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m1ckeyb3rry · 2 years ago

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Hurricanes / Hummingbirds: I

Series Synopsis: As the years go by, you find that it is incredibly difficult to survive wars and fight storms, especially when the only thing you have by way of a cursed technique is the blessing of a tiny bird.

Chapter Synopsis: You meet your new classmates at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x Female Reader; slight Kento Nanami x Female Reader; slight Satoru Gojo x Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.6k

Content Warnings: swearing, enemies/rivals to lovers, character death, canon-typical violence, angst, gore, original characters included

A/N: i become obsessed with kashimo -> i discover there is no content for him -> i write my own fic -> he doesn't even show up until like chapter 8. go figure.

“They say I was born with a hummingbird in place of my heart,” you said, staring at the ground and clasping your hand over your chest. “But that’s not possible, of course.”

“Certainly not.” The man you were speaking to was tall and stocky, with close-cropped hair and the sort of aged, lined face that made him seem exhausted beyond his years. The pursing of his lips was the only deviation from a normal expression he deigned to show, his dark eyes trained on you kept carefully blank, his forehead smooth from any unnatural furrows.

“Well. At any rate, that's what they believed, so that’s why they sent me here,” you said.

“Do you have a cursed technique?” he said. He was a blunt person, this man, evidently seeing no purpose in dancing around subjects and instead preferring to get straight to the point. You shrugged in response.

“I wouldn’t know,” you said.

“That means you likely don’t,” he said, clicking his tongue in disappointment and then crossing his burly forearms across his wide chest. The man was built like a mountain, and you felt so fragile in front of him, as if he could smash you with one step. “At least you can see those ghastly little things.”

“Yes,” you said, pleased to have done at least this one thing right. “Yes, I can!”

“Very good. Then there should be no issues with you enrolling,” he said. “There’s two other first years; you should get along with them well enough.”

“Only two?” you said before you could stop yourself. “Isn’t that — I mean, I’d heard that Japan was the seat of cursed energy, so shouldn’t there be more?”

The man snorted. “You’re an optimistic girl. Sorcerers are a minority no matter where in the world you are. There really are only two. Three, if you’re counted.”

“I see,” you said. “And, um, will you be my teacher?”

“Next year,” he said, his hand roughly thumping down on your shoulder in what was likely meant to be a comforting gesture. “For now, you’re stuck with Hinode.”

“Hinode?” you said. The man let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Kaito Hinode, that insufferable being. He’s the first-year teacher for Tokyo,” he said.

“Oh,” you said. Though you barely knew the man, you had been hoping for the sense of familiarity he would bring. Alone in a place where you recognized no one, at least the man would be someone you could look to as a sort of constant, a variable you somewhat understood. “Thank you…?”

His eyes widened. “Ah. I forgot to introduce myself; forgive me, it’s only that I knew your name already, so I assumed you would know mine. Of course, you’d have no reason to, and I don’t blame you for being confused. I am Masamichi Yaga, the second-year teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech.”

“Thank you, then, Yaga, sir,” you said, swallowing and bowing your head. “I am very grateful for all of the help you’ve given me.”

“It wasn’t ‘help.’ I was just doing my job,” he said. “The higher ups sent me to get you, so you can thank them.”

“Why did they go to such lengths for me?” you said. He actually laughed at the question, and you were sufficiently put-out by his amusement.

“It wasn’t because they particularly cared about you. They’re just desperate for fresh blood. More bodies in the eternal war against curses, you see?” he said.

“That makes sense,” you allowed. After all, if you only had two other classmates, then certainly there was a dearth of people who had the aptitude for sorcery, meaning the higher ups would naturally do as much as they could to foster any available talent, no matter how meager.

“Don’t take it to heart,” Yaga said. “That’s how it is in this world. Anyways, I’ll show you to your dorm room and you can unpack your things. One of your peers will come by tomorrow morning to take you to your classes.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said. He gave you a look out of the corner of his eye as you began to walk.

“You are surprisingly grateful for a girl yanked out of a spoiled life and thrown into a world full of monsters,” he said.

“A spoiled life?” you said. “I guess it could seem that way.”

“Was it not?” he said. You thought back to your time at home, and you frowned slightly, ducking closer to Yaga’s shadow to conceal yourself.

“It was fine. They treated me as well as they knew how to,” you said. Yaga’s severe features softened almost imperceptibly, and he slowed so that you could keep up with him easily.

“That’s the most we can ask for, isn’t it?” he said. Despite his words, you could sense the distaste rolling off of him in waves, wrapping around you like a thorny blanket warding off the old thoughts. Your frown slipped away, replaced with a small smile at the fact that there was even just this one person in the world who cared about what had happened to you.

Your room was small and neat, but it was your own, which made it more than enough. You didn’t have very many possessions, so unpacking your things and hanging up your few photographs did not take very long. There were uniforms already hanging in your closet, the fabrics of which were smooth and liquidy under your fingers, all of them dark-colored like shadows and likely already tailored to fit you.

You thought it might take a while for you to fall asleep, but almost as soon as your cheek touched against the cool silk of your pillowcase, the sun was rising in the east once more. The thought of staying in your bed was tempting, but any pleasure you’d derive from lazing about would likely be canceled out by the shame of one of your new classmates catching you in such a position. So, with a heavy yawn that sent blood rushing to your head, you kicked your blankets off of your legs and resolved to get ready for the day.

The bleary daylight struggling through the curtains was just enough for you to see by, so you did not bother with switching the lamps on — anyways, the dimness was better for your eyes to adjust to. If you had to feel around a little bit, well, that was the price you would pay for comfort.

The daily tasks of washing your face and brushing your teeth and fiddling with your hair were a comfortable routine that you were able to settle into rather mindlessly. Whether here or at home, the act of putting toothpaste on a brush was the same, and you were lulled into a state of relaxation as you milled about, even humming to yourself in a rare fit of joy.

By the time there was a knock on your door, you were completely ready and sitting at your desk, writing a letter you would likely never send. You sprang to your feet and straightened your clothes one last time before opening it, trying your best to seem composed despite your curiosity about who had come to get you.

He was the most dour looking boy you had ever seen in all of your years of living, his very posture radiating exhaustion and gloom. There were heavy bags under his brown eyes, and his blond hair fell limply in his face, parted neatly above his left eyebrow though it was. Though upon closer inspection he really did seem to be your age, some quality of his made it appear as though he was eons your elder. Perhaps it was the permanent scowl, or perhaps the disheartened hunch of his shoulders, as if he were burdened by the weight of many centuries.

“I’m Kento Nanami,” he said. His voice was a dull, deep monotone, exactly what you had expected from him. “Hinode told me to pick you up. You’re the new first year?”

