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Chapter Text

Chapter 1: White and Silver (A Duet) 

Gojo Satoru has an older brother.

Now, he never did tell anyone else, not even to his close classmates Geto Suguru and Ieiri Shoko, in passing nor in hints. Now that he thought about it, he supposed that the only individual at Jujutsu Tech who was aware that he was not an only child was Yaga-sensei, who of course, deemed it not important to spread such private information to the other students.

Such confidentiality was not because he hated the existence of his brother, in fact, it was the total opposite. Satoru loved his older sibling to death but hated the circumstances that his beloved nii-san was born into.

Satoru absolutely loathed clan politics.

It was no surprise to anyone in the Jujutsu world, of the power and infamy of his Six Eyes, a pair that currently only he possessed, unseen in any other sorcerers over a period of a hundred years. A long and hard journey undergone by his clan, covered callously with the hideous patchwork of politics, bloodlines and arranged marriages. A power that let Satoru be able to call himself the strongest, to mould space to his whims and to see what that is there cannot be seen by even the most hardened and experienced of Jujutsu Users, and even further beyond.

Between the two of them, he was the lucky one.

“Satoru?”

“Nii-nii?” His mouth automatically answered, and Satoru blinked, his mind coming back to the present. He turned his gaze from the dripping frosting of his shortbread, covered liberally with chocolate toppings and icing sugar in enough amount to give anyone severe cavity, to look up into a grey orb laced with concern.

“Is there something wrong?” His brother peered at his mostly untouched dessert, a clear frown on his face. It was one of the few times Satoru was able to see his face, for he usually wears a medical mask due to his condition. His skin was even paler than Satoru’s was, lacking pigmentation due to being confined indoors for too long. Beneath the fluorescent lights, he shone like moonlight, and combined with his naturally silvery-white hair, slightly darker than Satoru’s, he seemed almost otherworldly. 

His brother’s deep baritone voice continued soothingly. “I thought for sure that this was one of the recipes that you love to eat so much. Did I mess up today?” He sounded almost upset, even though earlier he was giving a lecture to Satoru about his bad eating habits, saying that he should cut back on his sugar intake. His brother really does spoil him.

Pushing back his thoughts for now, Satoru grinned widely, almost maniacally at his sibling, poking a fork vigorously into the dessert with such exuberance that a dollop of cream hit his cheek. “No, no, nothing’s wrong! I just got mesmerised by this beauty here!” He acclaimed, immediately shoving a mouthful into his mouth. His brother gave a pointed look at his horrid table manners and swatted his head with some degree of force to count as being playful. Satoru whined mischievously, grabbing the other’s hand, and placing it on top of his head, silently demanding a head pat.

His brother sighed, but obliged. “I really do spoil you, huh?” He said with exasperation, yet fond. Satoru hummed, enjoying both the delicious taste of the dessert and the comforting motion of his brother patting his head. Minutes passed silently as Satoru devoured his plate like a starving man, while his brother went back to his seat, sipping calmly at his black tea. The silence should be overbearing, but between the two of them, it was a calming ritual.

His brother should hate him.

But he does not.

“Nii-san should hate me!” His younger self had wailed to his older brother some years ago, clinging to the sleeve of his brother’s sweat-dampened yukata after a particularly bad coughing fit.

“But why should I?” His brother has sounded so confused, even as he kneeled before Satoru to wipe away the dripping tears that the younger would later vehemently deny. His brother was very thin even back then, hair unkempt like a wild forest bush, but he tried so hard to be gentle with whatsoever tantrum Satoru had thrown at him, bony fingers running through Satoru’s cloudy strands in familiar soothing motions.

“B-because of me, t-they, nii-san--!” Rejected you. Denied you. All because I have something that you do not have.

“Hush now.” His brother scolded him sternly, in the very few times his voice has steeled when talking to Satoru. He pulled Satoru into a hug, with the other sniffling into the collar of his yukata. He smelled like the leaves in the garden and soil, with a metallic hint of dried blood. There was also the lingering sense of the ozone, the smell of the incoming rain and the approaching thunderstorm. “None of this is your fault, remember Satoru. No matter what happens, I will never blame you for anything. Do not forget this.”

His brother was so so kind, and so so soft-hearted.

He really does not deserve this fate. Satoru thought glumly, as he finished the last of the chocolate string beneath the watchful eye of his brother. It was as delicious as ever, but even the most sugary of treats could not take his mind off from contemplating his brother’s hunched shoulders, and the dark bags under his only visible eye. He looked quite terrible, worse than the last time Satoru had seen him, which was two months ago. Studying at Jujutsu Tech has given Satoru the freedom that he has craved for so long, at the expense of his time with his brother.

“Are you keeping up with your medicine, nii-nii?” The words streamed out of his mouth before Satoru could fully think it over, though they were steady and full of conviction, with no regrets.

His brother blinked at the sudden question, and met with Satoru’s blue-eyed stare, darkened with ideas. To his credit, his brother did not seem startled, nor pulled away from his sibling’s questioning stare. Instead, he calmly placed his almost empty porcelain cup back onto the coaster, and gave Satoru a small, neutral smile.

The older sibling replied, “Not recently, no.”

Satoru gripped the linen of the tablecloth a little too tightly then. “How much recently?”

Only so did he hear his brother taking a small, almost inaudible intake of breath, a sign of his discomfort at being called out by the younger Gojo. “…Maybe a week or two.” A pause when the older attempted to finish off the remaining tea in his cup as a way to misdirect the conversation. At Satoru’s insisting glare, he sighed and relented. “Could be more. I can’t remember.”

Satoru snorted, teeth-gritting. Anger began to seep into his being. Some at his brother for his lack of concern over his well-being, but most of them were directed at his clansmen. “Why are they not replenishing it then? I told them last time-”

“Satoru—“

“Kakashi-nii.” At the sudden mention of the other’s name, the older sibling clamped shut, knowing that with Satoru saying his name instead of his nickname, that the other was serious. They stared down at each other, the atmosphere stifling. This was not the first nor the last time they had this particular argument.

It was a miracle that Kakashi has lasted this long. With his body constantly at war with itself, Gojo Kakashi, born into one of the three major Jujutsu clans, was not a sorcerer.

His older brother was not born with the Six Eyes, and the inbreeding with the clan was met with some undesirable results with his physiology, and some days, Kakashi cannot even move from his bed without wincing in pain and becomes easily tired if he uses some of his cursed energy during training sessions. His cursed energy itself is easily agitated, anxious and flowing unpredictably through his system, and from his Six Eyes, Satoru could see that the energy seemed to be fighting with itself, the flows twisting and diverging as if from two separate systems. He has a lot of cursed energy, but it was volatile and stressful to his brother’s already fragile body. It was not something that he could fix though, and Kakashi’s condition was met with puzzled curiosity within the Jujutsu community (those who are aware of his existence anyway), but none deemed it important enough to actually do anything about it since his brother, though of the Gojo clan, was of no one important.

His brother was living on counted days, and Satoru hated it. He hated this fact, and the fact that he could not do anything to change fate even with all the natural abilities that he was born with. He hated that even with how gifted Kakashi actually is, despite his disabilities, how extremely bright and cunning his mind was, that the clan members would never think of the older as anything more than the shadow of Gojo Satoru.

“I deserve this, Satoru.” His brother said, face grim, eyes dimmed as he seemed to remember something a lifetime ago. Far away from the reaches of his Six Eyes. His brother looked so old, so tired, as if he were living beyond a time that he should. Even though he was merely two years older than Satoru.

Satoru does not understand.

What he does understand, however, is that he truly loves his brother, and wishes things were different. He wants to take Kakashi sight-seeing around the country, see the wonders that Satoru could see due to his missions because even though he was the oldest, his brother seemed to have a childlike curiosity to the things around him, as though he has never seen them before. His brother seemed to be at his happiest when he was outdoors, amongst the foliage and the shade offered by the trees. Satoru wants to introduce him to his schoolmates, how he fooled around with Suguru and stole confectionaries from the pantry with Shoko on some nights. He knows that the stuck-up Nanami would have loved to talk about some boring topics with his brother, who has read a lot of books on a lot of things and can retain information like a sponge. Kakashi has never known life beyond that in the clan compound. The clan has kept them separated during their childhood for almost eight years, and it was only because of Satoru’s curiosity at the existence of the restricted wing located on the other side of the compound did he then find out that he has an older brother. By then, the only reason the clan has not thrown Kakashi out was because of his massive amount of cursed energy. With all the energy he has inside of him, Kakashi was a beacon for curses, which deemed him to be quite the delectable snack. Perhaps the clan thought (and is still thinking so) that they could somehow make use of such volatile potential.

“Nii-nii…” Satoru started.

“But I am here. And I have you, Satoru. My adorable little brother.” Kakashi smiled, and Satoru, usually jovial and uncaring, choked on his emotions, long eyelashes trembling. The clock on the wall continued its ticking, endlessly reminding them.

-x-

“The fate of being the strongest is a heavy burden indeed, Satoru.” His brother has said one evening with a hand holding a tattered book about the history of curses, while the younger was enjoying resting his head on his brother’s lap. His brother was always so indulgent, and Satoru wants to take advantage of his attention for as long as he can. Kakashi often pointed out that he was like a cat, lazy and attention-seeking, and Satoru never denied it. It was one of the few days when the school has allowed him to go back to visit his clan compound, due to the lack of missions, and Satoru hated leaving his brother alone amongst his prissy clan members for too long. He would no doubt have to deal with Suguru’s and Shoko’s nosy questions later, knowing how much he usually loathes returning to his clan.

“I can handle it, nii-nii! I am not a kid anymore.” Misunderstanding that the other was pointing out his lack of experience, Satoru pouted into a crease of the cloth. He could sense the kind smile on the other’s face bearing down at the back of his skull, and he harrumphed in embarrassment.

“I know you can,” Kakashi said, ruffling his hair, and Satoru preened under the praise. “It is just that being counted as amongst the strong, not even as the strongest, is often a lonely and perilous road. It can ruin people, and had, being often relied upon leaves you with no wriggle room for any mistakes lest the pedestal you were placed upon collapsed beneath you. People either start respecting or fearing you. Most of the times, you even started doubting yourself, and whether the convictions that you believe to be true were truly so or simply just inhuman human ideals.”

His brother sounded so wistful and sorrowful, so Satoru glanced up at Kakashi’s distracted countenance, who was contemplating absently at an illustration of one of the famous curses, Kyuubi no Kyoko, eye unfocused.

“What makes you say all of that, nii-nii?”

“Ah.” His brother tilted his head in ponder, bringing a palm to rest his cheek onto.

“Humans are wonderful creatures.” Kakashi-nii ultimately continued. “But horrible too. They can change, to good or from good.”

Satoru listened to the tinkers of the windchime in the summer wind as Kakashi patted his head. “No matter what the future holds you, Satoru, I pray that you hold on to yourself and what you believe in.”

(“Did you know it would come to this….? Nii-san?” Satoru numbly thought, unclenching his hand as he stared at Suguru’s retreating back, the distance between them ever-growing wider. The strong who protect the weak and the strong who eradicate the weak.)

-x-

His brother has a talent for cooking, and Satoru could not adore his brother more.

It started with simple recipes, like rice balls, simple yet tasty, much more delicious than the ones he got from the main kitchen. Then it included more complex dishes, complete homey meals that leave your stomach content and full. Later, Kakashi started delving into desserts, after Satoru admitted his fondness of sweets to his brother, albeit reluctantly, because his brother himself does not like sweets. His brother, without even pointing out their differences, proceeded to browse through the cooking books for more recipes that he could further use Satoru as a guinea pig (not that the latter was complaining or anything, no, absolutely not).

Kakashi-nii was a one-man army (of cooking).

Satoru loves it.

“Chew properly, Satoru. Or you’re going to choke.” Kakashi sounded quite amused as he looked at his younger sibling wolfing down his homemade meal of Katsudon like there’s no tomorrow.

“But nii-nii, I haven’t had your cooking for so long!” Satoru whined, picking up a piece of pork cutlet. “After eating your dishes, all the other food tastes like crap. You have ruined me!” He then stuffed a shred of omelette into his mouth, pouting with mock indignation. Kakashi gave his usual gentle eye-smile at the off-hand compliment and treated his younger brother to some strawberry pudding when his plate was cleaned empty.

“Nii-nii is making me fat!” Satoru wailed, while also simultaneously demanding his second serving. It was just so good.

With a full and happy belly, he then spent the next few hours helping Kakashi around his make-shift garden (which harboured quite the assortment of vegetables, all healthy and ripe for harvesting), showing off some of his new techniques that blasted off quite a few trees (Kakashi was impressed, but also disappointed at the collateral damage, for he loves trees) and just spending the evening basking in his brother’s company. Time flew just a little too fast and when he realised it, while enjoying telling a recounting tale of one of his mission to his brother (A 1^st Grade with an astounding shapeshifting ability that took on the form of a promiscuous woman, which was surprising itself, but has also taken a liking to Suguru, who was quite pissed at both of his classmates hollering in the background while he tried to fend off the curse’s wandering hands) that he noticed it was already quite late, the evening sky a mingle of dusky vermillion and orange. He has to go back to the school soon, before he gets ripped a new one by Yaga-sensei.

“Here, Satoru. A reward because you’ve been working so hard lately.” While he was fastening his shoes, Kakashi nudged him with a good-looking bento box, and Satoru’s sweets radar went haywire as he could make out the delectable smell of freshly baked sugary confections. All too happy at the prospect of getting to enjoy more of his truly amazing brother’s delicacies, Satoru glomped his brother in his delight, who gave a meek protest at the contact, but nonetheless, let the younger hugged him for as long as he wanted to.

‘Nii-nii~’, Satoru sang praises in his mind, wondering what he had done in his past life to deserve being blessed with a brother like Kakashi.

He said his goodbye and promptly hurried back, both in excitement to see what Kakashi has managed to conjure up this time and for his self-preservation (Yaga-sensei had a mean punch, and while Satoru could protect himself against anything, he knows how to read the room, dammit).

The moment he reached the stone stairways and the lone Torii gate that guarded the entrance of the school, Satoru let out a loud sigh, for he was relieved. He had managed to refrain himself from sneaking a glance into his precious cargo, for during the duration he was hurrying back, it was greatly beckoning him with all of its delicious sweety might, the smell of hot cream and melting sugar wafting into his nostrils. It was so tempting that Satoru has even attempted his half-finished technique of teleportation, managing to cover a good amount of distance with each jump. Though it could use some more work, Satoru thought, as he pulled out a twig from his locks.

Now that he was finally safe from the prospect of being punched on the head as punishment, Satoru wiggled his fingers with an exuberance smile, pushing the tip of his thumb beneath the cover lid. Saliva began to pool in his mouth as he slowly and deliberately began to push the lid over, and he could swear heavenly light was permeating from its content when Satoru finally uncovered his given bento box.

Cream puffs. About a dozen of them; thin, airy choux pastries filled with a lot of vanilla cream. Each was about the size of his fists, their crispy, cracky crust dusted magnificently with a thin coating of icing sugar.

Satoru squealed as silently as he could.

“Are those cream puffs?” Suguru glanced over his shoulder, with Shoko peering from the other side. Satoru was so enamoured by the beauty of the dessert that he did not even notice the two sneaking upon him. Were they waiting for him?

“Fuck off, you two,” Satoru growled possessively, promptly slamming the cover shut and hiding the box full of delicious treats from view. To no avail, the two vultures crept closer to him and his prized possession.

“You were away on one of our days off and you didn’t even bring us back a souvenir? That’s harsh.” Shoko pointed out, and Suguru, ever the traitor, nodded in agreement at her words. Satoru sweat-dropped as his classmates cornered him from both sides, eyes fixated on the box that he so desperately tried to hide behind him.

What then ensued was a good 20 minutes of wrestling between the three, two-against-one, until Satoru decided to give up, because it would be no good to waste the freshness of his hardworking, lovable brother’s homemade treats, and he really did not want the cream puffs to get squish amidst the scuffle. He pulled at Suguru’s hair and tried to tug Shoko off his arm, who was grossly trying to bite his elbow.

“These are really good. Where did you get your hands on these?” The long-haired vermin that was Suguru asked as he mooched on a stolen pastry, distinctly impressed. Satoru scowled as even though he had slapped Shoko’s hand twice already, his female schoolmate just ignored the warning and grabbed another helping, her usual dead eyes twinkling at her victory. They had relocated to the nearby building, which conveniently had a bench near the vending machines.

‘’My brother’s cream puffs…” Satoru bemoaned in lamentation after he took a quick glance inside the box and realised that there were only five pieces of those wonderful creampuffs left. He took a hasty bite in case the vultures wanted more (and they most certainly did, as if both of their hands shackling themselves to the sleeves of his uniform to prevent him from running away was of any indication), too busy marvelling at the exquisite taste of the crispy crusts accompanying the fresh taste of heavy vanilla cream to properly realise the bombshell that he has unwittingly dropped upon his classmates and best friends.

With the taste of heaven on his tongue, Satoru looked up to see that he was getting blank looks from both Suguru and Shoko.

“Your what?” They said simultaneously.

-x-

Kakashi-nii’s room is really bare.

There was really nothing of note or eye-catching in his living quarters, aside from his interest for reading, of which he had several small bookshelves located in his small living area, but asides from that, nothing.

The point that Satoru was trying to say is: It’s dull.

When he pointed this out to Kakashi, the latter simply shrugged and responded with, “What can I say?” He said in his usual drawl. “I guess I’m just a dull person.”

Satoru has squawked in indignation, almost automatically opening his mouth to defend his brother’s honour, but realised that he was going to argue for Kakashi against Kakashi himself. The older sibling then basically enjoyed several minutes of Satoru squirming with a raised eyebrow, amused.

This won’t do, Satoru grumbled to himself. He munched on a Dango, trying to think.

“Ah, here, senpai!”

Satoru blinked behind his usual dark shades when a nicely-wrapped box of confectionaries was placed in front of him unceremoniously. Upon closer inspection, it was full of a handcrafted assortment of mochis, premium quality nonetheless. He looked up to see Haibara beaming down, Nanami behind him with his usual solemn expression.

“I got you and Suguru-senpai this during our mission in Osaka!” The junior said jovially. Nanami grumbled something about wasting resources on someone like Satoru, but Satoru paid it no mind. He had a feeling Nanami was just being Nanami again (He would be the one volunteering to pay for Haibara’s generosity of souvenirs usually).

“Ah, thanks~” The pale-haired sorcerer swallowed the last bit of his dango before he delivered his usual charming smile, reaching out to mess with the dark-haired junior’s hair. The other laughed while trying to half-heartedly push Satoru’s hands away. All the while, his other junior gave the Gojo quite the glower before dragging Haibara somewhere, saying something about needing to give the other souvenirs for the rest as well. Satoru blew a raspberry at the retreating duo, falling back onto his seat.

Now, where was he?

Ah yes, he was moping about Kakashi-nii’s lack of decorum.

Muttering under his breath, Satoru leaned back, tilting his head at the elegant bright characters donning the cover of the paperboard box, which further showed elaborate illustrations of the treats within. He traced a finger along the edge, feeling the smooth plastic.

Souvenirs.

That’s it.

What’s better ways than trinkets from various places to brighten up your living space?

The sorcerer grinned, pleased with himself.

Kakashi-nii, for as long as Satoru has known him, very rarely stepped foot beyond the clan gates. He mentioned before that he could technically leave the clan for they would really not care, but he stayed mostly for the benefit of the non-soccerers. When Satoru asked him to elaborate, Kakashi-nii looked distant, before saying that trying to live like a normal person while attracting every curse located in the near 5 kilometers radius does not really bode well for the survivability of anyone.

“I did leave once.” Kakashi-nii has said, and he glanced down at his right hand with an unreadable expression. The sunlight illuminated his dark lashes and somber look. “I almost died. Some...were not as fortunate. Of course, the very first curse I’ve encountered in my life was a First Grade.”

At that memory, Satoru’s good mood dimmed, but he puffed himself back up again. Kakashi-nii would not be able to leave now (and you can be damn sure that Satoru will do something about it), but Satoru would like to get some trinkets to show Kakashi life outside the walls. Something that can make that smile bloom on his brother’s face.

One of the many perks of going to Jujutsu Tech is that going to exorcise curses meant you can basically go on road trips. Satoru was the strongest, Suguru was strong as well, so they were often called to go on high rankings missions, which, due to the lack of sorcerers around, meant that the two of them basically traveled a lot. Shoko sometimes goes along with them as well, but usually for rescue missions, typically ones that would not prove to be too dangerous to lose someone of her precious technique for. So when the two of them were called to exorcise a curse in Kyoto not too soon after, Satoru had to hide his glee when Yaga-sensei was droning on about the entails.

“Well, that’s done,” Suguru said nonchalantly, picking up a ball of cursed energy to swallow. It was a 1st Grade they were against, but for people like Suguru and Satoru, it was a mere walk in the park.

“Yes, yes,” Satoru said with such impatience and made a face when Suguru turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow, his cheeks puffed like a chipmunk.

“What’s the hurry? Usually, you would enjoy fighting them. Gotten bored already, eh, Shoujo Eyes?” Suguru finally swallowed his disgusting meal and laced an arm around Satoru’s shoulders, a look of pure disinterest on his face. Satoru pushed at the other’s face in response, sticking out his tongue at the nickname.

“Where’s the souvenir store?” Satoru demanded, rolling his eyes as Suguru followed after him. After making sure that the curse was really dealt with and no non-sorcerer witnesses were around to see their clean-up, Satoru turned to his best friend, who was still tidying up. Good thing Satoru doesn’t have to clean up often thanks to Infinity. “I wanna buy souvenirs.”

“That’s quite unlike you.” Suguru pointed out, re-tying his hairband so that his hair would stop falling into his eyes. A speck of blood was still splotch on his forehead. Out of spike, Satoru didn’t mention it.

“Just having a shopping bug, that’s all.”

“What are you, a girl?”

Satoru pulled at Suguru’s cheeks at the comment.

“Alright, alright.” Suguru raised up his arms in surrender when the taller 2nd Year student finally relented in his fury, though his cheeks were now red from the pinching. “I do know one near enough where we are right now. Why is this important again?”

“What, I can’t pull a Haibara and be generous to everyone back home?”

Satoru raised his hands threateningly when Suguru opened his mouth to comment.

“Enough already! My poor cheeks have suffered enough today!” The dark-haired student grumbled, and the two of them set off to the roadside, where they followed until they were greeted by illuminating lights and old-fashioned buildings, with crowds of people, mostly tourists, loitering the busy streets. Suguru steered him into one of the crowded alleyways, and, with the shouts of bargaining vendors and customers, the two stood in front of a rather weary-looking traditional house, its double shoji paper doors wide open and beckoning for customers. The overhead windchime tinged softly as they went inside.

The sweet smell of hot red bean paste was what first greeted Satoru. It was a rather big store and despite its antiquity, held rather polished wooden walls and floors, with there were quite a few people milling about between the sections. One of the store attendants greeted Satoru and Suguru with a cheerful smile, to which Satoru gave back rather dashingly. He snickered silently when the poor girl blushed to the roots of her hair, before saying that he was going to take a look around first. He admired the rows of snacks and food located at the front counter, wrapped in bundles as gifts.

Suguru wandered off from Satoru, claiming that while he was here, he might as well get something for his parents. Satoru waved a hand at his retreating back dismissively, eyes glued to the abundance of choices in front of him. And the store has quite the line-up.

He knows that Kakashi was not too fond of sweets, so getting any of these famous snacks was not going to cut it. Besides, he was looking to liven up Kakashi’s room a bit, so how was food going to do that?

Satoru then moved on from the food aisle, to take a look at the shelves that harboured miscellaneous items.  Most were the typical tourists trap; overpriced keychains, mugs and whatnot. There was a row of kendama and koma, which Satoru skipped to observe the line of ceramic cups. There were some interesting designs, but Kakashi-nii already had a set back home, and he was a rather simplistic person. Satoru waved through the Koinobri streamers that got into his face as he ventured further into the premise, contemplating.

His older brother seems to really love dogs. (As if that one time where he tried to sneak several strayed puppies into the compound was of any indication, which failed hilariously as the puppies bundled inside his clothing became too excited and couldn’t stop yipping and howling). So if he could find something canine-related, maybe Kakashi would like that?

After scouring most of the shelves, the Gojo finally reached the last of the row located at the far back, which held the most interesting displays out of all he had just seen. There were one or two antique vases, but the shelf mainly displayed mini sculptures of the shrines situated throughout Kyoto. Kokeshi Ningyo also littered the space in various shapes and sizes, and one looked so much like Utahime that Satoru had to pick it up to examine with a snicker, knowing how much the other disliked him. Wooden Nekomata dolls flashed him their cheeky smiles as the sorcerer continued to inspect the impressive craftsmanship.

Out of the corner of his magnificent eyes, Satoru saw it.

It’s perfect.

“Nii-nii, here~!”

“Satoru, wha-”

Kakashi blinked when, with a cheerful grin, Satoru grasped both of his hands, his skylit eyes twinkling. He then sneaked something quite rough and pointy onto Kakashi’s palm, the unknown object barely the size of his hand.

“Ta-da~~” Satoru let go, and Kakashi eyed the gift he was handed over.

It was a tiny wooden figure of a Shiba Inu. It doesn’t have the best paint job in the world, looking rather messy with splotches of yellow mixing into areas of white, and with its somewhat googly eyes, combined with its petulant expression, making it a humorous sight to behold.

“I thought your room was a little bare so I brought back something to liven it up a bit. Isn’t he cute? Now the little guy can keep Nii-nii accompanied while I’m away, and Nii-nii will always be reminded of his cute, adorable, and handsome little brother every time you see him!”

“...”

“I’ll bring you back souvenirs from now on.” With an uncharacteristically serious look on his face, the younger man swore. “Though one day, you’ll be able to walk freely from these walls and see the world yourself. I’ll make sure of it.”

Kakashi stared at him with wide twilight eyes, as if in awe at his words and growth. Satoru preened under the attention.

But then-

“That’s all good and all, but,” Deadpanning, Kakashi pointed to the mountain-load of wrapped souvenir boxes that towered from behind Satoru, which was leaning rather precariously. All of them were wrapped in different colours and an assortment of wrapping papers, which made it even more of a sight to behold. “Did you buy the whole store or something?”

Kakashi tilted his head as Satoru gave a laugh, rubbing the back of his messy head.

“Hmm~? I couldn’t decide what to buy for everyone else and the snacks all looked so good. There was handmade taffy, and there’s even dried jelly, which is basically a specialty of the store. Not to mention- ” Satoru started rambling about the different flavours and sizes of the confectionaries he had seen when some of the servants started gaping at the sight, horrified at the taken space and the prospect of the mess that they have to later clean up.

“You little rascal.”

Satoru whined when Kakashi bopped him on the forehead gently, effectively shutting him up. The other turned away, but Satoru caught the small, serene smile on the other’s face as he caressed the face of the wooden figure on its snout with a careful finger, holding it up gently in a palm.

Satoru beamed brightly, in reminisce of the sun, just as Kakashi called him in for tea.

(One day, nii-nii, you’ll be able to walk freely without worry. That’s a promise.) 

-x-

After that mission, Satoru went home.

He was not exactly subtle in hiding his emotions, walking through the compound, noisily opening doors and footsteps echoing upon the wooden flooring. The servants milled around his sulking form, mindful of triggering his foul mood upon them. Baleful eyes scorned at him, the glares of his clansmen pondering over his misery as they were no doubt ruminating with one another the news of his latest failure. Half of him wanted to level his clan compound to the ground, the other half just wanted to go to his brother. The latter won, and he sludged on, ignoring the whispers. Infinity hummed around him, contempt in drowning the outside world.

Nii-nii.

Nii-nii.

His brother was leafing through a rather worn-down cooking magazine when he entered the room. The bags underneath his visible eye were more prominent than usual, and he looked visibly distraught. He glanced up when he heard the door slide opened, and his bloodshot eye widened upon seeing the younger’s form.

“Satoru.”

Before he even realised it, he was enveloped in a warm, shaky hug, though maybe he subconsciously did, for he has already deactivated Infinity without thinking about it. The familiar scent of the forest and ozone that belonged to his brother reminded him that at least, he was home. (Kakashi was home).

His brother silently took in the already nearly invisible marks left behind by Fushiguro Toji, thanks to his reversed technique, thumbing along what used to be life-threatening injuries. Each soft touch evoked the feeling of stinging raindrops, the other’s cursed energy humming its usual thunderous tune. With the both of them this close, he could see the dark stormy irises of his brother’s eyes, even the left one, which he usually covered beneath his long bangs. (“Force of habit,” Nii-nii has said when Satoru asked once.) Specks of stardust twinkled in those seas of grey, the remnants and possibility of the infinite etching into what could have been. His Six Eyes gleamed and pulsed, as if in mourning.

Kakashi did not ask him what happened (he would have already known from the gossip vines anyhow; Jujutsu sorcerers are always a bunch of loudmouths). Instead, he ushered Satoru’s still uncharacteristically silent form to sit at his usual seat, while, in almost an ironic sense of normalcy, asking him what he wanted for dinner. Satoru monotonously replied, “Anything.” To which his brother gave a sad smile to but nodded understandingly.

It was only as he was distantly listening to the sound of his older brother going around in the kitchen, and cocking his head to the reflection of himself in the bowl of Miso soup in front of him, that Satoru realised that he was now taller than Kakashi.

(Would his brother be as expendable as Amanai? Deep down, he already knew the answer.)

-x-

As soon as he was made Head of Clan, Satoru did what he had wanted to do for years.

“Eh?” Kakashi blinked at him owlishly, hands stilling during the process of making mochi. They were cutely rabbit-shaped and full of edamame fillings. (Those were Satoru’s favourites, though technically anything made by Kakashi is his favourite). 

“I want you to move into Jujutsu Tech,” Satoru repeated. He drummed his fingers against the surface of the table, a hand holding up his chin as he gazed at the marking on its wooden exterior. It was full of scratches and blemishes from all the meals over the years, full of fond memories. He even remembered the first meal he had with Kakashi at this very table, way back when they were mere children. But it was nigh time to move on, and look towards the future.

Kakashi was scrutinising him with a rather affable expression on his exposed face, so Satoru elaborated.

“I would feel a lot better during missions if you’re at the school rather than here. I’ll already be graduating later this year, and will no doubt be going on a lot more assignments. My new title and the inevitable rise in fame would undoubtedly lead to some people being unwantedly interested in you. At least when you’re on Jujutsu Tech grounds, you’ll be protected from curses and Shoko can keep an eye on you. Suguru as well, when he’s free.”

Satoru continued before Kakashi could protest. His Six Eyes glittered in exuberance as he laid out his plan. “Shoko, my classmate, is one of the very few Jujutsu users that can use reverse cursed techniques and is in the process of obtaining a medical certificate. I told her about your condition, and, as a token of our friendship, she’s willing to take a look at you. Which is a lot more than what these bastards have been doing after all these years.” The younger growled his last few words, gritting his teeth. Catching himself, Satoru breathed heavily through his nose. He rubbed at his temples in annoyance.

“I also need to fulfill a promise to someone,” Satoru added as an afterthought. It would be much easier to keep an eye on Kakashi and later on, Megumi if they are at the same place. They would be far away from the influence of their respective clans as well.

“Oh?” Kakashi looked meek at the mention of a promise.

“You stubborn fool.” Kakashi sighed after a while of contemplation, rubbing his temples. He shot the younger an exasperated fond look as he reached over to hand him a plate of done mochi. A familiar motion between the two. “When I even told you that my condition and position is none of your faults, and I know you’ve been plotting this a while. What a way to abuse your new position of power, Gojo-sama.” He teased at the end.

Satoru nearly chortled at the title, but he decidedly kept his cool to throw a pointed, totally serious look at the older. “Kakashi-nii, please.”

“…. Okay.” Kakashi turned his back towards Satoru. His shoulders hunched, seemingly cleaning up. The younger heard him mumble softly, “Though you think of me too much, Satoru.”

“You’re my Nii-nii.” Satoru replied stubbornly. He narrowed his dangerous eyes at his brother’s back, knowing that the other could feel it. “Am I supposed to feel indifferent about you?”

“I have done nothing of worth, Satoru,” Kakashi stated. “I wish I could do more, for you and for everyone.”

“Nii-nii has been Nii-nii to me, and for me, that’s enough.”

“Is it?” The older laughed almost bitterly. It was a foreign sound. “I can’t protect anyone.” He looked down at his hands, mind going to that faraway place that Satoru can never reach, even with his heavenly eyes.

“I will. In your stead.” Satoru stood up; fists clenched. Infinity strummed around him, humming a familiar tune. Kakashi heeded the melody and turned to gaze into his younger brother’s eyes. Satoru’s eyes may gleam like the waves of the ocean, but Kakashi’s onyx orb showed the deep abyss of its waters.

“I’m the oldest,” Kakashi said.

“And I’m the strongest,” Satoru said.

“But I can only save those who are willing to be saved,” Satoru added, almost pleading. His Six Eyes reflected the claps of an unwanted audience, the smiling faces of humanity’s beckoning ignorance, and the drips of blood upon a young girl’s braids. He didn’t want Kakashi to be anyone’s sacrificial pawn, ready to use and thrown away at the latest convenience. He stared deeply at Kakashi’s wavering visage, willing him to understand.

“Let me save you, Kakashi-nii.”

At his words, Kakashi gave a shaky exhale, as if he, too, was remembering something. A definite infinity passed between the two of them.

And finally, Kakashi nodded.

Satoru laughed ceremoniously with joy when Shoko, blank-faced as she usually was, told him that she has some ideas on how to fix the unstable flow of Kakashi’s energy, which would greatly reduce the strain on the other’s body. Of course, he can expect his older brother to live quite a few more years, maybe until his eighties if he wanted to put up with Satoru for that long.

“He can finally stop pinging like a curse attraction now I reckon,” Shoko prodded a bleary-eyed Kakashi, who had a disgruntled but resigned expression on his face while he was poked at. Almost as if he was most familiar with such motions. “And actually go outside now. Maybe get some sun while you’re at it, Gojo-san.”

“Clothes shopping~!” Satoru sang, looking quite excited at the prospects of dressing his brother up.

“No.” Kakashi deadpanned, and covered himself completely with his blanket (for he was on a bed), making motions as if to go to sleep. With a high pitch whine that suspiciously sounded a lot like a puppy, Satoru draped himself over the still bump like a limp octopus, going “Nii-san~~, come onnnnnn,” with his familiar annoying intonation.

Shoko watched on, and pulled out her cellphone to record just in time to catch Satoru being rolled over the bed railing by a rebellious blanket-huddling Kakashi.

-x-

But of course, nothing was ever that simple.

“What happened?” Satoru demanded, slamming through the door of the infirmary to see his brother curling into himself on one of the beds while Shoko was looking over him, a palm of reversed cursed energy hovering over his crumpled figure. Satoru himself had just gotten back from a mission when he felt the wild pulse of energy blasting throughout the school’s ground, a shockwave enough to send the birds flying and the sorcerers on hand to go on immediate alert. The air smelled distinctly of ozone, the scent of a storm approaching. Immediately recognising the signature as his brother’s, the younger Gojo had pinpointed his whereabouts, picking up Shoko’s energy near him as well and teleported, his heart leaping to his throat at the thought of something happening to his older sibling.

Sure enough, his Six Eyes instantly picked up the erratic flare of Kakashi’s cursed energy around him, cocooning him in a weirdly organised shape and flow, unlike any other cursed energy before. It was almost visible to the naked eye, and Satoru approached the duo, his own energy humming in retaliation to the storm. Lightning occasionally sparks from his brother’s form, blue and sharp, and Satoru could see Shoko wincing at being electrocuted, though she was fine due to her healing technique.

“Gojo, he’s- “Shoko began, but then halted when Kakashi gave a groan of pain, hands flying up to his eyes. His hair was dampened with sweat, and shivers racked the other’s frames, lightning running out in arches. The bed linen was slightly charred and blackened around the edges, which told Satoru that this has been going on for a while now. Standing beside Shoko, Satori reached out to touch his brother, confident that Infinity would prevent him from being fried.

“Nii-san. Can you hear me?” Satoru called out, eyes roaming carefully for any changes in behaviour or energy flow. Kakashi gave no indication that he heard him.

His hand was stopped before he could touch Kakashi though, and his eyes informed him that it was the other’s energy that was responsible for doing so. Curiously, it was acting like a barrier, protecting the other from any external forces.

He looked at Shoko, who sighed. Her hair was rather frazzled. Of course, Satoru pointed that out, which earned him a half-hearted jab to the ribs.

“His energy has been acting out for the past few days.” Shoko continued to try examining the older Gojo’s condition, despite being hindered. “It’s been stabilising, but today has been the worst spike yet. It might have been his energy trying to get used to being unobstructed, but his massive amount may have been too much to handle in one go.”

“Like a river after the dam’s being broken,” Satoru murmured, and at Shoko’s nod of agreement, prodded at the armour-like energy once more with a careful amount of cursed force that will usually be enough to breach concrete. Nary a scratch. He was curious as to the extent of how much the protective energy can tank, but his brother’s well-being comes first for now.

“On a side note, it appears that Kakashi-nii’s technique may involve thunder manipulation.” How cool. Satoru always wanted to try nature manipulation, kind of like the Avatar or something.

Satoru shook his head. Focus, Gojo.

For the next several long minutes, he remained at Kakashi’s side. With the help of the Six Eyes, he tried his best to keep track of the state of Kakashi’s energy, explaining to Shoko where she should direct her technique at, noting several areas where the cursed energy was weak enough for her technique to breach through. Though he could not really use reverse cursed technique on others, Satoru, too, sent some of his own energy to help block and redirect some of the denser flow, while hoping that his familiar energy signature would also help calm Kakashi down. At last, it seemed that they had helped stabilize it, for the air stopped smelling like ozone and lightning no longer shot out from the older Gojo’s form.

Kakashi slumped completely, groaning. Dissipating into crystalline dust, the armour-like energy broke, and Satoru swiftly caught Kakashi in his arms, before helping the other rest against the bed.

“….bito…”

“Kakashi-nii!” At the sound of the other’s voice, Satoru let out a sigh of relief, thinking that the other was finally coming to. He gestured to Shoko, who moved closer for an examination.

All of a sudden, both Kakashi and Satoru tensed, the former bringing up his hands to palm at his eyes once more while the other activating Infinity. He immediately pushed Shoko back behind him, while his other hand formed the signature for Red. A more condensed form has seemingly formed out of nowhere, making the air heavy and congested with its mere presence. It coiled around Kakashi-nii, wrapping him inside its black, cloudy tendrils. Even without a solid form, Satoru could feel the malice and anger residing within the shapeless being, glaring at him with all of its piercing emotions.

A curse. Satoru gritted his teeth. At least a 1st Grade too, though its rising negative pressure could easily push it into Special Grade. How could he, out of all people, has missed this?

A shapeless hand placed itself on Kakashi’s shoulder. Garbled gurgles of acidic blood spew forth from an invisible mouth, and wilted petals fell onto the white linen, leaving black stains. Traces of illusion clashed with reality, black tadpoles swimming in distorted space, swallowing light and expelling crimson. It was as if the being was phasing through the fabric of reality itself, creating and destroying and creating its tie to this plane of existence, over and over again.

“...I see.” Satoru heard Kakashi mumbled, a tone of pure melancholy and sadness tainting the other’s tired and exhausted voice. The cursed energy curled almost lovingly around the other, and Satoru tensely followed the movements, ready to fire off Red in case the curse decided to attack. The only reason why he hadn't done so yet was because of the curse’s proximity to Kakashi. His entire being was alerted and vigilant, and Satoru considered his odds, narrowing his eyes. He glanced back at Shoko, who kept quiet in order to not draw the curse’s attention to her. Satoru needed to take care of her as well, and get her out as soon as possible while trying to figure out how to get the curse to release its hold on his brother. For now, the curse is passive, but who knows what was going to happen.

“...Even now, you’ve trusted me this much...the future…”

“Kakashi-nii, wha-” Satoru snapped at the other’s rambling before he sucked in a harsh breath at the influx of energy. He darted forward as soon as he saw movement from the creature, which began to ...seep its presence into Kakashi’s energy coils.

Through the assimilating darkness, Satoru’s eyes foresaw the beginning of a red string.

Satoru brought up a palm reinforced with curse energy. He has to brute force his way then, and hope Kakashi-nii would be able to snap himself out of his stupor or not be too injured. He doesn’t know what the curse was exactly trying to do, but it was attempting to tie itself to Kakashi. Like hell Satoru was going to let it.

“Reverse Rotation Technique: Re-”

His hand passed through. The rest of his arm followed. 

Satoru’s eyes widened.

His Infinity has touched nothing.

The indefinite was met with the intangible.

He cancelled the technique; Satoru’s palm struck the wall behind the bed frame, and the whole length came crashing down. Chucks of debris and concrete flew forward from the force, and with it, a torrent of dust.

“Gojo!” Shoko cautiously called out as soon as the dust began to dissipate. She saw the other’s pale head hovering over his brother’s; it seems that he had deliberately hunched himself over Kakashi to protect the other from the rain of steel and stone. She looked around; there were just the three of them once more.

The curse was seemingly gone, but Satoru knew better.

“...Nii-san,” Very softly, the younger muttered, half-lidded eyes looking down at and through his brother. At the other’s call, Kakashi finally looked up beneath his sweat-dampened bangs, and the world screeched to a halt.

A pair of deep crimson, marked with the dark, bastardised pattern of a pinwheel, met the bluish, heavenly glow of the Six Eyes.

-x-

Omake:

“Ne, Satoru?”

“What is it, nii-nii?”

“What does this mean?” Satoru looked up as Kakashi shoved his smartphone rather animatedly at his face. He winced at the bright light permeating into his sensitive eyes, and softly nudged his brother’s arm a few inches away to properly take in the device’s screen.

“…Who taught you this?”

“Ah, Shoko-chan did. She said something about how most people used these…little pictures as a cryptic way to send messages. And she showed me a few popular examples and told me to figure them out.”

Satoru looked at the message again.

( 👅🍆🌋 )

“…I see.” I will kill her. ('It's a joke, Gojo' - Shoko)

-x-

Omake 2:

“Satoru never really mentioned to us that he has an older brother,” Suguru commented with curiosity, during his first meeting with Kakashi. He eyed the other and noticed the silvery bangs that covered the other’s left eye. The medical mask made it hard to see his face as well.

“I don’t particularly mind that he doesn’t, Satoru has other things to be worried about.” Kakashi calmly replied and shovelled another plate of homemade dangos to his guests (and Satoru). Finally, on the receiving end of his famous delicacies, Suguru and Shoko gleefully munched, while Satoru was avidly complaining about his shrunken portion.

“…I don’t suppose you have any embarrassing stories about Satoru’s childhood, do you?” Suguru exchanged a devious smirk with Shoko, ignoring the younger Gojo’s indignant shout at the question.

Kakashi gave a dreamy smile, eye misted in reminiscence. “As a matter of fact, there was this one time when he wanted to marr—”

“Nii-nii!” Satoru yelped in vain.

“Nii-nii?!” Suguru and Shoko both collapsed in laughter while Satoru, red-faced, tried to drag them out the door, spluttering about how damn rude some people were and how they kept leeching his brother’s snacks from him.

Kakashi merely sipped his tea, enjoying the company. 

-x-

Omake 3:

“We need to get you new clothes, nii-nii. You just can’t keep wearing those dreary yukatas all the time!” Satoru bemoaned, dragging an equally distraught Kakashi through the established clothing store that the younger himself preferred to buy.

Satoru shoved a handful of clothes into Kakashi’s arms, who staggered under the surprising weight. “Here, try these ones.”

The other gave him an annoyed, disbelieving look before Kakashi caught a glimpse of one of the price tags. “300 000 yen?!” He yelped.

“It’s fine, it’s fine~~”

“S-Satoru, I could easily feed you thousand times over with the amount you’re paying for just this shirt alone!”

Bless his brother, but really, does he really plan on feeding Satoru edamame-mochi until one of their untimely deaths? (Not that Satoru is complaining but-)

When he finally managed to shove Kakashi into one of the changing rooms, the other complaining and whining all the while (and it was amusing yet bizarre to see their roles reversed), Satoru leaned against the door, making it known that he wasn’t letting the other out until he has, at least, tried on what Satoru has dumped on him.

He heard Kakashi shuffling about inside, presumably giving up after seeing that not even the threat of not making Dango for tonight’s dessert could sway the younger Gojo (And it hurts, it really does, but sacrifices have to be made).

“...Well, this kind of looks like what I would wear during my free time, so…” 

Kakashi came out wearing a tight-fitting sleeveless turtleneck, the dark material highlighting the paleness of the other moonlight skin and the muscles of his abdomen. The other was in the process of putting on a cardigan jacket, the sleeves still stuck in the crook of his elbows, so his shoulders were bare, and showing off the lines of his biceps. The other has also opted for a dark grey-coloured pair of jeans, which hugged his long, thin legs very snugly.

!!!

Lewd, too lewd!

“W-what’s wrong-?” Kakashi gave the other an alarmed, wide-eyed look when Satoru had, in the blink of an eye, pulled the other’s jacket shut so tightly that Kakashi’s arms went crossed in the process. Satoru said nothing, a dark shadow hiding his eyes.

Dangerous.

Too dangerous.

Who knew that his lovable, hardworking and innocent (?) nii-nii could wear something like this?!

“...Kakashi-nii, you can’t go out looking like this. Change back.”

“Eh?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Beyond the Void (Lay You)

Hatake Kakashi has died with a lot of regrets, his physical body mauled, his soul in tatters.

“Kakashi-sensei, hang in there!” Through the cloudy haze that begins to surround his mind, Kakashi could faintly make out the sounds of an ongoing battle, and through it, the voice of Kakashi’s only female student. The barely conscious man tried to console his student, but words were blocked and the only sounds that he was able to make was a gurgle filled with blood.

He could not feel anything below his waist, and his right arm felt numb too. Madara had got him good with one of his Truth-Seeking Orbs, and Kakashi could not move out of the way in time, only managing to push Sakura away from the line of fire.

The pain was immense.

He heard Kurama’s roar and the sounds of Sasuke’s whizzing arrows fired from his Susanoo. Madara was laughing madly as if he was having the time of his life. The war was going with no end in sight. Rivulets of crimson streamed through the haphazard earth, those who were unfortunate enough to escape from the carnage.

Despite it all, through the heavy screams of terror and fear, he felt weary.

“Kakashi.”

“I will see the future with you.”

A curse.

Words and feelings that were born from feelings of regrets and despair.

‘Obito…I…’

Love.

Obito was gone, once more.

And Kakashi was left behind, once more.

‘With your eye, I will see the future in your stead.’

A promise. A declaration. A curse.

One that lasted more than a lifetime.

-x-

The curse of re-creation. (The future, do you see it?)

Hatake Kakashi had died on the night of 9^th October of ----, lips full of crimson and the lingering sense of regrets and despair tearing into his remaining limbs. The Earth trembled at his passing, soaked with blood.

Gojo Kakashi was born on the 25^{th of} June of 1987 on a rainy night, the Heavens tearing down upon his existence and at the sight of his dark, stormy eyes, was cast aside by his new family as he was found unworthy. He only remembered slightly of his birth mother, whose hair reflected the moonlight and her scent reminding him of the ocean, and before she too, set him aside for another attempt of having a more successful heir.

This Kakashi was born in a relatively fragile body, but his chakra was strong, immense, flowing in large amounts to rival that of even an Uzumaki. But something was off with the ratio of his Yin and Yang, the Yang greatly tipping the other with large ridiculous quantities. It seems that his newfound body has inherited his chakra reserves from the past, but combined with his own current inherent cursed energy, caused the two to collide with each other for control, and no amount of meditation can ease the flow of energy within him. And try as he might to rebalance the flow or correct the impartial balance, something within him protested and throbbed, as if fighting him. His lungs always felt as if he has just swallowed a whole rosebush, prickles of its stingers creeping along his airways and blood veins.

It had made breathing quite difficult, to be honest, for his pathways was clogged with unneeded chakra (or cursed energy, this new world is bizarre) and if Kakashi thought he was weak before in his previous life, the fact that he cannot even utilise his reserves properly and every nerve in his body fighting with every shaky breath him made him feel quite dreadful, and on some bad days, he simply laid on his futon, too disheartened to even live out his day. He wondered if he should cut this life short. He stared up at the ceiling with dimmed eyes, and as his mind wandered, he remembered the man who was Hatake Sakumo and how he came to be, gritted his teeth, before willing his aching body to move.

The days crawled by slowly and painfully; Kakashi stared as the sky changed from vermilion to dusk to and cerulean blue with glazed, baleful eyes, sometimes sitting wistfully on the wooden veranda of his humble abode, observing the way leaves fall and wither while small animals scurried about in his backyard. It was quiet and reserved, unlike the chaotic realm that he has left behind. No fighting, no bloodshed, no roars of vermillion or miasma thickened with iron. The distinct lack of death and ash permeating the air around him.

This was peace.

The peace that Naruto and his generation have been fighting for. And succeeded, it may seem, gained through pure struggle and a lot of sacrifices.

Kakashi missed his rowdy bunch, his trio of misfits. He hoped that they were able to achieve their respective hopes and ambitions. He wondered whether Naruto was named Hokage after the war was over, or if Sakura has taken over the hospital in Tsunade’s stead. Or, if, Sasuke, the most problematic one of all, managed to reconcile with the Uzumaki, and has returned to the village? Or has he, along with the other Uchihas, perished due to treason and conflicting misunderstanding?

Kakashi shall never know. (He was unneeded after all.)

He tried to learn more about this new, confounding world. He never saw his father, and his mother, once Kakashi no longer needed her breast milk, left him to be raised by the servants. Kakashi supposed that he should be thankful that they were kind enough not to throw him to the streets, and instead, let him have his own wing, which was quite spacious and even included an in-built kitchen. It was in the distant corner of the compound, quite far off from the main buildings, so Kakashi rarely saw any of his extended family, nor do they care enough to visit him. Kakashi did not mind; he quite liked his privacy, and he has more than enough space in his corner of the courtyard to do some training and even grow a make-shift garden to take his mind off things. At his requests, the servants brought him books, and even some clan texts, which contained valuable information. Kakashi valued this opportunity greatly, for, during his past life, he knew nothing of the Hatake clan; his father passed away without the opportunity to relay generational knowledge or technique (besides his blood-soaked tanto), and clan texts were lost, so the present him almost gleefully leafed through the weary pages, taking in the words and diagrams.

He found out through them about the existence of curses, beings born from the negative emotions of humans, and cursed energy, a power source aligned with negative emotions such as grief and anger and how, with the absurd amount of it in his body, made him to be quite an attractive snack for these creatures. He found the latter out the hard way.

When he was 5, Kakashi, fed up with his sedentary life in the compound, snuck out from beneath the eyes of the servants and clan members. It was not admittedly, an easy feat; his shaky breaths made him fearful of being discovered so quickly like a genin on their first infiltration mission. Still, he powered through his self-afflicted mission, ears prickling at the slightest of sounds. The compound was relatively big, but there was a lot of crooked corners and buildings which shadows that Kakashi can blend himself in every time someone passes by. He came by the main entrance, guarded by a lone Torii gate, and within its guardian-like presence, the formation of a barrier. At first, he merely observed it, trying to find any weak points that he could utilise his escape. It was after a lot of prodding and with boredom and callousness-filled mind that he thought, ‘Screw it,’ and plunged his left hand straight through.

It was unlike any sort of barriers he has come across. It rippled and slugged around his wrist, like ink in a bottle.

Curiously, the barrier was meant to keep things out, not to contain someone or something in. Snapping himself out of his curiosity-filled stupor, Kakashi continued to slip through, following through the used trails and scents of civilisation nearby.

Apparently, he was reborn in a vastly different time, and Kakashi stared in awe at the moving metals on the roads that were not made of dirt or concrete, wincing at the loud noises they made when they whizzed past. The buildings were very tall, reaching heights to which he had never seen before, some made from metals and most reflecting the absurd amount of glass panels that they had. There were quite a lot of stores as well; people were bustling about in the daylight, going about their respective interests. As he was taking it all in, the folks wandered around him, wearing clothes made from high-quality materials that Kakashi has only seen worn by the personnel in the Daimyo’s court. 

He followed through the suburbs with curious eyes, unaware of the attention he was getting from the shadows.

“Hey, kid. Hey, you.”

The young Gojo was staring into the reflective screen of a strange metallic box when he was called by a stranger, a man who looked in his early twenties. Tattered clothes, with an oversized jacket, the man also wore a dirtied beanie, which has almost completely covered his seedy eyes.

“You look like someone who might be interested in some…adventure.” The man drawled, a sleazy grin on his soddy face.

Geez, hooligans still exist nowadays?

“What kind of adventure?” Kakashi asked with large gullible eyes, a typical picture of youthful curiosity and excitement. He could tell that the guy has bought his act, for he gave a rather mocking, friendly grin in response.

“The fun kind.” The man stated with a honey-laced tone, and Kakashi made sure to grin excitedly at the prospect of having to enjoy such entertainment.

Kakashi supposed he could humour this guy and go along with the charades before he gets the living shit beat out of him. So, playing the role of an innocent, clueless child, Kakashi nodded eagerly, naïve exuberance prodding the spring of his steps as he followed the shady man. They went along the streets, blending perfectly with the crowd. Soon enough, with the people began to decrease in numbers the further they got out from the heart of town, the man moved to walk behind Kakashi, steering him away and prodding him along. Kakashi whined that they were taking too long, that his feet were sore, and he was absolutely dying of thirst. He did all of these with a melodramatic tone, and he knew it irked the man so much that he dropped his friendly façade, telling Kakashi to shut up before gripping his forearm in a tight grasp. Kakashi let himself be dragged along, amused at how twitchy the man’s brows were.

They arrived at a half-finished, maybe abandoned construction site for an office building, the sign too faded from the weather and time for Kakashi to make out its forgotten name. Pile of cement and construction tools still laid bare under the sun in the courtyard, tall grass covering them. The front entrance was boarded shut, but the guy steered him sideways into the back, and there Kakashi saw that one of the panels has been smashed partly through, granting entrance into the otherwise inaccessible area. Obviously, this was where his usherer laid his headquarter, for he pushed Kakashi into the hole with a hard shove to his head, threatening to ‘make it hurt’ if the child did not listen to him.

Playing the victim, Kakashi complied.

There was barely any light in the haphazard building, even with the blazing sun still shining outside, but Kakashi’s eyes quickly accommodate to the darkness, used to infiltration in the dark. It was obvious to Kakashi that his ‘kidnapper’ must have used this location for quite a while for after he squeezed through, he grasped Kakashi’s arm once more and navigated through the hallways with ease. The building was of considerable size, hoisting multiple spaces and high ceilings, though from desertion there was unfinished exposed wirings and rebar still sticking out from the crumbling walls.

 Kakashi said to him that he did not quite like this proposed adventure anymore and wanted to go home.

“Too bad,” the man huffed. “Stupid kid.”

There were two other men with equally shabby appearances but different statures loitering in the room he was brought in, playing solitaire. There was light streaming faintly through one of the boarded windows, bringing slight respite to Kakashi’s eyes. The men looked up from their cards and grinned when they saw their smug friend holding onto a petrified-looking Kakashi.  

The one with the sleazy, greasy hair stared at him with interest, especially at his clothing. Kakashi knew they were specifically tailored, and not cheaply made. “You’re a rich brat, aren’t you?” He grinned, pleased at the prospect of getting quite the catch.

The other two giggled like bumbling idiots, obviously drunk on thinking about their future haul.

Alright, he already has enough of this. Kakashi lazily yet subtly moved into a disarming stance as his ‘kidnappers’ were preoccupied, thinking that he should just tie these goons up before leaving them at a nearby police station and going on his merry way when he froze. Goosebumps flooded on his skin, a sense of clamminess sweeping over it. The air thickened with an unexplainable murk; his neck prickled, the feeling of someone or something watching him like a predator fuelling his uneasiness. His heart started racing and dread gnawed at his insides.

Apparently, he was not the only one who was experiencing it. Greasy looked up with an alarmed look. “Do you feel that?” He asked, a quiver of fear in his tone.

“Feel what?” Beanie asked distractedly as he tried counting something with his fingers.

Beanie never got his answer. Something shot out from the dark corner, quick as lightning, snatching Greasy with nary a sound. His terrified eyes met Kakashi’s for a bare second before he was gone. He was dragged so easily and so effortlessly for a man his size, that even Kakashi was left dumbstruck, feeling animalistic panic settling into his bones at the hidden threat.

There were dull sounds of a struggle, then nothing.

Kakashi smelled iron.

The other two only looked up when they noticed that their friend was silent. “Hey, where did Hitoshi go?” Beanie said, now alarmed. He noticed Kakashi’s wide-eyed stare at the corner and snapped at him impatiently. “What’s wrong with you, kid?” He asked unkindly.

Mousy prodded him. “Forget about him for a moment and see where’s Hitoshi gone to,” Beanie grunted.

“Fine but tie the kid up first.” Mousy moved to do as instructed while muttering obscenities, Beanie went to the corner, right where Greasy had died. Kakashi tried to warn him of the impending danger, but his throat felt clogged with his words, so he could merely watch as with a sickening crunch and a bloodcurdling scream, he too was snatched up by the darkness.

This time, Mousy saw his friend’s demise. He yelled.

Being spotted by its preys, the darkness began to expand, tendrils reaching out to grasp at the walls. The dark spot moved upwards to the ceiling, and a gigantic form fell from it to shake the earth with a mighty tremble.

A darkened, massive glob that seemed to be only growing bigger to more you look at it. Its upper body was a shapeless mess, the skin constantly bubbling like a pot full of boiling water, whilst the lower was made of a frog’s legs and underbelly, with warts that spouted visible clouds of purple.

From nowhere, it let out a screech, one that tore directly into your soul.

“What the fuck is that?!” Mousy screamed, just before giant claws, formed from the gurgling animated broth, snatched him up abruptly, its speed even catching Kakashi off guard. His scream for life was cut short and with a jerk of his thrashing legs, he went limp. For the monster has bitten off a portion of his upper body, trails of intestines hanging limply along his sides. Crimson pooled beneath, steadily growing.

Only Kakashi was left.

Even with the history of battles and kills under his belt, the young Gojo found himself petrified in the face of such unimaginable horror, an unrecognisable shape brought forth from negative human emotions. With a final gurgle, it finished off its latest meal, before shifting its focus onto Kakashi. It has no visible eyes from what Kakashi could see, but he has no doubt that it would have no trouble in chasing him down.

A bead of sweat ran down his temple, and the monster sprung.

It was fast. Really fast.

Kakashi managed to block one of its spears, which has solidified enough from its deceptive former squishy form to one of almost steel, wincing at the pure force and the exertion on his arm. He tried to back away to increase the distance between them, but whatever the thing was, it has some degree of intellect, for it scurried after him in mere nanoseconds, its limbs regurgitating in its desire to catch its prey. Gathering some lightning in his hand, he shaped it like a blade, and sliced through several of the limbs with ease. Unfortunately, many more immediately took place, and the former Hatake decided to retreat for now. He ducked beneath a pummelling strike and ran in the direction he knew where the exit should be.

The floor seemed to stretch on for miles, and Kakashi knew something was wrong, for he has passed the same graffiti-filled wall twice already. He brought up his hands to dispel the illusion, muttering ‘kai!’.

But the endless maze remained.

With his current condition, it was obvious to Kakashi that he would not be able to outrun the monster for too long; as it was, with a final desperate to escape the nearing tentacles he has used some of his energy to reinforce his movements, but something within him screamed and tore at his nerves and insides so viciously that he let out a screech at the intensity of it. His limbs froze and locked in place; the young child could merely watch at the approaching monstrosity with wide eyes. It swatted at him much like a fly, and Kakashi flew back, the hit sending him crashing into one of the steel beams. The metal groaned, and Kakashi slid down to settle in a limp heap.

Kakashi coughed out blood, shivering as his energy continued to throttle his innards like a rampaging bull, making his muscles seized up in pain. He managed to push himself up to his elbows, but not much else. Black spots filled the edge of his swimming vision, crimson dripping down his chin to taint the floor with its droplets. The creature, seeing this, let out a string of inhuman giggles, a pitch higher than that of a hyena. The nauseating sound echoed throughout the empty building, making the pounding in Kakashi’s head that much worse.

The feeling of dread starting to weigh in on him when he tried to move, for nought.

The monster crawled closer to him, appendages sloshing about in its glee. One of its limbs wrapped around his ankle, and before Kakashi could even shudder at the horrifying sensation, lifting him up into the air to dangle him in front of its ugly face. Kakashi rapidly blinked the blood out from his eyes, but got a great, unfortunate shot of the multiple rows of sharp, razor teeth, its gaping jaw stretching wide to claim its next victim. Its breath reeked of death and decay, so putrid it created a physical cloud when it heaved.

One of the men’s whole eyeball was still wedged between those fangs, its pupil staring at him.

The air smelt distinctly of fear and anger. Reality seemed to distort.  

“Stay. AWAY.” Animalistic instincts kicked in, and, out of pure desperation, Kakashi roared wildly at the creature, and let loose his energy in one massive output. The result was disastrous.

Agony.

Anguish.

When Kakashi could not control his energy at all, nor did he do any attempts to, it was released frantically from his tiny body in a massive shockwave, the force strong enough to instantly disintegrate the slimy appendage that was touching him. He landed on the concrete below with a painful smack as lightning shot out in rapid arches, striking down anything within its path with unrelenting mercy. The sound of a thousand birds was a deafening and familiar noise as it struck the monster heavily in its disfigured face with a disgusting squelch, and the thing screeched horribly, the smell of charred rotten flesh assaulting Kakashi’s nose. The whole building groaned, before losing structure, raining large slabs of concrete and metal around him.

Kakashi rolled onto his side, both to keep the blood pooling in his mouth from choking him as well as to keep the withering monster in sight. It was still alive, though heavily injured, its gaping maw practically obliterated. The only that was left of the being was the small fragment of a blob from its torso, a withering mass of negative emotions struggling to maintain its meagre form.

Kakashi raised his hand, half-lidded eyes taking in the of the monster what he knew to be a curse somehow screaming at him in anger even without a mouth.

Its incessant screeching was not helping his head. “…Shut…up.” He muttered, and with the last ounce of concentration that he had, clasped his fingers. His energy followed suit the movement, arches of thunder sprang forth from the ground beneath the monster, closing it in like a Venus trap. It was not to snare it though; with a horrendous, merciless shriek, his energy gutted the monster from the inside out, leaving chunks of its meat to tumble in a monstrous, steaming pile.

Through the haze of pain and numbness, Kakashi remained on the brink of awareness, thinking of the day he had. He could feel the flesh around his right limb burning, the aftermath of a burnout.

‘This suck,’ he thought, then with a humorous disconnection with reality, continued with, ‘I want Miso soup now.’

He did not how long he has remained there, but as he was about to come to term that the cold, hard floor was now his best friend, shuffling noises prickled his ears. He held his breath, as miasma thickened the air with its putrid odour.

“Gigigigi,” a reptile-like creature crept up to one of the destroyed pillars, looking quite normal if not for its gargantuan size and the myriad of multi-coloured eyes covering its head. “Gigigigigigigigi—“

Not another one. Kakashi closed his eyes, willing to accept his fate. He could hardly breathe, much less pulled off another stunt like earlier.

“Gigigigigi—shriiiiiiiiii!” The clattering was abruptly cut off with an ear-piercing shriek after a whizzing sound of an arrow being fired. Wondering if his luck has abruptly changed for the better, Kakashi cracked a tired eye open half-heartedly to see the monster was missing a good chunk of its head.  

“What the- “One of the humans who has just arrived at the scene let out a gasp of shock at the sight, the image of pure carnage with spews of inorganic organs and blood spewing about. His partner cautiously stepped forward, casting a careful eye around the destroyed building, before catching sight of Kakashi’s wild silver hair. “There’s a kid here!” He gasped in shock, and rapid footsteps neared his fallen body.

“He’s still alive!”

“H-Hey, kid, stay with me!”

His instincts nagged at him at the presence of energy surrounding the duo, which told him, that they were like him. That he could trust them.

Kakashi managed to wheeze out a, “…G-Gojo…” before exhaustion took him and he fell into the abyss of unconsciousness.

He woke up later in his futon, the smell of antiseptic filling the air. His body immediately screamed at him in protest, and despite the heavy feeling of stones clogging within his chest, Kakashi sat up. Bandages covered his chest and arms. A man whom he has never seen before was leaning against the dark corner of the wall, a thoughtful, albeit cunning expression on his aged face.

It was his father.

“A shame, really.” The man told him. He was neither upset nor mad about Kakashi's escape. Something twinkled in his eyes, which made Kakashi felt uneasy. It reminded him much of an old, cunning fox. “You could have been the Honoured One.”

Despite the scratchiness of his throat, Kakashi managed to croak out a hoarse, “W-What?”

His vision swam nauseatingly, which made it even harder to fully make out the features of his father’s face. Still, he felt the other neared him, and he tensed as fingers carded through his dampened hair. He tried to turn his head away, but the fingers were deceptively gentle but forceful, keeping him in place.

“Shh.” The man, who was his father cooed, and Kakashi felt himself bristle at the sound as he was being led to lay back down again. “It is alright, young one.”

There was a biting retort on the tip of his tongue. He made to speak his mind about the vileness permeating from his supposed father, but then the man tapped his forehead with his forefinger, and his surroundings blurred. His consciousness flew from him like a startled bird taking flight, and as his eyes slid closed, he caught the movement of the man’s lips, maybe belittling him for the last time, but the words glided over him and he fell asleep.

-x-

The following entails the casualties of the event that has transpired on the evening of 17^th of April 1992.

Aside from the three men who made first contact with Gojo Kakashi and has met their end at the maws of a 1^st Grade, the surrounding buildings near the construction site were also afflicted with various levels of curse spirits. After the exorcism of the 1^st Grade, a 3^rd Grade was on site. We presumed that they were attracted by the curse energy of the boy. A family of four were found in their apartment; a grandfather, the parents with a child, deceased due to poison from a 2^nd Grade. A pedestrian who was walking nearby were also consumed by a wandering 2^nd Grade.

A Grade 3 Jujutsu Sorcerer was slain during combat.

Proper clean-up was initiated.

-x-

("Sir, should we do something about the child? His condition made him a severe public risk after all.")

("No, the Gojo stated that they have it handled. Keeping a proper leash on the kid this time and what-not.") 

("...I see.)

("...Besides, the kid won't last that long. His body will burn out sooner or later.") 

-x-

When he was 6, Kakashi found out through the servants that he apparently has a younger brother, and, through the gushing and gossiping, he, quite politely, queried about him. The servants, one who he knew to be Saiko and Homura, both young girls who were quite the gossipers, stared at him sheepishly at being caught, but they were kind-hearted, and at Kakashi’s puppy dogs’ eyes (He still got it, yes), ushered him back to his room to give him a snack while explaining to him details that they could disclose. His younger brother, born two years after him, was named Satoru. He was the successful child that his parents and the clan have, for a long while, been aiming for, for he has acquired the powerful bloodline known as the Six Eyes, one that has been seen without for over a hundred years.

A very powerful bloodline and judging from what Kakashi has read from the clan texts, one that if trained and utilised efficiently, enabled the user to use the Gojo’s techniques, which were potent and hard to muster, much more easily. A power that came within the blessing upon one’s eyes; one that can alter the balance of the Universe itself. To see far more than a normal human, even that of a Jujutsu User’s capabilities, and to mend the intricacies of the fabric of space and potent energy within any beings.

The mention of powerful eyes made Kakashi feel ill, so he quietly asked to be left alone, and the maidens, misunderstanding that he was upset for failing to inherit such power, apologised, and promised to bring him sweets later. (Kakashi failed to mention that he disliked them).

In the silence of his room, Kakashi wept, haunted by glimpses of the past and voices of the dead. From the shadows, crimson orbs bloated with murky tadpoles glared at him as they dripped black blood onto the tatami, writing invisible hate-filled words.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

His hand burned, crawling with the blood of the innocent and his sins.

-x-

When he was ten, Kakashi met Gojo Satoru on a particularly warm night, on the eve of the child’s birthday. The little tyke has apparently gotten bored during the ceremony and, wandering off, somehow found his way to Kakashi’s humble little wing, far located at the corner of the compound. Kakashi himself was sitting on his veranda at the time, appreciating the chirping of the crickets and the glow of the moonlight when he noticed the set of footsteps making their way towards him from the garden. The air began to feel heavier and more congested with each incoming step from the unknown figure, as if the world itself was holding its breath and parting way. He looked up from his lap, for he was peeling a tangerine at the time, and found himself staring into the (heavenly, celebrated, honoured) eyes of his acclaimed younger brother.

“Who are you?” The kid has demanded, his light blue eyes piercing through Kakashi’s soul with its divine stare. Though he was still a child, the energy and potential that he possessed were overwhelming; it felt like the fabric of the Universe itself was bending around his small figure. Facing it, the Six Eyes were indeed formidable, and Kakashi could now understand the desire of the clan to manifest it. But Kakashi himself has faced figures that rivalled the might of the Gods before, and, unflinching, decided not to point out that Satoru was sounding quite demanding for someone who was intruding.

“Nobody.” Giving his usual eye-smile, Kakashi gave the answer, and he could sense the confusion radiating from the child at his reply, for his nose had scrunched up quite cutely.

“Somebody can’t be Nobody.” Satoru declared, and he sounded quite proud of himself for this particular revelation. He cocked his puff of head like a little puppy, still peering at the former Hatake in wonder with those piercing orbs, like a puzzle the gifted him cannot solve. “And you are certainly somebody.”

Kakashi tilted his head in response, much like the younger has just done.

“Your energy is weird.” Satoru, the cute, adorable kid, said in a not-too cute, adorable manner.

Kakashi hummed. “Is it?”

“You’re weird.”

“I suppose I am.” He will take that as a compliment. He has, after all, suffered through worse. (‘Friend Killer’, his mind wonderfully supplied, and his sore, pinkish hand twitched).

“Uh-uh.” Satoru then proceeded to do whatever the hell he wanted and clambered onto the wooden porch, never tearing his eyes away from Kakashi’s form, still gazing at the other as if he had never seen someone like Kakashi before. He sat next to the older, even now rudely looking beneath those long, snowy lashes. There was something akin to fascination swimming in those magnificent cerulean orbs, and the older knew that he would not be escaping those eyes anytime soon, no matter how vague he was being.

Thus, Kakashi offered him some of his peeled tangerines.

The kid came back after that.

And again.

And again.

-x-

“You’re my brother,” Satoru stated a week later, during one of his (uninvited) visits.

Kakashi hummed in confirmation, in the middle of peeling new tangerines. The one he was holding has some dark spots, so Kakashi threw it away, and grabbed another one. He has to finish this particular batch soon; they were growing spoilt.

“Yet I never met you before this.” Those eyes watched as meticulous fingers pulled off a cuticle, leaving nary still attached to the flesh of the fruit. It really was a slow process, yet Satoru never wavered in his gaze.

“The clan thinks that it would not prove beneficial in any sort of ways for us to meet I suppose.”

“Oh.” Satoru gave a pause at that, thinking about it. And then-

“I will raze this place to the ground then.” The eight-year-old said.

At that, Kakashi inhaled rather sharply and turned to look at the child, who looked rather serious at his threat. Pushing a plate full of meticulously peeled fruit into the younger’s hands, Kakashi paused in thoughts, before reaching out to gently pat the other’s hair. It was rather soft and curly, reminding him of a sheep, which he knew that Satoru was anything but. The dangerous child blinked owlishly at him when he did so, as if unfamiliar with the motion. The older felt saddened by this fact; his family members probably deemed it more important to train him to be a sorcerer than to treat him as a kid. (How familiar, the world never really does change).

Kakashi asked, “Why do you want to do that?”

“Because I like nii-san.” Satoru answered, and he leaned further into Kakashi’s palm, seeking more.

“And the clan is making nii-san suffer.” He tallied, munching on a piece from the plate.

“That’s not true,” Kakashi said amicably. “And you can’t always respond to everything with brute force, Satoru.”

“Why not? I’m going to be the strongest.”

“Because you will be making a lot of people unnecessarily sad, and I will be sad as well.”

Satoru seemed deflated at this fact. “Oh.” He uttered, eyes sparkling beneath the sun rays. “I won’t then.”

Kakashi returned to his peeling, with Satoru inching ever closer to him, still gnawing on his treat. He felt the younger pressed at his side, his head against his shoulder, and Kakashi looked down at him in amusement, smiling gently at the surprisingly affectionate action. “Why do you like me, Satoru?”

The other snuggled even closer, grasping the sleeve of Kakashi’s yukata. “Because nii-san doesn’t feel and act like the others.” He muttered quite soberly for his age. “And nii-san is kind as well.”

“Because I keep offering you food?” Kakashi laughed in mirth at this revelation, which escalated when he felt Satoru harrumphed in embarrassment, hiding his reddened face into the nook of Kakashi’s elbow. He was just too adorable.

Satoru murmured something that Kakashi cannot quite hear beneath his chuckles.

“What was that Satoru?”

“I demand head pats as compensation for this humiliation.” Satoru turned to gaze up at Kakashi with a pout, still partly hiding in a crease of the clothing. “And more snacks. Or else I won't forgive nii-san for laughing at me.”

“Yes, yes.” Kakashi could not resist fondling those white locks once more. What a demanding little brother he has. Dangerous, yes, but cute.

-x-

“Nii-nii, am I adorable?”

‘Nii-nii?’ Kakashi blinked at Satoru, who was staring up at him with those cerulean blues again. He has come running up to the other with widespread arms before engulfing him in a bearhug. Due to his height, he was currently tightly wrapped around Kakashi’s torso, his cloudy hair contrasting with the navy fabric of Kakashi’s yukata.

“Yes, you are, Satoru.” Deciding not to question the new suffix, the former Hatake answered, and Satoru giggled in delight, smiling widely like he had just won the lottery. Strange.

“Does Nii-nii love me because I’m adorable?” He asked again, rubbing his cheek against Kakashi’s abdomen, much like a feline seeking its owner’s attention. He seemed to like it really much when the older one gave him the time of the day, and any physical contact he demanded from Kakashi would be gleefully received. Kakashi wondered if Satoru acted this affectionate with the other family members or was it just him.

“I love you for a lot of reasons, Satoru, and you being cute is really just a bonus.” Love was maybe too strong of a word to use for someone Kakashi essentially has just met, but despite popular belief, the former Hatake does have some degree of social tact, and telling an 8-year-old child (especially since it was his sibling) otherwise might lead to some very uncomfortable crying --or in this particular case, being blasted off from the face of the planet. Besides, Satoru was marginally more tolerable than any other children Kakashi has met --clingy, yes, but more often than not he just likes to quietly observe whatever it was at the time Kakashi happened to be doing, so technically Kakashi likes him enough. 

“Really?” Satoru beamed.

“Really.”

“Then you won’t mind if I call you Nii-nii for now on?”

“I won’t, though I am curious why you would want to.” Because it was so child-like and innocent, and while Satoru is still a kid, he did not often give off the impression of one, often instead to glower down he deemed was beneath him. Again, he wondered why Satoru likes him so much. He was not exactly the most lovable person on the planet.

“Because it makes me even more adorable!” Satoru stated quite chirpily. “And me being more adorable makes Nii-nii love me even more, right?!”

“…Right.” Kami-sama, help him.

-x-

Undoubtedly, the bad days come.

Kakashi coughed, the sound wet and heavy in his throat. He rolled his eyes tiredly as he stared up the now-familiar ceiling, counting the dots of the plaster.

“I will leave a kettle of water by your side, Kakashi-sama.” There was a clang of glass as a tray was pulled into his range of view. Homura’s hazel haircut bobbed alongside her head as she bowed beside his laid futon. “

“Thank…you…”

“I will take my leave now, Kakashi-sama.”

“W-wait, Homura-san…” Kakashi managed to stop her just as she slipped on her zori sandals.

“Yes, Kakashi-sama? What is it?”

“…Satoru…” The Gojo paused a moment to release a hacking cough. “Please tell him…not to…come by…today…”

Homura seemed surprised at his request. “Would you not like his company while you rest?”

“…He has…enough on his…plate.” Kakashi laid his head back onto his pillow to stare at the ceiling once more. “…I need not him to…worry…about…me…”

“…You really are different from the others, Kakashi-sama.” Homura stated gently. “Rest assured, I will tell him, but you know as well as I do that, I cannot control Satoru-sama’s actions if he decides on something.”

Kakashi could not help but gave a tiny snicker at the statement. He offered an acknowledged nod, and Homura bid farewell once more before going off to serve the other clansmen. His gaze fell back to the ceiling panels once more, except now the tiles were beginning to be tainted with growing puddles of blood, until they were dripping from above like stalactites.

Kakashi took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Meditation may do nothing to ease the heavy feeling of regrets and pain so powerful that they were physically manifesting, but it was better to be unconscious and unaware rather than suffering through everything awake. Focusing on the rhythm of his breath and his slowing heartbeats, he managed to ignore the feelings of flaking fingertips poking at his eyelids, each inhales and exhale welcoming him into the abyss.

Darkness greeted him like an old friend.

He was basked in the inevitable blackness for nary a second more before it melted away like hot glue, the inky liquid lapping at his ankles like a tidal wave. The sky opened up before him, brushing strokes of a wildfire along its seams like a parody of an antique painting.

Ahead of him, lies a vast blooming field of honeysuckles and lilacs. It surrounded him for miles around, trapping him, encasing him.

Rin was there, giving him a gentle smile. Then, suddenly, she cocked her head, as if listening to a silent melody that Kakashi cannot hear. She gave him another honeyed grin, before taking off into the field, leaving sprays of petals in her wake. Kakashi did not follow.

“Nii-nii?” Small fingers touched his cheeks, cold as ice.

The ground beneath his feet burst into flames, melting off the skin. Rin continued prancing along the burning whirlwind, even as her stockings and skirt combusted into cinders. From the inferno, larvae spew from its hearth, their tails made from human ribs. They trailed behind the girl, afflicted by her joy.

“…You’re shivering.”

Kakashi let out a rattling gasp. Rin laughed as she danced along with the now-grown tadpoles, the sound both demonic and innocent. Traces of Lily petals were scrunched between the empty gaps of her teeth, stained with blood. She did a twirl, and Kakashi could see the spray of gore that flew from the hole in her chest.

“…Nii-nii…” There was a muffling shuffle, and something warm pressed against his side. Somehow, the moment it touched him; everything became duller, muted. It quieted the thunderous essence within, and the shrilling of Rin’s melodious laugher decreased, not quite as deafening. Even the flames were not as hot as before. The colours faded, turning the world a bleak grey.

In the distance, beyond the field of wilting flowers, with their back towards him, stood a familiar figure.

His heart leapt to his throat. Kakashi reached out, the weight of the world on his shoulders as he tried to call out to the person he has wanted to see the most.

“O--!”

Kakashi woke up with the image of red skies and shrivelling blossoms embedded in his retinas, the echoes of windchime still ringing in his ears. He felt cold sweat dripping onto his brows, and as he moved to wipe it off, he found something was restraining his right arm, something that was quite warm and soft. He glanced sideways and spotted Satoru curled up at his side, face tucked rather contently under his forearm. Taken aback, he unintentionally jolted, making Satoru whined at the motion, but as soon as Kakashi stilled, the latter calmed down and drifted back to sleep.

It was late evening; streams of orange hue filtered from beyond the panel of the windows, the calling of dusk beckoning the birds to return to their nests. How long has Satoru been here with him? Whatever the case, the kid should be back in his main room by now, lest his caretakers look for him.

But, looking at his serene, innocent countenance, Kakashi found it difficult to rouse the other.

How long has he has left before this childish innocent was lost forever? Kakashi wondered, curling around Satoru, marvelling at the length of his eyelashes and the chubbiness of his cheeks. Or was it even there in the first place? Perhaps due to his nightmare, a swell of emotions surged up in him, as he stared at the serene countenance with glistening eyes. 

‘Please,’ Kakashi thought desperately, a hiccup unbiddenly escaping from his trembling lips as he ran his fingers through soft locks, ‘If there is a god up there…’

A dying gasp by a girl who loved her eventual executioner. A bloody grin that stretched beyond the skin that has been torn by the earth. A boy who ended up with more ghosts than the living.

‘…Please don’t let this child turn out like me.’

-x-

(Now that he thought about it, maybe the reason his body lasted this long was because of Satoru.)

-x-

Satoru came by every single day now.

It was really beginning to affect his snacks storage because well damn, does the little tyke loves mooching on his food while plastering himself at Kakashi’s side like a leech. A leech with unfairly very beautiful eyes, Kakashi grumbled to himself as he pushed a bowl of dried persimmons into the kid’s hands, ignoring the warmth resonating in his heart when the little terror gave him a wide toothy smile.

At least Kakashi was old enough to use the stove now, and after promising Homura that he would be careful, the other finally relented and promised to bring by cooking essentials and a couple of cookbooks that he could try out. It was not that he did not like his caretaker’s cooking; after living alone for so long in his previous life, he found it more comfortable and easier to eat the dishes made by his own hands.

God, he missed fishing.

He knew that he was a bit rusty, so he opted to try out some of the simpler meals in the meantime. Of course, he has a willing guinea pig to test out his recreations, and he can tell Satoru was enjoying it (Otherwise, Kakashi knew that he would be complaining about it until the end of time). Cooking was something he himself has always enjoyed; despite that it may seem to be a frivolous activity by shinobi standards. At first, he has cooked out of need, but as he grew older Kakashi found that it was a really great way to distract him, especially after the horrors of a mission.

Now, it just diverted his attention from the manifestation of his dreams, blurring the lines between reality and his mind.

“Thank you for the meal~~” Grinning, Satoru placed his chopsticks down neatly and clasped his hands in gratitude.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow at the other, before staring pointedly at the untouched greens on the otherwise clean plate. “Uh-huh. Satoru.” The older called, when the other was sneakily trying to run away. “You haven’t finished your vegetables.”

“But nii-nii~~~~”

“No buts,” Kakashi said firmly, and gently herded the other back to the table. The brat tried to give him those puppy-dogs eyes again, which was, extremely effective the first few times he had used it, but now that the older has built an immunity towards him, Satoru’s end was nigh.

The other glared at the remaining broccolis as if they were his lifelong enemies, his Six Eyes a cold cerulean as he judged the best way to deal with them. He brought up animated fingers, staring hard, willing them to disappear. Kakashi initially thought that Satoru was just being his dramatic self, but then realised that the younger was actually gathering energy in his palm.  

“Wait, are you—“

A blinding flash, and a blast of wind.

In a matter of a second, Satoru disintegrated not only the vegetables, but also the plate, the cutlery, along with the table.

“…” The two stared at the now empty spot, marked with cinders.

“…phft,” Satoru’s blue eyes were wide in terror when Kakashi snorted, thinking that the other would be supremely disapproval and vexed at the disappearance of his furniture. But then it turned into strings of pearly laughter, so free and pure, that showcased the childish nature that still existed within Kakashi. A hearty, soulful giggle, that Kakashi himself has only once or twice in his two lives, bringing warmth to his stomach and tears to his eyes. Witnessing the genuine joy radiating from his brother, Satoru could not help but join in as well, the two’s lively merriment echoing through the compound.

The two got a scolding from Homura later, earning them quite the knockers, but as soon as her back was turned, the two brothers shared a mischievous, knowing grin.

Kakashi has never considered the possibility of having a younger sibling before this, but now that Satoru was here, he could not imagine his life otherwise.

Except he knew that the clan was not exactly in approval of his relationship with Satoru, especially with how close the other was being with him. At first, they had let it be, thinking nothing would come out of it, but now that the wielder of the Six Eyes was practically glued to Kakashi’s side, it seems that they have enough.

Kakashi absolutely loathed clan politics.

“Kakashi-sama!”

“Homura-san? What’s wrong?” Alarmed by the fear and urgency in the usually mild woman’s voice, Kakashi got to his feet. The cup of hot tea he was just holding was almost knocked down due to his haste, but he paid it no mind. He hurried over to the panting woman, who stood before the veranda still clad in her sandals.

“I-It’s Satoru-sama!” Kakashi’s stomach dropped at the revelation. Had something bad has happened? “We need you right away!”

His frantic caretaker led him through corners that he took note of during his escapade, but never went through; shortcuts used by the servants. In no time flat, they had approached the grandiose stone pathway that led to the main building. It was here that Kakashi smelled smoke. One of the nearby building was reduced to mere rubbles, smouldering embers still licking at the paper doors.

Numerous clansmen milled around the two stars of the show, expressions of utter terror terrorising their visages, but otherwise too paralysed to even utter a word or run away.

“You can’t take Nii-san away from me!” Satoru snarled, and he sounded like a feral animal that has been backed into a corner.

“I’ll kill every last one of you if you do!”

“Satoru!” Kakashi said sharply, and at the sound of his voice, the younger froze, before turning around. His eyes were wide and wild, the Six Eyes the embodiment of an icy, malevolent storm, pulsating with power. His small figure was as taut and tight as a loaded cannon, ready to be sprung at any given motion.

Around them, the atmosphere was laced with the intent to hurt, to kill. So much in reminiscence of tension right before an ensuing battle and so potent that his own energy has reached out defensively, threatened by the overbearing anger.

Between the two only cursed energy bearers in the area, gravity seemed to increase ten-fold. The world held its breath.

“Nii-san…” The kid gasped at him, unexpectedly meek. He shifted from one foot to the other, unsure of his course of actions now that his older brother was here. “They said…they were—“He started defensively, but remembered the reason of his vexation, for he turned back to the person crawling behind him, face tight.

“They were going to take you away,” Satoru stated, and the older sibling could only grit his teeth at the energy spike. “Away from here. Away from me. “

In all honesty, he was not surprised that the clan was planning to do so; they figured the only to make Satoru stopped seeing him was to move Kakashi elsewhere, or, God forbid, marry him off in a political relationship with another clan (if they were kind enough to contemplate not killing him off, of course). Satoru must have found out somehow, hence his wrath.

Kakashi moved forward to prevent Satoru from doing anything that he may regret, but it appeared that his body thought otherwise. For he only managed a step before his energy burned up and curled into itself, punching Kakashi’s gut so sharply that he crumpled down to a knee. Perhaps hearing his sibling in distress, Satoru turned around again, eyes large.

“P-please…calm down…” Kakashi gulped for breath before another coughing fit started once more. Liquid and bile filled the back of his throat.

“W-wait, Satoru-sama,” a clan member, a brave albeit stupid man spoke up from the crowd. “Surely you can understand that what we’re doing is for your own good. Mingling about with a faulty product like him,” He regarded Kakashi with a tilt of his head, “would only discourage you from reaching your full potenti—“

“Shut up, you vermin.”

The man whimpered as Satoru’s killing intent rose again. His fingers flexed dangerously, the barest flicker of cursed input trailing in its purest form. Even as distracted as he was, Kakashi’s war instincts flared; he really was about to unleash a technique on the man, and who knows if he stopped at only one? With his high state of emotions, he could very well go on a rampage. Whimpers and squeals of fear resounded all around through the rush of blood in his ears, and Kakashi knew that he has to stop this somehow.

Mirages of a silent, blood-stained clan compound with only the moonlight shining upon the strewn corpses propelled him forward. (He can't let that sort of tragedy to happen ever again). 

“…Satoru.”

The child tensed as Kakashi wrapped the other in a shaky hug from behind.

“Please…stop.”

“…”

The palpitating energy that came to life in the other’s small palm gradually died. Kakashi breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived as fluid congested his once more, making him crumple to the floor in a wheezing heap. God, Kakashi hated this body very much.

“…Let’s get you back to bed…Nii-nii.” Satoru gripped his shoulder, giving a commanding nod to Homura, who fearfully supported Kakashi’s arm as she coaxed him up. Kakashi really did not want to show such weakness in front of the other family members, but the weariness in his limbs made it difficult for him to protest. It would be faster and better for everyone’s sake if he just swallowed his pride and accepted the aid. So, ignoring the condescending glares by the others who were in turn, kept at bay by Satoru’s own, more powerful one, Kakashi tried to not lean his weight too much on his caretaker, while his brother went to grasp his right sleeve in encouragement. Homura was surprisingly strong for someone of her thin stature, or was it because Kakashi really was not that heavy?

“You had already separated us once before.” Satoru’s tone was pure asinine when he addressed the ongoing lookers once more, who froze at the sight and feeling of the Six Eyes bearing down upon them. It gripped them better than any physical one could.

“I won’t let you do it again.”

-x-

“What do you have there, Satoru?”

“Ah, nii-nii!”

“Are those sweets?”

“N-not at all.” Satoru looked uncharacteristically flustered. His eyes shifted around.

“Do you like sweets, Satoru?”

“…I…n-no. Of course not.” The other let out a nervous chuckle.

“…” Kakashi gave him a disbelieving look, before pulling out a used hard-candy wrapper from his sleeve. On it was written, ‘Winter melon flavoured in bright, wriggly fonts.

In a flash, the wrapper was snatched by nimble hands, then with a sizzle, turned into ash.

The two stared at each other.

“It’s okay to have a sweet tooth, you know.” Kakashi cajoled.

“I!” Satoru harrumphed, his face red. “Absolutely! Do! Not!” He stomped his little feet with each insinuation.

Why was he so adamant on denying it as if his very life depended on it?

Kakashi pulled out another wrapper, this time for a grape-flavoured one.

Satoru flushed, but did not commit wrapper murder.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Because nii-nii doesn’t like sweets!” Satoru wailed like a dying cat.  

Kakashi failed to see the correlation. “Yes…? And what does me not liking them have anything to do with you denying that you have a sweet tooth?”

Satoru mumbled something about “nii-nii” and “cool”.

The other was so adorable when he is flustered and not running his motor mouth. Kakashi patted the other’s head while his brother pouted and huffed like a pufferfish.

Well, now he has to add desserts to his cooking list.

-x-

Summers and Winters went by just as fast as before, but now with Satoru by his side, Kakashi found himself enjoying his halcyon days much more than he would of have by himself.

Satoru was a bright, if not a little bit rambunctious kid. He picked things up quite easily, and his cursed energy was potent and heavy, exerting pressure and command even without him showing it off. The techniques that were passed down from the clan – or what Satoru was allowed to show him without resulting in mass collateral damage anyway - were undoubtedly, overpowered, and aimed to kill. And combined with Infinity, which Satoru happily demonstrated how fucking ridiculous it was when Kakashi threw a banana at him when the other was being too persistent when he was trying to cook, Satoru was basically untouchable. The kid has laughed impudently at his expression after the fruit was stopped inches from his nose.

It did not stop him from bonking the other on the forehead later though.

He doubted he could teach Satoru anything more than what the clan has, but the kid took an interest in what he was doing with his training kata, claiming that he has never seen such a routine before with the others. That, in itself, was both expected and saddening; it showed that throughout the decades, centuries even, the art of the Shinobi was lost throughout the flow of time. He decided to ignore the fact that he might as well be the last remnant of his era lest it would send him into a panic attack.

He did not have any kunais or shurikens and doubted he could find any without going personally to a weaponsmith. Still, he was aching for more movement, so, rather reluctantly, he asked Satoru whether the clan has some unused training weapons that he can use. Eyes sparkling at the prospect of being able to help his older brother, Satoru ran off much like an overzealous puppy, before coming back with an armful of tools that definitely were not made for training purposes. He tried to admonish Satoru for no doubt, bullying the clan members again, but at the other’s expectant eyes, relented for a praising head pat.

There was quite the assortment in Satoru’s haul, and fortunately, Kakashi was quite diverse in most of them, thanks to his long career as an elite shinobi and Gai’s insistent challenges (He could not help the pang in his heart at the thought of his long-time friend, he hoped the other lived a long and fulfilling life with his team after Kakashi’s demise in the war).

There were a lance and a peculiar-looking sword which blade was too wide to be classified as a katana or even a taichi, so he swept over them for the more familiar ones; a naginata, a pair of nunchucks, a set of tekko as well as a very recognizable blade. Something compelled him to pick up the nunchucks first (might be Gai’s spirit egging him from the beyond), and so he did.

He swung gently at first, before picking up speed. Soon, he was twirling and turning in dramatical spins, the momentum building up with the force. He struck a tree branch with the end of a handle, and it fell, broken neatly in half despite its girth.

He disregarded the star-struck wonder in Satoru’s eyes as he put down the nunchucks, before picking up a rather ragged tanto. The owner has neglected the maintenance of his weapon, it appears. Still, despite its shabby appearance, the weight felt right in his hand, so he started his tantojutsu kata. It was a comfortable routine, one that has developed since he was a mere toddler. As he got into position, gripping the helm with sure fingers, memories of the White Fang’s words began to resonate through his mind.

“Imagine yourself an unarmed opponent,’ the kind but stern man has said, his usual frazzled nature gone. All that remained was a warrior, instructing his inexperienced pup. ‘Look at his stance, the deposition of his weight. Which side he favours.”

The wolf-pup in training narrowed his eyes as his envisioned foe took shape, the figure taking on an attacking stance.

“Is he aimed to disarm you? Or is he merely on the defensive, trying to get away from the blade?”

A jab. A thrust. His adversary tried to grab his wrist to disengage but was parried away.  

“Take note of your surroundings. You have an advantage in tight spaces.”

They were in a field, but Kakashi could easily manoeuvre around the foe with his size and speed.

“Conserve your energy. No matter how short your blade is, your enemy’s reach is shorter.”

His blade was an extension of his will. It protects, and it harms. Kakashi slashed through his opponent’s guard, drawing a thin slit of blood with the hilt.

“Wait for a mistake…”

The enemy grew more and more desperate as his movements slowed down.

“…And strike.”

And finally, an opening. The foe has carried his form a bit too far to regain his balance, and he staggered, too late to withdraw. With his blunder, Kakashi ducked forward, and the blade slid cleanly into the flesh of his ribcage.

And with that, the battle was over.

“Nii-nii!” Satoru’s squeal brought him back to reality, and the image of an invisible opponent fade away. He relaxed his stance, flicking away the invisible blood on the weapon. “That was so awesome!”

