened to burst out of his chest, wanting so desperately to confess to being the real author of the note. But he figuratively bit his own tongue to stay silent. It felt obvious enough to him that she wasn’t reciprocating his feelings.

On the other hand, Y/N felt a thick tension for different reasons. She dreaded the encounter with Toge, no matter how much she knew that it was necessary to clear the air. A feeling of unease and anxiety spread through her stomach and she took a few deep breaths, releasing the last one as a deep sigh.

“I should talk to him right now.” For a moment she glanced at Takuma before her gaze shifted towards the letter she still held tightly. There was nothing else to say or do, anything she’d come up with now would only prolong the much needed conversation.

“Good luck.” Takuma’s short nod was met with a grimace from Y/N, followed by quiet short noise that could only be described as a whine.

Just for a fraction of a moment he forgot the aching pain in his chest. Goddamn, why did she look so cute right now? It took all his willpower to keep his mouth shut when inside him everything was screaming at him to just be honest.

“Thanks.”

Without any further ado she turned on her heel. Even if she didn’t know where to find Toge, she was sure that eventually she’d run into him. Maybe she could think of the right things to say until then.

Takuma’s gaze followed her until she was out of sight. The second grace sorcerer wasn’t a coward or shy by any means, he was brave and courageous. So why couldn’t he just walk up to her and confess, like he had thought about so many times? Why did he settle to write a letter and leave it in her jacket like some clumsy lovesick teenager?

In an instant he froze in place, his eyes wide in shock as the realization hit him like a jolt of electricity. As soon as Y/N confronted Toge she’d find out that the letter wasn’t actually  from him. His heart had started pounding and he felt paralyzed when he realized the extensive consequences of her finding out. Their entire friendship would shift and become awkward. In the worst case it might even end he’d lose his best friend.

He had to follow Y/N and ‘accidentally’ interrupt her encounter with Toge before the blonde student could expose his secret crush on his best friend.

For an experienced high grade sorcerer Y/N was far too immersed in her thoughts to realize that for the past half hour she had been followed by Takuma. He didn’t even have to use any cursed energy to be as stealthy as possible. She was too occupied with her search for the blonde student to notice him either way.

Well, she didn’t actively search for Toge, no. She dreaded this upcoming conversation more than anything else. Instead, she simply wandered around the school grounds as casually as she could. Eventually she’d find him, wouldn’t she?

She had already given up on thinking of what to say, nothing seemed good or fitting. With a nervous feeling in her gut she decided to just wing it and come up with anything she’d say on the spot.

Just when Y/N was about to call it quits and chicken out of this entire situation she saw Toge walking a little bit further away from her current position. After suppressing another unmotivated whine she took deep breaths to calm her nerves before approaching him.

“Hey, Toge!” She tried not to sound too loud with her yell as she ran up to the blonde student, who turned around towards her and greeted her with a hand sign, as per usual paired with a quiet: “Kelp.”

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” Y/N’s head was tilted a little and a somewhat awkward smile appeared on her face. Damnit. She tried so hard to act normal but she had only ever been in this situation two or three times before. Rejecting someone was hard on its own, but even worse when it was a good friend. How would she even start?

Instead of saying any of his safe words Toge opted to not say anything as he only raised his eyebrows. A silent sign that she had his attention and a gesture for her to keep talking.

“The letter you sent me… it was really nice, but…” As much as Y/N tried to find the right words, it resulted in her sounding uncertain. Hopefully this wouldn’t cause their friendship to get awkward.

The more she tried to construct a coherent sentence, the less she was actually able to speak properly. The nervousness that surged through her body felt almost paralyzing, even more so than the uncomfortable silence that hung between them. But she had to say something. She couldn’t give Toge any false hope. He didn’t deserve that.

“I don’t like you like that, I’m sorry.”

If Y/N had the courage to look up right now she would have seen the confused expression on Toge’s face as he tried desperately to make sense of this whole situation. However, her gaze was just about anywhere else, focusing on invisible dots, as to not look at him directly.

He wasn’t entirely sure what she meant, but with the limited vocabulary available to him he decided to simply agree with it and call it a day. Whatever this was about would surely resolve on its own. For him there was no need to stress about something he didn’t fully grasp either way.

“Salmon.” With that Toge nodded his head, conveying his understanding, even if it was merely an act.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, and I hope we can stay friends.” Even though Y/N harbored no romantic feelings for the short blonde student, rejecting a friend was always a gut-wrenching experience. It was something she hated, even if it had thankfully only happened very few times. The anguish of having to turn down someone she was close with always hung above the friendship, similar to the damning dropping chandelier in Phantom of the Opera. At one point it might crash and reduce the remaining friendship to rubble and dust.

Although this didn’t seem to be the case with Toge, he took the rejection like a champ. If Y/N hadn’t been too overwhelmed by this situation she might have realized that Toge even seemed a little too chill about getting rejected. But her mind was elsewhere, involuntarily drifting to the young sorcerer who was now hiding behind a wall, listening in on their conversation.

Toge hadn’t exposed him, he took the rejection and went with it. Yet, for some reason it caused Takuma to feel twisted. Y/N didn’t even think of him when she received the letter, and now she had officially rejected ‘T.I.’, which made it practically impossible to send her another note. He should have just gathered his courage and confessed when he had the chance.

“Salmon Roe.” Two words was enough to pull Y/N and Takuma out of their thoughts and bring them back to the present. She only nodded in an effort to ease the awkward tension between them, even if she was the only one that felt it.

Toge pointed towards his dorm rooms, not even attempting to say anything else before lifting his hand in the air to wave goodbye as he left Y/N on her own. Her thoughts were racing and her heart pounded in her chest. The conversation had gone smooth (more or less) and Toge took the rejection well. Hopefully this wouldn’t have any awkward consequences in their friendship. 

Meanwhile Takuma leaned against the wall he was hiding behind, nervousness filling his stomach. He should get out of here, leave before she noticed that he had followed her.

His palms were sweaty, his heart beating so fast and hard that it threatened to burst out of his chest. His head leaned against the surface of the concrete as his eyes were closed. If he already felt like this when he was just hiding behind a wall then how was he ever gonna face her and confess? He, the usually cool, calm and collected auspicious beasts’ user, was undoubtedly a coward. 

“‘Kuma?” Y/N’s voice rang in his ears, instantly his eyes widened. Instantly he cursed himself for not disappearing sooner. Now it was too late for that, if he attempted to leave now she’d just follow and question him.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was, understandably, laced with confusion. Had he listened to the entire conversation she had with Toge? Why would he even care about it?

“Hey.” It was the most awkward and stupidest he had ever sounded as he dragged out the one word greeting. He wanted to disappear right now, vanish into thin air never to be seen again.

When he didn’t say anything she lifted her head forward just a bit and raised her eyebrows expectantly, urging him to continue with her sharp gaze. Oh, how he scolded himself internally at this very moment.

“I’m just here for emotional support…” The way the words came out of his mouth seemed more like a question instead of an answer to her initial inquiry.  If there was ever an award for the worst lie, Takuma would receive it without any close competition. Even without this dead giveaway Y/N would have known that something was foul.

“Would you just spit it out?” Gone was the nervousness she felt just moments ago during her conversation with Toge. Now she was aggravated and irritated at his unusual behavior. It must have been connected to the love note, but she couldn’t come up with any reason why.

As Y/N was still waiting for his response, Takuma felt the sinking realization that he wouldn’t be able to get out of this situation without coming clean about the love letter. The weight on his chest grew heavier, his heart pounded louder, the beating rang in his ears. He wiped his hands on his pants, rather pathetically as they kept on sweating. Had he ever been this fucking nervous prior to this moment? He couldn’t remember.

Even after facing curse users, as well as encountering and successfully exorcizing countless curses, and finding himself in the most dangerous situations, he couldn’t remember ever feeling this uneasy in his entire life.

The silence between them remained for what felt like an eternity, but actually had only been about two minutes. Y/N knew that he heard her question loud and clear, there was no need to repeat it. Especially considering how nervous he appeared. Something was definitely wrong, but no matter how irritated or aggravated she was with him, she’d never pressure him. That simply wasn’t how their friendship worked.

Seconds felt like hours for Takuma but he knew he had to say something, and eventually, after taking multiple deep breaths, he finally overcame his uneasiness and forced himself to speak up.

“I’m T.I.”, as little as his words seemed, it had taken him immense courage to say them out loud.

“The letter… it’s from me.”

Y/N simply stared at him as he dropped this bomb of information on her. The thought of “T.I.” actually standing for Takuma Ino had never seriously crossed her mind. Even if for a split second she might have hoped for it, she had immediately dismissed it.

For as long as she had been friends with him he was never the type to write letters, especially love letters. She had known him long enough to learn his character inside out. He was blunt, but not brutal, open and unfiltered but never hostile. In short; he wasn’t someone who would hide behind an anonymous letter.

Or so she thought at least, which caused her thoughts to go into overdrive.

“You wrote that? Why? Did you think it’d be a funny joke? Is that why you didn’t say anything before and just let me make a fool out of myself in front of Toge?” Y/N asked suddenly, completely overwhelmed with this situation and clearly overthinking it.

Takuma knew that tone all too well, he was the one to calm her down more than just a few times, and while he was still nervous about this whole ordeal, he couldn’t watch how she doubted herself so much that she didn’t take his love letter seriously.

“No, it wasn’t a joke. Listen…”, for a moment he paused, his might searching for words as she took a step forward to her. He let out a deep sigh before he spoke up once more.

“I like you. Like… a whole lot. I’ve pretty much had a crush on you since forever. I don’t know what made me write a damn letter. I guess I was too much of a coward to tell you face to face.” Even though he had taken a step forward, he couldn’t look into her eyes. His averted gaze focused on an invisible point a few feet away.

“It’s not a joke, alright? I’m serious.” His heart hammered against his ribcage. This was the moment he didn’t want to experience.

Y/N was far too shocked to construct a proper sentence, the confession had taken her by full surprise. Neither of them dared to say anything but as the moments passed her lips curled into a smile that she tried to suppress. It was slowly setting in that this wasn’t a joke or a prank. Takuma seemed to be genuinely nervous, even anxious. Something she wasn’t used to seeing.

Furthermore, she had known him for quite some time and while he was a bit of a goof who liked to pull pranks, he never would have gone for something that could end up emotionally scarring someone.

Her heart went from racing twice as fast to skipping a beat all the way to pounding heavily inside her chest. It felt as if a fuzzy blanket was wrapped around her, the realization that the boy she had a crush on liked her back.

“And you’re really really serious?” She questioned quietly, her voice now lacking the previous panicky tone.

“More than anything.”

When he finally lifted his head again Takuma saw the smile on her lips. It was like a drug to him, instantly he returned it with a smile on his own, the uneasiness fading away and being replaced by a warm feeling that spread through his limbs.

“Good, cause I like you too.”

“You really do?” His mind struggled to believe that it was real, but the way she smiled shyly with this faint blush on her cheeks was all the proof he needed. And suddenly he’s floating from happiness.

Suddenly the anxiety he felt died down, and all the uneasiness disappeared from his body.

Y/N had no time to brace herself when all of a sudden his arms wrapped tightly around her frame, pulling her right into his warm chest. The closeness, paired with his familiar scent, felt like a dream to her.

Takuma didn’t need to say it, it was obvious that he was happier than ever about this development, but so was Y/N.

The two of them didn’t know how much time passed, could have been an hour, could have been an eternity. In reality it was closer to a few minutes, when he eventually loosened his hold and leaned back just enough to look at her. 

Y/N could have sworn she just fell much deeper for him when she saw his unusually flushed face. A sign so beautiful and handsome that she never wanted to look away. It was a sight she didn’t expect, and certainly something she never knew she needed to see until now.

“So… Can I kiss you?” Takuma asked, and Y/N swore he was still nervous, which caused her chest to feel even warmer. It was unlike him to not ooze confidence with every fiber of his being, however, knowing that she had this effect on him, even after both of them confessing, filled her with pride.

“I don’t know if you can, but you should.” She responded with a smirk, albeit with her cheeks so heated that she felt like a radiator. The chuckle that followed her words was cut short when his lips captured her own. Her giggle died down when she practically melted into the kiss.

It was a little messy and chaotic, but eventually they fell into a rhythm that felt just right in every way.

Her hands, which were still wrapped around his torso from their hug, grabbed his sweater tightly. Meanwhile her thoughts dissipated, leaving nothing else but the blissful happiness, and the fluttering butterflies in her stomach.

Everything was drowned out until a few seconds later when Takuma pulled away. As if she was magnetized by him she tried to follow his lips, leaning further into him just a few inches before regaining her composure. She opened her eyes but didn’t look at him right away. It was such a silly thing that she felt embarrassed for not wanting the kiss to end but at the same time she knew that from now on she could have kisses anytime she asked.

Her hands slowly let go of his sweater. A wave of uncertainty hit her but it was gone as quick as it arrived once she felt him reach for her wrist.

His hand found hers, and their fingers interlaced. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how natural and easy everything felt with him. Her heart might have raced like a sports car and rang in her ears like church bells but being with Takuma like this felt more natural and comfortable than she had ever imagined.

For a while it was quiet as the two of them simply started strolling around aimlessly on the school grounds. But there was one thing Y/N still wanted to address…

“You couldn’t come up with a better way to sign it then T.I.?”

“To be fair I didn’t think your first thought would be Riceball Guy.” He mumbled back and rolled his eyes, listening as her giggles turned into a short but warm laugh.

His eyes were glued to her, the corners of his lips subconsciously curling into the happiest grin he could possibly create.

They had no label yet but she was his girl, there was no doubt in his mind about it. She was hers even before he had even known it. And there was no way in hell that he’d ever let go of her.

[hnychn]

I AM HIM, AS HE IS ME

SUMMARY — If there is anything that is universally acknowledged to be wholly true and incontestable, it’s that Gojo Satoru loves his daughter more than anything in the world. But does she know that?

AUTHOR’S NOTE — i got into a huge argument with my father a while back and it’s been weighing on my conscience. this series is largely based on our relationship and it’s been so therapeutic to write everything out and indirectly give myself an ending i want. the series isn’t complete, if anything, it’s no where near done. i want to make sure everything is perfect before i even think about posting the first chapter. its been so long since i’ve felt this strong need to write and i forgot how much of a beautiful feeling it is. everywhere i look and everything i see gives me so much inspiration for this series. but for now, here’s a little sneak peak of my new child.

(i am him as he is me spotify playlist)

SERIES WARNINGS — heavy religious themes, female reader, satosugu, heavy angst, child abuse, childhood neglect, reader is a brat in the beginning, reader is assumed to be a person of color…

TOTAL WORD COUNT — tbd…

BEFORE YOU READ — the reader is mentioned to be a third year at jujutsu tech, and i completely understand the ages and time line don’t add up, but for the sake of creativity, let’s all just pretend it makes sense and ignore the age inconsistencies. <33 thank you!! <33

PREVIEW —

The rhythmic buzz of the cicadas and the sweltering humidity of the summer air marked the beginning of summer and the end of… everything. Satoru could feel the material of his pants begin to stick to his legs the longer he sat on the rotting wooden bench. The train tracks before him were rusted and old; they had weathered the storm of time and had the marks to prove it. These tracks were the end. The led you to the beginning. All Satoru had to do was wait.

—

“Maybe it was because I knew she would always come back to me. Maybe I was testing her love for me. Maybe I wanted to push her away before she pushed me away.”

“That’s a lot of maybes.”

“There’s a lot of regret.”

Satoru could still feel the weight of that nostalgic love and regret in his stomach. It has buried itself so deep within him, he’s hardly sure anything would make it go away. The woman next to him looks different now; youthful, free. Satoru wants that. But does he deserve it?

I AM HIM, AS HE IS ME [MASTERLIST]

— CHAPTER ONE: “He Doesn’t Know I Learned it From Him.”

Gojo Satoru, in all aspects, is a God reborn. He holds the world and its universes in the palm of his flaming hand; unknowingly burning everything he holds dear.

— CHAPTER TWO: “I Was a Girl Gulping a Woman’s Grief.”

With an emotionally distant mother and a father plagued with a god complex, there weren’t many people you could look up to. maybe, you have to look down.

— CHAPTER THREE: “Do You Believe Me When I Tell You I’m Trying to be Better?”

With tensions at an all-time high, it’s hard to ignore what has gone neglected for so long. Dams are broken and feelings are hurt, but if there’s one thing everyone knows, it’s that Gojo Satoru loves his daughter more than anything. But does she know that?

— CHAPTER FOUR: “The Unbearable Lightness of Being.”

There is nothing more heroic than the sacrifices made by a mother. But what is born of those sacrifices made? Virtue? Honour? Strength? You knew the answer to that question all too well: Guilt.

— CHAPTER FIVE: “Desperation Sits Heavy on my Tongue.”

You and your father are more alike than either of you are led to believe. He doesn’t reach. You don’t beg. Where does the tension snap?

— CHAPTER SIX: “Through Heaven and Earth, I Alone am the Honoured One.”

Hymns were sung at his birth and prophecies were written for his future, in all aspects, Gojo Satoru was a god reborn. But who is a God to a little girl searching for her father?