“Yes,” you said, offering him your hand to shake. He raised an eyebrow but took it without hesitation, his grip firm and assured. “Y/N L/N. Oh, I know it’s polite to refer to people by their last names here, but I’d prefer if you just called me Y/N. It’s what I’m used to, you see, since that’s how it’s done where I’m from.”

“Sure,” he said. “As long as you continue to call me Nanami.”

“Yes, I will definitely do that,” you said, having already planned on doing so and seeing no point in irritating him on your first meeting. He seemed to be the stricter sort, a very by-the-book sort of person, and if he really was to be one of your only two classmates, then it would not do for him to think you a boor upon first impressions.

“Thanks,” he said. “Did you eat breakfast? No? You wouldn’t have. We’ll be late for class if we stop by the dining hall, so…here, have this.”

He fished a granola bar out of his pocket and handed it to you delicately. It was lumpy and misshapen, but the wrapper was intact if not wrinkled, so with a shrug, you ripped it open and took a bite.

“Thank you,” you said once you had finished the entire thing and your hunger had been staved off for the moment. “You didn’t have to give that to me.”

He gave you an odd look. “It was a mushed up granola bar from my pocket. I don’t know how much gratitude it really warrants, but I guess you’re welcome?”

“I would’ve been hungry until lunch without it,” you explained. “So I’d say it warrants at least a little gratitude.”

Nanami wilted, his already glum countenance greying even more at your words. You furrowed your brow, hoping you had not offended him, but all he did was open the black bag he was carrying and produce a sandwich for you.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “You can have it.”

“Ah, what is that?” you said.

“A sandwich? Do they not have those where you’re from?” he said.

“Of course they have sandwiches where I’m from. I mean, why are you giving it to me?” you said. He pouted and looked away.

“I thought you’d be a lot more annoying,” he said. “But I guess you’re pretty nice. Sorry for not getting you early enough for you to be able to have breakfast.”

“It’s alright,” you said. “Is this yours? I don’t want to take it if you’ll be hungry without it.”

“No, it’s actually something one of the older students made for me,” he said, rubbing the back of the neck. “I don’t really trust him, though, so I wasn’t really planning on eating it.”

“So you gave it to me?” you said with a snort. You hadn’t tasted anything strange in the sandwich, so you didn’t feel alarmed in continuing to eat it, but it remained that there was some humor in Nanami not trusting the sandwich enough to eat yet letting you do so without remorse.

“It’s not like that!” he said. “Er, well, you see, it’s not that the older student would do anything bad to the sandwich — rather, he would think that me eating it would amount to a declaration of friendship, and as I’ve vowed to stay far away from him, that’d be somewhat inconvenient.”

“I get it,” you said. “Is this older student some kind of a criminal?”

“No,” Nanami said.

“A bully?”

“Hm, not necessarily. At least, he’s never seriously cruel, though he does joke around quite a bit.”

“Um…exceptionally stupid?”

“He’s decently smart.”

“Then why do you dislike him so much?” you said, completely befuddled now. Nanami scowled fiercely, crossing his arms and sticking his nose haughtily in the air.

“He’s fucking annoying, that’s why!” he said, and though by all rights he should’ve sounded whiny just then, his voice remained at that same blank pitch. “He might be strong, but don’t be fooled, Y/N, he and that best friend of his are so incredibly immature it’s actually laughable. You’d do well to stay away from them.”

“I will try my best,” you said. You were all but forced to trust Nanami on this one, since you didn’t know anyone else who could confirm or deny his opinion, but you weren’t too disappointed by that. He seemed to be the unbiased sort, and despite the fact that he had almost made you survive the entire morning on nothing more than a single granola bar, you sensed you could trust him a little. “Though the sandwich was admittedly really very good.”

“Don’t tell him you think so,” Nanami warned you. “He’s that kind of guy.”

“Hm?” you said. “What kind of guy?”

“The kind that’s good at everything without trying and consequently has an ego the size of Tokyo,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t want to imagine what he’d be like if he heard that you liked his cooking.”

“I’ll pretend like I thought the sandwich was horrible should we meet,” you promised.

“Smart plan,” he said, pausing as you reached the entrance to a classroom and giving you an intense stare. It was almost frightening, seeing the lifeless Nanami glare at you, and you shrank back. “Listen. Our teacher, he’s a little strange, alright? So just — just ignore it. He’s as strong as he is ridiculous, so if you know what’s good for you, you’ll go along with whatever he says!”

“Um, okay,” you said, all sorts of thoughts brewing in your mind. What manner of person could prompt such a reaction from Nanami? Was your teacher a sadist? Did he really enjoy torturing his poor students? Should you be afraid? Even Yaga had called him an insufferable being, so maybe you’d do well to be cautious.

There were two people in the room. One was a dark haired boy with large, innocent brown eyes sitting at a desk and cheering on the other, who was chugging a bottle neatly labelled bleach. The man drinking had curly black hair and thick brows, which were furrowed over beetle-bright eyes. With a satisfied sigh, he slammed the bottle on the desk, leading the boy to whoop in excitement.

“Congratulations, Hinode, sir! That’s a new record!” he said. Hinode — as in your teacher, Kaito Hinode — high-fived the boy, the smack resounding through the room like thunder. Nanami scoffed under his breath at the display, quiet enough that only you could hear, and then he cleared his throat.

“Hinode, sir, I’ve brought the new student. Her name is Y/N L/N,” he said. Hinode and the other boy turned to look at you and Nanami before turning back to one another and squealing in unison.

“Aww! Nanami is with a woman!”

“Aren’t they sweet together, Haibara? Aren’t they?”

“Yes, yes!”

“What are they talking about?” you said. Nanami rolled his eyes.

“You can just feel free to pretend like they’re not talking at all. You’ll find it a lot easier to respect Hinode if you do,” he said.

“By the way, was he really drinking bleach earlier?” you said, motioning towards the now-empty bottle. Nanami slapped his palm against his forehead.

“He’s like an alcoholic,” he said. “Hinode, sir, you should stop drinking so much. You don’t need any excess cursed energy right now, so what was the reason for wasting perfectly good bleach like that?”

“I’ll have you know that Haibara here was timing me to see how fast I could drain the bottle,” he said. “The faster I can drink on missions, the faster I can react, right? So it’s for research purposes!”

“Sure,” Nanami said. “Whatever you say, sir. Now, you really should introduce yourself to Y/N before continuing to scare her.”

“Right! Y/N, my name is Kaito Hinode and I’ll be your teacher while you’re a first year at the Tokyo campus of Jujutsu Tech. My cursed technique involves drinking poison to boost my cursed energy reserves, which is why I was drinking that bleach just now,” he said.

“Oh, alright,” you said, relieved that he wasn’t the sort of person to just drink bleach for the humor of it.