“Thank you, Satoru.” He told the other. “Now, please help me give these back.”

He might have enjoyed his crestfallen expression a bit too much.

The only setback that Kakashi has right now was his cursed energy. He could do well with managing a little bit of outputs, but the moments he went over a certain threshold, his nerves flared, and muscles seized up, the familiar feeling of having his insides turned and thrashed as if he has swallowed a large catfish lasting for hours on hand. He was accustomed to vomiting blood and bile soon after his body has finished protesting, and he thanked his hindsight to at least commit his experiments when Satoru was not around.

As per Satoru’s request, the two started training with each other, mostly after the younger was done with his own private ones at the hands of the clan’s mentors.

His taijutsu could use a little bit of work though, and as Kakashi waggled the little tyke to the ground, the other whining about not being allowed to utilise cursed energy during sparring, the older kindly commended him, before hinting at the various weaknesses and opening the other had in his stance. Usually, he would be fine because of Infinity, but he would have to turn it off sometimes, which led to the purpose of them focusing on hand-to-hand combat.

Of course, from what he has seen or heard, if Satoru were to be able to fully master the clan’s techniques and their efficiency, he would, in theory, would never run out of energy. And he could, technically, blast away his opponents to smithereens way before they could look at him. But it never hurts to be prepared for anything; cursed beings and humans were both crafty and unpredictable in nature, and he told Satoru this much, to which, surprisingly, Satoru seemed to listen to him.

 But besides his no-doubt secured future as a prominent sorcerer in the Jujutsu world, Kakashi loves Satoru more as his own individual person. Satoru, was at first, reminded him so much of himself when he was younger that Kakashi was immediately fearful for him. He was brash and rude, and often looked down at those he deemed was beneath him with scornful eyes. Initially, he was even snappy at Homura, which Kakashi has quickly shut it down. It was one of the few instances that he has ever gotten tough with Satoru, and Kakashi made it very clear that he did not approve of his habits of looking down on the weak, no matter how true the differences may be.

“Everyone and everything has their parts in life.” Kakashi reprimanded. “Some that can’t be helped, or unfortunate enough. Still, they can grow, Satoru, so please be thoughtful, especially to the undeserving of such treatment.”

“Only those who deserve it, got it,” Satoru concluded, to which Kakashi groaned, but let it slide.

Satoru was as annoyingly talkative as he was calculative. Which, at face value, may seem inconsequential, but only a fool would tell you that.

Once, he started bringing his cartoon comics over – “They’re called “Manga”, Nii-nii!” to Kakashi’s place, and that started a conversation about different realms and realities, the possibilities that could have existed beyond the normal scope, pure fiction brought to life. He started going on about one of his favourites, “Di-gi-mon?” and terms that Kakashi has never heard before.

Kakashi could barely understand what Satoru was explaining about but understood cues enough to nod and smile at certain phases.

“That sounds really interesting. Do you think that dark digivolution would affect the others as well?” Kakashi said, secretly proud of himself for rehearsing the pronunciation in his mind, and Satoru stared at him like he was one of the wonders of the world.

Another aspect that Kakashi would like to point out, was that Satoru was extremely handsy and affectionate.

The other preferred holding on to his waist when Kakashi was going about his daily routines, and it graduated to Kakashi offering to carry him on his back after training sessions just so he would be able to take a bath alone without the other intruding. He has relented before during their younger days, but now with the both of them reaching mid-teens, Kakashi really does not want to deal with the destructive capabilities that were teenage hormones.

“Have some shame, will you?!” Kakashi gave an unmanly yelp as Satoru attempted to squeeze through the bathroom door, waggling his eyebrows brazenly.

Satoru was catching up on him, and as he watched the other’s cloudy hair bobbled along as he helped Kakashi in the kitchen, he found himself almost eye-level with the other. And the monster has not even finished growing yet. Kakashi mourned the day that his younger brother would be taller than him.

Time flew by too fast, and soon, Satoru left, having to study at Jujutsu Tech, or the 'Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College' in full, one of only two jujutsu educational institutions in Japan dedicated to fostering the next generation of jujutsu sorcerers.

After putting up with Satoru’s antics for so long, the quietness that returned was almost deafening.

Of course, he knew that inevitably, Satoru too would leave him behind. It was ludicrous to think otherwise; Satoru was made for greater things, have to play roles that Kakashi himself could not fathom the burden of.

Homura kept him company whenever she could, but she knew that the other missed Satoru’s flamboyant presence too much than he cared to admit.

“I’m pathetic, aren’t I? Homura-san.”

The other gave a furious chop to his head at the statement, the movement rather elegant for such brutality. “I do not think it is pathetic at all to miss a beloved sibling, especially the younger ones. If anything, I think I am glad that Satoru-sama has someone to think of him all the time.”

“Homura-san is so wise.” Kakashi teased, and the older woman blushed, but quickly recollected herself to give a quick pinch to the Gojo’s cheek. Which hurts, mind you.

He knew that Satoru was powerful, stronger than Kakashi could ever hope to be, but it did not stop him from worrying about the well-being of his brother. The other can be quite reckless at times, and he has a habit of underestimating everything that was going on around him, as well as the capabilities of others, but those were things that Satoru has to learn himself through battles and experiences, ones that Kakashi hope would be learned not too cruelly.

The first time Satoru came back to visit him, he was parading around a pair of sunglasses, looking quite thrilled with himself.

“Those look good on you,” Kakashi commented breezily, to which Satoru gave a wide beam.

“They do, don’t they?” Satoru then gave a couple of exaggerated poses at him, flickering various expressions that utilize well with the shades. He looked so ridiculous that Kakashi could not help but laugh.

Satoru grinned.

Over the following period, his younger brother has come back way too frequently than what Kakashi has initially expected, that he suspected he was cutting classes. He would not be too surprised if that was the case; Satoru can easily become bored if something does not stick to his interests enough.

“Don’t you miss me, nii-nii?” Satoru pouted when Kakashi questioned him about this, battling his eyelashes.

“I do,” Kakashi admitted, and he ignored the way Satoru perked up at that, a pleased grin plastered on his ruddy face. “But not at the expense of you skipping school, no.”

“I’m not!” Satoru protested, wrapping his long lanky limbs around Kakashi. “I finished my mission early, so I got some downtime, you know?!”

“I miss you, nii-nii…” The words were whispered directly near his ears.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Kakashi stammered, pushing the other off. As Satoru whined, the older turned away, touching his cheeks. His face felt unbearably hot; he knew that he must have greatly resembled a tomato right now.

“Hush now,” Kakashi told Satoru, who sulked at his mistreatment. “Or I won’t give you any of the dangos that I’ve just made.”

That shut the other up.

Satoru seemed so much happier living outside where the clan can barely touch him; he told him of the missions he went on, how he found some of the classes were boring, but Yaga-sensei would pummel him on the head if he ever so much complained. He mentioned his classmates who were in the same year as him, a girl who possessed a rare talent with her reversed technique, and a boy, who he butted heads often, but was strong enough to tackle anything Satoru threw at him. The younger complained that the two were often mean to him, and how they were weirdos and Shoko kept wanting to dissect him for science whilst Suguru do not have enough fashion senses to save his life (“Those pants are hideous, Nii-nii!”). Still, his tone was fond, so Kakashi knew that the other secretly cherished his few friends. People who saw Satoru as Satoru himself, and not just as the wielder of the Six Eyes.

Kakashi was glad.

When the other prompted him to tell him about his daily life, Kakashi merely said, “Nothing particular changes. I train, I garden, I read, and I cook. As usual.”

He did not mention that he has just coughed out an obscenely amount of blood the other night, or the fact that on the worst of days, he burnt his arms and hands from the lightning that has shot from his own form. He managed such wounds himself, not wanting to worry Homura-san, for fear of her concerns that she in turn, would tell Satoru, and Satoru really needed to not be distracted by him.  

Satoru has pestered him for a doctor a long time ago, but since his condition was abnormal both in the civilian and Jujutsu community, there was nary a thing that could be done. Regular medicine could only help so much, but they did ease the pain and nausea a bit. If it’s one thing he really missed from the shinobi time, was the existent of blood-replenishing pills; he loathed the dizziness that came far too frequently.

Rin often reached out to him in his dreams, a small palm beckoning him to take her hand. Kakashi knew, however, that the moment he does so, his life would come to an end.

Why wouldn’t you? A small part of him asked. Is there anything more you can do in this life?

Satoru, the other half answered, and it really was a narcissistic, and selfish response, because what can he do, in his failing condition, with death being so near, to help Satoru, who was well beyond his reaches and striving so brilliantly even without his presence?  

Nothing.

I…just want to continue seeing him happy. Kakashi thought, palming the small, wooden figure of the dog that Satoru has got him from Kyoto. Beads of blood dribbled down his nose and lips, some of it dripping onto the front of his yukata. He felt cold, even under the thickness of his blanket. Buds sneaked through the floorboards, blooming spider lilies flashing a beautiful shade of scarlet upon the moonlight.

The shadows babbled endlessly, muttering of his failures.

They were especially noisy as Kakashi sat in his kitchen, bleary eyes staring through the pages of his cookbook. Small, beady tadpoles grinned at him with sharp razor teeth, leaving trails of red slime upon the pages as they sang, “He’s dead, he’s dead, failure, failure...” repeatedly.

“He’s not.” Kakashi muttered, flicking one of the annoying amphibians off the paper. Homura-san herself told Kakashi what has transpired during Satoru’s important assignment, how Satoru has managed to kill off one of the Zen’in most prominent members and mastered the clan’s highly prized technique, despite ultimately failing the mission.

He’s not dead, he’s not dead… He kept repeating to himself, even as the smarmy epidermis of the tadpoles’ heads cracked open to reveal gazing purple and red jewels.

Kakashi looked up when he heard the door opened, thinking that it might be his worried caretaker checking up on him again. He jumped up, however, when he saw that it was Satoru instead, who was missing his enigmatic air and the usual smile on his face. The Six Eyes stared piercingly at him behind strewn lashes, judging his worth.

Still, his heart leaped to his throat, because his younger brother was here, and he was alive. “Satoru…” He breathed, pulling the other into a hug.

The shadows finally relented in their whispers, letting the two have their silence.

When Satoru was renamed as Head of Clan, Kakashi was ready to let go, his body nearly reaching its limit as well. Surely someone of his position and status will be better off having his business rather than with him, especially as someone who was not a Jujutsu sorcerer. His younger brother was not a kid anymore, he cannot keep running from the world and his responsibilities. Still, Satoru has…

“Let me save you, Kakashi-nii.” Satoru begged.

The younger was still thinking of him. Was still expecting him to be in his future.

‘When does the great Gojo Satoru-sama has ever begged for anything?’ danced at the tip of his tongue, but Satoru has looked so desperate, so concern, so unlike himself that Kakashi could only be silent and accepted him.

‘People don’t help those who run away and do nothing. As long as you don’t give up, there will always be salvation.’

His own words echoed in his heart as he took Satoru’s hand. They said their goodbyes to Homura, who looked tearful at their departure, but she also seemed…happy. Delighted. For the two brothers. That the two could finally walk together after so long.

-x-

Kakashi awoke to a white ceiling, and the feeling that he has not felt for a long while now; the feeling of having to breathe freely, his lungs unobstructed and nothing squeezing his insides.

His eyes were fucking burning though.

His younger brother sat on a plastic chair next to the bed, legs spread wide and back bent as he propped his chin with a palm, face solemn. His uniform was covered in specks of dust and rubble, coating its dark glossiness with a chalky appearance.

“…Sa…toru…?”

At his name, the other lifted his gaze, chin still in hand. He grinned, albeit a bit subdued. “Yo, nii-san.” He greeted with a gravelly voice, with made Kakashi instantly worried. “How are you feeling?”

“…What…urgh, happened?” Kakashi gave a groan, trying to sit up with trembling limbs and phantom pains aching his nerves. His head felt like it has been bashed in with a hammer, and Kakashi could not, for the life of him, exactly remember what had aspired to land him in the infirmary again.

There were flashes of secluded memories; hazy touches and words of a man who was long gone.

But surely, they were mere dreams?

“Some stuff.” Satoru leaned back in his chair, crossing his long legs. Judging by the other’s body language, Kakashi expected there was much more than ‘some stuff.’

“Satoru.”

The younger threw his hands up in defeat. “A cursed spirit has attached itself to you.” Satoru bit out, obviously disgruntled at this fact. “A high-leveled one, at that. Now, the ol’, powerful and dashing Gojo Satoru-sama would have exorcised it within a blink of an eye, but since it has melded itself into your energy coils, so amazingly seamless and perfectly at that, destroying it would mean destroying you as well. How does a curse become so compatible with a human; you ask? Beats me. Not without the human being an active willing recipient or being chained together under a binding vow. Even that is highly improbable because your body would be rotting from the inside out from the sheer pressure alone. But you’re not; hell, you’re even healthier than ever! Frankly,” Satoru finally paused in his rant, taking a deep breath. He ran frustrated hands through his disheveled locks. “There’s shit going on that you’re not telling me.”

Kakashi was so gobsmacked that he could only look down at his quivering hands in silence. His eyes itched and burned, and the former Hatake could only marvel at the familiar sensation after so long of being part.

The usual feeling of a chakra exhausted Sharingan grabbing at his nerves.  

“Kakashi-nii.” Satoru’s voice was low but hardened. He could feel the smoldering glow of the Six Eyes burning holes on his skull, trying to pry the secrets inside, ones that Kakashi was reluctant to share. “Please tell me.” At the older’s insistent stillness, Satoru finally pleaded, and under the pressure, Kakashi cracked. Satoru should never have to beg at trash like Kakashi for anything.

So, he told Satoru everything. From the beginning until the end of the life that once belonged to Hatake Kakashi. Until the war that devastated his everything.

He was amazed at how easy it was to recall the events from his previous life, the words came spilling from his lips unhindered, but he supposed, that it should be easy after all, to talk about a life you once had, after you realised that there was literally nothing you can do to go back to it. Now, it was merely like reciting from a history page, or a fairy-tale, that never came to be; a forgotten story that only he, Kakashi, has access to. Somewhere along with his recollection, the sky has darkened outside, with the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the windowsill.

Some of the incidents were obviously still difficult to talk about, such as six-year-old him stumbling upon the blood-soaked corpse of his father, his body still warm and pliant. During Obito’s first death, his nose cartilage has been shredded, crushed by the boulder that he has saved Kakashi from. How Rin was so close to him in her dying moments that he has felt the last few whispers of her breath hitting his cheek, fragments of her cardiac muscles still wedged beneath his fingertips. Just how he felt Obito’s own heart trembling beneath those very same fingers. He shook so badly in telling these events that Satoru, who has been stoically composed the whole time reached out to grab his hand in reassurance. Whoever made that saying that time heals all wounds should go to hell. Because he could never fail to remember any of these moments.

Or that Obito and he were fated to never be on the same side, despite how many changes the both of them suffered through.

And the conclusion of the war, how Kakashi has met his end, wracked with grief and regrets. And pain, most of all, the most convoluted mess of mental anguish that still plagued his mind to this day.

“He was my hero,” Kakashi whispered, and even Satoru could not hide the hitch of his breath at the pure longing and devotion dripping from the other’s voice. “I might even…”

Love him, hanged between them unspoken, but clear as day.

A howl of the wind ripped through, causing the ceiling to creak.

“…How pathetic.” Satoru could not help the words. Kakashi thought they were directed at him, which was what he expected (and deserved), but then Satoru added, “The guy was an idiot, for not even acknowledging your feelings to him.”

“You don’t understand, Satoru!” Kakashi sobbed, to which the other was taken aback by the outburst. “I don’t deserve anything that he has to offer, his forgiveness, his thoughts, or even his attention.”

“I am nothing more than the lowest of trash.” The sentence was murmured. “I did not deserve this life, deserve a second chance, to outlive those who were destroyed by me.”

I do not deserve to be your brother.

“…. Do you remember when I told you that your energy was weird?” Satoru smiled a little bit coyly, tired cerulean taking in the tight hunch of his brother’s shoulders, and the trembles of his hands. “I couldn’t quite understand why is it that it was…but now, I know.”

Kakashi slowly lifted his gaze to meet his brother’s glistening orbs.

“…It’s made up from both of you. Two pieces of broken halves, from once was his and once of yours."

“He trusted his pieces to you…nii-san.”

‘Ï’m sorry…Kakashi.’ Obito wheezed, trembling fingertips leaving trails of blood as he caressed the corners of Kakashi’s eyes with tentative, careful fingers. His eyes were… sorrowful, missing all of their broken anger, like a puppet that has been cut off from its strings. “I just wanted…for us…”

‘Please don’t leave me,’ Kakashi wanted to say, but the words were stuck in his throat, because when has he ever be not a coward to his sentiments?

The earth beneath them trembled, as the madman who was supposed to be long dead continued to slaughter the present; the man who has ruined them.

“Don’t follow after me,” Obito stated finally, when part of his arm and cheek has crumbled into dust. His treacherous scarlet eyes were squeezed shut, an expression of pure agony marring his scarred features. Still, he must have reached a decision, for then they snapped open, chakra flaring wildly as his Mangenkyo stared deeply into the Hatake’s stormy orbs.

“Please… continue to see the future for me.”

The older sibling’s eyes widened, misting over.

“…Why did he…why… after all I did-!” Kakashi choked out, glimmers of memories stretching in front of his frenzied eyes. Of broken smiles and empty promises. Of countless nights washing the blood of the undeserved. The multitude of words pouring onto the cold, silent slab of stone, never responded to nor acknowledged by.

“This is just my speculation…but,” Satoru got up and began to straighten up his clothes, flicking off a few pebbles off his shoulders. His face was neutrally blank as he continued, “Maybe your feelings weren’t one-sided at all. Maybe the actions that he took…the regrets that he felt…. the feelings that he left behind; those were enough to intertwine you two together even after your deaths…”

“Love is, after all, perhaps the most powerful curse of all.”

The seconds bled by slowly as Satoru observed the myriad of emotions blurring together in those stormy orbs. Grief was the most prominent, but he could also make out, muddled as it was, the tiniest spark of light. Little it may be but seeing that sparkle in his brother’s eyes; he could see the grey skies began to part, and the beginning of the azure shining through the clouds.

Satoru turned to hide the pull of a smile on his face.

“…He still exists, you know,” Satoru told him, tone almost a whisper. Still, Kakashi jolted as if Satoru has just given him an electric shock. “Just a remnant, but he’s here. His convictions, his ideals, they’re inside of you, are they not?”

“…” Kakashi touched his left eye in silence, tracing the scar that was no longer there.

“…What should I do now?” Tenderly, the question was asked, and Satoru stopped by the doorway, contemplating the enquiry with a tilt of his head.

“Live,” Satoru said simply. “Live and see the future that your hero wanted you to see.”

He left the room, kind enough to pretend that he did not see the beginning of tears trickling down his brother’s cheeks or the soft hiccups that emanated from his curled form. Instead, he closed the door, and leaned against it, wanting to both give his brother some privacy and to prevent others from intruding. Alone in the hallway, he let out a long, withdrawn sigh, the overload of information making his blood rush and his head pound.

He needed a lot of sugar after this.

Satoru glanced at a nearby window as the first stream of sunlight tickled his lashes.

“Ah, the rain has stopped.”

-x-

I’ll be strong…until I see the end.

As long as I’m alive, you will be part of me.

-x-

Kakashi gave Satoru one of his minuscule, but candid smiles as the other neared the bed rather precariously while carrying a tray of food with a hand. There were tear streaks on the other’s still flushed cheeks, and his hair looked a little bit floofy, but overall, Kakashi did indeed seem to be composed. Serene even. Putting down the plastic on Kakashi’s lap, Satoru went to redraw the curtains to let some fresh air in, before turning his gaze back to the patient on the bed.

“You’re looking better already.”

Kakashi was looking down at his meager meal; a bowl of congee topped with some spring onions and for dessert, a plastic-covered cup of caramel pudding with an unimpressed, raised eyebrow.

“Too bad I can’t cook for us today,” Kakashi commented, shaking the bowl a bit. The congee jiggled along with the motion like molasses. “I usually do after you returned from a mission after all.”

“Hmmm~~~ Well, you can just repay me back with a thousand mochis later then~”

“You brat.” Kakashi flicked the cup of pudding from his portion towards the other’s head in a smooth motion, to which the other caught with an exuberance grin. Satoru glided towards the chair, humming the tune from the opening of Digimon Adventure (Good anime).

“…Thank you…Satoru.”

“Hmm?” The younger stripped off the cover of the milk pudding after scratching at the plastic peel. “Did I do something?”

Kakashi shook his head as he gave Satoru a fond yet exasperated look. The tips of his ears were red.  

The cafeteria has only ever had simple and plain dishes, which Satoru found unexciting and the reason why he rarely ventured in there to eat. But Kakashi must have a meal, especially after his strenuous ordeal, so he forced himself to wait in line like a normal person; now it was lunch, so he had gotten a bowl of congee instead, thinking that it would be easier for his brother to digest. Kakashi did not seem to have much of an appetite, but under Satoru’s penetrating glare, he relented to at least have a few spoonsful. Satoru, meanwhile, while also making sure that the other was really eating like he was supposed to, was heavily scrutinising the texture of the pudding. He took a bite and a second one before giving up.

“As I suspected, I really can’t eat anything other than Nii-nii’s food.”

“You still think of me as your brother?” Kakashi seem so genuinely surprised at the notion that Satoru opted to only flick his finger at the other’s forehead in his irritation, making Kakashi grumbled at the unexpected pain. That was what he gets from being such a dumb dumb, Satoru thought, as he made a face at the watery mess located at the bottom of his plastic cup of pudding. The epitome of cafeteria food. Yuck.

“Have your brain turn to mush or something, nii-nii?” Satoru tossed the half-finished dessert into the nearby trashcan. “Or did I somehow miss something, genius as I am?”

Kakashi set his own unfinished food on the tableside. “Well, I thought maybe— “

“Ahh, boring!” Kakashi let out a surprised yelp when Satoru cut him off by jumping head-first onto the already small bed, the full weight of his body pressing down on flailing limbs and knocking the wind out of him. Kakashi wheezed like a dying man under the added mass (boy, he should really stop feeding Satoru so much) while Satoru twisted and turned on him, trying to find comfortable spots to settle his long limbs upon. After several seconds of Kakashi appreciating the value that was oxygen, the younger brother finally calmed down and laid upon the other in a messy tangle of appendages and blanket, looking up at the older beneath snowy eyelashes.

“You being reincarnated and having a previous life means shit to me, nii-nii.” Satoru told him seriously. His blue eyes were unwavering and fanatical as usual as they stared through Kakashi’s soul. “You’re my brother right now, in this life, and nothing would ever change that.

“Though I wish you would rely on me more…Kakashi-nii.” Satoru buried his face in the other’s blanket-clad chest, his voice muffled yet still petulant-sounding. His shades were pushed up all the way to his hairline as he drew his arms around Kakashi’s torso, clinging to him like an overgrown octopus. The constricted feeling brought back memories of their younger days when little Satoru would adamantly cling to him stubbornly during his resting periods. Kakashi’s eyes softened; time really flew by. Satoru has grown up, the brat now towering over him like a bamboo tree. Not only physically, but also mentally. He was fit to be called the strongest amongst them.

Kakashi was glad that Satoru turned out relatively fine despite the other’s involvement; What did he, the epitome of trash, do to deserve a brother like Satoru?

 But some things would never really change, Kakashi thought, as Satoru rubbed his cheek against the blanket like a sleepy feline. Again, Kakashi spoilt him too much.

 “Your burden is my burden as well… I don’t like seeing you keeping secrets and being sad all the time.”

…But in Kakashi’s opinion, Satoru deserves the best that he has. It would take a while before Kakashi can fully accept the things that came to be, and while he may not be ever fully okay with his past and feelings of regret, the former Hatake found himself, for the first time ever, looking forward at the path ahead.

With Satoru.

‘I’m sorry, Obito…Rin… It would take me quite a while before I can join you.’

“…I’m the oldest of the two of us, you know.” Kakashi drawled after a moment of silence, reaching out to ruffle Satoru’s messy locks. They were getting longer, and if let be, Satoru just may have the same catastrophe of a bedhair just like Kakashi does. The other let out a sleepy gripe at the motion, but Kakashi knew he loves the attention. “…. But because my little adorable Satoru is asking, then I’ll try…If you would do the same as well. Please depend on me as well.” I will be strong too. For you.

My little brother.

“I will,” Satoru mumbled, then smiled when Kakashi let out a light-heartened laugh. He hoped Kakashi would laugh more in the future; he has the most soul-comforting chuckle Satoru has ever heard. He may be biased though, but he does not care. He will get Kakashi to laugh more, and that is a promise.

“Now get off, you’re heavy.”

“Nii-nii’s calling me fat~~~” Satoru immediately cried in a hyperinflated tone, while deliberately putting more of his weight on Kakashi, kicked his legs out so hard the poor bed was shaking and creaking.

Suguru, probably attracted by the sheer noise alone, came in through the door just in time to see Satoru being thrown over the bed railing by a blank-faced Kakashi.

-x-

“Also, have you seen Hotaru?”

“Hotaru?”

“That dog figurine you got me.” Kakashi sounded distraught, although a light flush bloomed on his pale cheeks. “I named him after you. Usually, I kept him on me, but the last couple of days have been a blur so…” There was a dejected look on the older’s face, that combined with his shaggy hair, made him look like a sad dog that has been denied a treat.

“I’ll find him for you.” Satoru said, even as he was thinking, ‘…Cute.’

-x-

Omake:

“Satoru, I’m very disappointed in you.” Kakashi shook his head. “I know you can be quite irresponsible at times, but I didn’t think it would be this far…”

“Eh?”

“It’s okay.” Kakashi kneeled in front of confused-looking Megumi, grabbing a plate of peeled tangerines seemingly out of thin air, and pushing it into the boy’s hands. “You may be an unexpected gift, but I’ll still love you as a nephew.”

“N-Nii-san! It’s not what you’re thinking!”

Megumi still seems befuddled at the two adults in the room (Great, another silver-haired weirdo), but he took a bite of a slice. Hey, free food. He ignored the two (the shorter one had the other in chokehold) and went to find a place to sit so that he could enjoy his little snack.

Omake 2:

“I don’t get why you’re making me change,” Kakashi grumbled, folding the clothes he had just tried on into a neat stack. “I rather like these.”

Satoru griped, so much in a foul mood that he threw a withering glare at a store attendant who was admiring too much of his brother’s exposed collarbone. The man gave a whimper before scurrying away.

“…Because I don’t want nii-san to be eaten.”

“Huh?” Kakashi threw him a confused look. “I don’t think curses care about what I wear if they’re trying to eat me.”

“…Ah~~Nii-san~~’ Kakashi seemed to be even more bewildered when Satoru pulled the other into a hug while making such a weird face. “Don’t ever change.”

Anyone who touches you will die.

Omake 3:

“There’s someone hitting on Kakashi-san!”

“This better not be you being stupid again, Itadori,” Nobara warned, flipping her hair. Besides her, Megumi glowered at being reminded of his embarrassment in public at the expense of his team sharing one brain cell.

At her jab, Itadori whined. “I’m not! He was even putting his arm around his shoulders— “He was oblivious to the jolt in his sensei’s posture nor the rising killing intent.

“Ja, should we go with Formation B then, Gojo-sen-“

“Kill on sight.”

“Eh?”

“You heard me.” Satoru smiled a bit too widely and eerily. “Make sure there’s nothing left of that person. Not even a speck of his ash.”

“Ehhhhhhh?!” Yuuji flailed like a startled chicken, horrified at the sudden change in atmosphere and the prospect of bloody murder.

“Ah, so he’s that kind of a brother then,” Nobara muttered. Who knew?

Megumi decided that it would be best for his sanity and reputation if he leaves right now.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: The Ripples (They Echo)

Gojo Satoru could not stop the corner of his lips from smirking when Yuuji barely dodged another punch from the ugly cute stuffed bear, the boy yelling aggravated insults at the cursed corpse. Still, he was doing remarkably fine so far, and the silver-haired man could not even be prouder of his student; the boy has really come so far in his training, and Gojo Satoru has no doubts that those wrinkly farts at the Jujutsu Council Seats would have trouble pushing his student around now.

Still, Yuuji could learn a little bit more about curse energy and how to control it, and while his natural physical strength was astoundingly higher even amongst the Jujutsu Sorcerers, he could go even further beyond if he knows how to utilise them properly. The boy was somewhat interested in using weapons for combat purposes, though Gojo was quick to say that he has not yet the control for it and to focus on his current exercise first.

Twack! Twack! Yuuji smacked away the doll with his fists, sending it flying into one of the pillars. It left behind a marginal dent before rebounding back to the strawberry-haired teenager, who screamed and ducked.

Maybe he could get a second saying about this, and Yuuji could use a change of scenery anyway. They have about a week and a half left before the Kyoto Sister Event, and any time for a bit of training was always precious. Missions kept pouring in, and while Satoru was able to avoid them for a bit to make time for his previously dead student, he could not avoid them forever, lest he wanted to arouse suspicions regarding his absence. Also, today he has plans to invade a certain First Grade sorcerer in Sapporo, and now would be a good time as any.

“Yuuji-kun~” He called out, and the teenager immediately stood straight up with a salute. Taking advantage of his distraction, the doll lunged at Yuuji’s head with a kick, which rendered the boy to smash his face against the tatami mat in a comical fashion.   

Oops.

Satoru immediately grabbed the cursed corpse and shut it off while it was busy laughing (more like squeaking) at Yuuji’s misery.

“We’re going out,” Satoru said as soon as Yuuji removed himself from the floor.

The teenager immediately got excited; traces of his pain gone at the news. “Really, where are we going?”

“To see my brother for a bit.”

“You have a brother?!” Yuuji gaped at the older man, who pouted at the complete incredulity in his voice.

Gojo-sensei reached out to grip his shoulder, and the next moment, the darkness of the underground was replaced with fresh air and bright sunlight. Yuuji stumbled a bit from disorientation, barely computing the vast region of trees that surrounded them from all sides. Still, it was nice to hear the outside world again; he was becoming a bit stir-crazy from being coop up inside for too long.

“We need to walk a bit,” was all his teacher said before he wandered off into the forest. Yuuji blinked the sunlight from his retinas before rushing to catch up with his teacher. When he paced alongside him, Yuuji wondered at the sudden bombshell that his teacher has dropped on him:

“How come you never told us? Or that we haven’t met yet?”

His teacher was unexpectedly silent as they strode along the beaten path, so Yuuji peered at him in suspicion that he may have fallen asleep walking. Who knows really; the eye-cover made it hard to decipher his teacher’s moods sometimes. In the awkwardness, Yuuji looked around, noting the familiarity of the forest and landscape.

“Is it okay for me to be wandering around like this, sensei? We’re still in Jujutsu Tech, aren’t we?”

Gojo-sensei waved at hand at his voiced concern dismissively. So not asleep then, just deliberately ignoring his earlier question. “It’s fine~ You can’t see it, but there’s a small barrier around this place. A barrier within a barrier, so to say. Help conceal any energy or presence inside. Busybodies, ya know? Always like to prod their noses around in places they don’t belong to.”

Yuuji let out an ‘ooh’, as a twig snapped beneath his footsteps. They trudged on, and the beginning of a cabin roof met them over the horizon. As they went closer, Yuuji could see that it was in fact belonged to a small wooden cabin, looking kind of weather-beaten. There was a segment of a porch up front, bearing nothing but wilted leaves on its floor. It looked deserted, and Yuuji was about to say that he has some problems about going to The Cabin in the Woods^TM when Gojo-sensei tilted his head, and led him around the building, aiming to go to the courtyard.

A puff of breath exited through his teacher’s lips.

“My brother was not born with the same eyes as me,” Gojo-sensei stated at last, as they ducked beneath a cover of foliage, and Yuuji, even as dense as he usually was, could detect a hint of detestation in his teacher’s mild tone. Before the strawberry-haired teenager could wonder whether it was in fact aimed at his sibling, the man continued, “In fact, he was born with a weaker than the normal body, and his potential as a Jujutsu sorcerer looked slim, despite the fact that he was very gifted in other ways. He got a lot of shit for it from our family growing up, but he went past it and managed to become one of the best sorcerers this college has to offer. He just recently got back from a mission; you see.” His teacher gazed upwards at the sky, seeing something beyond that Yuuji could not tell. “This barrier is his handiwork.” Gojo-sensei sounded quite gratified in his last sentence.

“I see.” Yuuji tried to envision the kind of person his teacher was talking about just as they walked around the corner to the courtyard. “Gojo-sensei’s older brother must be really smart and wise then— “

“Yo, Satoru.” Kakashi greeted, as he was dangling upside down from a slimy green tentacle, which covered him from head to toe.

“Eh?” Yuuji had to double-take to make sure he was not imagining all of this.

Even Gojo-sensei seemed taken aback for a second, before his usual amused smile returned. “Nii-san.” He replied, mirth in his voice. “Experimenting again?”

Kakashi gave a noncommittal hum, as if there was no foreign entity currently secreting goop onto his hair. “Just an idea, still needs a bit of work though.”

On cue, the tentacle swung the man backwards, sailing past above their heads before flinging Gojo-sensei’s brother way off into the distance. A collective groan as a couple of trees went tumbling down, probably due to the impact. Frightened birds took off to the air.

The tentacle wailed a celebratory shriek at its homerun.

Yuuji gawped.

Gojo-sensei flicked his finger, and immediately a torrent of fire blew across the creature, incinerating it. A horrible shriek assaulted their ears, along with the smell of burning rotting fish making Yuuji gag.

“Need to work on that one a bit more.” A voice said behind them, and Gojo-sensei and Yuuji turned to see Kakashi-san standing there, hands in his pockets, looking as if he has been there all along. There was not a single trace of monster goop on his person; even his hair seemed dry and untouched from any sticky substances.

“A surprise for the people back home?” Yuuji has to back away a bit at his teacher’s broad, sinister smile.

Kakashi mused. “At least that one was not as touchy as the last one.”

Gojo-sensei’s grin seemed a little strain suddenly. “Wasn’t as---“

“Ah, this is--?” Kakashi turned to Yuuji, who froze beneath the attention, ignoring the disgruntled Satoru who stomped on some bits of leftover tentacle flesh with some force.

“I-Itadori Yuuji!” Yuuji introduced himself, suddenly nervous even as the man was practically all smiles and radiating kindness. Gojo-sensei’s brother was about as tall as Fushigoro, though much less grumpy. His silver hair was a shade darker than his teacher’s and even wilder in style and length. A few of the longer strands lingered over his shoulders from his loosened ponytail. “Pleased to meet you, Gojo-sensei’s older brother!” He bowed.

Kakashi chuckled at the title. “Gojo Kakashi. And it’s okay, Yuuji-kun. You can just call me by my first name. I don’t really mind.”

“A-Ah, Kakashi-san then.” Yuuji really have no idea where his anxiety was coming from; he usually has no problem interacting with people, not even with someone as passive as Fushiguro, who was stony-faced and cryptic with his (and Gojo-sensei’s) shenanigans. Kakashi-san’s eyes were dark and stormy, and his built was marginally slimmer than Gojo-sensei, which was highlighted further by the navy black sleeveless turtleneck that he was wearing. He was also very pale, which made Yuuji stare a bit too long at his exposed shoulders, because wow, he was almost too painful to look at beneath the sun rays.

“You should wear a jacket, Nii-san.” Gojo-sensei said, as if just in realisation.

“It’s warm here, Satoru.” Kakashi huffed. “Do you want me to die from heatstroke?”

“Then at least wear something else!” His teacher looked like he wanted to take off his own standard, Jujutsu Tech-styled coat and throw it at his brother. Kakashi-san gave him an unimpressed look that was evident even with his medical mask on.

Yuuji had the feeling that they had had this conversation numerous times.

Who is the older and younger brother again?

Kakashi-san steered the conversation away from the apparent volatile topic with much ease. “So!” He chirped cheerfully, clasping his hands together. “What brings my cute little brother and his adorable student to visit this old man?”

As Yuuji tried to wrap his head around someone actually saying Gojo-sensei and him with ‘cute’ and ‘adorable’ in the same sentence without any sarcasm in it, the younger brother leaned into the older’s personal space, wrapping a lanky arm around him in a languid fashion. “How about we take this inside? It’s almost teatime~~”

“Ah, is it?”

“It is, it is. Yuuji-kun, come along now~~”

Gojo-sensei lied. It was not tea-time; the clock has just struck 11 as Yuuji fidgeted on the lounging couch while Kakashi-san pulled at his teacher’s cheeks, his eyes smiling as the younger whined out jumbled apologies. “It’s not my fault that Nii-san doesn’t keep track of time,” He garbled, which just made Kakashi yanked harder.

In wonder, Yuuji looked around as his teacher flailed; it was surprisingly homely despite its outward appearance. It was still relatively small, but not uncozy, its design a simple modern style mixed with traditional Japanese. The living room he was in was connected to a spatial kitchen, with a counter in between. Bookcases filled to the brim with books lined at a side of a wall, mostly in Japanese but there were other languages thrown in there as well – English, was the one Yuuji could easily identify, and he thought he could decipher some Russian and German as well, though not the others, and on the opposite, a work desk, which has more variety of books and scrolls scattered on top of it, streams of sunlight filtering through the arched windows. There was an unfinished mug of coffee located precariously near the edge. A velvet armchair sat right next to the lounging couch that Yuuji was resting on, used as a makeshift coat rack, as there was a couple of clothes strewn right across its cushions, some that Yuuji was able to recognise as Gojo-sensei’s. There were more doors, leading to what Yuuji presumed were the bedroom and the washroom.

“Want some tangerines, Yuuji-kun?” A plate of sliced fruits appeared suddenly in front of Yuuji, making him jump. He looked down at the food he was offered and felt his stomach growling; he forgot to eat something that morning and has jumped straight ahead to training.

“I want Nii-san’s dango instead~~” Gojo-sensei whined, clambering an arm around Kakashi-san from behind. He looked quite unbothered with his now puffy reddened cheeks. Munching, Yuuji contemplated whether he could snap a few photos to show off at Kugisaki and Fushiguro later; it was certainly quite a humorous sight to behold.

“Then go get them from the kitchen,” the older brother drawled, and after thinking about a moment or two, turned around to flick Gojo-sensei on the forehead. “Though I really shouldn’t let you; don’t think I don’t know you’ve been sneaking some snacks away from me.”

“I was hungry~” Gojo-sensei protested. “Plus, I have a growing teenager to feed!” ‘Don’t bring me into this!’ Yuuji thought.

“Uh-huh. And Shoko-chan’s recently told me that you’ve gained some we—“

“Well, well,” Gojo-sensei stood straight up with some flourish, his usual grin on his face. He turned to Yuuji, who has been observing the whole interaction in wonder. “I think we forgot our initial objective here! Yuuji-kun, if we wanted to work more on your energy control then, then right here,” He jerked a thumb in Kakashi’s direction. “Is your best man for the job.”

“So that is what this is about,” Kakashi started observing Yuuji a little bit more closely, half-lidded eyes suddenly sharp. The teenager squirmed beneath the gaze; Kakashi-san may not have the Six Eyes as his younger sibling does, but nonetheless, his deep stormy was just as heavy and powerful, like the currents of the deep ocean. “Ah right, you’re the vessel, are you not?” It was a statement more than it was a question.

Itadori nodded.

Kakashi sighed. “You’ve certainly given me a lot of trouble.” He said this to Gojo-sensei, who shrugged dismissively as if he has not gone against the whole higher-ups just to conceal Yuuji’s continued existence.

“Alright, alright.” Kakashi regarded Yuuji with a gentle rise of the brow when he saw how fidgety the teenager was. “No need to be so nervous, Yuuji-kun. I certainly have no quarrel with you, in fact,” his eyes curved into a smile, “I am glad, that you survived. And I believe that you can do great things.”

Yuuji blinked, not expecting those words so soon from someone he has just met. He could feel the tiniest bit of a blush creeping up on his neck at the pure belief in the older Gojo’s voice, and he rubbed at it, embarrassed.

Gojo-sensei gave him a Cheshire beam.

“Just leave Yuuji-kun with me for a couple of hours, Satoru.”

“I’ll be back soon, Yuuji-kun~~” Gojo-sensei waved from around the corner. “Don’t miss me too much~~”

“And don’t steal any of my snacks, you brat!” Kakashi called out, and Yuuji could not help but snicker when he heard Gojo-sensei griping about being caught.

“Well then,” Kakashi asked, smiling as he regarded Yuuji. “Shall we get started?”

“You don’t need to be worried about flashing your energy about,” Kakashi told him, as they ventured into the courtyard again. “The barrier will help conceal your presence. You’re supposed to be in hiding after all.”

“Uh-huh,” was Yuuji’s smart reply, for he was too busy admiring the assortment of pouches that now adorned the man’s form; two were strapped on each thigh, while a bigger one hanged at back of his waist, held by a strap of a belt. Weapon pouches, Kakashi-san has called them, though he carried around medical items and other useful things as well. Neat.

“Energy control, energy control…” Kakashi muttered to himself, before regarding Yuuji with a contemplative gaze. “There are several ways we can go about this; the one I’m thinking about is not exactly the easiest, but you can do it anywhere if you want to.”

“What are my options?” Yuuji asked.

“Well, tree-walking is one.” To demonstrate, Kakashi placed a foot against a truck of a nearby tree, before proceeding to stand 90 degrees to gravity with only one leg.

“Whoa!” The teenager gasped at the sight, eyes wide in amazement. 

Kakashi hopped back down. “But this helps with your energy flow, but not necessarily hone your efficiency into your technique. The one I’m talking about helps with both. Not to rush you or anything, but Satoru did tell me about you re-joining at the Kyoto Sister Event, right?” At Yuuji’s confirmation, he added, “So that'll help string you along. Plus, you don’t need a whole tree. Just some of it.” He spun on his heels, reaching upwards.

“So, your technique aptitude—“

“Oh~~” A voice interrupted them, one that did not belong to either Kakashi or Itadori. “This is truly unexpected.”

Kakashi turned around to see Yuuji slapping himself on the cheek.

“S-sorry, Kakashi-san.” Yuuji seemed sheepish. “He likes to come out sometimes.”

‘He’ was referring to the grinning mouth that now has manifested itself near the teenager’s knuckle instead, baring sharp pointy teeth at him.

Kakashi watched in fascination as the mouth spoke to him with much clarity and tone. “I didn’t think much of it when the Gojo pest mentioned that he has a brother,” it confessed, “but you…”

“You don’t belong here, do you?”

Confused, Yuuji stared at the other man with wide eyes. What on earth was Sukuna saying?

“I have no idea what you mean,” Kakashi said conversationally, body language at total ease. Then to Yuuji, he continued, “So for this one, you need—“

Sukuna gave a mocking laugh, apparently amused at the nonchalantly. “Don’t ignore me, you brat.”

“I’m really not.” The Gojo stated amicably. “But I will be if you continue to interrupt us. You’re distracting the lesson here, which I don’t really appreciate.”

“Ah, it’s been so long that I’ve forgotten.” Sukuna purred, making Yuuji winced at the foreign sound. He slapped his palm once more on the stupid mouth, but Sukuna merely moved back to his cheek. He looked like he was playing a game of Whack-A-Mole with himself. “You Shinobis have always loved misdirection, don’t you?”

Finally, Kakashi-san appeared to focus fully on the grinning mouth, which preened under the attention that it was finally receiving. His gaze was as sharp as steel as he contemplated the King of Curses’s words.

“One minute,” Sukuna coaxed, his voice sugary sweet. “One minute of your time. To go up against what is the last remnant of that era.”

“Now, hold on—“ Yuuji started to protest but Kakashi shook his head at him.

“…Fine.” Slumping, the silver-haired man presented an affirmative wave at the unnatural mouth. “Only because I know that you wouldn’t leave us alone otherwise.”

With one last gleeful smirk, Sukuna disappeared.

The Gojo ran a hand through his frazzled hair, looking quite weary. “I don’t know whether I should be honoured or concerned that I got the attention of Ryoumen Sukuna.” He murmured to himself, before he threw Yuuji an apologetic look, his mask creasing with his worry. “Will you be able to handle this, Yuuji-kun? I’m sorry that we had to start our lesson like this, though, with his current state, he won’t be able to get out from the barrier without me permitting it.”

Yuuji shook his head. “It’s fine, Kakashi-san. Sukuna was just being an asshat as usual.” He swallowed a cough when he felt the curse spat at him from the inside.

“If it’s any consolation, I think this would be a great time to see your control over—“

Kakashi blocked the punch aimed at his face with an arm, the force behind it strong enough to kick up dirt and push him back a few inches. His half-lidded eyes took in the now visible unique markings that formed on the boy’s skin, and the glaring two sets of amber eyes that all belonged to the most powerful curse to ever walked the earth.

“Excuse me, that was quite rude,” Kakashi said languidly, barely breathless by the frontal assault. “I was still talking to Yuuji-kun.”

Ryoumen Sukuna bared his teeth at him, his excitement apparent. He brought back his other arm to swing his fist, which was held off with a flick of Kakashi’s wrist. The two strained against each other for control, the King of Curses gazing deeply into Kakashi’s disinterested gaze.

“There’s another one,” Sukuna stated, eyes narrowed and glinting with animalistic delight. A fact. “He’s dormant.”

“Don’t look inside me too much, Sukuna-san,” Kakashi replied. “It makes me embarrassed~~”

The next moment, he deliberately loosened his stance. He flipped Sukuna over, using the leverage to launch him in the air. Immediately, a fireball flew after him, which struck the curse with full force. Hot wind blasted throughout the area, rustling the grass and the trees.

Sukuna emerged from the ball of smoke and fire, relatively unscathed. “Fire doesn’t work on me too well, Shinobi.” He said as the Gojo materialised in front of him, a kunai twirling in a hand. The blade sailed past his head, almost nicking his ear as the curse twisted his body, catching Kakashi with a firm grip over his shoulder.

“How about water then?”

Kakashi evaporated from existence with a cloud of smoke, and the maw of a crystalline water dragon met the curse’s sight.

The ground reverberated as the dragon sent Sukuna smashing down below. The real Kakashi landed nearby the destruction, vigilance pouring in his posture as he brought another kunai and a couple of shuriken from his pouch. He waited for the smoke to dissipate.

There was a resounding mockful laugh before the smoke parted ways to reveal slashes of arc made from pure cursed energy sent in his path, even sharper than the weapons he was holding. He dodged the first one and ducked the second attack, but the third caught him between his shoulder blades, sending him down to a knee.

Or so it seems.

Deliberately maintaining his distance whilst he idly waved away the last wisp of smoke, the curse observed the lurched form of the sorcerer. Not a clone like earlier then, the real one, for any damage made to would have dematerialised already from any given form of impact.

“No need for such melodrama, Shinobi.” He said, and he heard the unamused snort. The man uncurled himself, and the curse noted the absence of any damage on his clothing, not even the tiniest of gash.  Interesting. He was sure his technique has connected. Or has it really? Before he could comment on it, the silver-haired man darted forward with a burst of inhuman speed, throwing forward his barrage of metal stars to throw Sukuna off to the right.

Grinning, Sukuna backed up as they went at each other with a flurry of motions, Kakashi parrying the curse’s much stronger assaults with his flexibility, not afraid to use his long legs to manoeuvre around his swinging form. He tried to slam a foot at the back of Sukuna’s knee, an underhanded tactic, but Sukuna made a motion to trap him in a chokehold, forcing him to abandon his plan to kick himself upward and over the curse’s shoulder.

The ground rumbled once more and Sukuna found his back meeting with a wall of solid earth, conjured by the clever little fox in front of him. With the sudden decrease in room movement, Kakashi’s knuckles brazed his nose, but through the sting of pain, all the King of Curses could feel was the paroxysm of euphoria.

Ah, a glimpse of that time…

Having his momentary fill, the curse stilled his movements in a mockery of a ceasefire. Kakashi noted the absence of hostility with wariness, observing Sukuna’s smirk. At the sorcerer’s instruction, the wall crumbled into its innate property.

“You held back,” Sukuna remarked, apparently both happy and upset at the fact.

“I couldn’t exactly harm the body of my younger brother’s cute little student, now, could I?” Kakashi drawled, “He’ll cry about it to me for days if I do.” The scent of the ozone and thunderstorm. “What was the point of this, King of Curses?”

“…A curiosity.” Surprisingly, Sukuna answered.

The sorcerer’s eyes narrowed, before flashing in indignation. “Also, how did you know?”

Sukuna sniffed at that, rolling his neck lazily. “It’s a lost art.” His pairs of eyes met Kakashi’s, glinting crimson. “But I was around long enough to know the differences. To learn the differences. You have both.”

Chakra and Cursed Energy.

Ten seconds left. Kakashi watched as the marking on Yuuji’s body began to subtly fade away, picking up speed as the precious seconds ticked by.

“It was a shame.” The curse stated, his glare turning into a leer, “That you lot died out before I could have had my fun.”

“Should I be honoured then?” There was no emotion in Kakashi’s voice. Sukuna gave a startlingly bright laugh at that, shaking his head.

Time’s up. The markings disappeared completely.

“The day when I will finally rid myself of this damn vessel…” With one last soul-penetrating look, Sukuna promised ominously, his eyes sliding close. Even then, he appeared sinister.

“Make sure to entertain me well, little Shinobi-kun.”

Itadori Yuuji blinked at him.

Kakashi smiled at his clueless expression, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “You did good,” He praised.

“Ah, thanks. But what did the old bastard want?” Yuuji patted down the dust from his uniform, silently thanking whoever it was watching from above that he does not have to replace his clothes. Again. Stupid old curse that likes to rip his uniform at every single chance he gets.

Kakashi tried to hide a snort at the nickname. “Just a fight. He was curious.”

Yuuji grumbled, “What is he, a cat?” as Kakashi led him back to the middle of the field. “Now where were we? Ah yes, Satoru said something about wanting to increase your energy control aptitude?”

Casting a glance at the large holes that now existed in the courtyard, Yuuji nodded. “I got the hang of it somewhat, but Gojo-sensei mentioned that I was really not that efficient about flowing it into my technique or something.”

Kakashi looked around, before going over ever so slowly to one of the trees, bony fingers picking of one leaf from the hanging branch. Yuuji tried very very hard not to fidget as he waited for the man to walk back with his turtle speed. Önce he was standing in front of the teenager again, he handed over the leaf to Yuuji.

“Oookay?” Yuuji stared down at the slightly yellowed leaf, wondering whether the man was playing a dull prank on him.

“Try cutting it in half.”

“Huh?”

“Tear the leaf in two, I mean. No, not like that.” Kakashi stopped him when Yuuji moved to tear the foliage with his fingers. “By using your cursed energy.”

“I can do that?”

“Well, technically this kind of training is for wind-nature but from what I’ve heard of Sukuna –and the way he tried to kill me earlier-- I think this fits the bill,” Kakashi explained, which made Yuuji pulled a face. He doesn’t really get it, and his confusion must have really shown because the Gojo reached back into one of his pouches and pulled out a kunai.

Yuuji looked with apprehension at the weapon, wondering if the Gojo was going to stab him for being too slow.

“If you understand how cursed energy works, then you can do a lot of things, once you experiment and get the concepts down.” The silver-haired man flipped the kunai that he was holding, and with the smell of something burning, the blade came alive with streams of electrifying blue streaks running wildly down its length and onto the grassy earth, the screams of a thousand birds chirping assaulting Ryuuji’s ears. Frozen with wide amber eyes, the teenager was captivated by the beautiful but deadly sight, feeling the air charged with currents. Goosebumps appeared along his skin, his hair standing on end from the pure electricity emitted from the other.

With an increasingly piercing shriek and a flash of light, the blade broke into fragments, cluttering to the grass below.  

“…Ah, that happens if I don’t ratio it well enough.” Kakashi-san sounded annoyed, and he stuck the broken handle back into his pouch with a profound sigh. “Even I have trouble sometimes you know. My energy is denser than most people, so I need to practice more restrain when using my techniques. It’s quite troublesome.”

“What usually happens if you don’t?” The teenager could not help his curiosity, patting down his hair from the excess sparks. No good, they stood straight back up.

“Welp, for starters,” There was a cheery eye-smile, “I blow stuff up, to say the least. And in the worst-case scenario, I’ll blow myself up, and not in the good, pleasurable kind of way.”

“That’s because you use both.”

Yuuji groaned when the stupid demon inside him manifested once more.

“How palpable,” This time Sukuna spawned on Yuuji’s cheek, and one of the slits quivered open to reveal a hungry crimson orb, the very same that has assessed Kakashi earlier. Even now it held the Gojo in its regards. “You Shinobis were savages, monsters in human skins. The closest things to cursed beings while still having a shred of humanity.”

“But you’re special even amongst them, weren’t you?” Kakashi was sure that the admiration in the curse’s voice was fallacious, for the implication that he has unknowingly earned the respect of a heinous being for his former profession was quite disconcerting. “You used nature-based techniques against me. But none of them was of your innate technique, but rather from something else, aren’t they? Not many of them can use that many elements are you did, and I’m sure that weren’t even a glimpse of the things you are capable of. Interesting, very interesting!”

“Aren’t you damn chatty today?” Yuuji slapped his palm over the mouth, irritated. “Gotten tired sitting on your bony throne room all day that you came out gossiping like a high school girl?”

Sukuna’s eye glared upwards at Yuuji in vehemence, his mouth relocating to his hand while he spat, “Shut it, you brat, I can’t help it if you’re stupid enough to not realise— “

Yuuji did not know exactly what has transpired in the next half a millisecond, but the next thing he knew, the King of Curse’s words halted into a furious splutter; Yuuji blinked, just managing to catch the end of an orange piece of wet sack lodged in Sukuna’s makeshift throat before he managed to swallow.

Kakashi-san stood before them with an arched eyebrow, now holding a basket full of unpeeled tangerine in an arm while his fingers clasped around half of an unpeeled piece.

“You--!” Was all Sukuna managed before the Gojo shoved the remaining segment into his mouth. Yuuji could only wince at the force, half-amazed and half-terrified.

“Ah, sorry~~” Kakashi said, obviously not sorry at all. “I thought we have established that you would leave us alone after all of that. Obviously, Ol’King was not satisfied, so I thought some offering would help,” His mask crinkled together as he presumably grinned, shoving more of the fruit with malicious intent.

“I read that you were hailed as a deity by some. I’m merely offering my tribute, my Lord~~”

“Phftbratillkillyou--!”

“Ah, Kakashi-san,” Yuuji raised his other, unoccupied hand like the very good student that he was, waiting for the older sorcerer to focus on him, “Sorry, but I have a question.”

Kakashi rammed a whole fruit, one that was bigger than Yuuji’s palm, before he responded, “Yes, Yuuji-kun?”

“Where will that tangerine go?” Because Sukuna’s mouth was currently on Yuuji’s knuckles.

“Ah,” Kakashi said, seeing the concern. They both looked at Yuuji’s hand.

As if to spite them, Sukuna then swallowed the tangerine whole, peel, and all.

-x-

“He’s fine,” Shoko said to the frazzled blank-eyed Kakashi and the frantic Yuuji, who was clamouring on about how he was going to die again due to some fruit being lodged in his wrist. “Just refrain from feeding the King of Curses any more tangerines, all right, Gojo-san?”

-x-

“—so, imagine it like a knife and dragging it across—“Through the thicken miasma of cursed energy, Kakashi’s voice sounded muddled, and Yuuji tried his hardest to do what the other was saying, but the more he tried to focus his flow, the more he could not specify his coordination. Impatient, he peeked a glance.

No good. Nary a scratch on the leaf.

Losing control, his energy burst and dissipated.

“Ah!” Yuuji moaned, and he fell on his back. The bright sun rays bled into his retinas, as the mild blue of the calm sky and the puffy clouds conquered his view. Beads of sweat ran down his temple, and he breathed out slowly through gritted teeth; he felt usually exhausted, the concentration he needed just to force his cursed energy to flow into the direction he wanted so mentally taxing that Yuuji was sweating buckets like he has just run a marathon.

And Yuuji never sweated during a marathon.

“Let’s take a break.” Kakashi decided, before hauling Yuuji off with relative ease onto one of the benches. Yuuji did not even have enough energy in him to act surprised; if the man could summon a basket of tangerines from mid-air, then he could certainly lounge his heavy ass around despite his skinny appearance.

His ass slumping against the seat of the bench, Yuuji watched as Kakashi-san wandered off somewhere with the deceptive speed of a sloth. He has regained some of his breath back when Kakashi came back, carrying two cans of drinks in his hands. He offered the one with the black and golden colouring wrapper to Yuuji as he sat down. The can was freezing cold when he touched it, and he placed it against his forehead, basking in the coolness against his heated skin. He heard the distinct ‘pop’ sound of another can opening.

Wait, Kakashi-san was drinking as well.

Yuuji turned much too hastily for his liking, but the other has apparently finished, shaking an already empty tin with absent-mindedness, his mask in place.

‘Fast!’ Fiddling with his own unopened can, Yuuji could not help the pang of disappointment and curiosity. Sensing his gaze, Kakashi raised his head and gave him an eye-smile.

Yuuji returned it, flicking a finger to finally crack open his drink. He took a quick gulp, the first taste of bitterness assaulting his tastebuds like a bulldozer.

For a few moments, all he heard was the sound of his own heartbeats.

“…Kakashi-san,” Mumbling, Yuuji traced a finger over the rim of the can. The smell of coffee brought about feelings of sudden nostalgia, and he remembered that he has not had any for so long. Not since the long nights before his grandfather’s death. “Do you think…that I’ll be able to get anywhere with the way that I am right now? Without being born with any super-duper awesome technique like Fushiguro and the others?”

He has died after all, for failing to conquer the demon inside him. The reason why he has started on this path. Yuuji was usually an optimistic individual, but he was still human after all. He has had his days of doubts. 

“I would not lie that being born with inherently powerful technique is a boon,” Kakashi began, as he crossed his legs together. “But amongst the people I have met over my years, for everyone born a genius, there are also individuals that have become powerful of their own accord.”

“There’s a prime example right now at Jujutsu Tech. I don’t think you have met her yet, but your senior, Maki, has not a shred of cursed energy inside her, but” He ruffled Yuuji’s strawberry hair with practised ease, “She is one of the strongest individuals I’ve known. And she’s also the most hardworking individual I’ve known. I had no qualm that she would be able to rise to higher ranks easily.” If her clan would ever swallow their damn pride and let her.

“So, don’t feel sorry for yourself. You may not be the smartest, or have a ‘super-duper awesome’ technique but you have your own strengths, do you not? We’ll work on that. You’ll become strong on your own merits.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Truly.” Kakashi cranked his neck, gazing at the bright, cerulean sky. “For I was even worse than you when I started.”

“No way,” The look of pure disbelief on the boy’s face was so uniquely hilarious that Kakashi could not help but snicker. Just the pure exaggerated facial emotion reminded him of Satoru’s; no wonder he likes Yuuji so much.

“I’m sure Satoru told you the gist of it. His powers do not come cheaply, for the clan have gone to great lengths to obtain them. Amidst all of that, I got somewhat the short end of the stick. I have an above-average reserve of cursed energy, but my body was so physically weak that my energy was essentially eating itself out if I used even a bit of it. I couldn’t leave the house at all without attracting curses to my location because of how badly I couldn’t control it.”

“Eh? Like Sukuna’s fingers? Gojo-sensei said something about them attracting a ton of curses as well.” Yuuji nodded sagely in his remembrance. “And that I can track them down like a radar.”

Ah geez, what did Satoru tell the boy? “Hmm, yeah, sure.” The Gojo allowed, just to go along with whatever narrative his younger brother has fed Yuuji. He’ll knock some sense into Satoru later.

“Are you okay now, Kakashi-san?”

“I am, though sometimes the pain lingers.” The boy still had a worried expression, so the older reached over to ruffle his hair once more. Yuuji could not deny that it was very soothing. “Thank you for your concern, Yuuji-kun, but truly, as compared to before, this is much better.” His eyes were warm, which made Yuuji felt infinitely happier. “Thanks to Satoru’s stubbornness and Shoko’s technique.”

Swallowing, Yuuji’s gaze fell on the rim of the can that he was holding. “Gojo-sensei is truly an amazing person, isn’t he? To be able to do the things that he does.” He wondered whether he would be able to help as many people as Gojo-sensei does one day.

“Satoru cares more than he usually let on,” Kakashi smiled. “He wants not only you, but Megumi-kun, Maki-san as well as the other students to become as strong as him.”

Yuuji could only gape at the tall order. “To become as strong… as Gojo-sensei? Is that even possible?” Gojo-sensei has brought him to observe his fight with that Mount Fuji Special Grade curse after all, and what abilities he has shown Yuuji in that short duration of time was enough to solidify his admiration for his teacher. His title as ‘The Strongest’ was not just for show.

Kakashi let out a hum. “Of course. For I believe that the next generation will always surpass the previous one.”

“Unquestionably, life will not always go the way you want.” Kakashi threw his empty container into the trash can perfectly into the other side of the field. It went in with a sounding ‘çlank’. “And the road ahead will not be easy, especially for a Jujutsu sorcerer,”

“But Satoru and I, as long as we’re here, will help you. So that one day, you’ll be able to look on ahead on the path that you have carved for yourself.”

Then, Kakashi leaned closer to Yuuji, a spark of mischief shining in his dark irises as he brought up a finger to where his lips should be. The teenager jolted at their closeness, feeling his palms sweating as he quietly gawked at the specks of azure in Kakashi’s eyes that he otherwise was not able to notice.

“Though Yuuji-kun, keep this a secret between us, yeah? Because my little brother will get so shyyy if you mention any of this to him~~” His manner of speaking was like Gojo-sensei, obviously making good fun of it.

Just the thought of a usually shameless individual like Gojo-sensei actually being able to feel emotions such as embarrassment was enough to turn Yuuji away, snorting into his drink.  

Kakashi waited for the teenager to finish his refreshment before he stood up with a slow stretch. “Well then, shall we continue?”

“Yes!” With renewed determination, Yuuji shouted.

-x-

“What do you think, Nii-san?”

After getting Yuuji back into the bunker, the boy looking absolutely besotted to have met Kakashi (“I’ll share you my meatballs recipe later, Kakashi-san!”) especially after his brother has graced him with his cooking, the younger Gojo spotted his brother cleaning up in the kitchen, his long hair still wet from the shower.

Satoru has come back to the cabin when the sky has already darkened, and found the two just finishing dinner –apparently, they have had Curry Udon that Yuuji has helped his brother made, with some leftover dangos for dessert (Satoru had grabbed these instead, for he has already eaten). Knowing their time together has come to an end, Itadori said his goodbye to the older Gojo with a heartfelt smile, the boy bringing back an absolutely astronomically large, wrapped bento courtesy of Kakashi-nii (“You did say you have a growing teenager to feed, Satoru”).

He pondered the conversation he has had with the boy.

“Did anything interesting happen during training?” Gojo asked, because Yuuji was fluttering about with some excitable yet anxious activity.

“I managed to slice a leaf a portion through with just my energy! Kakashi-san said I did really well for my first time.” Satoru grinned encouragingly at that, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“…and Sukuna showed up multiple times during it.”

“Really? What did he want?”

“A fight against Kakashi-san. Also kept saying something about Shinobi.” The teenager peered at his teacher’s impassive expression, asking for an elaboration regarding the King of Curses’ peculiar actions.

“…That’s nothing you need to be concern about yet, Yuuji-kun. Focus on the upcoming mission first.” Satoru was frankly surprised that the King of Curses knew about chakra and its existence inside his brother from the get-go, but he supposed the curse has stuck out long enough during his reign to catch the lingering gasp of the dying era. He was tempted to interrogate Sukuna more about it, but what was the chances that the curse will be up for a fruitful and honest conversation with him? Besides, it was not like the curse was going to run his mouth off to every sorcerer that Yuuji meets, right?  

To be blunt, Sukuna knowing was worrisome, but hopefully, nothing would come out of it.

Satoru leaned against a cabinet as Kakashi let out a thoughtful hum.

“Yuuji-kun has a lot of potentials.” Kakashi finished laying off the last of the dishes on the drying rack. “He’s also very kind and compassionate...” He trailed off, staring blankly into the wall.

“I just wish…”

“You wish?” Sensing the change of mood in his brother, Satoru prompted lightly.

“That Yuuji-kun didn’t have to fight. That any of them has to fight.”

Satoru knew what his brother was going to say even before he was going to say it. They had this conversation before when they had taken Megumi under their wing.

The younger Gojo remembered being told of the events that entailed his brother’s past life; how he had lost everything even before he reached the ripe age of fourteen. How he has continued fighting for the very same village that took his father away from him, the ridicule he has received during his years of services – “Friend Killer, they called me,” Kakashi recollected, and Satoru gritted his teeth—and the haunted memories of his dead teammates clawing him awake every night, the feeling of their blood at his fingertips demanding to be washed away except to be polluted with more for the sake of his home.

And to keep on living for what?

(“I will see the future in your stead.”)

For the very same man who has nearly destroyed his heart.

Satoru does not know how his brother has managed to cope with all of that, to continue living amongst the very same two-faced people who have vilified him and his father while also revering him for his sacrifices and contributions for their safety. Satoru has seen such people existed when he was carrying Amanai’s corpse, the feeling of wanting to rip everything and everyone apart at the wrongness and two-facedness of it all. How he could easily imagine the lifeless face of the girl to be replaced with that of his brother’s, a pawn to be used and forgotten just because there would be a replacement.

A shiver of anger ran down his spine.

Just the thought of something happening to Kakashi was enough for Satoru to…

He clenched his fist.

To Satoru, his brother was the strongest out of all of them. To want to keep fighting despite all he has gone through, just for wanting to prevent the same tragedy from happening to other people. How he wished for peace to come for the younger generation when it has not for his. Although such courage and selflessness would no doubt meet a gruesome and unrewarding end. Not many have the will to stomach that. Some have left. One has tried to oppose that.

“But yet fight we must,” Satoru muttered, drumming his fingers. Such was the way of human life; one war passed, then peace, then more fighting. Jujutsu sorcerers always get the brunt of such ugliness, as with the beings born from such negative feelings pent up from aggression and wayward humanity growing ever more vicious and stronger with each emerging era, who else was going to keep them at bay. A never-ending cycle of piling corpses.

On the worst of days, Satoru can sympathise with where that guy was coming from.

His fingers itched, feeling the phantom feel of blood splotching its tips and regrets piling past his throat. As always, he swallowed past them.

“The only thing we can do right now for them is to guide and remove any poison from their path.”

“Indeed.” Kakashi turned to look at Satoru, and the younger knew he understood. “And I’ll watch over them.”

“As will I.”

Smiling, Kakashi reached over to ruffle Satoru’s hair, making it plopped over his blindfold even more. Satoru leaned his head further into the caress, closing his eyes; it’s been a while after all.

“Were you this worried for me as well when I was small, nii-nii?” The question came out much softer and rawer than he meant to.

“I’m still worried for you even now, you overgrown bamboo shoot.” Kakashi snorted as if insulted by the question. He made sure the sink-pipe was properly shut tight before venturing into the living room, Satoru following closely behind.

“Just the fact that any of us had to fight is…” Cruel. Pointless. What was the point of continuing to fight if all that awaits at the end is only misery and death? Thankless retribution.

Satoru shook his head as he felt his skull throbbing.

“I met with Nanami today,” Satoru told his brother the reason of his absence. “Persuaded him to take Yuuji on one of his missions in the next couple of days. He said he’ll think about it, but of course, that’s Nanami Talk for saying that he agreed already.”

“Nanami-kun? He’ll be good for Yuuji.” Kakashi concurred, turning off some of the lights in the room. The dim lighting made it easier on Satoru’s eyes, as they were very photosensitive.

Kakashi sat at his favourite seat, located right at the end of the couch near the armrest, the cushion swallowing his form. It was his usual spot where he liked to read, and there was a hard-covered book placed on the side table, which he picked up after adjusting himself against the headrest, looking positively comfortable as if the couch might swallow him whole if he melted any further. It was when his brother pulled out his bookmark that Satoru dived right in, divesting himself of his blindfold onto the coffee table after his head made contact with Kakashi’s lap. The other barely batted an eye for he simply starting reading where he had last off.

Others who should happen to intrude into such a private moment would marvel at the fact that Gojo Satoru, the number one public nuisance, was able to keep his mouth shut for more than a minute.

But this slight respite with his brother was one of the few moments where Satoru could somewhat unwind and let go of his thoughts for a while. The overload of information he has retained throughout the day was enough to give him a migraine at times. So, he remained reserved, basking in the muffled sounds of pages being turned and the slight gasps that his brother would make when the characters of his beloved novels would say or do something unexpected. In these calming moments, Satoru would play with his phone, or even snatch a book or two to read. Today though, he was feeling exceptionally lazy, so he merely lay there, the nagging of weariness pulling at his eyelids. Occasionally Satoru would nudge his head against his brother’s stomach, a silent demand for attention, and Kakashi would reach down and pat his shoulder or ruffle his hair.

If Satoru was a cat, he would absolutely be purring in contentment right now.

As he was about to nod off into sleepyland, his brother’s smooth tone caught the end of his wavering consciousness.

“I have to leave for a mission tomorrow.”

Satoru jerked; his feeling of sleepiness gone. “So soon?” He asked, with a note of apprehension. Because Kakashi has just returned from one from half a week ago, and it was the third consecutive one in a row for this month alone. His brother was always working hard, but he has always done so at the expense of his health. The worst example of it was when Satoru caught Kakashi using his multiple clone technique to go on multiple missions simultaneously. Kakashi’s amount of cursed energy may not be as much as Satoru’s, but he has one of the biggest reserves amongst the sorcerers. It was certainly nothing to scoff against; his reserves combined with his sharp mind and a vast arsenal of techniques made him to be quite a force to be reckoned with, but Kakashi’s body cannot handle the stress too often lest it will be burnout.

As a comparison, he would likely imagine akin to the overheating of machines; use them far too often, and they bound to be damaged from the excess heat.

Of course, the younger Gojo was not too happy hearing about his brother landing himself in the infirmary due to burnout, again, so as soon as he entered the room, he plopped himself heavily onto the bed, ignoring the disgruntled grunt that came from the unmoving lump.

“You do realise that I’m a patient, don’t you?”.

“And you don’t need to push yourself too hard, you know.” Satoru clicked his tongue, giving his bedridden brother a baleful glare, which was pointedly ignored as Kakashi stared at the ceiling with half-dead eyes.

If Satoru was being truthful with himself and his brother, then he will acknowledge the fact that deep down, he did not really approve of Kakashi’s decision of becoming a Jujutsu Sorcerer. He knew first-hand how hard and unforgiving the path was, a never-ending race laced with deaths and suffering. He was hoping that his brother would retire peacefully as a civilian, without being caught up in the Jujutsu world’s nonsense. He knew how much his bloody tragic past has haunted him even to this day, and he did not want his brother to suffer any more heartbreak.

Were Satoru the older one, he would have abused his Older Sibling Privileges to strictly forbade the other from joining, even though he knew it would not have deterred Kakashi one bit.

“Okay then, I’ll stop.” Satoru stared at him, knowing that it cannot be that easy. “Only if you yourself would stop.”

“You know I can’t do that.” He wished he could, but he was born in an inescapable fate.

Kakashi shrugged. “Then I won’t as well.”

“Why are you making this difficult, nii-san?” Satoru said, exasperated. He rarely lost his cool, but something about how unconcerned Kakashi was being made him irked. Perhaps the onslaught of missions was getting to him as well. “I’m the strongest. There is no mission that I can’t complete, or curses that I can’t exorcise.”

“Of course I know you’re the strongest,” Kakashi stated tenderly, composed even in the face of Gojo Satoru’s ire. “But at the end of the day, you’re still human yourself, are you not? You may be able to become literally untouchable, but what about your emotional wellbeing? You can’t keep going on like this yourself, Satoru.”

“And who says I can’t?”

Kakashi narrowed his eyes at the spat. “Me. As your elder brother, it is my duty to take care of you.”

“I want to help out,” Kakashi continued, meeting Satoru’s dangerous eyes straight on. The onyx shone like glinting steel, sharp. “I want to take some of the burdens off your shoulders a bit, no matter how small it may be.”

“Let me do this, Satoru.”

“Before I was your brother, I was a tool.” He held up a hand when Satoru opened his mouth to argue against the dehumanising statement. “But before I was a tool, I was, and am, a human. Back then, we really didn’t have an option but to fight and kill. And I am, right now, fortunate enough, to be born with a choice. And this is my choice.”

I want to fight.

“It might be because of Sukuna’s revival.” Kakashi flipped a page. “The curses have been very active lately, and they kept multiplying. At least with me, I’ll have no trouble finding and exorcising them before they do anything substantial.”

Ah yes, Kakashi and his pinging like a curse-attraction ability. The reason why Haibara managed to escape being offed because of his brother acting as a distraction when they discovered, to their dismay, that the curse was not in fact a low-level one, but rather a 1^st Grade.  Something he knew that the juniors, especially, Nanami, for he remembered his grave yet relieved expression after that mission, was deeply thankful for.

Satoru has to marvel over his brother’s absolutely abhorrent luck; he went on that particular mission with the 2^nd Years at the time as his very first assignment --Satoru may have a hand in it; it would be better if Kakashi has some guidance regarding the ins and outs of Jujutsu-related incidents and may or may not have bullied his underclassmen into accepting his arrangement. Their mission was supposed to exorcise a simple 2^nd Grade and is located quite far off from the urban district; perfect, Satoru had thought during that moment, his brother would be far away from prying eyes while he tries to adjust to his new unhindered condition under the care of in-training sorcerers. And Kakashi would also be able to get started on some sightseeing while he was at it. Satoru felt it was a well-off yet simple plan.

It ended with his brother in the infirmary for cursed energy inflammation with second-degree burns on his arms, while both Nanami and Haibara have suffered some minor lacerations, though the latter has large dark bruises splotching his neck and face.

“Nanami. Haibara.” The two stood to attention at Satoru’s serious tone as he confronted them in front of the medical facility. “Whatever you saw today of my brother’s techniques, keep quiet about it.”

“I assume you have your reasons,” Nanami stated to which Satoru hummed. “And I can guess.”

Haibara looked between the two with confusion, his unbandaged eye wide. “Wait, Nanami, can you please explain it to me? I’m a little slow after all…” At Haibara’s request, Nanami let out a sigh, before glancing at his classmate with a pointed scowl.

“Because Gojo Kakashi’s techniques weren’t based on cursed energy at all.”

Kakashi has told him about chakra, and the basis of its principles. After he explained that it was basically the harmony between cursed energy and reverse energy, it would explain why Kakashi’s own reserves were so potent. Satoru has sharp eyes, you see, and with his ability, he observed properly at his brother’s unhindered signature that flared so brightly his retinas hurt.

The more Kakashi described to him about it, the more it made sense to him. The Gojo clan’s techniques were basically the closest thing you can get to chakra manipulation in the past millennium, as Hollow Purple was essentially the optimised use of cursed and reversed technique together with his Limitless. He wondered if, no matter how ludicrous the notion was, whether it was fate that has brought his brother to be reborn in the clan which has certain bonds to his time.

Kakashi has two distinct reserves; chakra and cursed energy –two similar yet also different signatures, that can be diverge or converge with each other. Chakra can be broken down into cursed energy and vice versa. The theory was simple and there, but trying to apply and maintain it was nigh difficult, as Kakashi found out. It was easier for him to mould cursed energy from chakra, but not the reverse. It took a lot of precise control and concentration, and Satoru could understand why; the usage of reversed technique by itself already required a lot of attention from sorcerers on its own –which was why only a few people were able to produce it, but stacking more cursed energy onto an already demanding output and trying to converge them together---

It was a whole different story. Though not impossible, as evident by his Hollow Purple.

And Kakashi has a whole innate reserve of them.

Satoru could only envision the beasts that has existed in his brother’s era (and this was coming from a monster such as himself as well). When he told Kakashi this, he has responded with an unimpressed expressionless gaze, arching an eyebrow. “There were some ridiculous people,” he admitted, “But I can assure you, Satoru, you will still be able to stand up to your title. None of us can practically recycle our energy infinitely after all or be indefinitely untouchable. Oh, don’t be so smug.” He rolled his eyes when Satoru preened at his acknowledgement.

Still, if Kakashi wanted to keep a relatively low profile and not draw too much more unnecessary attention from the higher-ups, it was better for him to practice moulding his cursed energy and techniques, and not be too reliant on his chakra. They were getting there; after a long series of broken weapons, singed clothes, and explosions, they were getting there.

On official records, Gojo Kakashi was nothing more than a Semi 1st Grade Sorcerer. Nothing was more fearful than the unknown after all, and Satoru thought that it would be better off if some of his brother’s abilities are kept off. They were always running thin on Jujutsu sorcerers anyway, so Kakashi has no problem going on missions solo as if he has a personal vendetta against them.

Chakra. Cursed Energy. An unidentified cursed being.

And these have not considered yet what his eyes can do.

Satoru has no qualms, that if assessed properly, the Jujutsu world would label Kakashi as a Special Grade. And that is a can of worms he was not willing to deal with right now. The higher-ups tend to deal with the unknown or risky threats via execution; as evident with Okkutsu-kun and Yuuji, there were no doubts that they would make the Gojo’s clan treatments of his brother looked like paradise. Or if there were any empathy and compassion left inside the old bastards’ shriveled hearts, Kakashi would be kept strictly under supervision with a dealer of their choice, chains on his hands and feet. Already they were weary of Kakashi and his inability of properly control his extraordinarily large reservoir of cursed energy and treated him as if he was a defective ticking time-bomb, but since technically he was under Satoru’s care and political protection, they could not do anything substantial towards him.

Satoru hated cowards like them; those were too wary and quick to snuff but remained throned looking down upon others as they fiddled about in the dark. The Three Main Clans were of the same traditional mindset; change, they think, would only bring nothing but problematic consequences to the balance of the Jujutsu world, and continue to believe in their traditional ways to be superior. This was why they were having problems in adapting to the onslaught of power shifts of the new generation and in the aftermath of the ensuing landslide, would blame anybody but themselves.

Geto Suguru’s invasion last year. The appearance of Sukuna’s vessel.

An impending storm was coming, threatening to swallow the world whole.

That was why Satoru must prepare his students for the worst.

“I’ll leave food in the fridge.” Kakashi was saying when Satoru snapped back to reality. “Make sure to eat.”

“I should be saying that to you,” Satoru grunted, knowing Kakashi ran on pure caffeine and glucose during assignments. No wonder he was so thin. Such a deceitful appearance to the strength that lay within such willowy limbs. As if to emphasize his point, he pinched his brother’s thigh, pulling not much flesh.

“Don’t sulk.” A hard poke to his cheek, which made Satoru huffed even more. “I’ll make it up to you when I get back. How about lunch at that café with the strawberry chocolate crepe? We’ll go to that one.”

“Or somewhere else maybe? I don’t mind. Wherever Satoru picks. We’ll go together.”

Together. Him and his brother.

Satoru pretended to puff his cheek around as if still pouting. Even though he was widely grinning due to the giddiness he now felt. Right. He and his brother. Satoru was not alone. “Fine. But the. Moment. You. Get. Back.” He turned and poked at Kakashi’s chest at each word. “We’re going on a food tour. Around Sapporo.”

His brother raised an eyebrow. “Sapporo? So far away?” He let out a huff when Satoru swatted at him.

“Found some reallyyyy great hot potatoes there earlier.” Satoru waved his hands animatedly, almost knocking away the book his brother was holding. “They had butter on top of them! Nanami had some with shiokara, and he told me they were better that way. Sapporo’s also known for their beer, though I don’t drink, but I’m just telling you that, because you know. Nii-san owns me.” He gave Kakashi his puppy-dog-eyes.

Exhaling, Kakashi merely nodded, not pointing out that the younger was abusing his teleportation technique to make the trip to and fro in a mere day. That would be hypocritical of him after all. “Hai hai.” He gave Satoru another one of his indulging smile, the one that never fails to make him warm inside. (Not alone, not alone)

The two sat there, Kakashi carting his fingers repeatedly in soothing motions while Satoru just basked in his brother’s affection. It was a normal timely arrangement for them, to revere in each other’s company between missions.

Especially after Satoru’s own failures and regrets started haunting him in his sleep.

Kakashi must be more tired than he has let on because he fell asleep first. His fingers went lax in Satoru’s hair, his breathing slowed and heavy. Satoru silently nudged away the drooping book that the other was still holding, before slipping off with ease to go find the blanket that they usually used, turning off all the lights on his way. The paw-printed duvet was folded in its usual spot by the bedroom cabinet. Returning, he then adjusted Kakashi to a better position so that the other would not wake up with a sore neck, covered him with the woolly sheet, before settling back at his spot, a pillow now bracing his head against his brother’s side.

A sleepy smile lingered as he grew drowsier, listening to the dull humming of his Infinity as it protected them both. “Goodnight, nii-nii.” He mumbled, before letting sleep claim him.

(Satoru often says that he hated routines, but if he were truly honest, he wishes that these halcyon days with his brother would never change.)

(A wishful thinking. And Satoru knows it, for deep down in his bones, he understands. That they would not last).

-x-

Omake:

“Ne, Kakashi-san, when Sukuna said that you have a lot of techniques,” Yuuji started, sparkles in his eyes.

“Can you show me one?”

Kakashi thought about it for a moment, then brought his hands up in a seal. “Transformation Technique!”

“How about this?” Kakashi asked lazily, his voice now a soft, feminine tone, whilst his body was that of voluptuous, buxom woman, with only smoke covering the essential parts.

Yuuji screamed, his face brighter than the shade of his strawberry pink hair as he desperately tried not to peek from behind his fingers.

“Nice.” Sukuna grinned from his throne.

Somewhere else, Satoru suddenly felt the need to throttle someone, for he has sensed a disturbance in the force.

‘Nii-nii!’ His instincts shrieked at him. ‘Someone looked at his Nii-Nii!’

-x-

Omake 2:

(August 2007, during Kakashi’s first assignment)

“We split up,” Nanami ultimately decided when the trail went cold. “Here, Gojo-san, we should be able to get reception here despite how far off we are.” He threw a small object at the silver-haired man.

Kakashi caught it with ease but stared at the flip phone as if he has never seen something like it before. “Uh-huh…”

Haibara, ever the kind person, immediately picked up on the older’s distress and peered at him with an encouraging smile. “Is something wrong, Gojo-san?

“I…uh…don’t know how to use…this…”

Both 2^nd Years stilled.

‘…Seriously?’ Nanami and Haibara stared at Kakashi, who has just tried to open the phone the opposite way, and winced at the sound of a concerning 'crack' that came afterward. 

-x-

Omake 3:

“Nii-nii~~ Sing me a lullaby~~”

Kakashi let out on ‘oof’ when Satoru jumped upon him.

“A lullaby?” He looked down at Satoru’s floofy hair, knowing there was a toothy grin somewhere in there. “But I haven’t sung to you since you were twelve.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Satoru shrugged. “I kinda feel like listening to it. Or maybe Nii-nii doesn’t love me anymore now that I’m no longer small and adorable as I’m used to~” He faked a sob, placing his face in his palms in distress.

He could practically feel Kakashi’s eye-roll. “Alright, alright, you overdramatic bamboo.” Kakashi raised his hands up in defeat, to which the other immediately let out a cheer. Kakashi slightly slapped him on the cheek for that, but undeterred, Satoru made himself comfortable.  

…

‘This was a mistake,’ Satoru thought, wide eyes staring at the walls in front of him as Kakashi continued to count sheep in his deep drawls. He could feel his heart racing. ‘I can’t sleep like this. This is the exact opposite of sleep!’

‘This Inoue Kazuhiko’s voiceeeeeeeee.’

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: Roar of Thunder (Shattered Soul)

(September 2018. Yokohama city, Kanagawa Prefecture)

Patpatpatpatpatpatpat

The sounds of footsteps upon metal. Heavy panting that echoed all over the empty silence of the warehouse, dimmed with only the hanging overhead lights. Darting through and between the multitude of shipping containers proved to be futile, for he could feel that his pursuer was unyielding in giving up the chase. The shadows seemed to jump at him, grabbing at his already frazzled nerves.

A quick and easy job, his client has purred, dangling in his face the prospect of hefty blood money. And he was confident in his own ability, not too unwilling to dirty his hands, use the non-sorcerers for his own gains. His target was supposed to be weak, a lamb just waiting to be slaughtered.

The tables have turned.

“You bastard-!” The words that were started as a taunt quickly turned into a garbled, wet slurp as, from the cover of the maddening darkness, there was a flicker of shining metal, and the curse user found his throat bare and shredded even when he has pulled up his cursed energy in defence.

He grabbed at his throat, feeling his own blood choking him and the skin flayed. His knees hit the bare concrete and the last thing he experienced was the distant sound of a tweeting bird and the baleful bare of a demonic crimson guiding him down to the underworld.

Kakashi flicked the blood away from his blade, an edge of weariness settling in his limbs.

Mission complete.

As a semi 1^st Grade sorcerer, he found himself being called out on missions often. The workload was so immense and there were rarely any breaks; it reminded him of the war-torn days of Konoha, where any available personnel who were not lying down from chakra exhaustion or heavy injuries were immediately sent out again to make up for the lack of forces.

Except this one has no finish line, no hopes of seeing the end of the race.

Satoru was no doubt concerned about him, despite his outwardly carefree attitude. What kind of a person so eager to go back into a world of bloodshed and death after managing to escape it? But Kakashi knew the feeling of having such a lifetime haunting him to the ends of his days, which no escape. He was already tainted and experienced to the cold desolate feeling of taking one’s life away and being on the brink of deaths multiple times. In his mind, it was better to sharpen the old blade if it was still unbroken, rather than bringing out new ones and ending up with a pile of dull, broken blades altogether.

He shall be the stepping stone for the new generation to take place.

As he cleaned and stored away his weapon, his mind reeled back to the boy he has met a couple of days ago. Itadori Yuuji. A sweet, kind boy, pulled into a situation where he was tossed about with none of the strings being controlled by him. A bright, cheerful smile, still founded with a certain naivety, grounded with unrelenting convictions.

A painful reminiscent. An unfair, unwarranted comparison. Yuuji was his own unique person, and yet, Kakashi could not help but remember.

Obito. Kakashi stared down at his hand. He placed it on his chest, feeling the steady beating of his heart.

Sukuna has said that he has sensed another one, a dormant one. He was right in his observation; other than the day that he has assimilated into Kakashi, he has not shown since his presence. Kakashi himself could sense him, could feel him somewhere residing inside the dark cresses of his mind and heart, but not once has he made himself known, though his influences on Kakashi were more than apparent.

His predicament was a slightly different one than that of Okkotsu Yuta-kun, a student who joined last year, who too was hunted by the death of his beloved. His lover, Rika, when manifested, was so powerful to the point of being a threat to Yuta and the others, immediately both being labelled as Special Grades. A lot of things have happened since then, but at the end of it, Kakashi and Satoru found out that they have a newly acquired great great cousin-or-something added to the family.

While Kakashi was glad to meet a kindred spirit in Yuta, who was a nice, sometimes timid, generally frank (mostly towards Satoru), though easy to tease kid to mess with, the whole situation with Rika finally instilled it in Kakashi to finally question. Why has it that Obito himself have not manifested in front of even Kakashi, not even a glimpse or a word, unless those fevered moments in his dreams counted.

“Maybe a binding vow?” His younger brother has suggested, his bright cerulean eyes staring at him with apt vigour. As always, he has no concept of personal space, for he has leaned in close enough that Kakashi could practically see his reflection in those orbs and the count of his snowy lashes. “You were mumbling to yourself that day, half-delirious. Perhaps you were making a contract with the curse.”

“You mean…”

“That this Obito would only show himself under certain criteria? Yes.”

Binding vows are considered by all cursed energy users to be one of the essential tenants of jujutsu sorcery. They are essentially contracts created through cursed energy that an individual can make with oneself or another person. The act of abiding by the rules and restrictions agreed upon in these contracts can result in a greater power or the achievement of a goal, but breaking a binding vow has uncanny repercussions.

Did Obito intentionally set himself up for one with Kakashi?

“Why would he do that?” The words were uttered softly under his breath, but of course Satoru heard them anyway.

His younger brother fidgeted a bit, which meant that he knew the answer for that question and was contemplating whether to tell him or not. “I think…” He clicked his tongue, letting the words draw out. “I think it might be because he really doesn’t want to intrude on your life any further than he has to. Might be due to guilt, might be self-punishment.”

Sensing the downward spiral of his brother’s mood, Satoru clasped an arm around Kakashi to distract him, his tone upbeat. “In any case, there’s nothing we can do about it. No one can break a binding vow. Only time will tell. So, anyway, there’s this maid café at—“

Taking a deep breath, Kakashi took out his phone, squinting his eyes through the bright light to see the time. 5:05 in the evening. Great. He hoped Ijichi was free and would be able to pick him up before the end of his shift. He was feeling rather drained, and he was not really in the mood to be cramp with the civilians on public transports while trying to go back to the school. He fumbled a bit with his phone –now a smartphone, gee, technology sure has advanced fast in this era—trying to work through the bothersome touchscreen feature to finally open his contacts.

Ijichi Kiyotaka.

Tap.

He listened to the calling melody, thinking absent-mindedly about a nice, hot meal and an even nicer, hotter bath. As well as remembering his promise to Satoru, something about hot potatoes that the other was yammering about.

Ring…Ring…Ri--

“A-Ah, G-Gojo-san--!” Ijichi’s panicked tone immediately erase any sort of drowsiness from Kakashi’s being.

“What’s wrong?”

-x-

(Satozakura High. Kawasaki city, Kanagawa Prefecture)

“I’ll kill you.”

Never before does Yuuji has included the word nor the need to erase another being. But now…

Mahito’s laugh was like nails on a chalkboard as he tormented and play with Yuuji’s emotions and hatred, thinking to take advantage of his high state of emotions.

[Kill]

Whatever it takes.

Slash. Slam.

However, the disparity between skills was apparent. Despite Yuuji’s pure aim to [kill], he could not reach it. The cursed spirit, with countless human blood on his hands, included Junpei, in spite of tangling with his [natural enemy], was easily able to shrug off Yuuji’s attacks like it was nothing. Numerous times he was able to slide through the teenager’s defences, easily aiming through his weak spots.

“Nanamin--!”

Nanami came in just in turn to deflect Mahito’s improvised meat club at Yuuji’s head, the two parties backing away from each other. After the older asked of the current situation, Yuuji lamented his failure to protect some of the civilians, to which Nanami has bluntly told him to focus on himself, for if he was to fall, then there will no one to protect the rest of the students. Drips of blood streamed down the teenager’s injured palms, fingers quivering.

Soft. Naïve. Weak-willed. Everything a Jujutsu sorcerer could not afford to be. The patch-face curse knew of the teenager’s inability to kill fellow humans, so he has used his leftover transfigured humans to separate Sukuna’s vessel from the 7:3 technique user, easily overpowering even him.

…There are some realities that Jujutsu sorcerers must come to term with. That they cannot save everyone, and that sometimes, certain sacrifices must be made.

These, Itadori Yuuji, knew, but have never accepted himself. Expectations over reality.

Today, however, he was finally able to distinguish them.

Fighting the Special Grade was still difficult, a herculean feat even with the two of them, the bastard as slippery as an eel. They needed to tip the scales somehow.

“…Backup, Itadori-kun.”

“Huh? I mean, yeah, we kinda do need help but—“

Nanami cut him off with a deep sigh, steering him to the left.

“…That too. But back up, please.”

Thunder rumbled.

With a sharp boom of a thunderclap, a giant dragon made from water blasted into Patch-face seemingly from out of nowhere. It caught the curse off-guard, and with a magnificent roar, it dragged him in its maw to slam viciously into a wall of the school building, which exploded, bringing up a heavy torrent of dirt and chunks of rubble to rain upon him. The dragon must have been enforced with electricity as well, for it left behind a trail of crackling blue, filling the air with enough static to make the hair on Yuuji’s head stood on ends.

A familiar experience.

“Excessive as always, that idiot.” Nanami grunted.

-x-

(August 2007. In a remote village)

“The villagers have not been helpful at all,” Haibara repeated in his dejection, as they all met near the junction nearby the outside of the village. They had tried for hours going from houses to houses, trying to weave out information regarding the curse that they have to exorcise, but the villagers were surprisingly tight-lipped about it. Every question that they asked was met with resistance and distrustful glare, as if they were the monsters instead, trying to pick up stray sheep from the flock.

Nanami sneaked a glance at their newly acquired sorcerer, who was studying the canopy of the trees with a yearning expression. The silver-haired man, three years their senior in age, reached over to brush his fingers over one of the misshapen-trunks, which had a distortion of unintelligible marks all over it, as if an animal had sharpened its claws upon it. His oversized grey hoodie was dampened with the summer weather, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms.

The 2^nd year rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming.

Not only did they have to exorcise a curse located in the middle of nowhere, one that was showing to be a really troublesome one, but Gojo-senpai was making them babysit as well? Ridiculous. Never mind that the man was Gojo Satoru’s apparent brother (and really, that man has been hiding an older brother all this time? Even more absurd). And why had Yaga-sensei even approved of letting the man go with them as his first assignment? When the man has apparently no combat experience regarding curse exorcism at all?

To say that Nanami does not like this arrangement at all was an understatement of the century. Life at school was already a hectic mess one after another, to the point where the higher-ups had to deploy the students to go on high-ranked missions as well instead of relying on the veterans due to how little in numbers they were. Not to mention that there were only him and Haibara in their year, which made bothersome assignments ever more of a hassle to complete, especially since their seniors were Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru and their tendency to dump their after-missions messes on their juniors (hint: Nanami and Haibara).  

Then out of the blue, Gojo-senpai brought his brother to Jujutsu Tech for a meet-up with Shoko, their one and only resident healer, for treatment for his condition that made him unable to properly manifest his cursed energy. Okay then, Nanami was fine with that, as long as he did not get in his way, because one Gojo was already a hassle in life to deal with, Nanami cannot fathom if he has to handle two of them. Thus, he was more than happy to avoid said brother while he was on school grounds, ignoring the gossip vine.