[lvoryingrid]

Longing

Satoru Gojo x fem!Reader

Synopsis: Satoru Gojo, the powerful jujutsu sorcerer, found himself in a luxurious hotel room overlooking a breathtaking cityscape. But he woke up feeling an unusual emptiness as the absence of (Y/n) by his side left a void that no amount of strength or skill could fill

Warning: 🔞 minors do not read/interact: contains 18+ content, smut/erotica, masturbation

Satoru Gojo, the formidable jujutsu sorcerer renowned for his strength and charisma, found himself ensconced in a luxurious hotel room that exuded opulence. The expansive windows offered a panoramic view of a bustling cityscape and the room bathed in the golden hues of the morning sun. The room itself, adorned in decadent furnishings, was a testament to the extravagance befitting a sorcerer of his stature.

However, as Satoru stirred from his slumber, slowly opening his aquamarine eyes, the opulent surroundings seemed to pale in comparison to the emptiness that engulfed him. The soft glow of sunlight only served to highlight the absence of (Y/n) by his side. The plush sheets, though inviting, felt colder without the comforting warmth of her presence, leaving a void that not even his extraordinary strength or exceptional skills could mend.

As he lay there, the memory of (Y/n)'s laughter and the echo of her soft whispers lingered in the room like a bittersweet melody. The space meant for two felt cavernous and incomplete, amplifying the solitude that tugged at Satoru's heartstrings.

Determined to bridge the emotional chasm, Satoru reached for the hotel phone, the plastic sheen glinting in the morning light. With a mix of trepidation and eagerness, he dialed (Y/n)'s number. The silence before she answered felt interminable, the room's grandeur diminishing in significance compared to the anticipation of hearing her voice.

And then, like a lifeline, (Y/n)'s melodic voice flowed through the phone, dispelling the desolation that had settled within him. "Hello?"

The warmth in her greeting breathed life into the room, momentarily dispelling the shadows of loneliness. "Hey, (Y/n)," Satoru murmured, a hint of vulnerability threading through his confident tone.

"Satoru?" (Y/n) replied, her voice a soothing balm to his restless soul. "Is that you? How's the trip going?"

"It's going, It's so good to hear your voice again," Satoru answered, the ache in his heart apparent. "I miss you, (Y/n). A lot."

A soft pause followed, as if the distance between them evaporated in that moment. "(Y/n)," Satoru continued, his voice carrying the weight of his emotions, "the bed feels too big without you here."

Satoru found himself reclining in the sumptuous embrace of the hotel's opulent bed, bathed in the morning glow filtering through the expansive windows. The plush pillows cradled his head, and the silky sheets whispered beneath him as he lay there, the phone delicately pressed against his ear. The distant hum of the city outside seemed to fade into the background as he immersed himself in the cadence of (Y/n)'s soft voice.

As the conversation unfolded, a tender smile graced Satoru's lips, a silent acknowledgment of the warmth that radiated through his chest with each word she spoke. The resonance of her laughter, like a delicate melody, echoed through the phone, painting the room with an ephemeral joy that transcended the physical distance between them. In that moment, the luxury of the hotel surroundings faded into the backdrop, eclipsed by the intimate connection they shared.

As he listened to her talk about her days, conversations with neighbors, or even what she ate last night, he couldn't help but idly begin to stroke his hardening cock beneath the sheets. It didn't matter what she said just listening to her voice, or even her giggles, just the vivid image of her soft lips sent him over the edge. It felt amazing, the thrill to be stealthily masturbating while talking to her, the idea of being caught or heard making him even more aroused. He moaned softly into the phone, unable to contain his growing desire.

Y/n giggled on the other end, oblivious to his true actions. "Well, you know what they say... 'out of sight, out of mind'!" She kept going on and on about her day. Satoru grinned into the phone, his heart racing and his hand kept moving faster on his cock. "I miss you so much..." He trailed off, letting the words hang in the air as he imagined her reaction.

Y/n giggled sweetly on the other end of the line. "Aww, Satoru, that's so sweet. I miss you too. But you know, I'm always here for you, anytime you need to talk." Satoru's heart raced at her words. His fingers moved faster on his cock, lubricated by his own anticipation.

He leaned closer to the phone, feeling a thrill of danger run through him. "I wish you were here," he whispers to the device, trying so hard to hide the moans of pleasure.

The thought of Y/n being there, touching him sent a shiver down his spine. He pictured her long, slender fingers wrapping around his cock, stroking him slowly, teasingly. He could almost feel her breath on his skin, her body pressed against his as they tangled together in a heated embrace. He could feel those (e/c) orbs staring at him hungrily. He moaned loudly into the phone, unable to contain himself any longer.

Y/n sighed, her voice full of longing. "I wish that too, you know that. But we'll make it up for lost time when you finally get here, okay?"

His heart soared at her words, but it was quickly replaced by a surge of lust as he pictured her voice whispering those promises into his ear, her breath hot against his skin. His hips bucked upwards, his cock throbbing in his hand as he came, spurting hot cum onto his stomach, his moans muffled by the pillow.

"God, Y/n," he gasped, his body shuddering with pleasure."I can't wait to see you."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before she spoke up, her voice a little breathless. "Satoru? You okay, babe? You sound kind of...out of breath."

Satoru froze, his heart racing as he tried to think of what to say. He couldn't very well tell her that he'd just come, could he? With a deep breath, he quickly composed himself, hoping his voice wouldn't give him away. "Oh, um...I'm fine, really. Just...thinking about you is all."

Y/n laughed softly on the other end, and Satoru felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Flatterer," she teased. "You know I'll be waiting for you here, handsome."

As they continued to talk, Satoru slowly pulled his hand away from his spent cock, smiling to himself in the comfortable bed. The thrill of being caught or heard only made their upcoming reunion all the more intense, and he couldn't wait to finally be with her again.

Masterlist

[aloesarchives]

All That is Revealed(JJK One-shot)

TW/Warnings: Some angst but Fluff ending, minor profanity, MANGA SPOILERS FOR HIDDEN INVENTORY ARC, Possible OOC Toji/Megumi/and Satoru/ Toji and Satoru still having beef after 12 years, Reader feeling stressed, Megumi indirectly cockblocks Toji

A sequel to this headcanon

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Toji x Fem!/Mama! Reader, Megumi x Mama! Reader(platonic)

AU: Toji Lives AU

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4.8k words

Summary: You finally tell your son and his friends about Satoru and Toji’s shared “history”.

It had only been a week since Megumi got cooked by his dad during their little practice sparring session, which ended with you breaking it up and reprimanding Toji for almost critically injuring his son. That is not what’s bothering Megumi, however. Well, okay, he left a little salty with a bruised pride from barely holding his own against his dad. But that’s beside the point.

What’s bothering him is what you said to him at the end of your conversations. After learning Toji was just playing with Megumi, not even using a fraction of his actual strength, Megumi asks you how truly powerful his dad is. Your only answer was, “Ask your teacher, Megumi.” You then left the school grounds without another word. What did you mean by that? Megumi had never seen his pompous teacher like this before. Satoru’s endless sweat bullets and fidgety hands looked out of character for him. He tried asking him the next day, but Satoru didn’t acknowledge the question and completely ignored it. However, Megumi noted Gojo’s increased stuttering and rapidly fluctuating curse energy. He didn’t have any luck with Geto-sensei either. Geto would give some sort of cryptic answer to Megumi’s question with a lopsided grin, but even reading between the lines was a pain for Megumi himself.

Though, Megumi couldn’t blame his teachers for avoiding his question. He is well aware that his family is not average, even by Jujutsu standards. His father, Toji, was seen as the black sheep of the entire Jujutsu society, a useless human with no trace of curse energy. But the whispers and hushed voices he heard were a different story. His notorious epithet of “Sorcerer killer” wasn’t something every sorcerer took lightly. From the reactions he’d seen about the talks of his dad, something wasn’t adding up. The disconcert and uneasiness radiated from his two special grade teachers at the mention of his father, not to mention many others having a sober expression when speaking about him. It was like an entire act missing from a volume, and Megumi needed to figure out why.

Since he couldn’t get it out of his teachers, he’ll go for the primary source itself, you. Yet, he was swamped with school and back-to-back missions every chance he had. So, he had no time to bring it up in the first place. It was gnawing at him for days, and he wasn’t the only one. Yuuji and Nobara were also curious about your vague statement and wanted answers. Seemingly more determined than Megumi himself. But it isn’t their fault since your vague answer sparked more questions than answers. Plus, on top of not knowing much about you either. 

You were an enigma to the two students. They have seen you around campus but will be out of sight the next, leaving no trace other than your curse residuals behind. Yuuji and Nobara met you briefly a couple of times after the exchange event, only for Megumi to drag them away to leave you to your own devices. It also didn’t help them that Megumi was pretty reserved about personal details, especially ones involving family. Their only leads on you came from the mouths of other sorcerers and the school staff members. Their teacher, known to be a mortal deity, speaks highly of you with a pinch of fondness, which is strange since he never says that of anyone in such a manner. Not even to their other teacher, Suguru Geto, his best friend.

After constantly pestering and begging Megumi to tell more about his ethereal and alluring mother, Megumi decides it is now an excellent time to converse with you. For him, it’s killing two birds with one stone. His friends will finally stop bugging him about you, and he’ll get his answers. It was Thursday; the first years were preparing for a night mission. Gojo had told Megumi that you were coming to discuss recent curse activities and sorcerers' reports for the mouth. The students didn’t have to leave until 3:00pm, so he had time to spare. After their routine classes and training, Megumi begins seeking you out along with Yuuji and Nobara. With plenty of time before dispatching their mission, they searched the whole campus for you. 

While walking through a corridor from one of the student lounges, the students hear voices from one of the nearby private rooms. Before Megumi could think, Divine Dog: Totality summoned itself and dragged Megumi to where the voices came from. Megumi didn’t know his shadows to summon themselves without his command. However, this has happened a few times, such as when you’re nearby, and they picked up your curse residuals. So, remembering that his shikigamis know your essence, he lets Totality pull him along with Yuuji and Nobara. He was proven right when your voice on the other side of the shogi door was from the other side. Totality wags its tail, pushing its master’s hand to open it before disappearing into the corridor’s shadows. Before he knocked, he could hear the different voices as well. There was Gojo-Sensei, Geto-Sensei, and— is that his dad’s voice too? 

‘What the hell? Why is Dad here of all places?’ Megumi thought with his brows furrowing. He knows about the rule that Toji must always be with you on Jujutsu High grounds. He only comes to the school when he wants to tag along or you ask him to. It’s mainly the latter. Megumi snapped out of his thoughts when Nobara and Yuuji shook his shoulders to knock. He takes a deep breath before lightly tapping his knuckles on the door. There was a brief silence before your voice called out to them.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Megumi, Mom. I also brought Yuuji and Nobara, too.”

  Upon hearing your son, you allowed them to come in. As the students came in, they spotted you in the room's layout. The light from the afternoon sun made the mahogany coffee table shine. Three black lounge sofas spaced to face each other, two on the opposite ends of the table while the other met the head. You sat on the head sofa with your legs crossed; Toji was on your left while Satoru and Suguru sat on the other two sofas. Satoru joins Suguru's side to make room for the kiddos to sit. You eye your son curiously, seeing his fidgeting fingers stick out his straight posture.

“What brings you three here? Something on your mind, Megumi?” You say tenderly, a soft affection for your son to feel comfortable.

“Yeah, Mom. . . It’s about–”

“Fushiguro-kun wants to know about your question from last week, (L/N)-Sensei!”

“Yeah, Fushiguro-sensei! Fushiguro has been moppy all week because of it. Would you so kindly answer his question, Fushiguro-Sensei?”

You paused from sipping your (favorite drink), looking at the trio with scrunched brows and a slight frown. Megumi reprimanded the two for speaking on his behalf before he returned to facing you, his fists unusually clenched in his lap.

“ Megumi, I’m sorry for giving you anxious thoughts and restless nights. I didn’t mean to do anything to hurt you; you know that, right? My son, what is it that you want to ask me? You said, reassuring your brooding son. You glanced at Toji, his face unchanging, but his eyes shared the same feeling. Your husband shrugged his shoulders at you, indicating he had no idea what was happening with Megumi. You direct your attention back to your son, hoping he will confide in you like always. Your son takes another deep breath to calm his nerves before speaking again.

“Last week, after Dad beat me, you said that he wasn’t even trying. So when I asked you how strong, you said ask Gojo-Sensei, and that was it. Unfortunately, Gojo-Sensei and Geto-Sensei didn’t answer me, so I wanted to ask you.”

You looked over at the two teachers who were once your students. Suguru shrugged with his hands out while Satoru whistled away with his hands behind his back, relaxing in his seat. You shook your head. You look back at your son with a soft smile.

“I see, so you had to come to the primary source. Well, don’t blame your teachers, Megumi. After all, this is a hard topic for them to discuss.”

The trio looked at each other, confused but curious in your answer. But Megumi was more confused since he had known the two teachers all his life.

“Mom, what are you implying?”

The air shifted, and tension settled in, though Nobara and Yuuji couldn’t feel it. Megumi knew what he was asking was going into a rough part of his parents' lives. Megumi may not be the brightest, but he’s far from dumb. He knows this is serious with what he knows about his father and how vague everyone has been. You were about to speak up if it weren’t for Satoru stepping in to give an answer to the young Fushiguro, albeit failing miserably as he was beating around the bush.

“Megumi-kun, how do I explain this. . . Toji-san, your father, he, erm, he actually–”

“Your father defeated Gojo-kun, Megumi.” You blatantly said, interrupting Satoru to save himself the embarrassment. 

There were various reactions to your answer. Though Satoru was wearing his blindfold, you could sense his eyes widened as he refrained from talking further. Suguru and Toji choked on their own air. Yuuji and Nobara had surprised looks, mouths slightly open. But out of everyone, Megumi had the most emotional reaction. His fists clenched even harder, and his face etched in absolute flabbergast. He was completely floored by your answer. What intensified this reaction was the profound aura you gave off. Your posture was not stiff but firm, showing no sign of slack throughout your body. You set your cup down while uncrossing your legs so the heels of your shoes are flat on the ground. Megumi knew you were telling the truth. He could feel his blood start to rush throughout his body like his chest had been squeezed and forced the air out of his lungs.

“M-mom. . . In what way? And how?”

Though your eyes were severe, your soft smile never left your lips.

“I will try to explain everything to you, but there are many details that I have to give you a shortened version. I’m also speaking on behalf of your father. At the time, I was a part-time sorcerer with a full-time job in the real world. I only knew your father did freelance work with another person. I knew your father hunted curses for a check but not hits on someone. I also became a teacher at Jujutsu Tech so we could get by because my full-time job was cutting hours. Your father’s work paid well but wasn’t consistent, so we had some financial troubles. This caused your father to disappear for months at a time, leaving me to raise you and your sister alone.”

Mentioning the last part, Toji shifted in his seat to be more comfortable. It was futile because it was his attempt to respond to being reminded of one of his biggest regrets in life. Toji knew he had every right to feel shameful for his past actions. Still, it doesn’t change the fact he still gets hurt by them after 12 years. You gently reached out to place your hand on your husband’s as it was on your shoulder. Sensing his discomfort, you tried to soothe his thoughts with the gesture. He deflates slightly as your soft action gives ease, leaning his head to lay on your other shoulder. Your eyes never left Megumi’s as you resumed comforting his dad.

“The day after your Father’s disappearance, I got a significant assignment where I had to oversee and act as one of two guardians for a mission. The same one your teachers were assigned at the request of Tengan, Jujutsu society’s barrier guardian. Initially, they wanted to just have Satoru-kun and Suguru-kun do it. However, the nature of the mission needed some, let’s say, more cautious individuals, and that’s where Maho and I, a fellow sorcerer, were brought in.”

“Okay, but (L/N)-dono, we were careful and diligent if you or Maho-san didn’t come with us! Suguru and I would’ve handled it just fine!”

You raised a single eyebrow at the blindfolded fool, giving him an intense side-eye.

“Given your track record of forgetting to dematerialize veils and scooping out the perimeter beforehand, I could beg to differ. Plus, with how you were back then, your lack of self-awareness would’ve got you, AND Suguru, into situations that would have been completely avoidable.”

Everyone snickered at your comment, causing Satoru’s cheeks to be dusted over with a rosy color. Suguru even laughed at his expense when he should be backing up his best friend. Satoru whined at Suguru, and the two started to bicker with each other. You paid no mind to it as you used to it over the years.

“So what was the mission, Mom?” Megumi inquire

“Every couple of years or so, Tengen needs to merge with their chosen vessel called the star plasma vessel. The merging allows Tengen to not evolve past their humanity, maintaining a humanoid form. At the time, their chosen vessel was a girl named Riko Amanai. The mission was for Satoru and Suguru to escort her to Tengen to complete the merging. However, I was mainly assigned because a high-paying bounty was placed on Riko, so I had to help.”

“Do you know who placed it, Mom?” Megumi said, a little agitated at the person who made your mission a living hell.

Satoru and Suguru stared intently at you, wondering what you would say next. You glanced at the two and then your husband before inhaling to give you some air from the already tense room.

“The person… that placed the bounty on her, Megumi, was… was your father.”

At the mention of Toji, Megumi's face went from rage to repulsion in a matter of seconds. He looked at his father with absolute detest as Toji had regret written all over himself. Yuuji and Nobara felt like they were watching a soap opera. This is the most they have seen Megumi this reactive. They saw him as someone who kept his emotions in check, never letting too much spill out. However, seeing this version of him was unexpected but made them sympathetic since his life is more intertwined in the Jujutsu world than theirs. 

