Unreality (Gojo x Reader)

Chapter 5

Sitting in your newly established room that is already packed to the brim with shoddy printouts of Zoro, Aizen, and Chrollo that are plastered onto the wall closest to your bed. You can't help but feel a sense of kinship with these fictional characters who had become your closest companions in this desolate world. It's a shame to think that you're the most honourable relationships is with that of men that lie in the two-dimensional plane, if only you had the ability to pull them out or push yourself in.

It's better than living so far away from home amongst strangers who have yet to decide whether to kill you or leave you alone. The sense of loss quickly dissipates upon dragging yourself from the foot of your bed towards your desk where you had previously discarded the book on to. The moat of dust flick into the air as you retrieve it and lay it onto the bed to get a better look.

The worn black leather cover seems to be attached to a wooden panel on either side of the book and there seems to be no protective layer for the spine just pages attached by their sides. Slowly you open the ancient book, feeling a sense of anticipation wash over and your mind begins to gather thoughts like scattered puzzle pieces forming a picture to what secrets may lie within these aged pages.

Yellowed and brittle the aged parchment tugs open revealing each other like a roll of paper tumbling out of its scroll. As the archaic kanji from ancient times has bled into smudges and time has worn away any chances of comprehending what may lie within. Squinting you try to find differences between the archaic words and what you know today as modern Japanese. Charcoal dust and some kind of clay smear around your fingertips further disguising the secrets that you wish to discover.

Until finally you find a passage that is barely readable.

In this world where there is nothing but power where those grew without love. Climbing to the top and becoming the strongest brings about a great solitude that men shall not tamper with where others branch away and become something other.

— thout love, mercy, and grace; power consumed him. Evil shrouded within and changed upon death and loss. Love became worthless but power and strength became everything. Changing he became a god, a monster with four arms, two mouths and four eyes. His cruelty sought no end, his whims are that of a babe crying for his mother's teet and his hunger for death and pain became insatiable.

— Mass graves swallowed all the clans could sacrifice and still he remained strong, the pinnacle of power.

— Yet in death he sleeps ready to be reawakened.

Despite the cryptic wording and missing text, a tug of understanding washes over you and simply clicks into place. This is about him, Ryomen Sukuna, and how he rose to power but despite this book being very water damaged and falling apart, you do know that there is some truth within these pages. 'In death he sleeps ready to be reawakened' referring towards his cursed objects, twenty of his fingers, a feat that no one since has been able to replicate. Unlike regular cursed objects, his cannot be destroyed and remain sealed within talismans and as they weaken the beacon for lesser grades increases becoming a pool of cursed energy. To this day many have become loss to time, but even you believe that some are being kept under lock and key in secret locations around Japan.

He was right, even in death he's proving to become more of a hassle to everyone else.

Before the meeting Yaga-Sensei had mentioned that nothing within Jujutsu Technological archives found any connection between them and your grandparents. You knew that they wouldn't find anything relating to them as it's already challenging to find those who want to be found but against those who don't that they might as well be considered ghosts. But Yaga is helping you search for any information regarding your parents as he had said before that those born with strong inherited abilities must descend from the five great clans or at least have some relation to them.

The fact of the matter is that he believes you're the by-product of some unfortunate soul and the King of Curses, even you hadn't come to that conclusion.

But your ancestry has always been something you've found interest in and maybe because you were left at the doorstep of an older couple that couldn't have children. In the beginning they never mentioned anything out of the ordinary to you until that day when you exorcised your first curse spirit. Gramps took you to the mountains and revealed to you that you were not alone in this world however your parents had made you feel that maybe somewhere in the world there are others like you. He and gran revealed to you as much as they could possibly remember on that one stormy night where your father arrived soaked, weary and within his arms bundled up was you. He barely uttered more than a couple of words before turning in for the night and before the sun could glimpse onto the earth, he was gone leaving you behind with them.

Nothing, no photo, no regretful letter and not even his name or your mothers for that matter. He dropped you off as easily as a parcel, a weight lifted from his shoulders, and no longer a burden to his soul. That's some parentage that you lucked out on there but even in childhood you were taught with love, understanding, and pushed to the breaking point. Gramps wanted what was best for you especially that day with the dog.

In the mountainous region of Hokkaido where flowers still bloomed, and farmers could peacefully tend to their crops without modern civilisation breaching at the doorsteps was a five-year-old girl trying to make sense of the world. Unlike the other kids you were smaller than them and often times thought to be younger than your age, but that didn't stop you from exploring your small pocket.

It was like any other day; you were heading off to kindergarten when you heard the sound of a whimpering dog cowering behind a deli-mart. Being five and curious you walked over towards the small, frail thing where its bones began to look more like wings, and its fur was all patchy. When it had looked at you one of its eyes was moving by itself like a chameleon however dogs don't have chameleon eyes nor wart-like pustules munching away at its brain tissue.

It was an ugly thing and despite your cries no one could see what was wrong with the mutt. The thing burrowed further within the poor cowering dog that cried each time it took a chunk away and replaced it with a chunk of itself. The dog started to become more and more aggressive, and people tried to tear you away from it, but you were like a mountain standing there in shock.

Eventually the dog stopped crying, whimpering, and cowering with its tail between its legs, but that's when everyone began walking away, as if their memory lapsed over and was nothing there in the first place. Only from there it got worse, and then its eyes began to sprout all over its body, blinking, moving. Limbs contorting in unnatural ways and soon your incessant demands were left on deaf ears.

When it had finally attacked, pelting forwards with a nasty snarl and heckling laughter of something other enjoying itself as it sprinted towards you. One moment the thing was lunging through the air and the next purple residue began to flake off your person.

You can't remember what had happened next but Gramps consoling you within his arms, his breath shaky, heart pounding, yet there was reassurance holding you firmly within place.

Deflection had saved you that day but afterwards everything change.  

~*~

Sorry if it seems all over the place but I'm trying this is new territory for me