Until last week when the younger Gojo practically shoved his brother into his and Haibara’s faces with a damnable smirk and jubilant tone that was as infuriating as always.

“He’ll be in your care for your next mission~” He crooned in the face of three equally puzzled expressions. Gojo Kakashi blinked owlishly at them, mask crinkling with a tiny, make-shift smile even as he shoved a sharp elbow into Gojo-senpai’s ribs, who gave out a dramatic bellow.

While he was recollecting all of this, he was permitting an aura of gloom and doom, unknowingly glowering down at Kakashi, who was sitting down in one of the train seats as he stared with unwavering interest at the zooming scenery outside. Out of habit and mission anxiety, Nanami and Haibara have opted to stand; surprisingly, there were only a few other patrons on their carriage, which made the feeling of not being cramped like a tin of sardine a much welcome change.

Haibara, of course, who was intensely friendlier and outgoing than Nanami could ever hope to be, immediately has taken to talking to Kakashi like an old friend, and, while both of them have been baffled by the man’s lack of technological knowledge (Oh kami, the amused stares they have got when Kakashi acted as if he has never ride a train before), his classmate has tried so hard to teach Kakashi the basics of living in a growing metropolis like Tokyo. In exchange for Haibara’s friendliness, Kakashi himself had been quite courteous and polite, literally the opposite of the embodiment of what Gojo Satoru had stood for, telling them bits of his isolated life at the Gojo clan’s compound and his ailments.

“And still you want to become a Jujutsu sorcerer?!” Haibara has whisper-exclaimed – they were in public, riding a train after all, shock evident in his tone and posture. Nanami can understand his confusion, even optimistic Haibara himself sometimes admitted, in his moments of sobriety, that the life of a sorcerer is nothing but suffering, a walking hell on Earth. That was the main reason why he had forbidden his younger sister from ever coming to Jujutsu Tech after all, despite that she also can see curses.

A sense of obligations and money; the stipends they receive even as students were quite well-off that he can support his family on that alone.

An invisible, yet effective chains shackled them.

Nanami cannot criticize him for staying. His own personal reasons ran along the same lines as well.

Gojo Kakashi, on the other hand…

There was absolutely no reason for him to be involved in Jujutsu mess. He could have spent the rest of his life spending his time in splendour activities that those civilians like to do, or move to another, quieter country, that has no curses to be worried about while reading books and staring at the beach.

Either this man was a complete daft, has a serious hero complex, with one of those ludicrous convictions that he wanted to save the innocents, or a poor pawn made to benefit the Jujutsu higher-ups.

And Gojo Kakashi certainly does not exactly look like he can handle the workload that comes with being a sorcerer; he was much too pale, and those thin, slender fingers looked out of place when he had gripped a tanto (which he had somehow concealed in the helm of his sleeve). He had also look so malnourished that Nanami had even given up a piece of his precious bread, one of three that he has managed to snatch up at his favourite bakery after hours of waiting.

“Do not misunderstand,” Nanami said, as Kakashi tilted his head at the offering, “I’m only doing this because I don’t want you to pass out or something in the middle of our mission. It would be a pain to carry you after all.”

He purposely ignored the waggle of Haibara’s eyebrows and the mischievous jabs at his ribs.

“Wow, Gojo!” Haibara started because he absolutely cannot keep his mouth shut. He slung an arm around his cranky classmate’s hunched shoulders. “Nanami’s usually a cheapskate when it comes to his precious bread. He hoards those like a dragon! Well, personally, I like rice better--”

“Don’t complain, I don’t have anything else for you.” Nanami grouched to Kakashi, while slapping off Haibara’s pushy hands, his classmate retreating with a poutful smile. “Also don’t insult it either; it’s from my favourite bakery and they’re the best. Anyone who says otherwise is a worthless piece of dumb shit with no taste.”

In the background, Haibara made exaggerated motions, groaning something about Nanami “ruining his chances”.

“I see,” the Gojo’s eyes curled into a makeshift smile, midnight lashes a stark contrast to the rest of him. “Then I’ll be sure to return this favour, Nanami-san. And I trust in your judgement concerning the deliciousness of this bun.” He let out a melodious laugh, one that struck Nanami deep because he has not expected to get such a pleasant reaction for his admitted rudeness.

Feeling a bit too warm, the 2^nd Year turned away, muttering something about the summer heat getting to him. That sentiment however fizzled out when Haibara continued to waggle his eyebrows at him in such repeatedly idiotic motions that Nanami opted to ‘accidentally’ deck him in his ribs when the train lurched.

…

“All right,” Nanami said, breathing out a little too heavily after Kakashi handed back the broken phone to him with an embarrassed smile. Not that he could see it with the mask the other has on his face.

Ridiculous. Absurd.

“Gojo can go with you then, Haibara.” The blond-haired 2^nd Year instructed, to which the darker-haired student let out an excited ‘whoop!’, grabbing Kakashi by his hands and swinging him around like they were on a carousel ride. The older did not protest, did not even look surprised or taken aback; Nanami reckoned that he was used to being manhandled often. He was the brother of Gojo-senpai after all, who was not exactly known to respect one’s boundary.

“Nanami-san will be going alone?” Kakashi asked once they stopped spinning, to which the other affirmed with a stoic nod.

“I reckon we should scout out near the mountainside.” Nanami raised an interested brow at the suggestion, a silent request for Kakashi to elaborate. “A village like this tends to hide its secrets amongst the woods. They’re not being unfriendly for nothing.”

“I kinda agree with him, Nanami.” Haibara acknowledged, swiping a bead of sweat from his brow. “It would explain the villagers’ behaviour as well. Though they can be wary of outsiders, even they’re usually much friendlier and hospitable than this.” Haibara grew up in a small village, so Nanami can take his word for it.

“Plus,” Kakashi chipped in, with a wave of his hand, “There’s a hidden path somewhere behind the Head Chief’s house.” He was met with curious stares from the youngers. “I saw tracks earlier. They try to hide it but eh, well, there are some things that human beings can’t completely erase.”

“Like?”

“Scents.” The silver-haired man answered, casting a hooded eye over the village, where some of the inhabitants were peeking at them from behind their windows. “There’s something well rotten in these woods. The curse we’re looking for can’t be too far off.”

Shit shit shit.

Nanami panted in exertion, muscles protesting and burning even as he pushed himself deeper into the darkness of the woods. Following the trail of miasma and stench of rotten flesh the moment the threshold of the curse’s boundary was reached.

This was not a fucking Second Grade at all.

The curse, an eldritch combination of a Venus flytrap and a Huntsman spider, its tangly limbs reaching over the span of ten metres, equipped with claws sharp enough to strip meat from bones. Pores of its influence erupted throughout the woods, creating sprouts of plants that try to bite at his passing body. And they were directly in the heart of its domain, the forest. A whole goddamn deity, so integrated into the lands that it was able to seize control of the entire area of the woods.

And it was near the day of its worshipping as well, which contributed more towards its level of violence and bloodlust, its now acquired desire for a sacrifice driving it forward for its next tasty meal.

“Haibara! Gojo!” He called out to his companions, receiving no response. Despite his desire to calm his racing heart, Nanami cursed to himself under his panicked breath, wilfully going forward through the messes of thorny bushes and twisted trees. To where the congregation of cursed energy was the heaviest.

There, in the torn, damaged clearing that now exists amidst the destruction of destroyed trees and shifting masses of earth. A parody of a shrine greeted the newcomers, old and unbecoming, lit lighting of orange emitting from lanterns on the moss-covered stone paths splotched with a dry patchwork of blood and crushed human bones, some that still had bits of flesh still clinging to them.

Kakashi’s silvery white hair reflected the moonlight as he posed his tanto in a defensive stance before snapping fangs, the sleeve of his right torn and shredded into ribbons of fabric.

And Haibara—

Nanami’s heart leapt to his throat, and he quickly rushed over to check on him, exorcising the abomination of a flower that loomed over him with razor teeth. He turned him over; the slow rise and fall of his classmate’s chest a very welcoming sight. Haibara was unconscious, perhaps thrown down with extreme force, the crack in the stone slab beneath him a tell-tale sign. His hairline was matted with blood, a particularly nasty gash that adorned his left temple leaking crimson over his brow and eyelid.

“Nanami-san,” the Gojo’s light-hearted tone was all but gone; a deep, low growl now reverberated over the sound of rushing blood in his ears. Nimble fingers clenched around a handle of a blood-soaked tanto, flickering with cursed energy. “Please take Haibara-san away from here.”

“What?” Nanami could not hide the incredulity in his voice even as he draped one of his classmate’s limp arm over his shoulder. Haibara let out a pained moan, though he was still knocked out. “And what about you?”

“I’m staying.”

“Are you out of your mind--?” Nanami ducked a clawed swipe, using his own weapon to parry the writhing flesh away. His 7:3 technique struck the spider in one of its patellae, dismembering it. The roar the creature unleashed over the loss of its limb was earth-trembling. Nanami almost lost his hold on Haibara and readjusted his grip.

Kakashi cut down several of the approaching legs with blades of wind summoned with the swings of his tanto. His technique? But Nanami has sensed no formation of cursed energy in the other, though he felt a quite familiar essence akin to it. Seeing that the blonde has still not moved, the glare that the Gojo threw at Nanami was sharp and deep, the grey irises of his eyes eclipsing the black. “I know what I’m doing! Now go! I’ll hold it back!” Sensing more rapid scurrying behind him, the Gojo managed to avoid being entangled within a net of vine that the curse swerved at him with a roll, using his tanto to sweep through the torrent. The arachnid snapped at him impatiently, beady eyes glinting in the darkness. It leapt upwards onto the trees, creating breaks amongst the hanging over branches. “Don’t worry, I can’t die until I repay you for that delicious melon-pan you gave me after all.”

“Gojo, you’re —“ ‘Fucking crazy’ was what Nanami wanted to bluntly shout, but he had to throw himself to the left to avoid the organic blade that came down upon him in an attempt to slice him in half. Seeing this, Kakashi darted forward, conjuring up more flames to draw the attention away from the 2^nd Years, the ember striking up an engulfing inferno that incensed several of the monstrous spider being’s legs. Against its natural enemy, the curse retreated, its fangs snapping impatiently as its beady eyes regarding its prey through the wall of fire separating them.

An opening to withdraw. Haibara’s blood continued to drip onto his shoulder.

As he released his umpteenth swear of the night, Nanami bit back the heavy feeling of guilt and readjusted his hold on Haibara so that he lay properly on his back, hoisting up his legs.

“Don’t die, Gojo.” Nanami warned, brows furrowed as deep as they have ever been. “Or else.”

Kakashi laughed.

The air was suddenly heavy with cursed energy, dragging gravity down with its intensity. Nanami stumbled beneath the sudden bearing but gritted his teeth, forcing his legs to continue moving forward, even as he felt as if he was being crushed by the abrupt change in pressure. The surrounding temperature seemed to increase even more than just the influence of the summer night weather.

The curse screeched at his retreating form, but its focus was mostly on the Gojo, whose energy signature was shining so brightly that the section of the forest was glowing with an acidic, ethereal blue.

Birds. Birds. There was one, then two, then hundreds. A thousand screeches.

‘Now?’ Nanami thought, and he risked a glance over his shoulder, even as he frantically darted forward through the fray of buds blooming in his path, mowing down stray flowers that snapped at his feet.

He was quite a distance away when the Heavens ruptured above him, a pillar of light that blinded everything in the area. An explosion like a sonic boom that sent a shockwave throughout the woods, propelling him forward several metres. Regaining his footing, Nanami looked back. The trees were set ablaze, their burning leaves setting off branches of grey fumes, wreaths of steam rising from the scorched earth. The dark sky lit up with cresses of rolling thunder and clouds, swirling with malice, churning with unspoken fury. Buzzing and hissing, they trembled with the anger of being shackled to the sky since time began. A swell of cursed energy resonated through the carnage, and Nanami could feel the influence of the creature upon the land dispersing, like smoke in the wind.

A local deity, fuelled by the community faith.

And it was struck down by the Gods themselves.

-x-

If craziness was a needed requirement for a Jujutsu Sorcerer, then Gojo Kakashi would fit right in.

-x-

There was the distinctly familiar scent of the ozone, and the twittering sounds of the birds.

“Yo, Yuuji-kun, Kento-kun.” With a shimmering trail of icy blue, Gojo Kakashi greeted them with a cheerful wave. Jumping off from the roof he was standing on, he landed before the two sorcerers with feline grace, the helm of his coat fluttering in the wind.

Itadori was the first to snap himself out of his stupor. “K-Kakashi-san!” He said in relief at the backup, before, when taking a proper second look, asked in a deadpan manner, “What’s with that getup?”

Kakashi-san was wearing an olive green, high-necked hooded windbreaker jacket that reached past his waist, and Yuuji knew that it was something that his sensei would be glad about. What was peculiar was that the older Gojo was also wearing a pair of dark-tinted glasses, almost the same kind that Gojo-sensei has sometimes worn during Yuuji’s training sessions. This, combined with the medical mask that he was wearing, made it difficult to see anything of his face.

You looked very suspicious, Kakashi-san! Yuuji thought, sweat-dropping as the silver-haired man tilted his head in puzzlement at his query.

“Gojo-shi,” Yuuji glanced at the other adult, who looked as impassive as ever. Nanami flicked his wrapped blade, shoulders tensed even as he approached closer with careful, even steps. The way he addressed at Kakashi-san was almost the same as when he was with Gojo-sensei; with mild irritation and contempt. “Why are you here?”

“Aw, what’s with that tone, Kento? I even came straight here after finishing up my own mission. Ijichi was quite worried for the two of you, you see, so he delightfully notified me when I called him to pick me up. I was concerned too, you know…. Oh, you’re mad that I used— “He stopped to sidestep a large slab of concrete that flew before him.

“Oi oi, what’s this?” Emerging from the pile of wreckage, cranking the joint in his neck, the cursed spirit gave a grin so wide his teeth was showing. There was a welcoming glint in his eyes as he sang jovially, a pitch out of tune. “More sorcerers to toy with~~?”

Metal shone as the Gojo pulled out a kunai, the weapon poised in a defensive manner. “Report status.” His voice was hard as steel, with none of its previous frivolity.

“Special Grade. Close range is risky as his unique technique involves the manipulation of the ‘soul’, and he’s able to distort his body to extensive shapes and range. Guarding against his technique, even with cursed energy, is ineffective. My technique does not work on him.” He paused. “Itadori Yuuji-kun however, was able to significantly damage him.” Kakashi mulled over his words.

“Any injuries?”

“On me, nothing substantial. Itadori-kun have lacerations on his palms.” A heavy exhale. “And multiple holes in his body.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine--!” He clammed up when the silver-haired man grabbed both his hands, turning them over to look at the damage.

“Hold still.” Kakashi ordered him, and Yuuji simply nodded as the man’s own palms hovered over his own, emitting a faint glow of green aura. There was a faint sting before, to Yuuji’s amazement, the gashes began to close, the skin stitching itself together until not even a sliver of a scar was left.

“I can’t do anything about the holes in your body for now, but,” Kakashi-san reached behind him, presumably to get to the bigger pouch attached to his waist. He pulled out a small, brown sack, tinier than his palm, which he opened and pulled out a round pill.

“D-Drugs?” Yuuji gasped while Kakashi chuckled listlessly at his exclamation.

“Hmm, not quite. These are not as good as I’ll like them to be, but they’ll help you cope with the blood loss.” Yuuji made quite an entertaining expression to behold when he swallowed the medicine, looking like he might just die from the extreme bitterness. Ah well, Kakashi can relate. The good stuff does not always taste great anyway.

“Nanami,” Kakashi regarded the vigilant blonde with a tilt of his chin, “As Yuuji-kun’s the only one who can harm the curse, I suppose you and I should take on a more supportive role. Create as many openings as we can. How does that sound?”

“Solid.”

“Yuuji-kun,” Kakashi reached up and pulled his glasses away, tucking it away in one of the pockets that adorned his jacket. “You haven’t fought alongside me before, but,”

“If you see an opportunity, no matter what’s in your way, strike.”

Mahito regarded the newcomer with interest.

Even through the silvery strands that covered the sorcerer’s face and that laughable face-covering –what do the humans use them for again? For medical reasons? – the cursed spirit can distinguish the sudden change in the other eyes.

A pair of scarlet irises stared back at him, an omen of the damned, a beacon of misfortune. But the otherworldly colour themselves, though of stunning splendour they may be, were not the sole reason why he has observed closely into the red void, nor was it due to the three magatamas swirling in those seas of crimson, rotating slowly around his pupils.

Not, it was the man’s [Soul]. The shape of it. The feel of it; like someone has seamlessly melded two pieces of antiquities together to form something even grander, something greater.

Interesting. There are two of them.  

Licking his lips, he regenerated his fractured wrist, newly formed muscles snapping into place. Flexing his fingers however, informed him of the nature of the sorcerer’s strike, each appendage twitching slowly into movement under his control.

Kakashi’s attack has severely hinder Mahito’s speed and mobility, the paralysing effects gripping the nerves of his mortal-shaped limbs. The paralysis would dissipate in due time, but in the prospect of the incoming battle with now three against one, Mahito could be compelled to be on the defensive instead while he tried to accelerate his recovery.

How inconvenient, but regardless, only Sukuna’s vessel would be able to hurt him anyway, so the curse was not too worried. For now, he’ll just focus on disposing of the other two maggots so he can get Itadori Yuuji alone again.

So when the silver-haired man threw more of his metal weapons at him, laced with more of that crackling thunderous essence, Mahito stayed rooted in his spot, eluding just enough so they merely nicked him, hurling a cheeky smile back at the humans.

At the first drop of blood, the battle resumed.

A huff escaped unbiddenly from Yuuji’s chapped lips.

Kakashi-san fights with literally the opposite of his behaviour in a situation of mundanity, the typical sleepiness and lethargy that Yuuji has associated with the older Gojo were all have disappeared in the face of an enemy. Every movement was calculated and lithe, though not without power, as evident when a blow to the curse’s arm tossed him several feet back. The kunai he held in his right was used to block whatever deadly appendages the curse has conjured up in every odd nook and crook on his body, the man effortlessly deflecting them away, dodging gracefully between each Mahito’s attempt to behead him. The lightning nature of his technique was not only good at paralysing his opponent, but it was also deadly sharp as well, for Kakashi-san easily sliced through an extension that protruded from Mahito’s side like a hot knife upon butter.

He knew that he has to bear witness to such fighting grace before when Sukuna has challenged him, but honestly, he could not exactly remember, everything that occurs in the outside world when Yuuji was in Sukuna’s Shrine became murky and disconnected, so he was not really able to figure out exactly what has gone on during Kakashi’s scuffle with Sukuna.

Nanamin was also impressive, keeping up with the momentum that Kakashi has set with ease, backing up Kakashi’s strikes with one of his own. Whenever the curse was blocking Kakashi-san's attack, the 7:3 sorcerer immediately followed up with his technique on the occupied limb; Mahito backed away with a wobbling elbow joint, a grimaced grin adorning his patched face. The opposite was the same; lightning surged when Mahito tried to take advantage in an opening, a hand freezing inches away from Nanami's stomach from the shock. Yuuji wondered if they both have worked numerous times together, for their display of choreography was almost flawless.

The sound of metal hitting metal was overbearing, echoing hollowly throughout the school. 

In direct physical combat, Yuuji knew he has the upper hand, for he was naturally gifted with his fists due to his absurd strength. He could, and have, with ease, break through even layers of concrete. And he knew that he would put every single effort he has to put the damn curse down. But in the midst of flurried movements, he was having trouble trying to barge in the tumble of limbs and fatal weaponry, lest he accidentally hit either of his fellow soccerers. And Yuuji’s punches hurt. He kept hesitating, only lingering outside the reaches of the raging battle, blood rushing in his ears.

Just even a little slipup would cause them.

‘Wait, Nanamin!’ Yuuji thought in a panic, as Nanamin’s wrapped blade moved closer to strike Kakashi-san’s head.

“Fools!” The screeching bark of laughter erupted from the curse as Mahito said gleefully, “You’re willing to strike down your own ally in hope of incapacitating me? You must be more desperate than I thought—“

SLAM. Splat.

The cursed spirit’s words were cut off with a horrible splatter of blood, that now were unwittingly coughed from his mouth when the 7:3 sorcerer’s technique made contact.

“H-How?” Mahito spit out the iron-tainted matter, now forced on the defensive as Kakashi continued his visceral assaults, lightning-coated kunai cutting deep as his exposed weak points. The Gojo vaulted himself over Nanami, using the momentum to fuel his kick, sending the curse back a considerable distance. A thrust then disintegrated the joint in his shoulder, and he withdrew, keeping up his own regenerative efforts to combat the unrelenting attacks.

“That’s…?” Frozen with amazement, Yuuji has slid to a halt, watching the sparks that flew from Kakashi’s weapons meeting that of Mahito’s bladed forms. From his clear view, he has seen what has just transpired, though still in disbelief. Now that he was hyperaware of it, he forced himself to observe more closely at the sorcerer’s rapid movements, almost too fast to keep up with the naked eye.

His senses did not deceive him. One of the curse’s scythe-shaped extensions slipped directly through the chuck of Kakashi’s forearm, leaving not a trace of impact nor damage. Sometimes through his thighs. Once his abdomen, Mahito’s hand passing through harmlessly. As if Kakashi-san himself was not really there. Almost a figment of a hallucination, ungrounded by reality.

He threw a wide-eyed, inquisitive gape at Nanami, who adjusted his glasses.

“Itadori-kun, please heed Gojo-shi’s words. Do not hesitate to strike.” Seeing the still baffled expression on the teenager’s face, Nanami appeared to be kinder, apparently understanding his hesitation. It was a simple, yet also difficult order to follow after all, the senses tricking his mind to stop lest he injure a fellow comrade. “Do not fret. It’s one of his techniques. You won’t be able to harm him unless he wants to.”

“Follow my lead. You want to exorcise that damn curse, do you not?”

At Nanami’s words, steely resolve found its way back into Itadori’s eyes.

“R-Roger!”

Nowhere to run. Surrounded by all sides. Only one can truly injure him, but true to their word, the other two did their best to hinder his movements and succeeding.

He tried to dart to the right, an effort that was blocked by whizzing thunder and a blow to his hips.

Ducking beneath a swipe of the 7:3 sorcerer’s hatchet, he attempted to heal himself, but a kick to the face by the masked sorcerer distracted him.

The left struck him in his soul, Itadori Yuuji re-joining the fray, each punch delivered straight to his [Soul].

Thwack. Slam. Slash. Schling. Slice. Whack. Thump. Slam. Thwack. Smack. Slam. Punch. Cut. ThumpSlamSliceSlamSlashSchlingSmackSmackPunchPunch--

A relentless series of attacks.

Ah.

Ah, AH, AHAHAHAHAH—

How exhilarating! How exciting!

More more!

What truly an inspiration!

“Itadori-kun, look out!” At the incursion of cursed energy radiating from the Special Grade, Nanami pushed Yuuji away from him. A distortion of the flesh that enabled it to activate an area of its influence, hand seals formed in the cavern of the curse’s mouth. Reaching maturity and understanding of his technique, the curse finally awakened his Domain Expansion, the most supreme ability of any jujutsu user. By using a barrier technique to create a separate space, the user can realize their innate domain with cursed energy and trap their target within it.

Nanami was pulled in, completely at the mercy of Mahito.

“Shit!” In trepid worry, Yuuji pounded against the sphere of blackness, calling out the other’s name frantically. Even under his tremendous strength, the hard surface coating the outer layer of the Domain Expansion remained solid. Didn’t Gojo-sensei say that any attacks committed in a Domain Expansion will have a 100 percent guaranteed hit rate? If Nanamin is touched by Patch-face, then—

He will die.  

“Wait, Yuuji-kun, save your energy. Leave this to me.” Kakashi-san, who was the furthest away at the time, squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, eyes curved in his signature smile. Taking a deep breath, Yuuji conceded, nodding at the Gojo, who in turn has placed his palm upon the exterior of the sphere, glossy crimson eyes swirling in serious contemplation.

There are numerous countermeasures against the Domain Expansion technique, but the most reliable one is...

“We’ll save poor ol’ Kento, won’t we?”

The only true way to counter Domain Expansion is for the target to expand their own domain. 

He brought up both of his hands together to form a seal of his own; fingertips meeting together, with the ring and index fingers curling underneath. A seal of the Bird. A distinctly different sign used by Gojo-sensei, if he remembered correctly. A myriad of splendid azure swirled out to engulf the shell of Mahito’s domain as Kakashi’s own cursed energy eroded it, drowning it out.

[Domain Expansion: Majesty of The Gods]

-x-

Bare your existence to the fangs of the beyond…

And receive thy judgement…From the Might of the Gods.

Kamui.

-x-

A desolate land. A drought. A hapless feeling of emptiness.

No, that’s not right, Yuuji thought, staring at the resonance of ripples lapping at the soles of his shoes. His reflection stared back at him, as clear as day. The depths of the water beneath him were deep, yet, he was not sinking, like he was standing on something solid instead.

“This is…” Yuuji looked up and breathed out a sigh of relief at Nanami, who appeared to be relatively unharmed. His glasses were gone, hawk-like eyes taking in their surroundings before they focused on the winner of the abrupt tug-of-war. It seemed that they had broken in just in time before Mahito had fully utilised his Domain Expansion technique to the fullest.

Speaking of which…

“You,” The patch-faced Curse Spirit gritted his bloodied teeth, his eyes glaring venomously at Kakashi-san, who stood before them with his hands in his pockets. “You cancelled out my Domain! Who are you?!”

At that, Kakashi smiled. "Nobody."

A boundless world of white and blue consumed them all, Moon on the water surface. The sky was pure azure, endless, clouds drifting by without a care. The sea stretched on as far as the eye could see with no hint of land in sight, its water so clear that it was akin to a mirror, harbouring the Heavens above to echo beneath their feet. Blocks of geometrical cubes submerged deep below in the water, a whole abandoned, unreachable city, just out of reach. Looking at that darkness made something squirm deeply in Yuuji’s heart, an animalistic instinct that warned him of the might and despair if he were to look at it for too long. 

Yuuji heard the tinkle of a wind chime when a gentle breeze blew by, bringing with it the scent of the ocean and…snow? Tearing his eyes away from the blackness that existed beneath in a world so ethereal, he glanced upwards, beckoned by the ghostly sound.

Amid it all, stood a lone, red Torii gate, tall and benevolent.

A beautiful, yet isolated world.

But the moon.

A titan, cosmic beacon in the sky, the moon was red, dripping its malevolent essence into the otherwise colourless world, and evoking the feeling of being watched over and confined despite the apparent limitless. Slowly, the calming water was turning into an omnipresent shade of Spider lily, though its translucency remained pure.

Hey, Brat. Look.

Something pulled Yuuji’s attention from the corner of his eyes, and the strawberry-haired vessel found himself paying notice to the sloshing water at their feet once more. He found himself intrigued by his reflection in the water. Resonances of currents distorted it, bringing forth an unwanted illusion.

Ryoumen Sukuna’s face grinned back at him, all fangs and poison, gleaming crimson eyes a shining disparity, yet fit on his own youthful countenance.

Was the water reflecting one true self deep within?

Shaking his head, he stomped at the smirking reflection, and Sukuna’s image faded away with a splash. Nanami gave him a sideways glance at the action, but remained silent, for he was too busy keeping his eyes upon their now entrapped opponent. As the waves met together once more, the mirror made it known to him.

Kakashi-san’s was also different.

What was supposed to reflect a hair of pure ivory was instead of jet black, short and cropped. Clothing of violet, fluttering upon a broader set of shoulders. An emblem of red and white shaped in an Uchiwa fan was embroidered in a cloth of the old, dipped in embers.

Before he could ponder over this any further, scattered ripples disrupted the wavery image, and his attention was pulled away by Mahito’s yell of anger. Nanami gripped Yuuji by the shoulder and steered him away from the surge of water that raced between their mortal bodies. Nanami’s strict gaze met his for a moment. ‘Pay attention,’ they conveyed, so Yuuji heeded, figure tight with brimming tension.

Kakashi-san simply sidestepped the attack, as if he has managed to read it ahead.

“It’s useless.” Kakashi said, walking leisurely forward to the curse being as if he was going to greet an old friend. Each step he made brought a whole new ripple, resonating with each other on the surface of the crystalline water. “Your fate has been decided the moment you step foot in my domain. All the truth you have is laid bare before my eyes.”

“Only the Gods can hear you now. This is Judgement.”

‘Fireflies?’ Yuuji’s eyes fell on the rousing orbs of light that arose from the water, surrounding them. He reached out to touch one, out of pure curiosity. Muffled a yelp when a jolt of shock assaulted his nerves, enough to made him jump and earned a pointed glance from Nanamin again. No, not fireflies then, though they moved with purpose, fluttering about with ethereal grace. The air hummed with electricity, static prickling every sensitive and exposed nerves.

The cracking of a wide smile bearing gritted teeth was on the curse’s face, bravado in the face of an approaching lion in its den, “You can’t hurt me, sorcerer. Only Sukuna’s vessel can. Even if the terrain is in your favour, I can just regenerate any damage done by your guaranteed hits.”   

“Can you?”

There was a subtle feeling of distortion, the shifting of darkness that akin to an undercurrent deep in the sea. Lightning fizzled, a thunderous warning of fortitude. Out of nowhere, a giant bladed shuriken, as tall as a two-storey building, decimated through the whole right side of the curse’s body, creating a flash of shockwave as it embedded itself onto the watery surface, unsinking.

…

‘I can’t!’ In shock, the patch-faced curse spirit stared with wide eyes at his still injured wound, dripping blood that dissipated into the wavery water like blooming flowers. He cannot heal himself. He cannot use his technique. He can’t even reach for his own core essence, cursed energy, his soul barren in its desolation, unprotected.

“Please pay attention.” The Gojo sighed, like a disappointed teacher for a wayward student. He brought up a hand, which gave out a sizzle, an arch of blue flickering out. Not only there was a tremendous amount of cursed energy concentrating on it, but there was also a higher, more condensed power as well, lacing the air with even more humming electricity.  

Out of all current beings in the domain, only Nanami, as well as the King of Curses, were able to recognise it.

A shriek of a thousand bird. Thunder boomed, the crackling of the Heavens bearing judgement. Reinforced with it, a weapon was born out of nothingness. A sword that can cut through anything.

[Lightning Blade]

The crackling of thunder resounded loudly throughout the area. With it, Mahito’s chest and upper stomach blew outwards from the front, sending fragments of tissues, bones and gore from the sudden, hidden attack, as if he has just been pierced through with tremendous force. The smell of charred flesh. A wide gaping hole that rendered his innards visible, blood cascading his sides like a deep, deep red waterfall, tainting the purity of the realm’s clear water.

There are no absolutes. There is no absolute right and wrong, and no being is perfect. The foundation of the faith that gave way to the land. Mahito, who was able to manipulate his body to his whims, has violated its primary rule.

“Sorry, but you, a Special Grade Cursed spirit, are no match against the Majesty of the Gods. Every odd is stacked against you.”

Fear.

Unease.

Mahito was a young curse, only just now reaching maturity with the completion of his domain expansion technique, but even he could feel the feeling of unwanted human emotions seeping through his entire broken being. A drop of sweat ran down a side of his cheek. Trepidation settled in his shattered limbs, each strand of muscles quivering in front of those eyes. Even now, he could not move, unable to even writhe in his agony.

Prey in the front of its natural hunter. An absolute predator. A born nemesis of all curses.

Just like Gojo Satoru.

‘Geto, you absolute bastard!’

“Ah, not only my own attacks are stronger in this domain, but others as well. Lay it on him, Yuuji-kun.”

Mahito was so invested at the sight of his gushing blood and spiralling intestines that he has failed to account the absence of one specific sorcerer behind Kakashi. With only the Gojo’s words as a warning, and the sudden existence of pure desire to hurt behind him, did only he turn his head to meet Yuuji’s furious gaze, arms sprung back laced visibly with a turbulent of cursed energy.

Ring, the windchime did. A chime. Two rings. With each ethereal echo, the hurt and achiness of the holes in his body seemed to be pushed away. He sought his chance. The gods have given him their blessings. Opportunity, existed. Seize it. For tomorrow.

[Divergent Fists!]

Mahito’s patched face was like a deformed clay under the might and fury of Sukuna’s vessel knuckle.

The mystical realm bled away like oil upon water, and reality returned as before. Satozakura High was a bleak sight on one’s sore eyes as compared to the ethereal space before.

There was a stagger in Kakashi’s steps soon after he has released the technique, and he leaned heavily against Nanami, who has apparently moved closer as if he has anticipated the Gojo’s weariness. It was to be expected after all; Domain Expansion takes a lot of cursed energy to activate, leaving the user with extremely low reserves afterwards, which was why it was considered to be a final technique, a sure-win way to end a fight.  

“Kento-kun, carry me~~”

“…Gojo-san has been a bad influence on you. And it’s Nanami.”

Yuuji gasped, adrenaline still coursing through. He unclenched his fists, which were still shaking from the rush and covered with dirt and blood. He turned to look at the adults. “Did…did we do it? Did we kill him?”

Kakashi-san’s eyes were back to their usual stormy greys as he regarded the prone curse with a critical, yet fatigued frown. Usually, curses would dissipate after being exorcised, and the fact that patch-face was still around, though has crumpled to a miserable heap of flesh, was sure-saying that it was still alive. Pushing himself off Nanami and waving off his concerns, he brought up a hand.

“Not yet.” Kakashi grunted, snapping up a spark of lightning between two fingers, while he snubbed the 7:3 sorcerer’s scowl at him for pushing it. “Though he’s severely weakened. Such a bothersome one.”

[Soul] Manipulation, huh. His body’s malleability to shift into any form of shapes and even sharpened into razor blades. Not only on him, but also others as well. Turning humans into inorganic malleable beings of monstrosities. How even a veteran fighter like Nanami cannot guard against his attacks, for a touch is all it would take to end his life. The fact that only Yuuji was able to deal any real damage to him is a cause of worry. Curses just kept getting more powerful each day, making dangerous missions even more fatal for sorcerers and civilians alike.

Absolutely, this one must be exorcised.

Nanami seemed to have the same thoughts running through his head, for his stance was still vigilant and careful. His own wrapped blade flickered with cursed energy, and they approached cautiously.

“…And it seemed that you have underestimated me as well…sorcerers.”

“!!!”

They were right to be wary.

An influx of cursed energy swelled up suddenly from the curse’s destroyed body, and the next moment, he ballooned into a giant roundish form, ready at any moment to burst. Yuuji directly bolted ahead with a blow that popped him into countless, raining confetti of flesh. But the curse’s true intent was only made clear a second too late afterwards.

“I reckon we shall meet again…Gojo Satoru’s brother.” There was mockery in the cursed being as he distorted into a shapeless blob, crawling its way through the tight holes of the drainage. “You and that other soul seems interesting to kill~~”

“Wait!” Yuuji shouted, and he rushed forward to prevent the curse from escaping. Bloodlust fuelling his veins as he brought his fists up once more in determination, nearly high on his own pure killing intent. For Junpei, whose ‘tomorrow’ was taken away so cruelly, he must exorcise, kill that motherfucking curse, no matter what—

Slam.

Thud.

“Itadori-kun!” The blonde sorcerer yelled out in worry when Yuuji fell to a kneel, a grazed hand propping himself up.

‘My body…’ The teenager thought frantically, murderous eyes fixated on the grating smile on the curse’s blob of a face. ‘Why can’t it move?! I need to kill him!’

“See ya~~ It was fun~”

Kakashi’s shuriken bounced harmlessly around the shifting mass. Damn, he should have been more serious about going in for the kill from the start. He poured chakra into his eyes, bringing forth the Mangenkyo, aiming his sight at the curse’s head. Even with [Soul] Manipulation, even he would not be able to survive if it were missing a huge chunk of his body.

“Kamu—“

The world banked to a 90 degrees angle. He lost his senses momentarily, and a second later, he found himself acquainted with the solid ground, tasting iron at the back of his throat. He tried to move –ah, his body protested heavily, nerves screaming, and he plopped back down with an undeserving ‘smack’.

“Kakashi!”

Fuck, he must have gone too far again. Kakashi heaved a heavy groan, feeling his eyes burn and throbbed as if they were to melt from his eye sockets.

He heard Mahito’s fading laugh and the sound of crushed metal as Nanami slammed in desperation against the cover of the drain that the curse has escaped to, and soon they were left alone in the school courtyard.

“I’m still f-fine!” Stubborn-headed, Yuuji forced himself to kneel, baring his teeth, even as the rest of him was shaking like a newborn lamb. “I can chase him down--!”

“Don’t go alone in your condition!” Nanami’s voice was stern, before he quickly dialled on his phone, giving instructions to another sorcerer to check and intercept on the southern area of the sewers. He gave a few more reprimands to Yuuji, who slumped in acceptance, though not without a dissatisfied grimace.

Firm hands gripped him none too gently to manoeuvre him onto his back; Kento’s face was undoubtedly concerned as he peered down to examine the Gojo’s condition, brushing away strands of hair that got into his irritated eyes.

“I ran out of juice~” Kakashi giggled almost deliriously when Nanami let out the mother of all sighs. Now he has to deal with two incapacitated, troublesome sorcerers.

“Is everything alright?” Mild-mannered as usual, Ijichi cast a glance into the rear-view mirror, while trying to pay attention to the upcoming lane traffic.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Kakashi adjusted the wet cloth over his aching eyes, relishing in the comfort it provided. “What a mess we’ve left behind though.” The affected students in the auditorium were swiftly looked after, the dead was counted, and Yuuji was devastated with his inability to make through with his personal beliefs. Kakashi listened quietly to the talk between the two in the morgue as he dozed against the wall, a side attempt to recover his depleted reserves.

Callous as he was, Nanami was way more adjusted and suitable than Kakashi to be comforting Yuuji anyway.

Yuuji’s face twisted into a barrage of unparalleled emotions, lips trembling. A moment of humanity, growth, that the higher-ups has failed to see from Sukuna’s vessel.

“After all, you are now…a Jujutsu sorcerer.”

…How nostalgic. Didn’t Nanami say the same to him way back then as well?

“I could have taken the backseat instead though, Nanamin.” Yuuji offered, fidgeting in the shotgun. The bandages that they have applied on him as faux first aid was starting to itch, crusty with dried blood. “Would have made more room for Kakashi-san to lay down properly.”

“Out of the question. You, yourself are injured as well. It would not do to aggravate your injuries. Besides, I was the one who volunteered to take the backseat after all.”

“Ehh~~” Yuuji accepted the reasoning with barely any thought.

‘I mean, yes,’ A bead of sweat ran down the side of his cheek as Ijichi gulped back a nervous swallow. ‘But why…’

With a sleepy hum, Kakashi curled up further on the seats, wrapping his limbs around his torso, his legs tucked under him. His coat was folded up and used as a supporter for his upper back, and his head was propped up against Nanami’s upper thighs. Perhaps in a pact with Gojo-sensei, Nanami has draped his own suit jacket over the other, the material covering his visible shoulders while also protecting him from the full blast of the A/C. It looked to be an uncomfortable position in the long run but neither of them was saying anything about it. Not even the adult of adults, who kept his arms crossed, drumming his fingers in solemnity.

The strawberry-haired teenager hummed in his seat, unbothered by the closeness of the two adults in the back, nor was he puzzled by it.

‘I admire your obstructiveness, Itadori-kun!’ The window thought almost in envy.

When he glanced back, Yuuji could see the rim of Kakashi-san’s eyes were puffy and red before the latter covered them again with the soggy cloth. He gave a wince; those do not look good. “--How long have you’ve been awake?” Nanamin was asking.

The Gojo droned with a lack of energy, drumming his fingers against his stomach. “…About 3 or 4 days. The curse user I hunted down in Yokohama was rather slippery.”

“Isn’t Yokohama the next city over?” Yuuji could not help but ask. He received a mumbled confirmation, so he continued. “Did Ijichi-san pick you up or something?” The mentioned man jolted at his name like a startled cat.

“Ah…no. I…uh, made my way here. On foot.”

There was a huff from Nanami.

The only teenager in the car let out an impressed whistle. “Kakashi-san ran? How long did it take you?”

Kakashi’s answer was muted as if he were bracing for a certain man’s ire. “…About 5 minutes, I imagine.”

The incessant tapping from Nanami grew faster and louder.

Yuuji mulled it over. Yokohama was about 12 kilometres away from Kawasaki…

Speed = Distance (metres) over Time (seconds)

12 000 metres divided by 300 seconds…

Ijichi supplied helpfully to the puzzled teenager, who has held up his fingers in his calculations, with a chagrin. “Gojo-san ran about 0.04 kilometres per second, Itadori-kun.”

The sound of a race car zooming by resounded in the teenager’s brain at the revelation.

“That’s impressive, Kakashi-san!” Yuuji, a fellow marathon machine, beamed brightly at the weakened man, who sweat-dropped. 

On the contrary, Yuuji could tell that Nanamin was not amazed by the twitch of his furrowed brows. “By all accounts, I am obligated to tell Gojo-san about your current condition and your inability to properly take care of yourself.”

“Oh Kami-sama, please no.” Kakashi-san moaned at that, shuddering. “Don’t tell Satoru. He’ll lecture me again while laying on me like a ton of bricks the whole time. Do you know how heavy Satoru can be? Besides, I’ll be all right by the time we reach the college. You’re taking care of me after all, Kento.” His eyes curved into a proxy smile, dark lashes a stark contrast to how pale he was looking.

Seeing how unmoved the other was, Kakashi-san attempted. “I’ll give you bread.”

“Gojo-shi.”

“Two, no, three. Five kinds from that favourite bakery that you love so much.”

“Gojo-shi, please stop trying to bribe me with bread.”

Kakashi made a wounded sound like a disappointed puppy. He even pawed at Nanami’s crossed arms for dramatic effect, to no avail.

Bread…Yuuji’s stomach growled, and he patted reassuringly at it. He wondered what he should get for dinner. He was tempted to ask more of Kakashi’s cooking, but the man himself was exhausted, needed all the rest he could get. Yuuji knew his way around the kitchen as well, for his late grandfather had a hatred for take-out food.  

Something grumbled inside him, as if unsatisfied with his decision.

“Kento,” A quietened murmur. Any traces of humour were gone from Kakashi’s voice as he blinked up a tempestuous grey at the younger, an ignited cobalt upon ash. “I never revealed myself to be Satoru’s brother, did I?”

‘“I reckon we shall meet again…Gojo Satoru’s brother.”’

He knew from the start.

Even now, few people really knew of his true connection with Satoru, the lack of the Six Eyes and absence of a distinguished inherited technique making it easier to dampen his presence, hiding his face amongst the crowd. He worked more under the Gojo’s family name rather than a dedicated sorcerer for the school and the Jujutsu higher-ups, to lessen the risk of unwanted individuals taking advantage of his lesser position, and a buffer. Working under Satoru also meant that he could control which missions to undertake and who to support, to make sure that they were not deliberately against him.

Satoru has admitted that sending Kakashi to Jujutsu Tech was an initial arrangement to treat Kakashi’s still persisting ailment, but now has become an extensive plan for him to build his grounds. To forge connections and relations with the other sorcerers.

“The old croons upstairs are paranoid as fuck and will do anything to preserve their so-called precious traditions, but the people at the school…They’re legitimately good people. They’ll help you out just as you will be able to help them in return. Your trustworthy comrades.”

Kakashi knew that some people would love to rip him apart to try to get back at Satoru, a person that they could, otherwise, not harm. Satoru has also expressed concerns in the case of spies being sent for informational gathering would inevitably lead to someone finding out the existence of Obito, a prospect that no doubt, will label Kakashi as a threat that must be disposed of.

A secret that was easily unravelled by Ryoumen Sukuna, due to his nature and vessel, and Patch-face, who was able to see souls.  

The reason for his theatrics, what was it for? Amusement? Something about it all was getting rather unbecoming. Curses normally do not even have the capability to talk, most of the time looking less like a human, but Mahito was the most humanoid looking one he has met so far. The prospects of Special Grades, with powerful abilities and human-like thoughts and intelligence, more of them banding together…

A premonition.

“…No, you did not.” Nanami confirmed, and he readjusted the damp cloth to fully cover the other’s eyes again, ignoring the silver-haired man’s soft noise of protest. “But I think this conversation is more fit when you are not half-conscious from burnout.” And when we are in the presence of more suitable company, was what left unsaid.

For the next several, the only noise in the moving vehicle was of the and Yuuji’s grumbling stomach. A particular rumble that sounded like a dinosaur startled Ijichi so much that he flinched in his seat. The teenager pouted when Kakashi-san gave out a chuckle while Nanami only sighed.

“Don’t have any buns you can give to the poor boy, Kento?”

“You act as if I’m a walking bread dispenser, Gojo-shi.” To which he got a surprising exclaim, “You’re not?”

“You can’t blame me when every time we meet, you always seem to have some sort of baked goods from the bakery. And those special daily lunches pack; not that the egg sandwiches last time were bad or anything. Really fluffy.”

“And I of you when you still look like you can be blown away by your own storm winds.”

“Ah Kento, you wound me. Besides, how else can I get you to bring me my daily bread-related lunches then?”

Unexpectedly, Nanamin’s voice was lowered into a lax, almost mellow pitch as he said, “Why is it so hard for you to take care of yourself properly…Kakashi?” Evidently, he has gotten tired of keeping up the pretence around Yuuji, who was not even paying that much attention to the two of them, too busy thinking about ways to appease his stomach.

A tutted drawl. “Who says that I’m not?”

The sigh from Nanami sounded almost forlorn. “You say things like that often…but your actions proved contrary.”

The exhale that Kakashi released was one full of defeat. “Are we really having this conversation right now?”

“When else? You were always running otherwise.”

“Running is what I’m best at.”

“As well as avoiding talk.”

“…There was one. And you know why already.”

“And that is for you to decide?”

Even Yuuji sensed like he was intruding upon something, the atmosphere becoming awkward. He peeked over to Ijichi, who looked like he himself rather run headfirst into the traffic than to be stuck in this position right now, practically vibrating in his seat anxiously. Hunching back against his seat, the teenager tried to pass the time by glancing through the window, pretending there was a monkey climbing and jumping to and fro the electrical poles.

Being an adult is tough, he summarised.

“And here we are again,” Ieiri Shoko said, as Kakashi stumbled through the entrance of the infirmary, with Nanami and Yuuji following in tow. The 7:3 sorcerer had a firm hold clasped around the silver-haired man’s arm as he looked contented with his catch.

“Here we are again.” The Gojo parroted, shooting a dirty look at Nanami’s way, which was ignored. When the blonde finally relinquished his grip on him, Kakashi rubbed a palm at the sore spot.

The brown-haired doctor neared them; her hands buried the depths of her white coat. There was an unlit cigarette dangling in her lips as she cast all of them a dead expression. She stared at Kakashi the longest. “You didn’t come by last week for after mission check-up.”

Yuuji watched as the usually composed man was now squirming under the glare of two grown Jujutsu users. “I wasn’t injured.” He said, and before Yuuji could do or say anything, the man slid behind him, prodding him forward. “And I’m not injured now. In fact, Yuuji-kun is the one needing medical assistance.”

“I should shackle you.” Shoko’s tone was mild as she immediately patted Yuuji down for injuries. At her gesture, he removed his uniform and undershirt, wincing at the feeling of sticky blood. The bandages he had on were crusty and dotted with crimson, but he supposed it was better than having him pass out from blood loss somewhere along the way.

“Sorry, I’m not into that.” Kakashi said and examined at Yuuji’s injuries along with the female sorcerer. Supposedly waiting up on Yuuji and for his turn as well, Nanami went and sit in the nearby chair, pulling out the newspaper that were folded in one of the bedside drawers. The teenager was able to distinguish that it was an outdated one from last week before he was forced to turn around to face even more prodding.

“Wasn’t asking.” Shoko prodded a finger through one of the holes, seemingly impressed at the resilience of Yuuji’s body. The teenager whined when she did that; it tickled.

“Do you work here as well, Kakashi-san?” In an attempt to ignore the feeling of his gut rearranging itself, Yuuji asked Kakashi, who was working on a particularly nasty gash near his naval.

“Yes.” Kakashi said.

“No.” Shoko countered, delivering an unforgiving hard smack to the back of the man’s head. “He does help out time to time, but now he’s doing it to try and bribe a favour out of me.”

“Is it working?”

The doctor was about to mouth an obvious ‘No’ when a loud screech permeated through the air.

“NII-SAN!” Gojo Satoru’s voice reverberated somewhere from inside the building, accompanied by some very boisterous stomping. “NII-SAN, NOT ONLY DID YOU RUN FROM YOKOHAMA TO KAWASAKI, BUT YOU SKIPPED A CHECK-UP AND NOW YOU’RE BURNOUT AGAIN?”

Yuuji has never seen the colour drained from someone’s face so fast.

“How-?” Kakashi paused before turning to seemingly forgotten Nanami, who was holding his cell phone to his ear.

“Mission report.” Was all the man spoke, tapping the ‘End Call’ button.

“Kento, you traitor!” Kakashi hissed as he abandoned the pinkish newly patched skin to inch towards the nearby window. He unlatched it, pushing the panel open before, to Yuuji’s amazement, slipped a foot through, the rest of him swiftly following. He waved the teenager a cheerful goodbye – which Yuuji graciously returned, before dropping off from the 3^rd floor.

Nanami did not move to stop him, probably deeming that the younger Gojo would be able to catch him anyway.

Just a few seconds after the tips of Kakashi’s hair disappeared from view, Gojo-sensei burst through the door so hard, the wood rebounded against the wall from the force. His shades were askew, icy blues peeking through them when he regarded them all with his usual dramatical flair. “Nii-san, what do you have to say for your—“ He noticed the wide-eyed Yuuji, and waggled his fingers in a wave. “Oh hi, Yuuji-kun. Welcome back~~”

“This is an infirmary, Gojo.” Shoko said blankly as she worked on the last of Yuuji’s injuries. “Not a theatre.”

Gojo-sensei ignored her, looked at his student for a moment to access the damage done to him before deeming he was fine, then, at the absence of the individual he was looking for, immediately zeroed in on the opened window, the curtains billowing in the breeze.

Without saying anything, Yuuji watched as his teacher threw himself through the window with the speed of a Shinkansen Train. Nary a moment later, there was a loud yell, the sounds of very sharp pointy things being thrown, and the noise of the forest being incinerated.

“Does this happen often?” Yuuji asked the last of the adults in the room with wide, curious eyes.

They immediately responded in a plain manner, even as there was a loud explosion in the distance, making the walls rattle, “Yes.”

(“Sapporo, Sapporo--!” Gojo-sensei came back in carrying a resigned Kakashi-san under an arm like he was holding up a sack of potatoes. The edges of his hair were singed but there was a cheery smile on his face as he acted like they both have not just committed destruction of school property in the past 5 minutes.)

Nobara stumbled as the ground shook beneath them, and a plume of smoke billowing in the distance.

“W-What is that?” She turned to the 2^nd Years and Megumi, who all looked uncannily unbothered.

“Just ignore it.” Maki-senpai told her as she swung her polearm at a twitchy-eyed Megumi. “It’s just The Idiot and his Slightly Less of An Idiot brother going at it again.”

“Huh?” The 1^st Year made a face, trying to make do with the vague statement. Who on Earth was related to anyone in this damn place? Before she could give it any further thought, she screamed as Panda has picked her up by the legs again. His fluffy animalistic face gave her terrified face a wide beam. “P-a-y atten-tion~~” He said before giving Nobara her twelfth round of a mock merry-go-round for the day.

“Sa—ke,” Inumaki said over Nobara’s cries, holding up a cardboard sign that wrote:

‘3 more days until the Kyoto Sister Goodwill Event.’

A white cotton turtleneck. Dark midnight jeans. Sunglasses.

He checked himself out in the mirror, throwing his own reflection a wink and a charming grin. As per usual, he looked gorgeous and drop-dead sexy, and he knows it.

“Hot potato~~, Hot potato~~,” Satoru whistled, tucking his small carrier fit for a short trip. Smoothing out the creases of his (very expensive) black overcoat, and smoothing out his tousled locks, he called out, “Nii-san, hurry up~ Or else we’re going to miss our flight~~”

He heard Kakashi grumbling from his bedroom, “I can’t believe we’re evolving into a food tour around Hokkaido instead of just Sapporo now. Can we even explore much in the span of two days?”

Of course, they can, with the crudely drawn help of Gojo Satoru’s Sweets Map, made by yours truly. “Nii-san owns me~~” Satoru simply sang in response, and Kakashi sighed at that. As he waited for his brother to finish packing his essentials, the Gojo pulled out his phone, appearing to check their itinerary, but really, he was perceiving the nearly lethargic waves of Kakashi’s energy, humming with underlying currents even as the man was sluggishly moving about.

Beneath it all, a certain kind of divinity. Something even beyond being related to the same bloodline descending from one of the Three Great Vengeful Spirits of Japan, Michizane Sugawara. 

At face value, going on a trip at a time like this appears to be ludicrous, with the event being so close and all. But nothing that Satoru do was ever for not a reason, even if most of the times it appears like he was. Yuuji needed rest from the mission that took a lot out of him both physically and mentally, with Nanamin staying around to keep an eye on him, and Kakashi-nii would recover faster in Hokkaido anyway. The Land Where People Live. The origins of the divine. In the Jujutsu world, Hokkaido holds a sacred value, a holy place, for it was thought that divine beings originated from there, the start of everything. A main ley line for Jujutsu.

For a being like Kakashi, whose Domain Expansion, a technique that required resolute understanding of cursed energy, to resonate with such a hallowed place, ah well, Satoru just considered it lucky that in the worst-case scenario, he could just shackle Kakashi somewhere in the prefecture and he would be safe. Unhappy, yes, but safe he would be.

…

Of course, he was curious about his brother’s connection to the place! Either it was due to his own family line or the stupid curse residing inside of him.

He was intrigued. If only there was a way to check… But even during his former life, Kakashi has said that any clan texts regarding the Hatake (“Hatake? You were named Hatake Kakashi?” His brother grunted in confirmation while Satoru laughed at the meaning, avoiding a swat.) were all but gone with any generational knowledge being passed down to him. As for the Uchiha…

As always, Time has always been a hindrance.

(Like an unwanted smouldering kindling, both clans were extinguished)

“What’s the name of the technique?”

“Kamui.”

Kamuy. A spiritual or divine being in Ainu mythology, a term denoting a supernatural entity composed of or possessing spiritual energy. The Ainu people have many myths about the kamuy, passed down through oral traditions and rituals. They were the original habitants of the Northern land, and some suspected, witnessed the birth of Jujutsu, for their Earth has brought the creation of spiritual energy.

Correlation. Deep-rooted connections, layered by the flow of human history. He has some hypothesises, all of them based on ungrounded assumptions, unable to be proven. The key to it all lied dormant.

Satoru hated not knowing. There were few things in this mortal world that escaped his eyes, the gift of being able to immediately perceive and decode to even a microscopic scale granted to him since his birth. The matter of the Universe malleable at his palms, putty to his whims. But it seems that even he, however, could not avoid the erosion of time has on humanity.

At any other time, he would have revelled in the challenge. As he has stated before, there were little that can escape the Six Eyes. An enigma, a puzzle that contrasted the mundanity and triviality of humanity, anything that contested with his abilities, the Honourable One, was a welcome change in a life filled with nothing but the same, boring shit and expectations.

Any other time, and Satoru would have greeted the change in the winds with open arms and a wide, maniacal grin, Six Eyes flaring at the infinite.

He heard Kakashi humming in the room over, a slothful, muted tune, sounding like he might keel over and sleep at any given moment (wouldn’t be the first time).  

But not when the stakes are high.

It was a stupid, fleeting thought, but he has half a mind to just walk up to Kakashi and shake him like a rattle, just to see whether or not that can finally wake up the stupid curse and get some answers for once. He loves Kakashi, and like hell he would let him fall back into the abyss again Just because something from the past has come back to bite them in the asses. They already have their hands full dealing with dumbasses of the present.

…Yeah, this impromptu vacation is justified.

“Lamb BBQ~~” Lavender-flavoured soft ice cream sounded really good. An exotic delicacy of Hokkaido.

He opened the front door.

With crossed arms, Yaga-sensei was standing there with a menacing look on his face.

Right, destruction of school property.

“---Ramen with buttered corn~~” Satoru promptly closed the door, backpedalling. “Seafood hot pot~~”

Kakashi came out from his room, wearing a cream cable-knitted sweater and a pair of grey Glen check trousers. He would have sense Yaga’s presence through the barrier. “Is that Yaga-san—whoa!” The older got the wind knocked out from him when Satoru proceeded to pick him up by the waist when he passed by, the younger once more treating him like a luggage bag. Satoru fled in the opposite direction from the pounding door with his brother in tow.

“Gojoooo-!”

-x-

Omake: Praise

“Nanamin~~ Entertain me, I’m bored~~”

“…”

“Pon Pon Pon!” Gojo clapped his hands together obnoxiously. “Tell me what you like about Gojo Satoru~~!”

Nanami flipped a page of his newspaper.

“Everything!” Gojo said loudly to himself, quite gratified.

“I agree,” Kakashi spoke in earnest, for he has come in sometime during his younger brother’s loud applauds for himself. He gave Satoru a warm smile, ostensibly oblivious to the other’s main aim to annoy his junior. “Satoru is the best younger brother one could ever have.”

Satoru froze mid-clap, mouth agape. At the surprise silence that he has longed for, Nanami risked a glance over his paper, watching as the slight sheen of a flush that has crept over the strongest sorcerer’s skin gradually turned crimson. Apparently, he was so surprised that someone has agreed with him (for once) on his narcissistic claims that his brain has fizzled out, rendering him speechless. Huh, so that megaphone mouth does have an off button after all. Truly a miracle.

The peace and quiet lasted all too short for his liking, because the younger Gojo threw himself all over his amicable brother with a tangle of limbs and uncharacteristic fluster that would be almost amusing to watch if the other was not akin to a wailing siren, all sparkles and hearts permeating from the obviously happy yet embarrassed younger brother.

“Nii-san~ Don’t tease me like that~~” Still red, his grin was wobbling as Satoru clutched his brother’s shoulders.  

“Eh~~?” Kakashi drawled in a placated tone, eyes still curled into a smile. “But I wasn’t joking at all~ I love Satoru with all of my heart~”

Critical hit! Satoru reeled back with his hands on his chest, as if he has just been shot with an arrow there.

Waving away the visible flowery aura that got too close to him, Nanami gave out the most grievous sigh, feeling smothered by the overbearing feelings of affections between the senseless siblings just by being in the same room as them.

Omake 2: Brush

“Hmm? Nii-san, isn’t your hair getting a bit too long?” Satoru asked, reaching out to twirl a lock around a finger. What was usually at nape-length was now silvery stands slipping just barely past his brother’s shoulders. “Due for a haircut soon?”

“I’m thinking of keeping it actually.” The older stated. “As a memento for my father.”

“Father?” Satoru himself does not remember their father, for he has apparently died when Satoru was a mere toddler.

Kakashi gave an awkward chuckle at that before correcting, “Past self’s father. His hair used to reach the middle of his back.”

Satoru let out an interested noise, before Kakashi found himself being gripped by large, enthusiastic hands around his shoulders. “Nii-san!” His brother said loudly, and Kakashi sweat-dropped at the twinkling, shininess in the other’s blue eyes. “Let me brush your hair for you!”

Kakashi was about to protest that he can do it himself, but a motivated Satoru was an even-more-difficult-to-handle Satoru, and so he was dragged to be seated on the couch while his younger brother rummaged around for a hairbrush. He did find one eventually, which was a surprise to the both of them because neither rarely find the need to even comb their bedhair (much to the chagrin of their female colleagues).

Satoru reached for a strand and Kakashi braced himself for pain, but none came.

Kakashi marvelled as he tilted his head forward for easier access for Satoru. “You’re surprisingly good at this. And here I thought you had never used a comb before in your life.”

He expected a preen or an affronted remark from Satoru at his jab, but the seconds ticked by silently as Satoru continued his gentle brushing with nary a snide comment.

“…Suguru used to let me brush his hair sometimes.” Satoru’s voice was near inaudible when he said this, and his fingers quivered a bit when they combed through some of Kakashi’s rougher ends.

Oh. Kakashi bit his lip at the revelation, unsure of what to say. Whether it was wise to say anything at all. At the insinuation or the sudden, even more severe magnitude of past events has had on his younger sibling.

Internally, he sighed. What a fine, hot mess pair of brothers they both are.

Satoru brushed a few more times before he clutched the long strands in a gentle grasp, finishing it off with a firm knot of the rubber band he has found earlier.

“There!” Satoru gave an exclaim, exuberance energy apparently returning. “If you’re going to keep your hair long, then we should get you some conditioner or else it’s going to be a real hassle to take care of it~~ Better get a proper hair tie as well.”

The crooked grin on Satoru’s face would be able to fool anyone else, but Kakashi knew straight away as soon as he turned towards him.

“…How about we go out right now and get some?” Kakashi said, patting his younger brother on his arm as he walked past into the bedroom to grab his coat. “And how bout we stop by the florist and get some flowers while we’re at it? It’s been a while after all.”

“…Yeah.”

Omake 3: Shirt

Kakashi exhaled heavily, rubbing the back of his head. He stared at the absolute full laundry basket that has been loaded with a mountainous heap of dirty clothes, then at his wardrobe, empty of any sort of wearable items.  

Well, this is a pickle. This is what happened when one puts off the chore of laundry washing far too many times. He kept neglecting about going on about it due to being on missions (as well as laziness), and now it has come to bite him in the ass. On cue, he watched as the heap gave away, sending the clothes into an avalanche to the floor.

No use complaining about it, he guessed, as he crouched down and began picking up the mess. It was not one fault but his own. So, with a reluctant heart, he did the necessary steps to ensure that his clothes would not end up being a jumbled, colourful mess in the washing machine, before, looking down at the messy shirt he was wearing, took it off and adding it to the whirling machinery.

He then realised, with a shiver from a slight draft, then he was half-naked in his boxers with no replacement from his empty wardrobe.

Ah well, no problem. He’ll just borrow one of Satoru’s shirts in the meantime while he waits for the washing machine to be done.

Kakashi has just managed to pull one on when his neck prickled, sensing Satoru’s signature through the barrier. Sure enough, the front door opened as Satoru said, “I’m home~”

“Welcome back.” His younger brother’s voice sounded melodious with mischievous reverberations that Kakashi unknowingly cracked a smile, knowing that Satoru has undoubtedly irritated someone’s day. He has sent the boy out for some groceries earlier and judging by the lacking sound of plastic bags being hauled around, he can guess what has transpired.

“I got you some saury from that restaurant you like—“ Satoru’s words skidded into a halt as he stared befuddlingly at his brother; or rather at what he was wearing. “…Is that my shirt?” He asked in bewilderment.

“Hmm? Ah, sorry. All my clothes are being washed right now, so I borrowed one of yours,” Mistaking the look on the other’s face, Kakashi quickly added, “Don’t worry, I’ll immediately wash it the moment mine’s done.”

‘That’s not the problem!’ Satoru thought, ‘That’s seriously not the problem!’

‘Kamisamaisthismypunishmentisthismyretributioniknowimsmartandhansomesomybrotherhaveinheritedthesamegenesasmebutkamisamaniisanhassomeseriousleggamegoingonpervertsmustprotecthimfrom—‘ Just managing to place the takeaway container on the nearby counter with a trembling hand, Satoru slid weakly to the ground to settle in a praying, rattling heap. (“Kami-sama, is this my punishment? Is this my retribution? I know I’m smart and handsome, so my brother has inherited the same genes as me but Kami-sama, does Nii-san has some serious leg game going on! Perverts, must protect him from-“)

Kakashi-nii was wearing one of his shirts. Not just any shirt, but the dark one that has a profound curvature, which Satoru admitted was very fashionable and made him look quite hot (well hotter, he already knows he is hot). The problem was that particularly clothing was already sitting on the edge of his collarbone in Satoru’s size, and on Kakashi’s smaller frame, it was…well.

“Are you alright, Satoru? Are you catching something?” Kakashi asked in worry, even as a hand reached upwards to pull the sagging edge of the shirt back over his shoulder; it just slumped back down to rest on the meat of his bicep. “Also, for all the times you kept clamouring me to wear a jacket or a coat, I don’t think you yourself take on your own advice. You shouldn’t really wear this anymore.”

“Why…why not?” Mumbling, the younger dragged himself from the floor to crawl to the sofa like a dying man. Kakashi followed him with a contemplating expression.

“The shirts you wear are always so big and revealing around your shoulders. Doesn’t do well to protect you from the chill.” Kakashi mused. “The cold months are coming soon. You have been worrying about me falling sick all this time, haven’t you? That’s why you kept pestering me.”

“Right…right.” Satoru replied rather weakly, just accepting his brother’s (rather off) reasoning.

“I should knit some scarves for us.” Kakashi chirped as he pulled back his sagging sleeves, for they have covered his hands completely, “Maybe for the kids as well. Do you think orange looks good?”

Too busy thinking up contingency plans for his brother’s dangerous moments of innocuousness, Satoru slumped even further on the sofa, if that was possible.

There was a knock on the front door.

“It’s Nanami Kento.” Nanami’s voice came from the other side. He sounded annoyed. “Gojo-san left his grocery bags with me. Don’t just drag someone off and dump your belongings on that person while immediately abandoning them at the slightest convenience.”

“Ah, Nanami-kun? I’m coming, give me a moment—, “Kakashi bounded over to the door, the rapid movements causing the helm of the shirt to slide further down—

Satoru’s monkey brain screeched.

“WAIT, KAKASHI-NII, WAIT, WAIT, WAIT—“

At his brother's ear-piercing hollers, Kakashi turned around, fingers merely inches from the doorknob, raising an eyebrow. Satoru, at a loss for words and on the verge of having a heart attack, gestured wildly at his brother's lack of proper clothing, hoping that his dense sibling would get the hint.

Seemingly getting the concern, Kakashi nodded, placed a sleeve-covered hand over his exposed face and promptly opened the door. 

"WAIT, WHY IS THAT YOUR PRIMARY CONCERN--?!"

Nanami paused at the state of (un)dress of his host, before looking pointedly upwards as he patiently counted to ten. With a deep exhale of air, he took off his suit jacket, draping it carefully over the other's shoulders with a motion that appeared to be of irritation. "Gojo-shi, you shouldn't be wearing like this in this weather. You could get a cold." He scolded reprimandingly, making sure the jacket stayed fully closed. 

"Sorry," Kakashi said unapologetically with a curious tilt of his head, "Clothes are in the wash. Speaking of which, you can come in and put those on the counter. I'll brew some tea as thanks." 

Nanami did not question the passed out Satoru on the floor, nor did he care to know the reason for it. 

Author’s Note:

(1) Gojo-shi: -shi (氏), A very generic and very polite suffix used in formal writing and speech to refer to someone whom the speaker or writer has never met but knows about through writing and hearsay. Adult Nanami used this particular suffix to refer to Kakashi (“Gojo-shi”) and to differentiate from Satoru (“Gojo-san”).

(2) Kamui: Kamui refers to the might and majesty of the gods, particularly of the Shinto Kami. A literal translation of Kamui would be ‘Authority of the Gods’. The cubes that Yuuji saw in the water was basically a reflection of Obito’s Kamui dimension. I wanted to incorporate the literal, ethereal essence of the Kamui into Kakashi’s Domain Expansion, while keeping Kamui as its own individual technique. While in the domain, goodness and evil is recognised.

A land hidden by the Gods themselves. A place that exists and not at the same time. The waters which surface was akin to a mirror was the Yata no Kagami, the sacred artifact, which represents "wisdom" or "honesty”, and the reflections in the rippling water bear the truth within.  

Within Itadori Yuuji exists Ryomen Sukuna, and within Gojo Kakashi exists Uchiha Obito.

Hence the sentence “…as if he was able to read it in advance”, aka Kakashi was able to predict Mahito’s movements and counter them.

You can tell that Obito has an influence on the foundation of Kakashi’s Domain. (Remember, Kakashi’s cursed energy is made up of half of Obito’s essence as well).

(3) An exempt from a paragraph in Japan Guide: “There are no absolutes in Shinto. There is no absolute right and wrong, and nobody is perfect. Shinto is an optimistic faith, as humans are thought to be fundamentally good, and evil is believed to be caused by evil spirits.”. Retrieved from Japan Guide.com, under ‘Shinto’).

Domain Expansion: Majesty of the Gods is influenced by the Shinto faith. A sanctuary for the good, any Jujutsu sorcerers within Kakashi’s Domain is blessed/powered up (“Ah, not only my own attacks are stronger in this domain, but others as well. Lay it on him, Yuuji-kun.”) while Mahito, a Special Grade cursed spirit, an accumulation of negative emotions and human evils, suffered greatly. His whole essence was blocked, which was why he was unable to heal himself.

Kakashi’s Domain is at its most effective when dealing with curses. The ability to contain even Special Grade does not come cheaply however, and it costs a gratuitous amount of cursed energy to maintain the realm.

Imma start labelling the omakes so it makes me easier for me to reference them in the future or something. Planning in advance or something, idk, Im a procrastinator.

Okay, formal talk is over, the author is back to being smol brain. Essentially, there are a lot of differences between the Gojo brothers, but my fav way to distinguish them is this:

Satoru: min-maxed his techniques so that he would be able to use them at the lowest cost of cursed energy as minimal as possible.

Kakashi: hahaha cursed energy and chakra go brrrbrrrrrrrrr—(faints)

Yes, Kakashi’s cursed energy and chakra reserves are a lot more than he has when he was a Jounin (akin to an Uzumaki, as I said before, so at least 4x his former reserve), so the fact that he can still run out of juice and sometimes even fainted from exhaustion truly tells you how much he uses during missions (maybe he got a little too trigger-happy lol).

Thus, Kakashi is like that classroom’s pet that everyone needs to take care of and trying to keep alive. XD

Considering Kakashi’s Domain Expansion, at first, I just wanted to make it just a replica of Obito’s Kamui, but something about it doesn’t seem right (plus it seems kinda boring as well lol), so I opted to think of another way. At the same time, I just really really like Kamui, ya know, and the literal meaning of the word is really badass and heavenly (like seriously, ‘Authority of the Gods’). So, for a while I was really, really stuck on what to do (and the writer’s block was really adding to it) and then I stumbled upon this video on Youtube:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K2zMtbsKReM

The illustration on the video heavily inspired me to envision what Kakashi’s Domain looks like. Plus, the beautiful melody really captures, at least to me, the embodiment of Kamui; a majestic, worthy of the Gods’ presence, yet an isolated space, far from their own worshippers.

Plus, I kinda see it as ironic as both Kakashi and Obito seemed cursed by the Gods themselves if their entire lives worth of tragedies has anything to say about it. Also, Kamui is still the coolest name for a technique in the Narutoverse and you can’t change my mind. :p

Oh yeah, the omakes for this chapter are quite long and Satoru-themed because there was a lack of Satoru-ness in the chapter, and I wanted to make up for that and also because the author just wanted to booli Gojo and his brother complex. Let’s just say that he did get retribution for all the times he becomes a public pest in the form of “innocent”, oblivious Kakashi.

Regarding Nanami and Kakashi, I blame Uintuva. They pulled me into rare-pair hell.  But is Nanami and Kakashi themselves in a relationship at this point? Nah, purely because Kakashi is Kakashi (aka denying himself any happiness because he found himself unworthy as well as still thinking about Obito). Nanami is trying, but he is respecting Kakashi’s decision as well. At the same, while maintaining a professional front about it, he is legitimately concerned and tries to look out for Kakashi in his own ways.

Does Satoru know about them? Nah. Does everyone else know? Phhft, obviously. Gossip vines. And betting pools.

Will I write about Satoru about finding out? Phfft. Obviously. Fun material to commit even more Satoru-bullying.

NPC: Gojo-san, you’re surprisingly okay with leaving Kakashi-san with Nanami-san alone together.

Satoru: Hmm~~? It’s Nanamin. The adult of all adults. I can trust him with Nii-nii. He won’t do anything.

(cue the most unorthodox mating ritual occurring in the background involving bread and tangerines)

If Nanami and Kakashi is not your style, don’t worry~ They’re just gonna be crumbs for myself, and is going to be another pairing background thing. Obikaka is still front and foremost, though wake up idiot (smacks Obito on the head) 

Edit: Good to know that the NanaKaka is not too overbearing in this fic~ And that people can dig the ship, because it can be a wholesome ship if you ask me, crackish yeah, but this is a fanfic yeah? 

Also due to popular demand, I've extended omake 3 a bit~ This was actually the original bit to it but it was already too long so I cut it (also because of the comedic cliffhanger and I didn't want to shove NanaKaka too hard in people's faces). Nanami is such a gentleman~~ 

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: Coming Events Cast Their Shadows Before Them (Light, Dark, All Sides) 

“Satoru was right,” The man who was Gojo Satoru’s brother said the moment he entered the room. He tilted his head as he scrutinised Suguru with those lazy eyes of his, his pale complexion illuminating the sense of mischief that dwindled in those stormy-colored irises. “You did lose weight.”

Suguru groaned, running his hands through his frazzled strands as he moved to sit in the plastic chair that was located as usual by the bedside. “Says the one who looked like a twig.” He returned in good humour, setting his bag of fruits – his visitation gift for the supposedly bedridden patient-- sagging on the surface of the bedside table. Usually, there was nothing on there but torn wrappers of sweets and empty cups of ice cream -- no doubt Satoru’s mess, he may be the strongest sorcerer of their generation but for all his power of being able to control the infinite, the man has never been able to locate the nearest trash bin even once, an unfortunate habit that Suguru known all too well. Today, however, there was a vase freshly filled with flowers there, a simple yet lovely assortment of Daffodils and Hydrangeas. Against the bleakness of the rest of the room, the myriad of purple and yellow was a much welcome sight. He wondered who had brought it, for it was the first time he has seen the flowers, and Satoru’s brother has spent so much of his time in the infirmary he might as well claim the room as his own.

Speaking of said brother…

“My my, Suguru-kun.” Gojo Kakashi droned with his usual slothful drawl, emitting enough energy to rival that of a sleeping turtle. It was honestly jarring to Suguru, who has spent so much of his time mingling with the much more energetic younger sibling. And what a shock it was, to suddenly learn that your best friend, the closest one you have ever had to reveal that he has an older brother all this time. A very beloved one at that, solely judged by Satoru’s endless rambles of adoration when he invaded Suguru’s dorm room whenever he could, leeching off his snacks supply with his usual shamelessness.

“Respect your elders.” Kakashi stated without heat, the crinkle of his mask indicating that he was smiling behind it. Even without the Six Eyes, Kakashi’s resemblance to Satoru was uncanny, the distinct hair color a rare trait even amongst sorcerers. Suguru has not met the rest of the members of the Gojo clan, but he assumed that the silvery strands were seen as a sign of being blessed, and thus not many would have them. Honestly, the only other person who has such pale shade of hair was Meimei, and Suguru has the underlying assumption that she might have some bloodline relations to the Gojo somehow, given how strong she is.

Clan politics, ugh.

“You never say that to Satoru.” Suguru grunted, not sounding as annoyed as he should be. He pulled out his already opened pack of cigarettes, by now half emptied, to which Kakashi gave him the stink eye for. He ignored it, though he felt like he was going to get his repercussions soon enough. “Speaking of which, what did Shoujo Eyes mouth off to you this time?” He asked distractedly.

Eyes. Eyes. Satoru’s were the shade of brilliant azure, the same as the cloudless sky yet somehow even more alluring. How long has he last seen them, when even the Heavens above could not satisfy his urge anymore, to distract his wayward thoughts?

Too long.

Were they even thinking about him anymore? Or was it just a mortal yearning for something celestial way beyond his boundaries?

…

Suguru did something that he never thought he could.

He sulked (silently).

“Hey now,” The 3^rd Year student made a face when the silver-haired man flung a pillow at his face in an attempt to stop him from smoking. Kakashi may not have the same exuberance liveliness that Satoru ludicrously have, but that did not make him any less annoying, in his own way. Perhaps being bothersome was a clan trait somehow. “I would like to call my cute brother’s vents our “brotherly sessions” ~” He chirped jovially.

…Yeah, right. Releasing a tired sigh, Suguru have the urge to massage his temples. Headaches were frequent recently, and he was running out of Paracetamols. Shoko has refused to give him more after he has finished off his eighth tab. “Alright, alright, and what have these… ‘brotherly sessions’ informed you about?” He concurred, mentally taking a note to go to the civilian pharmacy later.

It took a few seconds of blissful silence that accompanied the absolute throttle of Suguru’s headache before the other leaned back, his air of mischief diluted, apprehensive.

“Satoru is worried, you know?” Kakashi confessed amiably, taking in Suguru’s slumped form once more. The way that the other’s shoulders seem burdened with the weight of the world, and his untied hair, which were usually kept and neat, frazzled around the column of neck in uneven ends. His teasing tone has vanished as he took in a gentler, but strict voice. Brotherly, Suguru would call it, if he were not an only child in his family. For a flicker of a moment, he wondered how many times that Satoru himself has been at the end of it--

Kami, Geto, get a hold of yourself. You’re acting like a fool.

Kakashi said, “He’s concerned about you.”

Suguru tried very hard to keep something from seeping into his voice. “Is he?” With each passing second, the need to get up and pace was becoming increasingly unbearable. He tapped the edge of his cigarette box with a relentless finger, knowing that Kakashi was watching each tap with a hooded gaze, one that warned Suguru that he will be mercilessly assaulted with a pillow barrage should he try to smoke again in the room. Instead, the teenager relocated his stare towards the floorboards, aged from the years since the school has been first built but cleaned recently from dust. His head started to throb, fingers twitching with jitteriness. He was starting to regret this visit, when all he wanted to do was just cope alone in his room, trying to get rid of the bitterness that seemed to be etch permanently onto his tongue.

But Suguru has promised Satoru, didn’t he? That he would help look after Kakashi when Satoru’s not around.

 Suguru spoke again with a heavy, defeated voice, one that bespoke of how damn tired he was, “Why would he?”

Satoru was on another mission now, and he was always on a mission without Suguru nowadays.

Why would he? When Satoru has become The Strongest? He alone could exorcise any curses and complete any missions. There was no need for “The Strongest Duo” to be together on a team anymore, a redundancy that the higher-ups have gleefully taken advantage of, with the endless stream of missions divided between Satoru and Suguru, the two Special-Grade sorcerers who have yet to even graduated.

Something sour arose at the back of his throat, tasting much like wet spew and bile, not unlike the balls of curses that he has countlessly swallowed. Curses, the leftover of human deprivation, akin to gulping down a rag full of vomit. He swallowed them. Again, and again and again and again--

Tap. Tap.

Tap.

“Well, for one,” Kakashi started, and it appeared that he finally has enough with Suguru’s attempt of subversion, for he reached over and took Suguru’s cigarettes, the action meeting with only slight resistance on Suguru’s part before he pocketed the pack into the bedside drawer; Suguru mentally added ‘buying smokes’ to his do-to-list. “You look like the slightest gust of wind could carry you away like a twig, as you eloquently said earlier, and by default, you’re comparing yourself to me, and I’m not exactly the very picture of health, you know?”

Suguru said nothing, unable to deny it.

“And secondly, Shoko-san mentioned that you’re always moping around nowadays, so much that you’re taking away Nanami-san’s job.”

At that, Suguru felt a mixture of embarrassment and anger. One, because being compared to be as sullen as Nanami was quite an accomplishment by itself, no one was as pessimistic as that guy. But such fleeting emotion was quickly eroded by pure, blind rage, one that raged so vividly that for a moment, all he could hear was white static. Because what could someone like Kakashi possibly understand? The pain and agony that comes with being a sorcerer, of being forced to deal with the worst of humanity have to offer, the remnants of that ugliness crawling back and taking away the living. To be sent to their deaths, alone--

And for whom do they have to sacrifice their lives for?

For the weak.

For the selfish.

A burden, a responsibility of the strong--

 A sting of pain quickly broke him away from his spiralling thoughts—

He glanced down. Small rivulets of blood were seeping from his palm, dripping lazily to soak the knee of his pants. Uncurling his fingers, he hastily wiped it away, hoping that the other didn’t see--

Suguru blinked, and then suddenly, there was a whole tangerine in his hand.

“You can talk to me if you want.” At Suguru’s blank look, Kakashi continued rather awkwardly, making motions with his hands. Even when he was the one who offered, Suguru could see how awkward Kakashi was, like a fish floundering on land. Still, his words sounded earnest despite his clear discomfort. “…I admit that we… are mere acquaintances, but I can lend an ear if you wish for it.”

Kakashi smiled then, with a kind, soft expression. “Consider it as thanks for your company.” He paused, before giving a gentle chime, “And for being Satoru’s friend.”

Friend uh…

“I…” Suguru fumbled with the fruit, gripping it a little too tightly between two hands. He took a deep breath, feeling his chest abruptly constricted, unwanted memories swimming in his mind even as he tried to sort through the mess of sluggish thoughts to grab for words. Kakashi’s own words has some truth to them; the connection between them was only due to Satoru, Kakashi a near stranger at this point. Still, Suguru found himself reaching for the offer, if only to ease some of the pressure that kept accumulating on his chest. “…am conflicted.” He admitted finally, feeling drained just with the short admission. “About some stuff. Stuff that before I was so sure about but now…”

‘We will protect your future’.

The future that never meant to be, cruelly taken away.

‘Protect the weak and keep the strong in check’.

Maybe he’s not as strong as he believed he was, maybe the weak weren’t as weak.

After all…

Riko Amanai’s blood had splattered right in front of him. Despite Suguru being there. Despite Satoru being there as well.

At the hands of that person, who had not a shred of cursed energy inside of him.

…

But Satoru has managed to move on from that event, coming out even stronger than before.

While Suguru has stayed rooted in place, haunted by his own inadequacy and lamentations.

…

Kakashi allowed Suguru his temporary silence.

“Gojo-san,” Suguru’s dark eyes glittered when he lifted his head to stare directly into the storm, an almost manic sheen in them as he asked, “Why do you want to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer?”

“To help,” came the swift answer, Kakashi barely batting an eyelash at the abrupt question. “To offer whatever aid I could to you, Satoru, and the others. Given that I was…born with these circumstances, I think, that at least, I should make do with whatever that I am given with…An idyllic life is not something that I am accustomed to anyway.”

It reminded Suguru that Kakashi is only two years older than him.

Just a young, brash teen, who thought that he could take on whatever the world throws at him and remained unscathed at the end of it all. To do good, because to do otherwise is simply unthinkable.

Just like--

“So simple?” This time, Suguru could not help the sarcastic, almost bitter edge that seeped into his words, betraying his truth on the matter. He tried to blink away the mirage of a white room, surrounded by faceless monsters in human skin, and the echoing sound of thunderous applause, but it stayed still in the corners.

Kakashi hummed.

“And why do you fight, Suguru-kun?”

Even though he should have expected being asked of that in return, Suguru found himself at a total loss. He looked down once more, staring through the hand that was now covered with sticky fruit juice, the tangerine an unfortunate mess of a pulp in his palm. Suguru was grateful that Kakashi did not point out his bursts of anger, and apologetically deposited the mess back into the plastic bag he has brought.

‘Jujutsu exist to protect non-jujutsu sorcerers’

One upon a time, he was able to utter those words. Recite them like a mantra, over and over, like a conviction that only he could uphold.

“…I don’t know anymore.” Suguru said blankly. It was an endless vicious cycle.

Still, one thing was for certain, a certain reality, a certain part of himself that might have been there all along but buried under the pretense of righteousness, that Suguru has finally accepted after his talk with Yuki Tsukumo.

Those damn non-sorcerers.

Those damn monkeys.

Suguru absolutely loathed them.

“I can’t say much because, and admittedly, I don’t know you that well aside from the stories of your adventures with Satoru,” Kakashi’s voice pierced through the hazy cloud of red, calm, and unjudging. “But I reckon…maybe, you should talk with Satoru about all of your…ah, dilemma?”

Suguru’s eyes snapped upwards to linger on silvery strands, unable to fully meet the stormy gaze. The anger ebbed away, replaced with confusion. “…Talk with Satoru.” He parroted, akin to a broken puppet.

Kakashi nodded, looking quite grave and meek suddenly. “Admittedly, such advice coming from one such as me is…kind of ironic, but out of all the people here, I can tell…that Satoru is the one who understands…will understand you the most.”

For a moment, Kakashi quietened, as if he himself was thinking of something. His expression turned melancholic, and Suguru waited for further elaboration, but his thoughts remained his own. The man looked so lost in his reflections that Suguru contemplated leaving, as rude as that was, but just as Suguru turned towards the door, Kakashi spoke up so softly that Suguru almost didn’t hear him. “Please think of Satoru’s feelings as well, Suguru-kun.”

Suguru stilled; in contrast to his earlier meek demeanour, Kakashi’s words were hardened like steel, and combined with the penetrating glare that he could feel bearing into the back of his neck, Suguru felt like a particularly tall slab of meat standing in front of a voracious wolf. A bead of sweat ran down his cheek unbiddenly, the smell of ozone stifling the still air.

Was this…Kakashi’s technique? Suguru resisted the urge to response with his own, lest they alert the school of the unregistered cursed energy signature. Still the pressure alone was great; in the face of such tumultuous amount of cursed energy, Suguru now has no doubt how Kakashi has managed to exorcise a First-Grade curse on his very first mission as a sorcerer. He had caught a glimpse of that mission report; it had been a doozy to read; apparently one of Satoru’s first acts of Clan of Head had pissed off the elders even more than he usually would have. A lot of mission protocols were ignored as well; the absence of an auxiliary manager, a Curtain not being put up. How the supposed Second Grade had turned into a First Grade, making the assignment way out of the capabilities of the 2^nd Years. Not to mention, the publicity mess that had to be covered up because Kakashi has apparently incinerated a whole portion of the forest just to exorcise the curse.

Gojo Satoru’s brother indeed.

And, Suguru has the inkling that if he was to say otherwise to Kakashi’s prompt, it would mean certain death. A crackle of static electricity confirmed his thoughts.

Still, the statement required nothing but the truth, and so Suguru replied, “…I always have.”

When the heavy, static-laden tension disappeared, Suguru swiftly excused himself from the company, his mind a jumbling mass of emotions, mumbling a half-response when he received a faux cheerful “Thanks” and a “Take care” from the Gojo just before he shut the door close.

It was only when he was halfway down the corridor that Suguru allowed himself to stop, leaning against the wall for support as he tried to fight off the headache and nausea that continued to grow heavier with each passing second. He rubbed at his eyes wearily, wondering if he should just forgo his trip to town and just go back to his room to try to sleep off the achiness.

Yet, he mulled over Kakashi’s words; perhaps a talk with Satoru might do Suguru’s wavering sanity some good. Even though Satoru has himself, hidden some secrets from Suguru.

As if Suguru, with his inherent technique of Cursed Spirit Manipulation and his body a festering nest full of hundreds of curses, could miss the newer, darker patch of cursed energy that has sewn itself onto Kakashi’s being. Whatever has transpired during the time when Suguru was busy exorcising a curse on the other side of Japan, Satoru never told.

Suguru wanted to be affronted, but he was so damn tired, and admittedly, he missed Satoru’s shenanigans and pure loudness. He was not intentionally avoiding Satoru per se, but he was not making the effort to try to meet up during the once-in-a-blue-moon missions’ respites either. He could let slide a secret or two, if only to get Satoru’s company once more.

Maybe after his next mission though…

Until then, it was just him, and his thoughts alone.

.

.

.

The sound of splashing water accompanied by rambunctious laughter and an angry yell broke Geto Suguru of the present from his thoughts, and he cracked open an eye to smile at the cursed spirit who has Mount Fuji for a head, currently being assaulted by a mischievous more-humanoid shaped curse, one who was indecently more naked.

“–and don’t think you’re off the hook just yet, Geto you prick!” The patch-faced spirit was still saying, or rather ranting, and Suguru pressed his cheek against a palm from his seat of a nearby stone. He has been sitting there, lost in thoughts for quite a while, while the other two curses were busy using the natural hot spring to heal from their respective battles. If he was being correct in his assumption, the curse has been ranting for a grand total of ten minutes.

Impressive. At how human the action was.

“Ah, to be quite frank, Mahito, I’m surprised you’ve managed to escape.” Suguru stuck out his tongue in playfulness, smirking at the splash of water that was done in retaliation.

“Bastard!” Despite his words, Mahito swam up to him with a rather joyful laugh, coming to rest his head on the bank. “I thought you said he was a Semi 1^st Grade! That was definitely not a first-grade sorcerer. He almost got me!” He sounded way too excited about his near-death experience.

“Well, he almost certainly did, but you’re still alive, aren’t you? And you appeared to have learned a lot from the encounter to be truly angry about it, don’t you?”

“True, true!”

“Also, I did not lie.” Suguru pretended to be miffed, a mocking pout of his lips. “His official records certainly stated that he is in fact, only ranked as a Semi 1st Grade.”

“Lies! Lies I tell you!” Mahito crackled, apparently now back to swimming laps around a disgruntled Jogo. He splashed jovially. “If that sorcerer’s a Semi 1^st Grade, then I’m a monkey’s uncle!”

“I don’t see the difference between you and a monkey anyway, with you in that current form,” Jogo said.

“He’s different.” Ignoring the other’s jab, Mahito said with a curious sort of glee, rubbing his hands together. Suguru wisely chose not to point out that the other looked very much like a scheming fly doing that, lest he wanted Mahito’s ire upon him again. The water sloshed noisily in tandem with his vigorous movements. “He’s different in that his [Soul] is something that even I had never seen before. And his techniques!” The curse laughed. “Impressive! Too bad the sorcerer didn’t bother to elaborate or use a [Cursed Restriction]. Even the 7:3 sorcerer was more polite in that regard~”

“Was that the purpose of testing him out? That you’re even willing to even sacrifice some of the curse users on our side?” Jogo grunted grumpily as Mahito continued to splash around in the hot spring water much like a child. He didn’t try to do anything about it though, probably knowing that no one can’t really stop Mahito from doing what he wanted. “You mentioned before that he’s related to Gojo Satoru, but the obscurity made me doubtful. No fame to the guy, despite his apparent lineage. It would be fit to call him his shadow instead.” He clapped his hands almost in delight at a sudden idea. “Gojo Satoru’s Shadow.” The curse awed at his own brilliance, taking a brief smoke from his pipe.

Geto Suguru smiled, as if he has just been shared a very funny joke.

“Funnily enough, that’s what the curse users on the streets have been calling him.” Suguru slouched forward, placing his cheek on a palm. “Though it’s not precisely of his relations with Gojo Satoru that they call him that. They don’t know of his true blood relation, but they do know of the infamy of the one sorcerer who worked under him. The man’s more than proficient at exorcising curses yes. But he’s more well-known for chasing down estranged sorcerers, or…eliminating them, if you will.”

Perking his head up in interest at that, Mahito asked in a naive fashion:

“Even you, Geto?”

Suguru laughed merrily, a two-faced sort of sound. Akin to a harmonious bell calling for execution. “Even me, yes.”

Jogo appeared to have enough with Mahito’s shenanigans, for he stood up, waddling his way to the bank.

“So, what now?” He asked. “Any alterations?”

The usual smile. “Not at all. We still proceed with what we’d agreed with, of course.”

Retrieve all the six fingers at Jujutsu High. And offer them to Sukuna. Nullify the perpetual threat that is Gojo Satoru. No matter the costs. That was the plan he told the cursed spirits. Gojo Kakashi was an interesting addition certainly, but ultimately, no more important than the rest of the Jujutsu sorcerers who do not possess the Six Eyes. He was just curious to see how the boy has grown up since the last time he has seen him.  

And if the man proved to get in the way of the plan…

Well, he was always a person who has multiple contingency arrangements just in case.

Especially if the curse inside the man was the very same one that he was thinking of. A particular detail that even he might have missed if not for the graciousness of his host.

Ah, memories are such wonderful things.

-x-

The cold has always been something that, despite all his years of living through two lifetimes (three actually, if you count that time he was revived after the destruction of the village at the hands of Pein), that Kakashi can never get used to. Back during the era when the Shinobi arts still influenced the lands, the climate of Konohagakure was almost always sweltering hot and humid, days of endless summers drifting by in his livelihood, a natural pleasantry thanks to its location in the heart of Hi no Kuni, the Land of Fire, no doubt. As such, Kakashi remembered the few times he has touched snow, a special oddity that he would remember always. All of them had occurred in the Land of Snow of course; the first time was during his time in the ANBU, his team being sent in response to the distress message sent by the blooming alliance between the village and the Kingdom of Snow, and despite the urgency, Kakashi remembered that his footsteps have ceased the moment his mismatched eyes laid upon another realm quite unlike the one he was accustomed to.

Pure white, a gradient of bluish frost that saturated the ground and the sky above. There was a certain hush that befell the silent landscape, the branches and limbs of the trees and bushes become weighted with the frozen crystals. Kakashi’s sensitive nose picked up an almost crisp odour, the scent of the ice perhaps.

Snow and Ice might be the few elements that Kakashi can never get used to, despite his efficiency with multiple nature of Ninjutsu. Maybe because he was a scarecrow through and through, made to be planted during the warm weather in the paddy fields with only the blue sky and the occasional storms pelting at his straw hat, billowing at his clothes full of holes from the pecking of the crows. Winter was a time he was removed from the field, be brought into the storeroom to rest if the farmers were kind enough, the anomaly of a world shielded from the warmth of the sun was something he has a hard time grasping.

Indeed, the frost fascinated him. He remembered bringing up a hand to catch a falling snowflake, watching it rest on his palm. As he watched it slowly melted from his warmth, he heard another set of footsteps approaching through the winter wonderland, a quiet trudging of crushing piles of slushes beneath spiked heels, before coming to a stop to his right.

The Cat-shaped ANBU mask reflected what little light of their surroundings.

“I reckon I can easily lose you in the snow.” Tenzou has said teasingly. He gestured a hand over his Captain, who was obviously adorning the usual white-and-black colours of the ANBU, and with his natural silvery white haircolouring, who can blame the man for thinking so.