“A cult member from a group that worshipped Tengen disagreed. He contacted Toji and Shui Kong, his freelance partner, to capture Riko. Dead or Alive. So Toji decided to place a bounty so others could wear us down. He didn’t, however, know I was on that mission. Nor was I even aware he was the one who placed the bounty.”

Each word you spoke carried a heaviness as you recalled the mission's events. You tried to include crucial details, having Satoru and Suguru talk occasionally. To know that it takes one mission to change everything was unbelievable. The first years, though shocked, were locked into the story. Many mixed emotions stirred within them as you retell the fable mission. Even though this happened long ago, speaking about this constantly reminded you of life’s unpredictability. It can be fulfilling, then cruel and unfair the next. As you continue, a heavy weight you haven’t felt in years creeps up as you nears the mission's climax. Getting to the fable fights that rocked the Jujutsu world forever. 

The more you speak, the heavier the invisible weight becomes. The feeling of suffocation closing in. At the moment, you didn’t know why you were feeling this. But later on, you come to realize it came from the burden of having to tell your son the atrocities his own father committed, not just against the Jujutsu world, but against you as well. For as long as you can remember, you knew Megumi wasn’t always getting along with his dad. He was a mama’s boy through and through, a brother who always looked out for his older sister. 

When it came to his dad, however, it was a mixed bag. Megumi does love his dad, but he doesn’t necessarily hate him. Even when Toji returned, he wasn’t forgiving of his presence like Tsumiki or open-minded like you. He was expecting his dad to vanish like before. Your heart aches to know your own son had that level of self-consciousness from a young age, meaning he and his sister were forced to grow up, all while you tried to raise them by yourself. It was clear that after 12 years, Megumi hadn’t entirely accepted his father.

Now came for you to reveal what his father had done to be so infamous. So you laid it out for them. Telling how Toji temporarily killed Gojo, fought and won against Suguru and Maho, and captured Riko. This happened when you only talked to Tengen for a few minutes, coming out of the chamber to see the chaos. Your eyes never left Megumi, watching to see how he was handling it. Oddly enough, he had an unreadable expression, but you know the rage that burned in his eyes. You can tell he was holding himself together. But if no people were around, he would have snapped at his father and lost all the patience he had accumulated over the years. 

This obviously didn’t go unnoticed by the other adults in the room. Satoru and Suguru briefly observed Megumi, empathetic at his mother’s revelations. Unsurprising to them to see Megumi like this. After all, they were a part of the majority of his life, essentially seeing the boy grow up. The two knew he never wore his heart on his sleeve. The flurries of mixed emotions brewed in him like a storm. But his restraint was stronger, letting his eyes speak for themselves. Emphasizing their awareness of how much Megumi loves and respects you, he does not dare lash out because he knows it wasn’t your fault.

Toji had difficulty sparing Megumi a glance, the shame never leaving his body. The years of fatherhood have softened his hard exterior, not always bearing the cocky smirk he wore his single years. Like father like son, Toji had a blank expression, but his eyes held warmth and softness unlike any other to the blessing in his life, his son. He doesn’t blame Megumi if he gives him a spiteful look. If not for his filter, Megumi would denounce and never acknowledge Toji as his father. No matter the reassurance from you or Tsumiki, it can’t convince you to think otherwise. And he was okay with that reality.

Satoru made a backhanded remark at Toji in between your storytelling, which made Toji glare harshly at him. Suguru chided Satoru for his comment, which prompted Toji to throw one back with a smirk etched on his lips to highlight his scar. Megumi didn’t care to put up with his teacher and dad’s squabble. He was focusing on the memories you recited. He’ll leave the worrying to his classmates, who became a little on edge to see if a full-blown argument would break out. You, however, will not let any of it, considering the weight of your burden is already frustrating as it is.

“Satoru, Toji, please! Now’s not the time, and I’m not in the mood to deal with you two, so behave yourselves! Drop the pompous attitude, Satoru and Toji; this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t hung on beef with a couple of teenagers. Also, stop manspreading and sit up properly! That’s why you both have back pain from your ugly posture! Tsks,” You firmly command, staring them down individually.

The two immediately dropped their act, listening to your demand like soldiers getting reprimanded by their commander. Your tone made it to Suguru and the students because they subconsciously sat up in their seats. You sigh to try and ease the pressure of your burden caused. Surprisingly, it did help only a little as you finished the story. Speaking of Satoru’s enlightenment and newly awakened power, the dissolving of the cult group, and the eventual aftermath.

“In the end, your teachers defeated Toji. And before you ask, Riko Amanai and Kuroi survived. I rescued her and got her back on Jujutsu High grounds. The two actually live on Jujutsu Tech grounds but don’t leave the barrier often due to their safety, unfortunately.”

“So what happened to Dad afterward?” Megumi finally spoke up after sitting on the sidelines so his classmates could answer the asking.

“Your father was imprisoned, waiting for his execution. However, I pulled some strings and made a deal with the higher-ups in exchange for your father’s life. Satoru-kun did me a huge favor and came in clutch when talking to the higher-ups. In the end, your father’s execution was halted on the conditions he and I would have to abide by. The rest was history.”

You haven’t thought much about it, but this story-telling was just a conversation between you and Megumi. You forgot Yuuji and Nobara were there listening in, too. This dawned on you when they kept looking back at each other and Megumi. As much as you wanted to continue your over-sharing experience, this was a good place to stop, considering your son might not be mentally ready for the others. ‘That’s for another time.’

Before anyone could speak up, particularly Megumi, the door to the room slid open, revealing Maho, Akari, Nanako, and Mimiko. Maho glances around the room curiously before coughing into her hand.

“I’m sorry to break up your little conversation, y’all. But the first years need to get going on their night mission. Akari is here to take you three to the location now. Also, Suguru, the girls want to check out a new pop-up dessert stand while on patrol in the Taito ward.” 

Suguru chuckles, standing up and straightening out his uniform. He bid you and Satoru bye while sending good luck the first years' way. Nanako started to whine that they’d be late queuing Suguru to get going. Once Suguru leaves, the first years begin to leave the room. You got up to stretch when you noticed Megumi stopping at the doorway. You start to regret telling Megumi all this because this may not allow him to focus on the mission. Putting his friends and the mission in danger. 

Just as you were about to call for him, he hastily walked over and gave you a tight hug. Startled at first, you eventually returned with the same intensity. Even though Megumi was 15 years old, a young, proper man, you can’t help but see your little baby boy who always called out Mama. You softly pat his head and kiss his forehead before your son pulls away. Megumi looks at you with a soft smile he has always given since he was a young boy.

“I’ll be safe, Mom. Don’t worry,  I’ll come back home in one piece.” Megumi reassured you.

“ Sweet, soft hum I know you will. Just promise me you, Yuuji, and Nobara will try to be careful.”

“Of course, Mom. We will.”

Toji grins at Megumi and nods when his son locks his eyes with him. You look over at the other two standing behind Megumi. They replied to you with a ‘Yes, Ma’am!’ in a saluting position. You laughed at their antics before shoeing them off to Akari for their mission. As their footsteps grew quiet, you relaxed your shoulders briefly before squaring them back up. You haven’t forgotten that Satoru was still in the room with you and Toji. He was still sitting, his signature grin gone and replaced with a firm line on his lips. You know he was peering up at you through his blindfold while Toji causally threw an arm around your shoulder. 

“(L/N)-dono, did you purposely leave out the conditions of your deal with the higher-ups to Megumi-kun?”

“. . .Yes. My son has every right to know about what happened. But simultaneously, this is a matter to be shared with him alone, not when his other classmates are present. The aftermath of the Star Plamsa incident created a domino effect that thrust Megumi into this world. When I tell him everything, I want it so he’s not forced to put his guard up. I wish for him to be comfortable with his vulnerability to this reality our family is in. To tell there’s the possibility he could lose his parents will weigh heavily on him, and he’s already been through so much for his age.”

You attentively gaze down at Satoru. It wasn’t unusual for him to look out for you, to show his caring, almost vulnerable side. He knows you don’t like hiding truths from people, especially your children. So, for you not to tell the other details means something else that’s made you hesitant. He was right, as you revealed the other issue.

“I also don’t want to jeopardize Megumi’s relationship with Toji. I won’t force him to feel what he already has. But I at least want him to understand that his father loves his family more than anything, even though what Toji did was inexcusable. I just don’t want to put Megumi under pressure in front of other people to be this calm, reserved Sorcerer. I want my son to be present and comfortable asking me anything when I tell him. You know how Megumi is, Satoru.”

He simply nods at your answer before he stands up at his full 190 cm height. He pulls on his goofy grin, pulling a complete 180 from how he was mere minutes ago.

“Of course, (Y/N)-dono. I understand, given what Megumi-kun is like when he’s on missions. Anyway, I gotta meet with Yaga-san, or I’ll get yelled at again. I’ll see you later, (Y/N)-dono!”

Satoru walks out of the room, leaving you and your husband alone. It was quiet, the sound of nature only resonating in the room. Then you suddenly felt Toji’s arms wrapped around you firmly, laying his forehead on your shoulder. Gently grasp Toji’s forearms and rub them soothingly.

“I know it’s hard for you to come forward to tell Megs this, Hon. I’m sorry I couldn’t say my part. I'm still terrible at saying my words. Thank you for speaking in my place, (Y/N).” Toji vocalizes, his tenderness revealing itself in the confines of the sit-in room.

“I appreciate it, Honey. You know I always have your back like you have mine. But please know Megumi does care for you, Toji. He has his own way of showing it, that’s all.” You assured him.

“Yeah, I know. He doesn’t like to do those whole words of affirmation things. I get the kid.”

“Hm, where have I seen that before? Like father like son, I guess.” You feigned your curiosity at your husband.

This evokes a burst of laughter out of Toji as he turns you around while still holding you close. Looking at you like an absolute fool too deep in love.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you, (Y/N)? Come here, you.”

Toji dips his head, going for a kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed in response. You would have kept them closed if your phone hadn’t buzzed off in your pocket three times. You pulled away just as Toji was millimeters away from your lips. Toji groans as you check your phone to see who texted you.

“Who the hell is texting you right now–?” Toji asked in annoyance.

“It’s from Megumi, Dear. Give me a second.”

Toji grumbles, shoving his face in your neck to see what his son sent. You can feel your husband pouting, making you rub his head to calm him down. You read your son's texts that interrupted you and your husband’s intimate moment. 

‘We’re at the location, Mom’

‘It doesn’t look bad, but I’ll still be careful.’

‘I’ll text you when we’re done, Mom.’

‘I love you, Mama❤️’

You cooed at Megumi’s text, sending your replies to him. Toji notices the texts and smiles as well. Megumi, indeed, was a mama’s boy; there is no denying it. Your sweet smile still graces your lovely lips as you look at your husband.

“Toji, stop pouting. I’ll give you all the kisses you want when we get home. I know how you are, you fiend.”

“What do you mean, Hon? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You give Toji the stare that causes him to put his hands up in defense while scratching the back of his head. You roll your eyes as you escape your buff husband’s grasp, walking towards the door.

“If we get groceries and you cook dinner tonight, I’ll let you have your way with me, Dear~. Tsumiki said she was staying at a friend’s house because they were studying for an exam tomorrow. She won’t be home until Friday afternoon.” You said in your suggestive tone, sending a wink to your husband over your shoulder.

Toji holds a mischievous smirk as he quickly walks over to follow you closely as you leave the grounds of Jujutsu Tech.

“Of course, Doll. Anything for you~.”

[honeydewsblue]

april 2005

prelude ; second & first impressions

gojo satoru has the skies and ocean in his eyes—the heavens and the earth. the light and clouds and seas, everything and the void, they all show themselves in the celestite carved and polished to make up his iris. he has that impossible hue the gods mixed themselves with sanctity and their creation. nothing less for their little god. nothing more in fear that he will reach too close. you hear he’s getting real close to it, though—to godhood.

a god amongst men, and he’s only fifteen.

that is your second-hand impression of him.

your first-hand impression: he is a fucking dick, and whatever religious symbolism the color of his eyes hold means jack shit to you. they’re all too complicated and controversial on their own, anyway.

he is a god, he is holy, he is responsible (ha!). that’s what white and blue say he is.

when he walks into class on the first day, well over 45 minutes late and acting like he owns the whole damn school, you know you’ve both been lied to and given a plain, distasteful truth. he is not holy, but he’s the closest thing to a god on earth. if his ego is anything to go by.

it takes all of 5 minutes for a fight to break out between him and the only other special grade in class. you share a look with ieiri, who’s already pulled her phone out.

geto suguru and gojo satoru are both given detention for the rest of the day.

the next day, he barely regards you. you hear him get scolded by geto, something about his manners, and you subtly scoot away in case of emergency. to your surprise, all you hear is a scoff and in place of a brawl, there is banter. the scolding doesn’t do much. he doesn’t deign to apologize to you. you could care less—he doesn’t owe you any attention.

it’s when he calls you weak during a mission that ticks you off.

the next couple of weeks go like that. he ignores you and only acknowledges you to dig at your strength. you think he forgets you exist at any other time; out of sight out of mind. so much for having all encompassing eyes.

to you, he is arrogant, and he is egotistical, and he is god-awful.

being a god amongst men must do that to a person. when you are truly, undeniably above all others, it’s almost reasonable to be all those things: egotistical, arrogant, and god-awful. it’s all he’d known.

his title—young master, the boy-god, the strongest, et cetera, ad nauseam—demands the worship of his subordinates without him having to say a word. worship feeds into ego, and he’s been worshipped since the day he was born.

people have hated him since the day he was born, too. they’ve wanted to knock him right off the stairs of heaven he was born climbing up. bounties and assassination attempts have been tacked on his head ever since the world tipped on it’s axis.

gojo satoru has it all, silver spoon fed to him and served on a shining silver platter. there are people hungry for his head to drop clean onto it with a matching silver blade.

godhood doesn’t mix well with man. people are not meant to be as benevolent, as selfless as their deities are. they aren’t capable of it. that’s why they pray.

it’s all bull. gojo is the closest thing to a god and the farthest thing from a man. he is a teenage boy.

[luvolani]

In the bustling halls of Jujutsu High, Gojo Satoru was a name that echoed with admiration and envy alike. With his unrivaled charm, silver hair, and magnetic charisma, he effortlessly held the attention of everyone around him. His presence was like a whirlwind, drawing people in with his infectious energy and leaving a trail of intrigued whispers in his wake.

Yet amidst the sea of admiration, there was one person who remained largely unnoticed by the charismatic whirlwind—Y/N. Y/N was the epitome of quietude and shyness, always blending into the background with her soft-spoken nature and a tendency to keep to herself. She was known among her classmates as the girl who never spoke unless spoken to, the one who preferred the solace of books over the clamor of social interactions.

One ordinary day, as the autumn leaves painted the school courtyard in hues of red and gold, fate decided to weave their stories together. It happened during a mundane classroom session when Gojo, seated in his usual spot near the window, noticed Y/N across the room. She was bent over a textbook, her brow furrowed in concentration, her fingers gently tracing the lines of text as if deciphering a secret code.

Intrigued by her serene presence amidst the chaos of teenage energy, Gojo found himself inexplicably drawn to her. He wanted to know more about the enigmatic girl who seemed to possess a quiet strength that was rare among their peers. Summoning his usual confidence, he decided to approach her during lunch break, weaving through the maze of desks until he stood before her.

"Hey there," he began with a smile that could light up the darkest corners. Y/N looked up, her eyes widening slightly in surprise at being addressed by someone like Gojo.

"Um, hi," she murmured softly, her cheeks dusted with a delicate shade of pink.

"I'm Gojo Satoru," he introduced himself smoothly, extending a hand. Y/N hesitated for a moment before timidly shaking it.

"I'm Y/N," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Their conversation was brief, stilted by Y/N's nerves and Gojo's overwhelming charisma. Sensing her discomfort, Gojo tried to steer the conversation towards safer topics, but before he could make any progress, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch break. Y/N excused herself hastily, mumbling something about needing to get to class, and hurried away, leaving Gojo slightly perplexed by her abrupt departure.

Days turned into weeks, and Gojo couldn't shake off the memory of Y/N's quiet presence. He found himself stealing glances at her during classes, noticing the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear when she was nervous or how her eyes sparkled with hidden intelligence whenever she participated in discussions.

Their paths crossed again unexpectedly one afternoon when their homeroom teacher assigned them to clean the classroom together as part of a disciplinary measure for arriving late to class. Gojo grinned mischievously when he saw Y/N's bewildered expression upon hearing the news.

"Looks like it's just you and me, Y/N," he remarked with a playful wink as they gathered cleaning supplies.

Y/N blushed furiously but nodded in acknowledgment, focusing her attention on sweeping the floor with meticulous care. The initial awkwardness between them gradually melted away as they worked side by side in comfortable silence, occasionally exchanging shy smiles or brief, hesitant words.

"So, Y/N, what's your favorite subject?" Gojo ventured to ask, breaking the silence that had settled between them like a gentle mist.

"Um, literature," Y/N replied softly, her eyes flickering up to meet his briefly before returning to the task at hand.

As they continued to clean, their conversation flowed more freely, ranging from favorite books to shared anecdotes about their experiences at Jujutsu High. Gojo found himself genuinely enjoying Y/N's company, appreciating the simplicity and sincerity that marked her every word and gesture.