“And I’m Yu Haibara! I’m your other classmate!” the boy said.

“It’s nice to meet you, Haibara. Please call me Y/N,” you said. He saluted.

“Will do! And it’s nice to meet you as well. I’m so excited to have another classmate!” he said. His cheer was contagious, and you could not help but beam, matching his energy with some of your own.

“Do the both of you have innate techniques?” you said. After hearing about Hinode’s technique, you were invested in learning more about the different ways that sorcery could manifest in a person, and there was no better place to start than the two boys you would spend the next few years learning with.

“I do,” Nanami said. “I forcibly create a weak spot at the ratio point of seven and three.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“It’s relatively simple,” he said, picking up a piece of chalk and drawing something faintly resembling a whale before dividing it up into ten equal pieces and circling one of the divisions. “See this? Seven and three. If I strike at this spot, the effects are devastating.”

“It’s much easier to see it drawn out compared to when you explained it with words,” you admitted sheepishly. He did not quite smile, but the corners of his mouth twitched upwards in approval.

“I don’t have a technique,” Haibara said with a dramatic sigh. “I just reinforce my body with cursed energy and fight hand to hand. It works well enough.”

“More than well enough, since you’ve made it so far,” Hinode said. “I won’t have any of my pupils putting themselves down — you’re definitely not weak just because you lack a technique.”

“That’s true, sir, thank you. What about you, Y/N? Do you have a technique?” Haibara said. You shrugged and then shook your head.

“I don’t think I do, which, according to Yaga, means I don’t. We’re similar in that sense, Haibara,” you said. Hinode squinted at you incredulously.

“Did he really tell you you don’t have a technique?” he said. “It’s obvious you do.”

“Really?” you said. Though you had not been sad about lacking an innate technique, it was nice to hear that Hinode believed you had one. Like a validation, almost, a proof that there was a reason you had been sent to learn sorcery.

“Hummingbird’s Blessing,” he said. “It’s only manifested once in recorded history, and even that was centuries ago, so I don’t blame him for not recognizing it, but it is a technique.”

“How do you know about it, then?” you said. Hinode winced.

“You’ll think I’m a nerd, but the truth is that drinking poison enhances my perception and my memory, both of which came into play in this. One: I had just read a book about extinct techniques the other day, and Hummingbird’s Blessing was briefly mentioned in it. Two: my temporarily enhanced senses allowed me to see the signs of your technique relatively quickly,” he said.

“I guess that checks out,” you said. “What does Hummingbird’s Blessing do? Is it a good technique?”

Hinode pursed his lips. “Well, uh…the book just said that it allows you to borrow the strength of the hummingbird.”

“What does that mean? It’s not like hummingbirds are particularly strong. Actually, I’d even go so far as to call them weak,” you said.

“Right,” Hinode said awkwardly. “It’s okay! Plenty of people with substandard techniques learn to use things like cursed tools to make up for their shortcomings. For example, there’s a sorcerer named Mei Mei who’s so fearsome with just her battle axe that she rarely even uses her technique when fighting, and she’s still one of the strongest sorcerers in the current era.”

“Yeah, plus don’t forget about Kusakabe!” Haibara chimed in. “He doesn’t even have an innate technique, but he’s going to become a grade one sorcerer soon. It’s possible to be strong without having a special grade technique.”

“Exactly,” Hinode said.

“I guess it’s better than having nothing at all,” you said.

“That’s the spirit,” Nanami said boredly, though this was likely easier for him to say as he had an actually effective technique and therefore would not have to work as hard as you and Haibara would to be strong.

“Say! Let’s let that be our first lesson, then,” Hinode said. He must’ve picked up on the way your hopes had surged and then been quashed, and was now doing whatever he could to cheer you up. “Come on, you three. Let’s go to the cursed tools warehouse.”

“Ugh,” Nanami said. “What a hike.”

“Y/N can’t start training if she doesn’t have a weapon of her own,” Hinode explained.

“Do you think I can stock up on stuff, too?” Haibara said, already ten steps ahead of the rest of you. “I know I prefer my fists, but still, it would be good to have a dagger or two at hand, don’t you think? Right, right, Hinode, sir?”

“Yes, sure, if you find something you like and which the Big Three Sorcerer Families won’t throw a fit over you taking, you can have it,” Hinode said. Haibara pumped his fist in the air.

“Alright! Y/N, this is going to be so fun. Think of it like a huge shopping trip!” he said, waiting for you to catch up to him and then throwing a companionable arm around your shoulder.

“I’m very excited,” you said genuinely. “Say, what did Hinode mean when he said you couldn’t take anything that the Big Three Sorcerer Families would be upset about? Who are they?”

“I forgot you weren’t from around here, so of course you wouldn’t know who they are,” Haibara said, his arm dropping back to his side as he frowned in thought. “They run jujutsu society, essentially. Gojo, Kamo, and Zenin: they’re the most powerful, both in terms of technique and influence, so what they say goes. Most of the cursed tools in the warehouse were found by them, so they belong to them until a sorcerer comes along to use them.”

“They’re fine with random people using their weapons?” you said. “If I was that powerful, I wouldn’t want anyone touching my stuff.”

Haibara chuckled. “You underestimate quite how much ‘stuff’ they’ve got stockpiled. Most of the tools never see the light of the day, even with sorcerers combing through the warehouse at leisure. As long as their stronger weapons are left alone, they don’t care that much, although all of the tools from the warehouse have the condition that they must be returned to the warehouse upon the user’s death.”

“That makes sense,” you said, shuddering at the morbid provision. “It probably only benefits them for more sorcerers to be competent at their jobs.”

“Exactly,” Haibara said. “It’s so cool that I get to teach you about all of this stuff. I feel like a tour guide. Am I doing well?”

“You’ve been very helpful so far,” you assured him.

“Thanks! But enough of my talking. What was it like where you went to school before?” he said. You thought back to your old life, which seemed so far away now that it might as well have belonged to a different girl entirely.

“It was nice,” you said. “Normal. I was friends with people who couldn’t even see curses. I didn’t know anything about sorcery; well, to be fair, I still only barely do. Outside of Japan, there’s very few people that actually understand how curses and techniques and all work, and there are no well-defined governing bodies, so misinformation runs rampant. But regardless, I was the daughter of a wealthy man and a beautiful woman, which meant things came easily to me and people liked me very much. That is to say, my schooling and life were entirely mundane.”

“You speak in the past tense,” Haibara said. He was far more perceptive than you had pegged him for, and you smiled bitterly.

“I’ve always been able to see the curses, of course, but when I was younger, it was explained away as me being a little girl with an overactive imagination. Actually, believe it or not, it was seen as something endearing about me,” you said.

