Despite the ass whopping you almost got by a serial killer who had stalked you up from some days ago to today, your brain had the bright idea to entertain this lost Comic-Con cosplayer because there wasn't anyone worse that you could meet than a stalking serial killer.
"Alright, guess you can..."
The man hummed in response, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Right. Where do you want me to start?"
You shifted to prop an arm on your knee, "Maybe start by explaining who you are and why you know my name."
Gojo, as he had introduced himself, smiled.
"Well, that's an easy one!"
He pulled out something from his pocket and showed you the screen.
You deadpanned.
"I found it by tracking your social media!" he beamed.
You looked at the screen, analyzing your account with squinted eyes. "My name isn't even on any of my socials. How the hell did you pick that out from this?"
He chuckled, pulling back his phone quickly as if expecting you to take it from him. "Just kidding! I had you there, though, huh?"
You frowned, "No."
He ignored your reply, "I actually got it with some probing from someone you know. He's doing well these days, by the way."
You looked up at him with surprise.
"So...you know Yuta?"
He grinned, "That's right. And he agreed that I should check up on you here."
"He did...?"
While you wouldn't say you had some problems with Yuta these days, the two of you drifted apart after the last visit to Japan. You were rocked by what you saw in that room and wanted little to do with Yuta afterward. You had to deal with anger over Yuta failing to protect her for a long time. You were convinced that Yuta had some part in why Rika was now a creature that looked like it was pulled straight from an eldritch horror novel. Of course, you had no proof of that; you just had to learn to cope with her death and incarnation into her new form in another way. You just had to forget about the past you had and move on, but that was easier said than done.
"Mmm," Gojo hummed, looking off the cliff. "He told me a bit about you. How the three of you were close: you, him, and Rika."
Just hearing her name out loud brought on a swell of sad memories. You couldn't help but sigh and look away as if he was somehow reprimanding you.
"He also told me about how you could see curses. He finally pieced it together," he explained.
You gently chewed the inside of your cheek, pausing to ask, "Can he see them too? I assume so because you're here to tell me this."
Gojo nodded, "He can now much better than before. Rika helped solidify his ability to see spirits. You, on the other hand, could always see them."
It made you a little uncomfortable that he knew all this about you, virtually some stranger.
You furrowed your brows in thought, peering behind you to check up on Ellena on the bench. The single lamp post beside it illuminated her body laid across the bench, your jacket used as a short blanket and an arm used as her pillow. Gojo didn't recommend sending her off alone so you two could talk, which was more than rational. It's not like you'd let her out of sight after what happened some minutes ago.
"Then what does that make me and Yuta?" you mumbled, turning to look back off the cliff. "Gifted with magic or something?"
"A little more tasteful than that," Gojo said, catching your gaze, or at least that's what you thought he did. "Cursed energy users, or curse users. Those who decide to use their gifts for the greater good go on to train and become sorcerers or, as that man you dealt with, called Jujutsu Sorcerers."
Ah, you saw what he was trying to get at.
"So, Yuta became a Jujutsu Sorcerer?"
Gojo didn't exactly like the kind of guy Yuta would hang around with, so you still wondered what his relationship with him was.
"Correct. Currently, Yuta has decided to travel around, gather information, and find ways to improve his skills. He's enrolled in a special school that trains the next generation of Jujutsu Sorcerers," he answered.
He smiled, "He's got a talent, and so do you. You readily know how to use your cursed technique after only one battle and can control your residue cursed energy well."
You couldn't help but feel like he was keeping something from you.
"I don't know much about cursed energy and all that stuff...but I think I get what you mean about controlling and masking one's residual energy," you paused to think for a moment, debating on asking the following question or not. You didn't want to piss this guy off like the last one. Gojo didn't seem like the guy you wanted to mess with. "Was that you releasing that cursed energy the killer was talking about? And were you getting rid of curses around the city?"
He laughed, "Yeah, that was me. It was a good play, right?"
Glaring, you spat out at him. "Like hell it was! I could have gotten killed, you know? Ellena could have gotten hurt!"
