Chapter Text
This meeting was stupid. Clan heads were also stupid, so Nobara wasn't surprised.
Like they always did when they agreed that something was important for both of them to know, Nobara kept herself high up in the neck, close to Shoko's brain stem. Frankly, she wished it had seemed less important— she'd never liked hearing about old people and clan politics and the school's optics. None of this shit mattered.
It was all for the clan to evaluate the progression of some kid. They planned to compare it with results from the clan's own training, all to make sure the next Ten Shadows user would stand up to the other clans. Obviously, this meant the meeting was even less important than usual. She already knew that would be Megumi— who wasn't even a part of the Zenin clan. The kid was some brat named Naoya, who apparently had 'a lot of potential,' yet she'd never heard of him. Why should she care what school he went to? If he was important, she would've met him in her own timeline.
"And Kamo's enrollment?"
"She'll be going here," Yaga confirmed.
She?
Obviously, Noritoshi wouldn't be going to school the next year, he wasn't old enough— but Nobara had thought maybe, Jujutsu society had somehow already heard about his innate technique. If it was a girl, unless Noritoshi was trans, that meant either this was someone who'd die in the next few years, or…
What if it's Itadori?
"Well," the old man said, looking thoughtful. Nobara hadn't heard his name, and hadn't cared to ask. Not that Shoko could really answer. "You know, we were a bit worried that the six-eyes would lead you to neglect your other students. I'm glad to see that isn't the case. Competing against someone with a hereditary technique would push Naoya-kun, and while nobody can beat the six eyes, it shouldn't be difficult for him to outrank Kamo."
Ew.
"Traditionally, when they involve the tech schools, the Zenin clan sends their kids to Kyoto." Yaga's expression was as unreadable as always.
"So does Kamo."
"The circumstances around her are all unusual. She was raised in the city, and outside of the clan. It's obvious she wouldn't do well somewhere as traditional as Kyoto."
"What are they doing?" Nobara asked. She had a feeling that Shoko was thinking the same thing as her: why were they even there for this?
"We just want Naoya to have the best education possible." The man's gaze flicked to Gojo, then Geto. It skipped over Shoko, like she was a plant or a table. Background decoration. "Unless the hereditary technique appears, he will likely be our next clan head, after all. So how are your teachings? Are they reaching the extent of their potential?"
"Yes," Yaga said. "In fact, I intended for them to demonstrate. If you wish, you may spar one."
His eyebrows furrowed. "Even the girl?"
"Ieiri-san," Shoko corrected under her breath. Normally, Shoko would've swallowed those words. Nobara was probably influencing her. Whoops.
"If you want," Yaga frowned.
"Regardless, sparring doesn't seem necessary. Students against a semi-grade one—"
"Two special grades," Gojo interjected with a cocky grin. Shoko groaned, and Geto winced away. This meeting wouldn't end anytime soon, would it?
"…Right."
"Before that," Yaga continued, "is this an exception, like Kamo-san? Or a plan for all future sorcerers of your clan?"
"It depends." He stroked his chin. "No use even sending the twins to school. They'll just be going to the Kukuru, after all." He sighed. "It's a shame that they're both completely talentless. I mean, Maki was obviously going to be worthless—"
"Take that back," Nobara hissed, forgetting only Shoko could hear her. If she had hands, they'd be curling into fists. The way her cursed energy spiked and flared against Shoko's was probably painful. Nobara didn't give a shit.
How dare he? About Maki, of all people? Nobara couldn't think of anyone more determined to be a sorcerer, or more worthy to become one.
"—and Naobito-san thought Mai might have a useful technique, but there's no sign she has one at all. That makes the next potential ten shadows user Toji's brat."
"Toji?" Nobara asked. "Who is that?"
Tiny shrug. Nobara wished she could just ask someone directly.
Everything would be so much easier if Nobara could just talk, at all. Or fight. Just— anything.
She missed being a person.
"How old is he?" Yaga asked. Because he didn't know who Fushiguro was, and had no reason to think the Zenin clan's interest was strange.
This was fucking with her mind. She had to ask about this, later.
"Four."
"Ask about his sister," Nobara urged. "If they're paying this much attention to him, why wouldn't they have mentioned her?"
"What about his sister?" Shoko echoed. Nobara muttered a quiet thank you.