“Did that change or something?” Haibara said. “Wait. That was a dumb question. Of course it did.”

“Yes, it did change. As I grew older and older, it became less and less excusable for me to speak up about what I saw. I learned to keep my mouth shut, but it wasn’t enough — my parents always feared me, were always wary around me, treated me like some monster that they had the misfortune of housing. Their final straw was when I was nearly hit by a car because I had run into the road trying to avoid a curse swiping at me. They took me to the nearest sorcerer; he told me I had a hummingbird in place of my heart, which I guess was probably his attempt at describing Hummingbird’s Blessing, and advised me to be sent to Japan. My parents were grateful that there was a reason that their daughter was such a freak. They didn’t question the man telling them to send me to another country. They just…they just did it,” you said.

Haibara’s face scrunched in sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “I don’t blame them. If I was in their shoes, I likely would’ve done the same. It’s hard to be brave about things you can’t understand. Considering that, they were good to me.”

“If you say so,” he said, though he clearly didn’t agree. His attention shifted, and his demeanor abruptly switched as he brightened and pointed at the door you had finally reached. “We’re here!”

“Step aside, Haibara,” Hinode said. “Let me unlock it.”

Haibara rocked back and forth on his heels in anticipation; it was a comical sight, especially next to Nanami, whose shoulders were slumped in defeat as he dejectedly kicked the toe of his left boot against the ground. He had been reluctant to go from the start, and it seemed he had not gotten any happier about the visit during the walk there.

The door creaked as it opened, leading into a vast, cavern-like room stacked with shelves upon shelves of weapons and tools. Some radiated power, while others seemed almost innocuous and harmless, but there was no doubt that all of them possessed at least a modicum of cursed energy. You understood now what Haibara had meant when he said that the Big Three Sorcerer Families didn’t care about a couple of their cursed tools being shared with random sorcerers — in fact, you doubted they would even notice if one or two dozen went missing.

“I know it can seem intimidating, but just close your eyes and trust your cursed energy to find whatever is best for you. It’s an old-fashioned way of doing things, but there’s nothing wrong with going back to the basics; after all, this way, your ego is removed from the picture entirely,” Hinode continued.

“How do I do that?” you said.

“Trust your cursed energy?” he said. You nodded. “It’s the same as feeling your pulse. You aren’t aware of it until you think about it, are you? That’s why you haven’t been able to sense the flow until now. It’ll take some time for you to be able to really harness and use it for anything meaningful, but finding a weapon is rudimentary enough.”

It wasn’t that specific of advice, but you found it was enough. When you really concentrated on trying to feel your cursed energy, you suddenly were unable to escape it. It was everywhere, swirling around you, flitting between your fingers, perching on your limbs, preening at your neck. Hinode was right in that you could not actually direct it to do anything, but you were aware of it now, which, according to your teacher, was sufficient for the moment.

With your eyes screwed tightly shut, you inched through the warehouse. Your cursed energy seemed indifferent to every single tool you passed, and it must have been at least five minutes of walking at a snail’s pace before something finally happened.

You weren’t sure what weapon had sparked the change, but whatever it was, your cursed energy sang in recognition, spiking and aching for the cursed tool, which was on the shelf directly to your left. Reaching out your hands, you felt about until you grasped the cold metal of what could only be a sword. Opening your eyes when you did so, you pulled it out into the light, your cursed energy settling and fading back into the depths of your consciousness, something that you only thought about when reminded to.

It was a sword, as you had assumed. The hilt was made of ivory, the crossguard a warm silver with intricate floral designs made of enamel inlaid into it. The long, slender blade was white and iridescent with cursed energy that sparked when you touched it. The scabbard beside it was rich, dark wood, mounted in gold that was inlaid with the same enamel flower motifs as the crossguard, though on an even finer scale, the patterns more detailed and the colors even brighter.

“It’s so beautiful,” you breathed. You had never thought you would describe a sword with such an adjective, but there was really no other word for it. It was beautiful, as much a work of art as a weapon for battle.

“Special Grade Cursed Tool, Sword of Syrinx,” Hinode said with a laugh. “You have expensive taste.”

“It's a special grade?” you said, almost dropping it.

“At one point, it must’ve deserved the designation, I’m sure. See, it belonged to some sorcerer from the Edo period who supposedly imbued their cursed technique into it while it was being forged, so theoretically it should be a very powerful tool — hence the ranking. However, either that sorcerer was exceptionally weak or no one’s come around that’s managed to really utilize the sword properly, because so far, it’s never been to anyone’s tastes for anything more than tasteful decoration,” he explained.

Your grip tightened around the hilt. “I want it.”

“Are you sure? It’s not a weapon that’ll hold your hand. I mean, no weapon will literally hold your hand — if you’re incompetent, you’re incompetent — but some weapons are easier to use for beginners than others. The Sword of Syrinx, however, has proven useless even in the hands of trained swordsmen such as Atsuya Kusakabe. Do you really think you will be the one to prove it wrong?” Hinode said carefully.

His words were convincing, but something about the Sword of Syrinx called out to you, a mournful humming of energy that begged for you to keep it at your side. It remained, too, that your own cursed energy hadn’t reacted to any of the numerous other weapons in the warehouse, and that had to count for something.

“It was meant for me,” you said, with more conviction than you had ever said anything in your life. “I will use it.”

“Pretty sword, Y/N, are you going to take it?” Haibara said, appearing from behind a shelf, haphazardly balancing stacks of knives in both of his hands. He peered at the sword and then at you, blinking owlishly without care for the precarious situation of what he was holding.

“Be careful with those!” Nanami barked at him before turning to you and raising his eyebrows when he saw the sword in your hands. “The Sword of Syrinx? You’re more ambitious than I realized.”

“It’s not like that. I’m not trying to prove anything. I just…like it,” you said.

“That’s all well and good, but will the clans give up a special grade item to a first year student?” he said. “I mean, sure, the Sword of Syrinx is pretty useless, but it is still a special grade, and you’re an untested sorcerer who — no offense — has shown no indication that you’ll actually be able to wield it.”

“I think Y/N will be able to fight with it,” Haibara defended. You weren’t sure what you had done to earn his loyalty already, but you were immensely grateful for it.

“Ordinarily, that would be a problem, but if she’s really set on using it, then I think things will work out for the better. She’ll have to convince the current owner to let her have it, but I doubt it’ll take very much effort. After all, he’s very, ah, accessible,” Hinode said, smirking just the tiniest bit.

“You don’t mean to say —” Nanami broke off, face pale with horror.

“Say what?” you said politely.

“The owner of that sword is the older student I was talking about earlier,” he said. “The annoying one.”

“The one that made the sandwich!” you said, picking up who he was referring to almost instantly.