He sighed as if tired of your outburst. "Now cool your jets. I knew what I was doing, and it was an effective way to test the extent of your abilities. I wouldn't put you in a precarious situation if I knew you couldn't handle it. I was keeping a close eye on you, regardless. If you had trouble dealing with him, I would have stepped in, but you're better than I expected."
You drew back your anger, more confused than upset now.
"You keep saying that," you sighed, rubbing a temple, "But you've just met me. Isn't it a little dangerous to put blind trust in someone like that?"
"Not blind trust," he said curtly, glancing down at you. You felt the need to shut up and listen, a little alarmed by how fast he answered.
Gojo looked serious, "I know it seems like this is out of the blue, but I've known about you for some time now. Perhaps not directly, but whether you expect it or not, Yuta speaks highly of you. I consider him one of my precious students, and if he believes you're pretty good to be up for batting, I'll take his word for it."
He put his hands in his pocket again, with a thoughtful look, "He's the one putting the most faith in you, so I'm just here to hear your answer. You can come with me to Tokyo and see what he's learned during his time in Jujutsu Tech or stay here in this corner of the world living your normal life."
You pondered his words, glancing back to see a sleeping Ellena shift as a wind draft blew past.
"But you'll be on your own then."
He was right; you'd be on your own. Maybe you could figure out your place in all this jujutsu stuff, but who knows when that would be. On top of that, he made it seem like you could learn and get stronger if you were to go to Tokyo. You could learn what you could and use it to protect what you cared about.
Besides, you wouldn't be so lonely in Japan since Ellena would be shipped over there soon enough.
"...What happened to Rika?"
You could see his head looking down at you again, but you didn't want to look up, even with that blindfold covering his eyes. It felt like he could see through your soul despite wearing it, and you were too anxious to test that hypothesis.
"Rika...you probably know..." you played with your fingers a bit to distract yourself. "She ended up becoming one of those things...a cursed spirit. She attached herself to Yuta...and we never could find out how to..."
You could still see her face even though the recent image of her surfaced in your mind. She was terrifying, but more so that she was still around rather than her new form. You could get over how she looked, but...she never got peace. Her soul remained tethered to this world even though she should have moved on to wherever souls go after death. Beautiful, caring, gentle Rika was stuck with such a horrible fate for who knows how long. That's the part that scared you—whether or not she would ever get to finally rest.
Perhaps sensing your distress, Gojo remained quiet for a few seconds, letting you soak in your thoughts.
"She's free now. Yuta finally let her go."
It felt like a giant weight had been lifted. The rain clouds had parted, and the sun peaked out. In your case, the sun rose, signifying the night's end and the beginning of a new day.
She was free now. Rika could finally rest after all these years.
You sat on the ground, physically and mentally exhausted. The two of you looked off the mountain cliff, watching the sunrise and bathe the land in its warmth. You still didn't know how he could see anything with that thing on. Mumbling, you wiped off the residue of dry blood from under your nose with the back of your sleeve.
"Alright, you win, Blindfold. I'll go to Jujutsu Tech."
You would learn how to use your newfound power to protect the people you loved.
====
In the aftermath of that night, Gojo helped take partial responsibility. He introduced himself as your rescuer after you got "kidnapped and threatened" by the murderer and saved the day by beating him senselessly. According to the media, the man was turned in to the authorities, but later, the white-haired man informed you he had been sent to Japan to be appropriately dealt with by some other sorcerers in the area.
It was a good story to fall back on, but that also led to other repercussions, like you getting set up with some trips to the police station and a therapist per request of some CPS organization. You were thankful that was all you got, aside from the excessive patronizing of your mother and father. They were worried all this would mess you up, but you reassured them that Gojo's intervention had spared you traumatic scarring.
And speaking of the devil...
"Woah! Did you see that lizard?! It was huge!"
He acted like a man-child more than the cool, mysterious figure that showed up that day.
"Yeah, there's a lot of those here," you said as you exited the car.
You waited for him to get out of the passenger seat to lock it and then shoved your hands in your pockets, keys included.
Gojo looked around, out of the weird garb he had on that day and into something more casual. His hair was down just like you had briefly seen at the ramen bar, along with the same pair of sunglasses you had seen him wearing that night. You told him not to wear anything too nice because he might dirty himself, and he kept your words in mind. His look was completed with a simple white shirt, tawny jacket, dark jeans, and black Chelsea boots.