Kakashi has scoffed at that, wiping his wet palm at his unfortunately thin jacket, before sobriety has settled back in. Still, he let Tenzou marvel at the unusual sight of the landscape for a moment more, so drastically different from the greenery from back home, before barking orders to his team to refocus on the mission. The bitter winds scuffed against his unprotective skin, making his blood curl.

Hatake Kakashi was intrigued by the snow and ice, but ultimately, he felt nothing of it. Just another weather to drag his beaten, exhausted body through, the mush of the ice dripping uncomfortably into the cress of wet bandages that were wrapped gauchely around his injuries, the eye of his dead friend sapping what left of his reserves as he painted the white landscape with crimson, either of his own or the enemies. It was a cold, harsh land, where almost nothing can survive in its extremities.

Gojo Kakashi, on the other hand…

“Are you cold?”

“Hmm.” Kakashi gave an affirmative hum, and Satoru, the silly worrywart, instantly fumbled with the coiled bunch of fabric around his neck, the motion made almost clumsy in his haste to unravel it. They were at last, in Sapporo, trekking slowly through the nearly empty streets side-by-side, Satoru telling snippets of ridiculous shows that he has seen on the Internet. Kakashi was content to just listen to Satoru’s endless rambles, only chiming in occasionally to remind Satoru where they needed to turn lest they ended up walking around in circles (again), but as they trudged on, Kakashi found himself burying his neck deeper into the collar of his sweater, an attempt to ward off the cold.

 Never mind the fact that it was colder than what the weather forecast has predicted, Sapporo, and the prefecture of Hokkaido, was a substantially cold region, but today it was exceptionally so, especially since it was still, technically summer. He sniffed at the cold air, already savouring the familiar scent of the ice.  Though, it was tinged with something else, laced with the underlying current of ash and smoke. It was not from the industrial sources typical of a large city like Sapporo; rather, it was a more natural scent, and somehow, Kakashi identified it as a recognisable one.

In fact, the whole grounds felt familiar, calling out to him, resonating with him, as if Kakashi has been here before. Or rather, another aspect of himself…

Were you here before, Obito? Walking down these very streets, laying his presence down amongst the living, somehow avoiding Jujutsu sorcerers of the modern era. Or perhaps it was at another time, maybe during a period when Kakashi has not even be reborn yet. Millenniums before, even. On that day, you had died, yet, you had lived on, to be forged as a curse. Were your regrets that strong? Or were you disappointed, that I could even keep my last promise, dying almost immediately after you? Did you hate me, for being unable to live on as your eyes?

…If so, then why did you come back to me?

These questions, echoed deep within him, hoping that somehow, one day, he might receive a reply.

Obito never answered.

It was very disappointing, knowing that the source of all his issues was literally right inside of him, but who was Uchiha Obito, if he didn’t inconvenient Kakashi somehow? Stupid Obito, Kakashi thought with a fond, tiny smile, accompanied with that usual ache in his heart. Always the troublemaker.

“Won’t you get chilly as well?” Kakashi asked as Satoru began wrapping his scarf, the one that no doubt cost no less than 100 000 yen, around the older’s neck. Kakashi did not want Satoru to give up his own comfort for Kakashi’s sake. He admitted, however, that he felt marginally warmer, nosing into the woolly fabric with a certain sort of joy; a certain sense of regret began sipping in because why didn’t he wear two layers as his brother did? Sure, his own sweater was thick, but with the abrupt decline in temperature, he could feel the waft of coldness sipping through the material, sending meager trembles up his frame. He sensed his cheeks has reddened from being rebuffed by the icy winds, the stinginess of the cold making it harder to freely move his fingers. He has half a sense to use some Cursed energy to warm himself up, as he used to do so with Chakra back in the day, but he reckons Satoru would immediately notice and scowl at him in disapproval, especially with his depleted reserves and all.

“Nah, it’s fine~” Satoru responded, finishing off the last of his coiling until Kakashi resembled a wrapped multi-coloured burrito, buried underneath all the layers. Hiding a snicker, he resisted the urge to snap a picture right there and then; maybe later, when Kakashi is distracted enough to not immediately confiscated his phone. Kakashi doesn’t particularly like having his pictures taken, something that Satoru doesn’t quite understand, but Satoru will only pester him occasionally for one so that he can show them off later to some unfortunate individual who just happened to be in the vicinity when Satoru is bored. (“Look at here, look here~ Isn’t he the cutest?” “Gojo-san, please stop referring to Gojo-shi as if he’s a cat that you’re showing off.”)

Satoru waggled his fingers, showing off how perfectly fine and warm they were. “I mitigated the cold winds with my Infinity you see~ So I’m fine as heck! But, Nii-san on the other hand…”

“Maybe we should have brought gloves as well.” Satoru noted, tilting his head when Kakashi rubbed his arms when a particular chilly gust blew through, his fingers curling into his sleeves.

And Kakashi should have brought himself a scarf from the very beginning as well, not that he was going to admit that. “It’s fine.” He instead said, adjusting the scarf so he would look less like a walking pile of woolen spaghetti.

“Idiots don’t get cold anyway,” Kakashi teased, and Satoru immediately puffed up in response to this usual tango of sibling jester, his cheeks flushing red anyway.

“Kakashi-nii is not an idiot!” Satoru exclaimed.

“I wasn’t talking about me,” Kakashi said, immediately grinning when Satoru threw him a sour look with an exaggerated pout.

Ah, he loves messing with Satoru.

“Meanie.” Satoru whined, though his lips were quivering into a smile. He continued with a flourish, spinning on his heels to poke Kakashi repeatedly in his chest. “Also, can you believe when I decided to grace Nanamin with my presence here last time, he called it sad!”

“Oh?” Kakashi quipped interestedly.

“Yeah! Something about two men – two Jujutsu sorcerers at that, wandering around enjoying delicious food, sad. The nerve.” Satoru said, voice louder than dynamite. What little amount of people loitering on the pathway were starting to stare at them, and Kakashi could feel that his flush was now not only due to the cold, burying his face deeper into Satoru’s scarf.

It felt like Satoru was still about to continue his tirade of complaints, but whatever else he was trying to say deteriorated into a squeal of excitement, a higher-pitched sound that sounded like it was coming from a high school girl instead of a man of his stature and status. Kakashi watched as his brother ran off like an overzealous dog that just got unleashed, a tangle of limbs taking purposely long strides upon the icy pavement. He cranked his neck to see what is it that has set Satoru into an excitable mess and has to hide an amused snort when he saw the quite inconspicuous little stand located right at the end of the street.

Despite the weather, or maybe because of it, the vendor was still cheerfully calling out for potential customers, the colourful street kiosk a small dot in the distance, but a beckoning visage, nonetheless. At the sight of the food stand that he has been so very excited about, Satoru bolted towards his destination, mowing straight through a loving young couple like he was merely parting a curtain, breaking apart their romantic embrace beneath the snowfall.

At their glare, Kakashi muttered an apology beneath his bundle of fabric, the sound muffled, before hurrying past them.

Kakashi huffed, feeling his lungs burned from inhaling too much of the cold air in his effort to catch up. Still, when he finally reached where Satoru was, he could not resist the swat at the other’s too thick of a skull, relishing in the groan of discontentment at the assault.

“Don’t just run away like that. Here, hold my hand.”

Slowly, Kakashi made a deliberate move to grab Satoru’s wrist gently and unhurriedly, giving Satoru time to deactivate his technique. He knew that the other rarely forgone Infinity when he was in public, an instinct that by now has practically ingrained into him, steering him through the streets.

Satoru smiled at him as if he was at the butt of a private joke.

“What?” Casting a suspicious glance at him, Kakashi prodded.  

His otōto’s bright eyes crinkled even more at the dubious tone. “Oh no, I just...Hahaha! Nii-san, did you forget you just hit me? I find it. Hi-la-ri-ous~! That you’re waiting for me to drop Infinity just so you can grab my hand. It’s already down by like…5 seconds ago.”

“…Oh.” He never really did realise that. Kakashi doesn’t activate the Sharingan outside of fights anyway, as they were meant to be kept discreet, and trying to distinguish through layers of cursed energy otherwise, especially when it involved cursed techniques, was akin to shifting his hands deep through murky mud, unknowing of what is inside. He reckons only Satoru could do so accurately, with his Six Eyes and all.

Satoru hummed, a whisper of laughter in the melody. “Or rather…It’s already down for you. Considering I’d mastered Infinity to the point that I’m able to decide what does and doesn't touch me automatically...Nii-san’s the only one who can touch me without triggering it.”

Kakashi blinked, thoroughly surprised at that statement. “You trust me that much?” Considering that Infinity is Satoru’s literal best and last line of defense, able to protect him against literal anything, the notion was…alien. Flattering.

To that, his younger brother wore a soft, delicate smile, an answer by itself.

They got to the stand, side-by-side, greeting the seller cheerfully. When Satoru got a little bit too overzealous in his number of orderings, Kakashi quietly reminded him to calm down, because they also have lunch to think about. Satoru relented with a pout, but his usual cheeriness returned when the vendor handed them each a serving of roasted potato, wrapped completely in aluminum foil.

After unraveling the sheet, Kakashi bit into the roasted potato.

Warm. Savoury. The flesh practically melted on his taste buds. He unintentionally let out a satisfied moan at the delicate, heavenly taste, subtly sweet yet mild, ignoring his brother’s snickering in the background at his reaction. He’ll let this slide because no wonder Satoru was obsessed with these for a while, they were just that good. In the cold weather, it was the perfect snack to munch on as they both continued to stroll through the streets, Satoru sneaking his hand around Kakashi’s, their fingers now lacing together.

How much bigger was it now, the very same hand that used to be so small and tiny, its owner barely reaching the middle of Kakashi’s waist.

Kakashi snuggled deeper into the cress of the scarf, contented.

It smelled like home.

And with Satoru by his side, it felt even more of an abode for Kakashi.

.

.

.

Jujutsu sorcerers work around the clock, and though they have somewhat of a regular schedule, it extends merely to sorcerers of certain grades. The higher ranked ones, especially considering they were severely understaffed most of the time, meant that they could easily be called in for an assignment at any time of the day, even if it was at a convenient time of two in the morning.

For a Special Grade and a Head of Clan like Satoru, he was exceptionally busy, with him being the literal apex of the Jujutsu world. There are no breaks or downtimes for the great Gojo Satoru.

And so, it was inevitable for Kakashi and Satoru to discuss the events that had occurred in the past several weeks. They made their way into the heart of Susukino, to one of the distinguish Jingisukan joints. There was a rather long queue of people waiting outside to be seated, but fortunately, Satoru had booked a reservation in advance, and after informing the seater, they were brought past the main dining area to further back, towards where the private rooms were situated.

“The Special Grade curse spirit,” Kakashi started, after thanking the waitress. She took the menu away and retreated after a small bow. He drummed his fingers lightly on the table. “The one that Yuuji and Nanami-san fought. With his dangerous ability, high intelligence and being able to communicate as effectively as a human, he may possibly be associated with the other Special Grade, the one that you fought. Also, right before he escaped, he revealed something interesting. That he knows of my relation to you, despite neither me, Yuuji, or Nanami-san saying anything about it.”

Despite the frown, the glint in Satoru’s eyes was apparent, deepening the cerulean jewels to a darker shade of Lapis lazuli. Kakashi knew him enough to know that something had just clicked in that miraculously bright mind of his. “Then my theory is correct.” He ran a hand through his tousled locks, pushing aside his glasses in the process. “That there is a spy. An inside job, one who supply information to the curses.”

“A spy.” Kakashi repeated, hand in cheek as he mulled it over. As he churned the information over in his head, the probability of it being true increases. Kakashi’s last few assignments had dealt with curse users, and they were strangely coordinated, with one of them seemed to be even aware of Kakashi’s abilities. It had taken Kakashi a few days to deal with that particular case, because of how quickly that person had scrambled away. In fact, as Kakashi recalled each mission one-by-one, one would think that they were out solely for him.

Curse users were usually independent, each out with the purpose of their preserving their own skins. Loyalty is not a virtue that they would know of. Still, the fact that it could be someone that Kakashi might know, might have been working alongside in the past, made his blood chill. Who was it, to be willing to sell out information regarding their own comrades, to curses out of all things?

The traitor might even be one of the students, but Kakashi does not want to think about that prospect yet. Not that it was improbable, considering Jujutsu techniques and capabilities ultimately care not about one’s age, although Kakashi will warrant his suspicions on the higher-ups and the adults first, before working his way down.

Being a professional jujutsu sorcerer in the current world is a tough career, and not all persons born with the talent for jujutsu employ it to expel curses. Those who stray from such obligations, are curse users, sorcerers who use jujutsu for evil and malicious deeds. Typically, they could freely make money by operating in the underworld and doing any dark deed asked of them. Bounties are commonplace in the jujutsu underworld. Though the activities of curse users have greatly decreased since Satoru’s birth, there were still quite a few numbers popping up time-to-time, leeching off the insecurities of the feeble and the weak, every so often even murdering.

Since Jujutsu High is usually short on jujutsu sorcerers, and those that they do have are often busy, most of Kakashi’s time was spent dealing with those types, mainly.

After all, he was already used to these kinds of missions, with his years of service in the ANBU.

“I reckon that there might be more curse users conspiring with the Special Grades curses as well, alongside with the mole.” When Satoru expressed his agreement, Kakashi laced his fingers together in thought, “Then I suppose that my next mission would be tracking down the active ones in the streets and see if these dots connect as we thought they are.” It would be the logical move after all, the threat of humans conspiring with intelligent curses, Special Grades at that, was concerning.

Because it meant that they are banding together against their common enemy: the Jujutsu sorcerers. Them.

They took a brief pause from the discussion, as their order has arrived. Numerous colourful plates of sliced raw mutton, steamed vegetables, and bowls of rice with miso soup were spread evenly across the mahogany table. Satoru snatched up one of the Korean dumplings he had ordered as the appetiser while Kakashi took a quick sip of his super dry beer, savouring in its utter bitterness. Perfect. Strong and refreshing. Just how he likes it, even if Satoru was giving him the stink eye for the alcoholic beverage from across the table.

As they waited for the mutton slices to be cooked on the grill, the mouth-watering sizzling and delightful aroma of roasted meat and grilled vegetables slowly wafting through the air, the conversation resumed. “Actually, I want you to lay low for a while.” Satoru said after a few brief seconds of contemplation. He leaned back against his seat, crossing his legs. “Don’t forget that you’re supposed to be recovering as well. I don’t want to send you in a wild goose chase across Japan on a mere probability.”

“A fine thought, Satoru, truly, but if it’s for the sake of the mis—“

Satoru interrupted him with a kick to his right shin. Which, ouch, hurts. Satoru certainly didn’t pull any punches –ah, kicks. “Nah. Don’t do that. Again.” He scowled, and Kakashi looked away. He heard a harsh huff, one that was heavy. “…Let’s focus on the concrete first. The mole. And it would be better to wait first for the rats to recollect themselves. After all, as the saying goes: When the cat’s away, the rats will come out and play. Or was it mice?  Meh. Anyway, as of now, you’re going to join in as one of the faculty members overseeing the upcoming Kyoto Goodwill event. Help keep an eye out for any...unwarranted behaviour. Especially since the old farts are going to find out about Yuuji.” Satoru reared back with a mocking laugh at this, probably imagining the fallout.

“I’ve already asked Shoko to fill you in as the healer on-site if the little kiddies get injured butting heads with one another.”

A little ‘ding’ of a just-then received text message informed Kakashi all he needed to know that all of this was Satoru last-minute planning again. Ugh. Seems like Kakashi will have to go to the Infirmary later to get some medical supplies to keep up the pretence. He can use medical ninjutsu, yes, but only to a certain extent. He didn’t suffer through the education hell that was Medical School like Shoko did, though Satoru did inform him, with a smug grin, that his former classmate mighttttt have cheated to get her doctor license.

…How reassuring.

“And I’m dragging Utahime into the operation, with her being the teacher at the Kyoto school. It’ll make it easier to sort through and figure out the mole. Not that she knows it yet, but ehhh, I’ll talk to her about it on the day of the event.”

“…And what makes you think that she’s not the mole?” He has a feeling that he was going to regret asking.

“Oh, she’s not!” With a snap of his fingers, Satoru replied rather cheerfully. “She’s rather weak, so!”

Kakashi’s really not that surprised at the insensitivity, but he did deliver back a little kick at the other’s ankle. No wonder Utahime hated Satoru’s guts. No wonder Utahime hated Kakashi’s guts, if she thinks that Kakashi is the sort of enabling older sibling that she thinks he is (He totally is, by the way).

With that figured out, Satoru, apparently satisfied with his current state of planning, proceeded to finish off the last of the savoury dumplings with a gleeful chomp.

Turning his attention back to his own plate, Kakashi frowned as he counted the slices of meat on his side.

Kakashi glared half-heartedly to his darling younger brother from across the table, who was now happily munching on his perfectly cooked and roasted meat no doubt. “Brat. Stop taking my portion. I know you did.”

“I did not!” Satoru had the nerve to act shocked, his eyes wide. “Even if I did –which I totally did not, by the way—it’s perfectly deserved! Look at how much bigger your slices are! Inequality! Inequality, I tell you!”

“They’re. The. Same. Size.”

“Nu uh! Yours is like! One millimetre bigger!” The overgrown bamboo shoot then proceeded to show how much of a big difference that was by pinching his fingers close together, a barely visible gap between his thumb and index finger. “By thissss much, see!”

“Fine. Fine. Then it’s only fair if I—“  Kakashi’s chopsticks were swiftly intercepted before they reached their designated target.

“Hands off, Nii-san! These are rightfully mine! Mine, I say!”

“Why you little--!”

“Sirs, is everything al—“

Cling. Crash!

They ended up ordering another platter.

.

.

.

Still, even despite everything, the dreams remained. Decreased in frequency over time, but stay they did.

Kakashi gave a small smile to Rin, who grinned back with specks of blood in her teeth. She was milder than usual, maybe with the divine air of the North reigning her in. Kakashi could deal with her like this, though he would not actively meet the gaping hole in her chest. Both were seated in a familiar setting, the same endless field of honeysuckles and lilacs that Kakashi had seen so much over the years, though at one point, scorched marks adorned the earth, patches of burnt, wilted flowers a sore disparity amongst the healthy, blooming ones. The clouds overhead drifted by lazily, leaving streaks of black over the rosy sky.

Rin was busy doing something, picking up the occasional flowers as they sway in the ashen breeze, and while Kakashi was content to quietly ignore her, he glanced over when she called out to him, happily showed him the misshapen flower wreath that she had made.

Through the blurred, stifled atmosphere, he heard a knock, the sound rippling through the air as if they were in an echo chamber.

“I have to go.” Kakashi stood up, dusting imaginary dirt from his pants. It was hard, they stuck beneath his fingernails akin to dried blood.

“So soon?” Rin asked, her voice distorted and crackled like static on television. Her expression turned murky, like washed-up mud. “Must you go? You rarely visit me anymore, Kakashi-kun.”

Turning away, Kakashi said nothing, trying to ignore the way his heart started racing. This was one of those rare instances where Rin sounded human, talking, and breathing as if she was not a product of Kakashi’s imagination of a girl who lived and perished long ago. Not even when she continued sadly, a static hum filling the humid air, “…Even Obito stopped as well.”

The sky was still red as Kakashi turned his back to her, the flowers surrounding them drooping even more to the ground as he--

…

Kakashi blinked blearily awake.

The hotel room he was in was dark, the only source of light giving the atmosphere a light blueish wash, the streetlights flickering from behind the closed curtains. When he glanced at the electronic clock located on the bedside, it blinked back at him with large, neon red fonts; 3:00 AM. He rolled over to the edge of the bed, shivering when his feet touched the slightly cold floor. The heater must have accidentally turned off somewhere during the night.

The knocking has ceased, but Kakashi could still make out the hefty presence waiting on the other side, a very recognizable signature beckoning him.

Kakashi swung open the door, lightly calling out for the other:

“Satoru?”

His younger brother stood there; with shoulders slumped and hair tousled messily. The plain white shirt that he wore as his nightwear was extremely wrinkled, and as he leaned heavily against the doorframe, Kakashi caught the paleness of his complexion, his half-lidded eyes shadowed with hazy torment. Just as Kakashi was about to prompt Satoru, other stumbled into Kakashi’s fortunately already waiting arms like a drunk person. But Kakashi knew better than to assume especially that, and his thought was settled in the next second.

“…Nightmares.” Satoru mumbled against his neck, voice thick from anxiety and lack of proper sleep. He brought up his arms to cling desperately to Kakashi, hands fisting the back of his shirt in great distress.

Kakashi could not hide his grimace at the revelation.

The content of Satoru’s nightmares was something that the other rarely told him, but Kakashi was able to piece together the horrid details.

Occasionally, it was the remnant of being left right on his deathbed after the slow drag of a jagged blade slicing through the tendons in his neck, spilling crimson, before thrusting deep through his frontal cranial bone.    

The curses and bemoans of the civilians that Satoru had failed to save, deemed as unavoidable sacrifices, follow him in his dream sometimes.

Oftentimes it was the blood of his best friend clinging deep into the pores of his skin and under his fingernails that haunts him the most.

It was somewhat a herculean task dragging Satoru’s heavier and taller form to his bed, but Kakashi managed. The bed creaked minutely under their combined weight, and Kakashi pulled the strewn blanket together for warmth, coaxing his brother further in so that his legs would stop hanging over the edge. He complied, though his mind was still elsewhere. Amidst the darkness, Satoru’s eyes were startlingly bright, glowing with brimming power even as he tried to pull Kakashi to join him beneath the warm covers. Kakashi resisted for a bit, wanting to first tend to Satoru. He inched back, only managing to place a foot on the floor before a grip on his wrist stopped him.

“I’m just going to get a glass of water for you,” Kakashi told him tenderly, brushing away some of the damp strands that clung to his brother’s forehead. With clouded hazy eyes, the other peered up at him, face scrunched in dissatisfaction, before slowly shaking his head, his hold tightening. “Don’t want any? …Okay.” He finally let himself be pulled down, the other shifting until that familiar weight rested against his own, their legs intertwined.

Satoru’s head tucked into Kakashi’s chest, his arms curling around Kakashi’s abdomen. He was very warm, akin to a literal furnace, and while Kakashi was very grateful for the heat source, he was concerned too. This was hardly the first time Satoru was greatly shaken by his bout of night terrors, and unfortunately, Kakashi knows by heart, that it will not be the last either. The only comfort Kakashi could really provide him was his presence, and Satoru always seem to calm down well enough when Kakashi gives him physical affections. Even now, as he was running his hand through the silvery white stresses, occasionally massaging and scratching the other’s scalp, Satoru let out deep, satisfied rumbles, pushing his head closer, chasing it. He obliged of course, in response to the silent request for more, but inside, his soul was torn, sad at this fleeting display of weakness, moments of being just human, that Satoru seldom shows now.   

Beyond these walls, everyone knows him as Gojo Satoru, The Strongest.

For Kakashi, always, Satoru was his younger brother before he was The Strongest.

A quiet, almost timid wish. “…Stay with me.”

And with only the moon as the witness, Kakashi said:

“…I will.”

.

.

.

“You’re back,” Nanami said. He was reading a rather discreet book while he sat prim and proper at one of the armchairs in the lounge, his usual eyewear gone and his cream jacket missing. He closed the paper bind book with proper care, before setting it back down in one of the magazine racks.

He stared pointedly at the mounds the size of golf balls on the two Gojo with a raised brow.

“Principle Yaga.” Kakashi and Satoru said simultaneously, rubbing at the welts on their heads. They did get their deserved repercussions after all, as well being forced to kneel and listen to a one-hour and a half lecture.

“Also, Nanaminnnnnnn,” Satoru leapt forward, his mask of cheeriness and mischief firmly in place, and presented a shiny, glossy bag directly in front of the other’s face with an ear-splitting grin. “I’ve got you a souvenir~ Am I not kind? Come on, come on, tell me I’m a kind and very handsome senpai~”

“I don’t want it.”

“It’s Sanporoku! One of Sapporo’s great specialties, it won the highest-ranked Gold Medal of the Monde Selection contest! Truly a delight! I’m giving you one-fifth of it~”

“You’re not listening, are you.”

“Hmmmmm, the glaze of milk and white chocolate just blending harmoniously together with each layer of perfectly baked batter truly makes it the Queen of Baumkuchen! Almost as perfect as me!”

You can practically hear the clench in Nanami’s jaw as he summoned all his leftover patience for the day. “I just said I don’t want it. Also, if you get someone a souvenir, the proper thing to do is to at least give them all of it.”

Satoru continued as if he didn’t hear Nanami, shaking the bag with fervour. “Hmm~ Too bad then, guess I get to keep it to myself!”

“Don’t say that as if you weren’t planning to do that all along,” Nanami shook his head, before turning to Kakashi, who was trying very hard to keep a straight face during the exchange. Judging by the deadpan look that Nanami was giving him, he didn’t think he succeeded very much. “Itadori-kun is resting back at the bunker. I don’t think he has eaten anything yet this evening, because I found him tearing up the training dolls in one of the outskirts grounds—“

“Oi oi, why are you reporting to Nii-san instead of me, eh?!” Satoru whined once he got tired of flaunting his dessert bags, which exceeded into the double digits in total. They had to pay way too high of an extra luggage fee to accommodate for Satoru’s shopping spree. He slung an arm right over the other man’s shoulder, leaning his weight heavily. “Nanamin~ I’m technically your superior, treat me with respect would cha?”

“…. When I told him to please be mindful of his healing injuries, he at least, relented to withdraw indoors. Though, he did ask me to provide him with some…leaves. Leaves from a tree.” The alleging stare that Nanami threw at Kakashi was pure sardonic as he ignored Satoru’s pout at being snubbed. “And I obliged, but I admit, I didn’t think that he was going to use them for training.” A hefty sigh. “Training when he’s supposed to be resting…It truly does remind me of a certain someone.”

“Like a certain someone,” Satoru agreed.

“Who?” Kakashi asked and got two equally blank expressions in return. Which was rude. Don’t answer his question then.

“I’ll go get him.” Placing his hands on his hips, Satoru declared. “At least I know Yuuji will appreciate my very generous offer of Sapporoku.” He turned up his nose, sticking out his tongue.

Nanami said nothing to that, but he did cross his arms and glared back in response. Honestly these two.

Somehow, Satoru managed to gather up all of his bags in one fell swoop of his arms, the disarray of plastic piling up until they almost entirely covered his cheeky grin. He opened the left entrance door with a nudge of his foot, but when he noticed Kakashi was not following behind him, Satoru gave him a questioning glance. “Nii-san?”

“Go on ahead.” Kakashi said. “I need to talk to Nanami-san about something first. Regarding the last mission.”

The speed of how fast Satoru’s expression changed from giddy deviant to abrupt confusion and skepticism was almost enough to cause him whiplash. He could feel Satoru’s vibrant eyes, hidden as they were behind his stylish glasses, slid slowly from Kakashi to Nanami, who crossed his arms almost defiantly to the stare.

“…Right,” The word rolled out slowly as Kakashi could feel Satoru’s doubt still linger for a split second more. But with a huff, his younger brother went and promptly teleported away, along with his multitude of desserts bags and all.

Slowly releasing his breath that he didn’t even know he was holding, Kakashi turned towards Nanami with a single-minded purpose, jutting out his chin. And maybe with a little bit of pride if he was being honest.

“When else? You were always running away otherwise.”

He was not running away. He did not. In fact, Kakashi was proving to Nanami that he was doing the exact opposite of the man’s statement by directly confronting him. Yeah. Kakashi wins this fight, no doubt.

It was easier to treat Nanami as just another work colleague. Kakashi could do that. He had done that, especially in the past. Right, just treat Nanami the same as always. Easy. It should be easy.

Still, the unfamiliar sense of confusion that has been plaguing him for months blossomed the moment he was alone with the man. He did not know what it was, this…this illness.

He stood directly in front of Nanami, who regarded him with a tilt of his head in acknowledgment.

“…Gojo-shi,” Nanami greeted him with his typical politeness, but Kakashi could make out the amusement quipped in his brow. Ass. “You look well…and confident.”

Kakashi took a deep breath. Right. He could do this.

“I know you just went there recently last time,” Kakashi said, and he reached into one of his own bags to pull out a nicely wrapped square-shaped box, which looked substantially hefty. “But I brought back some beer. Sapporo beer is amongst the finest after all.” He pushed them rather hurriedly into the other’s arms, “I managed to sneak away to the nearest alcohol shop when Satoru was too busy buying out all the souvenirs.”

“Souvenirs?”

“For the Kyoto students, he said.”

“Gojo-san bought souvenirs from Hokkaido to give them to the Kyoto students.” Nanami repeated slowly, as if he was trying to process the words. “When they’re here, visiting Tokyo for the event.”

Kakashi shrugged almost helplessly.

“Right,” Nanami’s face appeared to be aloof, except for the minute twitch in his brow. “Right,” He exhaled heavily, probably deeming that it was wiser not to question anything that the younger Gojo does anymore.

Kakashi indulged anyway, if only to lessen Nanami’s blood pressure a bit. He was the youngest out of the three of them, yet he also somehow looked the oldest as well. Stress really does affect a person (and dealing with Gojo Satoru’s antics for years mightttt be a withering factor as well, though Kakashi cannot relate with that one). “You know how he is. He likes to spice things up now and then. He hates mundanity.” He stated, patting the box once with a gentle drum. “Speaking of which, better put this away before Satoru finds out about alcohol being in the vicinity. Knowing him, he might rope us all into a drinking game, except the drinks are non-alcoholic and all sugary loaded with enough sweetness to land us in the hospital.” Civilian hospital, and not Shoko, because Shoko will sooner snort and revel in their suffering before helping them first.

There was a surprisingly low grumble from Nanami, one that Kakashi perceived as a sign of agreement before he leaned in slightly, just enough that Kakashi could see the deep deep hazel of his irises, and said, “Even when the trip was for your own benefit…Thank you for the kind thought, Kakashi.”

The sudden drop of the pleasantry title and the use of his name rolling off in that deep timbre was nearly enough for Kakashi to drop his guard. Kakashi absolutely did not blush. He did not. Though he had to clear his throat a few times, feeling his heart suddenly picking up speed to maximum overdrive. “Right, well, I just thought…that because there has been a back-to-back onslaught of missions lately… you might like these to take some of the…stress off.” Kakashi swallowed back an embarrassed cough before he continued, “Though, for this one, unfortunately, I can’t join you.”

“A devastating loss indeed. Beer is always better when drinking with lovely company,” Nanami returned pleasantly.

Kami-sama, he actually wished for the days when they were still teenagers. Sure, back then, Nanami was a ball of angst and pessimism with a very short temper fuse (actually this aspect of him hadn’t change at all surprisingly), but at least he has yet to possess the certain kind of mature charisma and eloquence that his adult self has mastered. Kakashi knew the other was a former office worker, dealing front-faced with clients behind faux politeness and smiles, but shit, was he really that good at his job to be able to do this?

Certainly not to give away the utter ball of warmth unfurling in the pit of his stomach, Kakashi accused, poking a finger right into the other’s (very firm, very nice, very -- right, brain, you can stop now) chest, “You just want to see drunk me ramble, don’t you?”

Nanami had the audacity to smirk this time, just the briefest pull of his lips that was enough to be overlooked, but Kakashi has to hold back a groan when he felt that warmth starting to spread. So unfair. And judging from the pure smugness radiating from the other sorcerer, the man certainly knew what he was doing. Bastard. Poking fun at Kakashi and his…something.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The man said almost blatantly. “Though I do admit… you do say the most interesting things when you’re intoxicated.”

And wasn’t that worrying? Hopefully, none of the things he said when he was drunk was incriminating. Or betray the fact that he was actually a reincarnated Shinobi from a life from a long-forgotten era--

Perhaps noticing his sudden quietness and contemplation, Nanami sobered up, and straightened back into his usual stoicism.  “I should get going. The last train will be off soon, and I really do not want to bother Ijichi or any of the other Auxiliary Managers over something humdrum this late.”

That snapped Kakashi out of his reverie. “Not going to join us for dinner? I’m sure Yuuji would love to have your company as well.” The boy appears to be a people-person, a trait that he shared with Satoru. They can never be alone for too long before seeking out other’s company.

For a moment, as the man mulled the offer over, Kakashi thought he would accept. But Nanami shook his head, though he looked apologetic even as he said, “Maybe some other time.” Nanami gestured towards the box that he was still holding with a little shrug of his shoulders. Oh right.

“Speaking of which,” There was the familiar furrow of the man’s brows, and the clench of his jaw when he turned towards Kakashi again, “…Would you please talk to Itadori-kun? I’m afraid that he’s…still conflicted about the events that happened during the last mission.”

“Why me? Why not you? Besides, I’m not really good at comforting other people.” Kakashi asked with a curious tilt of his head, he’s not as emotionally equip as the other, after all. He’s trying to, but.

“I did try, although Itadori-kun insisted that he was fine, despite my numerous attempts. So, I’m hoping that he might open up more if it’s you… Also, quite the contrary, Kakashi, I think you’re really selling yourself short in that regard. Trust me on that. So…please?”

…At this point, Kakashi had no idea where Nanami’s faith in him comes from, but he’s too much of a coward to ask. And what does he mean by “if it’s you”?

…

Nanami was still watching him with this sort-of expectant expression that Kakashi could not quite disappoint, so he relented. Besides, if it’s for a student’s benefit…

“I’ll try,” Kakashi replied, with a tiny sigh.

“Thank you, that is more than enough for me. Have a great evening, Kakashi.” With a slight bow, Nanami. Just as he reached the door, he paused, and turned his head slightly to fling a rather…warm look at Kakashi. “Though, if you wish to continue this…talk, I’ll be here tomorrow morning to check up on Itadori-kun.”

His pulse skyrocketed, and the room felt annoyingly stuffy and warm again. Before Kakashi could even think to reply back with a response, the man was gone, the sound of his footsteps gradually disappearing until Kakashi could not decipher the man’s cursed signature anymore.

On the opposite side of the room, coming from another leading hallway, was the echoing noise of someone running. Satoru barged in, looking quite hectic.

“You’re back,” Kakashi stated in surprise, mentally slapping himself when his voice was a tiny bit higher than his usual tone.

Satoru looked around suspiciously, as if looking for something or someone, before casting his gaze upon his brother, an unusual serious frown on his face. “I felt a shift in the force that told me something was amiss, that someone was disturbing the balance. So, I rushed over.” He stared at Kakashi. “Where’s Nanamin anyway?”

“He already went back.” Though he has no idea what the absolute fuck Satoru was talking about, Kakashi tried not to squirm under Satoru’s continued scrutiny. When it became apparent that the other was not going to look away anytime soon, Kakashi gave out a loud chirp, his absolute best attempt to diverge despite the sheer mortification of him being able to produce such a sound, “By the way, where’s Yuuji-kun at? Didn’t you go fetch him?”

Satoru’s eyes narrowed even more at him, obviously not buying his distraction but he allowed, “Yuuji’s already back at the cabin, with his pile of leaves and all. So why were you taking so lo—“

“Right! Let’s go! Dinner to make! Poor boy must be starving!”

“Your face is red. Are you—“

“Sttttttttttttttarvingggggg!”

.

.

.

Satoru was absolutely convinced that Kakashi was coming down with a cold –which was admittedly, a much more desirable outcome, so he made Kakashi sit at the table with Yuuji, draped a blanket over him, before proudly declaring, “I’ll make dinner! Maybe some good and hearty hot pot to warm us all up?”

“It’s summer.”

“Hot pot it is!”

And so Kakashi and Yuuji were stuck helping Satoru make his democratically chosen dinner.

“How are you coming along with that?” Kakashi asked, a tad bit louder than he typically does because Satoru was making quite the ruckus in the kitchen, the clanging of pots and pans a symphony of metals and brass. Something banged heavily against the cabinets, and Kakashi could hear the little swore that his brother let out, barely resisting the urge to check up on his beloved kitchen. Not that he was actually worried about his kitchen burning down, Satoru actually does know how to cook despite all odds, it was just that he preferred eating Kakashi’s food rather than his own.

Definitely not trying to reassure himself, Kakashi thought, as something metal and heavy fell onto the floor, the thunderous sound being immediately followed by a jovial, “Sorry~”.

Despite the noises in the background, as Yuuji continued to roll the squash of the meatball batter into smaller, edible sizes while nodding his instructions along to Kakashi, the boy looked…happy. “I think I’m getting the hang of that leaf exercise! Managed to cut about a quarter through the last time without much effort…though Nanamin’s face when I asked him to bring me a whole pile of leaves was priceless!”

“Is that so?!” Satoru’s grin was full of mischievous intention as he turned around to lean over the counter that separated the cooking and the dining area. He blinked at the misshapen shape in Kakashi’s hands and gave him a smirk. Brat. Kakashi flicked a bit of meatball insides at the brat, only to have it stopped by Infinity. Double brat. “Yuuuuuujiiiiii, you should have taken a picture~ Anything to have more blackmail on Nanamin!"

Kakashi’s meatball does look a little squished, but it’s not something a little bit more practice won’t fix. He set it down along with Yuuji’s much more perfectly shaped ones. When Satoru went back to check on the soup base that they were using for the Hot Pot, Kakashi asked, hopefully not too suddenly, to an absent-minded Yuuji, “…Missing your classmates?”

Yuuji jolted at that, but he nodded nearly shyly. “I do. It’s been a while after all since I last saw them. You know…before my death.”

Kakashi gave the boy one of his smiles, one that he hoped was reassuring. “I’m sure they miss you as well…though it might be in a different…context.” He finished awkwardly, wanting to kick himself for his lack of societal sensitivity. Three lifetimes and he still couldn’t properly read the room properly.

He could hear Satoru’s amused snort from all the way here. Eavesdropping brat. As if he could do any better.

Yuuji didn’t appear to mind his blunder. If anything, the grin on his face grew bigger, as if amused by Kakashi’s rather endearing shortcoming, “Oh man! Can’t wait to see them again tomorrow! It’s been quite lonely by myself down in the bunker… Ah, no offense, Gojo-sensei! But my eyes are strained from being in the dark for so long…”

“…Are you okay, Yuuji-kun?” Very softly, the question that has actually been on the edge of Kakashi’s tongue ever since the conclusion of the last mission was thrown out. No doubt on Satoru’s as well, as Kakashi could see him cocking his head in interest, though he pretended to be busy stirring the ladle. Seems like Nanami was not the only one who was concerned.

The boy’s gaze was focused solely on the line of meatballs, which varied in shapes and sizes thanks to Kakashi. “Hmm? Oh, my injuries? They’ve already healed up actually. Ieiri-san informed me that my body is really tough, and I’d always bounced back anyhow.”

Kakashi tilted his head. “That’s…not what I’m referring to.” His eyes caught Yuuji’s, which fluttered around nervously. Ah, so the other was just playing oblivious to his initial inquiry. He did not call Yuuji out on it though, and instead returned his attention to the mash of meat on his palm, in case the other grew nervous of his observation.

“Ah, I’m fine, really!” Yuuji spoke, though his smile was a bit dimmed, his eyes looking everywhere but Kakashi. “…It’s just that…” He turned a head away a bit, casting a sideways glance into the living room, at the mess of luggage that Kakashi still hadn’t put away yet. It made the small living area appeared even more congested, but Satoru liked to call it ‘homey’ instead.

Yuuji continued, his voice mummed, “…I just remembered…the last time I had dinner with…with a family.”

…

Nanami was right; the boy was still beating himself over the last mission. Over things that he couldn’t control.

Of his grief with Yoshino Junpei’s death. And his mother, Yoshino Nagi, who died because of Sukuna’s finger. Not that he knew about the latter’s unfortunate circumstance, due to Nanami’s quick thinking. Yuuji would just blame himself even more.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Talking may help ease the hurt, even if it is just a bit.

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly be a bother—“

“You won’t,” Kakashi quickly said, a bit stern. He didn’t want Yuuji thinking that it was okay to suffer alone if it meant placating others, especially when it isn’t so true. To be strong alone is not necessarily the only way after all, nor was it the most correct one. “Honest. Please don’t think of yourself ever becoming a hassle to either me or Satoru.”

Yuuji was quiet for a moment, the only sound discernible was his slow, heavy breathing as he fidgeted in his seat. Kakashi gave the boy a moment to open up if he wanted to, his posture intentionally open and relaxed.

“Do…Will the pain…” A rattling breath. Yuuji clenched his fists into the knee of his pants, grasping the fabric tightly. His lips wobbled. He went silent again.

“…Have you…Have you gotten used to this pain…Kakashi-san?” Eventually, like the whisper of a dying wind, the words were spoken very softly, very delicately, that Kakashi might have missed them if not from his years of Shinobi training.

Very carefully as he thinks of his words, Kakashi began, his voice equally as low as Yuuji’s. Of how much truth needed to be told. “…Loss…Loss is inevitable. For humans especially. And for Jujutsu sorcerers…death particularly is an indistinguishable prospect with our line of work, whether it is to ours, or others. For both sorcerers, and non-sorcerers. It is not an easy job, nor is it…appreciated.”

An exhale.

“It’s okay if you don’t get used to it. If you never get used to it.” Kakashi smiled sympathetically at the other’s crestfallen expression. “I will not lie to you, Yuuji-kun. Even I…Even now, I still can’t get over some of the losses myself. No matter how many years had passed since then.”

“Still, remembering the dead…prioritising them over the living. That’s no way how to live, isn’t it?” Kakashi murmured, more to himself rather than to Yuuji, eyes growing more unfocused despite his continuous motion of smoothing and rolling.

And that’s what Hatake Kakashi has done for the entirety of his life, has he not? Mourning and dragging his regrets everywhere he went, trailing ghosts a constant spectre to his daily routines, days, years, decades. His humanity a façade, his smiles in favour of a long-ago rumination, unable to move on that what has been. Too afraid to make new connections, to be close lest he experiences heartache all over again, that he rather drowns alone in his own pent-up emotions, grasping for the edge that was just so out of reach. Dragged down by chains and anchors of his own volition until the light in the distance becomes merely a dimmed star, a faraway dream.

If you were to drag in Jujutsu context, you can even call it akin to being cursed.

The noises coming from the kitchen have stopped as well. Out from the corner of his eyes, Kakashi saw Satoru has stilled, no doubt caught up in his own reminiscences.

Of course, Kakashi knew he couldn’t protect Yuuji or any of the other students from everything, much like he couldn’t protect Satoru from a devastating loss. Life was funny and sadistic that way.

But he could certainly try. And that was more than enough.

“Then I—“

Kakashi shook his head. “To live on doesn’t necessarily mean to forget. To suffer through your pain alone doesn’t imply that you’re strong. Virtues such as righteousness and justice are fine to have, but do not let it consume you to the point it becomes a burden. It’s okay to rest and rely on others, because that’s why humans exist, don’t they? And you’re a human before you’re a Jujutsu sorcerer, Yuuji-kun, and I won’t think otherwise. Even if other people tell you otherwise.”

Itadori Yuuji is now an orphan, his sole guardian, his grandfather only recently passed away days before he had enrolled in Jujutsu High. His parents were long gone, and he was not from a family of Jujutsu sorcerers. He could not even see curses before he consumed Sukuna’s finger and does not have any inherent Jujutsu technique to be called his own. And yet, he was pulled into a heavy responsibility from the get-go, made into a vessel to contain the most powerful curse of all. He was dehumanised and was treated as such by the higher-ups. He was no longer a mere fifteen-year-old in their eyes, no. He was merely Sukuna’s vessel, a thing to be used and disposed of afterward. A way of thinking that made Satoru rebelled so hard in the first place.

It was very familiar to Kakashi. Even after eons, it seems…that the core of human nature never truly changed.

“What I mean to say is…” Kakashi looked down at his next attempt of a meatball, its shape still indefinable. He continued to knead, rolling the mush around as he gets more and more accustomed to the weight and texture. “You can come here anytime you want. When something’s bothering you. Even when nothing’s bothering you. I’ll be here. I’m not much of a conversationalist, but I’ve been told that I’m a very good listener.”

It took him multiple tries, but finally.

Kakashi’s meatball was perfectly roundish this time, and he let out a little satisfied smile to himself. He set it down with the others.

…The words that he didn’t have the courage to say to Naruto, who had to live alone throughout his childhood. The sentiments that he never shared with Sasuke, who knew the pain of familiar loss, and betrayal of his own. Though their circumstances were the same, Kakashi had let his own feelings be contained, watching primarily from the darkness of the ANBU. Back then, he was willing to let the village decide what’s best for them, even when he himself, had first-hand suffered through the more belligerent and bitter nature of his home.  

He allowed them now. Before the regrets of what could have been become haunts. Even if his regrets turned into exactly that. Because even if he couldn’t control the way he had died, when he will die, the least he could do, at this moment, was choose the way he will live. With others. To depend on others. Amongst his precious people, to try and live his life with the best of his abilities, even if the pain will probably never stop hurting, just as when more sorrow will undeniably come.

A lesson that took Kakashi more than a lifetime to learn, one that he only realised once he stopped being alone. Because he has Satoru.

He told Yuuji this much.

“And next time, we can have Megumi and…Kugisaki was it? I haven’t met her yet, but I’m sure she’s as eccentric as the rest of you rascals. Well, we can all have dinner here together. It might be a little cramped, but we’ll manage.”

“There’s always a place for you here.”

“…”

When he looked up, Yuuji was staring at him with wide eyes, mouth wobbling. His eyes were a little misty.

“D-Did I overstep?” Kakashi faltered, feeling the tips of his ears reddening. This is exactly the situation that he was afraid of, and he told Kento as much. He didn’t mean to force himself on Yuuji, and he really wasn’t a good talker, especially when it comes to expressing his sentiments. Maybe Yuuji had misunderstood and some of Kakashi’s words came off as overbearing and falsified instead. “I’m so—“

“Fushigoro knew you all along?” Yuuji huffed out an odd sound that’s quite not a sob, still teary-eyed even after he wiped his sleeve over his eyes. But his attempt to carry on with his cheerful demeanour was admirable. Truly, a ball of sunshine with an earnest heart, thinking others before him. “Man, he’s been holding out on me and Kugisaki! Horrible! Totally horrible! Gojo-sensei as well!”

Satoru gave out an affronted yell from the kitchen, and Kakashi could imagine him putting a hand on his chest in feigned hurt. “I am not!” He squawked over. “I just…never mention it, that’s all. After all, how does one bring the fact that they have an older brother to their own students?”

“Well, you could have brought it up during one of your very long tirades about yourself—“

Satoru quickly interposed with a whiny pout. “—And Megumi knows as well! Why am I getting all these baseless allegations alone? How did he explain to you and Nobara about those vests that his Divine Dogs wear then? Kakashi-nii knitted those for him!”

Thoroughly distracted at that, Yuuji turned excitingly in his seat to stare at Kakashi with glittering eyes. “Kakashi-san! You were the one who sewn those cute outfits for Fushiguro’s dogs?!”

“Of course, he did!” Satoru interjected cheerfully before Kakashi could say anything about how they were wolves, draping his full length right over the kitchen counter. He almost knocked over the spice rack doing that. “Did you really think Megumin-chan has the skills to even sew a button, much less make a whole proper doggie vest?”

“Ah! Now that you pointed that out, this makes more sense… Fushiguro couldn’t even cook rice properly the last time I checked…”

Somewhere else, a certain Shadow user felt his brow twitch, a sudden sense of irritation washing over him.

He felt like multiple idiots needed to be slapped.

-x-

Omake: Let’s Take a Walk!

-

There was never a dull day with Satoru around.

Especially now since the welp seems to take it upon himself to practically visit Kakashi at his secluded corner every day, most of the time showing up unannounced with loud outbursts of “Nii-nii!” and unexpected tackles to the back. While his eardrums and spine have significantly suffered as a result, Kakashi was…thankful that the initial frost of unfamiliarity that Satoru had was no longer there, though Kakashi was not quite sure what he has done to deserve some kindness from fate. Not that Kakashi was really complaining.

He didn’t think his already battered heart could handle it if his younger brother of this life harbours animosity and revulsion for him. Kakashi would rather take the overbearing affections any day rather than being treated again like those days after Sakumo had—

Something collided against his back, and Kakashi stifled a groan.

“Nii-nii!” Satoru’s rounded cheeks puffed up like a blowfish as he stared adoringly up at his brother, using his usual tactics of hugging Kakashi’s abdomen like a leech during one of his demands. Kakashi admits: the brat really does know how to take advantage of his cuteness. “Let’s take a walk!”

“Around the compound?” Kakashi asked, because he could tell Satoru was getting bored staring at the exact same walls for the past few days. At least the other has gotten past glaring at them as if they, the inanimate slabs of concrete were offending him somehow by merely existing.

“Hmhm!” Satoru nodded quite energetically, eyes bright and innocent despite his next words, “Don’t worry, if the clan members give you any trouble, I’ll dismember them!”

“No dismemberment or killing your family members, Satoru.” Kakashi responded flatly, trying to find his sandals. He remembered propping them against this particular pillar last night, unless his memory was starting to fail him. A sudden thought struck him, and he looked at Satoru in suspicion, and fair enough, after failing to break his brother’s gaze even after blinking owlishly for his innocence, Satoru grumbled in defeat. Right, nevermind, the little tyke seemed to have hidden them away as a little joke before the sudden mood for a walk struck him fancy.

Kakashi stared as Satoru climbed down from the roof, Kakashi’s sandals in hand, beaming nearly sheepishly at him the entire time.

Ah, Satoru. Whatever shall your brother do with you? Kakashi pulled at a chubby cheek in admonishment, laughing when Satoru stuck out his tongue at him.

“Alright, let’s g—Oof!” Whatever the rest of the sentence Kakashi was trying to say got knocked out from his lungs as Satoru, despite his smaller stature, grabbed his hand and immediately took Kakashi off with him, leaving behind a literal trail of dust.

A few days afterwards, Homura spotted Kakashi and the Young Master Satoru both idling outside, and out of curiosity, because the older sibling seemed to be busy fiddling something with his hands, decided to quickly excuse herself from her evening chatting session with Saiko. Knowing enough of the mischief that the two together can be up to (and Homura remembers the horrendous mess that were the incinerated table and the tableware, the stains took her forever to clean), she sent a prayer to whatever deity that was currently watching over them for strength.

Homura said, “Kakashi-sama, Satoru-sama, what are you doing— “As she quickly took in the scene, her eyes widened incredulously, and she momentarily forgot her manners as a servant of the esteem Gojo clan. “Is that a harness?!” She spluttered, a tone of indignation lacing her high-pitched shriek, “Are you tying a dog harness around Satoru-sama?!”

“It’s a leash actually,” Kakashi replied, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tried to adjust the neon pink fasteners to a more appropriate length, “Because this little tofu-cheeks ran off the last time and complained about me not being able to keep up. So, this is,” He fastened the last line on said child, who was too busy enjoying a very humongous piece of cookie to give the harness any thought, “Just my way of keeping up.”

Kakashi-sama puffed up his chest, as in with pride and awe at his genius solution.

Before Homura could say anything about Satoru-sama not being remotely close to a canine (despite his proficiency with his puppy dog eyes), the little tyke audibly swallowed his last bite of the cookie that was big enough to make any lesser human choke.

“Let’s go!” Satoru cheered, having finished off his wonderful little distraction. Bits of crumb was still stuck to his lips, so Kakashi, after making sure the leash was just snuffed enough to not be uncomfortable, reached over and swipe over the mess with the helm of his sleeve. Homura didn’t even have it in her to scold Kakashi for it (ahh laundry day will be so much fun) because the older sibling has done it so gently and lovingly.

Homura felt astonished at the fuzzy feeling she felt at the sight. Was she feeling…glad?

Because Kakashi-sama has never looked more alive than he is being right now, with his eyes twinkling and soft. More alive than he has been for the past ten years that Homura has been taking care of him.

Then Homura remembers that Kakashi-sama has also just tied a dog leash around his younger brother, the wielder of the feared Six Eyes, and the warm feeling in the pit of her chest turned to exasperation at the situation. She didn’t think the other clan members would take it too kindly with Satoru-sama being treated as if he was a pet (which was ironic if the way Satoru-sama was being clinically raised and paraded around would highly suggest otherwise).

“Alright, let’s g—“

Homura could merely watch in stunned silence, mouth agape as the older sibling got immediately dragged away by Satoru in reminiscence of being pulled by an equivalent of ten large dogs, the other not remotely slowed down by Kakashi’s weight. Miraculously still holding onto his end of the leash, Kakashi gave a tiny little wave to his caretaker, looking every bit like a piece of paper being wrangled by the wind just before they rounded the corner.

“We’ll be back before dinner,” He called over the delightful shrieks of Satoru-sama, who sounded he was having the time of his life dragging Kakashi like a kite. The other narrowly avoided being slammed into a wall but got dragged through a bush instead. Kakashi-sama came flying out of it looking like a tousled porcupine, twigs sticking out from his hair.

Homura massaged her temples, dutifully reminding herself that her pay is still very good to be put up with all of this.

…And the fact that Satoru-sama has not glare at her yet even once this week with those eyes, a particularly nasty trait that he likes to do with almost everyone he deemed to be beneath him, something tells her…that maybe. Just maybe.

Maybe the two will be good to each other.

RUMMMMBLEEEEEEE—

A reverberating rumble as concrete slabs came crashing down from somewhere in the distance.

…Though that did not necessarily mean that they would be good for Homura’s sanity though.

-x-

Omake 2: The Divine Dogs are Not Pets! (But Are They Ninken Though?)

-

The Ten Shadows technique, much like the Limitless, is an inherited technique passed down through generations of sorcerers and is a highly acclaimed bloodline of the Ze’nin clan. Possessing unlimited potential and capacity, the user will be able to manipulate the shadows and use them as an intermediary, enabling them to summon forth different forms of Shikigami to aid and support them in battles. When someone inherits the technique, they will first receive two Divine Dogs that proved their lineage, a sign of being accepted by the Shadows.

So, when a six-year-old Fushiguro Megumi’s shadow had gurgled and regurgitated within itself as if it was alive, the silver-haired weirdo who has been harassing Megumi for the past few weeks cocked his head in interest at the strangle, wriggling mess of inky black, his bright cerulean eyes gleaming like prized, dangerous jewels even behind the sunglasses he was wearing.

“Oh hey~~” The weirdo, whose name was apparently Gojo Satoru, turned and gave Megumi this wide, eerie grin that was too many teeth and too little shame. He waggled his very very long fingers right in front of Megumi’s face, almost poking his right eye out. “It seems that your technique has finally manifested itself! Congratulations! You’re one step closer to not being maul by a stray curse!”

Even the man’s compliments sounded ingenuine, much like the rest of the exuberant façade the man like to adorn. But even little Megumi could not deny the shred of silly curiosity and excitement that dwelled in his chest at the prospect of the technique that his old man has apparently sold him off for big bucks.

And so, trying hard to ignore Gojo-san’s jabs, Megumi grunted, before shifting his attention back to the shadows that called out to him. In response, he sent back little waves of cursed energy –at least the man was useful enough to teach Megumi the basics, regardless of his rather…crude mentorship style, coaxing the shadows to come to his side. It gurgled, and Megumi let out a tiny smile.

“Baby’s little steps~” The man crooned, and Megumi felt his eye twitch, despite his attempt to reign in his irritation.

“Do you have to be here?” Megumi asked with a diminutive click of his tongue –a rude gesture, one that will surely earn Megumi a scolding from his stepsister if she was to find out, before turning his gaze to the other silver-haired weirdo, who was so drastically quiet and sluggish as compared to the one who was wearing pitch-black sunglasses indoors. Which was fine, really, because if all Jujutsu sorcerers are as bizarre and irksome as Gojo-san, Megumi doesn’t think he could make it past twelve years old before dying of high blood pressure.

Tearing his stare away from the gurgling blob of black, the other silver-haired man in question blinked owlishly at Megumi, even as he was crouching on the ground, head propped up by an arm.  He seemed uncaring of the dirt that will sully his expensive-looking yukata, preferring instead to watch Megumi’s technique manifesting itself.

“Oh, it’s fine.” Gojo-san responded instead, waving a hand dismissively. “I don’t really have to, but rather, I want to, ya know? Besides, what kind of a future sensei am I if I can’t be there for my wee baby student?” He then turned and gave Megumi one of his annoying smirks again. “Or perhaps it’s because little Megumin-chan has the stage fright when he has an audience~? It’s alright, it’s alright, I heard one of the well-known remedies for that is to imagine the audience in their underwear! Mine’s pink by the way, with strawberries on them.”

Megumi was about to respond with a very colourful and crude comment when suddenly his shadow surged forward, dramatically increasing in length and height. It shifted into canid-shaped masses, and with a burst of cursed energy, pair of wolves howled into reality, one Black and the other White, both have three dots on their forehead of the opposite colour. Their gazes fell upon their young master, and before Megumi could even think to feel intimidated by their yellow sclera and flash of sharp teeth, he found himself being buried beneath two massive balls of fur, their happy yips and barks covering the sounds of his protests.

“Oh, this is going to be hilarious~” Gojo-san guffawed somewhere between. “I’m going to go get some popcorn so that I can fully savour this moment where Megumin-chan get slobbered over by two canid Shikigami~”

The man then teleported away, which was admittedly impressive.

The other white-haired man, whose hair was actually slightly darker than that of the weirdo’s, blinked at Megumi, and attempted a smile before he cringed awkwardly. He doesn’t seem to know what to say especially when it’s just the two of them alone.

Megumi can relate.

So, he focused his attention instead to his newly acquired Shikigami, one of which shoved its very cold and wet snout against Megumi’s cheek. He repressed a shudder. Despite being made entirely out of shadows and cursed energy, they were surprisingly very animated and alive, behaving almost similarly to dogs. As Megumi carefully stroked the White one’s fur, mindful of its display of teeth, the Black one tilted its head as it sat on its haunches, staring unblinkingly at the presently only adult in the room.

Megumi sneaked a glance.

Even when the man’s face was covered by a medical mask, the expression of pure longing and melancholy was very apparent on the other’s face, his hooded eyes conveying those emotions very openly. He didn’t move, however, apparently content with just watching, even when his interest was obvious.

Which was why Megumi’s own offer surprises even him.

“…Do you want to pet them?”

The blink that came afterward was slow and languish. Megumi almost wanted to retreat the admittedly hasty offer when the man shifted.

“…Can I?”

Megumi nodded, and the man stood up, shuffled slowly over to him and the panting twin wolves, which trotted playfully around the man, nosing their cold snouts into the creases of his clothes. The man chuckled at their antics; the sound akin to the windchimes that Tsukimi likes to hang sometimes. His expression –or what portion of his face that Megumi could see anyway—was calm and fond as he scratched behind the Black wolf’s ear and patted the other gently under its chin. The White one whined in appreciation, before turning back to nuzzle Megumi’s side.

They spent the next several moments in quiet, contemplative silence, with Megumi content to keep the peace. It was going to be gone as soon as Gojo-san comes back anyway. The silver-haired man proved to be quiet company as well.

Thus, he certainly didn’t expect the man to suddenly start crying.

There were no warning signs of any kind. Megumi was initially just too focused on running his hands over the two Shikigami as well, which despite being summoned from the shadows have very soft fur. It was when he heard the slightly sharp, rattling intake of breath that he looked over, and was shocked, to say the least, when he saw that the man was weeping. Perhaps the most disconcerting factor was that the man produced no sound as he did so, his face slack even as droplets of tears streamed down to be soaked into his mask. The Shikigami whined as they circled around the two, picking up the air of sorrow.

The sound appeared to bring the man back to reality, and with it his realisation. “A-ah,” He brought up a hand to his face in shock, his brows furrowed, “Sorry I didn’t know what came over me—“ He tried to brush away his tears, but they kept flowing.

Being six and already having the same social capability as that of a sea urchin, Megumi hesitated between freezing up on the spot and asking what the matter was. Perhaps one of the Divine Dogs have accidentally bitten him or something--

And of course, that was the time when Gojo-san decided to come back, his arms full of a colourful assortment of snacks that was not just the popcorn that he wanted to go grab earlier.

“Right, so we’re all out of caramel-flavoured, so I had to rummage through and found the white chocolate ones, but this brand tastes awfu—NII-SAN?! NII-SAN, why are you crying?!” He practically dropped everything in his arms into one big pile of clutter on the ground, before hurrying over.

“MEGUMIN-CHAN,” Gojo-san hollered the accursed nickname like a caterwauling cat, “Megumin-chan, I didn’t expect you to be such a delinquent this young of an age, bullying my brother like this!”

“What the heck do you take me for?!” Megumi asked back, very offended, because yeah, maybe he was not as nice of a person like Tsumiki was, but he doesn’t look that much of a juvenile in the making, does he? Certainly not as bad as to make an adult to start crying of all things.

“It’s fine, Satoru,” The man, no, Kakashi-san, told the still fretting weirdo quietly, that unfocused glaze still hooding his eyes even as he continued to pet Megumi’s wolves with fond affections, the motions being met with less enthusiastic whines and shoves, because apparently, they were wary of Gojo-san, their ears flicking with uncertainly, “I just remembered something, that’s all.”

Gojo-san looked doubtful, his lips pulled in obvious discontentment, but he didn’t say anything more. He didn’t even continue his torment of Megumi, his otherworldly eyes wordlessly studying the pair of Shikigami that were now huddling close to their master, their demeanour now rigid and vigilant perhaps in response to Gojo-san’s immense presence.

Megumi didn’t know why Kakashi-san was upset in the first place, and he felt that it was not his place to ask. But curiosity made him ponder, that between Gojo-san’s mournful stare –which he found was surprising, he thought the man didn’t have any other emotions other than being a total and complete ass— and Kakashi-san’s own admission, Megumi reasoned that he had remembered something of the distant past, something dear that he had lost. Did the man perhaps have dogs of his own at some point? Kakashi-san’s familiarity with canines was apparent in the way he interacted with the wolves. Megumi’s Shikigami was not exactly dogs, but they behaved closely enough.

Possibly, the man got overwhelmed by his remembrances. Whether they were pleasant or not, Megumi does not know.

…

Unknowingly, once more, the words left his lips before his mind caught up with him.

“…pet them…”

Kakashi-san’s red-rimmed eyes slid towards Megumi in a questioning prompt. “…Pardon?”

Nii-san. Older brother. Elder sibling.

Megumi remembers his first encounter with Gojo-san, the man suddenly appearing in front of his and Tsumiki’s doorstep with his tall, shady uniform-bearing stature looming over Megumi like a shadow of death. The orange hue of the setting sun illuminated the halo of his hair, which was an unbearable illustrious white that reflected the light directly into Megumi’s retinas. But it was the deep, cerulean pair of irises that gleamed and exhibited the very Heavens that made Megumi pulled up his guard, despite the open, and overtly friendly gestures the man was exhibiting.

“Will Tsumiki be happy with the Ze’nin clan?” Was Megumi’s first question when Gojo Satoru has finished explaining the reason for his appearance and importance to Megumi’s future. Something about Jujutsu and his highly prized and sought-after technique. He has asked what Megumi wanted to do.

The man paused, contemplating the inquiry with a tilt of his head. Then, he beamed, eclectic and maniacal, a hint of malice ghosting his lips as he stated with absolute, “No. There’s absolutely no way.”

“I guarantee that.”

Megumi has bitten back a growl at that definitive statement, eyes blazing with defiance, but more or less he has glowered silently at the man, whose demeanour has slightly changed. Megumi was young, yes, but he was observant –he has to be, Tsukimi was just too kind and trusting even with strangers, and with their mother and father gone to god-knows-where, it was just the two of them to take care of each other. And so, he has caught the familiar tinge of protectiveness that adorn the hunch of the other’s shoulders, the steeliness that lined his eyes. Plus, the way the man has sounded so reassured that Megumi’s sister will suffer if he were to go to the Ze’nin clan…

Gunmetal eyes slid over to a slouched, tired form, observing the paleness of someone who has clearly never been out in the sun that much. At the thinness and apparent fragility of the wrists that peeked out from the helm of the navy-blue fabric. At the way Gojo-san hovered and fretted over him, worry evident in his demeanour, even as he tried to hide it behind his usual smiles.

It was apparent that Kakashi-san’s life was not a happy one.

…

Just the tiniest bit. Megumi’s respect for Gojo-san went up just the tiniest so. At the fact that both felt the need to protect their respective (stupid) older siblings.

(And maybe, it might have humanised Gojo-san a bit in Megumi’s eyes)

Not that the other needed to know that. His ego doesn’t need the extra inflation.

“You can pet them anytime you want.” Megumi repeated, with more confidence this time, which wasn’t much to be honest. He still felt the slightest of flush creeping up his neck, being so out of his element. He typically does not engage in this kind of emotional stuff, mostly keeping to himself, but he felt that the man needed it. He doesn’t think Kakashi-san is a bad person; the man is quiet, and he likes to give Megumi fruity snacks during his training sessions. Plus, he’d heard the saying that animals, especially dogs, can sense when someone is a bad or good person. The twin wolves seemed to like him enough, even if they weren’t exactly real animals. Still, that was enough of an indication for Megumi to extend his offer. Besides him, the wolves huffed and chuffed, as if in agreement with his thoughts.

“I-if it makes you…not sad.” To cope with his loss. He trailed off, feeling his blush intensify. Even more so when Gojo-san sent this thrilled look his way after blinking away his initial surprise, and Megumi knows that the man would undoubtedly tease him over for this for days to come.

Kakashi-san stared at him a bit more, before his eyes, which held the same colour as the rainclouds, closed and crinkled into a makeshift smile. He reached over at ruffled Megumi’s hair, and…Megumi admits, it felt rather nice. “I see. Thank you Megumi-kun.”

.

.

.

.

“Divine Dog!”

With a majestic howl that was brought forth from his shadow, the White Divine Dog manifested at the beckon of its master’s call. As the 1^st Years stood directly at the entrance of the Detention Centre Building 2, Megumi turned to his two classmates.

“If the curse gets close, it’ll tell us.”

Nobara and Yuuji cheered---

---then stared.

“…What.” Megumi asked glumly, feeling the incredulous stares of both of his classmates passing back and forth from the panting Shikigami and him.

“A-Ah, no, it’s just that…” Yuuji rubbed the back of his head.

With a pleased huff, the White Divine Dog sat on its heel, tilting its head to the side. For a ferocious Shikigami, it was surprisingly very cute.

Very adorable, especially with the blue vest that it was wearing. It looked handmade, the craftmanship seamless, puffing up the canine’s fluffy fur even more around its neck. At the back of the vest, there was a very simplified seal that depicted an illustration of a sea urchin.  Or what could have been a sea urchin; there were actually inky strokes of ten, with different lengths and breadth pointing outwards in a perfect circle. Perhaps the ten strokes signified the Ten Shadows technique instead.

Sea urchin suits better though.

“IT’S VERY CUTE!” Yuuji gushed loudly and dived straight forward so that he could commit a very vigorous petting session.

“So, this guy also has this kind of hobby.” Nobara sent a wide, teasing smirk Megumi’s way, shoving her very sharp and pointy elbow straight into Megumi’s ribs, “Fushiguroooo~ I didn’t think you would be so soft beneath all this glum spikiness.”

“Who’s a handsome boy?!” Yuuji gushed loudly, fluffing the white Divine Dog’s cheeks as he buried his face straight into the fluffiness of white. Soft like clouds, it was. “Who’s a handsome boy?! You are!”

The Shikigami barked in agreement, wagging its tail with pride.

Megumi sighed, unwilling to elaborate.

-x-

Omake 3: Don’t You Just Hate It When Your Siblings Go Through Your Stuff

-

“And here, is my humble dorm room!”

Kakashi stared pointedly at the absurdly catastrophic mess in said humble dorm room, at the pile of candy wrappers littering the study table, at how not even a section of the floor was visible to see before turning to a smiling Satoru with an unimpressed look.

“What?” Satoru blinked innocently.

Kakashi cocked an eyebrow.

Five minutes later, a grumbling Satoru was seen walking down the corridor of the 2nd-floor male dormitory, a large trash bag clenched in one hand while the other was twirling a broom he has just gotten from the custodian closet.

Rude, Kakashi-nii, making Satoru clean his cherished mess on his very first visit. See if Satoru would invite him back the next time.

Satoru purposedly stomped harder the closer he got to his room, if only to vent a bit. He glanced at the door right next to his with a dour look; he sensed Suguru’s cursed energy signature, meaning that Suguru was back from his mission, but he has not seen a shadow of the bastard at all. Not even at the cafeteria, even if Satoru hated the damn place.

…

Ah well, Satoru would just knock incessantly long later, and leave a pile of his favourite snacks in front of Suguru’s door. If was just Satoru’s way of showing…concern.

And if he was truly being honest with himself, Satoru was just very worried. Shoko has mentioned that Suguru was getting quite thin to the point of being underweight.

Maybe if he cleans his room fast enough, he can ask Kakashi to whip up a meal in the dormitory kitchen before his next appointment with Shoko. Something light but fulfilling that he barged into Suguru’s room and force the other to eat. He trusts in Kakashi’s cooking ability to deliver what he asks for.

With a lighter spring in his steps, Satoru entered his room.

“Alright, I’m back.” He said with a wide grin, eager to start his plan--

And froze.

Kakashi-nii was sitting on the edge of his bed.

And in his hands—

Gojo Satoru, wielder of the Six Eyes, Inheritor of ‘Limitless’ technique, The Strongest sorcerer of his generation, let out a horrified yelp. The broom in his grasp clattered to the floor.

“My, my, otōto,” Kakashi-nii’s voice was a low timbre with a whistle of admiration as he flipped through several pages, “I didn’t know you have such…tastes.”

What. When. How?!

How the fuck did Kakashi-nii found those? Satoru knew that he had hidden them well enough to even get past dorm inspections, so how--

Wait.

His beloved, innocent Kakashi-nii was holding up his stack of porn.

Satoru screamed, the loudest one in his entire life.

He…he, himself, has soiled his beloved brother’s innocence!

Who knew that the real danger was he, himself, all along?!

He might have used some of his cursed energy for this, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Satoru yanked the mountainous pile of magazines from his brother, even the one in his hands, in a burst of speed and then--

WHAM!

Satoru threw himself through the wall.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, the wall remained standing even after getting rammed by Satoru’s full weight. Maybe the school had learned from past students’ rowdy activities that had easily destroyed the building’s infrastructure and thus, had reinforced the concrete of the walls with something tougher than…concrete.  

In any case, once Satoru peeled his face off the raunchy wallpaper, still holding onto his cargo like a lifeline, his eyes met that of Kakashi-nii’s, who merely raised an eyebrow in surprise.

So, Satoru did the next best thing.

He threw himself through the door instead before Kakashi-nii could get a word in.

Satoru landed gobsmacked in the middle of the corridor, unable to accept that this is reality.

In his immerse grief, Satoru heard another door being slammed open. “Satoru, Satoru! Why are you yelling like you just got castrated— “Suguru stared at the lump of flesh, the Strongest sorcerer of their generation, curling and whimpering on the floor. He then noticed the multitude of porn magazines that have been strewn all over the corridor, and gawked back at the other with wide, perplexed eyes. “Satoru, what the fu— “

“S-Suguru….” Perhaps later when he was not delirious with grief, Satoru may feel ashamed of how whiny and pathetic he sounds to his one and only best friend, especially since he had not seen the other in weeks –the damn bastard has been avoiding hanging out with him, always saying something about being tired—but then he remembered precisely why he had sounded so wrecked in the first place and wailed, grief wracking his frame. “N-Nii-san, he—“ He hiccupped.  

“What’s wrong with your brother?” Suguru was, of course, naturally alarmed from the state that Satoru was in, thinking the worst-case scenario. Who wouldn’t though, when you were just chilling in your room, tyring to nurse off a headache when a shrill shriek resounded so vociferously you would think someone was getting murdered? Suguru wouldn’t be surprised if everyone on campus had heard him. If this was Satoru’s way of getting Suguru’s attention, well, it worked.

Before Suguru could even think of doing something drastic, like calling for Shoko and Yaga-sensei –perhaps Satoru’s brother has suffered a relapse, he knew how physically weak the man is, when said person poked his head through the open door of Satoru’s room with a curious tilt. He appeared to be carrying something hefty.

“Oh hello, Suguru-kun,” Kakashi gave a little wave with whatever space he has left on his hand. “Please don’t mind me, I need to talk to Satoru about some…things.”

Suguru’s eyes trailed down onto the stack of books that the other was holding, no, not books, rather magazines, ones that have glossy, plastic covers of half-naked buxom--

Oh.

Oh.

“Now where was I? Oh yes. Now, while I admire your…exquisite kinks— “And Satoru squalled louder at that, because how could his beloved innocent brother knew of such a derogatory word in his vocabulary, it was simply unacceptable, this world is a lie, “—and young lads like yourself are curious about the…finer side of life but unfortunately, you’re still a bit too young for this kind of stuff.”

He flipped through the stacks of magazines in his arms. And as if the universe has not yet had its fill of Gojo Satoru’s suffering, Kakashi-nii began to read off the titles.

One. By. One.

“The Devilish Ways of Strawberries and Cream.” Satoru twitched.

“Literal Food Porn”. Twitch.

“The Hunter and His Naked Prey.” Twitch.

“The Lusty Argonian Ma—“Kakashi stared.

He flipped open to a page.

After a moment of reading, he promptly slammed the book shut.

“Spicy.” Kakashi coughed, his face crimson red.

Satoru yowled.

The exhale that came out of Suguru was so sharp it sounded like he just got punched in the gut.

“Right, well,” With an embarrassed huff, Kakashi shoved the remaining stack of…lascivious magazines into Suguru’s arms, who looked deceptively unaffected by the situation, if not for the quivering of his lips that greatly betray his amusement. The reddening of his face might have also been a dead giveaway, as well as the trembles that wrecked his frame. “I trust Suguru-kun to take care of this…this matter of extremely great importance, won’t you, Suguru-kun? No one should know that the Head of the Gojo clan is into…kinky leopard cosplays and…inappropriate use of food.”

“R-Right.” Suguru croaked, and he vibrated on the spot from the pure effort of holding in his laughter. His eyes watered.

Satoru whimpered, curling tighter into a ball.

Kakashi promptly turned on his heels and went back into Satoru’s dorm, closing the door with a soft click.

On cue, Suguru let out the mightiest of wheeze, his reddened face scrunched into an expression that one would normally associate with when biting into a lemon. He slowly kneeled over onto the floor, gasping like a fish out of the water as he tried to laugh through each gulp of air, each sound sounding like a chortling air pump. It sounded like he was trying to say something, but all Satoru could make out was a bastardised giggle of his name before Suguru collapsed to lay on his side, purely overwhelmed. Bastard. Didn’t even try to console Satoru. Satoru sulked even more when the stack of magazine that was entrusted to his dear One and Only tipped over from his grasp, adding more to the mess of voluptuous sanctity on the floor.

“What the hell is going on- “Nanami, who has just come up the stairways to check upon his troublesome upperclassmen, saw both curling up on the ground like a pair of withered shrimps while being surrounded by a multitude of explicit R18 lewd magazines covers, promptly spun on his heels, and backtracked down the stairs.

Nope, not dealing with whatever the fuck’s going on there, Nanami thought, pulling Haibara along with him when the other too tried to check on the noises.

-x-

Author's Notes:

(1) Sapporo (札幌市, Sapporo-shi) is the largest city in Japan lying north of Tokyo, and the largest city on Hokkaido, the northernmost main island of the country. It's almost always cold there because, in winter, Siberian currents prevail, which pick up moisture when passing over the Sea of Japan, so the temperature is almost permanently below freezing (0 °C or 32 °F), and it snows about every day or so (during the mildest days, more frequent in the first half of December or in March, it can also rain).

(2) Susukino (すすきの) is a red-light district in Chūō-ku, Sapporo, Hokkaidō, Japan. It is one of the major red-light districts in Japan (Yes, Satoru was constantly vigilant for Kakashi during their entire time there). 

(3) Jingisukan is a Japanese grilled mutton dish prepared on a convex metal skillet or other grills. The dish is particularly popular on the northern island of Hokkaidō and in China.

(4) Sapporo is well-known for its beer. One of their famous specialties is dry beer. In dry beer, the fermentation process is extended to allow for more natural sugars to break down and convert to alcohol. Varieties that are termed “super dry” use even longer fermentation, resulting in a beer that is full in strength but has fewer carbs. These beers generally have an intense, bitter taste. 

(5) Sanporoku is a famous Japanese treat, a Baumkuchen cake made to look like a Japanese white birch tree. This cake is made of flour, butter, sugar, and eggs, all produced in Hokkaido. Having won the highest-ranked Gold Medal of the Monde Selection (an international and independent quality institute which evaluates consumer products to indicate the level of quality to them) contest, its taste is also guaranteed to please!

(6) In the databook, Nanami Kento is considered the second heaviest drinker out of all the characters, behind Ieiri Shoko. He's also a foodie. (Surprisingly, I wrote Kakashi gifting Nanami the beers before I found out this particular information.) 

--

Kakashi: (is having le confusion over...the feelings)

Nanami: I-

Satoru: (barges in through the door wielding a bat) SOMEONE NEEDS THE HORNI BOINK AND IT'S NOT ME!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! There's so many things I want to talk about, so many things to gush!

First of all: I feel sorry over Suguru, but at this point, I feel like he's far too gone for anyone to save him. But to make up for this misfortune in this fic, I currently have another crack JJK x Naruto fic already half-finished, where a 3rd Year student Satoru proceeded to dimension-kidnap-slash-adopt a five year old Kakashi and convinced his boyfriend Suguru to stay and they proceeded to have a very big and happy family together later on. It's a one-shot and I can't wait to share that one with you all~ (Also with another fic of Gojo smexing with a cursed spirit Tsukumogami Kakashi shhhhhhh my guilty pleasure) 

Also Yuuji deserves the best, and so do practically every kid in the Jujutsu world. Kakashi's unintentionally adopting all of them via extension of The Tangerine. He still sucks at expressing his emotions but he's trying his best. Also, while people may think Kakashi's being out of character when he's offering support, I don't think it's too far off his character, especially since he was exceptionally kind towards Itachi during their time in the ANBU, constantly telling the other that he's there to listen and help out if Itachi was having any problems. And he asked Itachi if he was alright after Shisui's death. 

And, admittedly, Nanami is really hard for me to write because I did not want to make him too much out of character, but really, all that I know of him was being comedically serious and stoic all the time, while actually hiding a compassionate heart because work is shit; jujutsu sorcerers work is even shittier. But then I watched the JJK Drama CD on Youtube where the man basically gushes over bread for 7 minutes straight and BWAHAHAHA, THE MAN's A DORK! He's also only so serious during work hours, so I can get away with him being softer after he gets off work lmao~ ALSO, SIMP FOR HIS VA, Tsuda Kenjirō~ Here's the link for that video btw, youre welcome.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZ3b2o0Wzx0&list=LL&index=7&t=156s

(looks down at list) Now what next, ah yes! (ahem) 

BIG BARA TIDDY GOJO, OH MY GOD. I woke up one day and was so confused to find my Twitter timeline full of fanarts of big bara Gojo, and was like, what, where, when? Then I found out that Akutami-sensei had included extra arts in one of the manga volumes and lo and behold: Gojo wearing a tight, black shirt with dem muscles flexing lmao--

AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON TSUKUMOGAMI KAKASHI. So perfect, so pretty, everything about him is so perfect, I love Kakashi even more, finally, finally, they give him a really great design and it's so gooddddddd! And the flowers on his kimono! They're Obito's birthday flowers wkwkwkwk this dumb idiot. 

Oh! And they'd release a special line of Jujutsu Tamagotchi! Where you can raise the characters like you'd do with a regular one! I've already preordered mine, though I'd never had a Tamagotchi before. Though I can already imagine accidentally killing Gojo because I forgot to feed him or something lmaoooooo

Chapter Text

Birthday Special: Seasons Change, and We're Still Here, Surrounded by Flowers

🌻 (Sunflower – Loyalty, Longevity, Adoration, Enlightenment)

When Gojo Satoru was born, his existence alone has affected the balance of the world. The Gojo clan, which have been lagging in Jujutsu-related political power behind the other two prominent families for the last few decades, had immediately risen back to the top with the birth of the no doubt future-heir. 

The combination of the estranged Limitless technique of the Gojo clan, and the inherited Six Eyes were enough to put the heir, hailed as Gojo Satoru, as the highest bounty at the time before he could even walk, and all talk regarding the young boy see-sawed between reverence and fear. 

Ah, eyes, eyes. The magnificence of the Heavens, reflecting in the crystalline blue, walking amongst mortals, blessed by the unseen. Snowy hair, streaks of white, a sign of favoured beauty, but viewed as a demon. And yet, welcomed by neither. 

As with all things powerful, the mundane tries to keep him -- his Six Eyes, his Infinity, his everything, on a collar, on a tight leash. To keep the monster that just happened to be wrapped in human skin in chains since young, wanting to instill cooperation in the tool they seek to cultivate later. They expected complete obedience. 

Like hell. 

He did follow them in the beginning, wordlessly following each stoic instructions to a T, before ultimately, he got tired. Expectant gaze, looking for praises, eventually turning dull and emotionless. Because, no matter how obedient he was, the eyes, the lingering glares, the vehement whispers, those goddamn stares from the weaklings, never let up, never ceased. 

Even his own mother seldom looks him straight in the eyes, as few as their encounters were. A pawn, she was. A chess piece, was he. 

He refused.

Acceptance was a faraway dream. And Gojo Satoru does not have time for dreams, only reality. He was destined for greater things, intended to be at the top of the food chain, even if the common folks fear him for it, the unequal parting before him. The seat at the top was his and his alone. 

Even if he was lonely. 

He started acting out. Began talking back. His caretakers, though they were clearly afraid of him, tried to reign him in, especially when he acted during meetings with one of the Three Sorcerers clan, though it fell on deaf ears. But it was attention, nonetheless, given to him. Or else, the servants parted before him, heads bowed low and hands trembling, but Satoru paid them no heed, his eyes preferring to look straight ahead, never up, never down. 

His own path. Satoru can see it clearly. No interchangeable branches nor intersecting roads. A cut above the rest. 

Ah. 

Ah. 

He sees the end of the road. 

A sole being. Alone Alone Alone Alone Alone Alone--

The abyss of nothing but pure cursed energy shrieked at him. It truly does hurt his eyes sometimes, staring at it head-on. It looked constrained, like a tangle of yarn. Satoru moved closer, curious. Reality wobbled and churned, merely a construct before him. It seemed to babble incoherently, as if warning him. Satoru did not listen. Satoru moved closer, and grasped an end of the yarn that fabricated fate itself.

Like makeshift glass, it breaks into a thousand non-existing pieces. 

Satoru blinked. 

Too far deep in his own thoughts that he has wandered in the opposite direction of where his bedchamber was located. Though it was the eve of his own day of birth, the event was merely a formality, a show of power and a ceremony that aimed more towards parading Satoru around like a trophy rather than a genuine celebration. 

Even amongst the crowd, Satoru felt lonely. Fed up with the charade of politeness and formality, even when it was evident that not one of them wanted to have anything to do with him, Satoru snuck away, a feat that was scoffingly easy despite his caretakers being fed good money to keep an eye on the future heir. 

Weaklings. Satoru scoffed, kicking away a pebble and wishing he could change from his too many layers of ceremonial kimono. 

Not that Satoru actually needed the help. His technique could easily crumple a person like a tin can with merely a glance. He was getting better at that by the way, not accidentally killing a person with a flick of his eyes. 

Speaking of eyes...Satoru rubbed at them with the back of his hand, wishing that he would stop seeing the visible borders that made up reality already. They’ve been bothering him all night, lightening up like annoying neon signs, flicking at his nerves with buzzing intensity. Usually they merely flicker like hazy mirages at the edge of his vision, but tonight…

Hectically, they bulged in a more visible gradient, sticking out more in a colourless, translucent matter. If they were more alive and organic, Satoru would describe them as being excited and animated or something of the sorts. How odd. An anomaly that Satoru would gladly explore when his mood was better. 

But still annoying. Hence why he has destroyed one earlier. Yet now the broken pieces hovered before him in timeless suspension, glowing crimson, cut strings of fate mocking him with their silent teether. Before Satoru could even contemplate firing off a blast of cursed energy at them, they flew off in disarray, glowing like fireflies. 

If Satoru were to explain this phenomena to anyone, they would shrug it off as merely a child's imagination, though with his status, Satoru reckon they will just bow their heads in silence, too scared to voice such thoughts aloud. Just one of those unexplainable phenomena that you have to witness for yourself to truly believe it. Sometimes the Six Eyes see way beyond mortal comprehension, though you would think that with the existence of Curses, those familiarised with Jujutsu would be more accepting of Satoru’s oddities. 

Phft. 

The soles of his sandals touched gravel instead of cobblestone, and Satoru looked up from where one of the strings were squirming under his solid step, blinking away the stars from his eyes to correctly decipher himself to be about 100 metres away from his usual building. He thought about it, shrugged, and continued to venture on. No doubt his caretakers would first look for him in his quarters anyway, best to hide away somewhere else for a few hours. 

Crunch. An otherworldly squeal. Throwing a glare at the stupid piece of Schrodinger’s string, the white-haired child barely held back a snarl, the sound ultimately trailing off into a nebulous gruff as he studied the way the strings scattered before him mid-air. 

With the way they were positioned, Satoru wondered if they were trying to lead him towards something. A boon maybe. More possibly a trap. Barely a second passed before he just followed along, shrugging to himself and thinking, what’s the harm? Nothing would scratch him after all. Plus, he was bored. 

The numerous bright lights of the compound grew dimmer and dimmer the further along he walked. The small cluster of trees implanted inside grew denser, and save for the occasional crickets, it is quiet. It is also darker at this corner as compared to the rest of the estate, and Satoru remembered that he had never ventured to this side of the clan grounds before; he is past the servant quarters already. Always so obedient, he sneered silently towards himself, and intentionally put so much force in his step that the ground cracked. Whatever.

All the while, the trails of fate beckon him, ever so seductively. So he does.

He followed the wisps of enthralling destiny, shaped like fireflies, dancing in the night. 

He followed them in curious trepidation, for the closer he ventured, the more his eyes picked up on the wisps of flickering cursed energy --merely a gasp of a burning bonfire, but heavy and concentrated nonetheless. They should burn his eyes, almost everything in this world does, really, but they did not. How could he have missed such a heavy signature, even when he knows that the barrier circling around the Gojo compound heavily dampens all cursed signatures for both living and nonliving beings; mainly to preserve the clan’s secrecy, but also for Satoru’s sake as well.

Will-O-wisp, asundering flickers. A paradox, a fire that was burning brighter to rival even that of the Sun yet stflied, choking itself to be extinguished. Without even realising it, his footsteps quickened, his pulse picking up. From curiosity? Excitement? He does not know, but he is captivated nonetheless. 

Closer, he moved. Closer, he sees more than just the light of a building growing brighter. 

There.

Glistening blue, as bright as the sky and as cordial as the Heaven itself met that of stormy grey, specks of stardust, glittering thunder hidden behind the rolling clouds. 

And for the very first time in his very young life, finally, a reflection of his eyes, inside someone’s else. 

There was a speck of recognition dwelling in the storm despite the fact Satoru knows that they have not met before --because Satoru would have remembered him, who is he, who is he -- and Satoru knew that his reputation had preceded him. His eyes were also a dead giveaway. He braced himself for the usual onslaught of negativity --terror, malice, jealousy. 

There was none. (Though there is merely profound sadness)

What. What. 

A crackle of lightning, intertwined with strings of fate. Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice. 

Divergence. 

“Who are you?”

.

.

.

For all his life, humans both revered and feared him, bowing before his feet with curses of abomination while singing praises for the Honoured One.  

Finally, finally.

“Nii-san!”

His brother grunted when Satoru collided into him, arms spread wide. Satoru let out a very large grin, intentionally letting his weight fall against his brother, who, despite the slightly exasperated huff that he let out, let Satoru cling to him. The book that the other was holding before Satoru tackled him fell to the ground, and Kakashi bent down to pick it up with Satoru still wrapped around him. The younger giggled when his feet left the ground, relishing in his indulgent brother’s warmth. As of now, the tips of Satoru’s messy locks barely reached his brother’s abdomen, and Kakashi was fully aware of this particular fact, for after he turned to face the clingy heir, he towered over Satoru with his hands on his hip, face mellowed with fondness and a silver of delight. 

“Nii-san! Nii-Nii!” The words that Satoru never thought he would have the pleasure of saying, ever, easily fell from his lips, “Good morning! It’s morning!”

Kakashi’s eyes, as illustrious as the crescent moon that hung by Satoru’s window at night, creased close in familiar reverence, though they were gentle; kind. Blanketed yet by the same stars that adorned their lineage, and yet, so different from his skylit cerulean, thunderclouds covering the gradient of blue. Satoru lapped it all up as, almost purring when his brother did one of his things that Satoru very much likes, patting his head, bony fingers carding gently through tufts of white. 

“Yes, yes. Good morning, Satoru.” Kakashi said, with a laugh. “How was morning training?”

Satoru babbled on, while Kakashi encouraged him with timely nods and gentle prods, never interrupting. They went inside when Satoru let out a whine that he was still hungry even after having breakfast, because he used a lot of energy during training (“But I didn’t break a sweat at all during training, nu uh! I’m too strong for that!”), Kakashi absent-mindedly sorting through his cabinets to make a quick breakfast of tamago kake gohan, with Satoru still dangling around his waist, face buried in the fabric of Kakashi’s yukata. The older has given up removing Satoru from his person when the other become a clingy octopus after the sixth occurance of this event, knowing that it was easier to just give Satoru the cuddles he want. 

Regardless of the odd timings. 

His (second) breakfast was a simple affair considering; it was only egg on rice after all, but as simplistic as it was, the rice was fluffy and soft, its warmth slowly cooking the raw egg poured on top of it. The splash of soy sauce and the arrangement of bonito flakes and sliced scallions easily added more to the umami factor, and Satoru hummed in satisfaction as he practically inhaled the dish. A most wonderfully uncomplicated and satisfying breakfast.

His brother was amazing. Satoru returned to his clinging, the two going outside once more to enjoy the mild weather, the midday sun just peeking over the clouds. Kakashi was mentioning something about in-season fruits, as he absent-mindedly carted his bony fingers through Satoru’s hair again. 

But enough of that, Satoru was here today with a very Important Agenda, and he’s not going to let more head pats from Kakashi-nii distract him. 

“Ne, ne, Nii-nii~,” Satoru employed his old reliable technique: The Puppy Dogs Eyes. He made sure to blink cutely, puffing out his cheeks when his brother glanced down at him with an amused brow raised. “When’s your birthday?”

His brother stilled. 

“My…birthday?” Kakashi-nii’s face was blank, his eyes blinking slowly as he processed Satoru’s question. 

When it was apparent that his brother was having trouble comprehending his question, Satoru chirped in helpfully, “You know? Your birthday? The day you were born?”  Silly Nii-san, Satoru thought, still with cheerfulness, sometimes his brother can be so air-headed. How could one not know what a birthday is? 

“Oh, it’s on the 15^th—“ Kakashi stilled; his mouth clamped shut suddenly, and Satoru waited patiently for a continuation (He tried, because Kakashi-nii had scolded him more than once that he was too impatient). A couple of awkward seconds passed by before Satoru pressed: 

“Fifteen of what?”

“…No,” A deep inhale, a deliberate slow exhale as his brother rubbed at his eyes, his brows suddenly furrowed with…distress? “…That’s not it anymore. That’s…not…” His breathless voice was muted, diminutive, rattled with sudden anxiety. It appeared that he was talking more to himself than to Satoru, head tilted forward so deeply that his chin almost touched his chest. 

It took another millisecond for the younger to realise his brother’s authentic anguish. Satoru’s smile fell, and with it, his cheer. Has he unintentionally done something wrong? 

“…Nii-san?” Satoru pawed at Kakashi’s chest to grab his attention, trying hard to peer through the bangs of silver that covered his brother’s haunted eyes. 

At least his voice drew Kakashi from his trance somewhat, though his pupils were shrunken, his irises a large mirror of unfiltered emotions. Kakashi shook his head, his focus once more on Satoru. He tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace instead. His brows pinched together, as if he was in pain,  “…I..Uh, actually…”

“…I actually don’t…don’t know when my birthday is. I’m sorry, Satoru.” 

What? 

What?

“How could you not know your own birthday, Nii-nii?” Satoru asked, wide-eyed and exasperated. 

Still that strained smile. Kakashi-nii’s eyes were clouded, distant. He laughed, but Satoru knew when Kakashi-nii’s laugh was genuine, because it reminded him of wind chimes, and his eyes always crinkled as he did so. This one was short and raspy, like he was forcing it out from his chest. His brows furrowed deeply. “Please forgive your forgetful older brother, Satoru. My birthday…is not something I think of often.”

Before Satoru could comment further on that, Kakashi-nii stood up, and his mind was still apparent elsewhere, as his eyes were hazy and unfocused, looking way beyond Satoru. Satoru glanced over his shoulder just to make sure there was no one else but them in the courtyard. Sure enough, they were alone, his Six Eyes deciphering that the nearest person was two buildings over. 

For the duration of the six months that Satoru has come to know his brother’s existence and company, Kakashi-nii was sometimes like this, like he was seeing things that Satoru cannot see, as ludicrous as that notion was. It was something of a fact, a reality, that Satoru realised that he was slowly coming to hate, because his brother always looked so…so sad, defeated, his shoulders slumped forward akin to a monk kneeling for forgiveness. 

“I don’t think I feel…too great today, Satoru. Can we play together some other time?”

‘Playing’ with Kakashi-nii was just another word to ‘training’ really, with the both of them roughhousing and generally going at each other in the small free space that exists in front of Kakashi’s living quarters. Considering that his brother was still looking way past him, that unseeing glaze embedded in those grey eyes, Satoru bit back his protests, and instead nodded his head. 

Lips pursed, Satoru stared at Kakashi’s retreating back, the stone in his chest heavy. 