“Yes, him. You’ll have to convince him to let you have it,” he said.

“Okay, but why does it even belong to him?” you said. “Why does he have more of a claim to it than I do if we’re both just regular students?”

“The difference is that you are comparatively a normal person, and he is one of the strongest sorcerers alive,” Hinode said. “As well as one of the most highly respected. It’s not that his personality is all too dignified and worthy of admiration; rather, your upperclassman who currently owns the Sword of Syrinx — and who I’m sure Nanami has warned you to stay away from — is none other than the scion and sole representative of the Gojo clan, Satoru.”

#kashimo x reader #kashimo x you #kashimo x y/n #canon au #reader insert #m1ckeyb3rry writes #hurricanes / hummingbirds

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m1ckeyb3rry · 2 years ago

Text

Hurricanes / Hummingbirds: VI

Chapter Synopsis: Your childhood is ended when you lose someone you never thought you would.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x Female Reader; slight Kento Nanami x Female Reader; slight Satoru Gojo × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.6k

Content Warnings: swearing, enemies/rivals to lovers, character death, canon-typical violence, angst, gore, original characters included

A/N: the only thing i like more than creating found families is destroying them

Winding your arm back, you threw a rock the size of your fist directly at Gojo. It slowed down in the field of his Infinity, and he plucked it out of the air with a wide grin.

“It looks like it’s working pretty well,” you said. A little less than a year after the events with the Star Plasma Vessel and Hinode’s death, in the heat of the late summer sun, Gojo had finally mastered his Infinity.

“Try your technique on me,” he said. “Let’s see if it can defend against that.”

“Sure,” you agreed readily. “Do you want me to just punch, or should I use the Sword of Syrinx?”

“Might as well use the sword. I know how attached to it you are. You probably couldn’t even take a shit without its help,” he said.

“Very funny,” you said, drawing your sword and activating your technique.

Would you like to use the Hummingbird’s Blessing?

You have been given the Speed of the Hummingbird!

You have been given the G-Force Resistance of the Hummingbird!

You have been given the Maneuverability of the Hummingbird!

As Gojo had worked to improve his control of the Infinity, you had pushed your mastery of your technique. It meant that you had spent much of your time in torpor, recovering energy spent from training too hard, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. You would not be caught off-guard again; you refused to let anyone else die the way Hinode had.

Cursed energy coursed through your veins as you appeared by the motionless Gojo, moving too fast for a normal person to quite comprehend, though it was still nowhere near the top speed you could reach with the Hummingbird’s Blessing active.

You have been given the Dive Power of the Hummingbird!

At the last moment, you used the power in your legs to jump into the air, twisting around so that you could imbue the Dive Power of the Hummingbird into your sword as you brought it down on Gojo. If your strike connected, it would have enough force behind it to not only cut through his entire body but also several feet of rock beneath him.

Just like the stone had, however, you grew impossibly slow as you reached Gojo, the sword almost reaching him but never quite making contact. Dropping to the ground with a thud, you cancelled the technique.

You will now enter the Torpor of the Hummingbird.

You swayed in place. Gojo turned off his Infinity so that you could hold onto his arm, your eyelids drooping as you entered torpor. The familiar blackness took over, but it was more like a blink, passing in a flash. Almost as soon as it came, it was gone again.

“How much time passed?” you said.

“Two minutes,” he said.

“Not bad!” you said.

“And my Infinity is working exactly as it should, even though I haven’t turned it off in so long that it should be completely burnt out by now,” he said.

“Nice,” you said, raising your hand for a high five. He slapped his palm against yours.

“I just have to get my Domain Expansion working without any kinks, and I should be good to exorcise any curse, no matter how powerful,” he said.

That was the crux of it. Satoru Gojo had become, in an unrivaled sense, the strongest. Where once at least Geto could be considered his equal, now, there was no one who could stand beside him, not in any way that mattered. There was not even anyone that could touch him, since his Infinity was all but constantly on.

“I’m sure it won’t be long,” you said as you began to walk towards the bathrooms. “You’ve been pretty quick with everything else. Even Yaga can’t shut up about it.”

Masamichi Yaga was the one who had picked you up when you had arrived in Tokyo. As well, he was the second year teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech, and a notoriously hard-to-impress man. He was the epitome of tough love, so the fact that he was extolling Gojo’s virtues was massively to your friend’s credit.

You no longer felt shy about referring to Gojo as such, as your friend. To be sure, you had not replaced Geto for him, and he had not replaced Haibara and Nanami for you, but it was true that in the past year, you both had become closer.

For him, it was probably because you were the only one who had the time to help him practice with his Infinity. You could not count the amount of things you had thrown at Gojo, the amount of tiny bruises you had caused to bloom on his fair skin nor the amount of minuscule cuts you had bandaged for him in the pursuit of keeping his Infinity automatically on at all times.

For you, it was the fact that he allowed you access to his family’s records. When you went back far enough, you had found one single mention of Hummingbird’s Blessing. Apparently, it was considered one of the great failures of the Gojo clan, as the single other sorcerer who had possessed it was supposed to marry into the family before her untimely death. The records never explained the technique, nor did they identify that sorcerer, so your research ended there, but the fact that the Gojos had coveted it meant that it was powerful enough.

In return for your help with his Infinity, Gojo agreed to aid you in developing Hummingbird’s Blessing, and now, you were companions; or, if not companions, then at minimum training partners. But training partners did not seem like a profound enough distinction for the easy camaraderie you two had developed, so if you ever needed to refer to him, it was only ever as friend.

“Unfortunately, I think this is where we’ll have to part,” Gojo said as you reached the bathrooms. “Unless…?”

“Get away,” you said, going to shove him but finding his Infinity blocking your attempt. He burst into laughter, wiggling his fingers in a wave as he ducked into the men’s bathroom, leaving you to roll your eyes and enter the women’s one.

The steam and the heat of the shower was good for your muscles, which were always a little sore after you used your technique, despite the restorative effects of the torpor. It was a reminder that when your technique was active, you were breaking natural laws. For the most part, your cursed energy and — if you were really pushing yourself — the Sword of Syrinx bore the brunt of the cost, but your muscles would never escape unscathed. It would be wrong if they did.

The first thing you did when you emerged from the shower was head towards the vending machines. You were in the mood to drink something, and there were some coins in the pocket of the sweatpants you had donned in favor of your uniform.

When you got there, you were met with Geto sitting on the bench and staring out the window in thought. Inserting the coins into the machine and punching in the code for the drink you wanted, you waited for it to fall down the slot and then reached in to pull it out. Popping it open, you sat down next to Geto, crossing your legs and taking a sip.

