▬▬ resolution, duty and fellowship
Back then, there lived a woman who was one of the most gifted and abominable personages in an era. Her name was told. Yet her story was long forgotten; it was certainly not because she didn't have enough of iniquities when it came to arrogance, misanthropy, immorality, or, more succinctly, to wickedness to be remembered, but because her sole ambition was regulated to a dominion that leaves no traces in history.
THAT DAY, you had a dreadful calvary look on your face. As you occupied one of the benches available, the crowd in the shrine backed away from you like a receding lake when they attempted to sit near you. Even though smoking while your legs were placed on the top of the table was prohibited, you still did it so. Your manner of clothing broke the rules as well—it was sacrilegious. Yet no one could reprimand you. All of this was due to the displeasure visibly seeping across your face. Except, it was not exactly anger that was emphasized in your expression. You were in the depths of self-hate.
Truly, you made sure of not a trace of your history would be remembered, yet you were still alive.
You envied the fleeting realm of those human lives before your eyes. It was because their lives had an end . . . They all die.
On the main torii of the shrine, Gojo had arrived minutes prior to the time given to him. And knowing him, he wouldn't just come here not prepared.
It was sure a huge shrine, swarmed with people who were offering their prayer and devotedness to the gods.
It was almost nighttime, and he was still scheduled for a sorcery mission after this, and searching each corner to find you would be a waste of time.
But it would only be a cinch to look for you, for he who was a sorcerer possessing the Six Eyes, he could see things for several kilometers away, able to distinctly tell apart different figures within their vast range.
And there was a surge of cursed energy on the northwest part of the shrine, a tornado-like disruption that a human couldn't produce. As such, the user of the Six Eyes was able to discern whose cursed energy it was.
It was yours.
Thus, there where he went.
Gojo proceeded to the corner street on his left, where the museum was.
"Ryusei~!" he called abruptly in a childish tone.
Along with your lingering thoughts, you saw someone approaching you.
Satoru.
He was emerging from the broad central of the shrine. He went on toward the figure, seeing how the sunlight flashed on the rim of your sunglasses as you angled your head in his direction. He was usually wearing his shit-eating grin for some unknown reason.
You only rolled your eyes and pinned the ends of the cigarette on your lips. Inhaling deep, filling your lungs with the smoke, and breathing it out.
"You really live by your own rules, ne?" Gojo chirped as he sat down beside you and placed his long legs on the tabletop as well.
You snorted. "Stop copying. You irritate me."
Then you offered him your cigarettes, but he refused to get one.
"I don't smoke," he said, still all smiles.
You two casually sat there, it was as though you owned the place.
Fuck right etiquettes.
Who even decided what is right, anyway?
"Good job on finding me," you commented and gave back his wallet you stole yesterday.
He gladly took his back, while he noticed you were quite calm, despite the vile, stinging aura you produced and a shadow seemed to cloud your face.
"With that violent temper you have?" Gojo chuckled, "How could I not?"
You only shrugged, yawning in the process. "Well, at least, people won't go near us."
"Right, right."
You found humor and irony in this great variety of humanity displayed in the shrine. Mankind was an uninteresting bunch, so much self-deception at all levels, from the individual mind right up through their societal structures. But humans themselves were like pawns, slaves to those at the top of the hierarchy.
And you refused to be on that hierarchy.
As Gojo realized that you were not going to start talking, he initiated first.
"Are you just gonna stare there all day long, aren't you, Ryusei?" he asked.
Your brows creased as you gazed at him. "What? Aren't you the one who's gonna ask questions? My interview, right?"
Gojo only facepalmed. "You really have that attitude, huh?" Then he beamed. "But I don't dislike it at all~"
"You also have that attitude, y'know?" you replied as your eyes watered, "And I hate it at all."
"Don't be like that, Ryusei~♡" he sang while moving close to you. "You're making me blush."
A vein on your temples pulsed in annoyance. "You're disgusting! Get away from me!" Then you pushed him harshly.
Gojo only chuckled on his throat and fixed his sit. "Why, though? Why do you have the looks like you're angry?"
You paused.
Was I angry? I supposed I must be.
"Do I seem angry to you?" you said.
"Always." He laughed. "It feels like you're always carrying the hate to this world."
