my beautiful blue eyed princess

“C’mon Megumi, you’ve gotta pick the right Shikigami for the job, your Divine Dogs aren’t always gonna cut it.” Gojo calls without looking up from his phone. 

Megumi glowers as the white Divine Dog snaps at the curse’s tail, barely missing as the spirit slips back underground. The curse isn’t causing much trouble, but it’s been more than five minutes since the kid conjured the Shikigami, and that kind of time won’t cut it when he’s sent on a mission by himself. 

“Divine Dog can sniff out the curse, none of the others can do that,” Megumi snaps. “And this is only a Grade Four, I don’t need to be supervised.” 

Gojo sighs, Megumi has been extra cranky lately, and his baseline is already pretty aggravated. Mastering work with the Divine Dogs is critical for a Ten Shadows user, sure, but Megumi has a clear preference for them, and it’ll make him predictable for stronger curses. Are they the best option in this case? Maybe. But Megumi needs to be pushed a little more too.

“It’s education, you need a teacher for that. And I’m helping you think outside the box.” Gojo grins. 

Despite his claim to the contrary, Megumi is looking intently at the ground where the cursed spirit disappeared. He’s taking time to think through his options before he makes his next move. 

The park the curse is living in is largely deserted, families probably sheltering from the late afternoon heat. But it’s better than being on a mission alone, and will likely lead to spending more time with the two kids, so Gojo doesn’t mind too much. A little humid sunshine is a small price to pay. 

The white dog growls and paws at the lawn where the ephemeral curse disappeared, and Megumi conjures its twin from the shadows so the two shikigami can tear into the soft ground. 

Clods of dirt fly through the air, and pieces of the cursed spirit's body become visible in flashes as it digs away from the dogs. Megumi may not be passionate about sorcerer work, but he's got a knack for fighting tactics and a powerful technique. He just needs to find the motivation.

Moments later, the bloody spirit is unearthed and torn between the two shikigami. 

Gojo hops up from the bench and pats Megumi on the shoulder a couple times before being shaken off. Megumi lets the dogs dissipate and starts back towards the train station. Usually he'll stick around for a couple moments to debrief, but the angular line of his back is all pre-teen defiance today. Gojo takes a few jogged steps to catch up to the boy. 

“Hey, I’m just saying you should always be ready to pull out a new tactic. You’ve got a great technique and you already know how to use cursed tools, you should always think about what’ll take the curse out the fastest. You don’t want to leave an opening.”

Gojo can’t see Megumi’s face, but it looks like he’s grimacing. His shoulders ratchet up an inch. 

“You gotta be well rounded if you want to start school strong. The next couple years will fly by, before you know it you'll get assigned a Grade and need to exorcize faster than this.”

“If you’re really trying to teach then you should let someone else supervise my missions. Like Nanami. Maybe I would actually learn something.” He mutters the last sentence under his breath. As an extremely good sport, Gojo pretends that he didn’t hear it and pivots the conversation.

“Everything is going well in middle school now, right?”

“It’s fine.”

“What club did you join again? You mentioned basketball?”

“It doesn’t matter, I said everything’s fine.”

Gojo asks a couple more questions about his classes but it’s clear that Megumi isn’t in the mood to chat. They walk quietly for a few blocks, coming up on the station that could take them directly back to campus. But afternoon is melting into evening, and it’s been a while since Gojo saw Megumi for anything outside of training. He stops and grabs the fabric of Megumi’s jacket, halting them both.

“I think we should have dinner together- what do you want?”

“I want to have dinner at home. I’m not hungry yet.”

“Aww come on, it's been forever since we've gotten dinner out. We can have whatever you want, my treat.”

Now Gojo can see Megumi’s blank glare. 

“I want whatever Tsumiki made for dinner. You can get what you want.”

“You’re really going to skip getting food out? We’ll take Tsumiki too, of course, we’ll just stop by the apartment and get her.”

Megumi sighs. “Yes I’m sure I don’t want to go out. I exorcized the curse, can I go?”