"What sister?"
How the fuck did they not know Fushiguro had a sister?
Higher-ups and clans were so obsessed with bloodlines and family. Surely the clan was aware, somehow, of Tsumiki's existence. Maybe the Zenin clan had chosen an uninformed representative?
"It doesn't matter, anyway," he continued. "Ten shadows is too powerful to appear in women. Everyone knows that their cursed energy fluctuates too much for them to be of any use in a fight. Why would we choose to take in someone like that?"
What.
No use in a fight? Sure, Tsumiki probably wasn't— but because she was a civilian. Nobara had never, not even once, heard of a curse technique being limited to one gender. If anyone would decide that was a possibility, it did made sense that it was be the Zenin clan behind it.
"Maybe she'll be a good servant, but we'd never send her here."
"You'd separate them?"
Nobara's heart skipped a beat.
That was Fushiguro.
She couldn't see his eyes behind those glasses. It didn't matter; she knew. It was Fushiguro. It had to be him.
Gojo's voice was animated and lively; his movements were exaggerated. Even in Gojo's body, that more muted tone? The quiet anger, the utter melancholy? That was Fushiguro, through and through.
But since when would Gojo even consider letting—
Why did it matter?All she'd wanted since she'd woken up from that stupid coma was to have her friends back— and here he was. Finally.
"—standard, for hereditary techniques." She'd missed some of what he'd said, lost in her excitement. The representative seemed to have no idea what kind of danger he was putting itself in. "You, of all people, would know that. Besides, this is only if he somehow has ten shadows— but if you're so worried, for some reason, we could find room if the kid insists. She'd do alright with all the other women, cleaning and—"
Nobara wanted to punch him, but Fushiguro beat her to it.
On the rare occasion Gojo decided he had to try and cover academics, he'd usually put on a documentary— and the only way Nobara could describe Fushiguro, at that moment, was a cheetah tackling a gazelle.
In the blink of an eye, he was doing his signature move: using his momentum to get his legs around the man's neck, then squeezing. It was effective. It usually was.
It took a fraction of a second for Yaga to burst out of his seat. "Gojo!" he yelled. She could feel Shoko's heart start to race.
"What is he—"
"Please let me out," Nobara pleaded. "I'm not sure what's going on, but I know Fushiguro. I might be able to help." She felt the tiniest of nods. As soon as she could feel Shoko loosening her grip on the 'controls,' Nobara pushed her way through the opening into the driver's seat. It was easier than last time. She wondered if it was easier on Shoko's end, or if it just felt like a loss of control.
"Satoru!" Geto screamed. No recognition flickered in Fushiguro's face— although, at this stage, there wasn't much point to subtlety anyway. Nobara doubted they could manage to explain Gojo, of all people, attacking a clan head unprovoked. "What the fuck, get off of him!"
Nobara just barely caught Gojo's long fingers forming a frog shape. He pressed his thumbs towards Yaga. When it appeared, the two collided with a thud, before it wrapped Yaga entirely in it's tongue. He was immobilized.
Gojo's fist met the old man's face, hard, and he just kept punching. The sound of skin on skin made something of a rhythm.
Geto was immobilized, frozen in a stance to summon something. It wasn't like when he'd fought Nobara, where his worry had transformed into anger. Now, he didn't know if he could win against whatever was taking over Gojo's body. He couldn't just jump in. Nobara doubted he wanted to fight Gojo, either because he didn't want to lose or because of the depth of his feelings. Maybe a mix of both.
"Geto!" she yelled. "Go get— this school has a doctor, right?" He nodded, and bolted.
She'd be way more useful with her nails. Of course, Shoko hadn't brought them, probably because she didn't have a good reason to walk around with nails or a hammer. It wasn't like they were standard things to carry around.
She needed to intervene, somehow, but getting in between a first-grade sorcerer and Fushiguro? While Fushiguro was enraged and had the full power of the six-eyes?
Nobara didn't want to die again, especially not over this.
For a brief moment, it looked like Fushiguro might not make it out. The old man twisted his hand, and a hand made of dirt wrapped around Fushiguro's head. It covered his mouth, his nose, his eyes. Another grabbed at his leg, pulling Fushiguro away.