You shrugged while pursing your lips. "Perhaps you're right. I harbor all hate to this world."
"Hmm? Why is that?"
You hummed as well, crossing your arms to your chest, thinking. "Because I was born and I can't seem to die."
At first, Gojo had thought that you were a perspicacious woman who viewed the world through jaundiced eyes.
It seemed troubled you—and yet, what something could go wrong? But as he might learn what the problem might be, he could find nothing. Born with incomparable and invincible powers, then you wouldn't die easily . . . Certainly, one of the honored ones throughout the Heavens and the earth.
"That precisely made me suffer, aho," you professed.
"Why hate it? When you can do so a lot of things?"
You grinned ruefully. "You haven't seriously thought about death yet, have you?"
Gojo was taken aback, fell silent. Being the strongest, he couldn't passably think about death yet . . . When he had so many lives to save, too many burdens to carry on his shoulders.
"What you know about me was just the tip of the iceberg," you remarked, looking up at the great gingko tree underneath you two. "That's why I gambled if would have a deal with you or not."
"Yeah, me too." He missed the opportunity yesterday, thus meeting you now would resolve things. "So, what are the merits you're up to?"
"The merits of finally being dead." Then you stamped the cigarette filter on the concrete table. "I'm joining your team because I somehow found a way."
The blindfolded man sit up straight, propping his elbows on the table, and planted his chin on his palms to pay an adorable way of attention to you. "Humor me~♡"
You shot him a glare. With his natural habits, he could somehow annoy you.
"And for you sorcerers," you continued, nonetheless, "you value trust and honesty . . . Then, I should be at least honest to gain your trust."
Gojo tilted his head to one side, still smiling. "How will I know if you're being honest or not?"
"If it matters my death, I wouldn't lie."
He smirked. "Fair enough. And I can't help but notice, aren't you too passionate looking for your death, Ryusei?"
"Living for more than a millennium sounds exhausting, yes?"
Gojo was dumbfounded, mouth parted, almost dropping his head on the table. He didn't expect that to hear from you.
You quickly went on. "I shouldn't have lived this far . . . I should have been dead back then, but—"
You suddenly shut your mouth, remembering that fateful night when you were cursed. You were already displeased by the surrounding, panning your slitted eyes around, you narrowed them even further. Your anger had manifested once again. It burned, even your hair lifted by the intensity of your anger and hate. The birds lodging on the trees flew away because of terrible fright.
Anger and hate—the emotions that you possessed ever since your birth.
"Now, now–" Gojo tried to calm you down by fanning his hands up and down– "there's no reason to be hyped up~ Inhale, exhale~!"
You sighed, toning down your cursed energy. You grabbed another stick of cigarette and lit it. Smoking could somehow calm your nerves down. There was a rotten thing in your eyes as you puffed out the stench, filling the space with an oaky smell. The silvery grey smoke waltzed thickly, curling in the air hazily like a ghost found in one's nightmares.
"As I was saying," now you said calmly, then paused once again; you didn't know where to start. "How could I explain it to you?"
He cooly shrugged. "Uhm, how about a thousand years ago?"
He sounded a little skeptical if you really had lived for a thousand years, but seeing you getting infuriated, he gave you the benefit of the doubt.
"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, eyes glued upwards, trying to recall the memories of the past. It was a distant memory, thus it was a little hazy.
After a few silence, you started, "I know that you're aware that since ancient times, sorcerers have already existed, but it wasn't as polished and prominent as today. I also came from a royal family. I hated their ways, their beliefs, and morals . . . And I hated my role as a priestess."
"Priestess?" Gojo made fun of it. "That's so laaaameeee! And I can't imagine you being one!"
"I know, right?" Your eyes scrunched. "They told me that I was highly favored and adored, the lily amongst the thistles, expecting me to do the good and kind things, never doubted that I was capable of vile things . . . I hated it, so much that I was willing to do anything just erase their existence through the generations."
The man didn't let it obvious, but he became serious, discerning that you were violent by your own will, all cruelty was a part of you.
"What did you do?" His voice was somehow calm, yet it had a string of cautiousness.
You looked at him sideways, expressing a face of apathy and eyes submerging in shadows of your messy black hair.