Gojo releases the jacket. “Yeah, ok. Tell Tsumiki hi for me.”

Megumi doesn’t say anything else, but nods before continuing on to the train station. He doesn’t even bother to look back or say goodbye. 

At least he has a good relationship with his sister, and Tsumiki has a good head on her shoulders. She’ll make sure Megumi eats a good meal and finishes any outstanding homework, and maybe make him have some fun too. He smiles as he pictures the kids watching cartoons and wolfing down junk food. The summer holiday is coming up, just at the end of July, just about time for the three of them to have a non-sorcery related excursion. 

It's unfortunate that Megumi can be so mullish, he really is talented, and Gojo knows he’ll turn out to be a powerful sorcerer. Gojo tucks his hands back into his pockets and contemplates for a moment- without the kids to help him choose dinner, it would probably be best to grab something quick and head back to campus to prep for classes the next day. 

He slowly walks back down the road, leisurely reading the signs before strolling into a ramen shop. Even though it’s really too hot for the soup, it’s probably one of the fastest food options. He orders a bowl from the machine at the front of the restaurant and finds a seat among the other young professionals, all grabbing dinner alone before commuting home. Even the ambiance is subdued, quiet except for the tap of utensils on the bowl and a soft word from the kitchen every so often. 

Gojo’s bowl is empty before long, slurped away while thinking of Megumi and Tsumiki across town. 

The commuting traffic has slowed a bit by then, the streets are full of young couples and tourists exploring the city together. He passes them by and catches the train back to campus. It’s a comfortable walk in the cooler evening air, and the greenery makes it almost pleasant. He scans the grounds as he takes the steps back to his working area, the individual sparks of cursed energy. Career sorcerers in the common rooms, the students clustered in their dorms across the green, and your flash of cursed energy alone in your room. 

He snaps his attention from the echo of your mark back to his mess of an office. Piles of case files litter the desk, both his own and possible missions for the students, they’re interspersed with notes from the weekly administrative meetings, because forced attendance at them isn’t enough, they also expect faculty to read about the meetings. 

He sighs and sits, shuffling those to the side. Somewhere in the stack he knows there’s notes for the spirit he’s supposed to exorcise in Funabashi tomorrow. Unfortunately, the directors and assistant managers are too lazy or uninterested to keep the documents separate, which means even more of his time is wasted on administrative nonsense. 

If any meaningful change is going to happen, this is what needs to be focused on. Megumi will be a strong sorcerer, enough to surpass himself one day, and the students that he trains will fill the rest of the ranks to support each other and ensure corruption doesn’t blot out the good that can come from Jujutsu. There isn’t a personal matter important enough to lose sight of that for.

Moonlight leaks through the widows as he works through the sheafs of paper, putting each into the appropriate stack. 

It’ll be another long night. 

~*~ 

Missions and on-call days have been almost suspiciously light, and you were lucky enough to be scheduled two days off back-to-back. You’ve spent plenty of time out in the sun, recharging your technique and savoring time away from campus. 

Now as you run on the treadmill in the campus gym, you can fix your attention on the other pressing matter: your currently uneventful love life. 

Bachelor sorcerers are common enough, though a skilled one may be able to detect some part of the cursed energy in your mark. If you ever want to get out of sorcery, a normie would be your best bet. They wouldn’t even need to know about your technique or that curses exist. 

Possible ways to meet someone flow through your mind as your feet slap on the belt of the machine- you could try downloading a dating app or reconnecting with an old classmate, though you don’t think either would be particularly successful. There are usually other people solo climbing when you go bouldering, so that would at least give you a shared interest. It would require you to make the first move, though, which leaves a wide margin of error. What would you talk about if not work?

Maybe it would be better if you didn’t talk at all. You begin your cooldown, jog slowing gradually to a walk and ponder. When you step out of the gym and into the temperate night you look beyond the reaches of campus, where you know Tokyo lies. The lights and smog aren’t visible out here, but there are plenty of love hotels and clubs in the city, if you dressed up and went out you could probably find a partner that way. Thousands of people do it every day. 