“If I asked you what you were thinking about, would you tell me?” you said. He flinched, turning to look at you in shock. There were heavy purple bags under his eyes, and his lips were cracked and dry, the hollows in his cheeks harsher than you had ever seen them. Frowning, you wondered when he had gotten like this. Or had he always been this way? You weren’t sure. You couldn’t quite picture how Geto had looked in the past anymore.

“I’m not thinking about anything,” he said. You offered him your drink; he accepted it, raising it to his lips and taking a swallow before returning it to you.

“Meditating, then?” you said.

“You could call it that,” he said. “Have you seen Satoru?”

“I was training with him earlier, and then we went to shower, so I’d assume he’s still busy with that. You know how long his routine takes him,” you said. Geto smiled, though it didn’t warm his eyes the way it used to.

“Of course,” he said.

“Did you need him for something?” you said.

“No, someone had come to talk to him, but they left already,” he said. You thought about inquiring further, but it wasn’t really your place, so you just finished off your drink, tossing the empty container in the trash can and sighing in satisfaction when it made it in.

“I should’ve joined a basketball team,” you said. “Oh, well. Sorcery is a fine second option.”

“Second option?” Geto said. “You mean, this isn’t what you really want to do?”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye and chose not to respond. “You want a cola or something? I’ll pay.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I’m not that thirsty, and I’d be a terrible upperclassman if I made you pay for me.”

“Alright,” you said, standing and stretching your arms out, massaging your neck ruefully. “Man, this blows.”

“What happened?” he said.

“Just training and all. Using my technique leaves me achy for a bit,” you said. Geto’s shoulders slumped, and he rested his chin in his hands.

“Why do you even keep using it, then?” he said. You thought about it for a second. You could’ve said that it was for Hinode, or some other such altruistic reason, but that didn’t feel completely correct. It was certainly part of the explanation, but there was something else that you had not quite yet put your finger on.

“If I ever find out for sure, I’ll let you know,” you said. “But for the moment, I should get going. Nanami and Haibara are traveling pretty far for their mission tomorrow, so I want to spend some time with them before they leave.”

“You weren’t assigned to go with them?” Geto said.

“No, it’s just a grade 2 curse. The two of them will be enough to handle it,” you said.

“Right,” he said. “Of course, that makes sense. They’d leave their stronger sorcerers in reserve for when bigger problems arise.”

“When, not if? You seem pretty sure that something bigger will pop up,” you said.

“As long as non-sorcerers are around, leaking their negative emotions as cursed energy, something bigger will inevitably appear,” he said. You arched a brow.

“I didn’t know you were so interested in curse theory,” you said.

“It’s a recent development,” he said.

“Hm,” you said, furrowing your brow. “Well, don’t stay up too late reading, I guess. See you later!”

“See you,” he said, staying on the bench and watching as you walked away.

Once again alone, you mulled over the conversation. Why were you a sorcerer? There were a lot of possible answers. At first, it had been because there was nothing else left for you, but now you had enough control of your cursed energy that you could integrate back into normal society pretty seamlessly. Then, it had been out of tribute to Hinode’s memory, but you had saved enough lives by now that any debt you owed to your teacher had honestly been well paid off.

“Whatever,” you said to yourself as you reached Haibara’s room, which somewhere along the line had been designated as your official hangout spot. “He’s just going through his midlife crisis or something.”

As soon as you opened the door, Haibara was shoving a paper plate with a greasy slice of pizza on it at you. You accepted it and took your usual place on the beanbag he had next to his bed.

“You finally made it!” he said, sitting back down at his desk chair. Nanami, who was on the actual bed, continued to chew on his own slice of pizza, though he spared you a nod in greeting.

“Sorry, I was training with Gojo, and then I got caught up talking with Geto,” you said. “Did you know he’s into curse theory now?”

“He’s always been into technical stuff like that. Why are you surprised?” Haibara said.

“That’s true,” you said. “It’s probably nothing. Are you guys excited about your mission?”

“Excited isn’t the word I’d use for it, no,” Nanami said now that his plate was empty. You wordlessly offered him a napkin, which he used to wipe the oil off of his fingers gratefully.

“I’m excited! It’ll be fun to go somewhere new,” Haibara said. “I wish you could come, though, Y/N.”

Ever since you had begun to utilize Hummingbird’s Blessing in a meaningful way, you had stopped being assigned to missions with Haibara and Nanami. You were considered stronger than them now, often sent on missions by yourself or with older sorcerers such as Yaga. Occasionally, you would even accompany Geto, though that was rare. Although you didn’t use your technique unless you absolutely needed to, just the fact that you had it was enough to push you to a different level from the rest of your classmates.

“Me, too,” you said genuinely. You missed the days when you all had done everything together, when exorcising had been a game and all you wanted to do was make Hinode and the upperclassmen proud. But now, exorcising was a chore and Hinode was dead and you three would never be those kids again. “Let’s ask Yaga to get the higher ups to assign us on the next one together.”

Reminiscing was not a crime. Even if having all three of you on a mission would be excessive, it would still be fun, and you doubted the higher ups would be hugely against it if you promised to be quick.

“Sounds good,” Nanami said.

“Feeling nostalgic?” you said.

“As if. The mission will just be done that much faster if you come along, Y/N,” he said.

“And maybe with us supporting you, you won’t have to go into torpor!” Haibara said. He and Nanami were the ones most affected when you were in that state, staying by your bedside and refusing to do their schoolwork or go on missions until you woke up.

“Oh, speaking of which, I only went into it for two minutes after sparring with Gojo earlier,” you said.

“Really? That’s a major improvement,” Nanami said.

“Of course, my technique wasn’t active for that long, but it did give me an idea,” you said.

“What is it?” Haibara said. You shook your head.

“I’d have to test it out first, but that can be a thought for when you guys are back,” you said.

“Okay, sure,” Haibara said. “I forgot to ask earlier, but do you want us to bring you any souvenirs, Y/N?”

“Souvenirs? I can’t think of anything,” you said.

“Come on, there’s gotta be something you want!” he insisted.

“Give me a second to think about it,” you said, throwing away your empty paper plate.

“One,” he said cheekily. “Okay, that was a second!”

“You are so annoying,” you said. “Bring me back something from a convenience store.”

“You want convenience store snacks?” Haibara said. “That’s really it?”

“Wow, not as demanding as I was expecting,” Nanami said. “Considering what you make Gojo bring back for you…

“That’s because it’s Gojo,” you said. “I know he’s going to go out and do random stuff regardless, so I might as well get something out of it. But I don’t want you guys to waste your time and money on me when you wouldn’t otherwise. So, convenience store snacks will be enough to make me happy.”

“If you say so,” Haibara said. “And you’re fine with watching Sora while we’re gone?”

“No problem,” you said.