"The usage of cursed energy and cursed technique wasn't known in my clan at that time, and it was a warring era—humans against cursed spirits and nations against nations. The nation my clan reigned was a glorious and flourishing one, and the military force was specially trained."
"Wait, wait, wait!" Gojo cut, small laughs were in between in his words. "The nation your clan reigned? Then that means, you were the princess of some sort?"
Glancing at him, you reverted your stare above. "Yeah, the only daughter among twelve older brothers. Lame, I know, you don't need to tell me."
Gojo didn't reply but to laugh at you.
You let him.
When you noticed that his laughter wouldn't stop at any moment, you blew the smoke in his direction.
He coughed, stopping him from his self-enjoyment.
"All right, all right, I'll be serious," he said, though his voice was still laced with chuckles, and waved the smoke. "Assuming that you plotted the demise of your clan . . . And basing from your testimony, you knew nothing about cursed energy, then how did you do it?"
As expected of him, you thought, he knew how to read between the lines.
"I made a fellowship with the enemies," you simply stated. "I alone who knew that the spies from a trusted ally of my father, the King, had invaded our domain, but l told nobody . . . Although I was the 'thine Highness, thine Priestess'."
With that, Gojo immediately formed the real picture in his head. Truly, you were a sly woman, using innocence and deceit in achieving your goals. And for a mere princess, Gojo said in his mind, but managed to make the country fall in ruins without lifting a finger.
"A war had broke, all for the futile reason of power and social status." You paused to suck the substance that gave you a temporary euphoria in the brain. "I took advantage of it, and it succeeded. None of my family survived . . . I, too, should have died that night . . ."
Right, by the hands of my humble guest . . .
"But?" Gojo asked quietly.
"But for some weird fucking reasons, even in the final breaths of those low-lives cast their 'devotion' and 'faith' on me, hoping that I would 'save' them." Then you began laughing at how absurd it was. "Foolish, blind humans they were . . . Wretched idiots, clinging into hope like a dog for a bone."
"Oh, so you're saying that the despairing, final breaths of your clan cursed you?"
"Yep," you sighed. "Curses disguised as a hope."
"That's rough, ne?" He could only imagine, knowing that the final words would become a curse. "Imagine a thousand people cursing you at the same time, at the same dying moment."
"And amongst the corpses of my people, I found myself being resurrected."
You chuckled lifelessly. The blood and curses of the people of Kálíkhaan made you an immortal, even granting you a power you never asked for.
"A thousand years old?" Gojo repeated with a feigned surprise, but full of contempt. "What an old hag~"
"Piss off," you countered. "Ever since that day, I didn't age. I'm forever 19."
"Whaaaat? You were just 19 that time?" You nodded to his reaction. "You're wicked. All they did is to shower you with kindness and blessings, yet in return, all you did is to wish them dead."
"Fuck that logic," you scoffed, feeling repulsive to his remark. "Showered me with kindness and blessings? Oh please, you know nothing about them. You see, my clan worshiped various mythical gods, and at an early age, I was trained to open up someone's heart to offer for a living sacrifice . . . They made me a murderer, painting my hands with the repugnant blood of the scums. Then they would still validate me as a holy person? Now, who's wicked?"
Gojo yielded, realizing why it wasn't your fault why you lost the basic emotion of all: compassion. And since the conversation had started, he gradually began to understand you, then found himself responding to you.
"How does your cursed technique exactly work?" Gojo inquired. "Why can't you die?"
"Well–" you tap your cig to remove the ash and continued– "it's ironic to say that I can control one's lifespan with my curse, but in reality, it is the curse itself that controls me."
"In other words?"
"In other words . . ." you repeated, "It's like, uh, if compared to an emergency detection system, when my body gave signals that I'm going to die, my brain would automatically respond to it. Even without my command, my time-based cursed technique would activate and revert my body back to my 19-year old self. Though at first, it took me days to regenerate before I go back to life, until it improved, it improved, and it improved. And as of now, it only takes a single blink ."
"To regenerate?"
You clipped a nod. "To regenerate."
"Do you age?"
"I don't, but I could gain minor injuries and skin abrasions and ligatures." You simply smiled. "It seems like something metaphysical is going on; my body isn't playing by the rules in many ways."