But you don’t get dressed or take the train into the city. You walk back to your small apartment in the faux-serenity of the nearly-abandoned campus to spend the rest of the evening in your room by yourself. 

Another night you’ll find the motivation to go out. 

That’s what you tell yourself as you sigh and pick up another stack of plastic water bottles on your work table, then shuffle a stack of mail into place. Clearly, the extra time you've had hasn't been spent cleaning your apartment, or putting anything to right after your research stint. The air is stale, the mess overwhelming, and the small, utilitarian quarters uninspiring of any desire to clean. You start the water of the shower and scrub the sweat from your body, focusing only on the hiss of the water and smell of your soap. Another night, you tell yourself as you fall into sleep. Empty of dreams, into the darkness.

His pace up the stairs could have been a sprint or a disgruntled stomp, and perhaps it should have been, but it’s a methodical accent that brings him back up to the surface.

Your conversation is already oddly distant as he returns to his office. He stares out at the green of the campus and the clusters of buildings that make up the city outside the protective borders- nearly everything feels remote in that moment. 

It was probably pretty stupid to let his emotions get the better of him, and he hadn’t even intended on talking to you. It was the way you hunched over the documents, so clearly intent on piercing together any sparse details that drove him spare. If someone had asked him two months ago whether a sorcerer could be romantic, he’d have laughed in their face, but somehow your spirit hasn’t been broken. 

As it is, he can’t take the words back now and you probably (maybe) would have figured things out if you kept researching- you seemed pretty intent. Now he won’t have to think about where you are or what you’ve found or whether he should say anything to you. It’s not like this is going to come back to bite him, and he’s got lessons for the rest of the week to plan. 

Gojo sighs and listlessly flips one of the files open. There’s got to be something he can take his students out to see. 

~*~

The alarm on your phone goes off, slicing through your dream. You forcefully tap to dismiss the blaring noise but don't bother to get up yet. 

It’s been weeks since Gojo confronted you in the archives but the encounter has shifted something. 

Without the threat of discovery on your research, you should be able to make monumental progress. But Gojo’s accusation flashes in your mind whenever you think of returning to the archives, souring your mood and even your motivation. You haven’t heard of any other injuries, despite watching and listening for any reports, and the information provided in your assignments have been fairly correct. 

More likely, you’d read more into the situation than there was to see. The pressure of being surrounded by death, by curses, isolated from anyone who isn’t, it’s gotten to your head and you’re suspicious of the very people there to support you. 

The days pass in an unproductive streak of missions, uninspiring afternoons spent wondering what life would’ve been like if you hadn’t been born with a technique. Individual assignments blur together and your days on call feel the same. 

Nights are more of an emotional affair, feelings come in cycles- anger and grief, frustration, pure disbelief. Gojo’s words play in your mind when you’re trying to fall asleep and you can’t help but think of the implications. It doesn’t feel real. And he hadn’t shown you his mark- there was no real proof that he was telling you the truth. 

But why confront you if it was a lie? You don’t have many connections in the Jujutsu world, nor material wealth, both of which you know he has anyway. Without any real history between you, Gojo would have painfully little to gain by making you think you were matched. 

It’s a poisonous cycle that you don’t seem to want to break. 

A second alarm chimes sharply- the one that means you need to leave. It's already 10 am and you haven’t left the bed yet.

It would be better to stay laying down and wrapped in your thoughts, thinking about being on-call makes you want to bury yourself and go back to sleep. But light flows through the small window in your room, and life has to go on. If you wait any longer you'll have to skip breakfast and risk being tired and hungry while being on call. 

After a final sigh, you drag yourself out of bed and dress. The late summer morning is humid and already boiling, the walk over to the dining area, your eyes dart around the grounds and you stay ready to dart away the moment you see a flash of white hair. 

Thankfully, there's not a sign of your supposed-paramour as you grab a cup of rice from the communal cooker. You don't bother to waste time sitting down, opting instead to lean against the counter by the sink. With your view of the front door and ability to quickly ditch your bowl if need be, this will provide you the fastest getaway option.