"You know, I think you're the only fifteen-year-old I know who drives," he said as you began to lead the small trek up the rocky and dirt mountain.
You sniffed, the dry air filling your bandaged nose. It was mostly healed, and you got away with it being just shy of broken and not needing extensive care or surgery. A week or two and it would be good on its own.
"Oh, yeah...? Well, I don't drive much because it's illegal for me to do, so..."
You could hear him stop mid-step at the revelation.
"Wait. Are you telling me you're driving around with no license? What's the driving age here in Peru?" He asked, surprisingly calmer than you thought he'd be.
You hummed in thought, "I think it's eighteen."
A slap on your back made you cringe, wincing at the contact, and then you were pulled close to him, "That's unacceptable, Okkotsu-chan. What do your parents say about this? Whose car did we drive up here, hm?"
You tried to push him away, "That's...! Well...I wasn't going to walk all the way up here! There's no public transportation for that, and you worry too much about who's car and whatnot. I haven't been caught yet, and it's not like I always drive. It's just times like these. Besides, the car belongs to my grandpa," you muttered at the end, recalling the memory of him presenting you with the vehicle.
He was too old to use it often, so he let the community's younger members use it for errands and stuff in town. The population in these parts of the mountains was low, so it's not like any absolute authority enforced those kinds of laws.
Gojo shoved a hand into his pocket, backing off, "Not only are you mean, but you're a lawbreaker too, Okkotsu."
You gave him a leer, grunting, "Don't call me by my last name like that. Just call me [Name]."
He hummed in reply, and you quickly interjected before he could respond properly, "And I'm not mean. You're just annoying to be around. You said you had more students other than Yuta. How the hell do they deal with you..."
The man whined, "Hey—my students love me; I'll have you know! Is there wrong with a teacher trying to get closer to his future student? You don't want us to be strangers, do you?"
You remained silent, and Gojo seemed to deflate in turn.
Aside from the headache that was his constant pestering, he had shown up in various parts of Lima to see you, and it quickly became tiring. Whether it be at a nearby restaurant from your gym, across the street from your school talking to women, or even through notes that he left on your balcony, pointing to his direction on top of some nearby rooftop.
He said it was to monitor and ensure you were safe, but you were convinced he was bored and wanted a familiar face to chat with. His Spanish was on the level of a first-grader, and he needed you to translate many things. When you asked why he stuck around, he said the women were too beautiful to pass up in just a day, and he had to admire them longer.
Yeah, this man was something. A degenerate, maybe.
When you told Ellena stories about him, she quickly agreed with how much of a creep he was. Were it not for the fact he had helped that night with the mess you made, she would have told him so.
Soon enough, after some silence and Gojo pointing out a few more lizards or animals here and there, you could spot the rooftops of houses set up in the near distance.
You felt relieved, thankful you made it up without twisting an ankle or anything from the incline.
"There he is!" You heard the screech of children, and you braced yourself for the small swarm of mini humans.
Most didn't reach past your waist, and it took some calls from their parents or guardians for them to give you some space. Gojo seemed interested in your interactions with them as you made the rest of the way up. A few kids tried to talk to him, but he could only give basic replies or trail off.
"Hey, leave him alone, you brats!"
They finally scattered with the appearance of a tall man, stick in hand. You smiled as he came close to greet you.
"Good to see you, Pollo," he said, bringing you in for a hug.
"Good to see you too, Cisco," you hugged him back before pulling away.
He eyed Gojo, who stood a small distance away, mumbling, "Who's he? Boyfriend?"
You scoffed, "Gross. He's close to his thirties."
The bronze-skinned man nearly did a double take, "How old?"
You sighed, scratching the back of your head. "It doesn't really matter right now. He's a friend tagging along, but we're on a time crunch here. I need to be home at four to pack up the rest of my things. My flight leaves at two in the morning."
Cisco gave a wince but led the way through the small village, "Two in the morning? That's got to be a bitch."
"Tell me about it," you muttered, eyeing everything around you. "Lucky you, all you got to do is take a train back north."