By the time they finished cleaning, the once pristine classroom now gleaming under their joint efforts, Gojo realized something unexpected had blossomed within him—a deep admiration and burgeoning affection for the quiet girl who had captured his attention from the very beginning.

As they parted ways outside the classroom, Gojo hesitated for a moment before gathering his courage and speaking from his heart.

"Y/N, I really enjoyed today. I hope we can... um, do this again sometime," he said, his usually confident voice tinged with a touch of vulnerability.

Y/N smiled shyly, her cheeks flushed with a delicate pink hue that made her look even more enchanting in the soft afternoon light.

"I-I'd like that," she replied softly, her eyes sparkling with a newfound warmth that mirrored the blossoming emotions within Gojo's heart.

And so, amidst the backdrop of falling autumn leaves and whispered secrets, a new chapter began for Gojo Satoru and Y/N—a tale of unexpected connections, quiet moments of understanding, and the gentle magic of two souls finding each other amidst the bustling chaos of high school life.

[mysteria157]

Chapter 19: Final

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

Word Count: ~12.4k (the last one I am in SHAMBLES)

CW: fluff, profanity, explicit sexual content, tears (from me, hopefully you too)

Summary: Things finally come together.

Notes: Thank you all so SO much for your support, for your kind words, for your likes and reblogs. It means so much just to hear one person tell me how much they loved my story. This was my first ever fic and I am so proud of it. It’s given me so much confidence and strength. I’m so sad to let this go, but I’m happy that I could close it well. Happy reading and I hope you enjoy!

Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated &lt;3

Divider: @cafekitsune

Previous Chapter | Ao3 | JJK Masterlist

It Had To Be You Masterlist (Complete)

**Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission!**

“You’re quiet.”

Your voice startled Kento, causing his shoulders to briefly tense up before relaxing as he glanced up from the ball of dough in his hands. Since the early hours of the morning when you both had risen to prepare for the grand opening of his bakery, Kento had been unusually chatty, filled with excitement for the day ahead. However, as the opening hour approached, he began to fall quiet and you could see the subtle signs of anxiousness creep into his demeanor. He flinched again when you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Do you want to postpone the opening? We can if you’re not feeling ready.” It was an out that you knew he wouldn’t take, but the suggestion still let him know that you were paying attention. 

Turning to you, Kento leaned down to press a reassuring kiss to your lips, acknowledging his nervousness but finding comfort in your presence. 

“I’m a bit anxious, but I’ll be okay. As long as you’re here.”

And so an hour later, on a warm day in September, the bakery doors swung open to a line of eager customers and Kento like the gentleman he was, offered a soft smile and polite bow to each one. You had to peel him away from the door and shove him into the kitchen so he could stay focused. All of the goods that sat pretty and delicious in the glass display case beneath the register sold out in less than an hour and Kento and his coworkers were more than happy to make two more batches to meet the demand. 

Amidst the flurry of the successful opening, familiar faces arrived, injecting a touch of chaos into the serene atmosphere. Not even two steps into the bakery and Gojo was already demanding sweet bread. Kento was too euphoric with the day’s success to care and he kindly brought Gojo a plate of sweet bread if only to keep him quiet for a few minutes. 

Chiyo and Santo could only contain your daughter for a few seconds when they walked through the door. From the sight of her father, Ulani was squealing happily and yelling ‘Dadda!’ before wobbling across the bakery to her father who squatted down to pull her into his arms.

“Hello, my dove,” he cooed, planting a series of kisses on her cheeks that made her giggle loud into the bread-smelling air. 

Ulani of course wasn’t much help at the register, she was more interested in trying to repeat the commands her father gave her. At 14 months she could only really say a few words and understand the significance, but she loved to repeat as much as she could.

“Now we say ‘thank you, come again’,” Kento spoke softly in her hair, securing her back as she sat on the counter and handed one of the customers a receipt.

“Tank you! Umajain!”

He chuckled down at her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Close enough, dove.”

You kept your distance, knowing Kento was absorbed in the bustling operation of his business—greeting customers, overseeing the kitchen, and managing his employees. 

“Dadda is a natural, isn’t he?” you whispered in your daughter’s ear as she sat in your lap, her hands sticky with sweet bread. She dug her hands into what remained of her treat and stuffed a chubby hand in her mouth.

“Dadda make?” she asked, gesturing up at you with her wet and sticky hand. The blue clip in her hair was close to falling out and it hung by her ear on the tendril of a curl. She was a wild thing and you and Kento had both given up quite early trying to tame her. She would learn the world at her own pace, in her own time. It was just up to you and Kento to make sure she was safe and protected as she did so.

“Yes, Dadda made that. Is it good?” She hummed happily in response, stuffing more bread into her mouth. “Let’s wipe our hands off, baby.” You handed her a napkin, content to let her be as independent as possible even though she wiped her hands and mouth poorly. You snorted, taking over to wipe what she missed. 

Kento’s soft laughter echoed from the kitchen, something so rare and treasured that the thought of hearing it in public seemed so foreign to you. When you looked up in his direction, you were met with him behind the counter, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen and his eyes already on you.

Before you could even offer a typical eyebrow lift of mirth, Ulani was wiggling from your lap and jumping to the floor—something you would probably have to start talking to her about before she hurt herself. Kento’s attention immediately shot to his daughter, and he scooped her up, carrying her away into the kitchen with only a wink in your direction.

The sun was setting by the time the ‘Closed’ sign was turned over on the glass doors of the bakery, painting the redone floors a rich orange that stretched the shadows of the large fiddle leaf in the corner across the entire floor. Chiyo had somehow conned you and Kento into allowing Ulani stay the night at her house and now, only your friends remained in the empty establishment.

“I would like to propose a toast!” Gojo spoke. Somehow, he managed to procure a small bottle of sake and shot glasses for all of you. “To Kento and the opening of his bakery. Yu would be—is very proud. Of course, 95% of this wouldn’t have even been possible without the future Mrs. Nanami but…Kento you finally got your dream. I’m proud of you and I know the rest of us are too. So, to Kento!” 

Kento didn’t bother to hide the dark blush on his cheeks, and he allowed a small smile to grace his face before lifting his glass in celebration.

“Are you ready to go, love?” Kento’s voice called from behind you an hour later. Your friends left a while ago, and you found yourself admiring Yu’s nerve plant on the windowsill while Kento wrapped things up in the kitchen. As you stopped tracing the leaves, you turned to face him. He was leaning against the door again, muscular arms stretching his white baker’s jacket in a delicious way, his blonde hair falling over his forehead as his brown eyes met yours without the cover of his glasses. 

“Giving that plant love will not make it grow. It’s incredibly dramatic.”

“You’re incredibly dramatic,” you retorted, propping yourself up on his desk. 

His eyes caught the action, narrowing on the way your jeans creased at the hip, curves pulling the sides tight as they rested on his oak desk. 

“Am I?” he questioned playfully, pushing off the door frame to make his way toward you. You kept your composure, ignoring the way your heart picked up in speed as the distance between you both grew shorter with each stride from him. Your legs parted for him easily, allowing him to step between and tower over you. “You’ve hardly shown me attention all day. On the opening day of my bakery.”

You lifted your chin in defiance, holding back a giggle even though he casted a jokingly admonishing gaze down at you. “How shameful of me. What can I do to make you feel better?”

He hummed, pursing his lips in faux contemplation as his hands slid along your jeaned thighs. His fingers dug into the fabric, pressing searing indentations into your body before yanking you closer to him.

“I couldn’t ask you to wake up every morning to make sweet bread for the business, so how about you relay the recipe to me?” Truthfully, you planned to pass the recipe to him later tonight as a surprise, but this could work in your favor too. “You walked around this entire place looking radiant and yet hardly a word my way.” Beneath his chiding, you could sense a light pout against your neck as he pressed his lips to your skin, igniting a fiery heat in your stomach.

“You were busy running a bakery, I didn’t want to bother you.” He bit the thin skin at the crease of your neck in reply, pulling a sharp gasp from behind your lips. “Seducing me won’t—”

“Don’t lie,” he interrupted, pushing against your sternum to make you lay down along his desk. The cold oak dug into your back, but your skin burned right through the chill. 

He was riding on the high of his success, eager in the way he trailed his large hands up the fabric of your jeans and dipped against the small gap of visible skin between your shirt and belt. His calloused fingertips slid up the skin of your torso, pushing your shirt to bunch beneath your bra. Deep brown eyes traversed the landscape of you uninhibited, hunger saturating his irises and pupils blowing out quickly before he dipped down to nip the skin beside your belly button. 

“Be a good girl and tell me the secret ingredient,” he whispered.

The command made you shudder, your eyes fluttering and breath catching in your throat as his wet tongue dipped into your belly button before sliding up the faint stretch marks on your torso. The heat in your belly began to boil, popping and crackling into what would be a raging inferno in only a few short seconds.

“What’s in it for me?” you croaked, uncaring of just how desperate you sounded.

“I’ll give you whatever you want. Right here…any way you want it.”

It was tempting, and the thought of him fucking you seven ways to Sunday on his desk did little to hold your determination. “And what if I don’t tell you?”

He chuckled, soft and vibrating against the skin of your belly before he rested his chin on your sternum. 

“I’ll still give you whatever you wish. I’m hoping you’re feeling charitable today.”

Your heart trembled at the sight of him smiling at you, teeth digging into his bottom lip before he pressed a gentle kiss to your clothed sternum. The warmth of it bled through the fabric and onto your skin, seeping through your pores to pour over your rapidly beating heart. His words were always so sweet, so freely giving to you no matter what. It was admirable.

But your love for teasing him far outweighed his words.

“You can guess.” 

He barked a sharp chuckle into your sternum before heaving a dramatic sigh in acceptance of his challenge ahead.

“Molasses.” His first guess was accompanied by full lips kissing down your torso, each touch making your skin flinch with the sensation.

“You asked Yu that and the answer is unchanged.”

A noise of frustration against the skin above the hem of your pants, thick and heady with lust and lack of patience. You refused to give in, even though your desire was hard to ignore as his fingers began to undo the button and zipper of your pants, tugging your jeans off your legs in a hurry.

“Tell me,” he whispered against the seam of your panties, temptation sliding on your skin like molten lava. You tried to ignore the command as best as you could, your head slowly clouding with lust as you felt his tongue dip beneath the seam to tease the skin above your clit. You sunk your fingers into his loose blonde locks, tightening the strands amongst your knuckles as he teasingly pulled your panties to the side, your cunt clenching from the cool air against it. “Tell me, baby.”

The feel of his tongue licking a long stripe up your clit pulled a high whine from your throat, your resolve crumbling in seconds. 

“I—” you gasped at the feel of him slipping your clit into his hot mouth, arching your hips further towards him.

Thirty minutes later, with him panting against the sweaty skin of your neck, his cock softening inside of you after making you cum twice before finding his own end, you whispered the ingredient breathily into the air. 

“Honey in the batter? That’s it?” Even though he was winded, you can taste his disappointment with himself. “Yu always made it unnecessarily difficult.” He hummed in reproach before a chuckle wrapped around the edges of the noise as he laughed into your skin. You carded a hand through his sweaty hair, sliding your fingertips against silky strands as your breathing evened out. 

A few minutes later, he pulled away from your neck to look down at you, his gaze filled with adoration. You reached out, brushing his locks away from his forehead, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. The golden locks flop back into place, shrouding parts of his gaze, and your fingers trailed down the soft skin of his cheek, traced along the gentle upward slope of his nose before outlining his bottom lip. Your ring reflected off the light emanating from the lamp on his desk, flashing you a reminder of your tie to him. His lips curved into a gentle smile before turning to place a kiss into your open palm.

“Thank you for being here with me today,” he spoke softly, his words echoing with sincerity and love that you so often felt. “I love you.”

You reflected the sentiment back to him without hesitation and smiled softly before you felt him slant his lips against your own.

***

“Promise me that you’ll behave,” you demanded of Kento from your perch on the living room floor, sitting across from Ulani as she pressed another button on her interactive toy. The annoying contraption chirped, ‘The cow goes moo!’ for what felt like the millionth time in five minutes, yet you maintained a smile to encourage her. Ulani gleefully responded with ‘moo’ each time, and it made the desire to fling the toy out the window a little less prevalent than before. You were using it as a tool to keep her distracted until your mother would arrive.

It was the first time Ulani would meet her, a prospect you had contemplated and ultimately embraced. Recent months had seen an improvement in your relationship you’re your mother through shared meals, frequent texts, help with wedding planning, and occasional phone calls at your discretion. She had never asked to meet Ulani and it was that small action that made you realize she gave you full control of how much you wanted your mother in your life.

So you would give her one more olive branch today.

You just needed your fiancé to comply as well.

Said fiancé rolled his eyes from behind his coffee mug, feigning nonchalance that was practically second nature to him.

“I’ll have you know that I have no problem with your mother now.” 

A lie. 

“And besides, I have phone calls to make with the caterers and the wedding planner to make sure they are on schedule. So I won’t really be talking to her.”

Kento had taken on the brunt of wedding planning because he liked order and wanted everything to be perfect, and you were fine with that. It allowed you to focus on other aspects, such as invitations, the bridal party, and your wedding dress. You hadn’t done much, just as Kento intended. 

Before you could respond to him, the doorbell rang, signaling your mother’s arrival.

“Hello, Kento,” you heard her greet him, her voice soft and free of malice.

“Naveah,” he responded, short and with an air as if she had already ruined his day.

You rolled your eyes. 

Your mother walked into your home—it wasn’t the first time, but it was the first with your daughter also present. Her coils brushed her shoulders, a light blue dress falling like water over her small frame as she smiled at you. You were getting used to the warmth that filled your chest from the sight, an affection that you had always craved growing up now returning—slowly—but without lingering pain.

Kento excused himself, leaning down to kiss your cheek and pretending to ignore your glare as he walked away and left the three of you alone. The interactive toy chirped, ‘The dog goes bark!’ and Ulani’s loud bark in reply pulled a soft smile onto your mother’s face, her eyes hopeful and yearning. 

“Come meet her.”

She moved quickly around the sofa, unable to hide her excitement, and stopped short as her gaze fell upon your daughter. Ulani stopped playing with the toy, the sight of someone unfamiliar to her making her inch closer to you. She loved people and was always open to meeting them, but like her father, she was observant and could sense your slight tension. 

Your mother sunk down to her knees, giving Ulani her space and interacting with her toy instead. You rubbed your daughter’s back, offering her your own reassurance that you would be okay, and she used your touch as guidance to scoot back to your mother, the toy between them both as Ulani began to play along.

“She’s quite perceptive,” she remarked, a gentle smile on her face as she watched Ulani press a button and mimic the noise.

“She gets it from her father…and…I know Kento probably isn’t the nicest right now—”

“Don’t you worry about Kento,” she interjected, delighting in the giggle that fell from Ulani’s lips. “I deserve it. The love and protection he has for you is so strong that it reminds me of your father.” 

It was the first time she had ever spoken of him—the first time you had ever heard about him. All you knew was that he died before you were born, and your mother was so distraught that she cut off all connection with his side of the family.

“What was he like?” you couldn’t help but ask.

She pulled in a deep breath, her eyebrows pinching together as if in pain before she pressed another button on Ulani’s toy. “Incredibly handsome with a thick Texas accent and curly brown hair. He was very much a ‘fight the power’ kind of man and spent most of his time protesting social events. We met in college…he was…always the loudest one in the room but always focused on me. It was overwhelming at times.” Ulani unsteadily climbed to her feet and wobbled across the living room to her toy box, leaving you both with each other. “I was so focused on school and doing what my father wanted and he taught me how to…live. It astounded me with just how much he loved me. He would say the most beautiful things with little effort…almost as easy as breathing. During that time, I pulled away from my father’s ideals and just…fell in love. My father hated him.” 

You listened quietly, your heart aching at the small comparisons between Kento and your father and feeling some connection even if it was faint. When Ulani made her way back, she was holding another toy, babbling to your mother in broken English that she pretended to follow along with. Ulani didn’t ask as she plopped down in your mother’s lap, her back to her as she began to slide the colored blocks around with a focused gaze.

“Cancer took him away from me. Quick and out of the blue and I couldn’t function for a long time…I couldn’t speak to his family or even look at them without being in so much pain. And so I stopped speaking to them. It was really drastic but when you love someone as much as I did your father, any reminder of is too painful to face. I miss him. Every minute of every day, for the past thirty-one years. So don’t apologize for Kento. I don’t blame him one bit. I hope to earn his trust one day.”

She would, in time she would. Kento was not the type to hold grudges and that disdain would fade the more he saw how accepting you were becoming.

“Do you think you’ll ever reach out to his side of the family?”

She looked up at you from Ulani, shooting a soft smile that was reminiscent of your own when you caught a glimpse of yourself in photographs and Instagram stories with Ome. Her eyes crinkled just a little at the edges, a small indentation to showcase her age even though her skin was as smooth as her teenage years. 

“I did last week actually…I wanted to surprise you. They are flying into Sendai this week and I was wondering if you wanted to—”

“Yes,” you interrupted without hearing the rest. If there was any chance to meet more of your family that was not your mother’s side, you would take it in a heartbeat. “Do you think they would come to the wedding?” The wedding was a month away and while you had room for a few RSVPs, you didn’t even know if they would want to come.

Your mother’s chuckle pulled you from your running thoughts, the questions dying into the chaos of your mind as she shot another smile at you, the motherly affection returning with a bombarding flourish. “I’m sure they would love that.”