Gojo doesn't make an appearance, but breakfast leaves you feeling on edge nonetheless. It's unsettling how fast he could turn a corner or get from one side of campus to another, and you're not sure if he'll want to talk after his outburst, or if he'll be working to avoid you as much as you are him. 

Maybe you should memorize his teaching schedule so you can avoid him more effectively. Maybe you should put in a request to transfer to Kyoto. Or surely it wouldn't be too hard to learn another language and move abroad? You could take up a new name, learn some new skills, and maybe even get a job that doesn't include the physical embodiment of most people's fears. 

Instead, you walk yourself to the administrative building once more, trying to convince yourself that you're making the right decision. 

It's nearly as dry and dull here as it was in the archives, the paper windows that should let in the streaming sunlight are filmy and opaque with dust. The feeling is actually similar to the cutoff vibe you get within a veil.

Hardly any of the rooms are regularly used anymore, the doors are shut and worn patches of the tatami floors lead to the couple areas that still see traffic. You follow one of the routes to the on-call room and check in with Nitta.

“Hey, how are you doing?” She greets warmly. 

You exchange pleasantries for a moment and then dive into business, Nitta notes there will be two other sorcerers on the daytime shift today. 

“Have there been any initial reports? Do you think we’ll see anything big?”

“None so far today. Things were unusually quiet yesterday, which could mean anything today. I’ll keep you updated if we have any assignments come in!” 

You nod, then try to get comfortable on one of the low chairs. The furniture is sparse outside of the few chairs, who are thinning and flat from years of use. A few minutes pass while you scroll on your phone, and another sorcerer enters and walks over to Nitta, who is carefully monitoring her laptop in the corner. They check in and your eyes snap up- you didn’t know Ippei was scheduled to be on call with you. 

He had been unreachable in medical for several days after his injury, and in the very few conversations you've had since then, you hadn’t wanted to broach what had led up to his accident. Perhaps now enough time has passed to ask though- slow days on call leave plenty of time for conversation, and comparing details of your missions could be valuable for finding a common thread. 

Ippei talks to Nitta for a little bit, and though it feels invasive, you strain your ears to see if he brings up anything about his recent missions or whether there’s been more strange activity on assignments. Nitta or Ijitchi are the most likely to know more than just rumors, and whether there’s been any additional reports of mishaps. If you can think of a way to ask without arousing suspicion, it could be worth it to see what he knows. 

He finally turns away and sits next to you. Though there’s sweat on both your hands, you keep your eyes on the phone screen and wait for him to settle in. 

But Ippei greets you a moment later, and his voice sounds sure. You finally look directly at him, trying to absorb any changes and to determine whether he seems truly ready to be back in the field. Ippei’s broad face doesn’t look haunted, but sorcerers rarely do after years fighting curses and compartmentalizing messy aftermaths. 

“I’m glad to hear the on-call team didn’t have much to do yesterday,” you say neutrally. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

You let the silence rest for a moment.

“You’re doing well?” “Yes, doing well,” his voice is as bland as yours and doesn’t give anything away. 

“It’s been a few weeks since we’ve been on shift together, did they finally move you to afternoons?”

An ironic smile sneaks onto his face. “They’ve worn me down, the students can take care of pretty much everything in the mornings. But yeah, afternoons and overnights for a few shifts. There’s more activity later on,” he shrugs.

“I haven’t heard much about other missions lately.”

Ippei nods and he looks away. You check on Nitta warily and drop your voice further- the last sorcerer could show up for their shift any time.

“Not much about all missions I guess. I wanted to ask you about your injury, Akina mentioned the mission wasn’t -typical.” Ippei had met your eyes again, but visibly shutters himself.

“I got a cursed wound almost two months ago and the notes were wrong. There were multiple cursed spirits and they were stronger than they were supposed to be.” Here is where you’ll have to be most delicate. “It sounded like that may have been the case for you too, and I am … concerned, about our colleagues.” Your eyes flick back to Nitta, who likely can’t make out your conversation, but could still be a liability. 