“I’d hire a dog sitter, but she really seems to like you,” he said. The dog he had adopted after yours and Hinode’s mission was a fixture at the school now, a friendly face that made the pain of sorcery easier to bear. She could usually be found either wandering the campus or playing with one of Yaga’s cursed puppets, which he readily allowed her to do, and even the most stoic of sorcerers would pet her as they passed through the school.

“Seriously, it’s fine,” you said. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind taking care of her for a bit.”

“You’re the best,” Haibara said.

“It’s getting pretty late,” Nanami said. “If we have to leave early tomorrow morning, we should get to bed.”

“Right, sorry to keep you guys up,” you said, standing and hugging them, first Haibara, then Nanami.

“Good night!” Haibara said.

“Good night,” Nanami echoed.

“Good night, both of you,” you said. “Good luck tomorrow!”

“Thanks!”

You woke up late the next day, the sun streaming into your room as you leisurely stretched before getting up and getting ready. You took your time — after all, classes were cancelled for the day, since there was no point in teaching to only one student.

After eating a nice breakfast of your own, you chatted with Ieri as you fed and brushed Haibara’s dog. It was one of the rare days that there was no one for her to heal, so she lit a cigarette and walked through campus with you and Sora for a bit.

The two of you didn’t talk about anything that deep, but that was what you liked about spending time with her. The weather, what books you were reading, your plans for the weekend, it was all entirely refreshing and normal. Being with Ieri was like being a regular girl, and you appreciated her for it.

After walking with Ieri, you went back to the dining hall and had lunch. Gojo was on a mission, and Ieri and Geto had to attend their afternoon classes, so you played fetch with Sora and then got your homework for the week done.

All in all, it was a lovely, peaceful day. You even did a face mask before showering, and the pain in your body subsided a little as you finally got the chance to relax for the first time in what seemed like ages.

The next few couple of days passed in the same way, but by the third day, unease began to creep in and soil the calm routine. Eventually you could not take it anymore; dropping the ball and apologizing to Sora, you shifted directions so that you were walking, then running, all of the way until you reached Yaga’s office.

“Why aren’t they back yet?” you said.

“I was just about to call you,” he said. “Satoru found them.”

“And?” you said. Yaga pursed his lips and averted his gaze, and the silence was enough of an answer, though it was one you refused to accept.

This was worse than it had been with Gojo. This was a million times worse. You covered your ears so that you didn’t hear Yaga’s explanation, filtering out whatever muffled words made it past the blockade — Haibara…first grade…too strong. You would not comprehend it.

Even Hinode’s death had been bearable. Even that you had survived. Not them, though, anyone but them, you could lose so many other people and make it but you could not bear to part with them. Not yet and not ever.

You slammed the door to the operating room open, narrowly missing being hit by a stool, which crashed into the wall and then bounced to the ground on its side. Geto was there, covering something — you wouldn’t look, you wouldn’t look — with cloth, and Nanami sat on another stool, leaning back, a towel blocking out his vision.

“Nanami,” you said. His jaw clenched at the sound of your voice, but he did not otherwise react. “Nanami, where’s Haibara?”

His hands balled into fists at his side. “Shut up.”

“Where is he?” you said, looking around, trying to figure out where the rambunctious boy was hiding. He did that, he liked to play jokes and pranks, so it wasn’t out of character for him to be messing around with you. Though this was not a particularly funny trick, and nobody around you was laughing. “Geto? Where is Haibara?”

Geto motioned towards the table. You shook your head. He placed a tentative hand on your shoulder, though it was trembling, like he could barely keep himself together.

“That’s not true,” you said. “Why would you say such a thing? Where is he really?”

“It ended up being a grade 1 curse,” Nanami said dully. “They said it was a grade 2, which was why we were sent on the mission without you. But that thing, it was some kind of a local god. We didn’t stand a chance.”

“You should rest now, Nanami,” Geto said. “Satoru will take care of it.”

“Can’t he just take care of everything from now on?” Nanami said before fishing around in his pocket, not even lifting the towel from his face before he tossed something in your general direction. Out of reflex, you reached up and caught it.

It was a small box, wrapped in paper. In the corner were three wide-eyed rabbits, and someone had taken a marker and drawn an arrow to the rabbits, writing us! next to it in a familiar scrawl.

“The convenience store snack you wanted. He picked it out himself. Said the rabbits on the packaging were cute,” Nanami said, abruptly standing and marching out of the room, leaving you and Geto alone with the cloth-covered corpse.

“Is that really him?” you said. He removed the hand which rested on your shoulder and stared at it like it held the answers to every one of his problems.

“Yes,” he said. You reached towards the fabric, and Geto did not try to stop you. Perhaps he knew that you would not believe it if you did not see it for yourself, or perhaps he also wanted to confirm it, like the face might’ve changed in the time it had taken for him to cover it up.

It had not. The face belonged to Haibara, there was no doubt about it, though it was blank and dark and bruised in a way you had never seen. He was so animated all of the time, so happy, that the waxy pallor of death was incongruent. His features had dropped into a frown, which was an expression he would never wear on his own, and there was a bloody streak on the fabric where his torso ended and his legs should’ve begun.

“Why?” you said. “Why did it happen like this? He didn’t deserve it. He was better than all of us. So why?”

Why was he dead and you weren’t?

Geto did not respond. You waited and waited, but he never said anything. He just stood there with you in silence, the two of you burning Haibara’s body into your minds, committing it to memory, the exact shade of his hair, the shape of his lips, the curve of his jaw. Then, he turned the lights off and pulled the cloth up over the corpse once again, patting you on the head and leaving you alone.

A few days later, he, too, was gone.

With both Geto and Haibara missing, something in the school changed irrevocably. Gojo didn’t joke around as much anymore. Nanami never smiled. Ieri went through even more cigarettes than usual. You did not leave your room for many days, and when you finally emerged, it was only because Yaga grew tired of caring for Haibara’s dog and someone had to do it.

“Come, Sora,” you said, whistling to call her to your side. She was whining and pawing at the door to Haibara’s empty room, though when you called her, she reluctantly came. None of you had dared to venture inside ever since that day, but every time you took her out on a walk, she begged to be let in. You didn’t fault her — nobody had told her that her owner was dead. She probably thought he just didn’t want her anymore.

Sometimes, you wished you could give Sora away. She was the only one that was still happy, and caring for a creature so reminiscent of Haibara every day was like ripping open the wound daily anew. And this wound, it was one that not even Ieri could heal. It was a wound you doubted would ever heal, so you should at least get rid of whatever kept opening it for you, but you could not do it. A few times, you had tried, going so far as having a manager drop you off in front of a shelter, but every attempt ended with you sitting on the curb and crying as you held her close to you; she, who was the last thing you had left of him.