Her words were filled with hope, promise crispy along the edges as they floated in and out of your ears. The feeling of your chest swelling with happiness and the burn behind your eyes before your vision began to swim made you bite into your bottom lip to keep yourself under control. You could tear up after she left, give yourself a moment or two to just be happy that things were falling into place. Slowly, but still fitting together.

“Gamma?” Ulani peeped at your mother, looking up at her with her father’s sharp gaze, a flicker of understanding all over her face as she took in your interactions with each other. She was way too inquisitive for such a young age and your chest ached with the essence of her youth flying a little too quickly for comfort.

“Yes, I’m your grandma,” your mother answered, smiling warmly down at her before placing a soft kiss to her chubby cheek. Ulani took the affection without complaint and turned back to her blocks.

“She’s beautiful…and so smart. Just like you at her age and I’m—” she paused, her nostrils flaring fractionally and eyes beginning to mist along the edges. “I’m so proud of you.”

The compliment was unexpected, her fondness once again warming you from the inside out. Almost a year ago, the very thought of her trying to offer you a smile or compliment made your stomach roll with disdain. But she worked hard to earn your affection, to earn your trust. And even though it was not smooth sailing just yet within you, the waters were a little less rocky than before.

So, you swallowed the warmth that your mother offered you, let it simmer in your belly for as long as possible, and gave her a small smile of gratitude in return, hopefully as a sign of smoother waters to come.

***

Ulani was the perfect flower girl. The sight of her in a sage green tulle dress, embroidered with flowers along the fabric, made her the most beautiful girl in the large Nakameguro garden where the wedding was being held. Though she was unsteady on her feet, she was determined to fulfill her duty on her own. Using her father as guidance, she dug her chubby hands into the small basket on her arm and haphazardly threw pink and deep red petals along the aisle as she walked closer to Kento. When she made it to her father’s feet at the end of the aisle, she gazed up at him, whispering a happy ‘Hi Dadda,’ up at him before receiving a fat kiss on her cheek in praise. 

“Five bucks says that he will cry.” Rory’s voice from next to you elicited a sharp but hushed giggle from your lips. 

Both of you had been fairly quiet since the music started; Rory was providing moral support for your fraying nerves by taking your late father’s place to walk you down the aisle. His twists were redone and looked brand new, the ends tied off with rubber bands and his hairline freshly cut, they hung down his shoulders and brushed the black fabric of his tux. 

“He won’t cry just yet,” you offered, wrapping your lace-covered arm around his tux-covered one as you felt the moment you would have to make your entrance drawing closer. “Fifty bucks says he will tear up.”

Rory shook softly with laughter, patting the top of your arm linked with his. “Deal.” Familiar eyes took you in, the same eyes you had watched and laughed at and cried with for as long as you could remember. The same ones that took you to your first ceramics class and taught you how to love the world. “You look beautiful.”

You elbowed him in a well-known reply, feeling your cheeks heating quickly as your nerves began to unravel at the ends. 

You had put a lot of work into your dress, which swung down to the ground in rich thin white layers. It was adorned with 3D lace and embroidered faintly with white flowers and sheer fabric that hugged your curves, extending throughout the train that trailed behind you. The sweetheart neckline and off-shoulder sleeves were perfect touches to showcase your creamy brown skin. Your jewelry was simple; a diamond necklace that Kento had gifted you last year, and small diamond studs in your ears. Your loose curls hung down your back in dark tendrils, adorned with small cherry blossoms from the past Sakura season and partially covered with a sheer mantilla veil that fell to the floor along with your train. 

You felt beautiful.

This was like any other day: waking up and going to sleep next to him, spending every moment with him. Nothing had changed. But to showcase your love so publicly…that was what made you nervous. You and Kento treasured your vulnerability with each other and cherished the privacy of it. Even though your friends and family were well-versed in your relationship, it was still a part of you that was sacred. 

So when the warm October air brushed your skin as you walked down the aisle with Rory, your heart raced too fast for you to control. Your blood pulsed through your veins, hot and burning from the inside out. Chiyo and Santo’s smiles helped quell the anxiety just a little, and seeing your father’s side of the family made the next breath you took a little easier to fill into your lungs. Ulani’s presence certainly helped as well; for once, she sat in Gojo’s arms without squirming, hugging his neck tightly, and beaming a toothy smile at you.

“What will you do if I leave you at the altar because I’m nervous?” you asked playfully, rolling to straddle his lap. Kento’s large, warm hands slid up the naked skin of your thighs, squeezing in soft reassurance before pulling your attention to him.

“You won’t. Just keep your eyes on me. It’s just like any other day when the rest of the world hardly matters and it’s just you, me, and Ulani.”

“And what if I still decide to leave? What if I don’t want to get married in front of everyone?”

A small huff of laughter escaped his nose, his bare chest shaking from the effort. “Then I’ll follow you and we’ll get married wherever you want.”

“Me and you?”

“Me and you, my love.”

The memory seemed to fill your lungs with an unexpected strength, and as you exhaled deeply, your gaze moved from your daughter to Kento, who was just a few steps away from her. 

And god was he a sight to behold.

He wore the nicest black tux you had ever seen, with a white undershirt adorned with crisp black buttons and an even nicer black tie. His cufflinks, inherited from his father, flickered from the low sunlight and black pants hugged him perfectly. Even though his eyes were without his typical glasses, his blonde locks were parted and gelled in their signature style, free from his forehead to display every single emotion on his face. So unbelievably handsome and soon, he would be yours completely in every sense. 

You had to suppress every possible joke in your head when Rory finally handed you off and your hands brushed against Kento’s warmth. The sensation instantly calmed you, grounded you to the floor as you felt your nerves finally begin to cool down and settle.  

“Hey you,” you playfully teased, biting your bottom lip as you watched Kento’s beautiful burnt umber eyes well up with tears.

“I…” he tried to speak, but stopped abruptly, swallowing what seemed to be the hardest lump in his throat. Full lips parted, desperately trying to say something, anything, to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, blinking rapidly to get himself under control. “Truly beautiful.”

You gave his hands a gentle squeeze, hoping that the touch would be enough to convey that you were there in front of him.

“I’m riding on fifty dollars if you can hold it together, so no crying.”

Dark blonde eyebrows furrowed intensely as if in disbelief, but then a sharp laugh bubbled from his throat, his tight grip on your hands pulling you closer to him.

Jin stood between you both as he officiated and Gojo’s hands shook only mildly when he handed the rings to you and Kento. You both decided not to have vows. You knew that Kento could only be so vulnerable in front of others, and you hated to talk in front of crowds anyway. So it was the perfect choice for you both. 

Yuji spent the entire time in tears, and you weren’t sure if it was because he was happy for you and his sensei or because he had missed a chance with you. Your mother smiled the most you had ever seen from her, and you found that the sight wasn’t unwelcome this time. 

When the rings slid back onto your fingers, the cool metal against your skin felt like an electric current, bringing you back to life, back to the present, back to the moment of Kento’s beautiful eyes on your linked hands before they slid behind your neck to pull you close for a kiss that sealed your union with each other. 

You should have been more insistent on encouraging him to dance more. It was truly a pity, given his obvious talent. He murmured about Gojo’s inability to tear his gaze from Ome as he effortlessly lead you across the polished floor set up in the garden. Despite his skill, he declined to entertain anything more out of character. Instead, he tenderly drew his mother into his embrace, guiding her fluidly across the dance floor, offering her a gentle smile as she conversed with him amongst the music.

Everyone wanted to dance with you, and for almost an hour, you rotated from Rory to your newly acquainted uncles and cousins on your father’s side, to Yuji and the rest of your friends. You were deliriously happy as they spun you around the dance floor, hair loose and cherry blossoms fluttering from the strands with every movement of air around you. 

“What’s the verdict?” you asked Kento later after you both had cut the cake. There was still a smear of the dessert on your cheek from when he playfully smeared it on your face earlier. To you, it tasted delicious; an elderflower-soaked lemon cake with blackberry jam and vanilla buttercream icing. It was your second piece in less than fifteen minutes.

Kento hummed softly, taking another bite and pursing his lips. He was the perfect picture of relaxed. His tie was undone, and two black buttons had been unfastened. His blonde hair was free from its gelled hold and fell in heavy strands over his forehead. There was a rosy tint to his cheeks from the glass of expensive Hibiki whiskey on the table in front of him, and a smile lingered at the corners of his lips that had been there since he said, ‘I do’.

“It seems I’ll have to steal the recipe,” he said with a coy grin, not overly expressing his appreciation for something he had grumbled about for months. “The rest of the food is delicious. I did well.” 

You were in the middle of rolling your eyes when you heard Gojo from across the dance floor.

“I swear, they can speak for my character.” You watched him guide Ome’s mother toward you and Kento’s table. 

Ome’s mother radiated beauty just like her daughter. She stood with a petite stature, and her curves accentuated the elegant fit of her Iro and Buba. The attire’s rich lavender lace cascaded to the floor, highlighting the warm undertones of her deep chocolate skin under the ambient light from the reception’s outdoor lamps dancing in the evening October breeze. Her Gele was a testament to the expert craftsmanship of her Nigerian culture; while it seemed artificial, you knew the painstaking process of hand pressing every layer to make the headpiece commonly worn for Nigerian formal events.

Adorned in a sharp Amani suit and signature circular sunglasses, Gojo exuded an air of affluence. His unique snow-white hair, naturally tinted a soft shade of purple at the roots, framed his striking eyes as they pierced the darkness behind his shades. Eyes always followed him when he walked into a room and his confidence never wavered for as long as you knew him. But you could see the unease in his features when he paused before you and Kento. 

When her eyes met you both, Ome’s mother momentarily overlooked Gojo and greeted each of you with a kiss on the cheek, giving a notably lingered one on Kento’s. Despite only meeting him twice in person, her fondness for him was evident and her husband was too oblivious to notice. Kento would never admit it, but you knew he liked her attention. She fed him and sent him recipes any chance she could get.

“Kento, my darling your friend tells me that his character is good enough for my daughter. I know you will not lie to me.” She knew not to ask you, you were too kind and like her daughter, she needed the truth no matter how awful it would be.

Gojo’s face bloomed a vivid shade of red, the most intense you had ever witnessed, as he nervously watched Kento take a long swig of his Hibiki and gently caressed the fabric upon your thigh before letting out a long sigh. 

“He’s loud,” Gojo sputtered, a tight and foreign sound from unnaturally glossy lips, snow-white eyebrows shooting up to his hairline as he opened his mouth ready to defend himself. You couldn’t help the snort into your wine glass. “He’s annoying and petulant like a child.”

“Nanamin!”

“But he’s a good man,” Kento finished, rolling his eyes at Gojo’s complaining voice. “Out of all the women Gojo has been with, Omelia is the only one who has made him grow up and show her how much of a man he can be. As loathed as I am to say it, he’s worth it.”

Ome’s mother beamed down at Kento, pressing yet another kiss to his cheek before turning her scrutiny to Gojo. He jumped, shoulders stiff and back ramrod straight as she circled him slowly like a vulture would to dying prey. You had never seen him so fearful—well to this degree—any other type of fear was usually because Ome was in his presence.

“You’re tall,” Ome’s mother began, speaking as if logging the details for future study. Her accent was beautiful, heavy but delicate in the way she spoke, giving her a poised air and a level of fear, for whoever crossed her path. “A pretty face but you’re nothing but skin and bones, you need to eat more.”

“Yes ma’am!” Gojo conceded, hands at his sides like a soldier recalling orders for battle, his face flaming.

The chuckles emanating from Kento’s body slowly grew louder, much to your own amusement.

Ome’s mother narrowed her eyes, inspecting his expensive dress shoes, the fit of his pants, the hygiene of his hands and nails. “My Omelia is not a lazy woman and she won’t tolerate disrespect. And while she makes her own living, I want her to be taken care of. Can you do that?”

“Y-yes,” he stammered.

She stopped, unimpressed, and sharpened her gaze. You’ve been on the end of that look before and you couldn’t help the shudder that traveled up your spine. “Yes what?”

“Yes ma’am!” You watched the Adam’s apple in Gojo’s skinny neck bob as he tried to swallow. 

Kento laughed harder, taking another swig of his whiskey and truly enjoying the display. 

“Mama, leave him alone,” you eventually chided, though you couldn’t suppress your own laughter. She relented with a roll of her eyes, granting Gojo a final, evaluating glance before clicking her teeth.

“How about you get me a drink then?”

It was more of a command than a suggestion, and thankfully Gojo had been around Ome long enough to decipher the true meaning behind words when spoken from her to catch on. He offered his arm to her, and gave a nervous smile before she conceded and let him pull her away.

Gojo threw a seething glare back at Kento and your husband tilted his head back and guffawed. You felt like you were in the Twilight Zone, to see him so carefree, so blissfully happy and laughing amongst his family and friends.

When you glanced over at Kento, his wide smile and high cheekbones emphasized his beauty, and as he stroked your thigh, his gaze met yours before he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. 

“How much longer?” You could practically taste the impatience in his voice as it wafted down to ghost over your face, and when he nipped your bottom lip, it told you all you needed to know about his current state of self-restraint. 

You had changed from your wedding gown hours ago and you didn’t miss the way his eyes took in every inch of your halter top long lace dress that split up one side for him to slide his hand against your shea butter-scented brown skin. Despite it being October, it was incredibly warm, but the hairs on the back of your neck stood up straight when you watched his gaze darken just a little more than what was decent for the public eye.

“I’m sure not long now,” you offered in reassurance, though your self-control wavered when he traced his lips along your ear. The locks of your curls kissed the skin of your temple, fluttering in the light current from his breath. 

What needed to take place during a reception again? You cut the cake, speeches were said, dances were made, and food was served. It was just merriment at this point until it was time to send off the couple. And you needed it to get here and fast. 

“I like this dress,” he whispered, the timbre of his voice caressing the fabric of your dress before sliding up your legs to the pulsing heat between your legs.

Composing yourself, you took a sip of wine, focusing on the sweet taste sliding down your throat and trying your best to maintain an air of decorum despite the temptation whispering in your ears. No one was paying attention; it was all fleeting glances at the happy couple as they all danced and drank and ate with each other. But you knew if you gave Kento an avenue to get in your panties, he might not be a gentleman.

“I’m sure the reward will be worth it later tonight.” Your words lingered in the air, laden with innuendo, thick with lust and expectation. The tension was palpable and Kento sucked a hiss through clenched teeth before downing the rest of his Hibiki in one fluid motion, his leg beginning to bounce in place.

The details of the farewell celebration were a blur—you recalled sparklers and choruses of ‘good luck’ and ‘goodbye’, but those memories quickly faded as you and Kento settled into the backseat of the large SUV that would take you to your hotel in downtown Tokyo. 

Before you could reach for the seatbelt, he was on you. He pulled you into his lap and both of your legs were straddling his waist before you gasped at the feel of hot hands sliding up the skin of your thighs, digging and insistent as if you would disappear if he blinked. 

“Ken,” you whispered, a feeble attempt at a warning, even as his lips found your neck and your eyes rolled with the weakening of your resolve. “K-ken the driver!”

“Hopefully he has earplugs.” 

Dismissive of concern and to the point, his words sent a shiver down your spine, an involuntary clench of your cunt when his teeth grazed the delicate skin of your collarbone. Each caress of his tongue fought to unleash the moan trapped in your throat, rattling and begging to be let free. 

“He can turn on the radio, open the windows, sing as loud as he wants. I don’t care. I need you, now.”

His tongue traced the seam of your halter top dress, pressing firmly against the soft swell of your breasts. He normally had some level of restraint when it concerned his libido around others, but it must be the high of the wedding, the delicious thought of having a wife that had him hard and throbbing against the thin fabric of your panties. His grip tightened on the meat on your hips, and he rolled you hard and long against him in a way that made a honeyed gasp slide from his lips.

But you had to stop him because the minute he slid inside of you, you would be a wanton and moaning mess and the driver might need to quit out of sheer embarrassment. 

The penthouse suite was only a short stop of reprieve before your flight tomorrow afternoon. Your bags were already sitting against the floor-to-ceiling glass windows and the floor was decorated in an array of red flower petals that you and Kento both glared at before meeting each other’s eyes and laughing.

“So ridiculous,” he chuckled, kicking his expensive shoes against a petal and watching it slide across the hardwood floor. He approached you with gentler steps, a little more timid now, and took your hands in his. 

“Champagne?” he offered, voice low and tempting and you nodded in response against the way your belly simmered with awakening desire.

Ome did a good job on the lingerie. The orange hue was a compliment to your brown skin—a color that Kento had previously voiced loving on you—and it accentuated your curves, curves that Kento never tired of admiring and you knew would be worshipped without pause tonight.

You were more comfortable in your skin now, the faint stretch marks and roll or two were cherished tokens of motherhood and love, embodying a journey that was far deeper than aesthetic perfection. 

You would definitely have to thank Ome. Because the way he stopped speaking into the receiver of the phone when you emerged from the bathroom made you hold in a snort. He had seen you in lingerie before, but from the look on his face, you cataloged the designer in your head to buy more of their outfits later. His eyes widened fractionally, grip on the phone slackening as he took you in, unabashed in his admiration as he spoke calmly into the phone. 

“Make that two bottles of champagne actually. Just leave them at the door, no need to knock.”

You giggled as you watched him hang up the phone and slip off his shoes, eyes not once leaving the slow outline of your form before he made his way to you. 

