The halls of Jujutsu High Tech carried the weight of tradition, each step echoing with the whispers of histories. Shikumi and Fukazu greeted the higher-ups with calm professionalism. A brief visit, mostly just a gesture out of necessity.
Their return after almost a decade have a purpose and that is to lift a dead weight they've been tirelessly carrying for the past years. They could no longer live such a guilty life.
As they descended the steps, voices from below carried upward.
"—Shikumi, Fukazu?"
Gojo Satoru hopped up the steps with his characteristic grin plastered on his face. He'd recognized them instantly from the distinct curse energy. Theirs are always unique, barely sensible because of how well they mastered suppression.
"Oh good timing." Fukazu muttered, glancing at Shikumi.
"Gojo Satoru, you've grown," Shikumi remarked a faint note of amusement in her otherwise stoic tone.
"You two haven't changed a bit," Gojo replied, stopping a few steps below them and placing his hands casually in his pockets. "Did you just get back? How long has it been?"
"Eight years," Fukazu nodded.
"Why are you here?" Gojo tilted his head.
"To greet the higher-ups," Shikumi sighed.
"Those old men," Gojo laughed. "You're wasting your time with them."
Shikumi's lips twitched into the faintest smile. "You haven't changed either, huh?"
The three stood for a moment in shared familiarity, their dynamic unchanged by the passing years. But behind Shikumi and Fukazu's composed exterior was something heavy unspoken. The couple exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them.
"Gojo," Shikumi began, "we were just on our way to look for you."
"Oh that is strange. Since when did I became your favourite?" He joked.
She sighed, "you are almost the most logical person in this system. You understand it from the inside out. Its broken, its corrupted. You understand where we are coming from." You Her voice steady but quieter than before.
"That is rather serious."
"There's something we need your help with and it is quite personal."
"Depends on what that is." he raised his eyebrow slightly, "I don't mind having you two owe me one."
"Well," Fukazu said, his tone carrying gravitas. "We have a daughter."
"Heh. Since when?"
"Riwaka Aimi," he continued. "She was birthed 20 years ago and it's been roughly eight years since we saw her."
'Riwaka Aimi.' The name hit Gojo like a spark Everything clicked in his mind at once. That makes
sense. That explains it. They had to be referring to her.
"Well, well. I reallyyyyy didn't see that one coming."
"No one did," Shikumi shrugged. "We kept her existence a secret, as secretive as a secret can get."
"Naturally because we wanted Aimi to have a normal life, away from this world. The daughter of
two of the strongest sorcerers wouldn't have been left alone," Fukazu added, "You know that don't
you?"
Gojo's interest peaked, "So, why tell me now?"
"Because we're planning to tell her the truth," Shikumi explained. "She deserves to know. But we
can't stay in Japan long, so if she ever so decides to enter this wrenched world…"
"You want me to protect her?" Gojo hummed thoughtfully, "But if she decides she doesn't want anything to do with this world?"
"Then you leave her alone," Fukazu's brooked no argument. "No one else is to know of her, and you
will not interfere with her life."
Gojo's grin returned. "That's going to be hard."
"Don't challenge us, Gojo," Shikumi warned, voice dropping.
"If something happens to her…" Fukazu began. "We will make sure Japan does not have a 'tomorrow' to live for. " Shikumi's voice icy cold.
The words hung in the air like a blade, sharp and unyielding. Their seriousness was undeniable.
"What a threat." Gojo's nonchalant expression didn't waver; he shrugged, "guessed that much."
Shikumi's gaze softened just slightly. "She had suffered enough," she
murmured, expression laced with hidden guilt.
The conversation ended with Gojo's nod of understanding. The two turned and descended the steps, their figures disappearing into the night.
In the taxi, they sat in silence, the tension between them palpable. They were heading "home", the
place Aimi had been living all this time. The thought of seeing her churned nauseous feelings. Even
in the face of a deadly special-grade curse, they never felt this way. As sorcerers, they knew better
than to let emotions take over.
-----------
Aimi pushed open the door to her house, her body weighed down by exhaustion from another long
day. The quiet of her home promised her solitude, the one constant in her life.
But the moment she stepped inside, something was wrong.
Her golden orbs landed on the shoe rack. Two unfamiliar pairs of shoes sat neatly beside hers. A
pair of polished loafers and sleek black heels. Denitely not Gojo's, nor hers. She didn't know
anyone who would visit her unannounced, let alone leave their shoes there like they belonged.