He wished to follow in his footsteps, to hold onto his brother’s arm and simply demand and ask, “What’s wrong? Why are you sad?” until he gets his answers, but he knows Kakashi will merely divert his attention to consoling him instead, whether via training or food bribes, and Satoru, ashamedly, would be completely distracted (Damn you, Kakashi-nii’s food).  

Satoru instead let his feet wander, half a mind telling him to let Kakashi-nii keep his peace. Though the weather was still great, he was not enjoying it all; his thoughts were scattered everywhere, like pollen in the wind. A derisive sound escaped his lips. He felt beads of something red and raw simmering deep in his veins, and it is a confusing feeling, one that he does not think he had experienced before. He blinked rapidly, something caught in his eyes. Why are they itchy? He rubbed at them with an arm, annoyed at how his breath kept stuttering despite his hardest. 

That look of forlornness, Satoru hates it, he realised, and eased up on his clenched fists, prickles of blood already showing signs of flowing. He wiped them on his sleeves, uncaring. The ugliness stayed inside however. 

Frustration welled, bubbled and tipped over. He kicked away a pebble, the force strong enough to propel it straight through the base of a tree. 

He remembered. 

“Why are you so...different?” The other white-haired boy, with his silver hair and surging tides of cursed energy, turned to raise a questioning brow at the future heir. 

“Different how?” He pressed the last flesh of the fruit onto Satoru’s palm. 

Instead of answering, Satoru threw out his own question.

“Don’t you know who I am?” Though his voice was stable, his heart beat in his throat. Waiting for the moment the facade will fall as soon as he knows. 

The boy cocked his head, and Satoru braced himself for the answers that he knew so well. 

Six Eyes. The Gojo Heir. The Honoured One. Young Master. Demon. Monster--

“Of course I know.” The older boy has said, and his eyes turned into smiling crescents. “You’re---.”

“Satoru.”

Startled out of his thoughts  -- and when has he gotten so deep inside them to not notice his brother approaching him, dangerous, his instincts screamed at him, and Satoru forcefully stomped them down before it’s Kakashi-nii--, Satoru whirled to look at Kakashi, who offered him a meek smile. 

“I’m sorry.” Kakashi said, moving his hand in a motion that beckons him closer. For some reason, he brushed his fingers over the corner of Satoru’s eyes, going away damp. When did it rain? “You took the time to come visit me, so even if we can’t train together today...Maybe we can do something else--oof.” Kakashi let out a puff of breath, a hint of laughter in it when Satoru practically jumped onto him, latching onto his abdomen as usual. “There, there. Don’t cry,” He patted Satoru. “Though it won’t be nearly as exciting as our usual spars--”

“Itsfine.” Satoru quickly said, voice muffled by fabric. He tilted his head back to say more clearly, “It’s fine...I don’t mind at all.”

As long as I’m with you. 

Once more, once more, Kakashi-nii smiled down at him with tender greyclouds. Satoru tilted his head in puzzlement as his brother placed his hands upon his hips before he lifted Satoru up with surprising ease, not stopping until the squealing younger was perched upon his shoulders. 

“Nii-san!” Satoru screeched and giggled some more as Kakashi intentionally swayed to the left, the higher viewpoint adding more to his euphoria. He gripped his brother’s fluffy crown, as gentle as he could even as a litany of gibberish escaped him. “Nii-nii! You should r-rest.” 

“Not before we stroll around for a bit, no?” Kakashi replied with utmost seriousness. “Plus, when else are you gonna be able to enjoy being this high up?” Never mind the fact that Satoru had plenty of time to catch up to him. He bounced once, catching more shrieks.  

“Meanie, Nii-nii! I’ll grow taller than you, just wait and see!” 

Once Satoru had a taste of that unbridled kindness, those tender eyes looking unrestrainedly at him, directly at him, despite the bright challenging gaze of the Six Eyes, he found himself unwilling to let go. Does not want to let go. 

Childish fervour, he found that if he shrieks just loud enough, makes the most annoying, dramatic bouts of declarations even at the most mundane of things, he can snap his brother from whatever melancholic despair that so often grips him. 

Nii-san. Nii-san. 

He pressed himself closer to Kakashi’s warmth, white strands tickling his cheek. 

He knows that he alone cannot mend the wound in Kakashi’s heart, the one that prompted that distant gaze. 

But like all things in the world, he can certainly try. 

.

.

.

25^th of June. 

That was Kakashi-nii’s birthday. And after much probing (and threatening his guardians to comb through the clan archives), that particular tidbit of information was brought to him. He had asked Kakashi’s own guardian first, though Homura admittedly that she had only started taking care of Kakashi when he was 5, after that incident that required closer eyes on his brother. Beyond the age that she was given and keeping track, Homura was not privy to such information unfortunately, beyond that of her servant duties.  

He looked at the nearby calendar; it was fortunate timing that his curiosity had started nagging at him, because it was exactly in the heart of June, which means that he has about a week and a half before the day of the event. 

Thoroughly excited, he shooed away his ashen-faced caretakers, who looked like they had swallowed bitter pills, knowing the punishments that will surely befall them for letting their Heir mingle and meddle with the clan’s scourge once again. 

After they scurried away with their tails tucked between their legs, Satoru plopped himself upon his bed, pondering to himself the next step. Right. Now that’s done, so what should he do now? 

What do you do on someone's birthday?

Certainly not like a full-blown formal ceremony like Satoru himself is used to. Even if it’s an informal one (not that he knows what it really feels like), a party is out of the question, knowing Kakashi-nii. He would sooner sooner hide himself in the trees rather than inject himself into a crowd. (Honestly, Satoru would do the same, had done the same).

Not that the both of them have any friends to invite over anyway. (Big oof). 

So that’s left the only other sensible thing to do. Which was just to get Kakashi-nii a birthday present. 

Simple. Right. Easy. 

Except, what does Kakashi-nii like and possibly want? 

Definitely not sweets. Or anything remotely sweet. His brother tends to pass on anything remotely sugary given by his caretaker to his brother instead, unknowingly enabling the growing monster that was Gojo Satoru’s sweet tooth. (Though for Kakashi’s birthday, Satoru can pester someone for a small cake, for his own benefit of course). 

Maybe books? Kakashi-nii loves to collect and read them. But they’re so boring, and there were just so many genres and titles to choose from, and it would just be easier to just bring Kakashi-nii and let him choose what he wants. Except it would just ruin the surprise.

Shame. Satoru pouts to himself. Being defeated by a mere date, he is stumped. He kicked his legs up in the air, burying his face into the marshmallow softness of his pillow. His neck prickled with the dampness of the beginning of Summer. It added more to his growing listless; he’s not too great being under the Sun for very long.

Cicadas screeching in the distance in a melodious manner, it truly serves to remind Satoru of the season. He turned to lay on his back instead, staring up at the ceiling, his mind wandering.

.

.

.

“Nii-san, do you know why your energy is all weird and…tangly?”

A month or so after their initial meeting, Satoru has asked Kakashi. At the time, they were in the garden, and in the midst of winter, they had huddled close together for warmth, Satoru tugging on Kakashi’s sleeves as they walked slowly around the white landscape, the scrunches of snow pillowing beneath their soles. A snowflake landed on his brother’s messy hair, and Satoru watched particularly in interest at the blend of mild colours, still marveling at the fact that he, Gojo Satoru, has a brother. 

“Is it?” Kakashi tilted his head, as if the conversation was merely about the weather and not about one of the literal foundations of the Jujutsu world. He billowed out another white mist. 

“Doesn’t it affect you?” Satoru asked with brimming curiosity. Kakashi-nii’s signature was soothing and gentle, one of the few that didn't hurt his eyes when he properly looked at it. But amidst the intertwines of mild thunder and wildfire, Satoru does admit that it was odd. He has never seen the likes of it before. The manifestation of such positivity in an almost concrete shape, flowing along his nerves. Combine that with Cursed energy, and you got a mix that is akin to oil and water, unmixable, yet unable to be separated. 

The hum that Kakashi let out was a low, mellow one, and he brought a hand on his chin in thought. “I suppose so,” he said after a moment, a puff of misty white exhaling, “I…certainly can’t use it for very long, before it turns against me. But otherwise, I'd like to say that everything remains the same…for better or worse.” 

“Same?” Another aspect of Kakashi-nii that he doesn’t understand, in that he talked as if he wasn’t merely two years older than Satoru, an otherwise abandoned child of the Gojo clan that was to be made to sit in the literal corner as the adults try to figure out what to do with him. 

His brother laughed; his eyes crinkled into that by now, familiar half-moons of an iridescent storm. “Forgive me, forgive me.” His shoulders still shook when he addressed Satoru again. “Sometimes your brother is so absent-minded. Maybe instead of words…I should just show it to you. And you’ll understand way faster thanks to your eyes anyway.”

Again, more of Kakashi-nii’s eccentricity that he doesn’t entirely grasp but found himself like: His brother has always referred to the Six Eyes as something...ordinary. Not ordinary ordinary, but as in, he’s used to it, being in the same vicinity with something as powerful and divine as the Six Eyes. At first, Satoru was, admittedly, put off at the lack of disrespect and fear, but has quickly latched onto Kakashi-nii’s indifference, opting to think of it as a blessing instead. 

His brother lowered onto his haunches, bringing up his reddened fingers together in a careful arc, his palms facing together. Satoru followed, curious eyes peering closely. 

A mere spark of a tinder, Kakashi-nii began to gather a slow, careful stream of cursed energy in the middle, a swirl of icy blue that swelled deeply with pulses. It took shape from nothing. Before something emerged from the cold air, currents halted into a more concrete shape, visible to see.  At first, it was merely the size of a pea, but it gradually grew, bit by bit, into a glossy ball, as big as his palm. 

It is amazing, with the way the sphere hovers languishly mid-air, neither harmful nor destructive, despite being molded by absolute negativity. But as Satoru observed closer, he noticed; it is lined with that dormant positivity, containing and balancing its other, opposite half. It swirled together with the negativity, a harmonious balance, a slow, deliberate dance of opposite forces, giving rise to each other, completing each other into a visible form. Such a meticulous show of complete finesse and mastery, and yet Kakashi-nii looked completely at ease, not a hint of weariness shown. 

With glowing sapphire, Satoru stared at his brother in admiration; simultaneous manipulation over both negative and reversed energy was not something that even he had managed to grasp yet, the sheer difficulty of managing it so exorbitant that with the natural knowledge and latent techniques to do so, there exists only a handful of Jujutsu sorcerers.

And here, his brother was doing just that on his own without any guidance.

Kakashi-nii’s eyes crinkled with mirth at Satoru’s wide-eyed starry gaze, ladened with unusual youthful conceit and pride. He poured more of his energy into the swirling ball, until cracks appeared on the surface, spreading like glossy spiderwebs. 

Until finally--

“Ah,” Satoru let out the tiniest of gasps. 

It blooms! Like it actually bloomed. The orb split opened like a sepal, the motion of a real flower emerging from a mere bud, blossoming into unfurling, translucent petals of six. The stream of energy crystalising into the parts of stamen and pistil, the flower shook with life, and, against the white of the snow, it glowed most beautifully, a literal essence of magnificence and splendor as it casted a soft bluish glow over his brother’s soft features and gentle eyes.

While his gaze was transfixed upon the illuminating illusionary flower, Kakashi-nii gave a wide grin, pleased with himself. 

“This,” He began, the drone of his voice a low slur, “Is a physical projection of a Lily. I haven’t seen one in a while, so this is just a replication of the image that I’ve conjured in my mind, so don’t mind any inaccuracies. Nevertheless, with a bit of shape manipulation with my cha— cursed energy, and the correct ratio, I’m able to condense and stabilise its form to this degree. Of course, this much precision in manufacturing this organic shape does need quite heavy management in the form, movement flow and potency of ch—cursed energy, even more when trying to maintain it.”

Satoru absorbs all of this like a sponge, dismissing the stutters as mere nervousness. His brother does not typically speaks at lengths after all. “I’m seeing reversed energy as well, Nii-san. So you’re manipulating both at once, drawing both into neutrality?”

Kakashi confirmed Satoru’s observations.

Amazing. Satoru’s eyes eagerly resumed examining the flower, noting every single detail about it and correlating it with his brother’s earlier explanation. Memorizing it, so that he would be able to try and replicate it later, or incorporating it into his own techniques. Knowing and explaining the theory and actually showing it is where his instructors had failed, so it’s best to take advantage of Kakashi-nii’s generosity while he still can.

There was a childish, nagging curiosity that led to Satoru asking:

“So why a flower specifically, Nii-san?” He has no doubts that Kakashi-nii could have easily chosen any other objects he could use for his demonstration.

A shrug. “Must be the first thing that came to my mind.”

Uh. “Do you like flowers then?”

Again, that odd look appeared on his brother’s face, which, when surrounded in a realm of white, the dreary colours of winter, made his complexion look so much paler and more lustrous, akin to a diamond twinkling in a snowstorm. Any duller and Satoru reckons that he could easily lose his brother in the snow, if he doesn’t possess the Six Eyes, of course. So his fear was unfounded. 

But he sincerely hoped that Kakashi-nii wouldn't melt in the snow. 

“I…suppose so.” His brother replied in a shy muse, the image of the crystalline blue petals reflecting at Satoru from within those grey irises, illumination of the specks of deep blue that hid between the thunderclouds. Satoru investigated those inky depths, at the stars, and wondered briefly, if Fate had diverged its ways, that his brother would have been the blessed one rather than him?

“Or rather,” Kakashi paused, licking his chapped lips. “…I think I’m fonder of the…implications, so to say.” 

Satoru cocked his head at that. 

A breathless laugh that misted in the frosty air, and Satoru pouted some more as Kakashi messed up his hair again with a soft ruffle, a hand still delicately palming the mirage of the Lily blossom. “Hanakotoba.” Kakashi stated, and Satoru wrinkled his nose; he had heard of the term once before, when his tutors had tried lecturing of their significance with Jujutsu, but Satoru had tuned them out because it was just so boring. 

The meaning of the flowers. The Language of Flowers.

Kakashi’s eyes flickered over to him, dark eyelashes catching just the tiniest bit of snowflakes, peppering them with a bit of white. “I find it fascinating that humans managed to use inanimate objects and even living flowers as a form of unspoken communication. Be it romanticism or just a way to avoid direct confrontation, or to convey a hidden meaning each time. Like a puzzle or sorts.”

Satoru puffed out his chest. “I found it stupid to be honest. Can’t people just say what they want directly? Like with words? Face-to-face? Instead of all these…omission and layers.” Feelings. How convoluted. 

Again, Kakashi let out a chuckle, never one to admonish Satoru for anything, even if it was something that regards his interests. His moonshine eyes glittered with specks of ethereal blue, like listless fireflies upon a summer night as his gaze fell upon the illusion of a flower once more, reflecting the illustrious blue. “Indeed. But sometimes…the words that we wanted to say…they just.” Here, he swallowed, his cheeks flushing. From what exactly? “Remain lodged inside…Pride…Cowardice even. Those feelings that we have but can never convey. So maybe, they decided to convey such feelings through other, easier methods. Indirect means, to forward their emotions without the need for words.” A huff. “Certainly much easier than just facing their fears and consequences head-on, unable to run away.”

“Humans are weird.” Satoru replied, making a distasteful expression. 

Kakashi said nothing for a moment, his wistful stare casted upon the fragile flower in his hands, luminous, fluttering, yet beautiful all the same. Then his voice whispered, so low that Satoru almost missed it. 

“Indeed we are.”

Satoru’s eyes foresaw it before it happened. 

A pull of energy, curling inwards. The flow that was kept halted abruptly recoiled with explosive momentum, like an elastic band being released. An overpowering negative surge as it swept away the reversed energy, consuming it, destroying the precarious balance. An energy so condensed that it was near physical, a dangerous tumor of cursed energy as it slammed against his brother’s innards, eager for more. Like it was alive, it then slithers upwards, looming dangerously close to his brother’s heart and lungs.

Kakashi-nii’s expression was one of shock, unexpected, shards of pain etching on the crease of his brows and lip before he collapsed completely onto his knees before a deep ragged cough that also sounded suspiciously wet erupted in the silence.

With a yelp, Satoru rushed forward, eyes wide. Falling onto his knees, ignoring the friction burn on his knees, he reached out for his brother.

Its concentration to this realm interrupted, the flower wilted and melted away into nothingness. A mere grasp of a fleeting existence. 

Already Satoru ignored its pitiful transiency, fingers grasping to steady Kakashi’s hunching, quivering form instead. He resisted the urge to lurch back when he found that each touch to Kakashi’s skin sent frazzling electricity to Satoru’s nerves that he had to activate Infinity to avoid being electrocuted. 

His own cursed energy, Satoru realised as he pressed his palms to steady his brother from falling face-first into the snow. It’s practically killing him from the inside out. Even between the void, he felt its sundering crackle, of fire and lightning, eager to tear into his brother’s lifeforce, its roots embedded deep into his core.

Though he was not the one who had his own body fighting him, Satoru felt utter agony. 

Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Kakashi was a little bit shaky as he straightened from his curl. He caught Satoru’s expression. “I-I’m fine. It looks much worse than it feels, really...I must be catching a cold.” The lie was not convincing when his voice sounded so strained, and the both of them knew that. 

“A mere cold wouldn’t have you coughing up blood, Nii-san.” And making your reserves eat itself from the inside out, like a cannibalistic being.

Kakashi’s laugh was slightly sardonic even as he hesitantly wiped at his mouth, coming away with smears of crimson. “Well, an advanced cold then. We should go inside before the temperature drops even more.”

Satoru’s frown deepened at the dismissal, but before he could say anything more about the matter, Kakashi propped himself against Satoru’s side, wincing with an apologetic look. Sighing, Satoru put away the argument that he was about to dish out, though his Six Eyes never ceased in observing the never-ending waves of tumultuous energy.

He threw a discreet glance over his shoulder, even as he helped Kakashi walk back to his room, his arm slung over Satoru’s shoulder. A wary glare trained exactly at the tiny splatter of blood that was a sharp contrast against the canvas of white. 

The same spot where the flower was both brought to life and simultaneously, extinguished from it. A derivative meaning. 

Course anger filtered through his veins, red hot. 

He hates it. He hates everything about it. 

The Six Eyes burns. Within them a turmoil of emotion, but most of all: resolve. 

For Satoru does not want Kakashi to become that very flower. 

Beautiful, mystical, but lasted only a moment, a fleeting beauty in a moment's time.

. 

.

.

He refused. 

.

.

.

“Nii-san.” Satoru called out, trying his best to contain his voice from betraying his excitement. 

Kakashi glanced over at Satoru, his eyes flickering briefly over something above Satoru’s head, but though there was a brief flash of amusement, kindly, he said nothing. 

Satoru appreciated that. 

“Yes Satoru?” His brother has a small, wispy smile as Satoru nears him, his footsteps a bit wobbly and his arms behind him. 

The younger beamed, his fingers firmly clasping around the gift. “I’ve got a surprise for you!” And after his brother let out a diminutive, interested noise, Satoru revealed it. 

It was a long time spent thinking it through, what he should get. Nights of tossing and turning, mind churning. He had even spent hours leafing through the books that he hated, in order to make his gift into one of perfection, worthy. Thus, when he had made up his mind, he had forced one of his caretakers to bring him into town, quickly ditching him afterwards in favor of fulfilling the goal that he had sought out for in mind. 

And what he had gotten was--

“Here!”

A sunflower.

It was a tall thing, its disc floret almost spanning as big as Satoru’s head. Satoru tries very hard not to let it flop over him, because of how long the stalk is compared to him, looming over his head. Hence why Kakashi has looked at something above him with amusement at the ‘surprise’. 

“What is this for, Satoru?” He could his brother trying hard not to chuckle.

“It’s for your birthday, Nii-nii!” Satoru let his mouth stretch into a wide beam, youthful exuberance lacing his tone, “You mentioned before that you...uh, well, somewhat like flowers, and you’re always moping around looking all mopey and dejected—“ Rocking on his heels, brimming with excitement, Kakashi-nii’s face took on an affronted expression as if in denial at Satoru’s words, but Satoru quickly pushed through before the other could even open his mouth. “--So, I got you a sunflower! To cheer you up!”

“A-Ah?” The noise that Kakashi-nii let out was small but nonetheless, jocular. Satoru giggled at his brother, who was spectacularly rendered speechless when Satoru shoved the sunflower into his grasp so hard the large flora slapped his brother in the face with a loud audible smack. 

Satoru placed his hands on his hips, voice deliberately pitched way higher and squeakier in an imitation of the too peppy girl from the flower shop. “No flower can lift someone's spirits quite like sunflowers! They are bright and cheery, and as warm and inviting as the sweet summer sun. A perfect gift to cheer someoneeeeee up!”

“S-Satoru.” Satoru grinned widely when Kakashi brought up a hand to cover his own mouth, trying hard to contain his string of giggles but failing. His shoulders trembled lightly in laughter, so Satoru counted this as a win, because it is one whenever Kakashi-nii laughs. 

Wind chimes, literal chimes of bells. It was always a soothing sound. 

“It’s today, Nii-san.” Satoru heavily stressed, fisting a hand onto the helm of Kakashi’s yukata. “Your birthday, that is. It’s on the 25^th of June. Don’t forget.”

“…You didn’t have to, Satoru,” Kakashi huffed, but betraying his words, there was a small smile pulling at the other’s lips, a crack of genuine happiness and astonishment. His eyes shone with light as he smooshed back Satoru’s hair from his forehead, making it stick out even more. 

“But I want to!” Satoru truly did; he wants to find out the day of his brother’s birth, the one and currently, only person who as of now who acknowledges Satoru. Someone who was not afraid of Satoru for what he is. For who he is.  One who has helped Satoru realise that, despite his gifts, despite his tumultuous growing power, he’s--

Just a person. A human, despite his blessings. 

Satoru’s a human because he has bonded with Kakashi-nii, hasn’t he? 

And…being a human is not as bad as he had thought before, if he could be with Nii-nii like this, carefree and joyful, even if Satoru knows it’s ephemeral. Even if the path will inevitably lead, has already led to Satoru being the epicenter of the Jujutsu world, his brother in his shadow. 

Because…because…

He took in his brother’s warmth, sky-lit eyes taking in Kakashi’s nearly otherworldly presence, fixated, entranced, at how despite everything that he has been denied in life, the kindling of life was still stubbornly clinging on, threading through the path of darkness. 

It was like watching a fluttering firefly in the endless night, seeking solace from what’s beyond. 

Before, Satoru would have called it a weakness. A sign of being weak. He would have mercilessly squash the bug with his mere cursed energy before without a single shred of remorse. 

But now...but now.... 

Satoru’s not so sure. The feeling has waned somewhat, and instead of destruction, the usual dispassionate  burst of callousness, he found himself wanting…

Desiring...wishing…

To...to protect.

The firefly. The flower. 

Everything. 

…Because Satoru’s not as alone as he originally thought. He has Kakashi-nii. Kakashi-nii, who was kind and gentle, whose words were never uttered in a mix of reverence and fear, and whose eyes were not sullened with feelings of damnation and hatred. 

And Kakashi-nii has him. The Honoured him, the blessed him, the one who has turned the balance of the world upon its head. 

Him. 

“…Alright.” With a bright toothy grin, Satoru handed Kakashi the stalk of sunflower, the other accepting the gift in a very deliberate and careful manner, as if his fingers were wrapped around a precious diamond instead. His brother held the bright flower intimately close, the golden petals tickling his rosy cheeks, his facial expression relaxed and open for the first time in a while. Strands of moonlight silver ruffled in the light midsummer breeze, lustre under the omnipresent sun. His lidded eyes were perspicuous, deep ashy grey absent from that misty pain and focused entirely on the present, for now at least. 

So please.

Satoru held close, his tiny fists clenched tightly in the fabric of his older brother’s yukata, magnificent pools of crystal blue staring up adoring at that kind, soft mile, transfixed by the uniqueness of it all. Despite the futility of it all. 

Because he wants. 

To stretch this fleetingness instead into an infinity. 

Please.

Kakashi-nii.

I’m here. 

Look at me instead.

Your younger brother.

Satoru. 

.

.

.

🌼 (Marigold -- Jealousy, Despair, Grief)

One...Two...Three…

He counted in his mind, trying both to make himself focus on steadying his frantic breathing and ground him to reality lest he would fall into another bout of his living nightmares.

Blood. 

Today’s particular coughing fit was bad. 

His throat burned. Still, he was granted no respite, and the next series of coughs left him gasping feebly for air, acid pooling atop of his esophagus. His eyes watered, the ringing in his ears increasing with every passing seconds, an unwanted companion to his rising anguish. Kakashi curled in further upon himself, legs kicking out against his futon, causing the sheet to spread askew. Dots of red adorned the white linen, a product of his ailment, seeds of flowers that had yet to be sprouted. Even now, more of it dribbled from his lips, staining them a shining deep ruby. 

Hot. 

It burns.

It unfurled deep in his chest, constricting his lungs in a familiar seize of desperation, blocking his airways like there was physical blockage. He tasted bile and metal, his taste buds laced with ash and dust, filling his mouth with the barren flavor of death. The light tickling of his throat persisted even as he heaved, each movement jostling the object wedged deep inside, one of many. 

One...Two...Three…

His fingers curled around the foreign object half-crushed beneath his knuckles, a natural soft velvet that kissed the creases of his flesh. 

Listless eyes, glazed over in weariness and yearning, concentrated themselves upon the vivid petals of yellowish orange. 

Earlier between his throes, he has coughed out a sole Marigold, the edges of its petals dotted with speck of blood. It is a lovely thing, yet it is also a cause of misery. As he squinted closer to observe, the scent of smoke wafted off strongly from the flora, Kakashi was reminded of that time, of a far gone era.

He was alone. 

There was no Satoru to drown out the frantic whispers that were a constant buzz in his ears, constantly filling his blood with, to distract their bitter truth and poison of reality. A circumstance that is both a blessing and a curse. He misses Satoru greatly, but at the same time, glad that his younger brother is thriving at his school, surrounded by friends and comrades. 

Even if the path he’s going is just ladened with death and heartbreak. 

One...Two...Three...

…What day is it again? Kakashi couldn’t remember. Everything passes by like a daydream, fleeting and weightless. His breath was insignificant. Crimson pooled like a glossy mirror, pillowed by tainted petals. 

He turned and twisted, in agony both in body and soul. Internally, he screamed, as silent as a raging undercurrent. Befall, the question that plagues his very existence. 

Failure, such a failure. Burden, always a burden. (Late, infallibly so. Sensei, sensei, Kakashi, Kakashi, a reflection of those who fell before him, for the sake of him, a cheap imitation, a hollow echo of someone else's ideals and hopes that he failed to uphold.)

Something laughed in the corner, and Kakashi felt blood rushing to his ears. 

Is everything he does even matter? 

Is it a release? (Is it bad that he wishes it so?)

He was going to die no matter what, the ache in his body was the only constant thing that Kakashi was aware of. The shakiness of his limbs seemed to increase day-by-day, every intake of air less and less than before. 

Sensei, sensei! He heard distant voices from familiar people, of sunshine, of cherry blossoms and of cracking fire.  He wanted to call out, but his vision swam. He was drowning. 

He’s tired. His limbs ached. His soul yearns. 

He wanted to see them. 

All the people he’d disappointed, but very much missed. 

Grovel. Beg. Forgiveness. Sorry. Sorry. Sorrysorrysorry---

One...Two...Three…

Then another title rang out, from admist the whispered screaming. 

Nii-san!

Kakashi’s eyes opened blearily to soak in fuzzy shapes of his surroundings

Nii-san! A laugh. Nii-nii! . 

No. No.

He can’t die. Not yet at least.

Satoru.

Satoru. 

His brother. 

HIs knuckleheaded, overpowered, clingy, stupid, adorable, younger brother, with eyes that was a mirror of the cerulean sky, blessed with light. With his messy curls, white as clouds, a warm contrast to the mirage of scorched earth, filled with wilted flowers. His warm hands, too clingy fingers always fisting in Kakashi’s clothes, a heavy anchor to reality. His pouts of childish bouts, which never fail to bring joy in the otherwise monochrome world. His reason to live.

Kakashi was not alone. His fingers itched. 

Kakashi doesn’t want Satoru to be alone. Satoru would be alone again. He can’t be alone, that child has always hated being alone. Satoru would be alone again. Nonononononono--His fingers trembled. 

...He hacked up more blood. Thus reality was a harsh reminder. 

...

Time. Kakashi knew he had little of it. 

He wants to make sure Satoru will be taken care of, to be able to live on when Kakashi…

...Because Kakashi knew first-hand how it felt to be completely and utterly alone, the sole figure of his childhood life bled away from his own self-inflicted wound, staining the wood beneath a deep, guttural red. Oh how the floorboards soaked deeply in crimson, a stained reminder that lasted for haunted years to come. 

An echo of the past, billowing whispers of familiar feelings. 

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. 

For not being strong enough for you.

Kakashi laid back down upon his bed, vision going hazy and mirages of a past that once was his flashing before his frazzled mind. Memories flew by before him, a lifetime of all the things that made Kakashi Kakashi, and all the things that also broke him. 

Ah, ah. 

I want to see it again. 

His emotions are warm and bubbling amongst his blood and saliva. 

He remembers. Of warm sunlight and an ever warmer smile, bringing forth a litany of cheers and determination, of hope-filled (empty, broken) promises and a desire to strive, to protect (lies, lies). 

He despairs. When the very sunlight has been extinguished, replaced with the unbearable dim glow of the overhead moon, tinted with raw, abrasive emotions, yet went unspoken, unheard. 

He hopes. For the sun-filled darkness to be overturned and for it to be once more, shedding its light upon the unworthy him. Even if it was him. 

He misses. Still so very much. Even as the unfortunately familiar seep of helplessness and remorse began swirling like a whirlpool – and they were so many of them, too many to count, yet they all came back to him in a flurry of static and accusing humming, began to claw their way inside his lungs, and the ceiling began to drip stalactites formed from blood, Kakashi cradled the godforsaken flower close to his chest, like it was his only salvation. Wooden tendrils of black ripped through the floorboards, soaked with so much crimson that they dropped in gushing streams onto the flooring, eager to hear his pleas, his reckoning. They crept closer, curling upwards and around him like a mocking, blooming flower. He mouthed against one of the defiled petals:

I miss you. My hero. 

In the summer wind, the flower swayed, unanswering.

One...Two...Three…

..

...Four....

.

.

.

💐 (Daffodil - Mirth, Joyousness, Respect)  

Taking care of his grip on the bouquet in his hand, Nanami tried very very hard to ignore the near smugness radiating from Haibara, who beamed so brightly that he was reminiscent of the sun when he glanced at the arrangement of flora. As they trekked through the school grounds, on their way to the infirmary, Haibara’s exuberant chattering filled the silence between them, talking about nothing yet everything at the same time. As always, Nanami was content to just listen, occasionally giving him inputs and grunts to convey his (dis)interest. 

“--And then my sis literally threw her plate at me--” How strange. Nanami was sure Haibara was talking about the new movie premiering in the cinema just a few seconds ago. Then again, his classmate does have a tendency to jump topics like a frog. 

Nevertheless, he let his classmate’s cheery voice sweep over him as they continued their leisurely pace. They went across a row of dense Plane trees; a patch of sunlight caught his gaze, and Nanami found himself eyeing the neat wrap of gauze and bandages wrapped around Haibara’s forehead and right eye,  a handiwork of Ieiri-senpai no doubt. 

…Nanami was sincerely glad that his classmate survived the ordeal of the last mission gone terribly wrong. If Kakashi has not been there by Haibara’s side when the Second-turned-First Grade curse has manifested…then he…Haibara would have possible be kil--

Haibara seemed to sense his dark thoughts, for he stopped walking, and just before Nanami could question him about it, he poked a finger between the creases of Nanami’s brows, earning a soft grunt. “Hey, stop thinking too hard. Your brain is gonna blow up.”

“That’s not how real biology works.” Nanami jabbed back, pushing away Haibara’s hand, but it was more in jest. And judging from the twinkle in Haibara’s dark eyes, the other knew that. 

“Anyway, despite your apparent gaiety, are you sure you’ve recovered enough to go along with visiting Gojo at the infirmary with me?”

“Excuse you, I’m as right as rain right now!” A little titter. “And compared to my physical injuries, which was easy for Ieiri-senpai to heal, I heard her grumbling about Kakashi having to hoard the infirmary for quite some days to recover from energy depletion. Seems like he can’t go on the next mission with us.”

As if his physical injuries weren't dire enough to have gotten him knocked unconscious for nearly a week straight, Nanami gave a little derisive grumble. He was just about to give a lecture of his own when it just dawned on him like he got smacked by his own ratio technique. 

...Wait.

Kakashi? Since when did Haibara refer to Gojo by his first name? 

Something must have shown on his face despite him trying his hardest to reel in his surprise, because the complacency was back on Haibara’s purple-splotched face. “Ohhhhhh, is someone jealous~~?” He teased, unceremoniously jabbing his elbow into the blonde’s sides multiple times. 

Nanami was still relieved over the fact that he could have lost this, that he just took it all in stride, just grunting between jabs. 

After he has had his fun shoving his arm joint into the literal rock that is Nanami, Haibara seemed to sober up, a wistful pull of his lips. “Kakashi saved my life. That makes us warrant past into friendship, don’t cha think?” He said, before posing his hand on his chin in thought. “Though to be honest, Kakashi doesn’t seem to care at all about titles and ranks. Quite an odd ball, considering he’s from one of the main clans. But I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you calling him by his first name as well, Na-na-mi~~”

Nanami decided that for his sake, it would be better if he did not respond. He opted to push on ahead at a significantly faster pace, Haibara trailing behind him with a complacent cheer. 

The infirmary was located in the Southwest corner of Jujutsu Tech, a bit far from where the dormitories were placed, but closer to the classrooms and the training grounds. Understandable, considering that most accidents happen when students try to incorporate Jujutsu theories into their techniques. Or after they went a few rounds beating each other up.

It took them about five minutes of walking, until the unfamiliar dusty rooftop greeted them with its shoddy appearance, but otherwise, the ancient building was well-maintained, as with everything was at Jujutsu High. It was not a small building, in fact, it was actually one of the largest one the school has, a looming three-stories high, due to the infirmary actually being connected to their morgue as well, a hidden fourth level in the ground. Perhaps it was due to this fact that there was rarely any people around the place, preferring to stay clear unless it was absolutely necessary.

A particular chill when Nanami opened the entrance door, revealing the almost completely pitch-black interior of the infirmary. Haibara said something about Ieiri-senpai forgetting to turn on the lights again, but Nanami thought that the female deliberately kept it off as a harmless prank to spook the First Years. Letting out a sigh that echoed in the empty corridors, with practiced routine, he went to where the switches were.

The patients’ rooms don’t have a specific area they were placed, scattered between all levels evenly. Kakashi’s room, Haibara told Nanami, was located at the top floor, the one with arguably the best view of the forest surrounding Jujutsu Tech.

“Also the one that lets you see the cherry blossoms when they’re in full bloom! Absolutely the best spot!”

“Why do you keep track of which infirmary room grants the greatest panorama?” A disgruntled Nanami asked a chuckling Haibara.

They climbed their way to the third floor, Nanami taking care not to jostle the bouquet that was a bit ruffled by the short journey. Their footsteps echoed in pristine hallway, their destination near.

And standing right by the door of Kakashi’s ward, was the very individual that Nanami did not want to see. 

“Yo! Haibara, Nanamin~” Gojo-senpai smiled widely, showing off the gums of his teeth. 

Nanami saw red.

“W-wait, Nanami-!” Haibara’s greeting trailed into a panicked shout that went ignored as Nanami pushed past him, slamming Gojo-senpai hard against the wall until a spidery crack splintered throughout the concrete, his arm pinning the other’s neck. 

The white-haired sorcerer still had that infuriating grin plastered on his face, all teeth with nary a shred of humanity intact as those eyes stared heavily at Nanami. Nanami stared directly into the infinite head-on with no fear, only anger. 

“Why, Nanami, I’m happy to see you too~” Gojo cajoled in a harmonious tune, fuelling the sparks of rage that burned deeply in the pit of Nanami’s stomach. Nanami’s fisted hand shook, tightening further in his spiraling rage at the sight of nonchalantly. 

“Bastard.” There were a lot more damnable words that Nanami would have honestly used, but that was the term that was hissed out from his tight lips, made even more venomous with the lack of any honorifics he typically used to refer to the other with. He pushed harder, making the crack spread bigger and further. His gifted strength was always amongst the highest amongst the students, but even now, Gojo-senpai appeared to be unaffected, blinking at him slowly. His rage coiled at that, so much that he uttered with such vitriol, “Was it fun for you to simply use us?”

Gojo-senpai’s smile fell.  

“Nanami, stop!” Haibara desperately tugged the back of his uniform to separate them, to no avail. Nanami remained stubbornly still as a rock, instead moving his hands until they gripped his upperclassman’s collar with a merciless pull. “I know you don’t like him on any other days-“ He winced at the feigned expression of hurt on his senior’s face, “But this is the infirmary! Why pick a fight here?!”

“Because he. Sent. An. Unauthorised. Civilian. With. Us.” With each word, he shook Gojo-senpai like a ragdoll, which was comedic considering how much taller the other was than him. Gojo-senpai let out a noise akin to a strangled cat. Still, Nanami knew that the other deliberately let him do this to him, or else Nanami wouldn’t even be able to come close to him. 

So Nanami, being very petty, made sure to relish every second of him strangling the younger Gojo. 

“Kento!” Haibara called in desperation, the use of his name a clear sign of his distress and seriousness. It cut through the red haze that plagued Nanami’s raging emotions like a hot knife through butter. “At least let Gojo-senpai say his piece first before you choke him into next week.”

Very reluctantly, Nanami stopped. Gojo-senpai, who was comically lolling his tongue like a dead dog, smoothed his expression into one of sobriety. He placed a hand over Nanami’s hands.

“Alright, alright. I guess playtime’s over.” Nanami’s eyebrow twitched, and the urge to continue throttling was very prominent. “First of all, let me go, Nanami. Choking is not one of my kinks.” Nanami flushed red, but opted to listen, relinquishing his hold of the other’s collar. Gojo-senpai brought up a hand to massage the reddened area, a distinct glimpse of amazement sparkling in those heaven-lit orbs that Nanami absolutely refused to acknowledge, preferring to scowl down at his feet instead. He sensed Haibara lingering nearby, tense and confused by the exchange, feeling his gaze darting back and forth from Nanami to Gojo-senpai, who clicked his tongue. 

“Secondly, and I suppose this...civilian that you were referring to is my brother?” At the slight jerk, the white-haired man harrumphed. “I can assure you, Nanamin, that whatever mischievous and nefarious intention that you thought I was having when I sent Kakashi-nii with you is purely misguided.” Gojo sounded miffed and affronted at that, as if he could not believe that Nanami seriously thought that he would deliberately put Kakashi in danger. 

“He wasn’t even cleared for a mission yet, you dumbass!” Nanami growled, remembering his one-on-one lecture from Yaga-sensei, who thought he was in cahoots with his most rowdy student in breaking the rules. Because Kakashi and Haibara were still unconscious at the time, Nanami was the one who had to take the brunt of the fall; the ache in his knees throbbed, reminding him painfully of the hours he had to spend kneeling while quietly listening to the lecture, both mind and heart racing because he had unknowingly brought a goddamn unauthorised person with them into deliberate danger and possible death.

Was this all just a sick way for the great Gojo Satoru to watch the feeble attempts of low beings trying desperately hard to fight for their lives, to see if they exceed his expectations?  After all, none of them could even compare to the gifted him, the one who could do anything without nary an effort, without any sort of fear for his mortal life. And throughout their school time, Gojo-senpai certainly didn’t spare any expenses at bringing up the obvious gap between them, often belittling those older than him with no respect, like Utahime-san.

So excuse him, Nanami’s blatant contempt is completely warranted.

“You couldn’t even wait for another week or two, Gojo! Why the rush to send your brother on a mission that badly?”

At least Gojo had the courtesy to look sheepish this time. Still, there was something lurking in his expression, something deep and raw, almost abrasive. He looked past them and into the empty corridor, his eyes taking in something with intense scrutiny that immediately made Nanami tensed, fingers itching to reach for his blade. He wanted to look over his shoulder, to see what had gotten the senior so rigid, but even with his senses stretched out as far as he could, Nanami could only feel their three signatures; nary any evidence that their privacy was compromised. With a knowing glance to both Nanami and Haibara, Gojo-senpai made a motion that implored them to follow him, turning on his heels with a sense of flourish that only Gojo Satoru would have. 

A ruffle of plastic  and velvet against his knuckles; Haibara threw Nanami a pointedly, disappointed look as he passed Nanami over the bouquet of flowers that Nanami had thrown to the floor in favor of choking Gojo-senpai. They definitely looked a bit crumpled, and Nanami almost felt ashamed at the disregard of the florist’s hardwork.

When they reached the segment just before the end of the hallway, there was a flash of movement, far too fast for the normal human eye to catch. As it was, even Nanami barely managed to register the action until all that’s left was a small, smoking hole in the wall and his upperclassman peering at something clenched in his fist. A small electrical hum gave off before utter silence.

Gojo-senpai let out a small ‘tsk’, before wiping ash on his uniform. He didn’t bother trying to explain to his juniors. 

But Nanami considers himself to be no fool, despite his admittedly still growing experience as a Jujutsu sorcerer. Spies? Certainly a high-ranking eavesdropping technique that goes far beyond Nanami’s admittedly average sensing ability.

“Nanami. Haibara.” The icy blue of the Six Eyes regarded them with penetrating reverence, glowing pellucid with the stretch of nothingness. It made the animal-instinct inside Nanami go haywire, clamouring for an escape from a creature that is clearly above him in the food chain.

And Nanami had throttled him earlier, oh gods. His instincts whimpered. What if the other retaliate, he wouldn’t survi--

Nanami managed it, gritting his teeth as he stood to attention, especially when the other continued, “Whatever you saw that day of my brother’s techniques, keep quiet about it.”

The events of that moment flashed before Nanami’s eyes, crystal clear as if it had happened only mere moments before. The sensation of static electricity purring with atmospheric pressure was nary a forgettable experience, after all. 

“I assume you have your reasons,” he carefully said, tasting ash and receiving an agreeable hum, “And I can guess.”

If Nanami was paying proper attention to Haibara, he would have let out a chuff at the look of absolute confusion that plagued his classmate’s face. As it was, Haibara’s bewildered question resounded as the 2nd Year’s swiveled between his schoolmates with a wide eye. “Wait, Nanami, can you please explain it to me? I’m a little slow after all…” 

Nanami scowled, but it was towards himself rather than at Haibara. Ghostly sensations prickled at his nerves as he breathed out, the statement hanging between them like a guillotine. 

“Because Gojo Kakashi’s techniques weren’t based on cursed energy at all.”

Nanami stared at Gojo-senpai; the implication of it all was enough to get his heart racing, his scowl in place. No wonder the Council was having a field day trying to corner both Gojo in the corner; if a word gets out, they would do their damn hardest to either control such powerful aptitude of an innate technique (if it’s even that), or to eliminate him completely as a potential threat. 

Gojo took a deep breath, the sound so rattling that made Nanami remembered, through the haze of anger that still lingers, that Gojo-senpai may be a total piece of shit ninety percent of the time, but he’s still, against all odds, an apparent human beneath all of that cheery facade. He does cares about Kakashi, Nanami realised, and that was not a lie, much like the truth of the Universe. And this wolf in sheep’s clothing has a soft spot.

A veracity, at how one would consider Gojo Kakashi to be a weakness of the untouchable Gojo Satoru. A soft underbelly that Gojo Satoru himself had revealed into the open, a walking target. 

Kami-sama, just what had Kento gotten himself into? 

Haibara’s eyes were wide, disbelieving as he looked between the both of them. “N-not based on cursed energy? What? Gojo-senpai, that’s--” 

“I’ll tell you enough.” Gojo started, staring at his lowerclassmen with a bit of a impatient glower. “Some people are not particularly happy about Kakashi-nii being at Jujutsu Tech, as I’m sure you two have already heard. You should have; those involved in politics are not typically silent, Jujutsu-related ones especially have some of the loudest mouths I’d ever had the displeasure of associating with. Not including mine, of course.” 

Nanami recalled back the news vine that had spread like wildfire in the past few months, the gossips and whispers that seemed to permeate from every sorcerers’ mouth, despite their attempts to be quiet. But this week especially, even the teachers seemed anxious, at how some of them even stared blatantly at Nanami, whose concern at the time was more towards checking on his teammates than rebutting any ill rumors about what had happened. 

Still, that didn’t mean Nanami was completely deaf about it. 

“Hey, hey, did you heard---”

“-----decimate--First Grade, nothing---”

“----dangerous----wildcard---”

“----yeah----incident---years ago--”

“---Gojo-----hiding that---”

“---Monsters---all of them.”

Abhorrent creatures, humans are. When he first started his path as a Jujutsu sorcerer, Nanami had wondered how curses come to be.

Now he knew better. 

Gojo-senpai was waiting for a response. 

“I did.” Nanami threw, remembering the bout of cursed energy and that unknown source that swelled. At how even the Heavens lit up and answered his call, the atmosphere heavy and saddened with ash. Even now Nanami could feel the remains of pure static coursing, his nerves flaring at the prospect of absolute danger.

But the more curious thing was that Kakashi was not only able to utilise lightning, but also other elements. He remembered fire, deep and red, coursing  through the night sky to wreak havoc on withering, grotesque limbs. 

Nanami shot a look at the white-haired man, whose lips curled into a coy smirk. He knew what Gojo-senpai had referred to when he said, ‘whatever techniques’ earlier.  And the other knew that he knew as well. Once more, he hated Gojo’s ability to read people as well as he could. 

Gojo-senpai’s eyes glittered as he threw a bone at Nanami’s unvoiced question. “Much like me, Kakashi-nii is...special. His reserves of cursed energy is unlike any other I’ve seen before. To simplify things, just imagine that Kakashi-nii has an innate storage of positive energy that he could use straightway as a source, instead of having to convert it from a multiplication of cursed energy. And he’s able to manipulate it into multiple nature elements instead of just his innate one, which is lightning. And, there’s no restrictions. Technically, he’s able to use this innate energy for anything really, as long as it’s within his capability.”

What. What. Isn’t that a bit too much, and overpowered? But Gojo Satoru already exists as the epitome of that, so Nanami shouldn’t be too surprised. But he is.

A genius, it seems. A natural-born one at that, but inhibited by his physical frailty. 

“I’ve been dealing with the useless protests from those old farts.” Gojo-senpai made this rude gesture with his too long fingers. “All of em’ complaints. As if I don’t know they’re already scheming to already take advantage of everything. Can’t put a leash on The Strongest Sorcerer alive? Then, they’re trying on Kakashi-nii. He’s too unstable! He’ll be a hazard, uncontrollable! Remember the incident! He needs to be monitored! He needs to be trained! Let us send one of our lap dogs! Yada yada yada, blahblahblah. So you could say I’ve been making good use of my newly-shiny title of Head Clan to shut them down. Of course, I have to keep the other clans in check as well. They’re clamoring to get any leverage to use against the Gojo.”

Like the eavesdropper from earlier.

“So you’ve been dealing with all of these by yourself, Gojo-senpai? That’s amazing!”

“Don’t inflate his ego further, Haibara, he’ll float away otherwise. Not that it’ll be a loss.”

Gojo-senpai stuck his tongue out at Nanami’s words, before he regarded the sky and let out an unwarranted curse. “Well, it’s been fun, but I’ve been putting off going on a mission for as long as I could to deal with the fallout. Any longer and the Council is probably gonna use that as an excuse somehow.” 

“So what?” Nanami rapped a knuckle against Gojo-senpai’s Infinity, which had gone back up sometime before. It is a bit jarring to see nothing but yet being able to feel something holding you back. “You’re just going to leave your brother in our care while you go on your merry way?”

“Since you’re offering--”

“--I’m not--”

“Come onnnn, Nanamin. Pleeeeeeeasseeee? Do it as a favor for your beloved, handsome, charming senpai~” With a dramatic tilt of his head, Gojo-senpai sent a knowing look at the blonde. Or rather, his gaze flickered briefly to the bouquet that Nanami had nearly forgotten he was holding. He held back his flush. 

“Or rather, do it for Kakashi-nii. He could use a friend or two.”

Before Nanami could anything to that, Haibara jumped into the fray with a clear grin. “Of course we’ll be happy to, Gojo-senpai, you don’t need to ask! It’ll be nice to have Kakashi around, he’s quite the character, easy to get along with. I like him. And I know Nanami does as well, despite his attitude.”

Nanami spluttered.

“Good, good! And that’s why you’re my favorite kouhai, Haibara!” The upperclassman looked extremely pleased at getting his way, though he eyed Haibara briefly as if judging his reason to call his brother by his first name. “To be honest—oh don’t give me that scathing look, Nanamin – to be honest, I would prefer it if Kakashi-nii becomes a permanent addition to the Second Years after he’s cleared, rather than leaving him by himself or having him join the First Years.”

Nanami reckoned that this will be the only time that he would be able to get straight answers from the other, so he asked, “And why is that? Wouldn’t it be better to let him start from scratch, learn how to handle the ropes first?” Not that Kakashi needed it, if the way he handled the First Grade was of any indication.

A roll of the eyes. “Oh pleaseeeeee, Kakashi-nii probably knows more about Jujutsu theories and concepts than even most of the teachers here. And he’s certainly smart enough to figure out mission protocols.” Then, more subdued, he said, “And, if anything goes wrong with nii-san's reserves during a mission and he starts pinging like a curses-attraction beacon again…well, I reckon that won’t end well for the First years, with their inexperience and all. The Third years are split on higher ranking missions, so no can do. So I’d rather have you and Haibara accompanying him.”

“Is this your way of actually approving me and Haibara’s skills?” And essentially being considerate of the First Years?

“Of course, of course!” Gojo-senpai sang, and how could the man sound so cynical even when he was being honest about it? “I trust you two completely to become buddy-buddy with Kakashi-nii! Just this once, I’ll allow it.”

“…And have you asked the principle yet about this plan of yours?”

“Nope! But considering you three already get along so well, I’m sure he’ll agree!”

“But—“

“Oh, don’t be such a pusspuss, Nanami!” Haibara smacked him in the chest, wincing like he just smacked stone. “As if you’re not on board already.”

Gojo grinned at him as if he'd already won. Bastard. Did Nanami mention how much he hates Gojo-senpai’s ability to read people?

“One last thing,” Nanami grouched out.

“Hmm?”

“After all of that…why let Gojo become a Jujutsu sorcerer?”

Why did you let your beloved brother join this blood-filled, never-ending marathon?

Silence.

A quiet murmur.

“…It’s his choice.”

“…”

It was Haibara who spoke this time, and his eyes were fired with firmness. “…Then we should respect it then.”

“Wait, Haibara.” Gojo-senpai awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck when the Second Years bid him farewell so that they would visit their potential colleague. The younger saluted at him with attention. “...Have you seen Suguru lately?”

Haibara blinked. “Not since before he went on his mission to Miyazaki. I don’t think he’s back yet. Why? Are you two figh--”

“Nothing! Nothing.” There was a murmur to himself, before Gojo-senpai usual, exuberant smile was plastered to his soddy face, a knowing glimmer in his jewel eyes. “Look after Kakashi-nii for me, will ya? He can be...difficult, when he wants to.”

.

.

.

As it was, Gojo-senpai had the right sense. 

When Haibara suddenly decided that it would be a good idea to ah, how did he put it, surprise Kakashi. 

“Oh, come on.” Haibara rocked back and forth on his heels, hands behind his back. “It’s just harmless fun, that’s all. We go in, and shout “surprise!” I reckon Kakashi wouldn’t know what hit him. Twas what friends do, and ’m sure he wouldn’t expect anyone else to visit him besides Gojo-senpai. It’ll be a delight!”

And thus, it has led to this awkward three-way staring match.

Hearing the door slammed open, Kakashi, the culprit himself, stilled. Haibara and Nanami froze.

“…Oh, hello.” Rather awkwardly, Kakashi greeted them with a wave, as if he didn’t currently have one leg sticking out of the window, “I…wasn’t expecting visitors right after…Satoru…”

The foot that was still situated on the floor shifted, as if its owner was torn between going back into the room or jumping straight away outside onto a three-storeys drop below. 

Nanami hopes with whatever shred of sanity he has left that Kakashi will choose the former, lest he wants Nanami to die from the blood pressure. Already he could feel his head pounding from exhilaration.

Alright, alright, deep breaths now.

“…Gojo,” Nanami started, eyes narrowed into a glare because Haibara seemed to be still at a loss for words, big eyes blinking owlishly, “You’re not running away, are you? When you are recovering, are you?” 

Because that would be utterly and completely ridiculous--

Apparently Kakashi himself didn’t share the same opinion, because with a longing, soft glance at the trees outside (and the gentle and warm hue really does highlight his erratic white strands, tinting them with the blaze of Summer colours) he instead replied with, “Nice weather we have today.”

Oh for the love of Kanelsnegle--

“You’re supposed to be resting.”

Kakashi’s overhanging leg swung languishly as he ignored Nanami in favor of contemplating the bright cerulean sky. “Quite a sunny day. I mean, well it is Summer but-“ He gave a dramatic pause. “A perfect day for a walk.”

Nanami could already begin to feel the sense of regret from waking up today, and it has not even been five minutes yet. “But staying in bed is most beneficial especially for a patient—“ He tried, because like hell was he going to go after Kakashi in case the other did try to escape his temporary prison.  (He was totally going to have to go after Kakashi in case the other tried to escape his temporary prison because damn Gojo-senpai and his threats). 

It was apparent of Kakashi’s banter. The other hummed gently. “—Training under the Sun would do wonders for my complexion. Well, not particularly, because I have the slightest feeling that I would look like a shrimp instead--”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about all of that shit if you choose to just stay inside--”

“Sunscreen! Oh yes, I need sunscreen. But who would get my back for me--”

“Is your brain already fried, Gojo--”

“Rude, rude. Steamed would be more appropriate--” Oh now, he was listening to Nanami. 

“I--”

“That stuff you’re on must be really potent, Kakashi.” Haibara finally said, which absolutely did not help Nanami’s case, because the prospect of dealing with a person who was currently high on medication is absolutely undesirable. So why Nanami chose to not be a socially awkward grump today out of all days was a question of the ages. He was not mentally prepared at all for the enigmatic mess that apparently Gojo Kakashi was. 

There was a rather miffed sniffle from Kakashi, which made him sound like his younger brother when he wanted to be a dramatic nuisance. “I am not high, Haibara. I’m just...tired. Of being confined to this particular lump of a bed.”

Tearing his gaze away from the outside world, Kakashi winced, his eyes properly focusing on Haibara -- or rather specifically, the bandages and gauze that were wrapped neatly around the other’s injuries. There were hefty emotions in those eyes of his the longer he stared at Nanami’s classmate, something weary and indescribable. Regret? Remorse? 

Nevertheless, Nanami held back a relieved sigh when Kakashi hopped down from the window sill to trot back to his bed, his face mopey even with his usual medical mask. At least there wouldn’t be a chasing scene. 

“It’s nice to see you two again.” Once he made himself comfortable on the bed again, Kakashi said with a notably bright merriment. Despite the Second Years thwarting his attempt of escaping, he really does seem delighted to see them again. “I’m glad to see you in one piece, though I didn’t think Haibara-san would be let out so soon! How’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine! Nothing could put me down for too long you see, and these bandages are really just a hindrance at this point. They’re really itchy in the summer heat like you wouldn’t believe.”

A hefty chuckle, Kakashi’s laughter was so…something else that Nanami found himself zoning out from the conversation, basking in the melody as the exchange hummed into background noise. Until he was startled when Haibara nudged him with his foot, who then jerked his chin towards Kakashi that Nanami noticed that the silver-haired man was staring at him expectantly.

Rainy sky clouds eyes, and a certain mischief shone upon them. 

“Are those for me?” Noticing the wrapped bundle of Daffodils and Hydrangeas in Nanami’s grip, Kakashi asked with a certain coyness. 

Meeting that gaze, this time Nanami could feel the flush creeping up his neck. His fingers clutched the plastic wrap that bundled the flowers a bit tighter, his palm feeling clammy for no reasons at all.

He really did initially just bought the flowers as a simple visitation gift. Flowers carried their own distinct meanings, hidden messages. Beliefs and conveyors of emotions. Nanami didn’t care any of these things, but the florist at the flower shop certainly did plant ideas in his head.

Recalling the meanings of the flowers, Nanami hoped for the sake of his happiness that neither Kakashi and Haibara ever finds out about their significance and symbolism. Or else Nanami wouldn’t be able to live it down for the rest of his short and miserable life.

“Here.” Feeling that it would be better to just get it over with, Nanami, his eyes pointedly looking anywhere but the mirth in grey orbs, handed over the flowers to Kakashi’s waiting hands. The other looked amazed, casually thumbing over the velvety petals and admiring the fresh blossoms. He didn’t even mind the crumpled plastic.

“They’re beautiful.” Despite his initial teasing, Kakashi shot Nanami a shy smile, one that reach his eyes. The assortment of purple and yellow petals looked more appealing against his pale complexion. “Thank you, Nanami-san.”

Nanami felt like he just died from sheer mortification, but he managed a quiet, “…It’s nothing.”

When Kakashi cradled the bundle in his arms, Nanami turned to Haibara, who waggled his eyebrows. Nanami suddenly has a very bad feeling. “So what were we conversing about?”

“Oh, just catching up on some stuff that happened after I got knocked out,” Kakashi gently deposited the flowers on the bedside, sweeping away the candy wrappers with a fond look.

Haibara chirped, slinging an arm around Nanami’s shoulders, “Yeah! And I was just saying that Nanami carried you back---OWW!”

Injured or not, Haibara deserved the stomp on his foot. While the idiot was too busy yelping in pain, hopping on one leg while nursing his poor aching appendage, Nanami gracefully ignored the angry pout from Haibara, nor did he acknowledged the sight tilt of Kakashi’s head that indicated his amusement, because he knew, by instincts honed by months of being in the company of idiotic sorcerers who shared half a braincell most of the time, that if he did, he would not hear the end of it. As such, in an act of preservation, Nanami pretended to fuss over the flowers he had brought instead, hoping that the Gojo would not acknowledge Haibara’s statement. 

Of course, with Nanami being Nanami, he has no such luck. With a twinkle in his eyes, Kakashi settled back against his pillows, a deliberate drawl slurring out a, “Oh, you did?”

Nanami already missed the times when Kakashi is restrained by the uncharted politeness that came from being mere acquaintances, which was about half a week ago. Maybe then he wouldn’t be attacked on both fronts like this. The urge to sigh was increasing the more he was stuck between two mirror mischievous grins, not that he could exactly see Kakashi’s but--

He just had a feeling. Especially at the familiar air of mischief that he always associated with Gojo-senpai. 

“Oh yes he did!” Haibara chirruped as always, set fast on the track to rail what’s left of his classmate’s sanity to the ground.

“Of course I did.” Nanami returned with false poise, trying to hide the embarrassed flush that was threatening to climb to his cheeks by shrugging his shoulders so high to his neck. Damn this summer heat. “Was I supposed to leave you there? Slumping on the ground in the middle of the burning woods like a sack of potatoes?”

He glared at Haibara who wisely closed his mouth and slightly inched away in case his foot gets demolished once more. 

After setting Haibara down in a well-hidden, safe spot away from the curious eyes of the villages and him trying to call up any available Auxiliary Managers on his cell, Nanami has hurried back into the depths of the burning forest, maneuvering around patches of blazing trees and burnt shrubbery to make his way back to the old, abandoned shrine. It was significantly easier and faster to navigate through now, thanks to treks of land lying front and bare before him.

He had found Kakashi lying face prone on the blackened, brazen ground, his clothes practically smoldering from the excessive amount of cursed energy that he had released earlier. Immediately thinking of the worst case scenario and simultaneously imaging himself being slaughtered by Gojo-senpai because god-fucking-dammit, his classmate was already unconscious in a curse’s territory without a Manager around to pull him out, and now the very person Nanami was supposed to keep an eye on was lying lifeless alone in a forest. Nanami Kento could not catch a fucking break.

Except when Nanami had gingerly rolled him onto his back, Kakashi let out a cough, blinking rapidly at the night sky before focusing on Nanami’s shocked face.

“Hi,” Kakashi had said pleasantly, before he promptly passed out.

And thus, his mind now free from panic of losing any of his team members, it was only then it dawned on Nanami of their mistake. 

“We forgot to put up a curtain.” Nanami said, remembering the stern scolding that he alone has gotten because both Kakashi and Haibara were still unconscious at the time. He shot the older Gojo with a reproachful half-hearted glare. “Gojo’s… flashy method of exorcising the curse had destroyed half of the forest, and a bolt of lightning coming out from nowhere in a cloudless, calm night? Enough to almost send the entire occupants of the village into a panic, religious-driven drivel, because they thought it was the divine wrath of the deity that they were worshipping... I’ll have you know that the Auxiliary Managers have been glaring at me -- because you two were blissfully passed out during the whole fallout-- due to the amount of political cover ups and paperwork that they had to do from that incident...Don’t give me that look, Gojo.”

At the sheepish grin that he has received from Kakashi, another heavy exhale escaped Nanami’s lips. 

Just when he thought Gojo Kakashi would be a much more responsible person than his brother. 

Such a troublesome person. 

Ever the optimistic individual who only sees the light in any situation, Haibara spoke excitedly, his visible, uninjured eye shining with excitement. “Oh yeah, I heard about that! Only saw pictures of the aftermath in the newspaper, but ooohhhh, you sure are something, Kakashi! Wish I could see that in person. A flash of lightning straight from the sky? You bet I wanna see it! Think you can do it again?”

“Please don’t decimate another forest.” Nanami interjected, feeling his brow twitch at the prospect of having to kneel before another lecture. Both Kakashi and Haibara giggled at that, though Kakashi at least tried to stifle it behind a palm. Nanami tried not to think too hard at how it was practically two-against-one now, with him in the disadvantage. “At least, not when I’m around. I don’t wish to be subjected to another torture session because of your impulsiveness...again.” 

“Speaking of which! Kakashi, you’re staying with us, right? Right!?” Haibara approached the other, parking himself on the side of the bed with a wide smile. He reached out and grasped Kakashi’s hands in his own, and Nanami could only shake his head at the display of overt friendliness. 

There was a listless light in those grey eyes, though genuineness shone. Kakashi shrugged.

 “If you still would have me.” Was all Kakashi said. He observed Haibara’s visible injuries, and even from where he was standing, Nanami could decipher the swirl of emotions stirring within those stormy eyes; worry,...and fondness.  and Nanami actually felt...a pang in his chest? What? 

“Though I don’t think I’ll be much fun to hang around with—“

As quick as lightning --and Nanami found himself having to shelter a quip of his lips at the simile, Haibara practically leapt forward to grasp Kakashi’s hands in his, cupping them together. “Nawwwwww, perish the thought! We’ll be glad to have you on board, especially since it’s usually just me having a one-sided conversation with this sourpuss here.” 

“I am NOT a sourpu—“

Nanami grunted when Haibara spun and clapped him on the back good-naturedly. Honestly, the amount of energy Haibara has. “In any case, we should find a vase to put those flowers in before they wilt in this summer heat. It would be such a shame after all the effort pusspuss here took...I’LL DO IT!”

Haibara dashed out the door before neither Nanami and Kakashi could get a word in, but Nanami caught the discreet wink the other threw at him just before the door slammed close.

Damn Haibara. The urge to squirm in the ensuing silence was parable. 

“Haibara’s a good person. You’re lucky to have him as your friend.”

Startled at the sudden statement, Nanami turned around to meet steely grey. Kakashi gave him a small smile, but his eyes remained serious, his back straight. 

“Friend?” Though a bit put off at the other’s abrupt seriousness, Nanami pulled his composure, and asked. 

“He is, is he not?” Kakashi reached out to brush his fingers against violet petals, the gesture slow and light. For a second, his eyes shone with unfiltered emotions; sadness, fondness, and yearning, so intense that Nanami wondered what could have brought the man to convey such vehemence, before they flickered back to nothingness, like a frozen lake. The seconds ticked by, but Kakashi waited. 

Nanami’s initial response was to deny, but his words caught in his throat. 

Because it wouldn’t be fair. 

“Yes.” The word was stable despite his ears feeling hot, his throat dry. He was not accustomed to easily admitting such things, but he did so. 

...Yu was his very first friend. Overtly friendly, the total opposite of him, but his friend nonetheless.

Nanami would be lost without him.

Kakashi smoothened the linen of his sheets, a thoughtful hum reverberating. “I’m glad. Everyone should have a companion,” his eyes flickered up briefly to meet Nanami’s, before he returned to contemplate the linen, “Despite sometimes thinking that they don’t.”

“You sound like you speak from experience.” Nanami could not help but pointed out.

Nanami could imagine the quip of the other’s lips despite his mask, though there was nothing humorous about how the light reflected the void in his eyes. “I might be,” the other said mysteriously, and there was no further elaboration from that. 

Silence befell them once more, and Nanami shifted from one foot to the other, inwardly pleading Haibara to come back soon. What should he do? Should he grab a seat? Adjust the curtain? Or pretend to go check on his classmate just to escape this awkwardness? Damn, he really was not that great at conversing with other people.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, Kakashi continued on with, “How are you, Nanami-san?”

Such a safe, rigid and polite approach from Kakashi, but Nanami thought that they are, after all, acquaintances. More than understandable.

Eating the bait, he replied, “I’ll survive.” The blonde eyed the burn marks that littered the length of the silver-haired man’s arms. “Especially since I’m not the one who summoned lightning from the sky and destroyed nature, you know.”

Kakashi ruffled the back of his head, but Nanami knew that it was just for show, judging by his unapologetic look.

“Thank you, by the way.” 

“Hm?”

The burn of his ears were like fire, distracting, but Nanami forced himself to meet Kakashi’s wide eyes at his admission. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, before letting loose the sentences that he has been waiting to say even since the conclusion of that day. Words that he had conjured up in his frazzled mind during the hours of backtracking between the infirmary and the dormitory, waiting to be spilled out. 

“Thank you.” He repeated. “For protecting and saving Haibara. I would think that without you there…” Nanami swallowed the image that his mind had unwillingly pictured. “Then surely, the events of that night would have ended differently. You alone had tipped the scale in our favor, even when I initially thought of you as nothing more than feeble deadweight. Thus, I want to offer you my most sincere apology as well. I see now that my notion was foolish. So please, forgive my arrogance.”

He bowed, deep and steady.

“Phft.” A demure murmur. 

Then Kakashi laughed. Even after Nanami broke through his initial shock and was in the middle of glaring at a hole in his skull, the chimes of bells never stopped. Kakashi shook his head mildly. 

“Pardon me.” Kakashi finally said, wheezing out a final sore chuckle. “It’s just...you sounded so polite, Nanami-san. So unlike your usual self.”

Nanami couldn’t help but snort at that. “You’ve only known me for like a day or two.”

“Ah. That’s true. But I like to consider myself to be a good judge of character, and though our time was short, I think I get a grasp of it. Nanami-san,” A chortle, “You prefer formality when you speak, but only because you wish to avoid being too personal than needed. Not necessarily because you like doing it.”

…Damn Gojos and their ability to read people.

“No reason to be stiff, Nanami-san. And more importantly, there’s no need for any thanks. I’ve only did what I could do at the time, and even now, I feel like I could’ve done better.”

“A foolish notion,” Nanami stated, “You’d done more than enough. Why go so far to the point of almost incapacitating yourself for others?”

“Because we’re friends, aren’t we?” In earnest, Kakashi asked, tilting his head. “Despite only being on a mission once. You, Haibara and me.” He paused, and with a tinge of nervousness, reaffirmed, “Or I’d like to think so, at least.”

“...Am I wrong? Nanami-san?”

At the timid prod, Kento could not help but gave the tiniest hint of a smile; not enough to be considered a normal one by any means, just a tiny pull of the corner of his lips, but it would appear that the other had noticed, because stormy eyes widened just marginally so, before they curled lovingly into half-moon crescent, dark lashes very apparent against his mask. 

Nanami rubbed the back of his neck once more, at the soft, wispy chuckles that rang out like tinkles of bells, almost nervously glancing at back to see the mirth dancing in gentle greys, and promptly broke out a scowl to defer the attention from himself. 

“We’re not friends.” Nanami said almost brutally, almost contradictory, pretending not to see how the other immediately deflated, looking very much like a kicked puppy. 

Though his face was twisted into a slight chagrin, Kakashi tried to laugh it off, a hand at his nape. “Ouch. Though I get where you’re coming on, we do only known-”

“But,” Nanami interjected, suddenly finding interest at a spot on the wall behind Kakashi’s mopey hair.

…

...But. 

It wouldn’t exactly hurt Nanami to have another ally that he can trust his back to, would it? Especially in this line of shitty work.

“--do it for Kakashi-nii. He could use a friend or two.”

“I trust you two completely to become buddy-buddy with Kakashi-nii! Just this once, I’ll allow it.” 

Nanami Kento considers himself a realist. He preferred set, determined outcomes instead of unpredictability and instability, the latter most common in the life of Jujutsu sorcerers. He knows he is glum and straight to the point, polite but blunt when he wants to, pessimistic in his thoughts when he considers battle tactics, and careful in maintaining his daily schedule and relationships. 

These are traits that his upperclassmen, especially a certain someone, often make fun of, but Nanami mostly does not care what others think of him, opting to keep to himself. As of now, only Haibara is who he considers he was friends with, mostly because he was stuck with him. Haibara, who managed to get past Nanami’s one word grunts and sullen expressions, who’d gone along with Nanami’s weekend trips to the cafes and bookstores without a single complaint. Haibara, who trained hard to do well in a job that even he thought was horrendous. 

Haibara, who almost--

Life is unfair. Life is cruel. Uncertainties roamed around every corner like a pack of ravenous wolves, eager to tear apart a foundation of one’s life without any mercy nor remorse. 

Thus, Nanami is adamant to keep whatever peace and control that he could. 

But Gojo Kakashi was someone who very much goes against every one of Nanami’s principles. Someone who had come crashing into the literal trainwreck of a life.

But despite his usual cynicism and judgment screaming at him, to deny any blooming relationship and to keep the stranger distance between them, because deep down he knew that this path would lead them to only pain, regret and loss, Nanami was unable to deny the part of himself that was apparent intrigued, the part that simply want to learn more. 

The part that was willing to give Kakashi a chance. 

Because he admits begrudgingly; Kakashi was fascinating, a walking paradox that he knows is certain despite having only a few days experience with the man. A person who should be bitter, but he is not. He is undoubtedly strong, but he is also notedly riddled with weaknesses, his physical aptitude lower than average. How the man seems bright, but is more noticeably, looking at Exhibit A, also a colossal, self-sacrificing idiot. 

And maybe, just maybe, Nanami pities the man, who had spent most of his life locked away with a family that had ignored him, except for one excruciatingly loud and obnoxious, very overprotective younger brother. 

Honestly, how ridiculous this whole situation was. 

...But he at least owes it to Kakashi to at least try putting up with it, despite the prospect of being hounded by the higher-ups’ shenanigans and schemes in the near future. As thanks for saving Haibara. 

Nanami cursed his gentle heart, for he knows his own humanity as both a weakness and a strength. 

“But we’re friends, aren’t we?” Kakashi’s words rang through his mind like a bell, a chime that bespoke of a certain piousness that Nanami found himself curious of the continued duality of the man. The fact that Kakashi already thought of him and Haibara as his friends was rather...endearing. 

In the face of such earnestness, how could he possibly reject?

So he mumbled:

“...We can be. Because, you’re sticking around...right?”

They have time after all.

Nanami tried not to linger too much of his attention on the very bright, high-spirited smile that the other was sporting, narrow shoulders shaking with silent laughter as Nanami himself was busy bristling like an angry cat, flushing hotly beneath his collar. 

Tried not to linger too much on how the sunlight shined magnificently upon white, starlight strands. 

“Yeah,” Between chuckles, Kakashi managed. His eyes softened with the typical kindliness that Nanami has now become to associate with the older Gojo, and thought that such a sight is not too bad to be a typical occurrence.  “I guess I am.”

The sky is blue, the sunlight warm. A warm summer breeze blew from the open window, ruffling the cheerful assortment of Daffodils and Hydrangeas. 

A new wind begins. 

.

.

.

(‘Ah,’ Haibara Yu bemoaned in his thoughts, stuck right outside the door with a vase filled with water in his hands. Now he doesn’t know if he can enter or not right now, not after hearing everything and risking ruining the moment. ‘I feel like a third wheel.’)

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A few days later, Haibara and Nanami who were just on their way out from the Torii gates that guard the school entrance when a voice called out, “Wait!”

Nanami, who was lagging behind Haibara, turned around and immediately grunted when something squarish collided into his chest. 

“Here.” Unceremoniously, and without any sort of greeting, Kakashi shoved a bento box straight into Nanami’s hands, before, without any sort of explanation, proceeded to hightail it out of there with such unexpected hurry coming from someone as sluggish as him. Nanami could merely blink after the fast disappearing figure, still caught off guard. 

“Wha-”

“NII-SAN!” At the piercing holler, the 2nd Years glanced to their right, only just managing to catch a glimpse of the white blur that darted straight past them in inhuman speed, leaving a literal trail of dust and rebuffing wind, “NII-SAN, YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE RESTING! WHY ARE YOU OUT? WHY ARE YOU RUNNING?...WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘BED BUGS’?! COME BACK HERE!” 

Haibara let out an impressed whistle when the white blur, which they now were able to decipher as Gojo-senpai, in his haste to catch up to his ridiculous brother, barrelled straight through the trunk of a tree, toppling it over. “Gojo-senpai is as strong as ever.”

Ignoring the ensuing chaos between the two siblings just occurring in the horizon (Gojo-senpai continued to topple over more trees, Kakashi darting between them like a vexatious fox...and now an exasperated Yaga-sensei is shouting at the both of them), Nanami invested his attention on the plain bento box that was deposited upon him, unraveling the cloth that covered the two-tier container. He could feel the heat radiating from it, its content still warm, and whatever was inside certainly smelled delicious.  A piece of paper fell out, but he managed to grab it between two fingers before it fluttered to the ground. 

A note. Nanami felt his lips twitch as he stared almost disbelievingly at the mess that was akin to chicken scratch. Haibara shuffled over to glance over the atrocious handwriting as well, his usually polite, friendly expression adorning a slight tinge of horror, fully free from the bandages of his injuries. 

It took them both a few more minutes to figure out what exactly had been written (which by now Yaga-sensei had grabbed both Gojos by the scruff of their necks and was hauling their asses towards the infirmary building again, the younger wailing as his too-long legs dragged across the ground like a makeshift rake and the older doing his best impression of dead, limp dog); thankfully the note was somewhat short, so their eyes did not hurt too much. 

The note read: 

“I snuck into the kitchen dorm to make these. Have breakfast at least before going on missions; it’s not good otherwise.

P.S: Nanami-san, I’ve tried. You can’t hate me for trying, can you?"

How reassuring, and how did Kakashi know that they hadn’t had breakfast yet? Oh well. Haibara proceeded to gleefully snatch a rice ball, claiming an amazed “These are so good! They’re salmon-filling!” between chomps. Whatever more praises he’d conjured was swallowed between sticky rice. 

For his part, part curiosity and part hunger prompted him to flip open the second layer; they had more than enough time before their designated departure anyway, with Nanami and his usual early bird tendencies finally doing good. 

The sight that greeted him was...delicious. 

Egg sandwiches, about 6 hefty pieces wedged between. Though plain and ordinary, the filling of eggs looked thick and savory, the colour enriching and glossy. The bread slices themselves, though ordinary, 

...Not half bad. Certainly not on the same level as his favourite bakeries, but there was something inherently different about these ones. Just the fact it was practically handmade for a specific individual -- him -- in mind. 

Another bite. 

To think that such flavours exist within such simple ingredients. The filling is creamy and bursting with a rich egg yolk flavor and the bread is soft and pillowy. It is a savory, filling treat. 

Certainly, it’s delicious, Nanami thought, finishing it off in record time. Gojo is definitely great with his hands--

“It sure is hot today, huh?”

Nanami turned to Haibara with a questioning look. 

“Nanamin, my dude,” Shaking his head at him as if he was interacting with an inexperienced toddler, Haibara slung an arm over his shoulder. “My dear friend.”

He paused.

“You’re blushing.”

Finishing off the last of his rice ball, Haibara walked away, leaving Nanami to splutter alone at the gateway indignantly and in denial. 

Ridiculous. 

-x-



Author's Note:

(1) Sunflower ("Himawari,ヒマワリ) -- "himawari indicate radiance in the language of flowers, but also respect". Because of the myth of Clytie and Apollo, the sunflower most commonly means adoration and loyalty.

The sunflower’s yellow color symbolizes vitality, intelligence, and happiness. The colour yellow also traditionally symbolizes friendship. --FtD.com

Sunflowers also symbolise worship and faithfulness in various religions because of their resemblance to the sun, which is associated with spiritual knowledge and the desire to seek enlightenment and truth. Sunflowers symbolize adoration, loyalty and longevity. Much of the meaning of sunflowers stems from its namesake, the sun itself. In China, sunflower symbolism extends beyond longevity to include good fortune, vitality, intelligence and happiness. --HGTV.com, "Sunflower Meaning and Symbolism".

In Hanakotoba (花言葉), Sunflower means "I look only at you," "love," and "worship." "I look only at you" is associated with the nature of sunflowers moving in the direction of the sun. -- Hanakotoba.com

Generally, the yellow sunflower means loyalty, longevity and adoration, and as they are considered akin to the Sun, they symbolise power and authority. They can mean goodness, life-giving, truth, endurance and timelessness. 

Considering that Satoru (悟) means "Enlightenment", Satoru giving Kakashi a yellow Sunflower, while on the surface he is giving a cheerful and bright flower to cheer Kakashi up as both an act of adoration and to perceive all the good connotations of the flower to him, it can also be perceived as "pay attention to me, please look at me".

Seek enlightenment (悟) = seek / look at me, Satoru (悟) 

(2) Lily (ユリ) -- The general flower language of lilies is "pure," "innocent," and "dignified."

In Hanakotoba, a white lily means「purity（純粋）」「majesty（威厳) 」.

(4) Daffodil (スイセン) -- The daffodil symbolizes rebirth and new beginnings. It became associated with new beginnings (and the coming of spring) because it is one of the first perennials to bloom after the winter frost. Daffodil has similar uplifting meanings across cultures, probably because this bright flower appears as the cold, dark days of winter wane and the warm rays of spring appear. To the Japanese people, the daffodil means mirth and joyousness. In Hanakotoba, daffodils mean "respect", but it can also mean "unrequited love".

(5) The hydrangea (アジサイ) means gratitude, grace and beauty. It also radiates "abundance" because of the lavish number of flowers and the generous round shape. Its colours can symbolise love, harmony, and peace. The general flower language of hydrangea is "movement," "coldness," "patientity," "ruthlessness," "heartlessness," and "pride."

The flower language "movement" comes from the fact that the color of the hydrangea flower gradually changes after it begins to bloom.

The flower language of "cold" is associated with the impression of the flower color, and "patientity" is associated with the length of the flowering period of hydrangea.

According to a Japanese legend, the hydrangea became associated with heartfelt emotion, gratitude for understanding, and apology after a Japanese emperor gave them to the family of the girl, he loved to make up for neglecting her in favour of business and show how much he cared about her.

(6) Tamago Kake Gohan (Japanese-Style Rice With Egg) -- Literally rice mixed with a raw egg. It is Japanese comfort food at its simplest, consisting of cooked Japanese rice topped or mixed with raw egg and soy sauce.The rice may be cold, recently cooked or reheated; the egg may be broken directly into the rice bowl (before or after the rice), or beaten in a separate bowl beforehand. Some people dig a "well" in the mound of rice to pour the egg into. --Wikipedia. 

(7) Kanelsnegle -- "Cinnamon rolls" in Danish, and are a staple Danish pastry. The databook revealed that Nanami's maternal grandfather is Danish.

(8) The egg sandwiches Kakashi made for Nanami is called "Tamago Sando" (たまごサンド), egg salad tucked between slices of white bread, a timeless snack you can find in every convenience store in Japan. The filling is creamy and bursting with a rich egg yolk flavor and the bread is soft and pillowy. Some claim it’s the best egg sandwich they ever tasted. --justonecookbook.com

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“I trust you two completely to become buddy-buddy with Kakashi-nii! Just this once, I’ll allow it.” -Gojo. Man, Gojo will one day regret those words. 

EFF, JUJUTSU KAISEN 0 THE MOVIE IS COMING OUT SOON, I WANT TO WATCH, AHHHHHHHH~

Quite interestingly, there is no specific reason when I decided to write 25th of June specifically as Gojo Kakashi's birthday (as mentioned in chapter 2), other than me randomly picking which month has thunderstorms in them, so yeah the date is random. 

But afterwards, I stumbled upon this Japanese website (hanakomon) that depicts your "flower crest" and meaning of your birthday:

What is a flower crest?

The flower crest is a crest that represents "the day".
366 days a year, including February 29th, which is only in a leap year once every four years.
It is a birthday symbol that represents the flowers of the four seasons as a "mon".

A flower crest that was born as a "sign" to celebrate "the day" one by one a day.
It is said that "flowers open, luck opens. Fruits bear fruit," and patterns with flowers as a motif have long been popular as "signs of auspicious signs."

So out of curiosity, I looked up the dates. 

25th June - Parrot Flower, Individual Language -"Existence"

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Wildfire, Spread Where The Wind Goes

The dirty water went down the drain with a muted guggle, and Megumi wiped his hands at the cloth hanging by the sink, depositing the clean bowl on the drying rack with a small huff. He shut off the tap, and walked over to his bed, untouched yet by his nightly schedule. He grabbed one of the open books laid on his study table, intending to finish off the last few pages before drifting off to dreamland. 

But he was nary able to scratch a sentence, and the itch of persisting emptiness and restlessness stayed throughout all of the ten minutes he spent laying on his bedcover before he gave up. He stared at the ticking clock on the wall, the hands moving sluggishly as if time itself was fighting against the molasses of reality. 

It was a quiet evening. 

Yet, his nerves felt jittery. Though he knew he should already be asleep for the event that was due tomorrow morning. Usually, the quiet, the peace, he savoured greatly, but just a few weeks of rambunctious liveliness from the room right next door, has managed to shift his appreciation for quietness to one of antsy, prickly incommodiousness. 

Megumi, concluding that the night would be long, sat up in annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose. What a drag, he thought, that he wanted to turn in early, because tomorrow would undoubtedly be a very long and tiring day, but his mind was astoundingly awake, churning with everything yet nothing at all.

Company with the silence, once sought after, became a liable burden to both his conscious and mind. 

Thus, when a knock was upon his front dorm door, Megumi looked over, startled, but intrigued. Swinging his legs over to the entrance, he swung it partly, peering through.

“...Kakashi-san?”

The man gave him a small wave, and a nod of the head. His hair was as unruly as ever, white strands of hair that went in waves over his shoulders, pooling at the cress of his dark undershirt. 

“Yo, Megumi-kun.” Kakashi-san greeted him with the customary curls of his eyes. With his wrinkled night shirt and frazzled hair, he looked like he just crawled out from bed. The white medical mask was still plastered to his face though, a familiar trait that belonged to the enigmatic sorcerer. “Long time no see.”

“I heard you a few days ago when you and Gojo-sensei burned down a portion of the forest…” was the deadpanned retort, but Megumi glanced a rundown at Kakashi just in case that the man has decided to involve Megumi as an impromptu getaway from the infirmary, again . It’s been far too many occasions for Megumi not to be wary, especially since Ieiri-san and Gojo-sensei (out of all people) would reprimand Megumi, despite the teenager’s obvious disinvolvement of it. 

Kakashi-san appears to be fine, though his haggardly appearance would suggest otherwise. Still, for all the years that Megumi has known Gojo-sensei’s older brother, he has always looked like a wet dog who had just woken up.

Thus, Kakashi-san is fine, and is absolutely not running away from any medical treatment. Probably.

“What brings you here?” Megumi asked, fully opening the door. 

The man brought up a plastic bag, the wrap fogged up by the heat and condensation. Whatever it was, the smell was heavenly, and Megumi could even make out the unmistaken spice of ginger. “I’ve brought you dinner.”

“I already ate.”

His stomach unwittingly growled at the prospect of a more fulfilling, much more delicious dinner. Megumi glared down at his stomach, appalled at his own body’s betrayal. Was the bowl of instant noodle not enough to satiate you, you ungrateful flesh? 

Kakashi-san laughed again, the sound echoing in the too silent, empty halls. Megumi ignored the heat on his ears, his mouth pulled into what was definitely not a slightest shade of a pout. He gave way for Kakashi to slouch his way inside, the man grabbing Megumi’s only bowl on his way to set the container on Megumi’s desk. In practise ease, he poured out the content, and immediately the delicious smell wafted throughout the bedroom. 

The man sometimes does this when Megumi doesn't want to bother being at the brunt of Satoru’s jovial company and attention for his own twisted amusement, slinking away even with an empty stomach and a heavy scowl. 

Kakashi-san was, surprisingly, due to his notoriety of being Gojo-sensei’s pampering enabler, understanding of Megumi’s avoidance and often brought over whatever leftover he could. ‘You need to grow,’ Kakashi-san often gave the excuse, while waving over whatever food he had managed to make that day. Considering that someone has to be an absolute fool to reject any of Kakashi-san’s handmade dishes though, Megumi just accepts it.

Plus, hey, free food. (And Megumi was definitely not drooling. And not looking forward at all to the meal)

It took a while for Megumi to notice, despite his growling stomach, that he was just staring at the hotpot, in particular the ingredients: meat-rolls, shiitake mushrooms, capa cabbage, green onions, meatballs…-

“Something on your mind?”

Megumi turned to Kakashi-san, who had just finished smoothing the edge of Megumi’s blanket. He sat on it, turning a knowing, expectant gaze upon the teenager. Against his will, Megumi fidgeted a bit, focusing his sight upon the prepared meal, hoping to escape the enquiry that he knows is coming.

Megumi tried to defer. “It’s nothing. I’m just…preparing myself for tomorrow.”

There was a low hum, but his second faux guardian continued to stare at him with a certain calmness and patience typically reserved for a kid. Or Gojo-sensei. No difference anyhow.

Megumi gave in. He can’t hide anything from the two Gojo afterall. If anything, a tiny part of him was glad it was the older sibling and not Gojo-sensei, who undoubtedly will go on an endless tangent of honey-coated words aimed as a roundabout way of consoling him. “...We’ve lost someone recently. A First-Year.” He paused, swallowing, “I don’t think you’d met him.”

Kakashi turned completely to face him, the visible expression of his covered face grave and concerned. Megumi had to look away this time; too much. 

“...I see. I’m sorry to hear that.” Kakashi said, his tone more demure, softer. “...Will you tell me about him?”

Was there a reason to? Itadori was…he was gone, after all. What was the use of talking about a dead person?

But Megumi wanted to. For some reason. Of that boy he has accidentally met during a crucial mission in Sendai, who has the fucking audacity to swallow a Special Grade object–

“He was kind of an idiot, actually,” Megumi started with furrowed eyebrows, before stressing, “No, he was definitely an idiot. The biggest idiot I’ve ever seen and met.”

Kakashi-san patiently waited. 

“...But he was a moron with a heart of gold,” The fire in his heart stroked deeply, ashes and smoke clogging his throat. Megumi swallowed. “A good person…”

“Itadori definitely should not have become a sorcerer.” The heartfelt sentiment hung between the two, and Megumi found himself suffocating in the silence, an amalgamation of regrets and sadness balling inside his heart for he was to continue on tomorrow while a person, while Itadori Yuuji, the kindest person he had known, an individual who was better than Megumi in every way, was buried in the ground, if the higher-ups would even allow that. From the few personal interactions he had had with them, along with Gojo-sensei’s personal, colourful opinions of them, he wouldn’t be surprised if Itadori’s remains were being used somehow.

“It was a mistake, honestly.” The admission slipped from his mouth as easily as dew upon a leaf, but shame started to build in his cheeks afterwards. Who was he to judge Itadori’s sacrifice?

Even if–

Even if, deep down, Megumi was downright angry .

At Itadori (for willingly dying). At himself (for still being weak). At the fucking whoever thought it was a good idea to send First Years to exorcise a potential Special Grade (Shadows, shadows with malicious human intentions, something that even he, a sorcerer with natural shadows-based technique, finds revolting). 

“Megumi-kun.” The call of his name brought his chin up; gunmetal blue met stormy grey in objectivity. “Did you regret becoming friends with…Itadori-kun?”

What? Megumi was so surprised that he turned to give Kakashi a wide-eyed glower. 

“Itadori-kun came to Jujutsu Tech, came to learn the existence of curses and Jujutsu because of you, Megumi.” Kakashi stated, seemingly unaware of how Megumi’s heart was beating hard in his throat, “Would you call befriending him a mistake as well? Just so he would manage to carry on with whatever life he had had back then?”

His mouth gaped open, closing, as his mind churned the words over and over, forcing him to reach a conclusion that though his rationality deemed was wrong, it was one that Megumi’s true, self-seeking feelings rang true.

…No. 

No, Megumi does not think he ever regretted meeting Itadori on that fateful night. 

With that in mind, Megumi finally was able to look Kakashi straight in the eyes. 

The man looked…guilty as he considered Megumi once more. “I’m sorry, Megumi.” Kakashi-san heaved a sigh, running a hand through his tousled hair, a shred of honesty lacing his words as he spoke, “I don’t mean to rile you like that…But, I..I…” Silence wrenched itself between them; Kakashi-san’s gaze was burning holes in Megumi’s comforter, yet Megumi knew better to break the sudden loss in thoughts on the man’s part. 

The thing is, Megumi was accustomed to the older Gojo’s abrupt escapes from reality over the years he had known the man, those events depicting the carefully crafted veil that masked the man’s even expressive eyes frosting over with a certain vulnerability, hazy with untold emotions. It was akin to longing and regret. Shame. 

It was reminiscent of that first encounter with his Divine Dogs, where Kakashi-san cried, unknowingly even to himself. His grief was so potent that Megumi could remember his anguish even now, the searing cursed energy burning brightly with its intensity enough to even rival Gojo-sensei’s natural presence.

Gojo-sensei’s explanation afterwards when Megumi had confronted him with a questioning prompt, was delivered with a bitter smile that told of the man’s genuine fidelity. For once, he did not belittle or mock little Megumi for his concern, and his otherworldly blue orbs shone with its own, deep pools of tiredness. 

Megumi wondered silently, at the back of his mind, of Gojo-sensei's own, silent burdens that he never said out loud. 

“You know those moments where we sometimes venture too deep in our own thoughts that you accidentally forget your surroundings? Just think of it like that.” The younger Gojo had said, his tone deceptively light. “Well, in my brother’s case, he got too deep in his…memories.”

“Memories…?” Megumi remembered that young him had repeated the word with a tilt of his head, clearly wanting more of a clarification. Though he knew it was already an acceptable sort-of an explanation. Kakashi-san had looked so forlorn when he had interacted with the wolves, like he had remembered that he had lost something important. 

Just like Tsumiki had looked sometimes, when she thought that Megumi wasn’t looking, as she prepared meals in the small kitchen that they had. It doesn't take much for Megumi to guess that she very much misses their absent parents. That same distant focus as she reminiscenced happier times. 

Younger Gojo-sensei had tried to hide his grimace with a nonchalant shrug, though his eyebrows were furrowed too deeply to have pulled off that particular facade. Still, little Megumi marvelled at the…genuine human actions. Not that he thought that the Gojo wasn’t entirely human…it was that he thought that the teen was too obnoxious to be a regular , functioning human. 

A sigh escaped from the teen’s lips. Gojo-san ran a hand through his bird’s nest of a hairstyle, plucking away his sunglasses.

“Yes, memories. Some happy, most sad. All lost.” He reaffirmed cryptically, and something must have shown on Megumi’s face despite his attempts not to, because with a wistful stretch of his mouth and the sudden, powerful blaze of his eyes, Gojo-san said, to little Megumi:

“Don’t be too worried, Megumin. We just have to make new ones with him, yeah?”

When Kakashi-nii has one of his…moments, it’s best to let him sort it out first. If it exceeds ten minutes, call me, or text me, whichever one , Gojo-sensei’s instruction rang in his mind as he fished for his cellphone as discreetly as he could while keeping an eye on the slumped form. 

Were these whatever bouts of breaks in reality related to Kakashi’s ailment? Gojo-sensei said that he used to be seriously sick, though he never explained it properly. Just to keep an eye out.

Much to Megumi’s relief, Kakashi appears to have snapped out of his daze. There was a slow, deliberate blink, and a heavy, measured exhale of air. That grey gaze refocused on the silent teenager, and it took more than a hefty second before he said something, lines of worry etched visible at the creases of his lids. 

“We’re allowed to be selfish, once in a while, don’t you think?” 

The statement came across more like a self-admission, one that even Kakashi himself appears unsure of, rather than advice thrown to Megumi. The dark-haired sorcerer bit back a remark at this thought, choosing to ponder over it instead. 

“His last words to me was,” Megumi’s sight found refuge on the floor. “Live long…will ya?”

“Then you’ll live on.” The clock ticked. “To the best of your ability. Or you may give up. The choices between these two, the fact that you’re able to choose…they’re thanks to Itadori, aren’t they?” Kakashi got up, as graceful as he could look while clad in nightwear. “Don’t blame yourself, Megumi. Or you might as well blame me. Or Satoru. Or even your other teammate, Nobara.” Kakashi laid a hand on Megumi’s shoulder, a reassurance of some kind. “At that moment, it was his choice.”

It was Itadori’s choice.

…

Stupid Itadori. 

“I’m sorry to bother you with all of this.” Megumi said, swallowing. 

Kakashi waved a hand dismissively. “No, no.” He said, and reached out to ruffle Megumi’s hair. By this point, it was such a customary gesture from the man that Megumi merely accepted it without much fuss. He deciphered that it was just one of the man’s ways of showing affection to him. “I am…honestly relieved. That you did. You tend to keep to yourself a lot, so…” 

Megumi tilted his head, trying to hide his reddened cheeks in the collar of his shirt. Kakashi-san noticed this and his kind eyes curved in light carefreeness. He changed the topic, deeming to give the teenager some respite.