“Is this my reward?” His fingers lightly traced the lace adorning your breasts, his touch igniting a flame in your belly that you were all too familiar with. “It’s exquisite but I’m afraid it won’t last long on you.”

“A shame,” you purred, guiding him to recline on the expansive bed with a playful nudge. He shot you a devilish smirk, and the sight made you lightheaded. His carefree demeanor was palpable, a side of him so unguarded and joyous. You wouldn’t be sleeping at all tonight.

“Try to make it last, it was expensive.”

He hummed noncommittally in response as you climb on top of him, his cock flagging instantly from the feel of you hot against him. Even through the thick fabric of his tailored pants, he throbbed hot and heavy, ready for you in almost an instant. 

A harsh slap to your ass made you jump, eliciting a whimper from your throat, your body instinctively grinding against his clothed cock in a Pavlovian response.

“I’ll buy you more,” he promised, deep brown eyes now paper-thin rings as he snapped a strap of your lingerie against your thigh, marveling at the way you twitched, his lust permeating the room. 

The champagne bottles remained forgotten at the door, warming in the night and untouched for the rest of the night.

***

It was always a far away dream.

Kuantan, Malaysia was just an island that he had always yearned to visit when he was younger. Of all the places, it was there that he saw himself the most serene and at peace. He would retire at the age of thirty-five with more than enough in his bank account to sustain him, his children, and his children’s children, bring a wife—perhaps accompanied by a child or two—to the sandy shores, and immerse himself in good food and an endless array of books he had yet to finish.

He had planned for a nice honeymoon in Okinawa with you, imagining a blissful week of sunbathing, indulging in exquisite cuisine, and having as much sex with you as both your bodies could muster.

But like the enigma you were, you had booked everything in a farce and the plane you both boarded was bound for Kuantan. Even when he tried to pry more information from you, you deftly diverted his attention, presenting him with an itinerary adorned with your infectious enthusiasm, charming away any resistance that he had.

It was always a far away dream.

But it was a reality now with you—his wife—sleeping in his arms, your legs entwined with his upon the silken sheets of a spacious king bed in a bungalow that was your abode for the next few days.

He left the windows open again, inviting the soothing symphony of waves, the distinctive aroma of salt and sand, and the hypnotic sight of the ocean’s smooth horizon. It all welcomed his senses as he pulled you closer to him. White sheer curtains billowed in the beachy breeze, and with each tuft of wind that filtered into the bungalow you both shared, it brought a level of peace that he hadn’t anticipated arriving so soon in his life. 

Your body wash was different this time—lavender, not your usual lilac—but still a compliment to your shea butter-kissed skin. Your cheek rested on his bicep, a hint of drool on his skin that he would refuse to let you in on unless he was feeling particularly teasing. Your bonnet was askew on your head, the hint of curls poking from the side by your ear. There was a fading bruise on your neck, faint and purpling from his teeth a few nights ago. You would probably glare at him for having to put concealer on it as you hated the way it stuck to your skin in the heat. 

He didn’t mind being scolded for it. Not by you, anyway.

Put a ring on Nanami Kento’s finger and whisk him away to Kuantan, Malaysia, and watch as all semblance of decorum evaporates.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumbled, half-awake yet aware of his gaze as you opened the eye not pressed to his bicep to glare impishly up at him. 

The sound of your voice made his heart jump, it always did, but recently he had felt loose and raw and open, a perfect view for you to touch the beating organ in his chest with your delicate hands. 

“You were in a deep sleep seconds ago, how did you know I was staring?” he inquired.

“Intuition—you love me too much to leave me alone even in sleep.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

As you languidly rolled onto your back, he hovered above, studying your features. The subtle impression of sleep creased your cheek, the corner of your lip was wet with drool, and your eyes squinted slightly, adjusting to the morning light. A normal sight of a sleeping woman, but to him it was the most beautiful canvas he had ever seen. Raw and unfiltered, a picture he had seen so many mornings and nights before, but still felt as if it was the very first time. Even seconds after waking up, you were the epitome of beauty.

His wife. 

You pulled off your bonnet, and the braids he had confidently mastered rested on the silk pillowcase beneath your head as you relaxed back into the sheets. Your fingertips lightly grazed his cheekbone, beckoning his attention.

“What would you like to do today?” You asked and watched with a lifted brow as he hummed and leaned to press his lips to the exposed slope of your shoulder. “Or is the agenda just us being in the bed?” 

A nip to the soft skin of your neck made you gasp, and his tongue smoothed over it to soothe the slight sting.

“Breakfast first,” he mused, a lighthearted tilt to his tone as his lips trailed hot down the column of your neck. 

Your t-shirt was pushed up in less than a second, exposing every inch of naked skin that he dutifully pressed his lips to. The saltiness of your skin was faint and when he circled a nipple and brought it to his mouth, there was a hint of strawberries that he had eaten off your body the night before. 

The gasp that left your lips was heavenly, short and clipped, always asking him for more as he licked and bit the pertness of your peaks before sliding his affection down your torso.

“Then…then let’s go eat,” you offered, even though it fell on deaf ears. You knew this. And part of you was teasing him, trying to keep up with the façade more than anything as your eyes watched him kiss a worshipping line down the planes of your stomach.

He cataloged the way your throat bobbed and the sound of a gasp catching in your throat when he finally dipped a dripping tongue over the hood of your clit. Your legs parted for him instantly, beckoning him to settle in between as you bunched your hands into the silk pillow beneath your head. 

“T-there’s a nice restaurant up the beach that you might like.” 

He laughed at your attempt to distract, low and dark in a way that made your cunt quiver in anticipation. He smiled against your already dripping cunt and slid his tongue deep within you to pull a tight moan from your lips that made him chuckle again. 

The meat of your thighs was covered by the softest skin he had ever felt, moisturized religiously and free of scars, and he dug his fingertips deep until it pillowed between his fingers and opened you more for him. 

He pulled away to press a hot kiss to your clit and reveled in the way you jumped, your stomach and chest heaving with increased breaths.

“Different kind of breakfast, my love. I thought you would have caught on.”

He was back on you before you could say anything smart, and he watched gleefully as you sunk into the silky sheets and twisted the fabric in your hands. He had memorized every inch of you, created his very own manual for how to take you apart, and used that guide dutifully with the way he licked your clit in light and solid strokes that made you wetter in the warmth of his mouth, sucking the glistening bud between his lips when he was feeling more glutinous. 

“Kento, please.”

Your call for him was a sweet melody to his ears, and he complied with your desires using two, then three fingers inside of you, pumping fluidly. He was delirious with you, foggy-headed as he reveled in the sound of your escalating cries and pleas, your body arching and yearning for more as his skilled fingers brushed that spongy spot on the roof of your walls. 

It gave him the reaction he desperately loved to see, a sharp hiccup from your lungs and a loud moan into the air before you clamped down on his fingers and gushed over the digits. Captivating, and he dipped down to taste your essence around his fingers that pumped languidly between your legs.

He could hardly calm down from his own excitement because not even a minute later you were asking for more, tugging his boxers down with your feet in practiced impatience. Soon he was naked and hovering over you, tilting full lips against yours that were still wet with your slick.

“Don’t deny your wife,” you whispered into the small space between both your lips and his as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer with a strength that always surprised him when you were horny. The tip of him leaked precum, parting your folds in a mischievous ask that made you whine when he refused to indulge you. 

“How many will you give me?” he questioned, his voice lower and seductive, as he slowly entered you, relishing in the sensation of your warmth enveloping him. The column of your neck was bare for him when you arched your back at the feeling of him inside you, delicious brown skin free of blemish but already sprinkled with a light sheen of sweat. “Hmm?”

“I don’t—” you swallowed hard against a dry throat, your fingers digging hard into the skin of his back as he started a steady pace. “I don’t know. You already made me cum once I can’t—one more.”

“One more?” he punctuated his teasing question with a rolling thrust that made your cunt squeeze him like a vice. He clenched his teeth through it and savored the burning pleasure at the base of his spine with every thrust of himself into your welcoming heat. You were wanton, uninhibited, and lost in the moment with him, digging your manicured nails into his skin and moaning harshly into the air without any care of locals outside the window who might be listening. 

He caught a flash of your ring, the diamond that he made sure was cut meticulously before a cent was handed over, and his stomach quivered as you slid your hand between your bodies to brush against your clit. But he stopped you, catching your wrist and his thrusts came to a stop, the action making you whine in frustration.

“If I only get one orgasm from you, then I’m going to make it last,” he murmured against your lips, a soft smile twitching on the edges at the sight of your pout. A gentle crease between elegant brows and subtle pursing of your lips made his heart give a warming leap in his chest. 

 “You know since you’ve gotten married, you’ve become awfully stingy,” you grumbled up at him.

A carefree chuckle vibrated from his chest as he leaned down to kiss you again, stealing the sweet flavor of strawberries from your lips. 

“I suppose I have,” he admitted playfully. “How can I make it up to you?” With a deliberate roll of his hips, the skin of his abs brushing against your clit, you dug your nails harder into his skin. “Tell me?”

He would do anything for you—set the world ablaze, give up everything, get down on his knees and ask for your hand over and over again if it meant you would smile at him for a second longer. He knew that you would never make him stoop to such levels, would never ask him something that would hurt him. But the hold you had on his mind, on his body, on his heart was so tight and gripping that if you ever let go he was sure he would fall apart. And only you knew how to seamlessly put him back together. 

“Fuck me,” you finally demanded of him, voice thick with desire and trembling with a barely suppressed whimper. And because he could never deny you, he gave to you fully. 

He worshipped every inch of the skin of your neck, drank the sweat on your collarbone, and let his tongue press against your skin to vibrate with each moan that passed from your lips. Every stroke that he gave made your eyes clench tightly from a source of pleasure that started from a simmer and roiled into a boil that seemed to radiate from your skin.

One of your braids had come loose, your curls sprawling across the silk pillowcase as the force of his thrusts get harder and faster. Traces of sleep still etched on your cheek, and your lips parted in a delicate dance with each sound that escaped them. The very mention of his name stirred a fierce primal instinct within him, something he might have felt ashamed of, if it hadn’t fueled a ferocious intensity in his movements, each driving into and fighting against the increased tightness of your cunt around him. 

“Kento,” you managed to voice, delirious with passion, your gaze heavy-lidded.

“Again,” he urged into the air that puffed from your lips. “Say it again.”

“Kento.”

He rewarded you by intensifying his pace, harsh and thorough thrusts that slapped against your clit over and over so you could moan and hiccup in his mouth.

You were wrong. Marriage hadn’t made him stingy when it came to you. 

He had always been this way. Since the moment you dropped your walls for him to come closer, he had taken every morsel of affection, desiring you solely for himself, distinctly irresistible. You were too unique to be shared with anyone else, he wouldn’t allow it. You were his to hold, his to kiss, his to love until the last breath left his lungs many, many years from now. And he hoped that if there was some form of an afterlife for him, he would find his way to you and take love from you some more.

So until that day came, he would be stingy every chance that he could get.

Your legs wrapped tighter around waist and pulled him further inside of you, and the feel of you impossibly hotter around him made the corners of his vision go white. Without a sleeping daughter down the hall, you and Kento had been going at it whenever you could and on whatever surface that was durable. He went to sleep every night spent and satiated. 

But now he was paying for it. Because the way you started to flutter around his cock made his balls draw tight and his stomach clench in a sweltering pleasure that rose to the surface of his ocean of control unexpectantly. There was an ache in his thighs, a burn in his lower belly, a trickle of sweat that he could feel slide down the crevice of his spine and he was dangerously close to losing it all.

“Say it again,” he commanded again, voice tight with restraint.

“Kento. Kento. Kento, please—I can’t.” You were taut, your voice thin with each breath and your fingers were daggers in the skin of his back. He hissed against the pain, took it for his own and harnessed it into a fuel of pleasure that made his fingers dig into the silk on each side of your head.

“Tell me what you want,” his voice saccharine against your lips, tender against the backdrop of fervent need.

“I wanna cum,” you confessed, practically pleading with the look in your eyes. “Please—” your words choked off when he reached between you both to brush his thumb against your throbbing clit. The conviction in your eyes was steely, hardened, and overwhelming as he stroked your bundle of nerves with a precision that pulled a melody of ecstasy from your lips. 

It was a means to a blissful end, and he savored every step that led to that breathtaking finish. Your furrowed eyebrows, halted breaths, quivering stomach and thighs, deepening grip on his back, and the exquisite tightening of your core all fought with the ‘fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!’ that escaped your lips before that cord in you snapped with a deep thrust of his cock. 

The scene unfolded like a masterpiece before him, a sight so mesmerizing that it became his source for the hot pleasure at the base of his spine that finally exploded an ecstatic sensation through his body, pooling along the contours of his pelvis as he spilled inside of you. His eyes rolled in the back of his head, arms tight and a groan sliding out of his lips as he rode his high and gingerly laid on top of you.

Your fingers weaved through his hair, both of you catching your breath as you gazed out the open window, admiring the rising sun and the rhythmic dance of the waves. In the distance, the call of an elusive bird echoed, one you had been eager to spot since arriving. Today might be the day you finally laid eyes on it. 

A flutter of sensation washed over you as his lips pressed a soft kiss to the skin of your stomach. Then, propped on an elbow, he rested his chin in his palm, watching you with a newfound attentiveness. You met his gaze, taking in the mahogany depths of his eyes as they settled back from the intensity of moments ago. You took in the hair along his hairline that was dark with sweat. That tired disposition he always held was no longer there, the faint lines beneath his eyes gone. It occurred to you in that moment that it had been an eternity since he looked tired, and you couldn’t help but wonder if the joy that both you and Ulani had brought into his life had fulfilled a long-sought purpose. You hoped so.

“Does it bother you that we chose not to do vows?” he asked unexpectantly.

Shaking your head, you replied,  “Both of us have always been a little shy when expressing our love around others anyway. And I know that you will only show your vulnerability to so few, so it seemed like a great compromise for both of us. Besides, I don’t need to hear out loud what you will do for me. I know what you will do for me. You do it every day.”

He responded with a noncommittal hum, fingers twirling a lock of your hair. His contemplative silence allowed you to savor his relaxed yet serious demeanor. He was a stoic man, but he was your stoic man who smiled only at you, teased and played freely when you were near, showed his teeth when something was particularly funny, and snored every single night.

“I’m glad you came to the summit that week,” he finally spoke, and even though his eyes were still on the way his fingers twirled your curls, you kept your gaze on his. “I’m glad that it was you who took my angry words and gave them right back to me. I’m glad it was you who challenged me and made me realize that the mundanity of everyday living isn’t something that has to be adhered to…that I could chase a dream even though it terrified me.”

He threw you a lift of a dark blonde brow, enticing in his own way even though you could see traces of anxiety along the features on his face.

“I’m glad that even though we both were so annoyed with each other, we still shared that night together. I’m glad that I was smart enough to fight for you even though I had hurt you so much. I’m glad that you were forgiving enough to let me in. I’m glad that you allowed me to see a side of you that others haven’t. You’ve shown me how wonderful of a woman you are, and I could never fathom being with anyone else.” 

A finger caressed the skin of your bottom lip, outlining the plumpness of your flesh. 

“You’ve given me a beautiful daughter, a strength with a level of grief that I could not have handled alone, a first step with decisions in my life that I can never seem to make without you. You make me so happy. When you tease me, the way you grab your stomach when something is really funny or the fact that you will not use any hot sauce unless it’s Red Hot.” You didn’t expect to chuckle, and the sound caught you by surprise and made him smile softly before he continued. “…The way you love your family and your friends, the dedication you put into your work as a ceramic artist… it’s overwhelming how happy I am to be in your life.” 

The hand in your hair grabbed your fingers of one hand and brought them up to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the skin of your knuckles, tender and slightly chapped. Your throat was tight since he first started speaking and the stinging behind your eyes refused to go away with every blink you made. You hated how good he was at this. It made no sense to be this loving.

“You are everything to me, even when we fight and I’ve been banished to the couch, or on the days where we just can’t seem to get anything right. And I promise to love you until the very end of my days. I’ll find you in this lifetime and the next. I’ll never part from you. You have my heart, my body, my mind, and my soul. All that I am, now and forever, will always be yours.”

You didn’t bother to wipe away the tears that fell from the sides of your eyes and down your cheeks. They would just keep falling anyway. You were used to hearing such beautiful words from him, but it was his informal vow that overwhelmed you—a pledge of love that you realized was more profound than any formal promise in front of his friends and family.

And that made you cry a little harder.

His eyebrows furrowed in concern before he wiped the tears from your cheeks. “My love, what’s wrong? What did I say?”

You hiccupped, not bothering to be ashamed anymore now that you were sobbing uncontrollably. 

“We weren’t going to do vows so I didn’t even—yours sound great! Like something stitched on a pillow and I’m sure you spent weeks drafting it, damn you! I—the only thing I have to offer is an ‘I love you’. I feel stupid. Be a deadbeat for once! Stop being so fucking perfect all the time. I can’t take it.”

You could feel him stiffen above you and it gave you time to control yourself and wipe at your leaking eyes before the bed began to shake. The feeling was odd, until you realized where it was coming from. 

Kento hovered above you, laughing with a deep smile on his face. His teeth were white and straight, and you noticed one of his canines had a small chip on the side. His blonde hair cascaded over his forehead like strands of autumn wheat, and the melody of his laughter tickled your ears, an angelic sound so seldom heard—a cherished rarity, likely witnessed only by his mother when he was young. But here you were, privy to this intimate display, eliciting it from him effortlessly.