Her gut lurched— but it really was only for a moment. She had no idea how he figured it out, but Fushiguro activated Gojo's limitless, and the rock crumbled around him. The dust filled the room, and Nobara blinked furiously, eyes stinging.
When she could see again, Fushiguro's hands were in the shape of the sign for divine dogs. His hands pointed towards the old man this time. Kuro materialized from the shadows, jumping towards his chest.
Nobara had expected the dog to bite.
What she had not expected was for Fushiguro to use the dog as a distraction, put the guy in a headlock, and bite hard enough to draw blood.
The bloodstains were dark, a stark contrast to Gojo's face and teeth and hair— which were all splattered with aforementioned blood. She could guess that this wasn't a new move for Fushiguro. She wasn't sure how disturbed she should be, that he was used to this.
Kuro growled, using the man's leg like a chew toy as Fushiguro hit the guy again for good measure. As the man finally fell unconscious, Fushiguro's attack stopped. His chest rose and fell in quick breaths, his forehead glistening with a mix of sweat and blood.
"What the fuck," Nobara whispered. She'd seen him fight. She knew he fought dirty. Never, not once, had she seen him like that.
"Is this— Was he like this? Before? You told me—"
She shook her head insistently. There had to be something going on here. Fushiguro spit blood onto the ground, breathing heavily, rolling his shoulders back and rubbing his right fist. All it took was one stupid, simple movement— the way he frowned at the damage, she'd recognize that frown anywhere— for Nobara to run up and hug him. He was disgusting, it'd get Shoko's clothes dirty, and frankly, everything he'd just done was insane behavior. None of that mattered. This was Fushiguro.
"Holy shit," she whispered into his ear. "It's you." Her voice shook.
Nobara was sick of losing people. Too many times, she'd let someone take a seat in her life, and then they'd left— or been taken away, or just vanished the moment she looked away. After Sukuna, a wave had swept away all the chairs, and she was just starting to bring them back. But here was Fushiguro. He looked like Gojo but that didn't matter; it was Fushiguro, and he was alive, and he remembered Shibuya and fighting Sukuna. Even if he wouldn't get some of the worst parts, like waking up next to Gojo's brain surgery, or listening as people assumed she'd never wake up. It was someone who could start to understand.
"Kugisaki."
"I hate you," she whispered. "Where have you been?"
"I can't stay long," he started.
"What?" No. That can't be right.
"Gojo isn't like Ieiri," he explained. His voice was soft, like he were comforting an injured animal, not a peer. "He's not capable of being keeping his soul intact, and I'm not killing him again." Gojo? Did he mean Gojo? How— "I can't be here much longer before he'll—"
"Are you stupid? You won't—"
"He can't sense the shape of his soul if I have the six eyes. Gojo's soul is already getting tangled in the edges of mine. If I'm here too long, I won't be able to de-tangle him. Until he figures out how to hold himself together, the longer I'm here, the harder it is to get him back. I can't take that risk."
She took a deep breath. In. Out. She moved a hand from Fushiguro's back to his chest, and pushed him away from her. "What?" she asked. Her voice cracked. She wanted to at least seem mad, but her devastation bled through. "So you're leaving me again?"
He just shrugged, a sad almost-smile on his face. "I missed you to." It felt like a betrayal.
"Fushiguro, I swear—"
"Megumi," he corrected.
Nobara just stared, dumbfounded.
She'd always been able to avoid letting the wrong people get seats in her life. Now, here he was, coming back only to leave again— and now was when she got to use his first name? Now, after waiting weeks to hear him say a single word, only for him to mess up any subtlety she and Shoko had been trying for? Now, after telling her that actually, no, she really was alone, but he could appear for a few moments if things were desperate— but couldn't watch a movie with her, couldn't go shopping, couldn't eat a meal. Couldn't be her friend.
To top it off, in a way, it was her fault. If she hadn't made that vow, if she'd trusted Itadori to handle it alone—
Then he could've died.
Like everyone did anyway. Like he might have done.
Like Nobara was supposed to.
"I can't fucking believe you," she scoffed. She couldn't meet his eyes right now— it was easier to be mad. "What am I supposed to do?"
"I'll be back." They both knew it was barely true. "Besides, you know what to do."
"No, I don't! I was in a coma, dumbass!"