Ippei follows your eyes with his own. “You aren’t the only one who is.. concerned. I didn’t know you’d also been injured, it wasn’t mentioned in the daily briefs.”

“I think there’s something wrong with the scouting, or with the notes that are being passed on. Two incidents in such a short time, it doesn’t feel right.” 

“Three.”

“Three? Who else?”

“Ryo. He wasn’t injured, so he didn’t make it a big deal, but his assignment last week was supposed to be a second grade at an elementary school, but instead he found nearly two dozen third grades. The difference in cursed energy between the projected and actual curses is significant, it shouldn’t have been missed. 

“That is a huge margin of error. Did he report the misalignment? And did you?”

Your heart is beating fast- three cases that hadn’t been made known to the professional sorcerer team is exceedingly suspicious, even for a management team notorious for their reservation. 

“No idea, but they called me in for a pretty thorough questioning after Shoko cleared me. It’s been years since I’ve seen more than a single member of the director’s board and there were two of them there.”

“Who was it?” The director’s board didn’t often bother themselves with the day to day happenings of working sorcerers, it was rare they intervened even if one of your colleagues fell in the line of duty. 

“I didn’t recognize one of them, probably from one of the minor clans. The other was Nobuaki Zenin. They had me go through the entire mission and asked some followup questions.” 

Ippei’s face is distant and his voice has hardened. More than anything you want to know what sorts of questions he was asked, and you debate how to sensitively phrase the question, but the door to the room slides back open and Ino Takuma huffs toward Nitta’s desk. 

The moment to ask is past, and you half listen to Ino explain his tardiness. 

Since at least one other sorcerer has encountered vastly wrong information in their case notes, it seems like there’s got to be something going on. Clearly you’ve got more nights ahead of you in the archives, and maybe more time surveying the higher ups too. You can’t be the only one who’s noticed a pattern, and someone has to have more information. 

You turn to Ippei and address him sincerely.

“Well I’m glad you made it out. There’s no telling what else is out there.”

He smiles back at you, but it’s more careworn than you’re used to. Even after being knit back together by Shoko’s capable hands, it will probably take time for him to recover. 

Ino sits down across from you, and as conversation turns to pleasanter topics, you allow your thoughts to change with it. When you’ve nearly run out of things to talk about, Nitta sends Ino to mentor one of the students on a mission- a Grade Three spirit in a park that shouldn’t cause much fuss. 

Eventually, Nitta does receive a report of a Grade 2 spirit in one of the suburbs, a non-urgent exorcize mission. You peek at Ippei from the corner of your eye and turn towards the corner of the room.

“Why don’t you send both of us? Things have been slow enough that we may not get another call,” you suggest. 

She frowns at her laptop. “You may be right, but I can't send you both on this. It's low priority and only a Second Grade, Ippei will take the case and we'll keep you here in case anything else comes up.”

Ippei rises and stretches his arms and You nod dutifully, but nerves still prick your stomach. There hasn’t been an on-call day this slow that you can remember. 

You’re left to resume scrolling on your phone until another assignment is called in. The stress in the room has ratcheted up though- your leg won’t stop bouncing and you wonder how things are going for Ippei- if it really is a Grade Two he’s facing and if he’ll make it back to campus safely this time. You scroll mindlessly, not processing anything but willing the visual noise to drown out your other thoughts.

Time passes, and Nitta finally breaks through your cycle of numbing. 

“We’ve got a report of another curse- suspected Grade Two. Ready to head out?”

You're already standing by the time she finishes her question, ready to pour this anxious energy into something besides over thinking. There isn’t a case file, just a single page with the address and fare to the correct part of town.

Luckily, the train ride is short and the reported spirit is legitimately a Grade Two. It seems to be a newly spawned curse, dangling its sinuous body over the front door of a dentist's office in Meguro City. It leers at you and winds itself further up the sign, farther from your reach. 

One of those missions then. You sigh and gauge whether you can quickly reach it with a knife. There's some foot traffic on the road but it's not overly crowded, so if you time it right a little toss shouldn't garner too much attention. 