Your heart slammed against your ribcage as his lips, still trembling with laughter, grazed your nose.

“My love,” he whispered, a hint of earnest longing in his voice. “an ‘I love you’ is the only thing I will ever want to hear. As long as you allow me to love you, I will be a happy man.”

You could deal with that and although you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his infectious grin, you encircled his neck with your arms. “So…how many times a day do you expect an ‘I love you’?”

His reply came in the form of a kiss, and with it, you sensed a newfound fervor within him with the way he stiffened inside of you. 

“Once in the morning and before bed. On the days you wear your hair down. When I make the brownies you love so much. Wh—”

“That’s an awful lot and I have things to do,” you interrupted, feigning exasperation. “You don’t think that’s a little too much?”

Laughter broke free from him once more, rippling against your lips as his hands tenderly glided down your body, wrapping your legs around his waist again and drawing you closer. Faint embers of pleasure licked back to life with each press of his lips against yours and before he could ask for entrance into your mouth, he pulled away to look down at you with a knowing expression.

“You shouldn’t say things that do not make sense.”

You were caught off guard by the familiarity of his words, which sent your heart racing, pounding against your sternum as you took him in. 

The morning sun casted its golden rays upon the bed, illuminating the skin of Kento’s shoulders and torso. The serene rhythm of the waves, crashing against the rocks bordering your bungalow on the sandy beaches of Kuantan, filled the air. The burnt umber of Kento’s eyes were heavy as they studied you, observant and absorbing, calculating without meaning to. 

Vaguely you thought of Ulani and how she shared the same gaze as her father. Observing of the world around her with a bright smile like yours and curls that bounced on her shoulders when she laughed.

The gentle reminder of the very soul that brought you and Kento together made your eyes mist with tears once more before you finally opened your mouth to speak.

“Am I allowed my first one of the day?” You asked, your voice trembling with emotion, unable to mask the sentiment that swelled within you. “I love you.”

It was true every time it left your lips, and just as strong as the time before. And this time it made you pull in a deep breath so you could ground yourself without bursting into tears. The feel of his skin against yours was almost too much, you were overstimulated by the faint smell of his travel-size eucalyptus shampoo in his hair, the hint of woodsy cologne on the side of his neck, and the sight of him smiling softly down at you. You couldn’t take it.

But you need more. You would always need more until there was nothing left.

“Once more, with feeling this time,” he teased.

You gaped up at him, completely surprised by his teasing demeanor before you giggled without control and smacked his chest. “Stop teasing! I meant that.”

“I’m not convinced,” his voice danced with a sing-songy edge and you were fumbling to stay in control of the situation with just how happy and playful he was.

 “I love you,” you tried again.

“Too flat.”

“I love you,” again even though you were giggling into his cheek and biting the skin of his smile.

“Too casual, do be serious, my love.” He smacked the skin of your ass in a manner that drew a blend of shock and laughter from your lips. “Mrs. Nanami, you’ll definitely have to practice more.” The sound of your new last name was a feeling that you had only heard a few times so far, but you couldn’t see yourself getting used to it anytime soon. The smile formed of its own volition, bending the edges of your mouth.  “Whenever you want to say it, I will always listen. But in the meantime, just let me love you. If you’ll allow it.”

Even at your most vulnerable, when you had bared your soul to him, he still humbly offered you the universe, seeking affirmation to make sure it was what you wanted.

“I’ll allow it,” you whispered. 

When he closed the distance between you both to mold his lips to yours for what felt like the millionth time that morning, you pulled him to you so that he could never let go. Maybe when his hips stopped rolling against yours and maybe after another orgasm you both could finally peel yourselves out of bed and leave the bungalow. Kento had a book to catch up on and you wanted to collect some seashells for Ulani.

But for now, it was just you both and the symphony of the waves, the salty air perfuming your sanctuary as he kissed every inch of your skin, soaking your pores with adoration and love that at times was too much for you to breathe through. 

As his lips trailed the curve of your collarbone, sunlight danced on the gleaming surface of your ring tangled in his hair—a tangible symbol of your shared journey, the challenges you both faced and the resounding fact that he still chose you. And when he coaxed your attention back to him with a bite on your bottom lip and another pearly white smile, you realized that it was always going to be you.

It had to be you.

He’d be a fool to settle for anything less.

[randoimago]

Hi, not sure if this counts toward your no-crossover rules but can I have Megumi, Gojo, Maki and Noritoshi with a rival reader who is like Gai from Naruto?

If not then just them with a rival relationship with the reader.

With a Rival Reader

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Character(s): Satoru Gojo, Noritoshi Kamo, Make Zenin, Megumi Fushiguro

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): Reader having the personality of a character from another fandom is exactly why I have the no crossover rule in place (I kept getting tons of asks for Reader with various personalities with characters that it started feeling unoriginal and a bit boring to write).

I will be happy to write the second one for you though!! Also, it wasn't mentioned if Reader is supposed to be an S/O or not so these are mostly Platonic

Gojo

Oh this cocky piece of shit can't help but laugh when he hears that you consider yourself his rival, because he certainly doesn't. He has only known one person that he'd count as a rival and that person is long gone.

Sure, go ahead and keep training and pushing yourself to be stronger. He likes the idea of being used as motivation for you to push yourself (probably makes jokes about you being obsessed with him or smth)

Of course, when he does realize that you do have a similar power level to him, that's when things get interesting. Gojo has very specific goals and way of thinking and so he'll definitely want to get you on his side at least. It'd be fun for the strongest two people to pair up and scare the rest of the higher ups shitless.

Maki

She likes the motivation you give her to get stronger. Not that she needed much motivation from you, but it's a good way for her to access her own strengths compared to someone else.

So long as your rivalry is just as jujutsu sorcerers then she can deal with it. Don't mess with her chances with the Zenin clan though.

If you try to be her rival in other aspects (relationships, for example) then she doesn't get it. Now, if you bring up Yuta then she'll start getting flustered and fight you about it.

Megumi

He doesn't even realize that you view him as a rival. Megumi is mostly focused on himself and getting better with his own abilities. It isn't until you challenge him and actually call yourself his rival out loud that he gets it.

Is a tiny bit amused that you'd declare yourself as his rival when he didn't even view you as such previously. He isn't trying to insult you, his focus just wasn't on you (which still sounds a bit insulting).

Honestly, your "rivalry" ends up with you interacting with Itadori and Nobara a lot which just causes more exhaustion for him since now there's someone else's antics to deal with.

Noritoshi

Doesn't even view you as his rival (this time it is an insult, unlike with Megumi). Noritoshi has very personal goals in mind and he's not going to compete with someone that knows nothing about him.

You can be his rival all you want, but he's not going to acknowledge you. Noritoshi works and does as his clan says. Accepting your challenges or rising to any taunts you have isn't going to happen (unless you mention his mom then he might kill you).

And yet, as much as he claims you aren't his rival, he can't help but be jealous and upset with you. You're able to just casually call yourself his rival without a care in the world. He would love to be able to have the freetime to play along with you, but he doesn't because he has to continue to pretend to be a good boy for his clan if he wants to build a home for his mother to come back.

[tangsakura]

My Response to Sukuna's You Pronouns Post

The post I am responding to was made by @thepersonperson.

So here are my thoughts about the way Sukuna uses the second-person pronoun to people + my other observations. Please read @thepersonperson's post first before reading ahead for a better understanding.

Warning: The following content contains JJK spoilers beyond the anime, so if you aren't caught up with the manga, please DO NOT INTERACT. Also, mentions of homosexuality topic in Edo & Heian periods.

Sukuna's default pronoun is always omae. But the way it's written in the manga tells you how he seriously he is addressing you. When he was talking to Yuta and Haruta, it was written as お前, the hiragana/kanji way, the usual way. Yes, he is talking to you, but he is also nonchalant about you. It carries the connotation of 'okay, he/she is just some person, meh' kind of thing if you get what I mean.

We see this with Ryu, who he wasn't taking seriously because his main priority at that moment was to kill Yorozu, who was in Tsumiki's body. On the other hand, he looked down on Yuta since to him, his curse technique wasn't anything special; if anything, Rika was the one he was paying attention to because Yuta's powers depends on her (I hope I worded this right *sweats*).

Whereas if you look at the way he talks to Maki, Jogo, the Twins, and Yuji, he is using オマエ, the katakana way. I think that he is in the moment and directly talking to them seriously. Obviously, he doesn't see them as equals nor the same level as Gojo, but they got his attention, and he's directly talking to them.

As for Mahoraga, I feel like he is reminding it that its master is him now. He was talking as if Mahoraga is his subordinate and is disappointed that it is not fulfilling its master's wishes.

And here is where it gets interesting for Kisama. The people he used Kisama with are people he sees higher than those he uses Omae with.

Let's take a three-floored pyramid. At the very top is whatever the second person pronoun or whatever he uses to indicate that he considers them as equal, which obvs we will most likely not see him use. At the bottom are the Omae people, and in the middle are the Kisama people. It makes sense that Kisama is higher, since Kisama irl was originally used for respectable people, or even those higher than you in the upper class/ranks.

For Yorozu, I think the reason he used Kisama was because he's trusting her enough to do what is necessary if she ever defeats him. Throughout their fight, Sukuna uses オマエ, the serious Omae, meaning he's taking her seriously but still looking down at her more than Kisama people - Gojo and Kashimo. But when they're talking about what would happen if Yorozu defeats him, he talks as if he was trusting her enough with his 'dead' body (remember, to him, defeat = being no different than dying). Of course, he was not seeing her as his equal nor wants defeat from her, but interacting just enough to indicate to her 'hey, I don't ever want to die (be defeated), but if I ever do, do what you want with me. I trust you to some extent' kind of thing.

For Gojo and Kashimo, he uses Kisama to them because he sees them as someone he would fight with all of his attention, more than the Omae people. The ones who will give him a greater satisfaction, the ones he'll get along with even if it'll only be for a short while. Mind you, these two are the strongest in their era, so you might even think of it as acknowledging them for being at the top of the strength hierarchy in their generations.

Let me first start with Gojo.

In chapter 224, Sukuna calls Gojo "名前をついてないだけの魚" - a fish that merely has no name attached to it.

JJK Chapter 224

Think about it. Sukuna is called many names, including the titles 'King of Curses', 'The Fallen', and 'The Honoured One'. Even Kashimo is called, 'The God of Lightning'. But what about Gojo? In this generation, they call him 'The Strongest Sorcerer', but these two were also called that in their respective generations aside from their famous epithet(s). So what's his name outside of that? This is what Sukuna is telling him - he has no name outside of being 'The Strongest', thus he's just a fish. Don't get me wrong. He still thinks highly of him than those in the Omae level.

(Also, man says 'uo', the older Japanese word for fish, instead of 'sakana' lmao)

Now, in another instance, Sukuna included an English word into his speech and switched to the お前 pronoun. How I interpret this is Sukuna tricking Gojo. Remember, today in Japan, Kisama is a really derogatory second-person pronoun that it might as well be a swear word.

JJK Chapter 231

Sukuna isn't looking down on Gojo that much compared to those in the Omae category - he respects him to a certain extent; but Gojo doesn't see it like that. Gojo definitely thinks that Sukuna is looking down on him so much and that he is insulting him. When Sukuna remarks about the 'countdown until that smirk of yours disappears', Gojo sees it as a sign that Sukuna has elevated Gojo and sees him as an equal in the battlefield, indicating that his attacks dealt a tremendous damage on Sukuna. But about the countdown word, I think it may have also come from Yuji's and Megumi's influences that he uses a few English words here and there, but definitely he talked a bit like a modern person to seem like he was trying to connect to Gojo. We might as well say that he was taking advtange of modern Japan's language and societal norms to play on Gojo's mindset.

Anyways, unfortunately, in Sukuna's view, he was now nonchalant. Remember what I said previously about お前 for him - he's not serious in his interaction to the person he's using that to. So while it might not have been obvious to Gojo, it should be obvious to the readers, assuming they pay attention to how he uses his Omae pronoun..... that there was something strange with him. What's going on? Of course, we eventually find out what he has under his sleeve in ch 236.........

And as for remembering part of Yorozu's words..... it isn't clear when you read it this chapter alone, but once you read chapter 238, it makes sense.

JJK Chapter 238 (English Translation)

In that moment, Sukuna recognized that Gojo is having a hard time with making sense of 'love', that Gojo is dealing with solitude but hasn't come to terms with it. It made sense now as to why Sukuna remember Yorozu's words - chapter 238 confirms this through his dialogue. (I swear, this man knows how to read a person's psyche and personality so well and he uses it against people (e.g. Yuji)

Also, Yorozu's default second-pronoun, at least with Sukuna, is Anata, which is feminine and is the usual female second person pronoun regardless of the female's relationship to the person she's speaking with. Women also uses this to call their spouse or lover, just as how men will use omae or kimi to their spouse or lover (though, if we're talking about Sukuna, I don't think this rule will apply because of how he uses Omae......). Nevertheless, unless we see more of her, I'll consider Anata as her default second person pronoun.

Anyways, after Gojo's death comes Kashimo. Sukuna definitely acknowledges him as 'The Strongest' of his generation, as indicated with his use of Kisama, but he got pissed. He was high at that moment. He was genuinely satisfied. He fought someone who stood his ground and wasn't thrown uselessly around like Jogo did. He got to learn about this unique, calculative and power cursed technique. He was challenged with overcoming infinity, something so difficult to bypass, but overcame it with 10 shadows (shoutout to Mahoraga/Makora), not by his own technique alone. He got a new version of dismantle - World Slash.

He also most likely witnessed probably the most heartwarming afterlife scene for him (I refused to believe that he didn't witness the airport scene with Gojo and co. in their much younger selves - I mean he was there watching Jogo's afterlife scene then goes to interrupt, and does the same thing with Kashimo's afterlife scene), which makes me believe that it was also one of the reasons why he was beaming when he said, 'You are praiseworthy, Satoru Gojo. It seems that I will not forget you for as long as I live.'

JJK Chapter 236

Unlike Jogo and Kashimo, Gojo did not move on to the afterlife full of regrets and disappointment. Sure, he said that he didn't do well enough to reach Sukuna and all, but that was literally inconsequential. Like did you see him with all the people he was with during Inventory Arc, including Riko (no Toji) when he finally passed on? He was all smiles and there was nothing else. He got all the answers and anything else that he needed - the closure - from his peers from the afterlife, understood it all, and came to terms with it. So, there was no reason for Sukuna to intervene and give his two cents to Gojo to give him the closure he needed. That was why, Sukuna must've been happy, because Gojo had a 'proper death', no regrets and disappointment or whatsoever towards the life he led. He nor anybody else alive at the moment weren't needed by Gojo for him to move on.

Anyways, back to the topic of Kashimo.

I believe that if Kashimo had waited for a while for Sukuna to savour the aftermath of his fight with Gojo (I'm not even surprised if he was mourning his death a bit), he would've bothered to 'properly' fight Kashimo. What I mean is fighting him with him knowing about him, including his name. But that didn't happen. Even though he recognized Kashimo as worthy like Gojo Satoru, he entered at the wrong time. Even so, Sukuna entertained him, but if you read their fight, it wasn't the same as the one with Gojo. It felt more rushed and it just felt like Sukuna wasn't doing it for the sake of having fun and learning. It didn't help that Kashimo was being demanding of him for answers to his complications and issues.

Then, in the afterlife scene, when Kashimo was talking to Sukuna, it was noted how Kashimo went from Omae to Anta. I believe this is him not only elevating Sukuna or lowering himself in their interaction, but also letting Sukuna about his feelings for him. Anta is the informal version of Anata and is still feminine enough. When a guy uses feminine language, they are being polite/respectful to whoever they are talking to (unless they don't identify as a male).

Remember, Kashimo was from the Edo period and during that time, believe it or not, homosexuality was rampant among the monastic (monks) and samurai classes. There was this thing called age-structured homosexual relationships. So, basically, somebody young, usually adolescent male, would be in a relationship with their master, a male adult. Until the adolescent one comes of age, they will be in this relationship. Usually the older one is the active and dominant one, while younger one is the one receiving the older one. In the case of the samurai class, the younger one receives the older partner "out of love, loyalty, and affection, rather than sexual desire". There are also male prostitutes, mainly kabuki actors, who are sought by males, as well.

I think Sukuna also recognized Kashimo's attraction to him but he rejects him outright with the words he said to him that love was worthless. I mean, even in Heian era, there were also homosexual relationships. This is evident in Genji Monogatari, where Genji rejected a lady and instead slept with her younger brother. (Also, mind you all, we don't know Sukuna's sexual preferences, so don't make assumptions lmao)

In anycase, this is my two cents regarding Sukuna's second-person pronouns. I hope you had a fun time reading it. Feel free to share your thoughts or let me know what I missed. As usual, I will respond when I feel like it lmao

Until next time!

[hxhhasmysoul]

Hey, I read your analysis on yuuji sukuna and i loved it and i was craving for more so do you have anything more to add into. Like why sukuna is being this handsy to yuji Or keeps talking to yuji although yuuji mostly ignores him.. It reminded me how gojo was trying to do the same thing to sukuna but didn't get much response yorozu too But in yuuji's case their positions have been reversed to the point I am feeling embarrassed on his behalf. 😭😭

I think being embarrassed on his behalf makes sense. He’s really showing his emotions like that.