“How’s Tsumiki-chan by the way?” 

“She’s fine.” Megumi said, grateful for the change in topic. “Said something about having to suffer through extra summer lessons the last time I called her.”

“A hardworking girl, that one.” Kakashi shook his head in fondness. “We should visit her when summer break comes.”

Kakashi-san asked him a few more simple questions - How was training with the others? (“Fine, Maki-san was having fun whacking me with her spear each time.”), Have you eaten well when I was away? (here, Megumi had a slight guilty look, remembering the packs of ramen he had consumed from the recently busy schedule of missions and training), and–

“My taijutsu is improving well, I think.” Megumi said, a hint of pride in his tone despite his attempt to downplay it. It took a lot of beating from Maki and Panda to drill some manoeuvres into his muscles, but it was worth it.

“Really?” Kakashi replied with twinkling eyes, “I guess I have to gauge it myself then next time we train.”

The teenager leaned forward with a sort of eagerness, “You said the last time if I manage to strike you on the shoulder, you’ll teach me a new technique.”

Kakashi dipped his head. “I did say that, didn’t I? We’ll see.” 

At the end of it, there was a serene, satisfied expression. Kakashi-san nodded, got up and stretched languidly before looking at the clock. “It’s late already. You should sleep.”

Megumi murmured something about tasting the hot spot first, which made the pale-haired man smile. He tousled Megumi’s hair even more, making it even more haphazard, before seeing himself out of the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Megumi.”

That admission admittedly, made even the sullen Megumi perk up as he followed Kakashi to the entrance. “You’re taking part?” To be honest, Megumi would rather prefer it if Kakashi was there, because Gojo-sensei was marginally much more tolerable when his older brother was around, even if the man’s…overbearing protectiveness was too much sometimes. Well, most of the time really, but his protectiveness was better than his annoyingness. 

The man threw him a weird wink that made his other eye widen instead. “Just handling the medical box, a very important role. Though you’re the first one to know~” 

Megumi merely grunted in response; as conversational as ever. He had already used his social quota for the night, thank you very much. And he just wants to eat now.

Kakashi-san gave a committal little hum, and something glinted in his grey eyes; like a mirage in the distant horizon. Sometimes Megumi wonders if the man even knows how expressive his eyes were, displaying emotions that his mask otherwise covers. “And who knows; the ripple that you thought was gone, might echo back to shore one day.” 

Before Megumi could ask anything about what he meant, the man disappeared; as silent as he came, nary a presence in this bleak reality. Megumi merely shook his head, sighing at the expected behaviour, before closing the door and going back to finish his hot pot. 

How strange. While certainly delicious, these meatballs also taste awfully familiar. 

-x-

The next morning, after a breakfast that consisted of too sugary pancakes at Satoru’s request (demand) and simple egg rolls, Kakashi spent some time cleaning up the aftermath of Satoru and Yuuji’s movie marathon the evening before, an activity that was again, proposed by his younger brother, an attempt Kakashi thought, was aimed at calming Yuuji down because the boy was a ball of jittery energy and nerves. They spent the rest of the night in the living room, Satoru setting up the laptop and asking Yuuji where he had stopped in his movie list. The boy seemed reluctant at first, maybe thinking that he was intruding, but after a nudge from Kakashi, who discreetly said that he was in the mood for something silly, the boy hunkered down alongside Satoru to filter through the humongous movie folder. 

Despite his initial intention to watch over the two, Kakashi admittedly, had nodded off sometime during the third or fourth movie. He must have not recovered as much as he thought, because soon he slumped over the armchair, the droning of the protagonists laying exposition murmuring over his swaying consciousness as he tethered onto the edge of sleep. 

When he woke up, there was his usual blanket covering him; Satoru lay curled up at his feet, his knees poking straight into Kakashi’s sides as he snored away at the other end of the couch, still asleep. Kakashi gently pushed away his brother’s stupidly long legs from his neck, and sat up, blinking away the remnant of drowsiness. The sunlight was just barely streaming through the shut curtains, illuminating the strewn of pillows and empty snack containers left on the floor. Catching a glimpse of strawberry-coloured hair partially hidden behind a comforter; Yuuji contentedly drooled on one of Kakashi’s deco cushions that he was also hugging for dear life, a foot propped against the half-closed laptop. At least the two didn’t stay up all night.

Still, he let the two sleep just a little longer, draping his blanket over Satoru instead and grabbing the laptop from under Yuuji’s foot so the boy would at least lie properly on his back. He retreated to the kitchen, wanting to make a cup of steaming hot coffee for himself, but he could not help but smile softly at the image of the two human puppies just lying sprawled in his living room, their countenances peaceful from worldly worries. 

The improtou sleepover was not only good for Yuuji, but also Satoru; he roughly tousled his brother’s bedhair hair, receiving a disgruntled, sleepy grumble. If Kakashi wants to make good on his promise to Yuuji last night, then he is going to have to invest in more sleeping bags and pillows. There was another guest room at the back, usually reserved for Megumi when he’s too tired from training to limp back to his dorm room, but nary a spacious, comfortable place to put three rowdy teenagers in the future. 

Of course, Satoru was the first to wake up from Kakashi’s attempt of brewing; he rolled over from the couch to land onto the floor with a dull thud with none of his usual grace, a discontented grumble audible from where he lay. Abruptly, he sat up rim rod straight, blinking blearily, his mouth pulled into a ridiculous pout as he turned to give Kakashi a half-dazed, slight glare ruined completely by how utterly drowsy he still was.

Kakashi was just about to ask him for breakfast assistance, when Satoru slinked over with multiple stumbles, muttering something under his breath, and completely ruined Kakashi’s faith in having a helping hand by wrapping his long limbs around Kakashi’s torso, going back to his natural roots of being the human equivalent of a limpet. 

“Right, thanks for the help.” Kakashi pretended to huff through the pure dead weight hanging on him, stirring his fresh cup of coffee. He lifted up an arm to sip the goody black liquid of caffeine, revelling at the bitterness, a feat barely managed through Satoru’s bear hug. 

“Mmhh…Pancakes…” His younger brother half demanded, half slurred, tightening his hold. Clearly Satoru has had every intention of going back to sleep while hanging on to Kakashi. 

His initial reaction was to wake up his adorable little sibling with a light (lightning-infused) tap on his cheek (which was unfortunately not as chubby and soft as they used to be, a terrible loss upon mankind), but the more Kakashi contemplate the Satoru’s light snoring as he ventured back to snoozeland, and the slight trembles of his long lashes when he breathed out, the former Hatake found his mischief fading away, replaced by self-contempt.

It’s been a while since he has seen Satoru sleeping this peacefully. 

Sleep does not come easily to Satoru, this he knew, as much as Kakashi knows how much his own dreams are a perpetual nightmare. His headaches were a constant thing, if they weren’t full front scrambling his brother’s mind to a throbbing mush, then it hangs heavily at the back, ready to become a bother each time Satoru takes off his blindfold to fully make use of the processing power of the Six Eyes. 

Su….su….

Kakashi patted his sleeping brother gently on the head, gazing at the lighter strands that sprawled over his shoulder where Satoru had tucked his face into. 

The Six Eyes was a curious little thing. While Kakashi has had his own experiences dealing with the numerous, dangerous bloodlines that had been bestowed to the strewn of clans during his bygone era, there was something…distinctly familiar with the distant azure glow, the brimming power that held within. 

The perceptiveness of the Six Eyes was nothing to scoff at, for it could rival even that of a fully mature Sharingan. The user of the Six Eyes is able to see the flow of cursed energy, which in turn allows them to read another person's cursed techniques as well. The Six Eyes have the drawing distance to rival that of the Byakugan, the former being able to see to a scope of 14 kilometres with high definition. Give or take, abilities evolved, and some degraded.

Satoru even mentioned to him that he could even see and manipulate the sophisticated powers of Limitless powers down to an atomic level. The level of perception and immense brain processing power for such an absurd thing…

…It reminded him of the unbridled, pure ocular power of the Rinnegan. 

He almost dropped his spoon to the floor, managing to catch it at the very last second after slinging Satoru to his other side.

Perhaps it was the amalgamation of all of the eye bloodlines. Given all those times he had missed and jumped over, it was horrifyingly possible, even with low odds, that the unification of the bloodlines. But for fate to have spurned such a thing…

The burden of having such a sole power. The burden of holding the literal balance of the world upon one’s hand.

And Satoru’s endless worry for Kakashi was another cause for his sleepless nights, not that Satoru has ever audibly voiced that. His skylit eyes have never harbour any ill when he fret silently behind his loud outbursts, distractions that he knew were for Kakashi’s benefit. Not only him, but Megumi sometimes too, and the boy already has enough on his plate.

For the life of him, Kakashi could not figure out how in his past life, what he had done to deserve a blessing such as Satoru. Not just him really, but the others – Megumi, Tsumiki, Mai, Nanami, Haibara, Shoko, Yuuji.

To still be granted a chance to be surrounded by new comrades, cherished people, even after he had failed, abandoned, lost, all of his previous ones. 

Guilt was constant. Regret even more so, burrowed deeply into his bones.

I’m sorry. I’m trying so hard but… For you to shoulder the burden of the world, and the grievances of mine.

Sometimes, I still get so caught up in the past, mixing them together with the present. 

He stifled a cough. 

As if sensing his distress, one of Satoru’s eyes cracked open, an icy blue that peered straight at Kakashi’s helpless smile.

“Mmrh?” Satoru grounched unhappily with a question. 

Kakashi patted his cheek in reassurance, shifting his stance so Satoru could lean more comfortably against him. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up when the pancakes are done.”

.

.

.

“You’re late. It’s ten minutes past our agreed meeting time.” There was a dissatisfied tut that came from the 7:3 sorcerer as he crossed his arms in his usual typical stoic manner. There was an apparent glare at the three sorcerers dawdling at the entrance to the lounge, the same one that they’d rendezvous with last night.

Kakashi looked away, definitely not out of guilt. Just the general feeling of disappointing the Adult of Adults was almost enough to bring shame to his cheeks. Almost. He's unrepentant enough to repeat his chronic lateness. 

“I had to manage two kids, you know.” Kakashi gave the excuse. Nanami looked at him, at Satoru hulking over Kakashi’s shoulder, and it dissolved purely into an expression of sardonic pity. 

“Morning, Nanamin!” Yuuji leapt forward from where he was blocked by Satoru’s bigger stature. His smile was wide and happy as he addressed the older sorcerer brightly. “Man, you should have stayed, dinner and breakfast was awesome! Not to mention we had a movie marathon!”

Nanami stared at Satoru most disapprovingly, though there was a quick, slight upturn of his lips when he looked at the strawberry-haired teenager. “So you’re tardy because you let Itadori-kun stay up all night watching films, even when he is supposed to be alert and ready for the commemoration of the Sister event?”

Satoru was undoubtedly unapologetic given his next words. “Yeah, Nanamin~ We were watching comedy movies, something that you , sour puss-puss, could stand to learn something from, given your dry humour. Though with your sour blocky ass, you're only fitted to be the straight man.”

“I will punch you.”

“See?! You're already getting the hang—- Aiyeeeeeee—--~”

Kakashi was content to stay out of the line of fire for the time’s being, opting to comb through the piles of magazines that were arranged neatly on the magazine racks. Good thing there was a lot of variety, though none of the romancey, gossiping ones. Shame.

He picked a cooking one, ignoring the background noise of something hard reverberating the walls and the very dramatic shrieks of one tall idiot. 

Nanami, after getting tired of dealing with Satoru’s shenanigans in the morning, proceeded to ignore the flailing man and turned to Yuuji. He straightened his tie, which got mussed during his attempts to smack Satoru into the wall. “At least you’re in a better mood than before, Itadori-kun.”

The teenager rocked on his heels, looking quite sheepish. “...Yeah, I guess I am.” His mouth split into a wide beam, full of exuberance and sunshine. “I’m sorry to make you worry about me, Nanamin. ”

Nanami sighed at the label, but otherwise resigned to the fact that Yuuji was going to stick to Satoru’s accursed nickname for him. “Don’t apologise, having emotions like that prove that you’re still human after all. And…to hold onto that, is most important when you’re a sorcerer.”

“Human huh?” Yuuji’s smile turned reflective. “You know, you’re the second one who told me that.”

“Oh?” Nanami observed him carefully, and at the bright light still shining in his warm eyes, his demeanour softened. He continued gently, almost under his breath. “I think I can guess who’s the first.”

“Yeah, me!” Something long snaked itself around Nanami’s shoulder, and Satoru pretended to have to physically dodge a jab to the face by one pissed-off former salaryman. 

Nanami tried to regain his composure when he addressed the gawking but amused Yuuji, “Well, in any case, it’s about time for you to have to meet up. Are you prepared?”

Yuuji was practically vibrating from the anticipation and excitement. “Yeah! I honestly can’t wait to see Fushiguro and Kugisaki again! And I’ll finally get to see my seniors! And the Kyoto school!” 

“Whoa whoa whoa, hold up!” Satoru intervened loudly with an exaggerated motion of his arm. “So, what? Yuuji is just going to walk right into the event, just like that? That’s boring! You’re boring, Nanamin! Don’t teach Yuuji how to be dull like you!”

The walls have already had enough damage, Nanami’s psych, however, continued to suffer. Still, the man indulged, “Itadori-kun has been proclaimed dead for almost two months, so–”

“Exactly so!” Satoru argued, “Showing up out of the blue after being dead, of course the only right thing to do is to surprise them!”

Nanami muttered, “Being alive is surprising enough, you know.”

Satoru was keen on having his way, and he knew how to get it. “Why don’t we just ask the boy himself then!”

“Ne, ne, Yuuji~” Kakashi could hear the grin in Satoru’s tone. “You don’t want your touching reunion to be a dull one, right?!”

Yuuji squirmed beneath two sets of eyes looking at him expectantly, trying to get the third one’s attention for help but when it became apparent that Kakashi was only burying his face closer to the magazine that he was holding, the movement almost deliberate, ultimately, with a bashful grin at Nanami, he raised his hand up like a school student and mumbled, “....Gojo-sensei’s plan sounds like fun.”

“Great, great! Now listen to my wisdom, my dear student!” The younger Gojo clapped his hands over Nanami shaking his head ruefully, but the latter conceded the win to Satoru, leaving the pair to huddle close together as they whispered conspiratorially. 

Looking over, Kakashi watched in amusement as his brother and his student did their best impressions of wriggling squids on lands attempting to communicate with each other with whatever working synapses they have left. 

“—And you’re sure that this will dazzle Fushigoro and Kugisaki, Gojo-sensei?!”

“Of course, of course!” The cackle that came from Satoru was borderline maniacal. “Would your sensei lie to you about anything?”

“Well, there was that one time you—“

Satoru immediately waved it off, sticking out his tongue in a bout of childish conduct and mock distaste. “Pergh! Water under the bridge and all of that! We've gotta live in the present, Yuuji! We’ll deal with the past when it becomes a problem and come to bite us in the ass!”

“I don’t think that’s a good life lesson though…” Yuuji muttered too loudly to be for himself, but on the contrary, he was having a grand time messing about with Satoru. The two chattered and giggled like a pair of high school girls, conspiring clearly with conspicuous methods on how to reintroduce the strawberry-haired boy back to his yearmates, each idea much more ridiculous than the last. 

Kakashi was leafing through a pastry magazine when the sensible idea of maybe stopping Satoru’s shenanigan was ideal to let Yuuji not be immediately executed on the spot in the foreseeable future.  With that, he rolled up the magazine, before whacking the backside of his brother’s thick skull. 

“Now, now Satoru, contain yourself. Don’t go overboard when it’s Yuuji-kun’s reunion with his classmates after so long. We don’t want him to get into any more trouble than he’s already in, do we?” 

Satoru doesn’t appear to be deterred. In fact, he looked even more excited, eyes positively alit with mischief. “So something simple should be fine, right?!” He asked, and from his tone, Kakashi knows that whatever answer he gives, Satoru would just ignore it in favour of his own. 

So Kakashi just shrugged, and Satoru gave a loud whoop, before turning on his heels and making a beeline straight towards one of the staff rooms. He could already hear Ijiichi shrieking in panic and surprise from forced involvement. 

When he got back with a cheshire grin, he brought along with him an industrial cart, and a box big enough to hide one strawberry-haired teenager. 

At least it was something simple to the point of incredulity, yet a hint of exasperation shone through his carefully placated expression as Yuuji got into the box as a would be shock for his yearmates. Surprise! Here’s your dearly departed friend, Itadori Yuuji! Yeah, that’d go over well. 

Satoru did an impressive little twirl considering he was not only lugging a cart, but also a grown, heavily massed teenager. “Al-right~ Now we’re ready to see everyone!”

Yuuji peeked his head out from the box on the trolley, a tuft of his hair wedged between the flaps. “Is Kakashi-san coming as well?” He asked, his expression hopeful and reminiscent of a puppy. Kakashi could sense Satoru’s impatience to load and go into the horizon, so he gave a little wave to the teenager. 

“I will later, Yuuji-kun,” He said, and both Satoru and Yuuji cheered almost immediately in sync; the latter ducking his strawberry-coloured hair back beneath the box covers. 

WIth loud titters and giggles, they rushed off, leaving behind a literal trail of dust into the distance as Satoru pushed the trolley with the speed of a F1 race car. Maybe Kakashi shouldn’t have fed his brother that much sugar in the morning. Eh, it’s someone else’s problem now. 

“Not going to stick around for the event, Kento?” The silver-haired man glanced at the other sorcerer, who had come back through the door with a plastic bag held up around a wrist. He has apparently left sometime during Satoru and Yuuji’s enthusiastic chatters regarding their surprise with a twitchy brow that betrayed his annoyance to the duo’s squawking disturbances, giving his acknowledgement to Yuuji with a slight nod that was return with a cheerful hollering of “Take care, Nanamin!”

“I would rather not get involved in too much Jujutsu shit, mind you.” Nanami said in brutal honesty, and Kakashi could not help but laugh at it. Others may be put off by the man’s acidic tongue, but the Gojo did not mind at all frankly; front-faced words are much more preferable and refreshing than Kakashi’s usual dances with lies and shadowy deceits. And Nanami’s brutal words were not with misplaced malice, more often than not that it was just the man’s wayward way of showing concern and worry. 

His abrupt chuckle appeared to not make a dent in the man’s composure, but as the man neared him, Kakashi could tell that there was a pull on the corner of his lips, a sign that the blonde was trying not to smile. 

“Besides,” Nanami continued, his voice turning gentler than one could have expected coming from him, as he noticed Kakashi’s gaze lingering upon him, “I’m relatively sore. Quite admittedly, the last mission was quite a pain to do. I’m looking forward to some downtime.”

That caught Kakashi’s attention. “Sore? Want a massage then?” The Gojo asked in a teasing manner, wiggling his fingers in fast, exuberance motions. Nanami shook his head with something akin to amusement and exasperation, and Kakashi could hear him mumbling about, ‘bad influence’ or something. 

“I would absolutely love one,” Nanami then replied after a short pause, and Kakashi almost choked on himself, feeling that certain hotness to his cheeks returning, “But I reckon that this is just one of your jest, and not one of your honest offers.” The man continued without any heat, merely stating a fact.

Kakashi smiled apologetically, neither confirming nor denying. 

Civil banter was something that he used to engage with his subordinates sometimes, the more friendly and outgoing interactions reserved for those who are close to him, like Tenzou and Gai. His words twisted and deflected between faux friendliness and safe, strict professionalism aimed towards keeping others away. It became like a habitual instinct to not only protect others, but also himself.

Thus, when Kakashi gave into his impulse, it was a surprise to him as well. 

“Walk with me?” He requested in a relaxed, light tone even as he tried to ignore the absolute fuckery his heart was doing. “I need to run some errands with Shoko before I have to join Satoru and the others.”

Although he wanted to pat himself on the back for a job well-done at sounding calm, inwardly, he also wanted to curl into a ball and wither away. 

Alright, stay calm, Nanami was a busy man who seldom have the day off, surely he has other, better things to do than–

Nanami raised an eyebrow, but nevertheless, followed Kakashi outside to the roofed walkway, the rustling of his bag making Kakashi ever the more curious of its contents. “Certainly, but you’re joining in as well?” 

Kakashi has missed last year’s event due to being sent out on a mission – not that he would be able to go along with the students to Kyoto anyway, he was not a teacher, but he heard that it was spectacularly one-sided thanks to his off-distant cousin, cutting the school trip very short.  

Kakashi has known about that endeavour because Satoru has, of course, complained very verbally about it through a phone call when Kakashi was at the time busy chasing down a stray curse, saying that he wanted to enjoy the sight (and food) of Kyoto more. Satoru then, afterwards, in a very Gojo-Satoru-fashion, proceeded to overstay another week, much to the dismay of one Iori Utahime. 

“I’m in charge of the medkit.” Kakashi said, waving a hand over himself. 

“You mean you are the medkit.” Nanami rebutted immediately with a carefully concealed snort, and it made Kakashi crack a smile, for it has certainly been a while since he has last heard the other man managing to loosen up a little, even before yesterday. Not that he was able to see much of the other sorcerers that much nowadays, when the schedule of sorcerers depended entirely on curses, which, considering their close links to humans, meant working even beyond normal office overtime. 

Speaking of working overtime…

“Thank you for taking care of Yuuji-kun, Kento.” Kakashi said in earnest, tilting his head slightly with his typical jovial eyes, and finally, a small smile graced the hardened 7:3 sorcerer’s face. “I know you didn’t have to accept Satoru’s request, yet you did.”

“I should be saying that to you, Gojo-shi,” the response had Kakashi shaking his head, yet the other continued, “He’s certainly looked a lot better and cheerful than the last time I spoke to him. Well, Gojo-san did a marvellous job of distracting him too, I suppose.”

“And I wouldn’t accept bringing Itadori-kun along if I didn’t want to.” the man added after a pause and a tilt of his chin, “It is my responsibility as an adult to look after a child such as him. There’s nothing wrong with who he is.”

“You worry for the boy as well.” Kakashi pointed out. 

“...He is young.” Nanami’s fingers caught and smoothen a crickle in his tie. “And youth comes with a lot of things. Naivety. Gallantry. Righteousness. All the attributes that are challenged when one becomes a sorcerer. I worry for his sake.”

Yes, I am, Kakashi deciphered from those strings of concealed words. I’m afraid that the work will hurt him, poison him, eroding him of his sense of self and beliefs. Just like it had done with a certain someone. 

The reminder had him tearing his sight onto movement at the corner of his eye ; slight rustling amongst the hanging canopy, before a small brown-capped pygmy woodpecker, a chick most probably, came hopping out with its wings flapping rapidly in excitement. It must have escaped from its nest, and was savouring its newfound freedom by exploring the thick branch it was perched upon, tethering to the edge ever so closely.

Kakashi sent a small smile at the other. “Give the boy some credit, Kento. Though his road is long, he won’t be alone. And if he happens to stumble...” 

Just before the chick tumbled over the edge, a bigger woodpecker came out in a flurry, just in the nick of time to catch its chick from falling to its death. It chirped frenziedly, guiding the young back to the nest.

“One of us will be there to catch him, yeah?”

“...Of course.” Nanami said, and Kakashi doesn’t need to look over to know that the other was appraising him with that kind of tenderness that he doesn’t feel deserve.

“I believe you got hurt sometime during the mission?” Kakashi steered the conversation away perhaps not too smoothly, just to get away.

He sensed Nanami now eyeing him with a careful side glance, but the man, fortunately, let it go, replying with a, “I’m not the one who fell flat on my face, no?”

Amused, Kakashi, for his part, poked Nanami directly on his leopard-spotted tie. “No, but I believe you were injured as well during that scuffle with Patch-face. Shoko tattled on you.”

“A gash at my side, but it's already healed, thanks.”

They reached the Infirmary, the building looking untouched by the years, even retaining its gloominess. Nanami moved as if to place a hand on Kakashi’s shoulder, but opted for a cross of his arms instead. “As much as I like this back-and-forth between us, regretfully, I do not think that this is just a nice walk between us?”

“Nah,” Kakashi said slyfully, moving to the entrance. No one inside the lit halls, perfect. “I’m using you as a shield against Shoko in case she tries to use me as a pin cushion. I swear, the only reason that woman uses them is because she knows I don’t like them poking into my very delicate skin.”

At that, Nanami sighed exasperatedly at the silver-haired man, striding alongside him to where Shoko’s office was. A patch of sunlight really highlighted the paleness of his hay-coloured hair as they strolled past a window. Their voices echoed hollowly in the empty hallways. “I certainly would not hold it against her, considering your bouts of escapade were unwarranted, and frankly, nonsensical.”

“You wound me right here.” Kakashi said seriously, pointing straight at his heart. After a few seconds, he relaxed. “Though I really need to see Shoko to get a medical kit. I’m in charge of the event’s…health watcher. Or something. The person who heals. In case the students scrap themselves too badly.”

“In replacement of Ieiri-san?” An exhale of air that showed that Nanami was actually amused by his predicament. Rude. 

This is what he gets from trying to be too helpful. Shoko usually doesn’t spend her valuable time outside of the morgue or her office in the infirmary, but because she was one of the very few people who can heal others thanks to her Jujutsu technique, she has been running herself ragged to the ground each time. 

Kakashi allowed himself a whine, a pitch higher than his usual octave, and if Nanami found that annoying, then that was the man’s own problem. “Fun. I get to prevent the little kiddies from mutilating each other.”

Nanami gave a very sarcastic yet sageful nod. “A very responsible and honourable job. One, that I assure you, despite your bouts of denial for your ineptitude of it, you will succeed at.” 

Despite himself, he could feel the giddiness swelling up in him at the praise. Kakashi ignored the burning sensations of his ears at the other’s earnestness. “You trust me too much.” He mumbled, finding sudden interest at the swaying leaves outside.

“Quite the contrary, you had never given me any reasons to not put my complete trust in you.”

Struck wordless, as well unable to simply ignore the burning flush that has undoubtedly spread itself further over his face and neck, Kakashi merely hit the stupid brickwall of a man on the shoulder, receiving a small, almost inaudible huff of laughter. His heart was racing, his pulses quickening much too fast for his taste. What is this? 

Stupid, stupid man. Stupid, stupid him. 

Complete trust. Kakashi doesn’t even trust himself. And he told Nanami why. So why. Even after telling the man that ---? 

“Oh wow,” Shoko greeted them, blinking owlishly from behind her screen as Kakashi decided to just casually walk into her office without even a knock, Nanami following behind with a displeased frown at the lack of courtesy. “It’s you two, together. Am I finally going to win the bet, Nanami?”

What bet? Kakashi threw Nanami a questioning raise of the brow, the latter looking unruffled.

“Your humorous nature is infallible as always, Ieiri-san,” the blonde replied calmly. “But Gojo-shi merely asked me for his company at the infirmary, for a small business to be conducted with you. Nothing more.”

“Gojo really needs to know not to drag others into his business, especially at the very last minute,” Shoko said this to Kakashi after a minute of silent staring between her and Nanami, handing over a very compact medbag. It was bulging from its contents. It was mostly just for show, but for mere scratches and typical gashes, it would suffice. “Not that I don’t appreciate having to sit off from babysitting trigger-happy teenagers. More time to catch up on some K-drama.”

“Your kindness is appreciated, Shoko-chan,” Kakashi said with a kindred smile, just slightly off to be disingenuous.  

“Behave you,” Nanami slightly scolded. Though with a little shrug, he was in a rare, puckish mood as well. “Ieiri-san’s moment of propriety is something that should not be taken lightly, especially considering how infrequent it is.”

“Asses, both of you.” Shoko retorted almost fondly, before her face schooled back into one of a professional medical practitioner. She might have cheated her way through medical school, but she was, well, somewhat passionate about her job (The high pay may have something to do with it as well). She gave Kakashi a once through, poking his arm and feeling each one of his fingers. “So how are we feeling today? All good? Not feeling like a walking zombie?”

Kakashi wriggled his index finger just for fun. “Nothing to worry about, really. I’ve completely healed, well physically anyway. My reserves are too big to have recovered in that short amount of time.”

“Great,” Shoko said, sounding completely neutral. “Now get out. I don’t want to see your mug back in here until at least another month, you hear me? Or else.” She threatened blatantly, pointing the end of her pen towards Kakashi with her remark.

While Kakashi is happy that Shoko is too preoccupied to poke him with needles and not having to use Nanami as bait, he could not help himself. 

“Wait for a sec, Shoko,” As the doctor turned back to him with a surprised, raised brow, Kakashi hesitated a bit, before continuing with, “What do you recommend for…heart palpitation?”

Both the other sorcerers in the room stared at him; Nanami in veiled concern, Shoko…in a mixture of boredom and that certain sharpness that all medical personnel seemed to have.

"Elaborate." Shoko pulled Kakashi over to completely sit in the chair; Nanami reared back to give them space, but the weight of his gaze was enough to send not only his chest, but also his stomach fluttering into orbit again. 

Thus, when Kakashi spoke, it was with a certain sheen of embarrassment, voice slightly hushed so only Shoko could hear. "It's like….well, it's kind of hard to explain but–" Shoko had to lean closer to catch his words, "It only happens sometimes, along with some other symptoms.”

The doctor was rightly confused, but she took him seriously.  "And what are the others?”

“A-ah,” Kakashi swallowed back a pathetic little sound, feeling self-consciousness the more Shoko was observing quite so grimly, “I’d feel jittery, my stomach does this weird pummeling sensation…and it would happen at certain times.”

Shoko was unmerciful. “Like right now?”

“...like now.”

Apparently Shoko seemed to have come to a conclusion, because she let out a snort, the sound almost exasperated. “Oh wow, geez ,” Amusement mixed with bone-deep tiredness laced into her tone. She was looking at Kakashi as if the other was a particularly mixed brand of idiocy that she has ever had the pleasure of observing in real life and time. “Really, what is it with you Gojos? I haven’t seen this kind of folly since Ge–” She suddenly closed her mouth shut, shutting off the rest of her murmured words. 

“Are you alright?” Nanami’s voice swept over Kakashi’s embarrassment, sounding closer now; apparently taking Shoko’s light tone as a green light. His hand tentatively placed itself on Kakashi’s left shoulder, large enough to almost cover it. “If you’re still exerted, then perhaps you should rest instead of partaking in the event. Forgive my words, but you know well enough that your physical condition is less than desirable at times.”

Kakashi waved him off to show that he was not offended at all. It was the truth after all. Plus, the other man’s obvious worry was making him feel giddy for some reason. Not that he would show it outwardly; he had the slightest feeling that Shoko was the one who was going to combust somehow over Kakashi’s emotional turmoil. “No, no, I’m fine. I was just…curious. About something.”

The deep furrows of the former salaryman’s told Kakashi that he was not convinced by Kakashi’s flimsy excuse, and to be honest, neither was Kakashi himself. But Kakashi has enough embarrassment on his plate to last him two lifetimes, he doesn’t need another reminder of how utterly damaged he was compared to a normal functional human being. 

Kakashi saw Shoko roll her eyes, punctuated with her deep, dark bags. “Come back here.” The doctor motioned him to her, quickly running a diagnostic reversed technique over Kakashi more to placate Nanami rather than doing a formal checkup. Her cursed energy was cold and viscous, reminding Kakashi of the ominous liquids in syringes. It still fascinates Kakashi to this day of how…forbidding cursed energy was as compared to the warmth of chakra. 

“He’s fine.” Shoko delivered her verdict to Nanami instead of the patient himself. As the dispassionate, unfeeling professional that she was, Shoko ignored the hidden pout that Kakashi gave her. “He’s just missing a brain cell or two, but he’s healthy enough to continue on with whatever shenanigan Gojo has him involved with.”

“I’m right here you know.”

“Unfortunately.” was Shoko’s reply. “Now if you two gentlemen excuse me, I have important business to attend to.”

Leaving the doctor back to staring at her monitor with an audible sigh of “Jin-ah, why?!”, the two retreated back outside, Kakashi tucking the medical bag into one of the convenient storage seals he had  away in his thigh pouch. 

The weather was nice, sunny, and bright, perfect for an outside event such as today. Quite a contrast to the storm of turmoil that was threatening to swallow Kakashi whole. 

Kakashi felt stupid that he had asked Nanami Kento to walk him to the infirmary, an affair that took them a mere ten minutes to accomplish. Just two First Grade sorcerers spending their limited off-time on something so humdrum. 

“I should go,” Kakashi said, swallowing back his sense of disappointment, even though he knew he had just wasted the other’s time. Was this worth the effort of just wanting Nanami’s company?

He was already busting his head trying to figure out why sometimes there were literal butterflies hounding him. Shoko seems to know why, but he knew better than to ask her for a straight answer. How absurd, to know that he, former Copy Ninja, current Gojo Satoru’s Shadow, was stumped over something like this. 

“Gojo-shi,” Kento turned to the other, and Kakashi wondered if the other was going to give him an earful about it. 

Instead, Nanami presented him with quite the unexpected offer.

“There will be a new release of ‘Mid-June Summer’ coming later this week.” 

“Seriously?!” His worries flew immediately out of the window. A gasp escaped from his covered lips as Kakashi felt absolutely rejuvenated, excitement rushing through his veins. His mind did the calculations, and holy Kami-sama, Kento was right, it was supposed to be this weekend! How could he have forgotten?

Thanks to his naturally great memory (and those countless times he had read the Icha-Icha series in his past life), he was able to easily recall the plot of the rom-com novel that he had been eagerly tracking. How could the author had ended the book right on a cliffhanger, where Isabella was about to board a flight, leaving behind life as she knew it, how her heart was in turmoil due to the the abrupt argument she had with the main love interest from an easily manageable-turned-out-of-control misunderstanding while the other love interest, the dark, broody musician had invited her to his home in Europe, a hidden way for him to her all to himself. The tragedy! Especially when the main interest very much loves her with all of his heart and just couldn’t bear to lose her.

He let out some of his unbridled thoughts in a burst of rushed rambles and to the other, and was that a…smile on Nanami’s face?

“Kentoooo,” Kakashi whined. “Don’t you dare laugh at this, this is an absolutely serious rant I have here! My enjoyment of quality writing is at stake!” 

He felt like that actually added more to the former salaryman’s amusement. The creases of his forehead and the corner of his lips were relaxed, nary visible and while Kakashi couldn’t completely see his eyes due to his glasses, he knew that they were fixated right on him, his sole attention for the moment.

“Very serious,” The man nodded his opinion on the matter, posture relaxed instead of his customary rim-rod straight stance. “Hence, for this matter of most importance, I am asking for the pleasure of your company for this weekend.”

Kakashi blinked. And then blinked some more.

“Accompany me to the bookstore this weekend?” Kento requested so unabashedly, that Kakashi felt the tips of his ears flushed slightly in embarrassment in his stead. As it was, he hoped that his longer bangs were enough to cover them up, because Kakashi knew that he could blush like a tomato. 

Thanks whatever-the-fuck-this-illness was, fucking over Kakashi’s emotions, because everything felt infuriatingly confusing, his thoughts jumping and accelerating into a thousand, jumbled fragments of bewilderment—

T-t-t-t-t-t-t-this is that , isn’t it?! The situation where two people go out and try to gauge their compatibility. Kakashi remembers the word multiple, no, countless times during his venture of romance novels, this life and the one before it, popping out in the books. Was this–

Was this a d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-da–!!

Kakashi almost bit his tongue as he quite shamely, stammered out loud, “D-d-d-date?”

Fortunately Nanami seemed to take that as Kakashi asking for the proposed day of the invitation. “This Saturday, yes, if you’re not occupied with something else. And of course,” the man momentarily paused, and the summer heat made itself known on the man’s sharp features, spreading across a charming red hue, “If you’re willing to.”

“Kento…” Here, Kakashi forced himself to meet Nanami’s eyes. He rolled the words on his tongue, mulling them over and over in his mind, wondering if it was alright for him, for someone like him to do this, to accept. “If this is a thank you for the beers I got you, it’s fine, no need to repay me. Though when you keep treating me like this, I might think that–”

The expression that Nanami gave him was part amused, part confused at Kakashi’s jest, a pause as he studied Kakashi for a moment. Then:

“Well, of course. We’re still friends, aren’t we?”

…

Yeah, friends. 

There was actually no reason for Kakashi to be flustered over this invitation. When they were still attending Jujutsu Tech as students, the three of them –Haibara and Nanami first before bringing Kakashi along with them, would always pay a weekly visit to the city, whether as a grocery run or just as customary hangouts. Or at least, it used to be. 

Nanami knows after all. Kakashi told him. 

Despite what you may think of me, I’m not a good person, Kento. Far from it. On me, there’s blood. Inside me, there’s–

Kakashi tried to keep the shallow disappointment away. This is enough. This was more than enough, much more than he deserves. 

He felt like a fool. 

Outwardly, there was his mask of friendliness, showing off a tiny dip of his shoulder and a “Aww, Kento, I’m still your friend despite all those weeks of leaving you in the dust? I appreciate that.”

“Ah, so you admit that you were avoiding me.” There was an assured smug, albeit sad smirk that tugged at the blonde’s lips. “Although I wish you would tell me why.”

Kakashi thought about denying it, but self-deflection was almost too tiring at this moment. He just hummed instead. 

“...Is this related to ‘that thing’ that you can’t tell me?”

The second ticked by almost painfully. 

“I’m sorry.” Kakashi said, because the other deserved that much. 

Nanami shook his head with a heavy exhale. “No. No, it should be me who apologises. I shouldn’t have pushed beyond my boundaries.”

The man let out a frankly undignified little ‘oof’ when Kakashi punched him playfully on the shoulder, “Aww, don’t be like that~ We’re friends , right? And,” Kakashi delivered an honest smile. "It's not like Nanami Kento’s wisdom has failed me at this point. If I fucked up anything, you tell me straight. Like you always do.”

Because it’s easy to not see one’s mistakes when you’re soaked in them.

“Like the fact that you’re still here when the event has already commenced approximately fifteen minutes ago.” Whatever coquettish character the sorcerer initially had turned dry as he gave an unapproving stare at the other. 

Ah, the familiar topic regarding his chronic lateness. 

“Very well. I shall see you later, Gojo-shi.” Nanami tutted, and before Kakashi could say anything else, the man reached inside the plastic bag that Kakashi had forgotten he was hauling, before something soft and crinckly boinked Kakashi on his forehead. “Eat on your way there.”

The silver-haired man grabbed the offering; a plastic-wrapped katsu-sando stared back at him in all of its simple, culinastic glory. 

When Kakashi looked back up at Nanami, the other man gave him a somewhat coy smile, one that used to remind him of their youthful days. “I have to reclaim my title as the walking bread dispenser, after all.”

The 7:3 sorcerer dipped his head as a prompt farewell, before taking off in his usual stoic manner, leaving Kakashi alone to contemplate with a sandwich in his hand. Just as he was about to round the corner–

“See you this Saturday, Kento.”

A jerk, Kento whirled around on the spot, and there was a degree of astonishment, and, dare Kakashi say it, happiness visible on his slacked jawed expression, as his lips curled into a smile. And by god, Kento really does need to smile more often, it makes his hard-lined face much more mellow…and handsome, his blond strands lustre of starlight in the dimmed hallway. “Alright, I’ll see you.”

“You’re really too good of a man, Kento.” Kakashi muttered into the emptiness, when he was sure the other was gone. 

Much too good for someone like him. 

.

.

.

As it was, when Kakashi finally made his way to the meeting point, the savoury hint of spices  still coating his taste buds, he was greeted with the sight of the school principal chokeholding his younger brother in a weird, tangled position, the latter frantically patting the older man’s back to let go. Masamichi Yaga was explaining in a monotonous tonality, as if nothing was amiss, perhaps the rules of the first day if Kakashi could bring himself to focus on the droning and not how a kimono-clad woman, Iori Utahime was clearly revelling in Satoru’s punishment for a) keeping the fact that Ryomen Sukuna’s vessel a secret and b) being annoying in general. 

Kakashi stepped closer from behind the crowd of students watching the display in various reactions, in a slouch, hands tucked deeply in his windbreaker. The first one to notice him was Maki, and aside from a raised brow, she harrumphed, and said something to Panda and Toge, both of whom waved at him. He waved back, and in doing so, drew Yaga’s attention to him.

Kakashi held up his hands in an act for mercy, feeling that the principal's eyes glinting at him from behind his usual shades were as if to say, I have no idea of Itadori Yuuji’s continued existence, so please do not choke the oxygen out of me as well.

Satoru went to whine at him afterwards as soon as he was released, coming to stand beside him as he rubbed his neck. As he came to stand beside him, a tall figure already enough to draw attention by himself, multiple sets of gazes zeroed in at the duo; some interested at the newcomer. Most of the students from Tokyo already knew him, and were undoubtedly slandering him (affectionately he hoped). 

Utahime muttered, “Oh, great. Now there’s two .” She glanced at the blue sky, as if asking whatever being above what she has done to deserve this fate. 

“Who’s that?” One of the pupils from Kyoto whispered to her peers, a blue-haired girl with weird bangs. “I don’t think I’ve seen him before.”

Another one, a literal mecha-robot, replied, “Must be one of the staff. Though if he is, he is–”

“You are approximately eighteen minutes late. Warranted enough for a punishment as well.” The principle cracked his knuckles menacingly, the action made much more intimidating with his tall, bulky figure. 

Kakashi yelped fast enough to save his legs from numbness via seiza . Screw any attempt to look cool. “I have an excuse! I went to get some supplies! Plus, we don’t have time, do we, Yaga-sensei? Yes, it’s about time for the early team meeting!” Say what you will about his memory, he wouldn’t be able to remember the layout of the programs from his own time otherwise. 

Luckily for the nerves in Kakashi’s legs, the older man bought into his mitigation. Yaga shook his head, sighing, “Your tactless unpunctuality is expected, though you’re right that we’re on a schedule. I’ll deal with your punishment later.” Then under his breath, “Already had my hands full with that one.” Referring to Satoru of course, who wagged his fingers as if he had something to be proud of by being the epitome of annoyingness. 

“Alright,” Yaga-sensei’s voice boomed across the crowd of both Tokyo and Kyoto students, a figure of authority. The talking ceased momentarily to take in the improtou announcement, “Though introduction is quite late at this point, this is Kakashi-san, who will be in charge of medical attention, should you need it. Albeit I remind you once more, in the grand scheme of things, we are all comrades in arms, so don’t go around mauling each other too much .”

When Yaga turned to him, Kakashi took that as his cue to add anything more. “Yeah, there’s only so much that I can do, so don’t go bleeding to death, m’kay~♡”

Satoru stepped in to deliver additional rapport by clapping. Utahime looked ready to slap them both, especially at her own students’ confused reactions. 

Bopping his head rapidly and still delivering his perfunctory eye curl, Kakashi backtracked straight into the Tokyo students, who naturally gave a warm reception.

“Hey, Slightly-Less-of-An-Idiot.” Maki poked him hard in the back, a distinct sense of disinterest in her rigid stance. “Fancy seeing you not stuck in the infirmary bed for once.”

Panda added, a panda finger pointed to his panda mouth in ponder, “Did you run away again? I honestly find it hard to believe.” He tilted his head. 

Kakashi whirled around, greeting them with a salute. “What? Can’t I be here to give you guys my good luck blessing for the event~?” 

Maki tsk ed in response, to which when a shorter white-haired boy neared him with a “Okaka”, which may be roughly translated to, “That’s bullshit to me and you know it.”

“That’s mean! I am here to assist you guys.” Placing his hand on his chest, Kakashi drone, but retreated to a smile and ruffled Inumaki’s hair, the teenager enjoying it like a puppy with his eyes closed. He’d really haven’t seen them in a while, and while yeah, he’s here with another additional objective, but to be here supporting the lot is not too bad of a day spent, yeah?

Doing well in this event would open up so much more chances for them to be promoted to a higher Grade, and out of all, Maki would benefit from this the most, considering her clan is the one mostly holding her back from reaching a higher position. The girl honestly deserves it, as it would be a step closer to her personal goal. 

Albeit whether or not Kakashi is happy that this means that they’re going to be exposed to more dangerous missions is a food for thought. Kakashi doesn’t want to coddle them, growth is important for youths, and they can be so much better and stronger than Kakashi and even Satoru in the future, given their potential, but–

But–

(But they could be killed–)

Kakashi metaphorically shook his head to snap himself from his spiralling thoughts. Not now, he thought with a swallow, now, he has to be a supporting figure to the kids, they deserve this much.

They don’t need someone who’s falling apart at the seams. 

“Kakashi-san! You’re here!” Yuuji perked up from where he was pinned under the arm of a bright, brown-haired girl, unknowingly sealing Kakashi’s pummelling by revealing that, yes, he has met Kakashi before and Kakashi knew that he was alive. The girl looked at him with curiosity, and judging by her tomboyish, jaded demeanour, this must be Kugisaki Nobara, the last First Year that Kakashi hasn't personally met yet.

A muted, almost inaudible growl to his left; Fushiguro Megumi’s eyes were a deep dark gunmetal colour, brows drawn neutrally, the line of his lips set in a hard frown and his shoulders a slight hunch.

Ah, he got Megumi’s Neutral Face of Displeasure.

He recalled the conversation from last night, of Megumi’s reservation with Yuuji’s death, and was unable to hide a wince. Yeah, he supposed this was warranted. 

Kakashi made sure not to meet Principle Yaga’s gaze as well lest he would speed up to receive his due retribution now. Ah, a distraction, a distraction–

“All right, do your best~” Kakashi displayed a bright cheer, clasping his palms together. His eyes crinkled together in a faux smile. “If you do well, then I’ll treat you to whatever you want, homemade of course~”

“Creeeeeeeepy, any adult who is overly friendly is so gross,” Kugikasi muttered to herself, a little put off by the newcomer and his… warmth. She promptly let go of Itadori, who gave her a dirty look at the armchoke. “And why does he look like Gojo-sen–?”

All of sudden, all the Tokyo students fired up, obviously repped by this prospect. Kugisaki let out a little surprised scream, shielding away from the sudden, literal bonfire that erupted from her peers. Even Megumi, with his still pissed off face, was showing off great enthusiasm in his own deadpan way. 

“Now we absolutely cannot lose this!” Maki-senpai literally growled as she dragged Yuuji by his collar towards where the other Tokyo students were grouped. “Come on, dipshit, you can’t mess this up! Do you even know how valuable Kakashi’s meals are?!”

“It’s Itadori!” Yuuji protested through another strangulation. And valuable? They were delicious, yes, but considering how much he’d been eating Kakashi’s meals lately, why do the scary glasses-wearing girl make it sound like they were a rare currency?

“Mentaiko!” Inumaki waggled his finger at the confused, pink-haired teenager, who looked around to see if anyone could explain why this person was spouting onigiri ingredients at him. And holy shit, was that a panda standing and talking?!

“U-uwa…” Miwa inched behind her seniors, utterly intimidated by all the burning visible passion exorbitant by the already intimidating (in her personal opinion) individuals. 

“I see, I see!” Todo was apparently impressed by something, finger posed under his chin. A big toothy grin bloomed on his face as he nodded. “They say the true way to a man’s heart is by cooking after all. I’m wondering how Takada-chan’s cooking will hold up in the culinary arts. Certainly, hers would truly rival that of the ambrosia of the gods themselves!”

“You are delusional,” Despite her feminal appearance, Mai heaved a big, hefty sigh, frazzled by the sudden excitement. Her motivation and energy was completely drained when the event had not even started yet. Behind her, Momo was consoling an almost shell-shocked Miwa, patting her on the head.

Kamo was saying to Mechamaru, “The Tokyo students are on another level of sorcerer crazy, aren’t they? They are exhilarated because of the promise of food, right?”

“Yes.” Mechamaru replied. 

“Disgraceful.” Kamo said, shaking his head, and if his eyes weren’t already closed, they'd be narrowed into slits. “They are sorcerers, yet to get excited over food like starving animals… Even that one is rejoicing.”

Satoru’s voice was booming above all of the others as he squealed, long limbs flailing and almost smacking Utahime right in her face. She inched away with a scowl. “Kakashi-san’s cooking? You kiddies better win when so much is at stake! I haven’t had any in so long, my stomach’s practically a desert by now!” 

“Don’t you eat his cooking everyday?” Utahime asked him in futility, already fed up with the whole situation to the point she forgot to minimize her interactions with the Gojo as much as possible. The female sorcerer gave Kakashi the stink eye, the other seemingly oblivious as he returned it with a gleeful grin, hidden by the blasted medical mask. If Utahime didn’t know any better, she would think that the man was enjoying the shrieking and obstreperousness from the students. 

Well she wouldn’t be surprised; if the man managed to grow up with this thing (aka Gojo Satoru), then surely he would be able to handle a few handouts from a couple of teens. And everyone – who knows the secret but not really a secret unless you’re legally blind to see the glaring similarities between Satoru and Kakashi – knew that it was bound to be chaotic whenever there’s two Gojos in the same vicinity. 

Hopefully this was not a bad omen or something. 

“Aight, calm down you lot!” Yaga shouted to the rowdy students (and Gojo by extension, who had jumped in the crowd of students whooping loudly like he was throwing an American frat party), but he too, was obviously enraptured by the prospect of enjoying a good meal. He shooed them away for their designated team meeting spots.

“Don’t worry,” Kakashi called out to the retreating Tokyo Metropolitan school team, in particular Yuuji, who waved enthusiastically at him as he was being dragged by the collar by a still sulking Megumi and a very bewildered Kugisaki, who was still looking back and to Satoru and Kakashi as if she was trying to connect unseen dots.  

“I’ll watch over you.”

It was both a reassurance to Yuuji, and a silent warning to the higher-ups.

Speaking of higher-ups, feeling a weighted gaze bearing holes at the back of his skull, Kakashi turned to a glowering Gakuganji and gave him a very loud, obnoxious, “Yo! Have you had a pleasant stay so far, Principle?” He threw in a two-fingered wave for good measure.

The principal of the Kyoto school mumbled incoherently under his breath, something about youngsters lacking respect, but out loud he said, “Gojo Kakashi…how surprising, for you to join us today.”

“Ma, I was feeling resourceful lately, so I thought of chipping in for the good ol’ betterment and value of the upstanding Jujutsu society by aiding in the safety of the cute, little pupils!”

Gakuganji seemed to think otherwise because his tone sounded almost offended. “Aiding in safety, hmph! You, my boy, are far from being a beacon of safety for the students. Especially when your assistance in the secrecy of Ryomen Sukuna’s vessel proves that your own survival is only due to the Gojo clan’s overruling verdict, a verdict that, should I remind you, was only from the Head of Clan himself and none of the others.”

Not going to lie, that did sting a little. Though Kakashi held his ground, simply delivering his eye crinkle that he knows pisses people off.  

Kakashi felt Satoru slinked up from behind him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Though he could practically feel Satoru’s grin, the gesture was protective and beneath his blindfold, the Six Eyes were gleaming with absolute contempt. “Righto, old geezer! I feel like the heat has only make your already cuckoo brain senile, because Yuuji-kun – that’s his name by the way, since your ancient noggin ain’t remembering it, is doing just fine. Same as Kakashi-san here, who’s acting as extra pairs of eyes because clearly , yours aren’t working too well due to scurrying about doing other old coots’ biddings for them.”

Gakuganji locked eyes with Kakashi in appraisal, though his words were directed to the younger Gojo, “Hmph. The only boon of the boy. If he should be able to control himself, then I suppose his ability to utilise Reversed Technique is worth keeping.”

Satoru gritted his teeth. “It’s Kakashi, old fu–”

Yaga fortunately cut in before either party could escalate into more than petty words, though when he escorted Gakuganji away to where the brief team meeting with the Kyoto students was supposed to be held, the glance he threw over his shoulder was both a warning to behave and an apology. 

“All those years of service and the old farts still think you’re a ticking time bomb.” Satoru growled, obviously still agitated, teeth bared wide now that he knew Yaga wasn’t around to chastise him for it. “Bah! What do those old geezers know beyond the dusty thrones that they keep putting their fat asses on?! It’s not they’re the ones putting their lives on the line, despite all those spiel about protecting the foundations of sorcery. They’re so out of touch it’s not even funny.” 

“Please don’t waste your time on my behalf, Satoru, it’s not worth it.” Kakashi finally said, and when he glanced at his brother, a hidden azure lower was now aimed at him; Satoru was most displeased at his words, though within it, there was also worry. Kakashi hasn’t been this self-berating for a long while, and it caught Satoru’s attention.

“Something wrong?” Always quick to change gears, Satoru butted his head lightly against Kakashi’s, a lighthearted way to get his confession. 

Kakashi looked away, certainly not to hide his own apprehension. “Just…just a bit wound up.” His emotions have fluctuated like a roller-coaster this day alone, and he needs to calm down , lest whatever Gakuganji thinks of him would come true. He stomped down the restlessness with fretful vengeance, deploying a breathing technique that he’d often used for meditation.

Breath in…Breath out…

Satoru stiffened, and in a moment, Kakashi could feel his technique washing over his being; Infinity trying to neutralise the buildup of cursed energy if there was any. “Do you feel pain? In your chest? No? Alright.” A colourful curse flew from his mouth. “I swear, if Gakuganji’s causing you to regress, I’ll kill that fucker myself, no hesitation.”

Kakashi attempted some damage control, “No murdering the senior citizen in front of the children.”

“Then it’s fine otherwise then.” A bit of a manic sheen tore at his brother’s lips. 

“Joke aside, it’s really not worth riling Gakuganji up when he might be on Yuuji’s case next now that everyone knows that he’s alive.” Kakashi jerked his head towards one of the buildings. “Now nevermind this, let’s go see Utahime when we still have the chance to.”

-x-

“So what do you want?” Utahime’s expression was one of pure resignation as she sat a few seats away from where the younger Gojo sat. Her initial plan was to hide away in the observation room and wait quietly until the event properly starts, but her hope of being as far away as possible from a certain nuisance was dashed when that nuisance strided straight through the door with a off-pitched “U-ta-hi-me~”, followed silently by his haggard-looking sibling. 

“Surely it is an important matter considering you also brought him along.” She jerked her chin towards where Kakashi was sitting. On paper, Utahime and Kakashi had the same sorcerer grade-level, Semi 1st Grade. She has been able to run into the man a handful of times while on missions, and despite the man’s claims to be a mere support (his ability to heal is a rare, valuable trait), she has also seen him handle First Grade and near Special Grade curses with ease.

And every Jujutsu sorcerer worth their grade knows what has warranted the man to be called “Gojo Satoru’s Shadow”. The rumours were brutal.

Doesn’t dismiss the fact that the man was also an indulging, soft brother enabler , She thought vehemently, throwing her cup of hot tea at the annoying blindfolded man when he mocked her again. His whine was expected, so was Gojo’s seek of refuge to his brother, who patted his big head in consolation. 

“Now, now, don’t antagonise Iori-san too much. She is your senior after all.” Those droopy eyes of his turned and offered Utahime his makeshift eyecurl that indicated a smile, as if she could see it. “Speaking of which, long time no see. I trust you’ve been well?”

Utahime has not really been around Kakashi that much, considering their station. Though he was a constant drinking buddy with Shoko and Nanami, so Utahime sometimes tagged along when she was around, mostly to catch up with Shoko. Kakashi was good with words, and much more amiable that Utahime could have thought he’ll be, albeit secretive. Though when he was drunk, he was much more talkative. Utahime remembers the one time when she was not dead-drunk to recall the man gushing stories of his childhood with Satoru, in particular who the small-brat-turned-190cm-brat had wanted to marry. 

Ah, to think that even the annoying Gojo has been such a cute kid. What has humanity done wrong to get… this thing ?

Letting down her guard at the pleasantry, Utahime let out a slight sigh, but replied with a, “I’m fine, thank you for asking.” 

Kakashi nodded slightly, still smiling. “Ah, that’s great. I was a bit concerned because you looked like you’d aged a few years since–”

Utahime’s last thread of sanity snapped. 

Gojo chortled annoyingly. “Nii-san, you just insulted her. Or told her the truth, I guess~”

“U-uh?” Kakashi brought up his hands in front of him in self-defence, eyes wide. “I-I apologise, I didn't mean to! It just really seems that your skin was duller and there’s a wrinkle when there shouldn’t be for a esteem woman of your age— Um, Iori-san, why is your eye twitching like th–”

Utahime justifiably proceeded to slug them both. 

When she had managed to calm down enough, though looking plenty frazzled and irked, Gojo finally decided to be serious. “We need your help with a hunch that we had. You know those reports of Special Grades that kept popping out? Well, there might be a spy within us working with them, maybe a Curse User or even Cursed Spirits.”

“What?!” The thought was honestly appalling. “A Curse User, maybe, but with a Cursed Spirit?!”

Gojo hunched over to brace his elbows on his knees, lacing his fingers. “As I said, there’re quite a few special ones these days. Though this person might only be talking to the Curse User.”

“So you want me to keep tabs on the Kyoto school due to my position there.” Once she got over her shock, Utahime stated rather than asked, resisting the urge to bite her lips. Working with curses of all things, literal creatures that are the bane of their very existence. It was almost unthinkable. Part of her didn’t want to believe that any of her colleagues could aspire to even do such a thing, but despite Gojo’s infuriatingly frivolous ways, he was not the type to throw baseless accusations willy-nilly. A traitor within their ranks–

A chill went down her spine. She threw a glance at where the other Gojo was slouching against the doorframe of the entrance, hands in his pockets, apparently keeping guard. The shadows clung ominously over his form, and suddenly, the man looked every bit as dangerous as the rumours suggest he could, a silent assassin hiding in the dark. “Then he’s actually here to–”

“Yes.” Gojo affirmed, now leaning back to cross his legs. There was a click of his tongue, and a dismissive wave of his hand. “But not now, he’s really just here to play nurse to the kids and keep watch on them. A bunch of teenagers from rival schools fighting one another in a big ass forest? Great idea! Surrrrrrreeeely nothing bad will happen. Though come on, can anything really go wrong when I’m here, ya know? That’ll be ridiculous!” 

-x-

Everything went absolutely wrong.

At first, there was really nothing out of the ordinary; the students were head-to-head in their battles while trying to score ahead in points. The first day of the Goodwill event had the students pitted against the other school in a race of exorcism; whichever exorcise the 2nd Grade Curse placed deliberately somewhere in the battle area first wins. 

Though the Kyoto faction were moving as one unit instead of spreading out to cover more ground. Kakashi has his initial bouts of suspicions at this, but chose to wait things out. He shoved his hands into his pockets, willing his anxious energy to calm as he watched how far the kids’ have grown during the weeks he was away. The Tokyo versus Kyoto has begun in earnest, with Megumi and Maki intercepting Kamo and Miwa respectively.

That point came when Satoru pointed out that the video feed that should have shown Yuuji’s fight with one of the Kyoto students was, suspiciously, inconsistent and blurry in quality. 

The one in charge of providing the video feed live from the battlefield shrugged. Meimei said, a little too leisurely, “Well, what can you do about animals? Besides, it gets tiring looking at things from their point of view after a while.” Kakashi remembers that her innate technique was controlling birds, a somewhat weak ability on its own, but Meimei wouldn’t have attained First Grade rank without serious fighting prowess and judgement. 

Satoru leaned his head further back that Kakashi was afraid that it might pop, saying with a knowing smirk. “Hmmm, are you sure about that?” He paused for dramatic effect. “Whose side are you on, Meimei?”

“I’m on the side of money.” Meimei replied without any shame, red ruby lips pulled into a vulture-like grin. The First-grade sorcerer gave an even wider smirk when she heard Kakashi’s tiny, surprised cough at her proclamation. “Speaking of which, you would fetch me a ton of cash, wouldn’t you~ I kid, I kid. You are such a downer when it comes to him.” She acquiesced when she felt the younger Gojo glaring at her, though by her still mischievous demeanour, Kakashi thinks that there might be some other story behind that particular divulgence.  

“Plus, I will never eliminate someone who has high ‘service potential’... normally.”

Kakashi felt a shiver down his spine at the frankly terrifying woman, and hoped to never get on her bad side (though her compliance for monetary gain was incorrigible).

“Money eh?” Satoru settled down, and deliberately, with a very very loud tone:

“I wonder how much!”

Gakuganji, the old coot, was silent. 

His younger brother continued to ummed and ahhed as a front, but Kakashi caught the discrete signal. Already on it , he conveyed back, a shadow clone was soundlessly sent out approximately two minutes ago, taking advantage of the grating audio feed of ongoing battles to cover its movements when it slipped out. 

Undoubtedly, there were some hidden plans going on in the background. While Yuuji was different from the last time the higher-ups had pulled the strings for his execution, and there were rules not to actively intervene in the participants’ battles, Kakashi felt marginally better sending out a clone just in case something does go awry. And Kakashi was technically not breaking the rules because he was here in the observation deck along with others and his clone was the one strolling in the woods, conveniently out of the crows’ sight. Yeah. 

Slowly, one by one, the talismans that correspond to the curses placed began to fizzle; red, blue, red, in correspondence to the team that eliminated them. 

Then when the blue-haired girl with the weird bangs fell asleep in the middle of the forest from Inumaki’s technique, the real Kakashi stood up to fulfil his role. “I’ll go get her. It’s not safe with all the curses lying about after all.” Utahime was agreeable, but the Kyoto Principle cut in, “No, let Iori do it.”

Even Yaga turned to Gakuganji in surprise. “Kakashi is proficient in reversed techniques, him collecting little Miwa is an acceptable preposition, don’t you think?”

“Something to hide, geezer?” Satoru sneered, jumping onto his feet. 

“I fear for Miwa’s safety, and I feel retrieving her as fast as possible is best.” Gakuganji replied calmly, “However, a person who naturally acts as an attractor for curses would defeat that purpose, wouldn’t you think?”

That riled Satoru immediately, and he made it known by getting up close and personal with the other. “Again with this bull–”

“Enough!” 

Surprisingly it was not Masamuchi who interjected between the two, but Kakashi himself. With a certain sharp coldness, the man crossed his arms, staring at both of the sorcerers with narrowed, stormy eyes. The way he held himself was now different; his slouch was gone, and the temperature in the room appeared to have dropped slightly in response to the man’s timulatenous demeanour. 

Though nothing more has been said, the single bark of order was enough to diffuse the situation. Satoru tsked, glunching to the wall to his side instead, while Gakuganji merely harrumphed under his breath, as if he could not believe that he was chastised by someone way younger than him. 

Kakashi turned to Utahime, who looked chagrined at the icy fury still etched in the man’s visible feature. “Please retrieve Miwa now, if you will, Iori-san. The students’ safety takes priority above all, and I think you would at least agree with me on this, Principle Gakuganji, regardless of your scepticism of me.” His tone was calm and edged in its deliverance, like steel, so untypical of his usual charade of friendliness and neutrality. 

“Of course,” The female sorcerer hurried to her feet, as though afraid of further stroking the silver-haired man’s wrath. She has never seen the man this furious before, figure tense and through the air, she could even feel the hint of electricity prickling at her skin. Though after a brief moment of hesitating, she turned to Gakuganji as well, cringing as though her next words physically hurt her to say. “Though I do implore Kakashi-san to accompany me as well to make sure Miwa doesn’t suffer from any setbacks.”

The slight jerk of Kakashi’s finger indicated his surprise at the other’s exhortation, for he could not believe that Utahime would defend him. 

A movement to his left; a broad figure partly hidden behind in the back seats, Yaga supplied, “As the host of the event, I will vouch for Kakashi. He has been an exemplary member working for the school –bar his tardiness and inability to complete paperwork– and not once, after that incident , has he ever unwillingly lost control over his cursed energy.”

Stroking his long white beard, the oldest sorcerer in the room was silent for a moment, taking in Yaga’s quiet judgement from the corner, Satoru’s diluted scowl directed at him, Kakashi’s complaisant posture and Iori’s silent plea. Only Meimei seemed unstirred by the whole thing, if the hand that covered her sly grin stipulated her amusement at the volatile situation. 

Just when he opened his mouth to reply, the various talismans that indicated the presences of the curses designated throughout simultaneously exploded into red flames, distracting them all effectively. Red. Either the Tokyo team has somehow managed to exorcise all the curses miraculously at the same moment, or…

Concurrently, the memories of Kakashi’s abruptly dispelled Shadow Clone hit him like a truck.

Intruder . His senses screamed through the timulatenous of film reels scorching his consciousness….His shadow clone showed him snippets of the ongoing fights it’d observed while hidden away amongst the foliages – to his relief, Yuuji appeared to have struck an unlikely friendship with Aoi Todo, the latter even in the middle of guiding him on the essence of Cursed energy when the clone left, of Kugisaki Nobara’s frankly terrifying standoff with Nishimiya Momo, and of Mai and Maki’s sisterly rivalry that was more of a anguished confrontation that resonated deep within his chest ( “Liar.” ). 

He had to push through the clone’s sorrow (which was his own, technically) to focus on a coherent echo; making sure to avoid Meimei’s crows’ line of sight, the clone had checked over Nobara’s sprawled form to make sure she was not grievously hurt (Mai had used a rubber bullet to knock her out, but it didn’t hurt to check for any other), before retreating to the shadows again, planning its next route.

That had left Megumi still with Noritoshi Kamo, the clone had correctly deduced, and Inumaki Toge somewhere in the vicinity, given that someone has to be exorcising the curses while the others were too occupied with fighting one another (to the point that Kakashi thought that they might be forgetting their goal).

The clone had perched on top of a tall tree, before lowering its mask and sniffing the air. Its eyes narrowed as it shifted through the various scents dampening the surroundings; sweat, blood, hot metal, fresh dirt and through the natural covers of wood, there was the sour stench of a…at least a 1st Grade curse. That should not have been there, given that the highest level of curse placed by the school for the event was a 2nd Grade. Was this due to Gakuganji?

And Toge was close to it. 

The clone hurriedly replaced its mask, and was preparing to leave when it stiffened; with one shift of the wind, the First Grade suddenly evaporated into nothingness, mauled by something far more sinister. 

And the presence of a Special Grade lacing the very atmosphere, bearing down upon them. The pressure was potent enough to dispel the clone when a shockwave lashed out, and no doubt the weaker curses were also instantly exorcised by the invisible strike. 

Urgency spurred through his veins, blood thumping to his ears. A second has passed as he managed to process through what the clone has given him at lightning speed. 

And his foremost thought was–

The kids. His instincts snarled, memories snapping at his heels, itching at his chest. 

So without waiting for the rest to even finish processing the sudden change and Yaga delivering orders, Kakashi bolted from the room, Satoru hot on his heels.

-x-

Omake: This Is Getting Out of Hand, Now There’s Two of Them

-

Gojo Satoru, newly made, only a day old Head of Clan, unabashedly, quite disrespectfully, gave only a day's heads up to Yaga before he brought over his brother to Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu High.

In retrospect, Masamichi Yaga should have foresee this, given that his three most troublesome students –Gojo Satoru, Ieiri Shoko and Geto Suguru– were clearly conspiring behind his back for weeks, no, months , given their lacey smiles, shifty eyes and that one time that Satoru asked for an extra room in the dorm, a request that was fulfilled simply because he was Gojo Satoru.

“Nii-san, this is–”

“Ah,” Those grey eyes widened ever so slightly, almost in recognition, at the sight of Yaga. “It’s you.” 

“Hello again,” A dip of his head as Yaga acknowledged the familiarity. If the kid remembers, then he should reciprocate it, even if Yaga was inwardly surprised. “I didn’t think you would remember me. It’s been such a long time after all, and you were little back then.”

Satoru looked between them with bright, blue irises. “You two know each other?”

“Somewhat.” Yaga huffed, uncrossing his arms. “Though to talk about an event that happened so long ago…it’s not worth it.”

Kakashi spoke up, and his eyes were really the epitome of the Gojo bloodline, ethereal and iridescent. “I think it is worth it however, because if you hadn't arrived to save me that day…then I wouldn’t be alive to have met Satoru.”

“So…thank you.” An affable, courteous bow. 

…

To be fair, when Gojo first brought his brother, a young, sickly thing that was much too pale and frail-looking and looked like he would spontaneously combust if he were to stand under direct sunlight for too long, Yaga was honestly conflicted. On one hand, he knew first hand the destructive capabilities of the Gojo’s cursed energy, and how much of a danger it would pose if he ever goes out from beyond the school’s protective barrier. Another catastrophe could happen, and Yaga knew that a repeat of that event would not see the benevolence of the Higher-ups again. 

On the other hand, Ieiri Shoko has been very persuasive and confident in her ability to treat the ailment that befell the Gojo, or at least, mitigate the extreme effect of Kakashi’s cursed energy from being an attractive, dangerous beacon for curses. The school hasn’t been too happy with letting Kakashi stay on campus, but was amenable on the account that a longtime uncertainty would finally be dispelled from the Jujutsu society.

A curse can only be rid by another curse, after all.

That was not a problem. 

The problem was when Gojo recommended Kakashi to enrol and become a sorcerer, but failed to have the patience to wait for a clearance, and to actually secretly send Kakashi on the field with the Second Years, without a Auxiliary Manager nonetheless. 

The whole school faculty was in chaos; the Managers were forced to run around to cover the public breach in Jujutsu-related secrecy as fast as they could, a herculean task given that half of the forest in that prefecture was burnt down from a lightning bolt from the sky, the main clans were in uproar from such preposterous mismanagement (and political showoff) and the gossip vine were absolutely running with the absolute shitshow caused by Gojo Kakashi. 

And now Yaga has to deal with his truly, unruly, troublesome, pain-in-the-ass student. 

“Come on Yaga-sensei!” The younger Gojo pranced playfully around the older sorcerer, his shades sliding down the bridge of his nose low enough to expose the utter emotions swirling chaotically in those endless blues. “You’ll support me, right? I’m your favourite student after all.”

The only reason why Yaga had not refuted that frankly incorrect information was because he was used to Gojo’s antics and mannerisms long enough to decipher the silent panic and urgency in those honey-coated, self-assured words. 

Instead, Masamichi allowed himself a brief respite by pinching the bridge of his nose, contemplating his options. He was always a man of his principles, grounding them in the way of how the Jujutsu world works and their foundations. 

But he also won’t deny the potential of a student, especially when their entire life depended on it. 

“If. And listen to me. If. Nothing else. If your brother passes through all the examinations –like he was supposed to before you sent him away with the Second Years–” He brought up a hand to silence Gojo when he was about to protest, “Then the school may evaluate him for official registration and enrollment. Do you hear me, Satoru?”

All he received was a wolfish grin, and a flick of a hand. “That’s easy!” Satoru snapped his fingers, positively brimming with confidence. “Kakashi-nii can easily ace all of his tests, just you wait.”

While Satoru’s absolute belief in his sibling is very heartwarming (because the teenager rarely sing praises to anyone else, except in that backhanded way he does to Geto sometimes), Yaga reminded him again, that Kakashi would only be able to enrol if he ace all of his assessments, by himself. First was in academics, considering Kakashi has never received any formal education, not even from the clan, so in this regard, Yaga was a bit worried for the boy. He would be a bit behind, not only in terms of age, where he was three years older than the Second Years, but also the possibility of being overwhelmed by the amount of curriculum he had missed. 

Satoru was serious when he said, “Not a worry, sensei, I’ll help him out in this regard.”

“Not by cheating, I suppose?” 

The white-haired teenager shook his head vehemently,  affronted by Yaga even suggesting such a thing. 

Kakashi arrived late to the examination room, the one deliberately arranged only for him, on each and every one of the examination days. Yaga would think that he inherited Gojo’s lacklustre attention to academics, despite the latter’s excellence in it. A shame. He wished that the younger Gojo would take his studies more seriously, and now his brother would maybe suffer from the same lack of diligence. 

The more perplexing thing was that he finished early, much earlier than the completion time. He turned in his papers to Yaga with an awkward smile and a nod, before striding outside to be greeted by a very exuberant brother, who loudly suggested going to eat at a desserts cafe. 

Yaga glanced down at the written answers momentarily before gathering all the papers up. All he saw was indescribable scrawls, but luckily he was not the one who needed to mark them. A fate that he gladly avoided especially when–

“Fuck!”

A sorcerer, who acted more as a normal homeroom teacher to the students than a fighter on the field, hissed out a curse, flinging out the pen that he was holding to mark to the opposite end of the room. He sunk into his chair with a groan, running a hand through his frizzled hair.

Yaga neared him in worry. Misaki rubbed at his eyes, nearly curling into a ball. “What’s the matter?”

“Yaga,” The man howled pathetically, “My eyes are burning!”

Abruptly, the man shoved one of papers that contain Kakashi’s written test answers right at Yaga’s face, showing off the paragraphs of…indescribable slurs of characters blending together in the most inharmonious series of strokes ever. 

“Tell me,” Misaki growled, “That this is not the most atrocious handwriting you have ever seen.” 

Yaga did not tell him so. 

“But that’s not the most infuriating thing, no!” Misaki bemoaned, slamming his head again and again against the desk, before he stopped to glare down at the papers with a certain hatred.

“The most infuriating thing is that he scores perfect marks.”

“What?” was the dumbfounded reply Yaga could give at the moment, especially when Misaki threw the stack of papers at him. They flapped uselessly against his face, and would have scattered to the ground if not for his reflexes. 

“I tried to find fault with any of his answers, but nope!” The man grounched, passing over a slightly crinkled paper, “Despite the chicken scratch scrawl, they're textbook perfect.”

“Exemplary, Exemplary, Exemplary…” Yaga scrolled down the listed subjects; Japanese, Mathematics, Science, perfect marks except for…

“Not exemplary for Geography?” Amusement seeped into his tone as he contemplated the presented grade. Just the one subject that doesn’t have a perfect score.

Misaki shrugged, “Maybe he doesn’t like maps, who knows. Though Kakashi-kun is certainly academically gifted otherwise.” Then, under his breath, “Exactly like his brother.”

Yaga dipped his chin into a nod, placing the document back onto the desk where his companion had squished his cheek, feeling tired eyes following the movement, “Well, he’d proven that he can easily catch up in a normal school, but we’re not exactly a normal school, are we? He still needs to pass–”

Misaki’s head shot up in an adrenaline shot, “Oh yeah, Kakashi’s physical assessment should be right about now, right?I want to see how exactly his technique works,” he pushed himself back from the desk in a rush, piling the papers together in a haphazard pile, “especially since he’s already good enough to kill a First Grade with his asundering abilities.”

“Misaki…” Yaga frowned at him with disapproval, receiving a shrug. “I didn’t think you were the type to gossip.”

“Not my fault that practically everyone is talking about it! Plus, a Gojo, especially one who’s related to the Six Eyes, now that,” A wolfish grin, “Is a show worth watching, don’t cha think?”

Yaga was about to say otherwise, that a potential student was not a circus animal to perform for a show when the door slammed open so hard that it almost flew off its hinges. 

Shiranagi Himeko, a fellow sorcerer, rushed in looking like she had gotten in a brawl with nature during a vicious thunderstorm. She was typically a neat, tidy individual who took great pride in her uniform and reputation as a sorcerer. And right now, she looked anything but the proud First Grade that she was. Her long black hair was shot up everywhere, frazzled and smelt badly of burning sulphur, and there was soot covering the skin of her cheeks and some on her suit. Not only that, but she was also dripping wet somehow, despite looking both electrocuted and burnt. 

“Not a word,” The female sorcerer growled quite ferociously, so the two men did the sane thing of keeping quiet. Himeko then sniffed loudly in contempt, picking up a strand of her hair to peer at it. When she let out a piercing, angry shriek, she zoomed past the two towards where the restrooms were, the two flinching at the flurry of frenzied movements and sharp noises.

“Wasn’t that Himeko, ya know, the one who’s supposed to be doing the assessing bits on Gojo Kakashi’s Jujutsu aptitude?”

“Yes.”

“The same Himeko who’s amongst the top sorcerers? The one who can also go toe-to-toe with several First Grade curses at once? That Himeko?”

“Yes.”

“Huh.”

“...”

“Guess we have another student now, yeah? It’ll be a waste otherwise.”

(“A semi First Grade…huh.” Masamichi examined the Student Card that was finally authorised by the school, at the deadpan, blank expression that Gojo Kakashi was giving towards the camera. Though it was already a fairly high level to be given to a student, it was not an unwarranted one, given his already high, volatile reserve of cursed energy. How interesting, Yaga thought.

How glad, Yaga felt, that that child could finally have a future.)

-x-

Omake: Spill, Spill, Spill, Please Don't Let My Brother Drink (Part One)

-

It was a very interesting thing to watch, the epitome of grace and speed brought down to heel under the influence of alcohol. 

It was particularly interesting to see the influence alcohol has on loosening one's tongue. 

Of course, Gojo Kakashi usually has his reservations and his own secrets to be kept, so he rarely ever consumes alcohol, and if he ever does, it was within a safe location accompanied by his trusted colleagues. It was usually with one Ieiri Shoko and Nanami Kento he drank with, at their little hangout corner that let them book a private room for their convenience. 

It was a simple way to release stress and to catch up in the affairs of other sorcerers.

Kakashi was not a light drinker, but his alcohol tolerance is definitely not a match against either of Shoko or Nanami, both of whom indulged in alcohol far more often than they care to think. Hence, he was usually the first to go down.

And oh boi, when he does let loose, it was typically such a fun time to the sober ones. 

"Do you know that Satoru was such a cute kid~?" Kakashi slurred, a hand whirling the content of the sake cup. His movements were slow, the visible planes of his face flushed, "I mean, he's also adorable right n-now, but he's especially adorable when he was younger."

"Really?" Shoko indulged with a tiny smirk, exchanging amused looks with Nanami. Looks like it's story time with Gojo Kakashi. "Sounds like a stretch." Gojo takes care of his beauty really seriously, with a strict weekly schedule of spas and skincare routine taken personally care of.

"Maybe cuz of me, ya know?" Kakashi laughed like windchimes, "Maybe cuz I used to feed him snacks a lot, but–"

He gestured towards his face.

"Satoru used to have very chubby cheeks."

"Veryyy chubby cheeks," Kakashi repeated, clearly reinstating how important this point was, "And he was like a bunny, with big blue eyes and white skin–"

Shoko heard Nanami snorting politely at the description.

"--When in actuality, he was like a squirrel, which is just as cute, don't get me wrong–"

"And when he eats, he stuffed them in his cheeks, like this," Kakashi stimulated by puffing out his own, albeit somewhat restricted by his crooked mask. "All the snacks I gave him, poof, goes into storage~"

Nanami was shaking passively in his seat, an impressive feat given that his own expression was neutral and uncaring as he calmly sipped at his whiskey. 

Shoko does not know whether the man was affected by the imagery of kid Gojo acting as a squirrel storing his nuts for the winter or Kakashi re-enacting the image himself, though she strongly suspects the latter. 

She lifted her drink, invested in listening to the rambling of a man gushing about his brother because, hey, blackmail on the great Gojo Satoru.

And what a cute blackmail material it was.

"They were very soft, ya' know. Like tofu. So puffy, so red when you squished them."

"That's why sometimes, when he misbehave, I call him, and he hates it despite it being the absolute truth–" Kakashi chugged down his cup before beaming very very brightly that literal stars flew from him, 

"Sa-tofu~"

He passed out directly afterwards on the table, missing Nanami and Shoko chortling into their drinks, their figures shaking in laughter.

("Heyo, Sa-tofu~"

"Aiyo, what the fuck, where did you–")

-x-

Extra Omake: Something’s Wrong, I Can Feel It

-

As a great and all-around awesome teacher, Satoru knew and could tell straightaway that Yuuji was apprehensive throughout the week that led up to the commemoration of the Kyoto Sister event, despite his outfront of cheeriness that he put up in front of him, Kakashi and Nanami. 

Which is why he proposed the surprise; stuff Yuuji in a box as a simple, prompt way of reunification between friends after a death. How touching it would be! 

Plus, it was a great, lighthearted way to distract Yuuji from the clusterfuck of that last mission.

Granted, Nobara and Megumi did not look too impressed by the act, but heh, tough crowd. He knew deep down, they were really glad that Itadori was alive, especially Megumi, despite his attempt to look unaffected. No one as young as they should have to go through the pain of loss, especially that of a beloved classmate. Either through death or desertion.

…

Well anyway, the First-Years were all back together, and Satoru got to rub in the Higher-ups’ wrinkly old faces of the fact that he, once again, had managed to gain triumph over their schemes. 

Except there’s this itch, that kept nagging at him–

“Will you stop?” 

“Stop what?” In the middle of giving the Kyoto students those souvenirs he binge-bought from Hokkaido, Satoru smiled widely at Utahime, whose face contorted into a delightful mix of exasperation and disgust. Honestly, if her reactions weren’t so good, then Gojo would not have antagonised her so much. Probably.

*twitch* 

Satoru wanted to backtrack to the lounge, because the nagging feeling was now turning into a loud churning ringing of his ears. His instincts and senses were going haywire, telling him that something was wrong.

Someone was–

Someone was looking, no, even beyond that–

Kakashi-nii.

“Gojo, you’re snarling.” 

“Hahahahaha, am I? I’m not. No souvenirs for you, Utahime~” He got a bristled “I don’t want any anyway!” from her, a marvellous reaction that he would usually revel in any other day, but a flare from his instinct made him stop between a high-pitched jest, prompting him to jerk his shoulders awkwardly. Utahime looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but didn’t pursue, maybe thinking that it was a blessing instead that allowed her a second of peace.  

He turned to Yaga-sensei and Principle Gakuganji, the latter predictably not pleased with the whole Ryomen Sukuna’s vessel was actually alive and all that yada yada blah blah blah. As if Satoru cares about the feelings of the higher-ups when most of them care not for the students beyond their capabilities as sorcerers. So when Satoru dipped back at the old coot, cooing that he was surprised that Gakuganji didn’t fall dead from a heart attack right there and then, it was a verryyyyy satisfying feeling. 

It was a marvellous day, all in all, worth it despite him knowing that Yaga was going to get back at him for being such a gorgeous, awesome (his words) menace, hiding important stuff behind him again.

Now if only–

*twitch* *twitch* *twitch*

“Gojo-sensei is behaving…well I would say weird but he’s already weird before but now…” Nobara whispered non-discreetly to Megumi, who wanted nothing to do with explaining their abnormal teacher’s weird sporadic movement. And he was about to tell her so when suddenly Gojo-sensei was locked in place, frozen in the middle of a gleeful twist. His long fingers flexed and relaxed like an animal flexing its claws, teeth bared with sharp fangs.

“Who dares–” Gojo-sensei’s lips changed from a smile to a snarl, and he whirled on the spot to regard something on the horizon, figure stiff and ready to break into a run. And Megumi suspected he would have done so, if Yaga-sensei, a brave soul, had not taken it upon himself to stand in front of the charging brocon bear, his own figure big and imposing with crossed arms. Gojo-sensei twitched minutely, before deceptively relaxing into his usual cheerful facade. He smiled just a tad bit maniacally at his former teacher. 

“Excuse me, Yaga-sensei, I think I might have forgotten something so lemme just–” A heavy jerk of his body again with a deep growl in between. It was very off-putting that he was still grinning while looking like he was jumping out of his skin every second. “Something veryyyy important, so– WHOWHOWHOWHODARESILLKILL–” 

The students, both of the Tokyo and Kyoto factions watched as Principle Yaga was able to calmly chokehold the notorious Gojo Satoru just as he leapt halfway into the air, catching him midway throughout a long-winded wail about the disturbance in the force, limbs flailing. 

“It’s even weirder.” Nobara concluded aimlessly, in the middle of her own choking of Itadori Yuuji, who threw her an ignored, petulant pout under her grip. 

Megumi casted a low, mournful look at the brown-haired girl, as if to say, you have no idea. 

-x-

Author's Note:

(1) The meatballs mentioned in Megumi's section are of Yuuji's own recipe, Chicken Ginger Meatballs. He canonically made it multiple times, and even taught it to Megumi, who said that it was a such a simple recipe that even he could make. That's why he said the meatballs in Kakashi's hot pot seems familiar. This is also a legit recipe that you can look up online. 

(2) The part where there were comparisons between the Occular Kekkei Genkai and the Six Eyes are indeed made from surface-level observations made from the similarities between the bloodlines. This is a bullshit section made purely from the author, so please take them with a grain of salt as always. 

(3) The aforementioned novel series, "Mid-June Summer" does not exist in real life. It is a fictional series inside a fictional series. It is a cheesy romantic comedy that Kakashi tries to replace Icha-Icha with, mostly because modern society Japan does not take reading porn in public too kindly.

(4) Kakashi's meals are indeed a valuable form of currency inside the Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu High School. They are rare mostly because of Kakashi's own schedule, and he mostly only cooks for Satoru, Megumi, and Shoko (who receives them as payment from the treatments she'd done on Kakashi, and may or may not have started the currency to make people not skip medical checkups, an irony).

(5) Fushiguro Tsumiki is Fushiguro Megumi's stepsister, who in the manga has suffered from an unfortunate fate. Here however, she is a happy, non-sorcerer, living her full student life in a private school, thanks to the extra pair of eyes looking over the Fushiguro.   

(6) There is indeed a bet that is going on, one that shall be unravelled in future chapters, huehuheuhue, though you can easily figure this one out~

(7) Iori Utahime is 31 years old while Gojo Satoru is 28 years old, so by extension, she is a year older than Kakashi (30 years old).

-

Kakashi and his atrocious handwriting is definitely one of my fav's fanon of all time, up there with dogteeth Kakashi (definitely one of Kishimoto's mistake not to make this canon) and perpetually-late-paperwork-hazard Kakashi~ I have a friend whose handwriting I literally cannot read, and everytime there's a handwritten test, our homeroom teacher would be so stressed out because one, she legit can't read my friend's, and two, mine is somehow a small-sized handwriting that is both italics and bold at the same time, which made it hard to read as well. Good times. 

Oh yeah, another funny, story that happened;

Me: (puts two pictures side-by-side, one of Satoru and one of Kakashi) Spot the difference.

Friend A and Friend B: They're both the same picture. 

Legit, they have a hard time distinguishing Satoru and Kakashi from each other, which is why I made it a joke in the fic where it's suppose to be a secret that Kakashi is Satoru's brother, but anyone who sees them side-by-side for two seconds could easily tell that they're related. So yeah. A hopefully, harmless joke. 

If you're wondering, yes, during that whole bit with Nanami and Kakashi, Satoru's brocon instincts were flaring so hard he was twitching. (But he couldn't leave because Yaga was already tearing him a new one because of the whole Itadori being alive thing), press F for the 190cm idiot.

Overprotective feral Kakashi, overprotective feral Kakashi- (ﾉﾟ▽ﾟ)ﾉ

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: Heaven Has No Rage Like Love to Hatred Turned

“Kakashi-san, have you ever heard of the Hanahaki disease?”

The brown-haired girl, who had introduced herself as Ieiri Shoko, a teammate of his brother, twirled with a strand of her bangs as she brought over a clipboard stacked with a pile of paper. She pulled over a chair, and despite her frivolity that she was outwardly showing, her movements were stiff as she mulled over the contents of the documents she was reading. The deep circles under her eyes were more prominent under the bright midday light, telling of her sleepless nights.

Kakashi, who was doped out of his mind, glanced back at her from where he lay sprawled under the white bedsheets, tracing the visible specks of dust in the air with nary half a mind. His chest felt lighter, breathing has never been easier. He took a deep mouthful of oxygen, letting his breath hiss through his covered lips in a sleepy manner.

“Hmm?”

Shoko took his reaction as a supposed ‘no’, and sighed, crossing her legs. Kakashi thinks that he should pay attention to this sudden seriousness from the girl, for she was usually stoic and  carefree, almost joyful whenever she prodded Kakashi during their medical sessions together. So, despite the jellyness of his elbows, he pushed himself into a sitting position, blinking away the colourful dots from his eyes. 

Shoko sat still for a too-long minute, observing Kakashi akin to a hawk. It would have sent Kakashi’s skin crawling if he wasn’t out of it. Abruptly, in a fluid motion, she reached over to the medical cabinet located right beside her, shuffling through its contents. 

The female sorcerer continued, “Hanahaki. Supposedly a fictional disease, depicting an individual coughing out…flowers. Typically it’s due from one-sided love, but there’s more than that being the only defining factor. In fact, it is the heartache that comes from the experience. Heartache so intense that it would physically harm you. For you to be coughing from Hanakotoba-related disease, well, your heartache has to be pretty bad, huh?”

“...Hmm.” Kakashi pretended to be lost, to which Shoko already figured out, by her raised brow. Honestly, the amount of times a medical personnel was able to see through his bullshit is insurmountable, but he was going to keep trying anyway. 

“Kakashi-san, you know how curses come to be, yeah?”

“An accumulation of negative emotions, born from human vices.” The automatic reply fell easily from his lips. He wasn’t a sorcerer, but Satoru was. So he kept up with the knowledge as well as he could. 

The answer seemed satisfactory enough to Shoko, who nodded.

“...I’ll cut to the chase. Your emotions. They’re the one causing these flowers to cultivate and bloom inside you. Or rather…”

“Your shame. Your sadness. Your despair. These flowers. They’re feeding on those strong emotions, acting as fertilisers, for the lack of a proper term. Your body is frankly, a natural seabed of curses. Your vices are so strong, intense to the point they’re affecting you physically, causing these flowers to take root.”

A momentary silence befell them.

“If you repress them, then it is going to be worse. Much worse.” Shoko let out a sigh, tucking a band of hair behind an ear. Finally, she presented the sealed medical bag to him, its contents immediately apparent through its translucency.

A clump of Marigolds and Dianthus stared back at him. They were beautiful, yet if one were to look at them closely, one could see that they held little specks of blood at the edge of their petals and pistils, sullying their natural beauty. 

Kakashi’s breath hitched, held and released. He did not want to acknowledge them, yet here they were. There were a few times in his life where he had coughed out the whole damn things, enough to fill out a vase, covered with bile and coagulated blood. And immediately after, when he’s lucid from the pain, he would burn them with a small fire technique to erase the evidence. He had already troubled everyone with how sick he always was, he needed not to add anymore. Especially of a curse due to his own making. 

Still, those moments when his chest felt slightly lighter. It was from little Satoru inflicting Limitless upon him, wasn’t it? Giving his body some slight respite from the cursed buds that were blooming from his misery.

“...In any case, it was somewhat good timing on Gojo’s part to bring you here to me. Rarely anyone has the natural ability to mould Reversed energy like I do, even that walking diabete on legs have to try , for once.” A soothing hand, placed itself on his chest, and to prove her point, the lingering aches gradually soothes away with each pulse of her technique, counteracting the existence of the cursed flowers rooted in his lungs.

Shoko’s tone was contrastingly light to her words.  “...A week sooner, and you would have died.”

The unbiased truth of that statement hit Kakashi, but he knows it was not out of surprise. 

Kakashi feigned further obliviousness, knowing how goddamn awful he had felt during the last week. “Is that so?”

“You know, and don’t ever tell Gojo this, because I wouldn’t hear the end of it, but,” Shoko sounded subdued, and after she laid down the clipboard on her lap, her brown, deep eyes met Kakashi without any restrain, any glacial facade melting into honest concern and amiability.

“I consider Gojo as one of my close friends. Despite how annoying he is at times.”

“So believe me, if you were to…well, not be here anymore, then…I think it would crush him.”

“It won’t.” The words fell from his lips almost instantly, like his horned instincts befell him to deny any importance to himself. He winced visibly afterwards, especially when the other gave him a once, long look, punctuated deeply with a stern frown that was full of doubt and…pity. Kakashi looked away, forcing himself to erase any emotions from his face, an effort that was more than he had expected, with his chest thumping almost painfully. 

The seconds ticked past, before Shoko leaned back with a slight sigh. “I won’t pry needlessly. But I need to. Kakashi-san…the reason why you’re still suffering. Your physiology is well, frankly, bad, and it is certainly due to backhand genetics, but that’s not the only case contributing to your deteriorating health. Your cursed energy. There's a lot of reasons why you have a high amount of reserve. You…what you think of yourself…certainly contributed to some of it.” 

Shoko did not continue, though she did not need to, for Kakashi had already connected the dots. 

Why am I here?

Why am I still alive?

Even before he had the Sharingan (given, stolen , taken), he was blessed with having a near photographic memory, a boon that accelerated his growth and graduation from the Ninja Academy. 

He used to be happy that he was so gifted. Just a glance, and he got everything memorised, the academy books, notes and scrolls that he used to take a peek at in Sakumo’s study room made easy for the young prodigy. Except it certainly didn’t help him when–

Father…?

The blood that dripped across the floorboards was weird in shape, dripping through the old floorboards that made the Hatake estate. It was pouring heavily, heavy clouds hanging overhead casting a dark grey that covered the earth. The winds were howling, thunder rumbling in the distance. A particular flash that illuminated his Father’s (the traitor of the Ninja Code) broken, self-mutilated body curling upon itself, a slackened hold upon the bloodied family heirloom that Kakashi later had to hold, wield. 

With Sakumo’s death, came the death of Kakashi’s childhood as well. With Sakumo’s death, all Kakashi had was his memories, a bloodied tanto, and the set of Ninja Code that he vowed to follow lest he would be erased as well. Nobody told him he was wrong despite their harsh criticism of his strictness for the code. 

Until–

“I believe that he was a true hero. The White Fang.”

When he heard that, the words that he wanted to be true despite the feelings that he should not, that he secretly wanted other people to say it, the very foundation of his beliefs crumbled. Shaken. By the one who had shown him that Kakashi’s value of humanity still holds worth, that Sakumo was not wrong, and that Kakashi wouldn’t be wrong as well. And Obito had paid for it with his own life.

Not once but twice. Even when he had lost his light, even when Kakashi had broken his word to protect the person Obito loved in his stead, he still…stood in front of Kakashi, offering a wispy smile that didn’t reach his eyes as he took the attack that had been meant for Kakashi. Even when he was crumbling away from Madara's All-killing Ash bones technique, he made Kakashi promise a promise that he still couldn’t keep. 

“Please…continue to see the future for me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi muttered to the sky, broken inside and outside. His life was not worth that of his student, so when forced between saving himself or Sakura when Madara targeted them both, the choice was obvious to him. 