Now, Gojo was reminded of one of the immortals he knew. "Ryusei~, do you somehow need a vessel to keep your immortality?"
You angled your head on the left. "I don't. Why?"
"Oh, nothing ♡." Gojo grinned, then shortly, his mood became exhilarated. "Uwah~! The world is still a complex living matter, eh? Nothing but a grain of sand."
Especially for the Gojo Satoru, who was ratified as the strongest sorcerer. And those people who called him that were just frogs in a well. There was a someone could par his ability in this universe, much he hated to admit, might be stronger than him: you. Due to his observation, you had no interest in titles such as the 'strongest', couldn't even care less about what would happen to the world.
"Only interested in your own death, huh?" Gojo pondered. "Say, how would you achieve your goals in getting yourself involved in the sorcerer's society?"
You grinned sideways. "The answer is you."
Gojo didn't know if he would be flattered, but his confusion rose substantially more.
"Me?" he asked while pointing himself.
"Yes, the Gojo Satoru, strongest sorcerer alive!" You proclaimed while gesturing your hands in a grandiose manner. "Heir of the Six Eyes, Holder of the Limitless . . ."
This time, Gojo was extremely flattered. "You researched about me."
". . . But an asshole inside." You deadpanned.
He deadpanned as well. "You stingy!"
You chuckled tauntingly, then went back to your resting-bitch face. "So, yuh, I need you to execute my death. But le'mme warn yah: it won't be easy."
But Gojo only regarded your warning as a challenge. "Tell me~"
"Knowing your ability, you have fully mastered the absolute control of space (in other words, the incalculably great three-dimensional realm)." You began, professing all of the little observations you had when you two had a spat. "Might be capable of creating of the convergence and divergence . . . Man, how much intellect you do have, huh?"
Because in order to execute such complicated prowess, one must have a full grasp of understanding for it.
"Not much~!" he replied with a tune. "Just enough to be acknowledged for proving the Millenium Problem of Poincare Conjecture."
Upon hearing him, you lowered your head, peering at him over the rim of your sunglasses. "Lies." He only smiled sweetly. You scoffed. "Well then, that saves me a little time to explain some theoretical mathematics bullshits at a higher level."
Gojo waited for you to speak.
Letting out a huge sigh, you sat down properly.
"Theory of Singularity."
One word . . .
It was enough to have his full attention to you. He knew about 'Singularity'. As of today's explanation, Singularity was just a construct, didn't exist in the real world, more like, they were just ideas. It didn't make any sense, it had no answer.
"Isn't that the imaginary point in spacetime, where all laws we know don't make any sense?" A look of puzzlement loomed over his face.
You chuckled. "Yes, and I'm trying to break Physics. I mean, we're going to break Physics."
Gojo suddenly laughed contemptuously. "How are you sure that I'm gonna believe all of your charades and accept your propositions?"
Your left eyebrow arched, there was a dare seen on your expression. "I've predicted that you'll say that; so here's the real deal."
And Gojo was patient enough to listen to you, even if you were briefly hanging him in the air.
"I can't buy you with earthly means, so I'll buy you with time." You pushed your sunglasses to your head to clean the loosened hair strands on your face. "I have plenty of time, while you don't."
He kept quiet. You nailed what he needed the most.
You smirked in your thoughts, and added, "Considering how terribly piqued you are with my provocations yesterday, it's easy to depict you at least have a 'dream'." You cooed while making a quoting gesture. "And let me guess, you do have a sob backstory, don't you? And a repressed childhood memory . . . How sad."
"Oi, oi! That's not cool, Ryusei." That part hurt him deeply. "Get to the point already."
"Okie~" you said back with nonchalant chuckles. "First, we'll go research more about the Singularity and practice how will we bring it to life. Of course, you got no time (too much adult responsibilities to make and fighting for hoomans the-fuck-knows-who), so, I'll be teaching in the Jujutsu Tech, while I'll take the half of your missions. Sounds fair?"
"That's all?"
Hearing Gojo, he wasn't quite satisfied with it.
"Oh, the 80% of the wages will be yours, I will only be taking the 20% of it."
"You don't need money?"