The handle of the throwing blade is snug in your hand, the edges softened and slightly worn where it's been gripped hundreds of times. You envision the path of the knife and glance behind you at the rest of the street. 

“Are you waiting to enter?”

The woman is tall and fashionably dressed, holding the hand of a young boy. She gestures to the door of the dental practice. 

“Oh no, you can go ahead. I was just evaluating the sign. For the,” you scramble for a reason you might be staring, “cleaning service.”

You gesture down to your all-black uniform and hope that it comes off as managerial. 

She stares at you a moment longer and then nods slowly. She’s got a strange expression on her face now, and she tugs her son a bit closer. 

“Have a nice afternoon.” She walks the boy into the building, sparing you a final glance as your bodies slide past one another. 

You relax a little. That could've gone worse, you think. 

Exorcizing is always awkward in public spaces. At least when you're in Tokyo there aren't too many stares, but out in the countryside missions usually get you lots of looks. The one good thing about Grade One assignments is the presence of the veil and not having to worry about regular people. 

You re-adjust your grip on the knife, imbue your arm and blade with cursed energy, then quickly flick your arm back and forward. The knife neatly releases and pins the curse near the neck. Your cursed energy pierces the spirit and sizzles against the soft flesh. 

It gurgles one last foul breath then disintegrates. A single step brings you close enough to catch the knife in its fall down and then casually walk away, the barest touch of a smile on your lips. 

You hop back onto the train and relax as the line brings you back towards the school. By the time you arrive back, there should be only a few hours left on call, and then you can do whatever you please with the day. 

The stops pass quickly, and soon you're walking the rest of the way back to the campus. The air has lost the heaviest of humidity and has returned to a mellow, golden warmth, but the hills around the grounds are still green and soft. You hadn't needed to activate your technique on this mission, but any opportunity to soak up some sun is a good one, so you linger on the paths on your way back. 

By the time you stroll back towards the administrative building, your mood is very nearly pleasant. Maybe you'll get back off campus in the evening, visit one of the indoor bouldering gyms. Or maybe you could get dinner out- the soba restaurant near the dentist’s clinic looked refreshing and fun. 

When you slide open the door, Ippei is lounging on the same low chair he’d left you from earlier, chatting easily with Ino. It’s unbelievable how much the sight eases your mind, any remaining tension you were holding in your shoulders and chest is immediately lifted. 

Nitta greets you brightly and asks a few questions about how things went, typing up the report notes on her laptop. 

“It looks like the two of you have another couple hours on shift. Grab some food if you need it, hopefully the rest of the day will stay quiet.”

You settle back beside Ippei and close your eyes. It's been a good, successful day. 

If Gojo continues to keep his distance and assignments stay around this level, you can build back to a sense of normalcy. 

Thankfully, the rest of the shift passes uneventfully, and you're relieved by a pair of younger sorcerers before the sun sets to take on the evening shift. Too tired to actually go out after work, you return to the common areas and make a simple dinner, searing some vegetables and mixing miso paste into boiling water before scooping some still-warm rice from the cooker. 

The dining area is largely deserted, another single woman eats while scrolling on her phone. It couldn’t be more different from your shift, packed onto the train and passing others even on the slowest streets. You take nearly all your meals alone, work alone, and you even climb by yourself. Sorcery is an isolating career. 

But you don't necessarily have to do it alone. Your mind returns to the woman outside the dentist clinic- fashionable while having a family, content with doing the things she needs to do everyday. She couldn't have been much older than you, but she had an air of someone far more put together. 

Gojo had been unexpected, but as far as you know, dating or marriage outside of your soulmate is allowed. If he hadn’t confessed to you, you would’ve started dating eventually anyway. You’re content to keep away from him and it seems that he’s inclined to do the same, so you’re bound to cross paths with someone else. Maybe in the future you'll find someone, someone to be a companion and friend, who you can build a life with. The thought is a balm, a crease on your heart flattening just a bit. 

Instead of moping around campus, perhaps it's time you thought more intensely about what you want your life to look like.