She confusingly walked further into the house. The dining room lights were on, though she
distinctly remembered turning them off before leaving. A faint murmur of emotions-invoking voices
echoed and her heart began to race.
Aimi froze upon entering the dining room.
Seated at her dining table were her...parents? She almost did not recognise them, the people who
abandoned her.
Her mother, Shikumi, rose to her feet upon seeing her daughter.
Her father, Fukazu, sat with his hands folded on the table, his gaze steady but weighed down.
Aimi didn't know how to process the scenary.
"Mi-chan," her mother whispered, "you're home."
"We've been waiting for you. I'm glad you're safe." Her father's tone was emotional, "Take a sit."
For a moment, Aimi couldn't speak. Disbelief twisted her expression. Eight years. Eight long,
agonizing years. They had vanished without a word, without an explanation. Calls had gone
unanswered, and messages were ignored. They changed their numbers, leaving her utterly alone.
She had forced herself to survive, to make sense of their absence, to keep living when every part of
her had wanted to give up. And now, they are just...here?
"Mi-chan, take a sit," they urged.
An overwhelming wave of emotions surged through Aimi. Anger, heartbreak, betrayal. Her jaw
clenched tightly.
"Excuse me," her voice low. "What are you two doing here?"
Her mother took a hesitant step forward. "Mi-chan, we—"
"Don't," she cut her off. "Don't call me that. Don't act like you have the right to call my name."
Shikumi froze, her lips parting.
Fukazu stepped forward, his expression dark. "Aimi, just listen to us."
"Listen? Listen to what?" her voice rose. "For eight years, I waited for you. For eight years, eight
whole years I waited every, single, day, hoping that you'd come back. To at least give me an
explanation of some sort, but no. You two abandoned me for years to speculate on my own, and
now, NOW, of all time, when I finally feel okay alone. You two POP OUT OF NO WHERE and ask me to...listen?"
Her parents were unable to respond.
She let out a shaky breath. "I had to build my life up. Piece by piece, crying myself to sleep every night for almost a decade, wondering what I did wrong and why my parents didn't want me." She shot a death glare, "Don't you dare come back here and act like nothing had happened."
"We are not pretending like nothing had happened..." Shikumi's hands trembled as she reached for her daughter, "Mi-chan, that is not true. We care for you more than anything in the world. We did not leave because there was anything wrong with you."
Aimi stepped back with gape sharp enough to wound. A dry chuckle left her mouth.
"Of course. I was twelve. What could a kid that age do that'd be so wrong, enough for the parents to just abandon!?" her tone was defensive, "I don't want to hear anything. You are eight years late and that's it. I don't have parents, and I don't want any! LEAVE!"
There was silence. The last few sentences left an almost suffocating tension in the air. Even Aimi was shocked she said that because she can hear hearts breaking. Her mom's eyes became red and glassy.
Fukazu cleared his clogged throat, "We left...you, and there's nothing we can say to undo the pain we caused. But there's a reason."
Aimi swallowed the lump of hurt. She couldn't speak anymore after what she just said she so kept quiet.
"This wasn't what we wanted, please believe us. We're only back here because we
believe that we owe you the truth, an explanation, Aimi."
"..." Aimi was desperately forcing her tears to freeze.
"Please...can you just listen to us?" Shikumi wipes her swollen eyes. Her trembling hands gently reach out to get her daughter to just take a sit.
"Don't." Aimi moved away from the contact and sat herself down.
The two sighed shakily and sat down, "There's a secret about the world you live in, that most do not know of." They began, "this reality, the one you think you know, is only part of the truth."
"There is another side to it that has been hidden from most people for centuries. The world that we
live in is filled with curses, monsters that manifest from negative emotions and stigma, and they are
corrupt creatures that slaughter, possess, and eat humans."
"??" Aimi's brows furrowed, she looked at them like they were speaking crazy.
"It is the truth, just please listen."
She rolled her eyes softly and let out an exhale.
"This reality was kept away from civilian so that society can function in peace, because not many can see these creatures with naked eyes either." They paused for a few seconds to allow Aimi to digest. "But there are people who are trained to exorcise those curses... sorcerers as everyone calls them."
"and we..."
"are sorcerers."