"I don't." You were quick to answer. "If I want money, I could just hack the online security of a bank or steal your wallet." Then you pursed your lips with a shrug. "And money has no value for me; I'm immortal. You should also save up money as much as possible; you have generations to protect."
He nodded repeatedly.
"Still not convinced enough?" you questioned. He shook his head. You sighed once again. "I can also heal, y'know? Might as well consider it; having a Reverse Cursed Technique is a rare talent, even in the ancient times."
Suddenly, Gojo's face brightened when he realized one thing.
"All right! I'll accept your offer!" He declared in a lively tone.
"Yay. Finally," you said with a passive voice and expression. "Asshole."
"BUUUUT!" he exclaimed giddily. "Let's make an amendment for the last part."
"Asshole?" You frowned.
"The healing part, you dumbass." He slightly knocked your forehead while he deadpanned.
"Okay, cool," you chuckled. "I thought the asshole part."
An asshole is always an asshole; no one can make an amendment to that.
"No. And yes, it is clear to me that you truly have no compassion. You didn't care if a person dies in front of you, or, feeling the same about murder or death as you do in eating dinner; you have no emotional connection. Thus it came to me that healing is good, but I prefer not letting everyone die with all your might."
It was as though a steam came out of your top head.
"Fuck you," you sputtered darkly. "Don't be such an ass! As if I can control one's life and death. And you're so vague. Who's 'everyone'?"
"Oh puhleaaaseeee, Ryusei." You didn't see him, but you knew he rolled his eyeballs. "I know you're capable of doing it. And when I say 'everyone', I'm pertaining to the people that surrounds you. Let's say, from where your are sitting up to 2-kilometer radius."
"Two-fucking-kilometer radius?" you blurted.
"Yes," Gojo said triumphantly, feeling pleased with himself; for the first time, he managed to piss you off. "You said it yesterday, you can set the conditions of your cursed technique within the three-dimensional realm, but you never said a limit for it."
It was the same with his Limitless, time is infinite, and infinity was everywhere.
Then he closed the gap between you two, playfully nudging your arm in the process. "C'mon, Ryusei~ Don't be such a scaredy-cat. Can you do it or not?"
You gritted your teeth when you heard the hidden dare in his voice. He was sure underestimating you. And as much as you wanted to disagree with the last part, there was no turning back.
So you sighed, sinking your shoulders in surrender. "Two-kilometer radius?"
"Two kilometers would suffice."
"'Kay, fine. I'll do it. I can certainly do it. Happy? Can you just take the deal already?"
Gojo only grinned. "What do you say . . ." Then you saw him talking to his jacket. ". . . Nanami?"
It must be too late to notice, but there was a small hidden microphone to cuff of his jacket.
Swallowed by your annoyance, you grabbed Gojo by his high-necked collar. You angled your head to the right side of his head, only seeing him wear a speaker earpiece.
"You!—" You tried to get a hold of your temper. "You're colluding with someone? After I poured my heart and soul?"
"Relax, relax, Ryusei~" Gojo pushed you down by the shoulders. "I came here for the sole purpose of the 'interview', (of course, it's an interview, it's supposed to have four to five person's), and never expecting that you'll make a deal with me—I mean, with us."
You lost count, but you sighed full of exasperation. Averting your gazes, on your left side, you saw Nanami with Yuuji approaching to you two.
Letting go of Gojo's collar, you made an annoyed pouting face while crossing your arms.
"This is bullshit," you muttered.
"Don't fret~" The white-haired manchild comforted you sardonically. "It's only us Shoko (listening in her office), Yuji, and Nanami who know. Nothing to lose, right? Since they already know you and your cursed technique. And if trusting me is a choice, then you must also trust the people I trust."
"Tch." All you could do was to concede.
"Ossu!" Yuji greeted with a salute upon arriving.
While Nanami only adjusted his eyewear.
You only made face.
"Any thoughts, Nanami?" Of course, Gojo would consult him, who was a man of observation and judgment.
"To be frank, I can't trust her." Nanami started. He had been hearing you from the start, and somehow, he could grasp even the most obvious significance of your words. "If you are willing to commit in sorcery work to achieve your goal, do a Binding Vow."
You saw his brows darkened a little, and a strange gaze at you shone in his eyes. Was it annoyance or dislike that you saw hovering there?