"Hey man, the train sucks ass, too," he said, straight-faced.
The two of you shared a small chuckle, and you could feel the mounting pressure from Gojo lingering behind. Poor man, there is probably so much to say, but no way to communicate it.
Cisco brought you to a small, rickety old house, to which you knocked on the door with three rasps.
"'Buelo? Hey, I'm here."
There was a tiny bit of clambering from the inside before the door opened, revealing your grandmother's old and worn face.
"You're here! Oh my, look how you've grown!"
She grabbed your face, and you couldn't help but wince as the bruising still had yet to disappear.
"I...came here a month ago..." you mumbled between your cheeks being squished.
She either ignored or didn't hear you because she then turned to look at Gojo with a scrutinized up and down. The man only smiled slightly in response.
"...This one..." she mumbled.
You looked down at her with a hum, "What is it?"
She didn't answer but stared at him for a few more minutes before beaming at you with closed eyes.
"Oh! Nothing, Pollito. I was admiring how tall and handsome this man was. He's so pale... Is he a boyfriend?"
You couldn't help but deadpan when you heard Cisco snicker in the background. "No, grandma. Like I told Cisco, he's older than he looks. He's twenty-eight and not my boyfriend."
Seriously, did everyone you bring here have to be your lover or something? They did the same thing when Ellena finally came to visit last year.
"Too bad," she hummed before pulling you in, "but you came here all this way regardless of introducing us to your significant other or not—let me feed you."
"'Buela—"
"No 'Buela'—you're so skinny."
You sighed, trying to insist, "No, seriously. I can't eat right now. I have to get back to Lima soon, and the bus takes forever. I can't drive in the city yet."
She sighed. Like as if you were doing her such a disservice but bobs her head, "Okay, alright, Pollito. I understand now. But when you come back—I'm making you a feast."
"Sure..." you mumbled, looking back to see Gojo standing at the entrance. "Well, come on. They're not going to butcher you up or anything."
He shifts his weight, giving a hesitant hum. "I think I'd like to stay out here for a bit. I want to look around."
You understood how he'd be uncomfortable, so you granted him that request.
"Alright, I'm just going to talk for a bit, and then we can take off," you informed him, glancing over before stepping deeper into the house. "Don't cause trouble."
"Me? Never."
Biting back your tongue, you followed your grandmother into the room that your grandfather occupied. He had been doing better recently from a nasty fall about halfway down the mountain, where he injured his back. Despite that, your grandfather's mobility wasn't as good as before. However, that hardly stopped him, but today was just one of those days where the ache was a little hard to overcome.
"Your grandson is here," your grandmother announced, opening a faded blue door.
The smell of herbs immediately hit your nose, and a wave of nostalgia crashed over you. As far as you could remember, your grandfather was always smoking that pipe and performing cleanses or lighting incense.
Gojo had explained early on what a cursed technique was, a way to release cursed energy more refinedly than in its raw form. He used some toaster analogy to explain it, but you understood the gist of what you got from it. He went on to also describe the two ways someone could be granted a cursed technique, that being through generational heredity or awakening of an innate ability. Apparently, you fell on the latter, and your technique came to be because of the surroundings and things that made up a part of you: your identity.
"Every time, old man. Do you think I carry around bad energy with me?" Oh, the irony of that.
He gave a puff of his pipe and then let out a stream of smoke. "Always, now get in here and let me see you."
You smiled and went to sit on the straw mat he sat crossed-legged on, watching as he grabbed hold of an herb bundle and began to cleanse you with it.
"Got a lot of it on you today," he muttered between the pipe on his lips, and you couldn't help but let the wheels of your head begin to turn.
"I think I'm alright, gramps," you told him.
He shook his head, finishing your cleansing, and then set the bundle of herbs in a wooden bowl beside him. The room was practically fogged with smoke, and your grandmother left the door ajar to ventilate the space.
"I heard you're going away for some time," he began, carefully shifting on the mat. You could see his tired bronze skin stretched over his bones, an older man than that of your youth.