Naruto, Sasuke and Sakura…they’ve all grown up. They were the protector of the future now. Though he himself couldn’t see it with them…certainly, they could stand up to Madara, even with all the Bijuu on his side. They have to. Kakashi was not abandoning them. 

(Except what exactly was he doing there, laying in a pool of his own blood when his students were fighting to save the world?)

…He wondered if he could reach them. His tool pouch. He only has his right arm left, certainly he could inch the last bits of his fingers. Certainly he could. There was nothing of Obito himself left, his ashes already blown away by the hot winds and the tumultuous shockwaves of the ongoing battle, but Kakashi still have–

He choked on his blood. And the last thing he heard was—

…

Memories. Hatake Kakashi had remained, when all else had not. When all of the reminder of his old life hit Gojo Kakashi, he had froze, barely two, accompanied with stinging regrets so strong that he fell to his knees, vomiting all over his pillow. There were tears, though he had released no noise, suffering in utter silence in the dead of night, ghosts muttering in his ears and the decrepitating buzzing of lightning coated with blood still staining skin deep. 

He…Someone like him shouldn’t have been given this chance at life. Except…

Baby blue eyes stared at him with curiosity, then wonder, then with (undeserved) adoration and love.

He wanted to be saved. He wanted to stay. 

Are you worthy of such selfishness? For all that you are, a composition of singing regrets and sins of blood…

What makes you think you’re allowed to demand anything –

Kakashi lurched forward, foul liquid in his throat. He plastered a palm to his mouth to keep from spilling, but inside, something burned at the pit of his stomach, and it made itself known up his windpipe and throat, the taste of putrid acid made worse with the hint of nectar piling on top. He couldn’t stop it anymore, muscles protesting each halted heave. Every cough was an endless, futile battle for air, his eyes watering as he shook and rattle like a newborn calf. He spat, bled and hurled crimson, enough to stain the white linen, a defilement made by his own being.

How fitting. A perfect analogy for a Friend Killer such as himself. He licked his teeth, tasting iron and the familiar tinge of floral sweetness as his lungs burned, beads of sweat making his hair stick uncomfortably to his skin. 

Kakashi only noticed Shoko’s hands upon him when she moved away with a dour, grim expression. She opened her mouth seemingly to comment, but retracted midway, so she just hanged there kind of awkwardly, waiting for the other to speak instead. 

“Don’t tell Satoru,” was his first response, and it was delivered with a raspy, scratchy tone, befitting of a man laying bare before a trial. 

Shoko snapped her head towards Kakashi so fast that the man could joke that her neck was snapped if he had the mood for it, her widened eyes and ajar mouth indicating her utter incredulity at Kakashi’s words. Her brows set, rose in surprise before settling in neutral fascination.

“You are an idiot,” Shoko’s verdict honestly instils fear at the insinuation that she will tell Satoru, and Kakashi couldn’t help but shrink back a little for fear of disappointing someone close to him, once again. Shoko noticed this, and her expression softened just a bit, lips tugged less intensely. That still does not dismiss the bite of her remark however. “An honest, truly to god, a goddamn idiot. Even if I were to withhold this information from Gojo, he’ll find out sooner or later, considering how his eyes are literally the sharpest amongst mere mortals. And it will crush him right then as it would right now. That his brother literally kept the symptoms of his would-be death from him.”

Shoko saw the wince, riddled deep with guilt and more self-loathing, before sighing. Her smaller fingers grasped the sachet of rotting flowers held in Kakashi’s slackened hold, tracing each petals with delicate precision of a medical personnel. When she had agreed with Gojo to take a look at his brother’s condition (and he had given her very hopeful eyes as he did so, so how the hell was she supposed to refuse the abrupt, seldom earnestness from Gojo of all people?), she never expected this much of a basket. 

“Considering your reaction, I presume you already know why.” Shoko stated, her voice a mere whisper through the rushing of blood in Kakashi’s ears. “I won’t ask why you think of yourself this way, I can only offer periodic advice on emotional self-control. And when I meant by that, it is to not withdraw into a shell like you’re trying to do right now.” Shoko put down her clipboard, and gave Kakashi a very long penetrative stare. At his slumped shoulder, and that faraway, dazed stare drilling holes at the linen, she decided that it would be a hassle and a half, but she would do the best she could. So peculiar for her, who would always maintain some distance, she grasped Kakashi’s bony fingers with her own, noting the moonlight paleness of someone who has been kept indoors for far too long, and the lingering currents of his cursed energy that hummed in his veins.

Shoko kindly advised, “Just know, if you keep going this way, it’s literally going to eat you up from the inside for as long as you live.” Kakashi’s glassy ashy orbs followed the movements of her fingers as she traced the side of his joint, and she wondered what he was thinking, because right now, he appeared much much older than the measly two years between their age. 

“For now, just think about what you can do.”

…

Shoko then left, probably to give Kakashi some space and time to think. But the silence of the still air in the infirmary had never felt so loud to Kakashi. His thoughts have never felt so loud, screaming. 

…What could he do, huh?

Kakashi knows. 

He can’t be late, never again. 

Never again, like his students, Kakashi can’t fail again –

Don’t break a single promise ever again. He snorted to himself. A lying failure, through and through.

Kakashi gave a slight, strained grin at the corner, at the hallucination that he knew that had been watching him since a few days ago. How deep does his longing run for his mind to conjure an image of the man who he knew hated, despised him? He was pathetic, unsightly. He thumbed the flowers with petals the colour of his hero , despite all he claimed to be, hooded eyes still locking gaze with the mirage, which drew so close he could smell soot and saccharine. 

Isn’t that right…Obito?

.

.

.

“Nii-san.”

Satoru caught up with him easily, long legs matching Kakashi’s fast strides in equal tandem. They both barreled straight towards the designated arena, twisting through the makeshift labyrinth of traditional buildings that laid the outskirts of the school. The older man was this close to utilising the right half of Kamui, just to phase through any physical barrier to reach his destination faster. But he knew that pushing his limits this early was unwise, especially since his reserve was still recovering. And considering there was somehow a curse that got past the barrier of the school–

Inside, his stomach was rolling, as if there was an ocean. It was only due to his experience as a former ANBU, those years as a killing machine that forced him into his emotionless state rearing its ugly head, though at this instance, it was helpful in preventing blind panic in his distress. A sudden danger, inside the school, where it should have been safe , where the kids should have been safe –

Satoru prompted his name again, and he responded. 

“A Special Grade.” His own voice sounded mechanical even to his own ears, but beneath, there was an undertone of an animalistic ferocity, deep and guttural. “It came out of nowhere, and its presence alone was enough to take my Shadow Clone out. The kids, they–” He casted a side glance towards his brother, the Sharingan blazing to life to its pinwheel form. “Satoru, go on ahead. You alone could…” They sped through an alleyway, kicking up gravel in their haste. 

Satoru did not question him, but rather kicked up speed so that he was way ahead, mouth set in a grim line. Through the howling of the wind in his ears as he pushed everything that he had into his legs, he deciphered Utahime’s voice calling out to them from a distance behind them, who was in turn, followed closely by Gakuganji. 

“Gojo, up there! That’s–”

In the horizon, a ripple of darkness sludged from the sky, cascading down in a dome. A Curtain. It alone was enough of an indication that the Special Grade was not the only thing that they need to worry about, they have to watch out for Curse Users as well. Satoru’s hunch was right on the dime; there are rogue sorcerers working with the Curse Spirits. Never have the phrase ‘The Enemy of My Enemy is My Friend’ simulated the present situation in all its grim fact. Though as of now, to directly attack the school, their goal is unclear, suicidal even. 

“It’s already in effect,” Satoru stated grimly, and knowing this unfortunate information, they both skidded to a halt inches in front of the barrier just as its visual effect touched the ground. This close, its surface rippled and inked, and a Curtain’s effect goes way and beyond surface-level, embedded deep down into the ground. The barrier blocked everything beyond sight, and even scents, only vague outlines made available thanks to Kakashi’s active Sharingan.

Satoru reached out a hand, touching the barrier directly to destroy it. “Well, this kind of technique is useless against me anyway. Just a blast and—Ouch!”

An erratic jerk as Satoru pulled back his arm, almost in surprise and…and pain. Kakashi looked over to him in alarm; the skin of his palm was practically smoking and sizzling as the barrier completely rejected him… which was a completely alarming thought as it should be impossible. To be able to repel something as powerful as the Six Eyes…

Such skills were unheard of in the modern Jujutsu era. 

Utahime and Gakuganji arrived at the scene just as Kakashi finished inspecting Satoru’s already healed hand, and Utahime’s expression was one of pure concern, not for Satoru, but for the students as Satoru didn’t manage to make it inside. Neither of them did.

Utahime looked like she had to physically prevent herself from cursing. Kakashi almost as well, the sense of dread and trepidation building in his veins so thick that he let it out in the least destructive way he could right then.

With an inaudible growl, the tips of Kakashi’s finger glowed blue with a crackle, and he narrowed his discreetly-activated Sharingan to train unto the weaving formulae that fabricate the barrier, intending to figure and untangle them by force. Even if he should be hurt and rejected in this endeavour, he had to, for every second count with the students being trapped inside with a Special Grade cursed being out of all things.

To their surprise, his hand got through with ease, nothing, not even a sting of pain was felt.

Utahime quickly followed his stead, and her hand too was able to go through, rippling around the barrier like a sludge. She threw Satoru a perplexed expression, laced with heavy confusion, “Wait, why can’t you go through?”

The tall figure of the Six Eyes stared blankly at Utahime for a moment before breaking into a loud laugh and a crazed grin. “Oh, this is so fucking good! Our adversaries sure know their stuff! This,” He jerked his head to the curtain, full of teeth, “Is an all out attempt capable of doing what the unthinkable~”

“At the cost of keeping Gojo Satoru out, it allows every other person to come and go as they please.”

The Law of Equivalent Exchange. At what price does it take to prevent the Strongest sorcerer alive, the wielder of the Six Eyes, from entering the battlefield? At everything else being able to come and go as they please. The balance of gives and takes is achieved. 

But a curtain capable of doing so…Utahime had reached the same conclusion as Kakashi did. 

“Someone has quite the info on us.” The spy was what Satoru didn’t say out loud. 

Gakuganji stepped forward, brandishing the duffel bag on his back, presumably a store for his cursed instrument. “Nevertheless, let us hurry to the students’ aid. This is unfortunate, but it is still not the worst outcome.”

For once, Satoru agreed, though it displeased him so. “Yeah, Utahime, Old man, go on ahead. You too, Nii-san.”

Despite his earlier rush, Kakashi stood beside his younger brother as they contemplated the barrier that was able to deny Satoru and only Satoru entrance. A truly remarkable feat, one that had Kakashi mulling in silence at the cards that had been thrown at them. He wished he could stay and help chip away at it, but even a Shadow clone right now might cost him later. There was the slightest fizzle of a burn nipping at his heart and at his heels, a sign that he needed to go. Now . 

Still, it did not stop him from glancing at his brother, “Satoru…”

“I know.” Satoru replied with the same bout of solemnity, his mask of frivolousness falling flat now that Utahime and Gakuganji were gone. “But every technique has a weakness, and this one is no different. Especially for me.”

He pulled away his black blindfold, and the brilliance of the Six Eyes was made known to the Heavens, bright and glittering with might, power that was deemed on the scale of everything else.  

“Go help the students. And don’t worry, I won’t miss a time to show off to Nii-san after all~” Satoru cracked his knuckles together in a show of dramatical flourish. 

The younger offered his brother a wolfish smile, wide enough to show his gums as he expected a reprimand or the sorts for wanting to uphand at such a time. 

But instead, he got a sombre expression, grim but soft with careful apprehension and fondness as his brother, Kakashi, reached out to ruffle his hair in such a way that sent his forehead bangs askew in every direction like he had just risen in bed. A typical gesture coming from Kakashi, but it made Satoru’s breath catch in his throat. 

“Be careful, Satoru.” The words were delivered firmly as Kakashi’s crimson gaze hardened into a fervour blaze, a sentiment that only he, as his brother, was able to utter without any hint of ludicrousy nor mockery for The Strongest. An earnest, honest wish, one that had Satoru speechless for a second, lost at the utter warmth that lingered in stormy greys. 

Even after all these years, at times, he was still taken aback by it. 

Satoru then spent a few seconds staring blankly at where the form of his brother had rippled through the Curtain, a hand placed precisely on the crown of his head, reminiscing the weight that had just been there.

A slow, genuine smile bloomed as he giggled minutely to himself. Satoru’s palm rested on the stresses, cheeks red, eyes closed momentarily in joy before azure blues snapped open with a burning determination. 

“You curses picked the wrong day to mess with us, huh.”

Satoru’s brother was here with him after all. 

—

Clap. Clap. Clap . 

“Brother!” 

Todo Aoi turned slightly to exchange a hidden wink with Yuuji. 

Another swap then. Yuuji braced himself, letting the tandem of the battle carry him forward to the point he was no longer thinking, just following his body and instincts. There was a rush of air, a rush of adrenaline boiling in his blood as Todo Aoi activated his Cursed Technique, Boogie Woogie, before Yuuji found his surroundings changing. Raw cursed energy pooling in his fists, Yuuji’s world blurred and he found himself face-to-face with the Special Grade –Hanami, was the name that it introduced itself with, striking another Black Flash directly in its gut, the exportinant force flinging it directly across the field, where Todo had caught it in another Black Flash, the lightning rippling with strength.

Hanami slammed into the ground, but emerged from the crater relatively unscratched, already recovered enough to immediately send Todo flying back to Yuuji with a sweep of its arm. 

“Tsk.” Yuuji exchanged a glance with Todo, who shifted. Another then. 

Maybe Yuuji had gotten a little bit too cocky, or maybe the curse had just gotten just the tiniest bit smarter. It anticipated the switch this time, and it caught Yuuji with protruding branches that wound around his fist when Yuuji tried to deliver, and it was with a silent grin that Hanami catapulted him over into another wave of cursed roots intended to run him through.

Unexpectedly, the intertwining branch that just was about to smash into Yuuji was swept away, by another set of roots, albeit drastically different, that cradle around his body as gently as they could when they caught and carried him back to Todo. Yuuji would have appreciated it, if it didn’t feel too mushy and slimy to the touch, leaving globs of slime on his uniform. 

Somehow, the slimy wooden tendril was familiar. 

“Phew,” Someone said. “Made it in time.”

Yuuji turned towards the source of the voice, eyes wide with relief and surprise. “Kakashi-san!”

The man in question landed gracefully next to him and Todo, giving a cheerful little wave as if he was just stopping by on a field trip. Yuuji wanted to relax because Kakashi-san being here means that they’re no longer cut off from the outside, and the other teachers would be able to come help, but his muscles seized up, sweat running down the side of his cheek as he remembered how beat up all the others were before Yuuji and Todo came. 

“Kakashi-san, Fushiguro and the others, they were injured! You need to–” 

Kakashi-san stepped forward, and his eyes raked down his and Todo’s admittedly scuffed forms, presumably for their own injuries, “Don’t worry, they’re being escorted straight to the infirmary for immediate treatment, the major ones that I couldn’t attend to anyway. They’re in good hands.” 

That honestly made Yuuji even more worried, his mind zeroing on the ‘major’ part of the injuries. Dammit, why couldn’t he have arrived sooner? Fushiguro had looked pretty beaten up when he was being carried away by Panda. Maki-senpai as well. Shit. He could have gotten here faster–

“You two did great, holding back the Special Grade by yourselves.” Kakashi-san was saying. “And you, Todo-kun, thanks for assisting Yuuji. In more ways than one.”

The broad, muscled student from Kyoto let out a loud laugh, giving the man an enthusiastic thumbs up and sunny beam, a contrast to how his usually intimidating looks. “Anything for my brother! We’ve gone through so much together since Junior High, our bond is unshakeable!” 

Brother? Kakashi shot a questioning glance at Yuuji, who merely shrugged. He didn’t think Yuuji had ever met Todo before. 

Todo’s expression suddenly sombered. “Although…the fact that you’re really here means that it’s quite dire. That one is an unregistered Special Grade, isn’t it?”

“You’re very sharp.” Kakashi-san moved to stand in front of them, what little revealed of his face serious and stoic. With one swift movement, he pulled out a kunai from one of his pouches, holding it in front of him before calling out, with a tilt of his head, “Your opponent is me and only me, Special Grade.”

Hanami’s bulky humanoid form emerged from the other end, and its voice reverberated in his mind in response, “...Another one of you. I do not mind. The children are fine fighters, but though I have felt thrilled, I am not yet satiated.” It flexed its fingers.

“You two have done great, but for now, pull back.” Kakashi ordered, “Leave this to me.”

“Eh, but Kakashi-san, wouldn’t it be better if all of us work together?” Strength in numbers after all. Plus, they could easily box the curse in and finish it off once and for all. 

Kakashi offered him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, the irises the colour of molten ash. There was something off about them. “I know. But with the way I am right now…I can’t guarantee you not being hurt by my own attacks.”

“Huh? What do you mean–?”

“Brother. Let him be.” Todo clasped a hand on Itadori’s shoulder with a grim look. He could sense the tumultuous cursed energy just waiting to be erupted. He could not blame Itadori however, he appeared to be close to the man. 

But he was not there during the event of last year, during the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons. The same kind of rage that coursed thinly in the man’s cursed energy was almost a reflection of that night. He had said to Itadori before that rage was not for him, a trigger typically causing a mishandle of cursed energy, but for this man…it was a calamity. 

Todo tried to urge his friend as soon as he saw the frustration knitted in his brows, “Just maintain some distance, brother. There is a reason. Trust your brother and friend.” The other was still unhappy with the decision, but accepted it. Together, they skidded back, leaving the silver-haired to confront the cursed being.

The wind picked up.

…

“A Special-Grade coming and crashing into the heart of Tokyo Metropolitan School of Curses…” The silver-haired sorcerer smiled, but no warmth existed in his eyes as he regarded the curse with all of his attention. “Certainly, you’ve got a lot of nerves.”

Hanami tensed. 

Absolutely, this man is–

Gojo Satoru? No, the barrier was still up. Plus, this presence, it’s much different than the time when he had rescued Jougo–

“Well, I honestly don’t mind, it just makes it much easier for Satoru and I to eliminate you. But barging in here, attacking the students–”

Thunder flashed and sparked in the sorcerer’s hand, the sound of it roaring to life with a screech. 

And the eyes. Of deep red and swirling tomoe, akin to magatamas. Hanami saw his own reflection in crimson pools, its depth foreshadowing his future. And in his future, there was–

Death.

“You’ve doomed your fate, Special Grade.”

.

.

Kakashi observed the floral cursed spirit with a vigilant sharp gaze, finally able to unload the heavy sigh of relief that had been building in his throat. Now that he knows that most of the students are out of the danger zone, his mind was able to clear slightly. He assessed the situation, and, with it, a main question was aroused.  

What are they after? Kakashi sneaked a glance at Yuuji standing away in the distance, a safe enough point where he knew the boy would not be caught in the ensuing fight. Sukuna’s vessel? Certainly they had more than enough time to do what they wanted with the strawberry-haired teenager. And yet, other than this ensuing scuffle, there was no serious harm that befell the teenager. On any of the kids. Judging from the cursed spirit’s immense presence, it was certainly capable enough to kill. Serious harm, yes, but there has been no losses. 

A hidden goal? A misdirection?

Thus, mustering enough control over his raging reserves, he silently sent a Shadow clone in the opposite direction to scout out any other possible, hidden threats. To divert any attention from his attempt, Kakashi engaged in a casual conversation, though he was itching to tear it apart from the audacity of daring to attack the cute little students. Responding to his desire, he felt Mokuton curling beneath his feet, and as incomplete as it was, it was still a powerful, versatile technique.

When Obito had entered into a dormant state inside of him, it was akin to an assimilation, and it was apparent that in doing so, his abilities had been passed down, enabling Kakashi to use them. Or at least some of it. The Sharingan was obvious, flaring to life at day one at the slightest beckon of chakra. The Mangekyo form however was incomplete, despite him having two perfectly functioning eyes.

Once again, though he knew he could not, he tried to utilise the left side of Kamui, the one that he had accustomed to using when he was Hatake Kakashi. But nothing came to be. The long-distance Kamui was inaccessible to him. But the right side, the infamous intangibility that Obito had loved to use (and spam) was an ability that he was able to use, much to his initial confusion. A particularly useful defensive technique on most occasions, but right now, Kakashi wanted nothing more than to rip the space between the curse’s neck clean. 

The Mokuton was another surprise from Obito. The first time, Kakashi had accidentally erupted the whole floor of the infirmary into budding green seedlings when he tried to regulate his chakra and cursed energy after a bad flare. The nature combination of Water with Earth release was a simple concept, but to bring it to life, to fruition, was another matter entirely. Even now, he was experiencing difficulties trying to maintain a solid form of it despite his best. He regularly practised, like that day when he had first met Yuuji, but considering his failures, there was a hidden aspect of it that he thought might be out of his grasp, at least, for the moment. Never had he felt a profound appreciation and respect for Tenzou for being able to master it (and for putting up with Kakashi’s ridiculous requests to build wooden structures for him, like a bench).

Right now, it was doable. Though there was more Water than Earth, which contributed to a bastardised, soggy version of the Mokuton, it would work to his advantage. Especially since he could not use his Domain Expansion, as the technique required him to be at peace of mind, and precise control, something that he could not exactly manage in his current stage.

Lightning sparked as he summoned more from his reserves. Yet when he had readied himself, the curse faltered. 

“You—you—!” Kakashi raised a silent brow at the stammering, but he chose to take advantage of the opening. With a burst of chakra, he shot forward with Lightning Blade intensifying in his palm. Midway, a wall of roots suddenly sprang from beneath, causing him to redirect his strike to cut down the technique. Plants conjured from cursed energy. Hmph. 

“How can you–? How could the sorcerers–” The cursed spirit continued to step back, albeit it continued its assault upon them even when it seemed to be withdrawing, tendrils of roots lashing out. Kakashi countered with his own, using one as a springboard to propel himself towards Hanami, a kunai raised to strike its head. Those vines protruding from its eye sockets were suspicious, a probable weakness in an otherwise durable amour of its physical body. 

The blow never landed; more vines materialised and wrapped around him before he could reach the curse. He tried to break free but they were too strong, like snakes coiling to bite. Unable to move, Kakashi had no choice but to endure their weight for a second before Kamui activated, enabling him to slip through. 

Keep your cool, he reminded himself. It was fine. The students are fine. Stop letting your emotions get the best of you.

“Watch out!” He heard Yuuji’s warning somewhere from his left. 

He brought Lightning blade to life, its shapeless form roaring with condense chakra –-both curse and reverse energy, melding together. With it, he braced himself by leaning into a half-crouch, swinging his hand forward to intercept the attack.

Electricity shot outwards from the momentum, dazzling blue as they raced towards the Special Grade and the tendrils of wood. Their attacks connected midway, resulting in a shockwave that kicked up heavy dust and ruptured the ground into cracks. 

There was no respite. Pulling out a number of kunai, Kakashi threw them forward, coated with his essence. Together, they formed a chain made of lightning, and they cut through the curtain of roots that had surged together in defence of Hanami, who knew of the incoming danger to think of tanking such an attack head-on. He ducked beneath, thinking that it was safe, only to be met with Kakashi’s fist as the silver-haired sorcerer emerged from the ground, the man scoring a couple of solid punches before kneeing Hanami’s abdomen. 

F-fast–! Hanami thought, pulling himself together to counterattack. At first, he had thought that the child sorcerer had activated his switching technique again in assist, but no. 

This was purely the natural speed of the newcomer.

He drew more of his cursed roots, sacrificing their reach and power to enhance their striking speed. Even then, they seemed to pass through the sorcerer unharmed. Like a distant mirage. Mahito had talked about this one, had he not? An unforgettable encounter. Still, surely, he cannot keep up using such a useful ability forever. A downtime maybe…or a distraction.

Hanami has to stall enough to provide Mahito sufficient time to accomplish their goal. And to do that, he considered his options.

“You’re so intent on injuring me,” Hanami said, recomposed enough by now to speak normally. Though his tone was belligerent, wary, “Then let me take that away…” He summoned some of his cursed energy to bring forth Flower Field, a distracting curse that kills the opponents’ drive to fight.

A circle of blooming, succulent flowers surrounded Kakashi, who stood still in the middle of it with a vacant gaze. Hanami readied some Wooden Balls to skew the sorcerer with, but his attempt was halted.

“..Haha.” To Hanami’s surprise, the sorcerer’s shoulders quaked slightly as he…laughed. With a shake of his head, that crimson gaze repositioned itself into a powerful, hooded glare, “An illusion? Against me of all people…”

A pulse of gleaming red. 

“The nerve.”

Ah, there’s no need to restrain myself here, right?

The curtain that was keeping Satoru out. 

Every fibre of his being was itching for the curse’s blood.

The only way to kill a curse is by using a curse after all. 

Shoko’s voice rang distantly in his ears, a hazy memory, Emotional regulation…yeah. To flush out that buildup of cursed essence causing the flowers to take root, a stable method is to not repress them.

Well, the other much faster, much more destructive way is too simply.

Let.

Loose.

The emotions that have been boiling over, stewing, spilled forth.

Now come. 

Yuuji froze, and shivers wrecked his frame. Despite himself, his limbs seized up, joints locked in place and he was sent shivering in one spot. Despite the distance, he could feel it clearly.

Killing intent. Potent. Heavy. 

Raw output of cursed energy visible to the naked eye as they lashed out. There was a maelstrom of it, swirling, churning the air with its presence. A shockwave erupted from beneath Kakashi-san’s feet, dispelling the field of illusion. The illusionary flowers burned, smouldering into wisps. 

Seeing that he needed to disrupt the sorcerer, Hanami threw the Wooden Balls to counter the sudden output of immense pressure. But they were stopped, no, completely disintegrated before they reached the man, having been literally burnt to ashes from the mere proximity of his cursed energy. 

This enormous force. During that fight with Mahito, was he still restraining himself? Now with the scent of ozone, there was also a deep undertone of smog, of smoke and —madness.

The unearthly power of this man was the stuff of nightmares. He had unleashed the full force of his strength, without restraint or control. And now he was fully in sync with the cursed energy to which he had given such an extensive amount of attention over time.

Hanami's limbs trembled in place, being temporarily overwhelmed. He felt like he couldn't breathe. It was almost too much for him. His mind was unable to comprehend what he was seeing. This level of power… Again, how could the humans have allowed this… this , to mingle within their ranks?

Hanami could not even begin to fathom how a mere mortal could wield such an absurdly high quantity of cursed energy. There was something else here besides his strength. Something beyond the physical. Something even beyond time. Hanami was hardly given any more time to process the new stimulation upon his senses, as with a visible exhale, the sorcerer materialised directly in front of him, nearly catching Hanami off guard. His small blade cut down on Hanami, who was only just beginning to recover, forcing him to be on the defensive. 

A low chuckle of exhilaration and merriment rang out. 

Yuuji smacked his hand against his cheek, whispering frantically under his breath as he turned away from where Todo was standing, “What are you doing out?!” 

Sukuna, now formed as his usual sharp toothy grin, had the audacity to sneer at Yuuji as if Yuuji was the one intruding on him. Stupid curse who doesn’t even pay rent. And now he was chastising Yuuji. “Hush, brat. I was nearly bored to tears watching you and the pineapple head (“Pineapple head? You mean Todo?”) prancing around each other like hapless buffoons. At least this–” 

Plums of heavy smoke wafted through the field, shrapnels of sharp rocks and broken woods raining down upon them. Kakashi-san struck out with roots of his own, craggy, imperfect, nevertheless dangerous. He pushed back Hanami with a heavy blow, the skin of the curse smouldering from being in contact with his cursed energy. When his own slimier branches entangled with Hanami’s roots, Kakashi-san’s lightning raced through them at an alarming speed, accelerated, a conductor of his electricity. They bulldozed and overpowered the curse’s technique with a roar of thunder, leaving the Special Grade open. 

But they were nothing a sight as compared to the coldness of those crimson eyes, gleaming much more with vibrant intensity. Compared to his form when he was fighting Mahito, Kakashi-san appeared to be less careful…unhinged even. He narrowed the distance between him and Hanami with a single burst of cursed energy, the kunai he held in his hand poised readily for a killing strike, emitting arches of lightning so intense that it reached the ground, creating little indents in the earth. With his other hand, there was pure blue, a mirror of a thunderstrike, shrieking magnificently with deafening shrieks and trails of light.

“Is the highest form of entertainment I could ever enjoy.”

There was a bubbling sensation burning in the pits of his stomach, an almost unbearable warmth. The strawberry-haired teenager held in a shudder at the foreign feeling. There was primal hunger, but also a deep, deep longing, one that had Yuuji’s breath hitched, at the absurdity of it. For these were what the King of Curses were displaying, these...emotions. 

“Albeit…it could be even better .”

The smell of ash was stifling. Fire. There was a deep billowing fire. Has Kakashi-san always managed to use fire? Yuuji doesn’t remember. They blew from his masked mouth, hot and swift. They licked across the field, sending hot air into the teenager’s face and hair. They destroyed Hanami’s technique with ease, burning through its cursed technique with ease. The flames were everywhere, burning through the roots with relative ease. The trees that had been charred black and dead instantly began to wither away as the heat grew too much for their bodies to bear. They fell to the ground one by one until there wasn't a single tendril left in sight. Even the grass beneath them had turned brown and crispy, the once-green blades dry enough to be roasted over an open flame.

The smoke was suffocating. 

Yet there was a foreboding inkling, that itched at the back of his mind, that Sukuna wasn’t referring to just Kakashi-san.

Yuuji looked over to the man, and though he was facing away from the teenager, he knew those eyes were still glowing bright, the weird tomoe spinning fast in enrapturement. 

“Consider yourself lucky, Itadori Yuuji.” Sukuna stated, and it was one of the very few times where the curse did not patronise him. Instead, it felt like a warning, a foreboding of things to come. Shameless glee, apparent without the presence of anything else other than his mouth. "The stage has been set, the actors coming into play."

“For now, keep your eyes on the show.”

Those eyes slid over the ruined field, now nothing more than a smoking clearing, grazing over Yuuji for merely half of a millisecond, but it was enough to seize all the muscles in his body, the air clogging in his throat, a noiseless constriction.

He can’t breathe. He can’t move. 

It hung above Yuuji like a silent guillotine, making Yuuji fear that a wrong move would mean the end of him. 

Was this truly Kakashi-san? (Laidback, gentle, warm, now meticulous, callous, and cold, so very cold ) Was this how Mahito felt when he was trapped inside of Kakashi’s domain? He was stuck like an insect crawling across some surface—his mind. Unable to move away. Unable to do anything.

A sharp, maleficent grin, befitting of the King of Curses. Within the realm inside, Sukuna, lounging on the makeshift throne made out of animal bones, crossed his legs, his own reddish orbs glittering in a bout of reminiscence. Even here, he could imagine it, the mirage of a cloak licked by flames, of snow cloaked with soot. Of mournful howls saturated by scars marred deep. 

When he had mentioned to Kakashi that he had to learn the differences between chakra and cursed energy, he was not lying. 

Sukuna smiled, in a genuinely good mood. First he met the bewitching gem that was Fushiguro Megumi, and now he is here as well. There was only an inkling of the presence when he had touched Kakashi during their sparring match, but this. The conjure of the mirror layering the silver-haired Shinobi’s domain had offered him a glimpse of the truth, but now it was laid fully bare before him. 

“Or else you’re going to miss it.”

The echoes of water drops resonated in hollow chimes inside the domain, and Sukuna closed his eyes, content for now to be lost in his own past.

—

Yet, it would disappear all too quickly. 

The sky. The Heavens, which was covered by the dark barrier, suddenly broke through with a crack that reverberated all across the battlefield.  

Yuuji, with a palm still covering his cheek, peered upwards through the glaring sunlight. In the middle, a figure was floating high amidst the clouds. 

“G-gojo-sensei–?!”

Unmistakably, that mop of white was apparent, and Yuuji could sense the azure gaze focusing on him when his voice echoed out in his surprise. 

There was a sharp inhale of breath, drawing his immediate attention. The curse spirit, Hanami, took a step backwards with gritted teeth and a clenched fist. He was badly burnt, scorches marring its otherwise impregnable armor in deep, long streaks of black. Though he had been forced on the defensive, he was able to escape the flames with the skin of his teeth. The sorcerer would have won given the elemental advantage, but time was not on his side. The barrier holding back the Six Eyes was gone, and Hanami now has no more need for subterfuge. 

“How regrettable,” It spoke, and its shifted stance prompted Yuuji re-entered the battle. He propelled himself forward, drawing forth Black Flash once more to stop it from retreating. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Todo doing the same, “But unfortunately, this is where our battle ends–”

“Going away so soon?”

No eyes in the vicinity were fast enough to decipher what had happened next. The only thing that they heard were–

A thousand birds. They were piercing loud, screaming to the Heavens for a judgement. 

With shrieking deliverance, a lightning-coated hand pierced through Special Grade straight through its chest, spurting out blackened blood and matter. An abrupt, sudden attack that stopped both students in their tracks, gaping at the grotesque sight of Kakashi-san’s whole arm submerged completely in the Special Grade’s heart, his gore-covered fingers twitching from the front where it had penetrated through.

Hanami screamed out in agony, for, despite all odds, its body, which has been able to survive multiple Black Flashes, was pierced through in just one single strike?!

Kakashi was merciless, letting out another spark of pure, reversed energy that tormented the very atomic structure of the, denying and cutting the existence of the negative energy that made way for the curse. “Regardless of your thick armour, everything that you are made out of…well, a direct attack laced with pure Reversed energy is something a curse can’t defend against.”

A splurge of black liquid as Kakashi removed his hand roughly, revealing a hole in the curse’s chest cavity. Though it was trembling from the severity of its injury, it turned around to retaliate, raising an arm to deliver…however, Kakashi was quicker, and backhanded it, sending it tumbling to the ground. Before it could recover, there was a slash, several kunai pining it down by its arms and shoulder, the metal emitting paralysing currents that prevented it from running away…at least for a few seconds. Kakashi approached him mindfully, steadily, ignoring the chucks of blackish flesh and liquid dribbling down his dominant hand. 

“What was your objective?” Kakashi asked, slipping a heel under the cursed spirit’s head. A dribble of viscous matter slided down from its mouth, and though it has no eyes to portray its grimaces, Kakashi could tell that he has backed the Special Grade into a corner, “Even though curses typically do not develop conscience, Special grades…Well, I think even you lot would have not gone straight into enemy territory without a prize to offset the hassle, no?”

A wheezing sound escaped from the curse, its words rebounding in Kakashi’s head like a hollow echo, “...It does not matter…I was…prepared…for this outcome.”

“Oh?” Kakashi tilted his head, a momentary ponder of of the words–

Before a chilling smile, one that highlighted the sheen of crimson that graced the pair of eyes that should have long been gone. A verdict, delivered. A judgement impeded upon him, the hand that befell the executioner, pulling the guillotine down. 

“....Then perish . In front of my brother’s eyes and mine.”

“Get away brother!” Todo held up an arm to block Yuuji when he felt the buildup of cursed energy coming from two different sources; the silver-haired sorcerer in front of them and–

Yuuji jerked back, obviously confused. “Huh, why? Kakashi-san is–” 

Being a sorcerer much more in tune with his cursed energy than Yuuji, Todo could feel the tumultuous, powerful swirl of energy gaining momentum from the other far off end of the school grounds, and just sent a chagrised expression over his shoulder. “Or else you’re just going to get caught in the crossfire.”

.

.

-

When Satoru broke through the barrier – just a mere judder of his cursed energy at its weakest spot and the whole thing went crumbling down like paper in rain…hah. Just kidding.

The one who constructed the barrier…or at least, the one who provided the blueprint for it, really was someone notably masterful in the sealing arts. The same someone who also most probably provided a way for the assault to go through even Master Tengen’s barrier. 

Satoru would feel genuinely troubled, but that was food for later. He glanced down at Yuuji, who was marginally much more in harmony with his cursed energy and its output to the point he was glowing with power. Good, Satoru beamed from his vantage point. Todo-kun really helped out in showing pointers for the boy. He was proud of Yuuji’s growth in such a short amount of time. Feeling much more confident in leaving the two teenagers with the Special Grade, who also have his brother to deal with, Satoru set his sights onto the rest of the battlefield. 

He teleported to Gakuganji fighting with a bald Cursed user, who looked…thrilled at his arrival. 

“Coat rack, coat rack—!”

Having absolutely no idea why the cursed user was yelling about a coat rack out of all things while he was swinging his hatchet straight at him, but the crazed yelling was quickly drowned out by the visceral splattering of blood as Gojo hurled minute blasts of cursed energy directly at his sporadic limbs, an instantaneous action that the man could only gape as he lost all both sets of his arms and legs, the force hurtling him back until his back met the trunk of a tree, splintering it.

“Oh hush,” Satoru rolled his eyes over the cursed user’s screams and at Gakuganji’s dismayed expression, “I didn’t kill him. Only incapacitate him. You can still get information out of him~”

The old man still seemed peeved at him, but Satoru paid him no more heed. Instead, he redirected his attention elsewhere. With his Six Eyes fully exposed like this, he was able to fully decipher everything within his sight, the signature of every living thing laid bare before him.

Oya. Seems like Utahime’s dealing with another weaker Cursed user, but she had the girls, Nobara and Zen’in Mai coming to help her so it’s fine on that front. So that would leave…

He looked to the left where the Special Grade Hanami was located, and noticed the influx of raw output of Cursed energy. Ah, so Kakashi-nii going all out?

A smile. 

Then he has too as well.

“Sorry~ But considering my brother’s here–”

Satoru began to gather more and more of his vast unlimited, the lightning in his veins, the blessing that graced their bloodline. It swirled, converged, diverged, before reaching its epicentre of harmonic balance, the apex of Jujutsu accumulating itself upon his palm.

“I can’t afford not to look cool.” 

Cursed Technique Reversal: Red. Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue. 

Lightning sparked. Conjured. With it, Satoru smirked, the Six Eyes pulsing, the Limitless stretched with improbabilities.

“Hollow Purple.”

By colliding Limitless, an exceptionally powerful secret extension technique only known to a few in the Gojo Family. A massive overflow of cursed energy that produces an imaginary mass. An incredibly destructive energy wave that annihilates everything it comes in contact with, and Satoru sent it hurtling towards forth to erase everything in its path, towards the direction of the Special Grade and his brother.

.

At the same time as Hollow Purple manifested, Kakashi, after grasping the curse’s neck and hauling it to its feet, activated Lightning blade in his free hand. He held the curse up, before uppercutting Hanami in the throat, deliberately keeping the lightning blunt enough so it wouldn’t penetrate deep and tear the skin but keeping its paralysing property. The force was enough to send the curse spiralling straight up high, the curse gurgling from the impact, but there was no time to even try to recover. A pulse of thunder and lightning, and the sorcerer was upon it again, having jumped to its height, the technique in his hand leaving trails of pure light in the sky. The next strike sent them both spiralling in a zig-zag formation in the air, back and forth, until finally-

Kakashi reappeared above Hanami, a hand poised for a last attack. 

A merciless, twinkling glint of the sorcerer’s eyes as they met eye contact for the final time, and it was with a mutter, a deliverance of carnage, that the sound of a thousand birds almost drowned out;

“Twin Lightning Shiver.”

With a final deafening shriek, he drove the final Lightning blade in Hanami’s chest, and with a burst of blue, the curse was sent hurtling down to the ground…and straight into the path of Hollow Purple. 

…

As it felt the technique literally ripping it apart from the plane of existence, Hanami felt not pain, but peace. 

Mahito, I hope you managed to get out safely. Please, take care of Jogo and Dagon. See to it that our goal comes to be.

…

Hanami was a Special Grade curse, a spiritual being that was created out of a dread of land-based natural disasters and a desire to purge humanity from the planet for their abuse of nature. Yet, within the silver-haired sorcerer, there was something that even the Earth itself feared. An ancient essence that resonated deeply with it, yet also, permeated a deep history of blood and humanity.

Geto, your plan…you knew, didn’t you. About this one. You have sent me to my death. 

…Eh. It’s fine. As long as curses ultimately…

…

The heavy cloud of dust settled finally, revealing the aftermath of the colliding techniques.

A deep crater has settled in the land, as several hundred metres deep and as long now scarred the scorched Earth. 

Gojo Kakashi glanced back over his shoulder, schooled and impassive, though the crimson glows of his eyes that Yuuji felt intimidated, recalling the shift of killing intent from the man who has been so so kind to him all this time–

A killer, Sukuna whispered in his mind, and his chuckles rang like an execution bell, heralding the deliverance of death. He does not belong here. 

Despite his will, Yuuji couldn’t help but tense as the man made his way towards him and Todo, strides purposeful and intent. Aside from the strands of silvery hair straying from a loosened tie, there was no visible signs of a battle upon his person, even Kakashi-san’s clothes were almost pristine, unruffled. 

Except from the smear of blood still clinging to the sleeve of his right arm, dropping viscous matter onto the grass.

Against even a fight with a Special Grade, Yuuji has now been made known twice of the abilities of the man who could go up against curses so willingly, so readily. A double-sided mirror, a double-edged sword. 

Kakashi stopped before him, a figure of regality, lightning still crackling in his veins and when he reached to Yuuji, fingers ready to pierce his heart–

The teenager blinked. No longer were they red, now they are smiling pools of stormy ashes, regarding Yuuji as they always were. The air no longer smelled of rust and ozone; no longer were Yuuji’s instincts clamouring him to run and hide.

Kakashi-san was back.

“Ah, Yuuji-kun, heads up.”

And unceremoniously, he dipped over, almost planting face first into the ground if not for Todo’s quick reflexes. The taller boy grabbed Kakashi-san’s shoulder, manoeuvring him until he settled on his knees, a depleted form in contrast to the warrior that wielded the elements of nature at his beck and call. 

“I see the rumour was true.”

“Which rumour?” Kakashi sounded winded, looking very much like he wanted to meld straight into the earth. “There’s a lot of them.”

Todo grinned good-naturedly, “The one where there’s a particular Tokyo sorcerer who would always land himself in medical care after every mission.”

“...Out of all things.” A sigh. “There goes my reputation. I’m fine, just need a little pitstop…Is there something the matter, Yuuji-kun? You’ve been staring at me.”

The teenager snapped out from his reverie at the sound of his name being called. The man was acknowledging him with worry even when he himself was slumped amidst the patches of scorched dirt, taking slow, heavy breath every so often. Has he jumped into the fray even when he was not fully up into it? 

Yuuji felt…guilty, yeah, for being even slightly afraid of the man who has shown nothing but care for him. For the others. To let bastard Sukuna’s whispers cloud his judgement. 

“I’m fine!” Perhaps a little too loudly, Yuuji affirmed his well-being. Only minor scratches here and there. Not that he usually takes much injuries to the body anyway, given how resilient he was. 

He knelt before Kakashi-san, looking straight into the inquisitive gaze. The star-filled irises caught light, a reflective sheen of familiar compassion and care casted upon them.

“I’m fine, Kakashi-san.” He repeated firmer with no more doubt. 

Sukuna’s deriding chuffs reverberated in his mind, and Yuuji paid him no mind. But he does make a note to himself to talk to Kakashi-san later, as the King of Curses’ words kept ringing in his mind, a reminder that still sent shivers down his spine. Sukuna sounded like he knew more than he had let on. 

A killer. One day, he too will…

Kakashi-san let out a diminutive noise, probably finished with his own assessment of Yuuji. “I’m glad.” He closed his eyes probably to take that breather, the stiffness of his shoulders finally dissipating like the burden of the day had been lifted from them. He does appear to be relieved, and it’s that peacefulness that prompted Yuuji to present his back to Kakashi.

“Todo, help me move Kakashi-san.” Though the immediate threat was gone, who knows if there was backup coming. It would be better to meet up with Gojo-sensei and the others instead of being out in the open like this. And Kakashi-san needed someone to take a look at him, despite Yuuji sensing his silent  protests when Todo nudged him onto Yuuji’s back. 

“Never a dull day at the Tokyo branch uh, brother?” Todo let out a hearty laugh that echoed throughout the ruined grounds. Yuuji released the breath that he didn’t know he was holding, and wiped the sweat from his brow. Not from Kakashi’s admittedly slight weight on his back, but from…trepidation. Anxiety. 

He observed the kilometres-deep chasm gorging the ground in front of him once more. It was a truly awe-inspiring sight, straight up a scene from a Shonen manga or something! And he should feel relieved, that things were okay, that everyone would be fine despite their injuries. But…

The calm before the storm, Sukuna reminded him. 

—

Megumi watched glumly as he watched his yearmates munching happily on their respective slices of pizza before shaking his head at his own slice. “Can’t you guys get me something that I could chew properly?” Still, he bit into the hot cheesy, gooey mess, savouring the taste of pure calories upon his tongue.  

“Oh come on,” The dark-haired teenager’s eyes slid over to his miraculously-still alive teammate. He was conversing with Nobara regarding his sudden friendship with Todo. “I said I didn’t remember what happened!”

“So how come you’re so close with that gorilla?! He even said that you two went to Junior High together!”

“Ahhh? We did not! I swear we did not! And I was not drunk or anything before you decided to say that next, Kugisaki.”

“Dammit.”

“Eating junk food again, are we?” 

All three turned towards the doorway, where a familiar mess of hair was waving languished at them.

“Kakashi-san!” Yuuji was the first one to chirp happily, in the process of still chewing, “You’re walking!”

The man threw Yuuji an exasperated look at the unintended shade, before shaking his head with a sigh. “...Thank you…? I guess this time my burnout wasn’t so severe that I have to spend the time laying in bed. By the way, here.”

He came over to the bed and deposited a tray of something in a steaming bowl, the smell already making the teenagers perk up at the wonderful smell. 

“Chicken ginger soup,” Answering Megumi’s unvoiced question, “Because you’re not supposed to be eating solid yet. Take it easy on your stomach. You were one of the most injured,” He nudged the bowl closer with a finger, casting a veiled, distasteful look at the box of pizza, “Though this is the only custom meal I made, the two of you, I afraid,” Kakashi’s mask crinkled as he indicated at Yuuji and Nobara, “will have to settle for bento instead.”

With the way he said, you would think that they were just store bought, ready-made meals. But when he brought over the food boxes, Megumi immediately noted that they were made in the typical containers that Kakashi always used when he gave them away. 

Yuuji noticed it too, for his eyes sparkled brightly, clasping the bento box like it was a gift straight from Kami-sama himself. He unravelled the cloth, revealing the content within. Freshly made straight from the kitchen, there were slices of meat and fish, a thin layer of seaweed salad, some pickled vegetables, dried bonito flakes, and an assortment of green leafy things on top of a hefty amount of rice. It was all delicious. The strawberry-haired teenager could not wait to tear into it, it certainly looked like it was made with pure goodwill.

Megumi however, narrowed his own gunmetal orbs, “Aren’t you supposed to be resting instead of making all of these?” At his comment, Yuuji’s face changed from joy to concern, remembering the state that Kakashi was in. 

Good food is awesome and all, but not at the expense of the chef’s health!

Kakashi sweatdropped as he was met with two pairs of judgemental looks; Megumi’s especially, since he was already reaching out for his cellphone to probably get Satoru on speed dial for a possible ‘He Escaped the Infirmary Again’ situation. 

“No no no, it’s alright.” Kakashi made a motion for Megumi to drop his phone with a pained grimace, “I did get off relatively easy. Plus, I have to do this, you know. Shoko made me go on kitchen duty, saying something about keeping morale high.”

“Ehhh?” 

The man gave an awkward laugh, a short raspy one that made Megumi think that the man was truly not as fully recovered as he’d said he was, “W-well, think of this as my punishment, or something like that. Because Shoko told me this morning that she didn’t want to see me for at least another month–”

“...and you immediately got yourself landed in the infirmary straight after,” Megumi finished, and he finally let go of his phone, “To be honest, I’m not surprised.” 

“So mean, Megumi.” Kakashi said woefully, “Don’t need to state it so bluntly.” 

“Hold on!” Megumi shrank back into his pillow when Nobara suddenly screamed. Perplexment was deeply ingrained in her voice as she surged forward from her seat, a finger pointing at Kakashi. “Are you just guys gonna be mushy-friendly with each other without filling me in?! Mister Sea Urchin. And especially you ,” Here, she gestured to a sheepish Yuuji, “Who was supposed to be dead for months! How did you come across this…this–” Nobara frowned at the silver-haired man.

“Who even are you?!”

Kakashi blinked, cocking his head before the thought came to him. “Ah yes, of course. We haven’t met yet, have we? I’m Kakashi, just a friendly associate. If you find yourself in any trouble…well, I would say come find me, but usually I’m off on missions, which is why we haven’t seen each other.”

“Gojo Kakashi!” Yuuji chirped in between cheesy mouthfuls before Megumi could nudge him that they were supposed to keep his tie to Gojo-sensei a secret. Though it was Nobara, who would find out sooner or later, no thanks to Gojo-sensei himself and his….tendencies.

“Ehhhh,” Nobara nodded at the introduction. 

Then it clicked.

“EHHHHHH!!!” Nobara stood up, pointing a finger at the silver-haired man with wide eyes. “G-gojo–?! Like, like Gojo-sensei?! What, so you’re his first cousin thrice removed or something?”

“Actually, I’m Gojo-sensei ’s older brother. Nice to meet you.” Kakashi-san gave her a ‘V’ peace sign albeit Megumi could see the bafflement knitted in the gesture.

“...Uh?”

“W-Wait a minute—” Nobara was frankly flabbergasted at the truly earth-shattering revelation while her teammates were busy munching away. “S-since when does Gojo-sensei has a brother—”

Kakashi still looked confused at the situation. “Since he was born? Well anyway, I would love to stay and chat, but I still have to make food rounds. Toodles.” He waggled his fingers before promptly disappearing out the door again. Yuuji looked like he wanted to call out to the man –probably wanting to ask if he could help him or something, but there was something minute in the way the other set his jaw that Megumi thought that there actually might be another reason. The Shadow user tried to catch Yuuji’s eyes, but the other quickly returned to his meal, a bit too hurriedly. Hmm.

“Gojo-sensei has a brother–” Kugisaki appeared to be in a crisis, muttering to herself in denial while clutching her head, “ Gojo-sensei has a brother –”

Yuuji was oblivious to Nobara’s distress as he stole a few pepperoni off the pizza. “You didn’t know? Woooowwww, Kugisaki, talk about being out of the loop, right eh, Fushiguro–”

“Leave me out of this.” Megumi said, though he too averted his gaze, aware of the rising ire coming from their female yearmate. Call it instincts, but right there and then, he wanted to pull a Kakashi and escaped through the window. If only his limbs still did not feel like that they had been jellified…

Also because, he can’t exactly pull off a quick, clean escape while carrying a steaming bowl of hot ginger chicken soup now, can he. 

“...How long have you two known…” Nobara turned towards her yearmates, and though her voice was deceptively calm, there was pure murder in her eyes. Megumi looked longingly at the sliding doors that oversaw the balcony. It was only the ground floor, surely he could manage somehow. Yuuji was still busy devouring both pizza and the bento to even notice his approaching doom. 

Nobara proceeded to slam the two’s heads together.

“How dare you two treat me like I’m some sort of a third wheel in a typical Shonen-style relationship or some shit like that! Leave me behind next time and I’ll go pincushion on your asses!” 

“Y-yes, mam.”

“I’m still technically injured, you know.”

–

“Maki.”

“Hmmm. Oh, it’s you.”

“Here, I brought food.”

The green-haired teenager looked up from the magazine she had been absent-mindedly reading, at the small side table where the scraggly-haired man had deposited two containers upon. Food, she deduced from the amazing smell, and tried to hide her eagerness. Her body had recovered nicely from the beating it had received and now she was absolutely ravished. Still, she pointed out the extra container. 

“This is one bento too many. I only need one.”

“Ahhhh about that. My knees are feeling a bit stiff, so I’m asking you to do me a small favour…There’s only one room left that I haven’t delivered, the one at the very end of the third floor. It’s too far away for me to handle in my condition.”

Maki raised an eyebrow at that; Kakashi, who had no trouble jumping down from multiple storeys, showing off a mastery over different types of cursed tools countless times, and having unparalleled finesse at hand-to-hand combat, was complaining of stiff knees. Right. He definitely has an ulterior motive for this. 

The girl counted the rooms in her mind; Inumaki was next to hers, then Megumi and that Kamo guy. They were sorted according to their injuries, so the upper floors were given to the ones having only light wounds. Nobara, Nishimiya….and…

“...Tch. Meddling, are you?” Maki stood up, pushing her glasses higher up the bridge of her nose as if trying to hide the emotions in her eyes. “Fine, you old man. But I expect payment for this.” 

“Thank you~~” Kakashi clapped his hands together with an apologetic grin, a motion that they both knew was just an upfront, “You saved me~~”

“Tch.” Maki clicked her tongue again, shouldering her way towards the door and past the man, who called out to her cheerfully,

“Oh, and make sure you give that with a hugeeee smile! Some honesty would be great as well!”

“--You–!”

-

The thing was, while Kakashi does have the intention of ah, meddling, he really did have a meeting to attend to, one that he started with–

“I apologise. I only sent out a clone to survey once my head cleared.” Kakashi cursed. “I was too hasty to deal with the obvious threat to realise it in time. And when I did…the clone–” He sucked in a breath, remembering the last moments of his dispelled Shadow clone being that of Mahito’s malicious grin as he ruthlessly stabbed the clone in the neck with a morphed axe made from his own limb. 

When it had spawned into existence, the clone made a beeline to the only place of interest it could think of; the storehouse, where the school stores their valuable cursed-related objects and tools. It was also where they store–

Two crumpled, malformed bodies indicated the distorted remains of the attendants guarding the location. A trademark of–

Scrwishhh–!

“A little too late, sorcerer~~” The curse had cajoled, with an dishonest smirk. “We could have had a little fun ourselves, but too bad~~”

Satoru was quiet for a moment. “Don’t blame yourself, Nii-san. I should have known as well. For them to directly attack like that even with me being nearby…They did a great job misdirecting us. With the barrier and the other Special Grade, they made us think that their goal was within instead of outside.”

And now, all six of Sukuna’s fingers held within the custody of the school were stolen, along with some others. 

“What did the meeting conclude?” He didn’t think either Principles would be too happy with what had happened, and once the Higher-ups heard of the incident as well, more pressure would be added on them. 

“Nothing damning, the fingers were gone, as well as three of the Death Painting Wombs, but we got rid of one of the Special Grades as well. That’s a huge bonus. Both sides had suffered losses today. They can’t say anything more than that.” Satoru tried to sound upbeat, but he sounded tired as well. A meeting with the Higher-ups had and will always tax anyone. Kakashi fortunately was spared from such torture, as after dealing with the lightly-injured students (which left the severely-wounded ones in Shoko’s care), was given the task of questioning their new captive.

The one captured curse user had revealed nothing useful as well. Even with Kakashi casting a light interrogational genjutsu upon him, the information he had spilled was nothing short of useless. Whoever was in charge of him, they were smart enough to not divulge too much information about anything to him. Just an indispensable tool.

Kakashi redirected his sight to the window, where the sunlight was streaming through. Despite everything, the weather was still fine and fair. “And what of the event? Will it be cancelled?” There was supposed to be individual segments as the second part, as opposed to the team event as the first. At least, that was the usual schedule. Considering what had transpired, it would be of no surprise if they did decide to call it off. 

There was an unsightly snort as Satoru leaned his weight against Kakashi, taking advantage of his height to rest his head upon his brother’s messy crown. 

“Oh no no. They tried to, but I told them straight away that it was not our decision to decide. That goes to the students! So I had Yuuji-kun draw a lot from a box to decide what the next activity was. Seems fair, right?” Kakashi felt Satoru’s smirk as he tried to bat away the annoying overgrown bamboo shoot and his tangly limbs. 

“And?” Satoru chuckled as he slipped down the manilla cardboard cuts that he had very generously slipped inside the suggestion box into the other’s palm. Kakashi glanced down at the writing and did a double take.

“Baseball?”

…

“So for this time only, we’re playing ball! Whichever faction wins this round will be declared as the winner for this year’s Goodwill event!” Gojo hollered in the middle of the baseball field. He mussed his hair, corrected the glasses that he chose to wear this time, before delivering the last part of his announcement with a huge cheshire beam, knowing the effect that it would cause. But hey, it would really rally the spirits!

“Plus! The winning team will get the chance to ask our beloved Kakashi-san to make any meals they want! Of course, one time only~~!”  (“Ah that brat, he’s using me again without asking first,” - Kakashi)

Surprisingly, not only was the Tokyo faction was fired up to win, but also the–

“Ah I see, so the prize–” Momo gripped her broom tighter.

“Is something—” Mai huffed. 

“We must absolutely win.” Noritoshi Kamo stated in absolute, looking very much like a mummy with the amount of bandages wrapped around his head. He had suffered the worst level of injuries out of all of them, when he, Megumi and Inumaki had first encountered Hanami. Yet he still insisted on joining. 

Panda was the first to point out this discrepancy, his little ears twitching, “Hmm? Wait a second, didn’t you say how unbecoming it was for sorcerers to become excited over food? Hmmmmmmmm?”  

“That was before we had a taste of ambrosia. The finest of cuisine. It is truly worth fighting for just to have another taste of it.” During their stay at the infirmary, the Kyoto students have had a chance to finally understand the gift upon the taste buds that was Kakashi’s cooking. Oh, how blind they had been!

“Ahhh??!” The Second Years, in particular Maki, mocked. Behind her, Inumaki gave them a thumbs down, along with Panda giving out little ‘boooo’, “What makes you think we’re going to just let you have another go at our precious commodity? Get in line like the rest of us!”

“Now now, guys,” Miwa laughed nervously, trying to placate her peers. But her voice was drowned by louder voices, which discouraged her from continuing. 

“Good things should be shared! Not monopolised!”

“What are you, kindergarteners?! No no, pay up front!” 

“Uwaa,” Kakashi said, eye-smiling at the students. He was sitting in the middle-row bleachers, thumbing over the pages of the last published novel of the romantic series that he had been following. He pulled at the blanket that Satoru had forced upon him, and swept some of the locks that had fallen over his shoulders, the messy strands having been set loose from its usual hair tie. He was supposed to be quietly recuperating (at Satoru’s insistence), and so he does. 

“Goodluck, everyone~~”  

Kakashi soon got lost in the ensuing chaotic activity that was baseball. If there’s one thing that he still does not understand in this world, it’s sports. All the terms flew over his head as he watched the students, donning the typical baseball uniforms, shouted at their teammates and at each other, taking turns as the batter. Utahime seemed to be very into it however, as she shouted instructions to her students with zealous energy that he rarely saw from her. 

The Kyoto team was short one person. The first batter, Nobara, absolutely lost it when she saw who, or rather, what was the first pitcher. 

“THAT’S JUST A PITCHER MACHINE, ISN’T IT? DON’T SCREW WITH ME!”

“What do you mean?” Mai asked, falsing concern at the unhinged Nobara. Though she continued to antagonise the First year, she looked minutely happier than she try to let on, then her schoolmates chose not to comment on it. “That’s our spare Mechamaru. Considering the first Mechamaru was broken by that Panda of yours. Also how do you know the term for that? Are you a nerd or something?”

Nobara hollered, clearly mad, which had led to Yuuji having to physically restrain her with screams, “Help! Kugisaki has lost her marbles!”

During the scuffle, Kakashi observed the extra Mechamaru a little closely. That student’s technique. Puppet Manipulation. He could control several at once, and it has quite the reach, being able to utilise it from a large distance. Quite the perfect technique to carry out any reconnaissance if you ask for his opinion. 

As the match continued, with the students switching their posts, Kakashi put away his novel, before hopping off from the bleachers. All the attention was focused on Maki, who had scored a nicely-aimed pitch directly at Todo Aoi, who was being comforted by Yuuji while everyone else applauded her. A perfect little distraction as Kakashi made his way to where the two principles were sitting together. 

“Kakashi,” Yaga greeted him, and there was a hint of slight disapproval in his tone. He didn’t seem to like Kakashi’s decision to be so close to Gakuganji, deliberating putting himself as a target in case of the slightest wrongdoing, “What brings you to be in the company of us old people?”

“Speak for yourself, Yaga, I think of myself to be still young,” Gakuganji said, “Though yes, it is a surprise, but not unexpected. I reckon you want to talk to me about Sukuna’s vessel?”

“Itadori Yuuji has saved a lot of lives when he held back the Special Grade with Aoi Todo,” Kakashi said in tandem, hands in his pocket, “The situation would have been much much worse if he didn’t get involved.”

“You say this despite the fact that it was you and Gojo Satoru’s doing that the curse was properly exorcised.” Gakuganji grumbled, but he did turn to give Kakashi an acknowledgement, “As a fellow sorcerer, I offer you my gratuitous thank you, especially since you’ve also healed my students. But it is also that as a fellow sorcerer, it pains me that our paths do not coalign that we butt heads every so often.”

“Despite our disagreements, it is quite a stretch for you to think that I have any ill will towards you. I do not,” Kakashi stated amiably, “Though I can’t quite say the same for you, Principle Gakuganji.”

Gakuganji was quiet, mulling. “I do not hate Itadori Yuuji. Nor you, Gojo Kakashi.” The old man sighed. “I told Yaga as much earlier. You must understand that from someone of my position, the fact that Itadori Yuuji still lives poses a threat to society. There is a possibility of mass death. The same goes to you as well, should one day a recurrence of that event happens again. Our decisions are based for the greater good, instead of basing on just one individual.”

“Of course, and while I do understand your reasoning,” Kakashi shifted his attention back towards the students on the field, who looked less like sorcerers and more like…teenagers at a sports event. All around there were cheers and boos, but they were all in great spirits, despite what had happened. “It does not mean that I agree completely with them. Yuuji-kun has been dealt a hand that he had no control over, yet he’s trying the best he can. He’s growing. All of them are. We, the older ones, should support them. And I, for one, will continue to support him.”

“And if you were to regret it?”

“Then I would.” Kakashi replied, watching as Yuuji scored a marvellous swing, sending the ball way over and faster than Momo could catch, “But I’m old enough to deal with the consequences. If I were to lose my way again, then I will get my due. But them…Let them be kids, for all that they are sorcerers.” 

Yaga put forward his own piece with crossed arms, “Leave the adult grievances to the adults, yes.”

“HOOOOOMME RRRRRRRRUUUNN—-!” Satoru hollered loud enough that a few birds went flying away in a startled flock. 

“2-0! It’s Tokyo’s winnnnnnnnnn—!!!”

(“It’s okay,” Kakashi sweatdropped, trying to console a whole group of teary-eyed Kyoto students. “Satoru was just joking. You get to eat as well.” He put a hand to cover over Satoru’s protests, however he can’t quite drown out the Tokyo students’ jeers. “Though I don’t think I have enough tangerines to feed all of you…”)

-x-

Omake 1: Who We Wanted to Protect

“Are you Zenin Maki?”

The name itself made the girl growl, and she brandished her cursed tool from where she had been practising her kata with. She had thought this particular spot in the training ground on campus was scheduled enough to not be graced with unwanted visitors, but apparently she was wrong.

“It’s Maki,” She adjusted her glasses, and it was with a poorly hidden grimace that she barked, “Drop the surname; I have nothing to do with that family anymore.”

“Pardon me,” The man gave her a bow of the head, a tiny dip of concession, “Are you Maki-san?”

“Yes, who’s asking?” Finally relaxing from her fighting stance, as the fool clearly wants to take a bit of her precious personal training time before the new semester starts, Maki turned to face the newcomer, before tsking. 

“Are you somehow related to the blindfolded weirdo?” Maki asked unceremoniously, remembering the freakishly tall guy who had been way too cheery and condescending at the same time. The man had been the one who had recommended Maki to the school, reassuring them of her potential despite the lack of cursed energy. Yeah, that’s right. Zen’in Maki, a child of one of the Three Great Jujutsu families in all of Japan, was born without a shred of cursed energy coursing in her blood. 

And thus, Maki cannot detect cursed energy, for she does not have any. But she could tell that this one was related to that loud-mouthed idiot. A capable sorcerer, with just the silent way they carry themself, their posture, though appearing relaxed, still vigilant and alert.

Or maybe it was just due to the weird pale hair colour that they both have, light enough to appear iridescent beneath the midday sun, like a halo. 

“Do you mean Satoru?” The reply was accompanied with a shrug. “Maybe. Yes. Who’s asking?” He returned in good-naturedness, the joke actually making Maki snort. Touche. 

“What do you want?” 

“Just came by to say hi to our new student~” Oblivious to Maki’s bite, the man approached her, unafraid, without judgement. His steps were light, Maki observed, nary a noise emitted from his movements, like a silent shadow sneaking up on her. Despite this, the man still offered a smile. “I was curious, considering the circumstances.”

“About the failure of the Zenin clan, right?” Maki gripped her staff a little too hard, to the point of causing a small crack to appear on the handle. “What? Going to mock me straight in my face? Go on, I dare you. I’ll pulverise you to the dirt.”

The man was unaffected by her threat. If anything, his weirdly-covered face was amused.

To Maki’s surprise, the man bent down and picked up another cursed tool; a cross-shaped spear. He twirled it once, twice, a show of finesse that Maki secretly admired. Usually sorcerors do not rely on cursed tools, preferably the much more reliant source of their own cursed technique. In fact, it would be a great shame upon their name, to use such tools. 

“Spread your legs a bit wider, your footing’s off enough to not use that spear’s reach to the fullest. And your balance needs to be lower.”

To say that Maki was taken aback was an understatement. “What are you–”

“You’re a student here now.” The man said. “And while I’m not a teacher here, I like to help out sometimes. Your technique with the tool is already well above average, far better than most sorcerors I’ve seen. I have no doubt that you could go even beyond.”

Maki refused to accept the praise upfront, having been raised in a household that tends to take and receive than to give. “Are you mocking me?”

“I’m not, really. There is more than one way to grow as a capable sorcerer.” The man contemplated the glint of the spear with casted recollection. 

“You remind me of someone I used to know. A hardworking person. Hand-to-hand combat was something he was a master at, but even more so of his ability to use tools at his disposal. But his abilities, his talents… he was not born with gifts, you see. He had to work hard for them. Everyone looked down at him at first, before one day, he was able to stand on equal grounds with the natural prodigy of his generation.”

Was there really such a person? Just hearing it, Maki was inclined to believe that it was a fairytale. “What are you getting at?”

“What I’m getting at–” A swish of the air as the man readied himself, hands brandishing the spear until the tip was pointing at Maki, a sign of a challenge. “Is that I believe, someone can become strong even without being born gifted. To stand on equal footing even with those who are perceived to be blessed. A hardworking person…versus a natural genius.” A slight dip of his head, eyes curved into a smile. “Don’t you think so?”

“...Tch.” Maki tried to hide the fact that she was taken aback by such an opinion being so readily voiced out loud. A view that would be called blasphemy in the world of Jujutsu. Whoever this man is…“Shut up. I don’t think so. I know so.” 

She has to. To show those bastards of the Zen’in clan that they were full of shit. 

Maki has to become a great Jujutsu sorcerer of her own merit. 

It was way later, after that improtout sparring session, when they were both taking a break among the grass, that Maki finally asked, directly, bluntly, “Why do you care if you’re not a teacher?”

The man told her, after a moment of contemplation, a palm under his chin, “It’s because…I too, have a younger sibling that I wish to protect.”

“...” Maki looked away. “...What do you know?” Hostility returned to her tone, one that was born out of hesitation and vulnerability. Her situation with her twin was something of a sore spot to her. Not because she hated Mai, no, she loved Mai to bits, who wouldn’t of their own sibling?

No, Maki had to do this. She had to leave that house, that accursed clan and its toxic environment, staying would only drag her down and under. It was for Mai’s sake as well.

There was a soft hum. When Maki glanced back at the man, he was quietly staring up at the sky, dark lashes catching brief nets of sunlight. There was melancholy swimming in those ashen eyes, as well as something familiar. 

Oh.

When Gojo Kakashi returned her gaze, there was the tinge of familiar protectiveness that made Maki finally, even just a bit, trust the man, at the slightest of their similarities. “Our cute little sibling. They’re trapped by the burden of being born in this kind of world, aren’t they? And I wish to ease that burden as best I could…even at the cost of me.”

“...Hmph.” Me as well. 

Omake 2: Seasonal Souls

Though the weather was cool, the winds blowing gently and the sun shining brightly, a boy found himself walking dejectedly through the street, lips pulled into a pout. In his hands, which he has clasped behind his back as he kicked away a pebble, was a hard-bought present that he thought he would be able to give to his longtime crush, but alas, his time for confession was rejected in favour of a much more important occasion.  

Stupid, stupid, stupid. That Ka–

“What are you doing now, you idiot?”

“Gak–!”

The boy fell flat on his ass, too deep in his thoughts to even notice the very person that he was cursing. He glanced up, neck and cheeks flushed red at the stings of pain that reverberated from where he had landed hard, glaring accusingly at the newcomer. 

“Crybaby.” The other commented at the watery eyes that the boy was now sporting. 

“Shut up, Bakakashi! Who asked you?!” 

The newly minted Jounin at the age of thirteen, Hatake Kakashi, raised an eyebrow, face unchanging at the accusatory finger pointing straight at him. Especially since the other was practically holding back tears, apparent even with his goggles, flat on his ass in the middle of a thankfully barren road that was far from the usual route the civilians take. 

“I’m not the one walking and skulking in the middle of the street like a damned hooligan,” the silver-haired boy said, crossing his arms. If he looked imposing before, now he appeared to be more stern, unfitting of his short stature. His typical dark eyes darkened even more as he glared at his teammate, a cold mirror of onyx. 

“Seriously, Obito. You’re a Shinobi. Act like it.”

Obito’s little yelp was full of anger, and he jumped to his feet, ready to hurl insults and throw hands. 

But when he exchanged glares with a colder, ashen one, his tongue was suddenly tongue-tied, and he could merely open and close his mouth silently, like a fish on land. 

“Cat got your tongue suddenly, deadlast?”

Deadlast. Deadlast . Again with that name calling. He’s gotten used to hearing from his fellow clan members, but once…once, Kakashi did not call him that. A long time ago. 

What…What had happened to that kind, albeit crude boy that he had once known? The one who had proudly showed off his budding ninja skills to Obito, but would also play kick-the-can with him later as well? The Kakashi that would cook and invite him and Rin into his house for a hot meal? The Kakashi who can catch the fishes in the river with great finesse and skills? 

(The Kakashi that used to smile prettily with light in his eyes).

And now…But now, he could never compare himself to the prodigy. To Hatake fucking Kakashi. Always Hatake Kakashi. 

His continued silence was noticeable to Kakashi, who raised an eyebrow at the absence of the typical outbursts that often occur during their spats. Obito rarely kept quiet about anything, and if he finds any fault with Kakashi (which is all the time really), then he would make it verbally known to anyone and anything in range. Honestly, how could someone so loud manage to graduate to a Genin, much less a Chuunin, was beyond Kakashi.

Which leads back to the point; Obito being quiet was such a…concerning moment that Kakashi decided to ease up, shoulders relaxing into a much less rigid posture.

“What’s wrong this time?” Kakashi asked, because something had to bother Obito so much if he was holding back from verbally lashing out at Kakashi. He sighed and asked, certainly not out of worry or anything. “Is it the clan again? Or is it Ri–”

“--Shut up!”

The Hatake stopped himself from shrinking back as Obito surged forward, eyes blazing with the familiar dissonance of rage, dissatisfaction….and that weird gloss of heady emotion that he still cannot quite decipher, the same presence that swirled in the Uchiha’s irises everytime he looked at Kakashi. 

It was Kakashi’s turn to be at a loss as Obito continued to regard him with that fervour, “Always running your mouth incessantly…You don’t know shit, Bakakashi!”

“What are you–” Before he was able to continue whatever biting retort that clung to the edge of his tongue, Kakash found himself temporarily speechless instead when something crinkly smacked his face with an inaudible thud of plastic. 

The boy looked down at his feet to see the bundle of flowers, an arrangement that was almost as big as his head, laid crumpled in the dirt. 

When he glanced up, Obito was already turning away from him, feets swerving away in rambunctious stomps. 

“Oi,” Kakashi called out, brows furrowed. He knelt to pick up the forgotten flowers, cradling it quite precariously due to the ribbon holding them together already dismantling. Stalks of green poked out from in-betweens of torn plastic. “Throwing away trash in public is a viola–”

“Shut up!” The Uchiha again, screeched back in a shrill to quickly intercept Kakashi’s lecture, and when the other turned to give him a spiteful frown, his face was bright red, eyes predictably brimming with unshed tears as befitting as a crybaby such as him, “It’s yours now! Do whatever you want with it!” He gestured an emphatic motion, “Congratulations, or whatever!”

There was nobody else in that narrow pathway now except for Kakashi and the bundle of flowers. The boy heaved an exasperated sigh, a hand on his hip and a palm on his forehead in a pose of chagrin as the noise that Obito was giving gradually faded away. Honestly, that guy. One day his emotions would spell the end of him, thrown into a chasm so deep that even Kakashi can’t drag his ass back from.  

Was Obito actually planning to give them to Rin at first? He must have been rejected, or was unable to. That would explain his foul mood, not that Obito’s mood was never not foul when dealing with Kakashi.

The Hatake looked down at the bouquet in his hands, the pretty petals strewn haphazardly from mishandling. With keen eyes and a trepid heart, he observed each arrangement, thumbing through each of the stalks with a murmur of recallment. Red tulips, with a spray of white carnations. Kakashi couldn’t help but snort at the meanings. Eternal love, sweet and lovely, innocence, pure love. Certainly sounds like Obito’s infatuation with Rin. But it really was a lovely bouquet, the bright, vibrant colours drawing focus to their beauty despite the simplistic arrangement.

Though Ikebana taught at the Ninja Academy were usually reserved for the Kunoichi, Kakashi had involved himself in the class, because he had thought that the knowledge, however mundane, would prove useful somehow in the future. A Shinobi must always be prepared for any scenario after all, and the success of the mission precedes all. 

Absolutely. (Though his heart ache–)

Shaking his head almost too hard, Kakashi let out a derisive little snort, able to unwind once he knew he was truly alone. He was a bit amped from the Jounin exam; tiredness was of no concern, an expected setback from the brutal physical inspections of the regime, but his current sourness was more towards the hostility of his fellow exam peers, all of whom have given him the stink eye, older individuals who had lived long enough to remember Sakum–

Enough. Enough . 

Kakashi had succeeded. He had pushed back all of their doubts, their callousness and dubiousness of Kakashi’s abilities, because of his age (and his lineage). Kakashi had pulled through, and he had shown, will continue to show them the true meaning of being a tool of the village. 

One that will, without failure , continue to abide by the moral code of the Shinobi. 

…

Shinobi should always be meticulous, taking care of every instrument at their disposal, no matter how mundane they appear to be. 

That was the only reason why Kakashi was taking careful care of unwrapping the plastic that somehow still held together the stalks of flowers, the perpetuating sweet scent pungent enough that he could smell it clearly even through his mask. It would be a waste to throw them away, Kakashi thought, and carefully picked out the ones that had not bruised or yet outright destroyed, separating them onto a clean tissue that had been placed on the table.

And though he knew that the flowers were really not for him… 

He carefully sorted through the bouquet. They were freshly plucked, carefully so, no doubt a workmanship of the Yamanakas. To think that they were able to produce such a beautiful, bountiful batch when a war was looming over them…

As a child of a bygone clan of the earth, Kakashi holds no short of respect for them. 

The walk back to his lonesome clan compound had been short, brisk, uneventful. Kakashi did not want to spend any more time outside than necessary, not only wanting to avoid his fellow peers, who were suspiciously clumped together more often for the past week, but also the whispers from the civilians that have been growing incessantly stronger, more vehement, the worry of the war reaching even the depths of the village. 

The approaching war is a horrible event, but it was also one that Kakashi could prove his worth to the village once and for all. To restore the reputation of his family’s name. It would be a long, harsh journey, one that he would walk alone. 

He needed all the tools he could get, Kakashi thought, as he carefully plucked the unfortunately petals of the flowers that did not make it, salvaging those neatly.

Yeah, this was purely to preserve the mind of the tool, when he would inevitably be sent to the frontline for an unknown period of time. For the sake of the Village.  

(It had nothing to do with the boy who has a smile reminiscent of the Sun itself, and what of the earth in the absence of such warmth and propriety? An empty, barren land, devoid of life, of nature. And the Hatake namesake, whose bloodline was said to have been blessed by Inari Okami themself, have always looked towards the light.)

—-”Congratulations, or whatever!”

There were nary information he knew about the Hatake clan, but one of the more recent ones, the myths that that man had once told him in passing—

“The Hatake were fond of nature, we came from the earth, and shall return to it one day. We favour each crop, each plant that is blessed upon our lands. That is why,” His father smooshed back Kakashi’s hair from his forehead with a gentle grin, light in his eyes that has yet to be extinguished, “flowers mean so much to us. They represent the circle of life, its very essence, and each one signifies their own distinct meaning. To a Hatake, to receive flowers–

Is considered the highest form of honour.”

…

…It has nothing to do.

He just prepared the one glass vase he had for use because it had been collecting dust for a while, nothing more. (Though, the assortment of flowers looked really lovely as an offering to the antique background of the old Hatake clanhouse, and the wind breezed, carrying with it the scent )

He got a particularly thick book from the study room, pressed the salvaged petals, and remade them into small bookmarks, because he wanted to test the knowledge he’d happened to hear from his female peers, nothing more. (Silently, he gazed at the petals, marvelling at their beauty, much more so at their meanings. Love primarily, but also respect, goodluck, I wish you fame. Obito, begrudgingly he admitted, knew how to choose his flowers well). 

He placed one of his newly-made bookmarks in his tool pouch, colours amongst grey weapons, where it stayed, unseen by nobody else but him. (The other at his family shrine, where he lit an incense and left it there)

Until Kannabi, where his whole world shattered and the Sun was buried beneath a mountain of rocks. Until he betrayed and shoved his hand through the chest of the girl he’d considered even gentler than the flowers, breaking his promise. (And he has always been a liar, hasn’t he?)

A bit, until his ANBU days (darkness and blood).

A long more, until his Genin team came and left. 

And longer, well until the 4th Great Ninja (betrayal and reconciliation), until his death.

The colour has faded over the years, but their meaning stayed. 

Omake 3: It would be Impossible! Dry paint Would Have A Better Chance. 

“It’s rare for you to pick out something.” Haibara said, with a knowing grin. He shouldered Nanami in good nature. “Usually, it’s just me picking up the souvenirs for the others.”

Nanami grunted, in the middle of looking over the tea section. 

“Picking up a little something for a certain someone?” The dark-haired sorcerer teased, and Nanami looked away with a silent gruff. 

“Aw man, you’re so whipped!” Haibara guffawed, doubling over to clutch at his stomach. Quietly, because they were still in public, and he did not want to cause too much of a commotion. Plus, he was also holding onto his own shopping basket, which was filled by a variety of goodies he’d chosen for his schoolmates. They were filling time with their usual after-mission shopping, a few hours before they were due to be picked up by an Auxiliary Manager. 

Except, this time, it was not only Haibara picking up a cart but also Nanami (who was deliberately avoiding Haibara’s eyes when he was doing so), and so has led to Haibara having the time of his life (softly) teasing his usually stoic teammate. Because while he was having fun, Haibara really did not want to discourage Nanami, because believe it or not, when he first met Nanami during their First Year together, he was even more close-off, quiet and barely able to hold a conversation. It took Haibara a very active part to get the other to warm up to him, his patience due to his own experience in raising his younger sister. 

So to see Nanami going out of his shell like this, well, Haibara felt like a proud parent, watching his kid taking his first step. 

His classmate turned to give him the most piercing of glares. It would have been intimidating, if not for the fact that the tips of his ears were red and there was a slight flush on his cheeks. “I. Am. Not. Whipped.” He pressed, shoving another sachet of Sakura-flavoured cookies with the others. “I’m just…trying to repay a favour. Don’t you smile like that.” He warned at the twinkle in his yearmate’s eyes. 

Haibara held up his hands in a placating manner, still feeling delighted. 

Nanami returned to his contemplation of the shelves lined with a colourful assortment of tea products. There were literally tens of different varieties for each flavour, not including factors of how they were prepared (which lead to different kinds of Japanese tea, such as matcha, hojicha, sencha, mugicha, kombucha , to say the least). Some were powder, some were in tea sachets, and there were even ones that straight up just used a whole flower to steep tea.  

Nanami has read that various teas may strengthen the immune system, reduce inflammation, and even stave off cancer and heart disease, according to numerous studies. That sounds good, tea sounds good. Albeit, Nanami doesn’t know what tea type he should get. As aforementioned before, there were a lot, not including the imported brands. Fruit teas were also popular right now, using in-seasonal fruits as a basis. 

Should I get only tea? Or something else as well? Would that be too much? Would a couple of snacks be enough? Savoury ones? Sweet ones? 

Wait, does Kakashi even like sweets to begin with? Not like they would be good for him anyway. Well, he does need the calories considering he looks like a haggard after being blown away by the slightest breeze, so perhaps Nanami should just go for a different kind of souvenir entirely. Sigh. Why is a task so simple such as getting a souvenir could turn into a complicated, convoluted manner? Troublesome. 

Nanami stopped at the bemused expression on Haibara's face, the other obviously hearing every bit of his soliloquy. 

“I’m going to go pay.” The blonde grumbled. “You can pay for those yourself.” He walked away in a huff, every single inch of his skin aflame. 

‘Whipped,’ Haibara giggled behind a palm. ‘So very whipped’.

Afterwards, they stopped by one of Nanami’s favourite bakery places, and this time, when the blonde took more than his typical share, Haibara decided not to say anything. 

.

.

.

Suguru rolled his shoulders, feeling a satisfying crack as his joint groaned in appreciation. He had just finished delivering his report to Yaga-sensei and was on his way back to his dormitory room, but the weather was simply too nice to not enjoy, so he opted for a slow walk around the school grounds first. 

Well, that was the plan , until he found himself being pulled roughly by the scruff of his shirt, caught off guard so suddenly that he went tumbling into the row of shrubs that lined the centre of the grounds. Instincts flared, muscles already sizing up at the ambush (again, again, was it that that monkey–! )

“Get down, Geto!” Shoko scolded him, and Suguru almost immediately apologised but stopped because he was the one who was pulled so suddenly into a bush. So he straightened himself, secretly exhaling a sigh of relief that he’d restrained from vomiting up a curse on the spot, lest he accidentally behead his teammate. 

Except when he cracked his eye open, he was met with an unexpected bunch. 

He asked, thumbing against his forehead, “What are you guys doing?”

You guys referring to the group consisting of Shoko, Utahime, and Yu, huddling together in the small, measly protection provided by the shrub.  They were already dangerously close to piling out from the shrub in a heap; Haibara, obviously, was taking care not to lean his weight on any of the girls as he twisted himself into a weird pretzel, and now add Geto to the mix, who was even broader and taller than Haibara, the four was squished much like sardines in a can, Geto squinted at his yearmate, Shoko, who blinked back at him from where her face was smothered against Utahime’s chest, who in turn, was straining herself from being pushed headfirst from the foliage by Haibara’s legs. 

The three reply, strangely in sync, all with shifty eyes that Geto doesn’t trust one bit,  “Nothing.”

The thing about Geto’s schoolmates is that he had enough interactions with them to know that Nothing always means Something . So he took matters into his own hands, pushing past from under Haibara’s arms, muttered an apology at Utahime’s chagrined and unapologetically trade equally blank looks with Shoko, who–

–jabbed him between the ribs, effectively stopping him from moving further. 

“Geto,” Shoko said, in the deadpanned tone that she typically used whenever she wants something, lest she stab him in the kidneys, “Stop.”

Geto did, if only because he did feel something pointy prickling against his hips. His lips quipped in amusement despite the situation, as he turned to raise an eyebrow back at his schoolmates, who all sport variations of the deer-in-the-headlights appearances. 

“First,” Shoko said, “Don’t tell Gojo.”

Well, fucking shit. 

“What is this about?” Geto immediately jumped to attention at the mention of the white-haired idiot. “Did something serious happen?”

Utahime and Shoko shared a look. 

Haibara spoke up this time, quite timidly, “Well, define serious, Geto-senpai–”

The junior laughed nervously, averting Geto’s unimpressed stare at him with a hanging head (he knew Haibara looked up to him, maybe too much). Suguru thinks that the kind-hearted junior really should stop hanging out with the girls, they really were a bad influence on him. He never thought of Haibara to be the type to gossip, though perhaps, considering his upbringing as an older brother to a younger sister, Haibara just decided to let his true colours fly.

Honestly, Jujutsu sorcerers and their penchant to gossip. 

“Geto,” Once more, Geto’s yearmate poked him, this time between the eyes, “Do you recall how…gushy Gojo is when it comes to his brother…?”

(It was here that Utahime muttered to herself, but loud enough for others to hear due to their proximity, “Still can’t believe that idiot have a older sibling out of all things,”, nevermind the fact that her sentence seems to insinuate that Gojo is anything but human.)

Geto recalled that one point where Satoru had dropped the bomb upon him and Shoko over a little more than a year ago, after the idiot brought back a box of the most delicious creampuffs that Suguru had ever had. Kinda hard to forget, where Satoru had proceeded to explain details and characters of his brother in a rushed gush of numerous adjectives consisting of ‘amazing, caring, innocent‘ in varying ways and synonyms that Suguru didn’t think could exist together in a sentence, much less a whole damn essay.

Point case was, yes, Suguru indeed remembered that hour-long enthuse.  

“I fail to see the correlation between that and why there are 4 Jujutsu sorcerers currently hiding in a bush.” Geto replied. “Move over.”

Shoko finally conceded.

Brushing aside some of the branches just enough to form a small hole amongst the leaves, Geto looked. And looked some more. 

And said, “You guys seriously need something better to gossip about.”

There was a chorus of groans. 

“Of course this blockhead wouldn’t get it. He’s with the other more annoying blockhead after all.”

Geto gaped, aghast, affronted but unable to deny it. Instead, to escape the criticism, he went back to the peephole he’d just made, and indeed yes, there was his other junior, Nanami, who actually looked mildly inconvenienced about something, before that expression broke off into a neutral pleasantry as he said something to someone to his left. Suguru followed his line of sight, and was met with a familiar mop of hair that could have passed as a bird’s nest, albeit this one was a shade of darker silver than the usual cloudy colour.

“What are they talking about?” Considering Nanami actually looked passionate about it. 

“Bread.”

“Bread?”

“Bread.”

“....again, you guys need something better to do with your time.”

.

.

.

Where in the damn hell has Haibara gone off this time?

Nanami discreetly glanced at his watch for the umpteeth time in the last minute. The brunette had gone off carrying their other bags of souvenirs, saying he was just taking a quick trip to distribute them, and to not wait for him. Which had left him with Kakashi, who conveniently was the first person they saw when they returned to the school. The silver-haired man had insisted that he did not escape from the infirmary (this time), and was actually discharged. He was free to explore the school grounds on his own, an activity which apparently involved napping in that one tree near the school Torii gates. Nanami and Haibara only noticed him when there was a drawl of “Welcome back~” coming lazily from somewhere above.

“You know, I rarely have bread.” Kakashi had first admitted as soon as Nanami presented him his share of souvenirs as well as a bag procured from one of the finest bakery shops in Tokyo, stating that he and Haibara got it for him. They then relocated to the central area, where there were benches under the shades, providing much protection from the Summer sun. “Much less pastry.”

“Hmm?” Such a horrifying prospect. Nanami, however, physically recoiled at a much more terrible thought. Did he get something that Kakashi does not like or cannot eat?  “Is there a problem?” He asked, dreading the answer. 

“Not at all~” A customary eye-curl that indicated a smile. “Though, I feel like I wouldn’t be able to thoroughly enjoy it fully without knowing what it’s called, at least. What’s this one?” He held up a croque-monsieur . 

And thus lead to Nanami explaining the different kinds of bread, their histories and what order they should be best consumed with. All the while, Kakashi nodded and ahhed at various points. Nanami doesn't really know whether the other was listening or not, but it was a way to pass the time, and he was not about to let such a chance slip (especially since it was about his favourite food out of all things).

“---There’s three types of long breads, usually. There’s the neutral-type called long breads, then there’s filled bread, like this croque-monsieur , and then there’s pastries…”

“Uh huh,” Was all Kakashi said, as he was now too busy nibbling on one of the special daily lunch sandwiches that Nanami had got him. It was curry flavoured. And it was really such a delicacy that he actually chomped it down in one go. 

(…He really did. Somehow. Through his face mask. N-not that Nanami was interested in seeing what Gojo looks like anyway, but the one second the blonde’s sight diverged from him, the whole bun was gone. Like poof . Not even breadcrumbs remained. Kakashi merely blinked at Nanami’s perplexion, before asking for water.) 

Which brought us back to the Bush Gang. Haibara did actually intend to just give the souvenirs to Shoko, but Utahime had also happened to be in the area, wanting to see Shoko before she had to return to Kyoto. When Haibara mentioned that he had left Nanami with Kakashi, the girls’ eyes had sparkled with an odd light; Utahime wanted to see the person responsible for the tittle-tattle of the past week, Shoko just wanted to see her junior squirm when left alone with Gojo Satoru’s sibling. 

“Especially considering Gojo’s overprotective streak. I could already imagine his face seeing this. Or murderous intent.”

“Poor Nanami,” Haibara moaned. “Not that I’m not happy for him, but I’m sad that his life’s gonna be cut so short. The pain of youthful endeavour!”

“You guys are exaggerating a lot.” Suguru shook his head. “Satoru wouldn’t go that far—“

Flashback:

“Satoru, what’s this I’m hearing from Shoko,” Suguru started, throwing the door of the idiot’s room open. He snapped his flip phone close as he made himself right at home, “about you scaring off the First Years to the point that she had to perform emergency psychological trauma healing?”

Satoru was lying on the floor, staring blankly up the ceiling. He perked up slightly when Suguru barged in, presumably because he thought Suguru had brought snacks with him, but wilted instantly at the other’s intention to scold him for his misdeed instead. 

“They deserve it!” The other plopped and spread his limbs like a starfish. “They were looking at him…wrong.”

“Explain.”

Satoru wailed. 

The thing about Satoru is that you need to get to the point quickly or else he will skirt around it with random topics. Thus, Suguru exhaled, closing the door so the conversation could not be heard nor interrupted and went straight for the throat. “Are you not happy that Kakashi is well-liked? Unlike a certain someone I know.” He nudged Satoru with his foot. 

“I am happy,” Satoru said, rolling his eyes at the jab (it’s not his fault his mouth made him unpopular with the girls!), “But…they’re being a bit too close to my liking. Crowding around him like a flock of birds. Pushing him, trying to get him to show off his technique. And Kakashi-nii just let them .” 

The white-haired sorcerer, for the lack of a better term, sulked. Satoru’s lips were pulled into a full pout, and when his cerulean eyes graced themselves upon Suguru, the curse eater found himself shaking his head, enamoured by the typical sight. 

Suguru sat next to Satoru, who kicked his legs up into the air in a show of restlessness. 

“I thought you wanted your brother a chance to form new connections. Why intervene?”

For a few seconds, Satoru did not answer. His expression however; the knits of his brows, the scrunch of his nose, indicated that he was thinking hard about something.

Satoru then pressed his face into the pillow with a mumble, “...I do. I just…” 

“I just don’t want to see him getting hurt again .” The words got muter and quieter. “...He’s suffering enough as it is. I don’t want to see people taking advantage of his heart, for his name or for his relation with me. You’ve seen the worst of it with me, Suguru, the lengths that people go to to get what they want. I don’t want people getting close to him purely for that.” 

Taken back at the admission, Suguru only composed himself to lay what he thought was an encouraging hand upon the other’s shoulder, rubbing it. 

“Do you think Kakashi as someone who needs protecting all the time?” He did make Suguru promise that they’ll look out for him, together. 

“Of course not!” Satoru threw a glare at his other half, obviously annoyed and angry at the insinuation. “Kakashi-nii is not a weak, naive idiot! He’s far from it.” Sounding very sure in his assessment, he punched Suguru on the shoulder to prove his point, albeit the force was deliberately light. Suguru knew that Satoru could effortlessly slam him through the wall like he’d done once before. 

“But?” Suguru prompted gently at the faraway distant haze in that powerful gaze. 

“It’s just–” Satoru’s messy head knocked against Suguru’s. His next tone was almost…brittle. Vulnerable. A side that he only showed to the people closest to him, past the exterior, aloof facade of the Six Eyes. “Suguru, what if…one day the people he thought he could trust betrayed him? He wouldn’t be able to take it again. I don’t even think I could take it.” 

Suguru, unable to meet the azure irises, looked away. “You’re thinking about it too much. I think those First Years were just curious, nothing ill-intended.” Though the way Satoru has been phrasing it, his brother seems to have quite the history, to prompt this much of a reaction from Satoru. 

(And Suguru was still secretly waiting for an explanation from Satoru regarding the hint of a curse he detected in Kakashi, but the other has yet…)

“Yeah, but what if they do ? Kakashi-nii is just too friendly sometimes! Plus, he shares my good looks too, you know. Who knows if they’re going for that . I can’t be too careful.” 

His kind, gentle-hearted idiot Satoru– (This horrible, monkey-ridden world does not deserve you)

“Aw man, it’s so simple!” Standing up so suddenly, Satoru exclaimed, a brilliant idea striking him. 

“I can just kill all of them.”

“No.” Suguru sighed, whacking Satoru with the roll of newspaper he’d managed to conjure out of thin air. Satoru hissed at him like a feral cat, so he received another smack for that. 

Flashback end:

“….No, you’re right.” Suguru finished instead. “Satoru will absolutely decimate everything in the area if he finds out.”

“Good for Nanami though,” Shoko said, “Didn’t think he had it in him.”

Feeling the stare of his schoolmates bearing down at the back of his head, Nanami threw a sardonic glare over his shoulder, and was immediately met with three sets of thumb ups and an exasperated expression (When did Geto-senpai get here and why is he in on it?). His eye twitched minutely with irritation, and when Kakashi’s attention was focused on his food, Nanami quickly went down to grab a pebble to throw into that annoying bush. 