Sukuna didn’t respond to people who didn’t challenge his convictions.

He was used to being challenged by other sorcerers in the Heian era, they even ganged up on him then to defeat him and it seems like they failed then. And it seems that back then, like in the modern times the cult of strength was what governed the sorcery world. 

Sukuna was surprised that Gojou wasn’t the boss of the modern jujutsu world but Gojou actually misled him about that in a sense. Because Gojou kinda was the boss of the jujutsu world, not the official one but he could do whatever he wanted. Maybe what happened to Riko and Getou made him think that he shouldn’t take over by force. Maybe it was paired up with the thought that if he kills the elders he’d actually need to do some administrative work and take some responsibility for his actions which he avoids at all costs all the time. 

So maybe his plan to train devoted child soldiers to take over the jujutsu world stems from his laziness. Maybe getting Megumi as his first child soldier made him think he hit the jackpot because Megumi has the personality ripe to be turned into a professional bureaucrat. 

Sorry for the tangent, back to Sukuna. 

Sukuna was also revered in the past, like Gojou in the present. He also existed kinda on the side of the official power structure. Crowned the strongest and feared and worshipped, but not exactly in charge. Probably also because he didn’t care about ruling, he preferred to look down on everyone, like Gojou. 

Unlike Gojou he wasn’t worshipped from the day he was born. His mother was likely poor, she possibly was scared of him when he was born and abandoned him. Or the people around her forced her to abandon him. 

And he still ended up on top. He still became worshipped. He’s very much “what’s your excuse” towards the weak. But he also has no illusions about those who are strongish from his point of view. Those people suck up to him, want to add him to their power, want his attention and acknowledgement. He doesn’t respect that. He has no interest in their selfish goals.

Yuuji doesn’t care about him, so he feels like he needs to get to the bottom of that. Also Yuuji is now becoming a serious threat to him in ways that none of those selfish people ever were. 

Yuuji is of his bloodline but so different from him. He is something Sukuna surely has potential of being. 

I think Sukuna has always seen himself as the peak form of being Sukuna. That after absorbing his twin and possibly locking his soul inside himself, he has then perfected himself. He’s got exceptional knowledge of jujutsu rivalled and possibly surpassed only by Kenjaku’s and Tengen’s. His body is very strong. He’s an amazing strategist. 

But Yuuji has the potential of being more than him. And the difference is in personality. Kusakabe may dis Yuuji all he wants and pretend Yuuji has nothing special to him. But the fact that Yuuji is still sane after so many body swaps, or how quickly he’d learned everything before they figured out that he can be swapped into. Sukuna wasn’t fucking training him. Sukuna was doing everything to break Yuuji’s spirit. 

And he failed. The whole jujutsu world threw everything it could to destroy Yuuji and they failed. 

That’s why he’s so focused on Yuuji. That’s why Higuruma briefly caught his interest, because Higuruma also had convictions that weren’t in line with the jujutsu world’s norm. That’s why Maki also interests him, because she a) is curious for his jujutsu nerd side, b) she has also persevered and achieved incredible strength despite being rejected by the jujutsu world. The world that elevated and worshiped him, that bolstered his philosophy is crumbling in front of him and the people who are challenging him truly are the antithesis of that world. And Sukuna is nothing but curious. Especially of this kinda version of him that’s the first person that’s actually hurting him badly and is actually close to killing him. 

As to being handsy. 

What I think the canon reason to be: Sukuna is drawn to Yuuji and wants to see how he hurts Yuuji, wants to see his suffering but also wants to study him, understand him. 

What my shipper heart says: he’s missing how close they used to be and he subconsciously wants to be close again. 

[runabout-river]

Thoughts on JJK chapter 266 (Spoilers)

I nearly cried...

We start with Megumi reiterating that he doesn't want to be saved. The last time we saw him he was down on the ground completely crushed. Here, Yuji managed to talk with him inside his domain, giving Megumi the opportunity to fully express himself and his feelings.

The "enough now" also has different connotations depending on the specific phrasing used in Japanese. I read a Twitter thread once that talked about it and how Megumi basically told Yuji that he, Yuji, didn't need to expand any more energy towards him, Megumi. That he could stop saving him because it was all right.

It was said right in the beginning that Megumi sees Yuji and Tsumiki as the same type of person he wants to protect. That was why he selfishly asked Gojo to help Yuji after he swallowed Sukuna's finger.

Megumi's thoughts on the life he wanted to give his sister are so bittersweet. He isn't centered in them so it's natural that without Tsumiki he doesn't know where he could go on his own.

And let's not forget, Tsumiki was the only true family Megumi had left and for one and a half years he tried to save her from her curse only to fail twice. His teenage years were dedicated to her so his mental descend is understandable.

Maki lived through the same loss and compared with her we explicitly see the differences in them. Maki had always wanted to live her life on her own with her own strength which meant that she had to leave Mai behind. When Mai died Maki was mentally able to go on with living without problems but unlike with Megumi's and Tsumiki's situation, Maki and Mai also had a deep conversation and understanding with each other in the end. Maki got to hear Mai's last thoughts and her last wish to destroy them all.

Megumi doesn't have any last conversation with Tsumiki so Yuji has to step in on that front. And he does so with fully acknowledging Megumi's pain and outlook on his continued life.

Sukuna uses Hollow Wicker Basket to counter Yuji's sure-hit and be able to fight him. He compensates the weaker CE output of HWB by keeping his handsign with his extra arms.

I checked, that hand sign is basically the same as Megumi's DE hand sign but with the left thumb up. Its interesting to think about the implications of that.

Sukuna also says the he can't use Gojo's version of getting his CT back up again after a DE because other parts of his brain are still damaged by UV.

We get an extended fight scene next but truth be told I did NOT care about the fight at that moment. Only Sukuna showing how angry he got with Yuji's "pity" was interesting. Other than that I wanted to get back to Megumi.

Bringing back that absolutely iconic panel of Megumi and replacing Gojo with Yuji 😭

That was the part where I stared at my giant monitor and got misty eyed. Especially with Yuji being so honest about how much he would miss Megumi even though he understands and would support him with ending his life.

Its interesting again how Gege chose to leave Yuji's scars for his close up panel. It's probably to show how Mahito's trauma he inflicted on him and everything else he went through didn't measure into his deepest desire to get his friend back.

Until now we also didn't see Megumi's eyes. Even in this panel we get a small Megumi from a memory he had with someone else. But...

Megumi immediately uses his shadows, those we haven't seen since Sukuna got his original body back.

But I also wonder about the implication here: was Sukuna's 10ST rendered non-functional because... he was in his original body? Or because the death of Mahoraga automatically deactivates the technique?

If it's the latter, than that means that with Megumi using his shadows here, he has his own version of his technique, one with his own shikigami who haven't been killed in the fight against Gojo.

The last part of this fight is about how Sukuna went against what he just thought a few minutes ago. He does use Gojo's technique of restarting his CT again. His nose is bleeding because of it though.

Then comes another part of the good guy's long thought out plan to bring Sukuna down. His finger strung up in an unknown location, ready to do... what? We'll see when the Shinjuku Showdown actually finishes soon.

We'll definitely get the merger arc next but there'll most likely be a few chapters of talk and plot in between as well.

But wait!

What is going on with Yuji missing 2 fingers now? We know that one Sukuna finger is still missing and we know that Rika ate at least part of either Sukuna or Yuji to get Sukuna's CT.

But is this finger in the last panel a new finger maybe? One made with Yuji's ring finger?

We'll find out eventually but for now, this was such a deeply emotional chapter...

[aliensupersyn]

Love, Isolation, and Heavenly Restrictions

"Love is worthless" Sukuna vs. "I don't have a heart" Maki.

NOTICE: This was written after the end of 251, weeks before 253's serialization.

TLDR: My case for why Maki will play a pivotal role in killing Sukuna, and showing how her character arc has led to this exact moment. In other words, she's gonna humble the King of Curses. Skip to section four if you don't care for a summary of their combined arcs. Here's the reddit thread if you're into that sort of thing.

I. Fate

Love and isolation have been major motifs throughout JuJutsu Kaisen, mainly concerning Sukuna and Gojo; both these characters satisfy a fateful premise in jujutsu: the existence of the strongest sorcerer of a generation or era. Sukuna, Kashimo, and Gojo all hold the title of "strongest sorcerer" for their respective eras, and for the sake of this post, I will call it a fateful role.

I say fate because Tengen and the omniscient narrator refer to fate as something real that connects certain roles throughout the different eras. For example, it has been Kenjaku's fate to be stopped by a six eyes user.

Toji's existence as an anomaly beyond the power of jujutsu allowed him to break the chains of fate and change the world. By killing the star plasma vessel, something fate was constantly protecting, he opened the doors for Kenjaku to complete his ludicrous plan of merging all Japanese citizens with Tengen.

II. Visual motifs between Toji, Maki, Gojo, and Sukuna

The main (obvious) connections between Toji and Maki:

While Naoya was an idiot, his comparison between Gojo and Toji was not random and should be acknowledged. He recognized the two of them as being the pinnacles of strength. Though, Naoya did not have the sense to understand what Toji and Gojo represented: jujutsu and the rejection of it. Naoya could never occupy the space that Toji and Gojo did. Not only due to his lack of power, but also because he doesn't have the same Heavenly Restriction that Toji and Maki share. Moreso, Toji and Maki represent the antithesis of the strongest sorcerer by being the strongest beings beyond jujutsu sorcery.

Toji, and Maki by extension, have been narratively connected to Gojo, who satisfies the fateful role of strongest sorcerer. Toji's connection to Gojo mirrors Maki's connection to Sukuna. The backstab in 251 seals this connection between the two pairs (will come back to this).

Gojo thinks of the last time he's ever feared loss, and remembers Toji. I believe Sukuna will have a similar moment where he fears loss by Maki's hands which will mirror this page.

Gege has left little crumbs throughout the story connecting Toji and Gojo, depicting Toji to be the antithesis to jujutsu, and finally connecting Toji and Maki. While that's commonly understood, I don't think enough people respect the fact that Toji, Gojo, and Maki's connection meets Sukuna in the end. Gege has tied all four of them together in the narrative, and that's sure to have some major payoff.

III. Love and Isolation

Yorozu, Kashimo, and Gojo all misunderstand Sukuna as being lonely, the latter two projecting their feelings of dejection onto him.

Gojo and Kashimo's sentiments were useless, as Sukuna completely rejects love and calls it worthless. He's not lonely because he's the strongest, he's the strongest because he's alone! Sukuna has evolved past being a human who needs love and he does only what satisfies his own desires. He eats what he wants, he kills what he wants, and he makes anything his own amusement if he wishes to. Sukuna represents a completely selfish outlook that takes and rarely gives. The only thing Sukuna gives is death, and even that he withholds from people who do not interest him.

While Maki appears as being cold, she still cares for her friends. Even before her and Mai made up, she still showed love for her sister, but refused to belittle herself for the sake of their relationship. Maki represents a person who refuses to allow love to hold her back.

Even though Maki gained new powers after Mai's sacrifice, she still could not reach her full potential because she was modeling herself after sorcerers, which she can never be. Maki and Toji can see curses, but relying on her vision only held her back. Her last fight with Naoya was about her finally breaking away from jujutsu's holds and becoming free. First she cleansed her family tree, her namesake that literally connected her to jujutsu, then she freed herself from thinking like a sorcerer altogether.

Finally, she became a demonic fighter. While she appears cold, she still cares for others. She doesn't regret Mai's fate, but instead embraces it and their relationship. Maki's still a heartless fighter, but one who can express care and concern for her allies. She's selfish enough to refuse to allow others to hold her back, but loving enough to protect those she cares about. Sukuna similarly refuses to be held back by love, and therefore cannot be lonely. Maki exists somewhere in the same realm of being loveless, but not nearly as much as Sukuna.

While the two of them share a heartless attitude and a monstrous demeanor, they exist as complete opposite beings. Sukuna's the greatest and strongest model of jujutsu, and Maki's the absolute antithesis of sorcery. Both of them stand alone in their respective extremes, and again, are alone because they are the strongest. Maki's vision of curses, her last remaining connection to jujutsu was hindering her ability to grow stronger; she was blind to her own abilities because of sorcery. Gege makes it obvious that Toji and Maki break the rules of sorcery. Meaning, Maki will be Sukuna's downfall.

IV. Maki's Advantages Over Sukuna

Toji and Maki are the only two of their kind to ever exist. Therefore, Sukuna has never fought a being, a monster like Maki in his entire life. Megumi never found out about Toji or his abilities, so Sukuna still does not have a reference for Maki's abilities. He may be able to recount Megumi's fight against him, that's very limited information, especially because Toji was not full strength. Maki has the element of surprise.

Maki's backstab leaves many questions. The narrator specifies that Sukuna should have been able to sense a sorcerer performing the backstab, but he failed to sense Maki; she is not a sorcerer, but an anomaly, a monster who is not beholden to jujutsu or sorcery. Sukuna's lack of awareness could be because he's been weakened, but he's failed to notice Maki before.

Many people misinterpret this panel to be Sukuna surprised by Maki's aura, but I disagree and argue that he's shocked that he cannot sense her. Both Yuji and Sukuna are suprised by her sudden appearance. Due to Maki not having any cursed energy, Sukuna cannot sense her power and will be forced to rely on sight to find her. Yet, Maki needs neither sight nor cursed energy to fight curses. Maki senses the air's temperature and density, a sight only she possesses that gives her an advantage over curses.

Also, Sukuna sensed that Maki was a problem and thanked Uraume for possibly taking her out:

The top four seek to stop the merger and sever Megumi from Sukuna's body, and Maki possesses a sword that severs souls! Sukuna has been worn down until his cursed energy matched Yuta's, who's now number one since Gojo's died. Keep in mind that Gojo was worlds ahead of Yuta, so Sukuna's power has plummeted and he needs time to recover.

Sukuna's inner monologue in 250:

Maki has the Heavenly Restriction, the sword, the sight, and the timing needed to be able to face Sukuna and possibly even defeat him. Gojo, Kashimo, Higuruma, Yuta, and Yuji were all a means to an ends to weaken Sukuna until Maki could come and clean up (I'm exaggerating).

Maki's entire character arc has been about her clashing with Sukuna. Maki, the monstrous human w/o CE vs Sukuna, the monstrous once-sorcerer with the most CE. Their fight will be about both their ideals and powers. Is strength truly isolating? To what extent does the monster cast aside love? Can monstrous strength be used to protect others?

Edit:

Sukuna's domain may be the only one that works on her (and Kenjaku's but he's dead) because they don't have barrier mechanics. As pointed out by SwimmingStreet8981, "Sukuna showed that he cuts absolutely everything in his domain. He turned buildings to dust without even trying."

Either Gege restores Sukuna's domain to turn the battle once more, or the domain battle with Gojo was for the sake of the top 4 not having to worry about Sukuna's domain. I think the latter tbh.

Questions for their battle:

Now that Sukuna's down to two hands and one mouth, and Maki might be the fastest person in meta at this moment, how much deep shit is Sukuna in?

Will the soul splitting blade be the key to stop the merger? How does that even work against Sukuna?

[sweetbisscuit]

I’m so freaking mad right now, just saw someone comment about yutaxmaki saying it’s garbage and their moment in that classroom isn’t anything like ??? Did we read the same chap of jjk 0?? What do you mean that meaningful moment isn’t anything?? Their whole interaction and arc was one of the best foundation to ship them!!

I don’t usually do this, but I’m so frustrated that I’m going to explain why I love Yuta x Maki ship.

We saw yuta being this insecure and mess of a person because of rikas curse, in everything he did he felt helpless, scared, and didn’t know how he’d live his life. Then here comes maki, the person who made him face his insecurities and showed him a way, a guide, somewhere he can start in order for him to live his life and in a way that gave yuta the push and resolve to change, resulting in his major development, tell me thats not nothing.

Both showed their vulnerabilities to each other and both acknowledged and accepted that. Maki in her own way, made him take a step to change and helped him get better, to fight and be confident in his skills and this things creating an impact within yuta. he literally looks up to her, admires her even, and that admiration, that respect of her strength and resilience, causes Maki to feel confident and accepted, almost as if saying her existence wasn’t a failure like her family claims. Even with the short interaction we saw, those developments was something that, for the both of them was impactful and meaningful that caused them to develop in a good way. With Yuta finding the resolve to change, being more confident than before and Maki being able to acknowledge her own existence. They bring out the best of each other and thats one of the reason I ship the two.

It’s funny really, rereading the first chapter of jjk 0, esp their first interaction, you can see how Maki saw a bit of herself in Yuuta. Maki, from the zenin clan who have felt helpless due to feeling of inadequacy, who was always told over and over that she was weak, a failure, a disgrace from her family; and Yuuta, despite having the protection of the curse felt helpless because of that curse. who convinced himself that he deserved punishment, who, with his tremendous power is considered special (i want to list more ‘cause they parallel each other so much, like don’t get me started on that yuuta-gojo and maki-toji parallel) and yet despite all of that, both of them want to prove and be confident that its okay for them to live.

Anyway, that’s my rant. Feels like I just rambled and said nothing at the same time, but oh well.

Also, just ‘cause you have a diff ship doesn’t mean you have to disregard one of the crucial developments that shaped the two of them and call it nothing, you don’t have to belittle another ship just to praise yours.