Gojo lightly smiled. Bring him is the best choice. Knowing himself, he would just accept your offer.
At the very least, you discovered that it was better talking to Nanami; he was making so much sense than that Gojo.
"Binding Vow is out of the statement," you simply answered, fanning your hand dismissively. "It will lose its effect once an individual died. And if you all listened very well to me, I'll die, revert to what I am, and the Vow is nulled. And I'm sooooo prone to dying. I actually died just this morning . . . For overdosing myself with sleeping pills and drugs." You smiled mockingly and stupidly.
The three men only facepalmed.
She's hopeless.
It was as if they shared one braincell and thought the same.
"Ease now," you told them. "I still have a small amount of humanity left in me, so you can trust in me."
"And if not," Gojo added, appearing to be collected but his voice was full of sinister, "I'll fucking swear that you'll never get to taste your most cherished death."
"If it matters thine death, thine will be faithful and loyal." You smiled with a hint of tranquility. "But, y'all shall abide by my conditions as well, because mind you, it's also easy to join the curse users and and defeat you all."
Everyone realized it: there was still a patched-work cursed spirit who saw you that time.
And you secretly commended Nanami for bringing you to the alliance of the sorcerers. He made the right choice of bringing you there.
"Well, then–" Gojo broke the tension in the atmosphere– "we've been talking here for 37 minutes, and if everything is decided, let's move on to a different matter."
"What's it?" you tonelessly asked.
"Ryusei!" As happily Gojo could, out of excitement, he jolted up from his sit. "It's time for your first mission!"
An proverbial brick spelled 'first mission' fell on your head.
"Already?" You whined.
"Yes! Just so you know, I never ran out of Special Grade Exorcism missions."
You had a sigh with a most antagonized and resentful sigh, you did it so.
"Well then, as well–" Nanami interrupted– "I'll be leaving. Enjoy your Special Grade Exorcism mission."
"Hep, hep!" Gojo called out to Nanami.
"Hooray~!" You and Yuji chorused with raised hands, though you sounded catatonic.
"Idiots." Gojo and Nanami professed in unison.
Gojo was laughing at you two. Nanami remained stoic, dedicated to leave.
Gojo had caught up with Nanami, pulling him back to where you were.
"Yo, Yuji!" The tall paintbrush grabbed the lad's attention.
"Hai, Gojo-sensei!" Yuji replied enthusiastically.
"You'll be assisting Ryusei with the mission."
"Eh?" you uttered, doubtful. "Assist me or I'll babysit?"
"Such blunt words!" Yuji reacted in a pained voice. "I'll swear I'll be a help!'
Yeah, yeah, whatever. You kept all your wearies inside.
"As for you, Nanami~," Gojo smiled playfully to his kouhai, "you'll go with me."
"Geh." Multiple veins appeared on Nanamin's forehead.
As much as Nanami wanted to escape and turn down the decision against his will, he couldn't . . . Now that he was on Gojo's reach, he could just teleport him with you to one place to another.
He only wanted to go home to cook for himself, then eat, take a bath, indulge to his favorite scotch whiskey, and sleep.
He didn't want to accompany you three—the embodiment of great power: a beloved child of heaven, a bastard child of hell . . . And there was you, a miserable living dichotomy.
Nanami sighed.
And if there was one thing he hated the most . . . It was working overtime.
andjdkaksnsksks
FINALLY DONE !!
🤟🏼🥴🤘🏼
im too ....
i dont faken know how to explain it lmaooo
im sorry for another lousy chapter hansjs
and while finishing this chapter, i was
fighting myself not to fall asleep hahahaha
so it's done !! im u enjoyed reading it, though
it's not the best i could have nxnskmxksk
writing with multiple characters in one
scene is just exhausting. given the fact
that it is either in the 2nd pov or 3rd pov,
it takes a lot of brainpower to shift the lens
ha ha ha
AND I ALSO FAKEN SWEAR !!!
this ain't a gojo x yn story WAHAH
i just love *y'know the word that starts
with a 'c' (synonymous with the word rooster)
and the last words is blocking
y'all (myself as well) with nanami content
habahahahahahahahahahhaa
hahahahhahahahahahahah
HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
don't mind me
im just vibing with Dazai
— hand their end —