"Make sure the assimilation is successful," (Tengen's assimilation? What did that even actually mean?) ,"keep an eye on Geto, keep Nanami-sensei's friend from dying," (He couldn't give her a name?) "and go after the disaster curses," he listed. "In two years, make sure someone is looking after me an Tsumiki." (What?) "Maybe get Maki-san out of the clan. If you can, try to find a way for me to get my own body."
"Oh, like it's that easy," she replied with a shake of her head. She didn't even know what half the things he'd listed were. Whatever was going on with Megumi and Tsumiki, he'd never actually opened up about. She knew of the volcano curse, and Hanami— but she had no clue where they were. The assimilation was a total mystery to her, no matter how much she'd tried to research it. All she'd gathered was that it was important.
The world blurred around the edges. Her grief wasn't a new feeling, but the way it seemed to sit in her chest, the way her breath caught on it, the dampness on her bottom eyelashes… she forgot how physical emotions were supposed to be. For so long, they'd just been like her: energy kept in the confines of her barriers.
This ache in her chest felt almost as bad as Mahito's hand had felt on her face. Frankly, she didn't understand what Megumi meant about Gojo's soul getting 'tangled,' but she did understand that she needed people to stop abandoning her. The yearning was primal: she needed to keep some remnant of everything she'd ever known.
She couldn't do this. How the fuck could she ever do what everyone expected?
How dare he abandon her? Leave her to shoulder the weight of the world?
"Bye," he whispered. As much as she wanted to stay mad at him, she couldn't stop herself from pulling him back towards her, as if she could hold him tight enough to anchor him to the real world. She watched as the shadows drained out of those eyes, and the fractured blue light returned. When Nobara let go of him, he swayed, panic growing on his face as he took in the world around him.
"What the fuck," Shoko yelled. "Alright, Nobara, he's gone, let me— Whatever the fuck that was—"
"Not yet," she muttered.
"What?"
"Not yet."
"It's my body—"
"Once I've talked to Yaga-sensei." She could feel Shoko pushing at her, but it was a lot easier to keep control than to take it. She gripped the wheel despite Shoko trying to pry her hands off. "Please?"
"I need to heal Gojo."
"I'm probably the only one who might know what's going on with Megumi."
"Gojo's bleeding."
"Do you really want to explain this?" That shut Shoko up, at least. Later, they would definitely argue more. Right now, though? Too much going on.
The moment Megumi had retreated, the frog and wolf had disappeared. Yaga had just sat against the wall, looking utterly stunned. Geto still was gone. Gojo had pieced together what he'd done, and when he spat someone else's blood out of his own mouth, he'd started gagging.
So that was probably the first priority.
"Gojo-sensei?" she said. Maybe this wasn't her Gojo, that was obvious, it just… slipped out. He was on his knees, head between his hands, coughing into the dirt. Nobara doubted any of the blood was actually his. She couldn't be confident, but the fight had been mostly one-sided. Gojo spat onto the floor again and again. She rubbed his back gently, and she felt infinity activate.
"Hey," she protested. "Come on. Let me help."
"What the hell did he do to me?" Gojo's voice was creaky. The blood still sat on his face, sticky and dark. His eyes were bloodshot, and there were tear marks on his cheeks. For once, he didn't look untouchable. He just looked like a scared kid.
Being the strongest didn't mean much against something internal, did it?
"Why? He— He bit him, I—" Gojo dry-heaved. It took his concentration off of infinity, and Nobara rubbed between his shoulders.
She hated that this wasn't the worst she'd seen Gojo. She especially hated the thought that she couldn't keep out of her head: at least everyone's brain was in their own body.
"Megumi took over," Nobara explained. "Apparently, he's been laying low for your safety. He fights dirty," she added, although that was probably self-evident. She didn't add that by the time she knew him, Gojo fought just as dirty as Megumi did.
"Why can't I even talk to him?"
"I don't—"
"One of you, explain." Yaga had, at some point, managed to get himself up. He glared between Nobara and Gojo— not his usual expression, a genuine glare— as if he couldn't decide which to be angrier with. Finally, he settled on Nobara. "Ieiri-kun, what happened to your face?"
"It's complicated." She took a deep breath in, wishing she were anywhere else. But she'd already pissed Shoko off, and she was the only one who could defend Megumi in the slightest.
Still, necessary as it was, this was gonna suck.