"I am," you said, shifting on the mat as well to get slightly comfortable, "Going to finish school in Japan. I'll come back to visit when I can, but they're strict on the student boarding thing. I'll send letters here and call Mom to let you know how I'm doing."
He gave a nod, puffing out another stream of smoke. "Is the girl going with you too? Ellena, was it?"
You mumbled, playing with the stray ends of straw that stuck out from the top of the woven mat, "No, but she's going to a private boarding school, too. Her parents got angry at her. I just got a scholarship to go to mine."
Hopefully, you sounded convincing enough. It was hard enough to convince your parents, and even then, you needed help from your father to help sort out the news that their son was some sorcerer. Surprisingly enough, your father suspected you could see curses. He had heard old stories from his grandparents of people who could do so, but he thought they were just stories.
"Hmm."
The older man gave you a long look, and you tried to keep a poker face. Luckily, you weren't called out.
"If that's how it is..." he mumbled, looking over the side of the room where a heavyset drawer was. "Then... that's how it is. Look in the first drawer and bring me the small wooden box inside."
You followed his instructions, retrieving the box and handing it to him. He muttered something as he unhooked the latch, pulling out a few items.
"Which ones do you want?"
They were woven bracelets you've long recognized. It was something a lot of women made to sell at markets. You could tell these were your grandmother's because she incorporated her flair into the designs.
"I already got some last time," you muttered, pulling down your sleeve to show him you were wearing them now.
He grunted, "These are for the lost time we'll have. You can't get new ones until you come back, so take them."
You knew it would be pointless to argue, so you scanned the ones he had out and picked out two so you could have a pair on either wrist when you wore them.
These were odd. The feel of the bracelets differed, but you put it off as just your imagination and inspected the threads as your grandfather packed the rest away.
"That man..."
You looked back up in surprise, seeing him looking intently at nowhere.
You let him finish because there was no way it was just a coincidence that he had spoken the same thing as your grandmother. How did he even know Gojo was here, to begin with? The walls weren't thin at all, right?
He puffed from his pipe, "What a strange energy..."
You should have seen that coming. You visited this village a billion times and never thought someone here could pick up what you did. Your grandfather certainly couldn't see curses, that you were sure, but that alone made you think that maybe everyone here could pick up cursed energy.
You looked over at the door, where you could hear kids poking fun or babbling on at Gojo.
"Well, he is a strange man," you muttered, picturing him confused by the children's chatter. "He's a good man...I think."
Your grandfather appeared amused by your answer, "Then trust your instinct."
You thought that was a good end note to leave things off on, so you scooted a little closer to give him a gentle hug.
"Be careful and be safe."
"I will."
You pulled away and bid him farewell, engraving the familiar smell into your brain before you exited. You found your grandmother seated at the table, center left of the conjoined kitchen and living room.
"Leaving now?" You nodded, and she stood.
"Let me bless you," she said, beckoning you over.
You grunted and let her do so, having her end it with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"You've grown so big," she said, patting your back before letting you go. She looked over to the door, where you could spot Gojo outrunning some village children. "And you're only going to keep growing, hm?" She chuckled warmly, and you cracked a small smile.
"Yeah..."
You'd miss this place, but you'd come back.
She accompanied you outside, and you saw your guest dangling a toy from a bunch of whining children, a devilish grin on his face.
You sighed, walking over. "Could you maybe not antagonize the children?"
He huffed mischievously and tossed the toy to you, catching you slightly off guard and fumbling it in your grasp.
"I had to entertain myself somehow," he said, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.
With a bitter mutter, you returned the toy and began walking to the village's end.
"Sure, we got to go now. I have to pack."
"Alright. Goodbye, tiny children!" He waved.
"¡Ojalá te caigas, blancón!"
Gojo chuckled, "What did they say?"
You eyed him carefully, taking note of the color of his hair. It was a fair color, so they weren't wrong.
"You know, I couldn't hear them right."
You'd humor and spare him the wrath he invoked in those kids. He just had to mess with them.
"Why did you want to stay outside?" You asked.
While he wasn't already quiet, the air around seemed to shift slightly. He looked a lot more reflective than admiring the terrain around you.
"Nothing against you or your old folk. The feeling the two gave off reminded me of someone I dislike."