You still hadn’t eaten the snack he had bought for you. Probably you never would. It sat on your shelf next to the Sword of Syrinx, collecting dust in its place of honor, the us! and the arrow growing faded with time but never erasing completely. The three rabbits still curled together, frozen in happiness, not knowing that one of their group had vanished forever and left the others shattered.

Nowadays, you and Nanami barely spoke. It was too hard, because every good memory you two had together was tied to Haibara, so beyond formalities and school-related business, you did not talk. The last real conversation you had had with him was right after Haibara’s funeral. You had sat together in front of the headstone, and then Nanami had told you he wished he had been the one to die. He said that Haibara would’ve known how to deal with everything afterwards better. You told him that that wasn’t true and that he was dealing with things fine. He told you to stop lying, so you didn’t say anything else. In such a way, you lost both of your best friends at the same time.

“Go play with Yaga now, alright?” you said to the dog, unclipping her leash and shooing her in the direction of his office. She bounded off willingly, tail wagging all the while, and once you were sure she was gone, you got in the car.

“When should I pick you up?” the manager said when you got out in front of a cafe.

“I’ll call for you,” you said. “But not for a while, so feel free to go back to the school in the meantime.”

He made to argue, but you slammed the car door shut in his face, so he had nothing to do but drive off, leaving you standing there by yourself, without even the Sword of Syrinx to accompany you. Digging into your bag and taking out the book you planned on reading, you stepped into the cafe, inhaling the smell of baked goods and coffee and pretending you were a different person. A person not blessed by a hummingbird. A person who had no one to grieve. That kind of a person.

“Will that be all, ma’am?” the barista said when you had finished telling her your order.

“Yes, thank you,” you said. “Oh, I left my purse at my seat! I’ll go grab it so that I can pay. I’ll be right back.”

Internally kicking yourself for being so careless with your things, you snatched your purse up, relieved it hadn’t been taken by someone else, and then you returned to the counter.

“How much will it be?” you asked, rummaging around for your credit card and then brandishing it in front of you as proof that you had money and hadn’t made up the lie about your purse to disguise the fact that you were broke.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said.

“Ah, what?” you said. “I still want my order, though.”

“That man over there paid for you,” she said, pointing behind you. “He’s so handsome, isn’t he? You’re so lucky! If you go over and thank him, I’m sure he’ll definitely ask you out.”

“What?” you said, turning around to see who she was referring to. Your jaw dropped as you made eye contact with him, the wanted mass murderer, the infamous runaway sorcerer, the criminal at large himself.

“Here you go!” the barista said. You were barely aware of yourself taking what you had asked for, your body on autopilot and only regaining some semblance of control when you were face to face with him again.

“Geto,” you said. “What are you doing here? Why did you pay for me?”

“What kind of an upperclassman would I be if I let you pay for yourself while I’m around?” he said, motioning for you to sit across from him. You obliged without complaint.

“You left the school, so you’re not exactly my upperclassman anymore,” you said, crossing your arms, though not before taking a sip of the drink you had gotten.

“If that’s the case, then please call me Suguru,” he said.

“Fine, then. Suguru,” you said. “Let me ask again: what are you doing here?”

“I was in the mood for coffee,” he said, motioning towards his own cup. “For being monkeys, they know their beverages, wouldn’t you say?”

“Monkeys?” you said. He smiled lightly.

“Isn’t that what they are?” he said. “Non-sorcerers, I mean.”

“I see. So that’s how you think of things now,” you said. He was healthier than you had ever seen him. He could be described as happy, even, and you wondered if his new outlook had driven him to actually caring about the world around him, or at least about himself.

“Indeed,” he said.

“Is your plan to enslave all of them or something?” you said with a derisive snort. “Was that what drove your interest in curse theory?”

“I actually mean to kill them,” he said pleasantly. “And yes, it was.”

You gave him a minute, but he made no indication that he was joking. “You’re serious?”

“Certainly,” he said.

“Damn,” you said, shaking your head. “I hope you know that makes us enemies.”

“I’m aware,” he said. “Does that mean you’ll attack me now?”

You considered it before sighing and taking another swig of your drink. “Nope, not this time. It would be rude to attack the person that paid for my stuff.”

“I appreciate your politeness,” he said.

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me that day, by the way,” you said. “Ever since Haibara died, it’s been hard to find a point in doing anything.”

This was an improvement. You could say his name without breaking down. Before, even that much made you burst into tears.

“I understand the feeling,” Suguru said.

“That’s how I passed the time. I would lie there and think about it — why was I even fighting? What was the point to being a sorcerer?” you said.

“Did you find an answer?” he said.

“I wouldn’t have brought it up if I hadn’t. Actually, I wouldn’t have brought it up at all, but I promised I would tell you if I ever figured it out, and in the name of our old friendship, I’ll honor that promise,” you said.

“I don’t necessarily need to hear it anymore,” he said. “But if you want to tell me, I will listen.”

“There’s a lot of things I could say. I could tell you I’m doing it to protect people weaker than me, or that I want to save others because I could not save Haibara and Hinode. But, would it matter? Saving other people won’t bring those two back. It won’t change anything. It won’t lessen my sadness; if anything, it’ll only increase it, because nobody can save everyone,” you said.

“That’s true,” he said. “I’ll admit that I am a little curious now. If you’re not doing it to try and be a good person, then why?”

“I want to know,” you said. “There’s things I still can’t understand. Why does the Sword of Syrinx like me so much? Why was I born with an extinct technique? What…what is my reason for existing? I’m a person that has never belonged anywhere, not fully. The school is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a home, and it’s also the place I can most likely find answers to these questions, so until such a day comes that my curiosity has been satisfied, I’ll protect it.”

“And then what will you do?” he said.

“I suppose it depends on what those answers are,” you said with a shrug. “I don’t know yet.”

“Do you really think that the higher ups will help you with what you need?” he said. “You’re not as smart as I thought you were if that’s the case.”

“No, of course not. The higher ups help no one but themselves and the clans,” you said. “But…there is someone. There is someone who I’m meant to find, and they will definitely help me.”

“Who?” Geto said. You pushed your empty dishes towards him and smiled.

“I don’t know yet. I think I’ll recognize them when the time comes,” you said. “Anyways, thank you for the food. I’m sorry we’re on opposite sides now. I wish we could be friends still. Is that be possible?”

“I think it would be best for the both of us if I don’t answer that question,” he said with a soft, sad smile. It was about what I had expected, so I wasn’t even upset by it. I just had needed to ask him once before I gave up entirely. “Farewell, Y/N.”

“Farewell, Suguru. Let’s not meet again,” you said, not glancing backwards as you left the cafe.

Your wish came true — you never did see him again, at least not fully. The next time you both crossed paths, he was already dead.