It was strange to hear. Ever since you met Gojo, he oozed confidence and pride from his pores. It seemed like he was untouchable. Whoever it was that made him have his type of reaction didn't seem like anyone you'd want to cross.
A small silence settled between you as you descended and got in your car.
"Did you know we're related?"
"Why are you saying this now?"
"So, you believe me."
"I'm going to kick you out of my car, Gojo."
==
After dropping off the car at the storage unit it was kept in, you had to walk to the bus station and catch the next one home. Gojo talked to you about a few people you'd meet in Tokyo, one of the last being a student named Megumi.
"He can seem a bit cold at times, but he's just not used to socializing a lot," he said, looking out the window of the bus, "You'll be occupying the room next to his, so it'd be good if you two can get along. You're moving in a little early before the semester begins, and he'll be there to keep you company if you need it."
You hummed, "Right. So, it's only the two of us."
Gojo poked your cheek, "But don't be too disappointed, Pollo-chan," you had to take a second to process the new nickname, "There are other students you can talk to, so you don't get lonely. The second years are already in the dorms, so you can befriend them all you want."
You were still ticked about the name, "Who let you use that name? Stop that."
He pouted, "But I just got the pronunciation right. Listen—Pollo~."
You would have chucked a hairball in disgust if you were a cat.
"Just stick to my first name. Even Okkotsu is fine on occasion—just not that."
He gave a shit-eating grin, his sunglasses slipping just slightly on the bridge of his nose, flashing the vibrant blue underneath. You never saw those eyes on anyone before until he came along.
"But that takes the fun out of it. It gives you personality, and..." Gojo leaned back in his seat and pushed the glass back up. "It sort of suits you."
You rolled your eyes, "Yeah, because the name chicken suits me just right..."
Scoffing quietly, you crossed your arms, "Whatever, I guess class starts early since the dorms are nearby."
"Class starts when the teacher is in the room, so don't worry about that," he dismissed quickly. "Anything school-related, like lunchtimes and breaks, are all scheduled by the school. You even get free food."
"Sounds like a high-class school," you muttered, leaning an elbow on the elbow rest to your left, "They vaccinate students too, like in the military? It's starting to sound like the school owns the students there."
"Technically, they do...once agreeing to become a sorcerer."
"I was joking."
Clearly, Gojo wasn't because he didn't crack a smile or anything. Or he was a good liar.
It ended up being the former, as he crossed a leg as he said, "Right. Well, I wasn't." He was a little unconformable by the little leg space you had for your bodies. These seats weren't meant for anyone over the average height in Peru.
"But don't worry," he said once he spotted the troubling thoughts on your face. He poked your arm twice as if he was doing a mic check, but in this case, he was probably trying to soothe your worries with simple reassurance. "That's not until you've become a full-fledged sorcerer, and even then, I'll make sure those geezers don't harass you."
While utterly unaware of who these so-called "geezers" were, you could guess that they would be the ones to "own" you. Ultimately, you were confused about why he could say something like that. Sure, he was arrogant, but there had to be a limit to his arrogance. Right?
You crossed your arms quietly, a pregnant silence hanging off the previous end of your conversation.
"Why..."
He looked over to signal that he was listening.
You continued.
"Why are you doing all this? For me?"
It didn't make sense.
"I know you said it's because I'd be your student, but there should be a limit to how far a teacher can go for his students, right? It's not like you're invincible..."
The low hum of the bus filled the speechless gap, giving time for the two of you to process your words.
Gojo gave a small puff through his nose, a small smile on his face.
"'Throughout Heaven and Earth, I alone am the honored one.'"
It was so boastful to say, especially given the context of your exchange. You remember your father talking to you about the quote, something you heard him mumble while reading about some Chinese Buddhist philosophy. He had gone on a long-winded explanation that you tuned out, but that quote you can vividly recall from your core memories.
It took a moment to make the connection, primarily out of shock that he had even replied with that.
'I am an enlightened being.' Hmph, he could very well have called himself a god.
And frankly, for perhaps either a strange or lack of reason, you believed him.
So, this was who you were sitting next to. Gojo Satoru. A god.
"Alright."