The bush squealed. 

Seemingly oblivious to the shenanigans of his brother’s schoolmates, Kakashi sneaked another bite of fluffy bread into his mouth, giving a gentle hum at the savoury spice rolling around on his taste buds. It was really good. Maybe he could somehow replicate the recipe later? He should ask where exactly this lovely bakery store was so he could venture there with Satoru once he was free.

Kakashi turned to Nanami to do so, who was striking a throwing pose for some reason with his arms jutting out, which drew Kakashi’s notice.

“You’re hurt.”

The 2nd Year glanced at Kakashi, whose gaze had dropped to Nanami’s hands. Nanami followed, where there were slight, red welts running across the back of his knuckles, an injury he had gotten when he resorted to physically punching the curse with his ratio technique after the thing knocked away his hatchet. He had laced his fists with a cover of cursed energy to act as a cushion, but the curse’s tough skin and protrusions still pierced through the impact. 

“Just a bruise, nothing to worry about.” It really does not hurt anymore. Though maybe he really should invest in gloves or something in the future. Maybe a tie if he’s desperate enough. 

There was a small noncommittal hum, before a shift of movement. The silver-haired man was suddenly closer, before he took hold of Nanami’s sleeve, a gentle tug to draw his request. 

“May I?”

“...” Unable to deny (and he refused to say that he was…uh, whipped), Nanami just let Kakashi drag his limbs for closer observation. He didn’t really know whether Kakashi has real medical expertise or not, but at this point, he really just wanted those deep, focused ashy greys to stop…doing that .

The Gojo was muttering something about not having proper control over his reserves yet, before sighing. “At least you’ve cleaned it. A lot of people tend to overlook that.” 

Nanami glanced at where their hands met. Kakashi’s was very pale, almost translucent to the point where his veins were clearly visible. Despite the fact that the Gojo was beginning to spend more time outside as compared to his previous time at the Gojo manor, he was still looking unhealthily pasty, like…like–

It only occurred to Nanami that he might have been staring a little too hard and a little too long because when Kakashi spoke out, waggling his fingers gripped by Nanami’s appendages, tone considerably mild, “Is there something wrong?”

Nanami bluntly stated, “You look like an undercooked croissant.”

“Oh.” 

…

( “Nnnnaannaaamiiiiii—” Four –yes, even Geto at this point, was exasperated at the bluntness)

“It’s really nothing,” Nanami said hotly, refusing to feel embarrassed as he pulled his hand back. “Just a minor scratch that’ll heal on its own, it’s nothing to bother Ieiri-senpai about, especially since she’s busy most of the time .”

He threw a discreet glare over at the bush, which rustled in retaliation. 

“Uhuh,” Still oblivious to the sentient bush, Kakashi reached out into the brown paper bag he had brought, before brandishing a familiar fruit. With careful fingers, he began to meticulously peel his favourite tangerine, which Nanami doesn’t know whether it was still in season or not. But this one looks fresh enough, plump and round as Kakashi made quick work of getting rid of its outer layer.

“Here.”

Instead of handing over the piece onto his palm, like he had expected any normal person would do, Kakashi pulled off a carpel, before lifting it to Nanami’s mouth with an expectant look.

…!

“I-I’m not a kid who needs to be coddled with–!” Nanami huffed, spluttering. He politely turned his head away, but when Kakashi continued to daggle the piece of fruit, he relented, just so he could quickly mute the various odd sounds coming from that one shrub behind him . 

He bit down on the edge of the flesh, and quickly moved away to properly pop it into his mouth. It was very juicy, sweet and slightly tart, almost squirting from his lips when he bit down. He tried to cover such an unsightly manner from the other with a palm, certainly not to hide the flush of intense warmth that was burning his cheeks and ears.

Kakashi nodded, apparently pleased. 

Much to Nanami’s horror, he continued to peel off another carpel to offer it like a treat to a dog. Taking note of the blonde’s demeanour, the Gojo stopped. 

“No need to be embarrassed,” The other said with a cock of his head, “I do this with Satoru all the time.”

‘No wonder he’s spoiled, ’ was the thought of everyone in the vicinity, simultaneously conjuring up an image of a younger, though no more annoying, Gojo Satoru being fed with tangerines until his cheeks popped.

“Here, come on. It’s going to sting if the juice drops into those gashes.” Kakashi moved closer, determination set in his brow. With a low, serious murmur, he clasped Nanami’s wrist with a gentle, yet firm grip, “Plus, I want to return the favor from feeding me plenty today. I won’t stop until you accept it.”

…

W-W-What is this strange scene?! Accompanied with hooded stormy eyes, an insistent tug of the hand and a peek of the wrist, you would think that Kakashi was offering anything but the tangerine! There was a lot of weird squeaking and noises of indignation coming from not only a fully-reddened Nanami, who was valiantly standing his ground but also from that one damn bush which was practically shaking.

Honestly, doesn't his seniors have anything better to do??! And Haibara, stop gossiping already and save him come back—!

Nanami Kento would not call himself a brave person, but he also would not classify himself a coward either. He has fought curses, beings made literally from the worsts that humanity has to offer, grotesque creatures that do not discriminate in killing, eating, consuming–

He would not back down .

A tip of the head sent strands of pure white, an illuminating halo of light against dark lashes. 

…

“...I got it. Fine.” Sorely defeated, Nanami let Kakashi feed him the rest of the tangerine, pointedly directing his gaze at his grazed knuckles, as if blaming them for landing him in this situation. 

He’s whipped. He’s so very whipped. 

Once the last piece was gone, Kakashi, satisfied at a job well-done, nodded to himself and patted Nanami’s head, who was simply too out of it to even react. 

Once the silver-haired sorcerer turned his back to sort through the rest of the snacks, Nanami covered his face with his hands, internally screaming, knowing that his schoolmates would tease him about this for years to come. 

Well, at least he did not suffer long because soon, Nanami became aware that no, he was not imagining his limbs shaking from pure shock and mortification. In fact, everything was shaking slightly, 

“Wait, do you feel that?” Nanami stood, snapping out of his self-made stupor. He side-eyed the trees, at the small animals that were scurrying or flying away, as well at the rustling leaves, “...Tremors…?”

The 2nd year reached for his hatchet, preparing for an attack. Here? Inside the school? Impossible. And yet, the tremors were becoming stronger, more intense with every passing second. In the horizon, flocks of birds took to the sky, squawking in fear at the incoming threat. Certainly, it was coming closer and closer towards the centre.

(Suguru sat back on his haunches, groaning, for he knew these mini earthquakes quite well).

A shockwave coursed through the area, a reverberating boom of collapsed metals and dissipating concrete. To their right, where the rows of buildings were located, half of the front structure had collapsed upon itself, having been smashed through with great force and high velocity. A massive cloud of dust settled in the park, and Nanami readied his weapon, tensing when he saw a blurry silhouette making its way from the carnage. 

Ah, saved by the devil himself. 

Kakashi was the first one to greet the huffy teenager. “Ah, Satoru, welcome back.”

Gojo Satoru’s glare was apparent even when hidden behind his usual round sunglasses, scoping out the surroundings with a fervent haze. He appeared to be agitated about something, judging from the rapid tapping of his foot, and his spread arms after he came to a stop in front of the bench, the last of the dense wisps dissipating from his form with the breeze.  

“Gojo-senpai,” Slumping backwards into his seat, Nanami started, not as a way of greeting, but of one of condemnation. Purely because– “You just destroyed part of our classrooms.”

“Uh huh.”

“And split the staffroom in half.”

“Uh huh.”

“ And ruined the central garden.”

The other made a show of sweeping his eyes over the destruction, hands in his pockets, lips pulled into a ridiculous pout, “Must have been the wind.” 

“Well anyway–” Nanami’s eye twitched when Satoru proceeded to ignore him, flashing a jubilant beam at his brother instead, “Nii-san~ What were you doing?”

Kakashi held up the half-eaten fruit in his hand for Satoru to see, “Peeling tangerine,” he said, continuing his trend of ignoring anything Plain and Obvious for today, “Also having some light lunch. Want some?”

“Do I!”

Gojo then proceeded to show his characteristics as the utmost upstanding, compassionate, kind senpai that he definitely (not) was–

–by shoving Nanami aside and depositing his ass right between him and Kakashi. Considering his size, and the fact that the bench was not really made for three people, Nanami found himself unwillingly plastered against the very individual that could single-handedly make young Nanami’s blood pressure skyrocketed to the clouds and beyond. Indeed, it was taking every single fibre of Nanami’s being to not try and throttle Gojo-senpai right there and then, the other only holding back because 1) he was still holding onto the bags containing precious bakery goods 2) Kakashi, his family member, was currently there (and still currently inhaling food literally through his mask what the fuck–), and unlike a certain someone , Nanami could be a civilised human being. 

Gojo-senpai, whistling, reached out into bakery packages, and pulled out a perfectly shaped croquette bread, his rough hold squashing the delicate wrapping and tearing apart the delicate food. 

Well, Nanami was trying . 

“Gojo-senpai, please ask next time before you decide to squander.” Nanami said, hurriedly taking away the precious baked cargo away before any more damages could be done, “Especially since you clearly do not know how to appreciate the finer side of life.”

The Third Year managed a melodramatic gasp at the accusation, hand on his chest. “Nanami you killjoy! Of course I know the proper way to eat! The order…or something! I know!”

Then he reached the inside of his uniform and unceremoniously pulled out a bottle of chocolate sauce out of all things (how did that even fit inside his pocket?), ripped the covering of the croquette bread before–

Ah. Oh no. 

“Lookie! And this reminds me of the time McDonalds released that limited edition McFry Potato with Chocolate sauce!”

S-such sacrilege–!

Kakashi speedily interrupted just before Nanami could hurl the whole bench over with them still sitting on it, “Satoru, your mission finished quickly, didn’t it? How was it?”

Having been called by his sibling, Gojo-senpai’s demeanour noticeably, marginally, softened, mellowing until he was nothing sort of putty. Nanami would have marvelled at such a peculiar sight if he was not too busy glaring holes at it instead. “Ah yeah, nothing I couldn’t handle, you know, as usual. It’s almost too boring! A bzzt and a swoosh! And they’re all gone. Just the workload is too much, considering it’s summer…”

There was a small hum as Kakashi, true to his earlier statement, offered a slice of the freshly-peeled tangerine straight to Gojo-senpai’s lips, who shamelessly munched it in front of his junior with a certain sort of glee. Nanami didn’t dare to denigrate him, lest he would spontaneously combust. 

Hazedly, as Nanami was debating inwardly to himself the option to just leave (for the sake of his sanity) or continue to stay, Kakashi’s voice chimed, “I thought you weren’t due for a couple of hours at least, since you also said you were checking out the grand opening of a new desserts cafe.”

At that, a frown made its way onto the wielder of the Six Eyes, a frankly distressed stretch of his lips. “I wanted to. It’s just that…I just had a very bad feeling. A verrryyy bad feeling. That a couple of already forbidden steps were skipped and went straight to… ”Something scandalous. Like h-handholding or something! 

But the only possible culprit that could have sent off his ‘Kakashi-nii Was In The Other Kind of Danger’ radar was…

Satoru’s eyes shifted towards Nanami, who was still wedged beside him with a grumpy cat expression. Feeling the blatant observation upon his person, the blonde looked up, customary glare of hazel that met headon with that of azure. His junior was clutching onto his dearly baked goods for dear life, obviously refusing to let Satoru take any more of it. 

Was he worried? Of this sullen, grumpy, wet blanket? 

…

Nahhhh, Nanami couldn’t seduce dry paint on the wall even if he wanted to. 

“Steps…?” His poor brother was understandably confused, yet prompted at his pause.

“...Nothing.” Closing his eyes as he offered Kakashi and Nanami a very wild grin, he tossed his head back and laughed, “Must be my imagination! Hahaha–”

“GOJO SATORU!!! Look at what you’ve done!”

For the second time that day, the whole school grounds rumbled, quaking terribly at another terrible opponent.

Masamuchi Yaga-sensei, ready to give Satoru the ass-whooping of his life, was approaching at rapid speed with his sleeves already rolled up. 

Gojo-senpai’s usual smile twisted into a blanch, complexion paling against his will. 

“Now, now, sensei, let’s not point fingers at each other, let us have a nice, civil discussion like proper human beings,” Gojo-senpai said, holding up his hands in mock surrender at his teacher (who was cracking his knuckles), amicable, before, almost predictably, pointed a thumb towards his junior with a straight-laced face, “By the way, it was Nanami.”

“LIKE HELL.”

“Huh,” Shoko started, biting onto a cigarette as the bush group made themselves scarce from the scene lest they got involved in cleanup duty. Unfortunately Nanami got roped into it because he was too wound up to even think about escaping, and while holding a broom next to a pouting Gojo, who was nursing the multiple bumps on his head, the blonde’s brows have never been so deeply furrowed into his forehead. And what of Kakashi, you would think? Apparently when Yaga had turned to address him, the older Gojo had seemingly disappeared into thin air, tangerines and bread and all, the only indication that he was ever there being a small pile of leaves scattered on the bench. 

“I’m surprised Gojo didn’t throttle Nanami to the Shadow Realm just for sitting next to Kakashi-san. Oh don’t look at me like that, Geto. You know he’d made the First Years severely traumatised on the account of just looking at him…ahh, how did Gojo describe it? ‘Looking at his beloved, innocent Nii-nii with their undesirable, unworthy mortal gaze, full of unbridled and predatory lust, just waiting to tear sinfully’ ,”

“Great, add ‘Hard Bro-con’ to Gojo’s already long list of irredeemable aspects,” Utahime rolled her eyes while Haibara, who had just finished sending Nanami an apologetic text message on his flip phone, looked up with a thoughtful brow, “Maybe he didn’t notice?” A pause. “Or maybe he just thinks Kento is not a threat to a perceived criteria?” All three seniors looked at him, so he sheepishly added, “I learnt that from one of my sis’s dating magazines.”

“Fair.”

“You know what would be hilarious?” Utahime’s slight giggle was quite frankly, mischievous that Geto wondered if she had secretly drunk sake in the infirmary with Shoko again (Granted, she was of legal drinking age, with her being the oldest in the current group…).

“What?”

“That if Nanami-san is indeed, what you call it, a threat .”

Geto could already feel the headache forming from imagining that. 

“Oh, that would be the day.”

Haibara interjected quickly to protect his best friend’s (lack of) dateability with a scandalous gasp, “Don’t be like that! I, for one, believe in Kento!”

Believe in what? His ability to get squash by an overprotective bro-con? Geto squeezed his nose, sighing deeply at the topic. He just wants to faceplant himself into his pillow already. He didn’t want to get involved in some gossiping circle with the girls (and Haibara, bless his heart). 

Yet he lingered.

Haibara tried, “You guys just saw! I mean, Kakashi initiated most of them out of sheer coincidences and friendly intentions, but still! That’s progress! Who else just skips towards the hand feeding phase anyway?”

“Uh huh.” Certainly not because Kakashi has some screwed social interaction skills or anything from growing up in forced isolation. 

Haibara said seriously, as point, “Kento got him flowers the other day as well. Of his own volition.”

Utahime gasped like it was truly a miracle. Shoko schemed, with her usual dead stare, now beginning to see the light of day, the light metaphorically being Nanami’s ability to actually not be an uptight, upright ass.  

Suguru remembered the vase of flowers he saw in the infirmary room the other day. Ah, so it was Nanami who got those? How nice. 10 points. 

The kimono-clad sorcerer fixed her animated smile at Shoko, “See? Haibara-san just wonderfully illustrated my point. Nanami-san has potential…though from what I just saw, he’ll get throttle by Gojo wayyy before he could have a chance.”

“Oh, I think not.” Quick to change her tune, Shoko placed her gamble with a wink, “I think he could do it. In fact, I think he’ll even succeed with Gojo none the wiser.”

Utahime snorted at that ridiculous declaration, “You wanna bet?”

“A wager, you mean.”

“Fine. How much?” 

Jujutsu sorcerers. Gossip. Case point. 

“You want in, Geto?” 

“Do I even have a choice at this point?”

Geto did not. And so, the currently longest and still ongoing betting pool about how long would it take for one Nanami Kento to confess his (kindling) (blooming) (dry to the point of being the exact opposite of an oasis) affections to one Gojo Kakashi without suffering an unfortunate death at the hands of one Gojo Satoru. It was at first, just made available to the four of them, but somehow, somewhen, the word spread, and once more, the gossip vines were absolutely blooming like crazy considering Satoru’s notoriety regarding Kakashi, everyone putting forward their bets. 

When Nanami first heard this, to say that he was displeased, was a great understatement. 

“HAI-BA-RA.”

“Uwahahaha, h-hold on, I was just protecting your honour—!”

Omake Seasonal Special Bonanza: Happy Halloween!

The leaves were just shy of turning the brilliant hue of orange and yellow, the days becoming shorter and the temperature dropping marginally as the season turns. 

And thus, it was declared–

“HAPPY HALLOWEEN!”

Yuuji looked over at his sensei (who has struck a theoretical pose of pointing at the sky), wiping sticky sweat from his neck. It was cooler, but it was still hell to train, especially considering how strict Gojo-sensei’s training regiments were. Thus, when the man had taken a slight break —more like he had spent several minutes suddenly contemplating the leaves on the trees, the First years were glad and decided not to bother him. 

“The scent of Autumn! Where it’s cold so you put on your socks but somehow still warm enough to make you sweat–” Gojo-sensei was still ranting as Yuuji passed his water bottle to a flushed Nobara, who complained about her new tracksuits having tears in them. 

“Let’s have a Halloween party!” 

…

“That’s still a few weeks away.” 

“Pergh!” Satoru turned towards his dark-haired student with a faux-disappointed look, “Listen, it’s never too early to start preparing for a holiday, you know? It’s good for the mind and the soul; you get to beat the traffics, the long queue at the counter when people decided to do their last minute shopping, the crowds of people pressing onto you from all sides when you’re stuck in the mall listening to the same holiday chime for the umpteenth time–”

“You just want an excuse to eat candy,” was Fushiguro Megumi’s unrelenting remark, jutting his chin out like a rebellious teen. He was in a bit of a sour mood after getting pummelling by Gojo-sensei. 

Satoru pretended not to hear that, maybe because of how the truth was better left ignored for the fun of living in ignorance. (Also because he didn’t want to admit Megumi was right).

Still, the plan to have a Halloween-themed party was not necessarily outrageous— for in Japan, usually it’s an all-out excuse for a huge cosplay street party, one of the biggest seasonal events of the country. Not like the Western-style of going Trick-or-Treating, which Satoru thinks is the best part of Halloween. But usually considering the hectic work hours of the Jujutsu sorcerrors, which typically mean no holidays whatsoever, events like this are usually missed out on. Fun stuff should always be enjoyed thoroughly, and the teenagers should enjoy life while they can. 

These kids may be talented sorcerers that may surpass even him someday, but that doesn’t mean that they should sacrifice their youth for it. 

Yuuji and Nobara were excited at the prospect of having their first taste of a Halloween party in the big city, their eyes large and wide with adoration and spry joy. They immediately rounded upon each other with loud exclamations on what to wear; the list of possibilities being made known to everyone in the clearing in loud outbursts.  

Megumi watched them with attempted gloominess, but there was also minute fondness embedded in his stare, one that Gojo almost prod fun at, but thought better of it. Instead, he reaffirmed (very loudly) that they were going to celebrate Halloween, and for extra spice, he added that they were going to be graded for their costumes~~

Leaving his students to discuss amongst themselves (Nobara was screaming, “If there’s going to be a party, then I’m going to look my goddamn best!”) Gojo decided to spread the good word. It’s always great to celebrate with a lot of people after all. 

Cue a few days later, on a chilly night, when the party was due in a few hours, Kakashi, shifty-eyed, sent him to get some more marshmallows and some extra ramune.

“But it’s Halloween eve! There’s going to be a ton of people at the store!” Satoru whined. 

“Do you want desserts or not?”

Grumbling, he went to do as he was told, but not without finding a stand-in helper first. He  didn’t find Megumi, who he suspected was deliberately hiding from him (“I’m going to see your costume sooner or later, Megumin~”), so he found the next best person.  

With Yuuji in tow, who was more than happy to brave the sea of people for him, the goods were safely procured, and mission accomplished! All is well! Halloween is saved!

Or so he thinks.

When he nudged open the front door of the cabin, he was met with an unexpected sight. 

Flesh. Naked flesh. Unsolicited, unmarked, valley of muscles.

Slowly from the a particular contour of the hips, Satoru’s gaze travelled up from cream-coloured khaki pants, top with a swirl-inspired hip scarf, to slim [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED], of [REDACTED] muscles that could [REDACTED] [REDACTED], until he barreled past the neckline to met his brother’s–

(It was here that the author felt the need to impose upon the fellow readers a reminder, that Gojo Satoru was, while in fact shows questionable decision-making skills and lines of morality some of the time , still a man with unrelenting strength and willpower, that cares very very (too) much for his brother to point of being farcical. Such love is such strong familiar love that Satoru managed to directly censor the paragraphs of words that flew in his head, for such amp descriptions would directly turn the fic into Forbidden territory.

Maybe in another fic, where the author has lost a bet against her friend to have to write said Forbidden fic.)

And thus, no one would ever know the trail of thoughts that train-freight straight into Gojo Satoru’s brilliant mind in the span of 1 second, resulting in a crash of epic proportions.

“Nii-san,” Distantly from the void of his absent mind, which now purely consisted of a hamster running infinitely on a wheel, Satoru heard himself ask, a pitch shy from turning hysterical, “What are you wearing ?”

Gojo Kakashi, donning the very sparse outfit that vaguely resembled a desert traveller, had the decency to flush (bright pink, a sheen of embarrassment clearly visible of his still thankfully masked face thanks to the tagelmust he was wearing), ashen, stormy eyes lowered to form an expression of tempting temptation shyness, locks of silver, which has been let loose from its usual ponytail, framed the sides of his cheeks in wild curls before coming to a rest at the base of his neck in a hallow pool.

He tugged at the sleeveless crop shirt that barely barely covered the plane of his chest (which also leaves very little to the imagination, the dark material clinging shapely around his collarbones, the curves of his pecs and Gojo is so very very very Gone). 

“Shut up,” Kakashi responded with a scowl at Satoru’s blank stare, and if Satoru wasn’t so out of it, he would have poke fun at how his glowering look was starting to resemble a certain sorcerer. “I know I look ridiculous.”

Yeah, replace ‘ridiculous’ with ‘sinfully unclad’, then Satoru would agree. 

“Ah, Kakashi-san!” Bless Yuuji, who apparently was unaffected by the lewdness ridiculousness of what his brother was wearing, and through the lens of viewing said person as a parental figure, bounded over in his makeshift werewolf outfit, his fake wolf ears dangerously close to lopping off from the side of his head, greeted cheerfully, “Nice costume! It’s….uhhh, sorry, what are you wearing again?”

“Supposedly clothing based on the Arabian Nights,” Maybe thankful for Yuuji’s nonchalant attitude at his exposed indecent peculiar garbs, Kakashi relaxed into his normal, slouched posture (which deepened the contours of his fit stomach; his brother might be slight in physique but he nary miss a day of training despite his bouts of laziness). “I lost a bet, so I have to wear this tonight.” He said, and Satoru waited several long moments for an elaboration, but his brother did not deliver. 

Instead, there was another huff, perhaps from another bout of mortification (A bet? A bet. WhowhoWHO dares to make his innocent brother wear…. this ?), before Kakashi spun on his sandals-clad heels with a cough (AND OH GOD, HIS EXPOSED BACK, THE CLEAR LINE OF HIS TAILBONE), the setting orange hue bouncing off the golden ringlets that adorn his bicep and both his shins. “Annnnnyway, the caramel apples are just about to set. Mind helping me lay out the rest of the dessert table?”

Even the mention of glorious sweets failed to snap Satoru out of his reverie. Still trapped in a daze (where his instincts were brawling between throwing every available clothing under the Sun to properly cover Kakashi and destroying said Sun so that no other living creatures would be able to Look), it took Satoru some more long seconds to recognise his student’s voice calling to him in worry (perhaps at how he literally froze on the spot, not a single muscle moving). 

“Yuuji-kun,” Gojo-sensei turned towards his student, and through his usual blindfold, he decreed, with the Six Eyes pulsing with power;

“Tell everyone who has eyes that they’re not allowed to attend the party.”

“Huh?”

Unfortunately, the warning was sent out too late, and legends say that until this day, the outergrounds of the Jujutsu Tokyo Metropolitan school is haunted by a disembodied voice hauntingly screaming warnings to stray travellers who wandered too far away into the desserts deserted landscape of temptation. 

“IF YOU LET YOUR GAZE GO ANY LOWER THAN THAT, THEN I’LL GOUGE YOUR EYEBALLS OUT.”

Truly, an unforgettable Halloween. 

“NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOO,” Gojo caterwauled into the night, chasing after Kakashi with a blanket, “WHO THE FUCK PROPOSED THAT BET—”

(“It was me,” Iori Utahime leaned forward from her lounge chair, staring straight into the camera, The Office style. Her posture was rigid, poised, even when her words were laced with a certain degree of just deserved, “I made the bet. I was drunk, he was drunk, and we betted who could recite page 239 of Love and Crosses perfectly with Shoko as the referee. 

“I won, of course. And thus, I would like to say, for all the years of torment and ridicule delivered by him–” Here she leaned closer to the metaphorical mic on screen, her eyes darkening;

“Karma is a bitch, eh, Gojo.”

—x—

Author’s Note:

1. Considering that Halloween falls on 31st October, anyone who had read the Jujutsu Kaisen manga would be screaming at the date (Happy 1014th day!), so technically the omake could not happen in the real timeline, but let's just pretend shall we~~?
2. If only Satoru knew how much of a brat kid!Kakashi was, you know, kinda like him. Imagine both kid! Kakashi and kid! Satoru in one room, looking down at you.
3. Marigold in Hanakotoba represents [Jealousy, Despair, Grief].
4. Dianthus in Hanakotoba represents [Boldness, Pure Love, Child's Play]
5. [Twin Lightning Shiver] is a move that Kakashi uses in the Naruto Storm games series. I recommended looking it up to see it in action because of how awesome and badass it is!
6. To those who are not familiar with Jujutsu Kaisen, Todo Aoi's cursed technique allows him to swap the orientation of anything with enough requisite cursed energy by clapping his hands.
7. Black Flash is a distortion in space that occurs when cursed energy is applied within 0.000001 seconds of a physical hit. When a sorcerer is able to achieve this, their cursed energy flashes black, and the destructive power of their strike is equal to a normal hit to the power of 2.5.Unleashing Black Flash requires incredible concentration and no jujutsu sorcerer is capable of using doing so at will, not even Satoru. Considering a normal human punching force is around 120-150psi, and since Yuuji is said to be much much physically gifted than even most of the sorcerers, assuming his punching force is 1050 psi, the same swiping force of a tiger, then his Black Flash would hit around 1157625000psi. (Maybe, I suck at calculation)
8. Inari Ōkami (稲荷大神), also called Ō-Inari (大稲荷), is the Japanese kami of foxes, fertility, rice, tea and sake, of agriculture and industry, of general prosperity and worldly success and one of the principal kami of Shinto. In earlier Japan, Inari was also the patron of swordsmiths and merchants. I just wanted to add a bit of Hatake clan lore.
9. The McFry Potato with Chocolate Sauce was an actual thing, though much much less...creative than Satoru's chocolate sauce covered croquette. It was a specialty entree item which was introduced in participating McDonald's stores in Japan in early January 2016. The dish consists of McDonald's famous salted fries, covered in white and fudge chocolate sauce.
10. Ramune is Japan's famous carbonated soft drink which is commonly enjoyed (and sometimes only available in) summer, popular among kids and adults.
11. Kakashi's Halloween outfit that he was wearing in the omake was an actual official illustration. Huehuhehuheuhuehue---

--

Kakashi, having literal zero social skills: I shall now proceed to churn out a dialogue I remember from my years of reading Icha-Icha as a way of saying my appreciation.

Also, that scene at the beginning with Shoko and Kakashi takes place before Gojo came back from the mission at the end of chapter 1. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Halcyon Days (Before It Goes Down In Flames)

Perhaps after the chaos and turmoil that was brought upon by the sudden appearance of a Special Grade right inside the school, the days afterwards, were contrastingly mundane, calmed down to an almost unreasonable degree. The students that were administered into the infirmary for medical care have long been discharged with a very unenthusiastic wave from a stone-faced Shoko, who was also holding Kakashi-san literally by the collar of his shirt without as much as any contemplation or mercy. It did not take much thought to think that the doctor was very much still, in her own dispassionate way, ticked off at the older Gojo sibling for landing himself stupid and half-immobile in her ward again. 

The last time Yuuji saw Kakashi-san, still held up by the scruff of his neck by a much smaller, and frankly, much more intimidating woman, was then, just as the strawberry-haired teenager went to fetch Megumi and Nobara from their own dismissals. Yuuji remembered something about a punishment, and wondered if the scary doctor lady still had more in store for Kakashi. He would ask, but the depth of Shoko’s eye bags made him change his mind, as well the utter limpness in the way Kakashi hung in her grip made Yuuji think that this was a fairly normal occurrence. The man, apparently used to this treatment and very much resigned to it, just bid his cheery goodbyes to the First Years – Megumi gave a mere frown in return, still looking a bit beat up, while Nobara still appeared to be shocked by the revelation that his haggard, sloth-energied man was in any way, related to her himbo of a teacher, muttering unintelligibly under her breath.

Peace returns, well, as much as peace was allowed to integrate into the daily lives of Jujutsu sorcerers anyway. With Yuuji’s miraculous return to the world of the living, after weeks of being hidden away under the wing of Gojo Satoru (more specifically, in his bunker), so was his schooling and training schedule. When none of them were sent on individual assignments, the reunited trio went to daily classes like normal teenagers would, being taught streamlined academics that had them, mostly Yuuji and Nobara, yawning and flicking paper balls at each other during the hours. Sometimes, Gojo-sensei would sweep in from out of nowhere – scaring the crap out of whichever academic teacher happened to be teaching at the time – bringing them sweets and souvenirs from his missions with loud, colourful expositions that steamroll over the actual lessons that their poor actual academic instructor still try to deliver, before promptly giving up amidst the laughter and jokes shared between them (bar Megumi, who still diligently scribbles in his notebook).

During that moment, it felt like nothing could dampen their spirits. That their world would forever be encased in this sort of joyous spirit, that tomorrow would always come no matter what.

Youths should enjoy the present, after all.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       Other than Gojo-sensei’s improtou visits, the only other meaningful, exciting activity that takes place in their otherwise placating schedule, would be their training sessions. 

And thus, the trio continued their intense training under the watchful, mirthful eye of Gojo-sensei, whenever the man was free of course, to hone their jujutsu techniques. Gojo-sensei, with his unconventional teaching methods and boundless energy, pushed them to their limits in glee, most of the time his mouth full with snacks he had gotten from his mission trips or from his brother.

Yuuji would catch a slight glimpse of Kakashi-san sometimes during the week, but they were fleeting. Truly, it was no given how he and Nobara had never met Kakashi before this, because the man always seems to flicker at the edge of your vision, like a mirage that is not quite there. Yuuji would turn to greet him, but the man would already be gone by then, the only indication that he was ever there was a very much buoyant Gojo-sensei, whose busily munching on something before he continues to train his students with torture disguised as training regiments. 

Honestly, Yuuji feels kinda sad, but he figured that just like every other high grade sorcerer, Kakashi-san was being swamped by work again. Even Yuuji, with his new rank, had been sent on solo missions every now and again, ones that were thankfully not disguised as hidden assassination attempts.

And there was still that matter with Sukuna that he wanted to talk about…

The King of Curses has been quiet for the past week however, ever since that event. Not even a peep out of him when Yuuji was trying to sleep (usually Sukuna likes to recite a whole list he’d like to do once he gets free, none of them good. At the top of the list, Sukuna vowed to erase the blasted 90GB worth of Jennifer Lawrence that permanently occupied the teenager’s brain, which was absolutely unforgivable). It ebbed Yuuji’s concern a bit; hopefully it was just all bark on Sukuna’s part, that time.

Although, the absolute elation that laced that soliloquy…

…

On occasions, when they were not busy, the Second Years would also join in with them during training. It gave Yuuji a better chance to get to know his seniors better. In fact, he was getting better at deciphering Inumaki-senpai’s sprout of onigiri ingredients. Panda-senpai was still evidently a panda (Yuuji gave up finding out an explanation for him). Those two were friendly with the strawberry-haired teenager, not at all adverse to Yuuji’s title as Sukuna’s Vessel, but they also had no problem immediately throwing Yuuji to the wolf that was Maki-senpai for their first spar. 

The green-haired Second Year made it clear that she had no intentions of going easy on Yuuji. The way her eyes glared at her once-dead junior bordered between appraisal and rivalry, like Yuuji was going to be a great punching bag. 

It is evident that Maki-senpai, for example, has no qualms rubbing Yuuji’s face against the dirt every now and then. But she was probably the best out of all as his training partner, pushing Yuuji into even using his natural strength and dexterity, something that she could easily match with her own. The Second Year appeared to be delighted at this prospect, relishing the challenge of testing her abilities against his. However, Yuuji couldn't help but feel like a ragdoll tossed around in a whirlwind of her energy and enthusiasm, and he often wondered if this was secretly the universe’s way of exacting revenge on Fushiguro and Kugisaki’s behalf. 

Hey, it’s not like Yuuji wanted to play dead for some months! Cut him some slack!

Still, despite his usual bound of chaotic energy, he found himself rather enjoying the slow crawl of the days passing by in oranges and blues, of dawns and dusks alternating between the hours. He went to classes, fooled around with Nobara, crashed into Megumi’s room and hung out with the gloomy teen despite his protests, watched old classic western movies together, and ate instant food even when he’s not hungry.

From the growing twinkle in Nobara’s eyes however, he should have noticed that the peace would not last. 

…

It was just supposed to be another quiet day.

Yuuji was yawning, having stayed up late last night catching up on some new manga. Beside him, doing some stretches, Megumi prepared for another day of on-field training. The sun has just barely risen over the horizon, painting a lazy picture of serenity and sedateness.

Until Nobara rolled up during training time with a determined glint in her eyes. There was just something short of feral that laced the edge of her grin, a hint of teeth showing through her glossed lips. She stomped rather than walked, her steps echoing with a sense of purpose. The reverberations reached the two like echoes of a gallows, informing them of the calm before the storm. 

Now fully awake, Yuuji shared a brief look with Megumi, whose eyebrows twitched with apparition, but he said nothing initially. His face remained impassive as always. 

Itadori! Megumi telepathically said.

Roger! Yuuji replied in return, seriously.

They shifted closer, shoulder to shoulder, and quickly played a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors behind their backs.

Haha! Yuuji’s Scissors beat Megumi’s Paper!

And so, as the loser, Megumi greeted the rapidly approaching Nobara, his inscrutable voice mumbling, “...Kugisaki.”

“You two,” Nobara said, as soon as she got within earshot, her voice firm, “Own me a solid.”

Yuuji and Megumi exchanged puzzled glances as Nobara's determined demeanour hinted at something out of the ordinary. They had no idea what she meant, but the seriousness in her eyes and the ominous way she had approached them bode nothing good. 

"What do you mean?" Yuuji asked, scratching his head with a quizzical expression.

Nobara crossed her arms, huffing, “I’m still pissed off that I was like, the last one to find out about Gojo-sensei’s brother. How could you two leave me in the dust like that?!” Her hands migrated to her hips in irritation. 

“Hey! It’s not like I knew Kakashi-san for very long as well! I was literally dead!” Yuuji tried to defend himself. “If anything, you and I should be mad at Fushiguro for not telling us! He even slept in their house since he was a little urchin–!”

Megumi, very indiscreetly, stomped on Yuuji’s foot, receiving a howl for his efforts. 

Nobara seemingly glossed over her yearmate’s pain as she pondered crossly, “And Gojo-sensei! Always just keeping it all to himself. How come he blabbers so much and yet gives us so little in return? It's like he's a never-ending buffet of information, but he's put a 'Do Not Enter' sign on the best dishes! I swear he only does it because he wants to see our reactions to being left in the dark, probably thinking it’s entertaining or something.”

Yuuji pouted, rubbing his foot where Megumi had stomped on it. "You do have a point there. Gojo-sensei's like a living enigma. He'll talk your ear off about the latest celebrity gossip, but when it comes to anything serious or personal, he's  tight-lipped."

“...You just want in on the gossip, Kugisaki.” Megumi added fuel to the fire. 

“Well, duh!” The only female First Year snapped. “Gossip is very important, you know! Literally the lifeblood of the Jujutsu world. It's how we learn about all the little tidbits that help us survive in this crazy, cursed-filled world. Like who's dating who among the sorcerers, what kind of curse moves are trending, and the latest fashion in accessories. It's not just idle chatter; it's a vital source of information. And Gojo-sensei is the gatekeeper of all that juicy intel! We're missing out on so much! And–”

Megumi interrupted her, mostly because he doesn’t want to listen to a possible tangent, “You said something about a solid earlier.”

“Yeah!” Nobara grinned wolfishly, “I want to see what’s under Gojo-san’s mask.”

Well, they certainly didn’t expect that one. 

The first one to snap out from his stupor was Megumi, who crossed his arms with narrowed eyes while Yuuji could merely blink. The dark-haired teenager appears to be miffed, well, even more than usual. 

“What?” Nobara pulled a face at their reactions. “Don’t tell me you’re not at all curious about it?! Haven’t you guys wondered what's hidden behind that mask? I heard it's like, one of the biggest unsolved mysteries in the Jujutsu world! Imagine the leverage that we could have if we manage to see something that even the Higher Sorcerers can’t!"

Yuuji rubbed the back of his head. 

As much as Yuuji would like to say that he has too much respect for Kakashi-san to even think about peeking at his face, it is undeniable of his curiosity. Especially now that Nobara has brought it up, it reared its ugly head, beckoned by the siren of the mystery, like a snake charmed by a flute. He bit his lips, feeling both ashamed and frank curiosity; the more he thinks about it, the more alluring the prospect of seeing what’s under Kakashi’s mask becomes.

No, I can’t. Yuuji clutched his head, whimpering in his dilemma. I can’t betray Kakashi-san like this! 

But think about it! With glee, Yuuji's natural, chaotic teenage self goaded within him. There must be something good behind it! Why else would the Gojo always wear it all the time! Aren’t you the slightest bit curious? It’s a mystery! As a former member of the Occult Phenomenon Research club, this is clearly a case ripe for the picking! 

Kakashi-san must have a good reason for hiding his face! Yuuji argued with himself.

Precisely! Imagine if he has giant fish lips! Or buck teeth! Oh, or maybe–

Distraught and betrayed by his own growing curiosity, Yuuji squatted down on his haunches, head in hands. 

This must be Sukuna’s fault! Trying to influence Yuuji to betray Kakashi-san like this! Yeah! Yuuji wouldn’t do this otherwise! He’s innocent, he’s innocent, he’s innocent, he’s innocent—

( You goddamn brat, I have nothing to do with it! Sukuna snarled from where he was lying on his throne, consumed with boredom.

…Well, not to say he wasn’t curious himself but to be slandered like this! You’ll pay in time, Itadori Yuuji.)

Nobara knew that she was close to winning Yuuji over, so she set her sight on the Fushiguro instead. Both of them pointedly ignored the continuous mantra of I’m innocent, I’m innocent–  still coming from the strawberry-haired teenager. 

Megumi shook his head. Obviously he was not on board with the shenanigan. “Kugisaki, he has his reasons for keeping it constantly under a mask. Or else he would have shown his face publicly by now.”

“And how come you knew about Gojo-sensei’s brother before us, Mister Unpopular and Antisocial Sea Urchin?” Megumi’s eye twitched at Nobara’s nickname for him.

“...It’s because,” After wondering whether to diverge from the topic or to just tell the truth, Megumi ultimately figured that his teammates deserve to know at least. After all that they have been through together. “....They’re my guardians.”

“Whoa seriously?!” After several seconds of stunned silence, Nobara chided, with gritted teeth. She was more than peeved now. How many more secrets does Megumi keep from them? “Gojo-sensei is your legal guardian?! Either you’re lucky or just unfortunate…Ah wait! What else are you keeping from us? Next you’re going to tell us you have a sister or something.”

Megumi opened his mouth, before promptly closing it. There was something listless with the way he looked to his side, almost guilty. His two yearmates did not notice, too hung up on his relationship with the Gojo instead. 

“Then, Fushiguro, since you were with Gojo-san for so long, surely you must have seen his face then!” 

The dark-haired teenager shrunk at the sudden attention that both his teammates now have on him, deep gunmetal eyes sliding away to stare at the inside of his collar, which he tried to hike up even further to hide his face. Now he wonders if he should try to wear a turtleneck for a uniform instead, like Kakashi does sometimes. Certainly it would be useful for situations like this.

“No.” Megumi admitted stiffly, even though it was a lie. He had actually seen it precisely once . This was the easier answer. Or so he thought.

Both Yuuji, who got out of his funk, and Nobara gaped at him. 

“Seriously?” Nobara went and smacked Megumi on the arm rather unforgivingly. Then once more with more force as her voice cranked up a pitch in disbelief. Megumi winced, because while she didn’t have as much strength as Maki, Nobara wasn’t that physically weak either to not crush Megumi’s bones. “Seriously?! Fushiguro, you’re telling me that you have never seen it? Ever? ”

The shake of Megumi’s head sent both Yuuji and Nobara inching closer to the dark-haired teenager, faces so near with one another that their cheeks were borderline almost pressed together. Megumi, who distinctly sensed that he was in absolute danger, could only stilled as Nobara’s eyes sparkled mischievously. Her grin was wide, an almost exact mirror image to that of their idiotic teacher. It was a frankly terrifying comparison.

“Then aren’t you the slightest bit curious about it at all ? Ne? Ne ?” Megumi tried to shield away from her starry eyes, something that she probably thought was cute, but to Megumi, it instead looks like a menacing black hole of expectations and intentions to commit bodily harm if the Ten Shadows user should even try to think about refusing. The fact that her supposedly winsome whines bordered close to growls cemented this thought. 

“Not curious at all? Ne? Ne?” At Nobara’s side, Yuuji, who was also copying her cutesy pose, inched closer and closer. He batted his lashes, pouting his lips, obviously his sole neuron now in full turbo connection with Nobara that his initial moral stance on the matter got utterly thrown away. 

This idiot…! Whose side was he on again? 

Megumi tried to glare at his two idiotic yearmates, but he might as well have tried glaring at two dense brick walls instead. Two walls that are rapidly closing on him with twin grins, giggling his name while wrangling their fingers.

“Fu-shi-gyu-wo-kyunnnn~”

“Come oonnn, pleaweseeeeeee~?”

Trepidation dripped down at the back of Megumi’s neck, his flight instincts winning over.

Is it too much to summon Mahoraga for this…?

–

Megumi got dragged into it, ultimately.

He sighed and sighed, but neither Nobara or Yuuji paid him any attention. Megumi found himself in the midst of a discussion that was spiralling into madness. Yuuji and Nobara were fervently brainstorming, tossing out increasingly ludicrous ideas. His female teammate was holding a red crayon, scribbling worms after worms of chaotic scrawls upon the paper that she had produced out of nowhere. Yuuji nodded with each written sentence, but when Megumi peered over to read, he could understand none of it.

Well, Megumi thought, at least this way he could keep an eye on his rowdy teammates and make sure they don't get themselves into too much trouble. Yes, he was worried. Not only for Kakashi, who's due for another health visit, but also for Itadori and Kugisaki. Curiosity is understandable, but it could easily devolve into something unpredictable. 

Especially since he knew first-hand of Gojo-sensei’s tendencies . While he most certainly wouldn’t harm his students out of all people, some…unintentional destruction of public property may be involved.

“Alright!” Nobara held up the extremely used paper that held that whole plan of operation, looking as pleased as punch, “It’s not much, but it’s honest work! ‘Operation: Peek-a-Kakashi’ is underway!”

While Megumi said nothing, Yuuji gave her a rowdy applause.

Nobara's expression brightened as she regarded them, but her demeanour quickly shifted into one of deadly seriousness. “Now we need to distract…that thing , over there.”

Point case, Nobara pointed a finger over at the distance, where a white blob of a figure was wrapping itself rather tightly around Kakashi. Hazy, affectionate cries of “Nii-san~” were vaguely heard even with the substantial amount of space between them. Much like a cat, Gojo-sensei was squishing his cheek against Kakashi-san’s masked one, while the other did not even look phase at being leaned at by the taller, younger brother like a cat tower. 

In a questionable yet oddly heartwarming moment, Gojo-sensei and his brother were caught in a hug that seemed to linger just a bit too long. Their arms wrapped around each other, and they held on as if neither was willing to let go.

Megumi knew Kakashi just got back from another reconnaissance, one that took some days. Still, he couldn’t help but shake his head at the sight. The peculiar intimacy between the two enigmatic sorcerers has always been a head scratcher. 

….Yeah. Nobara has the right idea. It would be difficult to do anything with Gojo-sensei around doing…whatever it is he’s currently doing. 

“Out of all things,” Nobara commented with a hint of disrelish, “I didn’t expect Gojo-sensei to have a brother complex on top of the baggage he’s already carrying under his noggin.”

“I don’t think Gojo-sensei would appreciate what we’re trying to do…” Yuuji mumbled, a bit sheepish like it truly dawned on him. 

“I mean, yeah,” Unbothered, Nobara replied, “That’s why we need to get him out of the picture for the day. Or else forget about the operation. We wouldn’t even be able to get close to Gojo-san with Gojo-sensei prancing around.”

“How, though? Hand on his cheek, the strawberry-haired teenager was caught in brief thoughts. “As easy-going as he is, Gojo-sensei wouldn’t buy flimsy excuses from us…And I suck at lying.”

“Excuses…Unless they’re coming from someone who is usually serious and inconspicuous…”

“Probably also needs to know how Gojo-sensei will act…so someone who knows him long as well.”

“Someone who knows him long…”

On cue, Nobara and Yuuji grinned wildly at each other, before turning on their heels to clasp their hands onto Megumi’s shoulders, thus preventing him from escaping. 

“Fushiguro, we’re counting on you!” They each gave Megumi a thumbs up and a twinkling smile, seemingly oblivious to what exactly the kind of danger they were shoving the Ten Shadows user into. 

In the face of their determination and belief in him, Megumi could merely twitch.

…

“Megumin~~” Gojo-sensei sang in greeting. Rocking on his heels, he spun around to wiggle his long fingers at his student. He seems to be in a good mood, which was precisely what Megumi was hoping for as the teenager caught up with him in the hallways leading up to the school lounge.

“What brings you here? You rarely seek me out after all.”

There was the slightest bit of hesitation in the way Megumi jerks at that. Yeah, he seldom comes to his younger of the two guardians for anything. Hopefully Gojo-sensei wouldn’t be too suspicious of Megumi’s actions.

Especially when–

“...Here.” Megumi contemplated a hundred different places he would rather be right now, before handing his guardian a slip of paper. Gojo tilted his head in curiosity, before dramatically throwing his body forward, nose buried in the paper, now, he was actually able to deem it as a queueing ticket. 

And not just any queueing ticket, it was a waiting slip for one of the new limited time dessert cafes that had just opened up! Located in the bustling heart of Tokyo's Harajuku district, where fashion and trends collide, it was named "Sweet Summerscape," and it quickly became the talk of the town, making reservations almost as elusive as finding a four-leaf clover. Not even Gojo himself was able to get a reservation considering how utterly booked it was. 

And he had been dying to get a taste of the hot item menu at Sweet Summerscape, a delectable summer-themed spread that promised to satisfy all dessert lovers. There was the Tropical Fruit Parfait, Sunset Sorbet Trio and Mochi Ice Bento, but the one that caught Satoru’s attention was the proclaimed Seaside Dream Waffles: crispy, golden waffles crowned with bruleed bananas and a scoop of salted caramel gelato, then drizzled with rich dark chocolate and sprinkled with sea salt crystals. Ohhhhhh, such a sweet summer treat!

“Where did you get this?” Gojo marvelled, holding the slip up above his head against the sunlight as if it would reveal its fraudulent nature if there was any. After much checking in various odd angles, the Strongest Sorcerer was satisfied with the authenticity of the paper. 

“From Tsumiki. She gave it to me last weekend because she said she couldn’t go because of her schedule…I just thought you would enjoy it better.”

“Aww, thanks Megumin.” Gojo roughly ruffled Megumi’s hair so fast that some of the spikes stood up even more from the static. The teen’s thoughtful gesture didn't go unnoticed, and Gojo appreciated the waiting slip for such a favoured café. His excitement was palpable, and the anticipation of tasting the summer-themed treats made his mouth water. 

The genuine smile on his lips was so potent that Megumi felt ashamed because he had intended for the gesture to be a diversion. And clearly, it was working. 

“You sure you don’t want to come with me?”

“...No, it’s fine. You’re the one with a sweet tooth.”

Megumi received a chuckle for that one, and when he thought that that was the end of it–

“Ah! Since we’re both free today, I should get Nii-san to come along as well.”

“No no no.” Megumi tried his best to stop Gojo, almost grabbing him by the arm. His fingers were knocked away slightly by Infinity, not that he minded. His action did its intended job; his teacher ceased, pulling his bottom lips at Megumi in puzzlement. “Kakashi-san can’t go with you.”

“Uh?” At the mention of Kakashi, Gojo-sensei’s demeanour changed into a more grounded, vigilant stance, and Megumi knew he had to think fast or else he was going to lose his guardian to the raging tempest that is his brother complex. Gojo-sensei, once he gets in the Zone, would be impossible to handle and to listen to reason.

“I…” Megumi shifted, mind racing at a million miles per hour to find an acceptable excuse. A distant part of his brain still held enough capacity to curse at his teammates for dragging him into his mess. “...He can’t come because….”

Gojo-sensei was still staring at him from behind his blindfold, Six Eyes burning through the teenager, “....Be…cause?” He repeated slowly.

“...Because he’s too busy peeling tangerines.” 

He could feel Gojo Satoru’s incredulity, an absolute aberration of the Order of the World considering that he was usually the source of causing that in people. 

“What.” 

“Yes.” Megumi nodded seriously, feeling his ears burn at the absurd, albeit more than probable, lie. Though he was still miraculously able to keep his face straight, tongue twisting the lie into at least a believable one. “Tsumiki also just sent him a box of the fruits. Though they’re very late in season, so they have to be all peeled by today or else they’ll go bad and squishy.”

“Is that so?” Gojo made a vague motion with the purse of his lips that Megumi knew meant that he was thinking. Which was bad. He needs Gojo to stop thinking with his head and to start thinking with his stomach instead. “Then I should go help Nii-san instead–”

“That’s also part of the reason why I can't redeem that ticket today.” Megumi interjected. “I already volunteered to be Kakashi’s designated tangerine peeler for today. It’s a lot, so he needs an extra pair of hands…which is mine…And it would be a shame to squander that reservation, so you should honestly go enjoy it. ”

Megumi tried not to squirm under Gojo-sensei, gunmetal eyes just staring back at the space of the dark fabric where he knew that the powerful Six Eyes were judging him.

“Alrighty then!” After seemingly a stifling eternity, Megumi was able to breathe a sigh of solace when his teacher slash guardian turned away, brandishing his phone to peer at the time. Thankfully it was already close to the reservation frame, so Gojo would have to hurry along. “I can always bring him back something later~ See you, Megumin.”

Once he was sure that Gojo-sensei was gone from the premise, the dark-haired teenager let out an exhale, before bringing out his phone. 

Operation: Peek-a-Kakashi commenced.

After sending the message and receiving two thumbs-up reactions from his hare-brained friends, Megumi couldn't help but shake his head. He had a bad feeling about where this was heading, but he also knew that there was no turning back now. With a resigned sigh, he muttered to himself, "This is going to be a disaster."

 
“This place always gives me the creeps,” Nobara muttered. The sounds of their collective footsteps echoed in the dim, dark hallways of the infirmary building, where Megumi had reluctantly met up with them. The other two were still scribbling and squabbling, presumably over the scheme, and the dark-haired sorcerer’s eyes were almost immediately drawn to the bright object that Nobara was clutching in her hand. Since Megumi wasn’t actually listening and couldn’t read his teammate’s chicken scratch, he figured that it was integral to the first part of the plan, and to be honest, it wasn’t looking to be the convoluted hazard that Megumi thought it was going to be, and he secretly breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Can’t they at least turn on all the lights?” Nobara was still complaining.

“I don’t think people visit this place anyways, aren’t sorcerers always short-handed anyways? If anything,” Yuuji said, “I’m more amazed that this place is as big as it is. Although this is also where the morgue is…”

“Ah, you would know something about that, wouldn’t you.” The sharp retort rang in an echo.

“Hey! I already said that I was sorry!”

“Shut up, both of you,” Megumi shushed his unruly teammates when they neared Ieiri-san’s office, and promptly, they clammed up. Hushed voices, clearly a pair, were muffled behind the half-ajar door that they cannot make out the words of. However, it was apparent that one was Kakashi-san’s, and the other belonged to their local resident doctor.

The nosy teenagers snuck a peek.

Much like its owner, Ieiri Shoko’s office exudes a gloomy ambiance, bathed in the eerie light of flickering fluorescent bulbs. An orderly mess reigns in this compact space, where dusty medical textbooks shared shaky shelves with old patient files, while an ancient-looking computer lazily glowed with its screensaver. The main desk was a chaotic mosaic of papers, prescription bottles, and forgotten tools, framed by fading wallpaper and drab curtains that struggled to block out the muted daylight. A timeworn anatomy chart adorned one wall, and the patient's chair, an uncomfortable relic, stood beside a crooked-legged examination bed.

Amongst the organised messes, that equally dishevelled nest of grey hair was unmistakable. With his back to the door, Kakashi-san was sitting directly across from Shoko, or rather, slumped in the dilapidated patient seat like he’s right at home. He was groaning unintelligibly at the ceiling. Judging from the bemused twinkle in Shoko-san’s eye and her relaxed posture, it was not from a case of injury or ailment, but more likely from the mounting exasperation of dealing with the physician’s playful ribbing. The scene was set with two half-drunk mugs of coffee and a bowl brimming with discarded persimmon skins, clear evidence that they had been deeply engrossed in their activity for quite some time.

In front of the group, Yuuji nudged the door open with a creak.

When Shoko-san caught sight of the small group, her brow rose ever so slightly in her otherwise unchanging tired, deadpan expression. She greeted, with a wave of the clipboard that she was holding, “Ah, it’s the golden trio. Back for some more prodding from my scalpel?”

A disharmonised chorus of denials, vigorous shaking of the heads.

“No? I’m presuming you’re here for our class pet then?”

“We have a class pet?!” Yuuji whispered non-too-quietly and excitedly to Megumi, who looked chagrined. 

The doctor knocked her clipboard lightly against Kakashi-san with a slight laugh. “I’m going to take that as a yes. Well, we’re just about to finish here anyway. Don’t keep him for too long, kiddos, he has plans for today.”

There was another whine from the older Gojo as he got up from his seat. He lightly patted down his jacket with a certain petulant childishness that was reminiscent of Gojo-sensei’s. “ Fine then. Don’t help, you sadist. You always like to see me struggle.”

“Loud and proud of it. Like I said, it’s not everyday I get to see my juniors fumbling like a bunch of fishes on land.” Shoko said, “You’re way out of your element, yes. But honestly, I don’t think you need the help. Just be yourself, seriously.”

Kakashi-san mumbled something that sounded like, easier said than done.

“Goodluck.”

They filed out of the office like dominoes. Kakashi-san, a hunched figure of self-depreciation and an exaggerated display of melodramatic sighs, emerged last, muttering under his breath. When he focused his gaze on the misfit teenagers, however, he lightened up, “You lot are fine and healthy? Good, good, much better than me. So what do I own such as the pleasure of a visit?” 

Like clockwork, Nobara put on a show of being an innocent upfront individual, stepping forward with a neatly arranged bento box in her hands. The box was carefully wrapped in a vibrant and patterned piece of cloth. The fabric, adorned with intricate designs, hugged the box snugly. "We thought we'd repay you for all those delicious meals you've cooked for us, Gojo-san," she chirped, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Kakashi, who probably wasn’t used to Nobara’s actual devious side, regarded the offering with a flicker of curiosity and a hint of suspicion. "Repay me, you say?"

Yuuji nodded exuberantly, playing along with the plan. "Yeah! We just thought it would be a nice thing to do after what you’ve done for us! We work hard on it, so please enjoy! Preferably right now when it’s still hot and fresh!" He took the bento from Nobara and offered it to their ‘class pet’ with a respectful bow.

Considering that they would not have enough time to cook an actual bento meal, Megumi bet that she and Yuuji (well, most probably Yuuji) have probably ran to the nearest convenience store and just bought one. Then transferred the contents from its original plastic container to a bento box to give it an illusion that it was homemade. A simple plan to get Kakashi to show his face by eating the bento right in front of them.

“Although Megumi made most of it.” The last bit was added as an afterthought, which was news to Megumi, who promptly choked.

Surely, since Megumi was Kakashi-san’s beloved charge, he wouldn’t dare refuse to eat a meal made by him? Right? Hence, slipping the excuse in, surely that their plan would be foolproof.

Or so was the notion that she and Yuuji believed.

To their surprise, Kakashi looked…horrified. You couldn’t exactly tell from his 3 ⁄ 4 covered face, but the way his eyes widened fractionally gave this impression. 

“A-Ah,” Kakashi coughed, “Thank you, Megumi. I’ll…try it later.”

Nobara immediately scowled, stomping her foot. “Eh? Why not right now??”

“I-it’s not like that I don’t want to right now!” An agitated, vehement protest on the man’s part, “And it’s not that I don’t appreciate you taking the time to cook, but…”

Both Kakashi and Megumi were abashed, their faces burning with embarrassment. The other two peered at them curiously.

Kakashi continued, “...You do remember the last time I ate something that you made, don’t you?”

Megumi buried himself deeper at the nook of his collar, his whole body rigid.

Putting two and two together was an arduous task, but with their collective one brain-cell, Yuuji and Nobara slowly turned on their heels to simultaneously give Megumi blank expressions. 

“...Why didn’t you tell us that you’re a horrible cook?” 

“Why would I disclose something like that!” Nearly hollering, Megumi was clearly embarrassed and mortified at the reminder of that hazardous moment. It wasn’t his fault that the sugar and salt looked similarly identical!...Along with some other stuff.

The rare sound coming from Fushiguro out of all people snapped the other First Years into teasing grins, and they quickly hovered over Megumi like a pair of hungry hounds. Yuuji, who had only a slight knowledge of Megumi's culinary skills (he only knows that Fushiguro can’t cook rice even with a rice cooker), looked intrigued. "What happened last time? Was it that bad?"

At the prospect of getting a good embarrassing story about Megumi, Nobara leaned closer, a wicked beam spreading across her face. "Yeah, Fushiguro, spill the beans. What kind of masterpiece did you create in the kitchen?"

Luckily for the discomposed sea urchin, Kakashi stepped in to save him some face, although the man himself was chuckling at the memory. He ruffled Megumi’s hair in good-nature. “Just some serious stomach cramps, nothing too bad. Although it did take me several days to recover…” And several days of a howling Satoru hounding Shoko non-stop while plastering himself to Kakashi’s side, never leaving him. 

Megumi’s ears burn as his teammates continue to wheeze and chortle behind him. 

“I’m sure your cooking skills have improved since then,” Kakashi did appear apologetic, “but I honestly can’t afford to get sick this week. Especially since, you know, what has happened. I’m on call constantly.”

“I’ll let it slide if the next time Gojo-sensei asks you about a box of tangerines, you’ll say they went bad and that you have to throw them out.” Even entrapped in his pit of shame, Megumi latched onto the hanging rope, internally somewhat relieved that he doesn’t have to explain that fallacy to Gojo-sensei.

“...Ok…ay??” Kakashi gave him a very confused brief stare before he just agreed to the strange request. He gave them a lazy wave. “Well, if you’ll excuse me kids, I have a road of life to get lost into.”

“Well now what?” Yuuji asked, once Kakashi went away while gingerly holding the bento box that supposedly harbours Megumi’s horrid cooking. He rubbed at the sore spot that Megumi gave the both of them with a frustrated punch before going to sulk in the corner. “That was a bust.”

“What do you think, idiot.” Ignoring the other’s indignant ‘Hey!’, Nobara brought out her paper again, “We’ll go straight to Plan B, which is–”

“Inumaki-senpai!”

The Second Years, which include a group of Inumaki Toge, Maki and Panda, were warming down from another training session on the field when they were suddenly bombarded by their juniors. At the call of his name, the pale-haired teenager waved his greeting with a contemplative tilt of his head, “Konbu konbu.”

“We need a favour,” Nobara was quick to jump to her request, not wanting to waste time, “It’s about Gojo-sensei’s older brother.”

All three of the Second Years promptly froze, halting in their actions. Maki, who was in the middle of collecting the scattered cursed tools on the ground, rigidly turned her head towards Nobara with a dour frown, “If you’re planning to use Toge’s Cursed Speech to get Kakashi to lower his mask, forget about it.”

“Ehh–? How did you…know…?” Nobara, alongside Yuuji, threw an inquisitive glance at Inumaki, who stated helpfully, “Tuna mayo.” 

“Kakashi may not be on the same level as Satoru in terms of rank,” Panda reiterated at the confused look on the First Years’ faces. “But trying to use Cursed Speech even for something as simple as, ‘Pull your mask down!’ on him would cause Toge some serious injury from the side-effect.”

“Shake shake.” Inumaki gave an apologetic nod at his juniors, feeling bad at being unable to help them.

“Wait, how do you know this?” Nobara caught on with narrowed eyes. “Did you actually try to use it on Gojo-san before?”

Both Panda and Inumaki pointedly looked away. Maki gave out a vexed harumph! from where she was standing. “O-okaka.” The Cursed Speech user replied, clearly lying. 

Nobara held her head in her hands in annoyance, muttering incessantly under her breath. Taking a deep breath, she whipped out her piece of paper again, “Fine. It’s fine. Let’s just go to plan C, instead. I scribbled down ‘training’ but I’m not too sure if this will work–”

At the mention of training, Maki’s head immediately whipped towards them, her glasses catching light. 

Yuuji scratched his cheek in thought, before nodding, “Actually, if we accidentally, you know, tear Kakashi-san’s mask off during training, then it wouldn’t be too far off, right?” He glanced at Megumi, who gave an agreeable nod. 

“I’ll help,” Maki immediately offered, looking far too happy about it. She went to her pile of weapons, sorting through them in excitement. Nobara looked at her with stars in her eyes, before going over to help her one reliable senior, chatting vicariously away.

“Eh, I’m going to stay out of this one.” Panda shook his head. “It’ll be like stripping a panda of its fur, and that’ll be hypocritical of me. So have fun, and try not to let Satoru catch you or he wouldn’t be too happy.” His ears twitched as he lumbered off, Toge following in tow, who said, “Mentaiko,” which stood for "I have a mission, so have fun”.

“You kids sure are dragging me today, aren’t you?” Kakashi stood at one end, his silver hair reflecting the golden hues of the late afternoon sun. His mask remained securely in place, its lower half hiding his face. He raised an eyebrow, curiosity in his eyes.

Nobara and Yuuji tried to act natural, their nervousness evident only to each other. Maki gave them a stern look, her unspoken message clear: Stick to the plan. Megumi, seeing this, stood in front of his teammates, trying to use his height to cover their trepidation, his own face impassive. 

Kakashi's gaze shifted between them, trying to make sense of what was happening. "Why are we all here? Training? I don't recall scheduling anything extra."

Nobara was quick to jump in with a grin. "Well, we thought it would be a great opportunity for a little sparring session! You know, to blow off some steam."

Yuuji chimed in, "Yeah, and me and Kugisaki have never sparred against you before! We can learn a lot from your experience."

Kakashi's eyes quirked in amusement, but he didn't seem convinced. "I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I would have appreciated a heads-up first. Especially today…May I take a raincheck or something?”

He was met with two sets of puppy-dog-eyes, and two sets of blank glares. He sweatdropped, before giving in with a shake of his head. “Ah well, I guess since we’re already here, might as well.”

An internal cheer of Yes! as the first hurdle of their current plan has passed. 

“Ah, it’s you two’s first time sparring with me, yeah?” Kakashi’s eyes curled into little smiles as he regarded Yuuji and Nobara. “So usually, it’s hand-to-hand combat, and you have one chance to use your cursed technique, only once for the whole duration. It’s a great chance to hone your combat skills while keeping your cards hidden for as long as you can as you scout your enemy out.”

Having already been told of that rule earlier during their discussion as they planned away, the two of them nodded, feigning ignorance.

Maki interjected accordingly, “Kakashi, this is a team battle, although it would be one versus four. It’ll be your handicap, but this would be a great chance for them to learn how to fight together, especially with the whole Yuuji situation before. They need to get used to each other’s fighting style.”

Kakashi's eyes showed his approval as he agreed, saying, "Very well. I accept."

The sparring arena was bathed in the golden light of the late afternoon sun, casting long shadows across the training grounds. Each of them got into their fighting stance, with Maki holding out her chosen weapon, her polearm, and Nobara her hammer and nails. In contrast, Kakashi didn’t move an inch from his position, still relaxed and unguarded. 

“Then, let’s begin!”

Immediately, with a burst of great strength and momentum, Yuuji dashed toward Kakashi, his movements swift and precise. He threw a powerful punch, aiming to test the waters. Kakashi easily sidestepped the attack, his movements fluid and graceful. Undeterred, Yuuji continued his assault, throwing a series of punches and kicks, each one expertly dodged by Kakashi. The older sorcerer seemed to be reading Yuuji's movements with ease, predicting his attacks.

Still, the air itself seemed to bend around the teenager’s strikes, a testament to the strength hidden in those fists. Kakashi would need to take care not to get hit by Sukuna’s vessel.

Kakashi's movements became increasingly agile and precise as he met Yuuji's onslaught head-on. His evasive manoeuvres and counters were executed with flawless grace. Although Yuuji's brute strength was formidable, Kakashi's finesse and experience allowed him to keep up with the relentless barrage of attacks.

However, Yuuji's tenacity was unwavering. He pushed harder, forcing Kakashi to remain on the defensive. 

Then Megumi joined in, having seen a probable gap in Kakashi’s defences as he was dodging Yuuji’s assaults. He aimed at the man’s left shoulder, as the other was in the middle of motion. He almost grazed it, but at the last moment, Kakashi caught his fist, stopping him immediately. With a fluid motion, he shifted his grip to Megumi's wrist and executed a masterful throw, sending the teenager sailing through the air. Megumi braced for impact, but his trajectory was altered as he collided with Yuuji.

The two of them tumbled to the ground with collective grunts. 

"Good effort, both of you," Kakashi said, a sense of camaraderie in his words. "Always be prepared for the unexpected."

Kakashi's senses were always on high alert, and the sudden flash of steel cutting through the air immediately drew his attention. His instincts kicked in, and in a swift motion, he shifted his body to the left, feeling the rush of wind as a kunai whizzed past where he had been standing just a moment ago.

The kunai embedded itself into the ground with a metallic thud, creating a small cloud of dust and dirt as it landed. Kakashi's eyes locked onto the source of the attack, scanning the area with precision.

From across the training field, several metres away, stood Maki with her polearm at the ready. “I’ve been waiting for this,” She couldn’t help but smirk then in anticipation, adeptly twirling her polearm before stopping the blade directly across Kakashi’s direction. “You sure took your sweet time, I haven’t had the opportunity to smack you into the dirt for weeks .”

“Maki,” Something shifted in Kakashi’s stance, much more alert and vigilant than the one he had taken with Yuuji. A flash of steel; Kakashi twirled a kunai in his gloved hand, his single visible eye focused on Maki. She held her polearm with both hands, her posture solid and unwavering.

"Ready, Kakashi?" Maki called out, a hint of challenge in her voice.

"Always," Kakashi replied, his voice as calm as ever.

WIthout any further words, the spar began with a blur of movement. Maki lunged forward, the weapon's blade arcing toward Kakashi, the wind whistling with the speed of the steel. The Semi-First Grade sorcerer sidestepped the attack, avoiding the deadly strike, before swiftly countering with his own. 

Maki, though not as fast, demonstrated incredible skill in her polearm technique. She parried Kakashi's attacks with fluid sweeps of her weapon, the sheer strength in her arms making every block look effortless. 

Kakashi initiated some impeccable taijutsu alongside his slashes, and he landed a series of rapid punches and kicks. But her reflexes were as sharp, and her polearm danced around, creating a protective barrier that Kakashi couldn't easily penetrate, forcing him to switch periodically from offence to defence. The butt of her polearm sent the older sorcerer back, buffed by the wind created by the strike.

As time went on, it became evident that Kakashi's speed and quick manoeuvrability couldn't give him a clear advantage over Maki's raw strength. Using quick feints and misdirection to keep Maki off balance, the older sorcerer was able to keep her unrelenting offence at bay. Feints and bluffs mixed with precise strikes kept Maki on her toes.

Maki wasn't without her own strategies. She utilised the reach of her polearm to maintain distance, forcing Kakashi to close the gap and face her brute strength head-on. Her blows carried a tremendous force, one that is felt through the weapon she wields. Like Yuuji, Maki has great physical prowess, perhaps even greater than Sukuna’s vessel. 

Every time her strikes connected with Kakashi's, the resounding impact sent shockwaves through the training ground, creating ripples in the atmosphere. The sheer force of their blows produced a symphony of sharp cracks and thunderous echoes that resonated through the sparring area.

The kunai danced in his hand, ready to retaliate.

With swift and deliberate movements, Kakashi launched a series of rapid strikes, aiming for the gaps in Maki's defence. The polearm user defended with incredible skill, parrying and deflecting each precise strike with her longer weapon. The field became a dance of steel, as the kunai and polearm clashed and parried in a mesmerising display of combat prowess. Kakashi’s natural agility and proficiency with the kunai allowed him to evade the polearm's strikes with ease, nicking Maki through the openings he’d found. 

Maki, on the other hand, used her weapon's length and reach to create a deadly zone of control, forcing the older sorcerer to constantly reposition. They struck with calculated precision, trying to force the other to concede the battle with a single well-placed blow.

“You’ve improved,” Kakashi praised with narrowed, vigilant eyes as he deflected another blow with a swipe of his kunai, “Though it would take a lot more than this to catch me off guard.”

“Oho,” Maki’s face split into a proud grin, spinning on her heel to kick against Kakashi’s crossed arms that sent him skittling back a few feet, “Did you forget that this isn’t a one-on-one? Now! Megumi!”

“!” He got so swept up with Maki that he honestly…

Kakashi looked over his shoulder to where he felt a surge of cursed energy.

“Go! Divine Dog: Totality!”

From Kakashi’s flank over a distance away, the Ten Shadows user, having recovered some time ago and was waiting for the signal, kneeled on the ground as he performed a hand seal. 

Megumi’s shadow surged forward, and from it, with a burst of cursed energy, the shikigami gained form, howling into reality that rattled the ground. The massive bi-pedal being that was indistinguishable from a werewolf charged at Kakashi with astonishing speed, instantly closing the space between them. Its sharp claws, strong enough to penetrate through the armour of the Special Grade curse, Hanami, swiped at the sorcerer, forcing him purely to rely on pure defensive manoeuvres to avoid the lightning-paced strikes that would easily slice him in half. 

Still, even Megumi’s strongest shikigami, although it might be holding back because it was still only a training session, was having trouble landing a hit. But Megumi wasn’t aiming for a direct hit; he just needed a nick, a small cut, a snip…

“Just about anything ,” Nobara’s assured voice rang in his mind, “But a good chunk of hair ought to do it. I’m counting on you to get the job done, Fushiguro.”

As expected, even with Totality Dog’s speed, Kakashi-san was faster. He vaulted over the shikigami for a chance to launch an attack from behind, but before he could do anything, both Yuuji and Maki came at him in different directions mid-air, forcing him to take to the ground, where Divine Dog Totality had already changed course to intercept him.

A pincer attack! Kakashi thought with narrowed eyes. Not bad, being able to coordinate like this. 

Kakashi found himself surrounded and under a coordinated assault. It was impressive to see his students working so well together, making use of their unique abilities and skills to create this pincer attack. Each of them had their own role to play in the plan, and it was executed with remarkable precision. Kakashi felt proud at the fact that he was about to get his face kicked in by a bunch of teenagers and a werewolf.

As Divine Dog Totality lunged at Kakashi with another swipe at his head, he maintained his focus, rapidly analysing his options. He couldn't afford to let his guard down. The massive shikigami was swift and powerful, and its claws posed a significant threat. He gracefully danced through the barrage of strikes, using his superior agility to avoid the devastating blows while keeping an eye on the other two.

Yuuji and Maki attacked relentlessly, their teamwork impeccable. Kakashi was forced to switch between defending against Maki's polearm and dodging Yuuji's ferocious strikes. Their well-timed moves and combination attacks were making it increasingly difficult for him to counter.

But Kakashi was no pushover. His reflexes and combat experience allowed him to decide on a tactical retreat. With a sudden burst of speed, he darted backward, putting some distance between himself and the relentless attacks from the students and the summoned shikigami.

He had barely a moment to breathe before they were upon him again, flesh against flesh and steel on steel.

Megumi stayed back, but only because he had already done his intended job. 

As the combined forces of Yuuji and Maki continue to force Kakashi to retreat further back from their initial starting area, Nobara sprung from the trees, a position that she had been maintaining since the start. It was with the assumption that Kakashi would be kept so busy that her hiding spot would be safe from his attention long enough for their plan to be executed. She made a beeline for something on the ground. The movement caught Kakashi’s sharp eyes even when he was being assaulted on all fronts, but it was too late.

Nobara sported a wide, wild grin as she brought out her doll; a straw effigy doll. Bringing herself to an abrupt stop, causing a cloud of dirt and dust to billow into the air, she readied her move.

“Resonance!”

A loud clang accompanied the rupture of cursed energy as Nobara slammed, via her hammer, a weaker version for one of her signature techniques into the small snippet of silver hair that Megumi had managed to cut from the unassuming Kakashi.

She aimed to immobilise Kakashi by using the link she had acquired with the strand of hair that Megumi had managed to procure for her. And now, their plan worked. 

A nail in the coffin, or rather, the cursed straw doll, with a pulse of cursed energy, Kakashi’s limbs froze against his will as Nobara used a fragment of him to figuratively pin him in place. He grunted, for it wasn’t exactly a painless sensation as he felt his muscles seizing. Pins of continuous cursed energy pushed through him–

As soon as the chance presented itself, both Yuuji and Maki made a mad dash at the man, who was rooted to the spot with trembling legs. Although he was muttering a silent apology in his mind, his expression was that of blazing determination, Yuuji stretched out his hand, aimed directly straight at the facemask that was covering one of the Greatest Mysteries of the whole Jujutsu world.

Megumi, Nobara and even Maki held their breath. (Divine Dog: Totality whined from where he was hulking)

That. 

Face. 

Let us see—!

Yuuji’s fingers grazed the edge of mask, close enough that the teenager could see how Kakashi-san’s eyes widened–

…before he dissipated into smoke.

What–

Yuuji tumbled to the ground, fingers clenching nothing but lingering wisps. He glanced around in confusion.

What just happened?

Yuuji turned to Maki, but the other was not paying any sort of attention to him. Not even in the slightest. She was gnashing her teeth together, a primal sort of aura exuberating from her rigid form. 

“That bastard, I knew he was doing this again.” The Second Year growled, twirling her weapon before slamming the butt into the ground with a force that could merely be said of pure anger and intimidation, “Have to get stronger, I’ll show him–”

“Shadow clone.” Megumi came out from behind Yuuji. There was a splotch of dirt on his cheek, which he was rubbing with the back of his sleeve. He dispelled Divine Dog: Totality, who did so after a disappointed chuff. “So either he’s hiding…or he’s actually somewhere else. Since Kakashi-san likes to use this trick often, if he’s here, he would have come out already.”

“What?” Yuuji was flabbergasted, while Nobara was crossly raving something incomprehensible in the background, “So the one we’ve been fighting…”

A sigh as the dark-haired teen fished out a leaf from his hair. “Yes, just a fake. Probably since the beginning.” Technically Kakashi didn’t break his own rule, he did use only one technique.

After a consolidating heartening from Maki (“Kick Kakashi’s ass later for me, if you can”), Nobara stomped over, fury in her motions, “One. Last. Try. I refuse to give up now!” 

Being disheartened, Yuuji was honestly not feeling all up to it anymore, but he didn’t want to disappoint her, or leave her alone. He casted a glance at his other yearmate, asking for his opinion. “Fushiguro?”

“Fine. I’ll help out one more time.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Megumi emitted a very long, audible exhale. Why did he have to willingly subject himself to this?

-

“That…was really close.” Somewhere else, as soon as the Shadow clone dissipated, the real Kakashi was brought down to his knees. He was panting lightly, holding a hand to his chest in a burst of green aura. “Even if that one was a Shadow Clone, it still...Your technique is really something, Nobara.”

All of them…To be able to press Kakashi like that, they will certainly go far.

-

In the late evening, Daikanyama's streets underwent a delightful transformation, blending modernity with traditional charm. The soft glow of streetlights cast a warm, inviting ambiance over the cobblestone pathways. Boutique shops and cosy cafes lined the pedestrians-only streets, their storefronts tastefully illuminated, each radiating its unique character. Trees provided pockets of shadow, offering respite from the subtle warmth of the evening. A gentle breeze carried laughter and the clinking of glasses from outdoor seating areas. Although Daikanyama, also known as Daikanyamachō, was located in the Shibuya ward, unlike the bustling and crowded areas around Shibuya Station, Daikanyama offered a quieter, more laid-back atmosphere. It was a place where one could unwind, chat leisurely with friends, and escape the chaotic hustle and bustle of the busier parts of Tokyo. The air was laced with the scents of street food and aromatic coffee, enhancing the sense of comfort and community that Daikanyama exuded in the late hours. 

It was a sort of wandering place filled with expatriates and well-dressed locals, so when Yuuji, Megumi and Nobara ended up here with the help of Ijichi (who promptly gave up Kakashi’s location as soon as they mention Gojo-sensei), they felt out of place with their school uniforms.

“If I knew we were going somewhere classy, I would have changed into something better,” Muttering under her breath, Nobara fussed with her hair a bit, taking out her pocket mirror to do the job better. Damn, if there’s a modelling scout here somewhere, she’s doomed!

Yuuji groaned, gently jerking the mirror away from her. “Forget about that! Where’s Kakashi-san? I don’t see him!”

Mind back on track, Nobara squinted her eyes amongst the roaming stream of people, and what a stroke of luck! Her sharp eyes caught the tail end of characteristic silver hair just rounding the distant corner. “There!”

With renewed haste, Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara quickened their pace, following the faint glint of Kakashi's silver hair as he navigated the bustling streets of Daikanyama. They manoeuvred through the crowds, the ambient conversations and the clinking of glasses growing louder as they approached the corner Kakashi had just turned.

As they rounded the corner, they found themselves in a slightly quieter side street adorned with smaller boutique shops and quaint cafes. The soft glow of the streetlights painted a picture of serenity. Kakashi had slowed his steps, apparently enjoying the atmosphere, and it gave them a better chance to keep up without being detected. Being closer, they could see now that there was something different about the man. He had opted from his usual baggy green windbreaker, and was wearing something grey. His hair was absent from its typical ponytail as well.

Was he on a covert mission?

The tallest of the three, Megumi was able to see Kakashi better, the pieces slowly falling in place. Before it clicked in his mind.

Ah, the timing couldn’t be worse, could it.

Nobara, in her enthusiasm, decided to add some flair to their pursuit, making it more like a spy mission than a simple follow-up. She leaned closer to Megumi and Yuuji and whispered, "Alright, stay low, stay silent. We're tailing our target. Remember, we're on a top-secret mission."

Yuuji rolled his eyes but couldn't help but grin at her antics. Megumi merely nodded, his stoic facade betraying no hint of a smile.

Kakashi was now approaching a narrow alley, his figure illuminated by the faint light at its entrance. He seemed to pause, gazing at something down the passage.

The sorcerer seemed to be heading in that direction. However, just as the First Years were about to reach the courtyard, a large group of people suddenly passed between them and their target, blocking their line of sight. 

"Damn it!" Nobara muttered, her frustration evident. They had lost sight of Kakashi in the crowd. The evening bustling atmosphere of the neighbourhood had played a trick on them.

They rushed through. Yuuji scanned the area, but there was no sign of the man. He scratched his head, looking slightly embarrassed. "Where did he go?"

“He has to be nearby.” Nobara clutched Yuuji’s shoulders from behind, trying to prop herself up to scan the area better. He hoisted her up with ease, and sticking her tongue, she swept over the crowd before she suddenly jerked back with a yelp. 

“Wait, damn, Gojo-sensei’s also here!” 

At Nobara’s hushed shout, the other two quickly took cover behind some conveniently placed potted plants. Luckily they belonged to a flower shop, and there were quite a few big enough to hide a human. Once they were sure that they were fully obscure, they dared a peek. 

Sure enough, with his back towards them, Gojo-sensei’s tall, lean frame was unmistakable, especially with his air of casual confidence that bordered on haughtiness. His vibrant white hair, an unmistakable trademark, caught the faint glow of streetlights, giving it an almost ethereal quality.

The trio ducked again when they saw their teacher jerked, head swivelling in their general direction. A couple of stilled seconds, before Gojo-sensei meandered along the pathway in a lackadaisical manner, hands in his pockets. He wasn’t too far away though, so they could still see him lingering about.

“What is he doing here?!” Nobara whispered in a fervent rush, “Fushiguro, I thought you managed to get him busy for the day!”

“It’s Gojo-sensei,” Megumi countered, which was a self-explanatory response on its own, but he added, “And it’s not like he would hang out at a cafe all day. Even he has to leave sometime .”

Yuuji caught the pot he’d just elbowed over before it reached the ground, placing it back crookedly with a wince. “But what are the chances that he came here of all places?” 

Very bad luck , albeit Megumi opted to keep this comment to himself. Or he just instinctively senses Kakashi was here, that was a more plausible theory, really. 

“We can’t give up now! We’re close! Why else would Gojo-san come here if not for eating or clothes shopping?!” Nobara bit the end of her nail in her test. “Prime opportunities to see him without that blasted mask!”

“Fushiguro–” Before Nobara could even finish addressing her other teammate, the teen was already stepping forward, his usual stoic demeanour giving way to an air of determination.

“Leave it to me,” Megumi declared, taking a deep breath and bracing himself for whatever challenge lay ahead.

Nobara and Yuuji exchanged glances, their eyes sparkling with admiration for their reliable friend. With wide grins, they both chorused,"We're counting on you!"

Megumi approached Gojo-sensei without a plan. With unwavering resolve, he marched toward his impending demise, his spirit unshaken by the spectre of death, who had obviously noticed him, and was gesturing at him with a mochi half-bitten in his mouth.

His mind was filled with a mix of emotions, and he couldn't help but let out a sigh. It was true that his teammates, Yuuji and Nobara, could be a handful. They often acted impulsively, got into trouble, and sometimes left a mess in their wake. But despite all that, he couldn't deny the bond they shared. They were his friends, his allies, and, in their own way, his extended family, along with Tsumiki, Gojo-sensei, and Kakashi-san.

Megumi knew he had a reputation for being the serious and stoic one. But deep down, he cared about his teammates more than he cared to admit. He didn't want to let them down, even for something as ridiculous as this. They have put their full trust on him.

He was their protector, their voice of reason, and he would continue to be there for them. Megumi was determined to ensure that, no matter how many challenges they faced, he wouldn't let his teammates down. They might be idiots, but they were his idiotic teammates, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Megumi has a task to fulfil, and he will do everything in his power to complete it. Whatever means necessary.

With this treasure, I summon–

(NO NO NO, NOT IN THAT WAY–)

“Megumi. Fancy seeing you here.” The dripping snark in his teacher’s voice was palpable, which made Megumi tense. The worst had come true.

Gojo Satoru, the normally buoyant and enigmatic sorcerer, was currently in a rare state of irritation. It wasn't a major mood swing, but his usual charisma was dimmed, his typically radiant smile faded into a subtle scowl. If you didn’t know him well, you would have never noticed such a miniscule sign.

The source of Satoru’s vexation? A disappointing visit to that Sweet Summerscape cafe. Satoru had high hopes, especially for the signature Seaside Dream Waffles, but it turned out to be a total letdown. He had eagerly ordered several items from the menu, imagining delectable and mouthwatering flavors.Yet, the reality didn't match his expectations, and the lacklustre flavours left him with an unsatisfied palate.

Not Kakashi’s cooking, not enough sugar to cause diabetes in half of the population.

Satoru spoke, while chewing on his favourite street mochi that he had gotten to curb his disappointment, “Are you here alone? I thought I saw a glimpse of Yuuji’s pink hair somewhere around, and Nobara’s voice was hard to miss when she was screaming something about a 75 percent discount.”

Shit. 

“I know Nii-san is here somewhere as well…I figure you came together–”

“You’re mistaken,” Megumi interjected, a dangerous game when Satoru was in such a temper. “I’m alone. There’s no one else.”

“Oh~?” Gojo-sensei’s sharp teeth glinted in the evening light as he chomped down the rest of his dessert. He knew that Megumi was lying. “So what are you doing here then~?”

Sweat dripped down at the back of the teenager’s neck. He needs to come up with something, fast.

A commotion caught Megumi’s attention, as some foreign girls nearby squealed and giggled, taking out their phones to record something. He glanced over his shoulder. 

As the late evening cast long shadows on the cobbled alley of Daikanyama, a charismatic dance group has materialised, their performances illuminated by the soft glow of nearby lampposts and the neon signs from surrounding boutiques. With an infectious beat in the background, their bodies moved gracefully, weaving a mesmerising dance narrative that both captured the attention of passersby and transported them into a world of rhythm and expression. Each fluid motion seemed to draw inspiration from the whole district itself, creating a unique fusion of urban energy and artistic finesse that left spectators entranced in the magical routine.

Megumi pointed at the group. “...I wanted to do…that.” His teacher gave a onceover at the jovial, energetic group, with their energetic dance moves, captivating the astounding number of people that they had attracted, before back at the sullen teenager standing before him. “They dance here every week, so I…regularly come here. To learn. T-to join them one day.”

Gojo-sensei stared at Megumi. Megumi stared at Gojo.

“...Dancing.” The man repeated back like a hollow echo, his dull tone, empty of his usual false cheer and earlier bite, making it apparent that even he, an icon of mayhem and chaos, did not buy Megumi’s bullshit.  “You. Dancing.”

Megumi mustered as much indignation as he could, even as he was dying inside from pure mortification. For friendship. “Yes.” His voice was calm and steady. “It has always been my dream.” 

At that, Megumi could practically see Gojo-sensei raise an eyebrow, even as they were hidden beneath his usual dark blindfold. He crossed his arms and his stance shifted into a low hunch, glossy lips ridiculously pulled to the side in a frown. 

“Dancing.” He heard Gojo-sensei breathe, still in disbelief. “ You , dancing.”

“You know, this is why I didn’t want to tell you.” Remembering to channel his memories of all the shenanigans and dramatical flairs that both his teammates were prone to, as well as Gojo-sensei’s own melodramatic theatrics, Megumi made sure the dip of his brows were low enough that, with his frowning mouth, made him looks..sad. Downtrodden. “You won’t support me. I knew it.” 

Gojo-sensei was visibly taken aback, maybe at the implication that he was something that he hates: a party-pooper. Destroyer of childhood dreams and all that. Combined with the fact that he was Megumi’s guardian, he's far from willing to destroy anything of Megumi’s…except maybe some of his bones during training. In any case, he was undoubtedly hesitant to trek into this….sensitive territory. Especially Megumi, since the boy rarely indulges in this sort of frivolity.  

If Satoru fucks this up, he would never forgive himself for unwittingly denying Megumi his youth.

“Ah, Megumi. No, I–” He coughed, before that fraudulent smile came bouncing back, albeit wobbly. “Why didn’t you tell me before? I would have…would have–”

Even Gojo Satoru has to take several seconds (which, according to his Six Eyes-ladle brain, was roughly translated to literal hours for him), to think carefully about what he was going to say next. 

“I would have gladly supported you!” Gojo finally said, loud and proud, hands on his hips. Sounding so earnest and honest for once that had Megumi looking away, partly out of embarrassment and partly out of guilt.

“But eh, I’ve never seen you dance before…Perhaps you’re willing to bust out a few moves here?”

“...Uh?” 

“What do you mean, “Uh???”” Gojo smiled wide enough to show off his gums, right now a beacon of both silent maliciousness and encouraging mentor. He dragged Megumi right into the dance group, whose members were more than friendly and encouraging to the newcomer, egging him on, “This is exactly the sort of setting for you to show off your true feathers to me! Come on, Megumin~”

Before the waiting crowd, the curious eyes observing the individual standing under the spotlight. The one in charge of the boombox, cranked up the volume in anticipation. 

In the world of sports anime, where the most unexpected talents can emerge, this would be the moment for Megumi Fushiguro to reveal his hidden and astonishing aptitude for a sport or activity he'd never explored before. The scene would unfold like a captivating narrative twist, leaving the audience in awe of Megumi's untapped potential.

Since this is not a sports anime-verse nor is it a crossover of one, now is a good time to say that Megumi did not absolutely uncover any sort of miraculous hidden talent for dancing in the spur of the moment. Far from it, really. 

Attempting to mimic the fluid, novel motions of other dancers, Megumi's efforts resulted in a comical display of exaggerated gestures and misjudged timings. His hips swayed wildly out of sync with the music, giving the impression of a malfunctioning robot attempting to imitate human dance. Shiro and Kuro, his Divine Dogs, would fare better. 

His movements lacked any semblance of coordination or rhythm. As the music filled the air, he flailed his limbs in a haphazard fashion, seemingly disconnected from the beat. His arms swung awkwardly, resembling a windmill caught in a storm, while his legs stumbled and tripped over themselves.

As the music continued to play, some onlookers couldn't help but chuckle, finding delight in the teenager’s unorthodox moves. Others exchanged bewildered glances, unable to comprehend how someone could dance so poorly in broad daylight–

Megumi purposely kept his eyes downward, partially to avoid seeing Gojo, fully wishing that the ground beneath his feet would open and swallow him up.

-

Yuuji partially swore under his breath.

He’d lost Kakashi-san’s glimmering silver hair, and now he was roaming aimlessly in a big circle around the plaza. Somewhere along their pursuit to catch Kakashi again, another surge of crowd surged through them, and by the time he noticed it, Nobara was gone as well, nowhere to be seen. He’d spent some time trying to find her to no avail.

The teenager was about to make a turn, heading for another section of the street when he heard a very familiar baritone voice. 

“Itadori-kun?”

The teenager froze, expression caught like a deer in headlights. His limbs were comically and equally stiff in response. Slowly like in a horror movie, Yuuji turned to look over his shoulder.

Nanamin looked equally startled to see him, brows raised high up and jaw slightly slacked, before he managed to school back into his usual, distinct indifference. 

“N-nanamin!” Yuuji greeted as calmly and bubbly as he could, trying to not give away his nervousness and surprise. Not good, not good, he thought to himself, feeling beads of sweat dripping down his neck. Hopefully the other would chalk it off due to summer heat. And the embarrassed flush on his face? Yup, definitely from seasonal perspiration as well.

Still stiff with chagrin, Yuuji turned on his heels to meet his maker, and it was not quite as he expected. Instead of the cream overcoat and the leopard-spotted tie attire that the older sorcerer was wearing during most of his meetings with Yuuji, Nanamin appeared to be dressed much more casually. Even his weird goggles-like glasses were missing. Instead, the man was donning a cream-coloured sweatshirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The first few buttons were undone, probably due to the sweltering heat. It felt weird, like seeing your teacher outside a school.

Despite Nanamin’s initial surprise, the man approached Yuuji, his expression mellowing from his usual stern grace into only a slight turn of his brows, and it took Yuuji a few seconds to decipher it as worry. And his guess was right on the spot when the other began with, “Are you on a mission? Alone, at that?” His jaw clenched at that possibility. 

Yuuji quickly shook his head, and eww, he felt that his sweats were also flung away from the hectic movements. He stopped. “N-no, I was just…you know! In the neighbourhood! Yeah, I’m not up to anything bad!”

Very smooth, Itadori.

Nanami narrowed his eyes, catching Yuuji’s nervousness. It made the stern man look even sterner, and Yuuji tried very, very hard, not to swallow instinctually under that inquisitive gaze.

Nanami's gaze bore into Yuuji, searching for any signs of deception or ulterior motives. He had a knack for reading people, and he could sense that Yuuji was hiding something. The younger sorcerer squirmed under his scrutiny, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down his temple.

After a tense moment of silence, Nanami sighed and ran a hand through his neatly combed hair. "Itadori-kun, you're a terrible liar," he said bluntly, his voice tinged with a mix of exasperation and concern. "If you're not on a mission, then what brings you here?"

Yuuji's shoulders slumped in defeat, realising that he couldn't keep up the admittedly-pathetic charade any longer. He looked down at the ground, scuffing his shoe against the pavement. "I was... looking for someone," he admitted reluctantly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Nanami's expression softened slightly, his eyes betraying a hint of curiosity. "Someone? Who are you looking for?"

Yuuji hesitated for a moment, debating whether to reveal the truth. But he knew he could trust Nanami, that the older sorcerer had his best interests at heart. Taking a deep breath, he looked up and met Nanami's gaze. "I was looking for Kakashi-san. I lost sight of him, and I've been trying to find him again."

“Oh?” The sound that Nanami let out has a hint of astonishment. “Is there something you need? I know Gojo-shi is hard to get a hold of. I could pass along your message to him when I–”

“Nonononono–” Yuuji interrupted in a panic, much too quickly and much too flabbergasted. Nanami was looking at him with that mix of patient exasperation again. “I mean,” Yuuji whimpered, voice high and creaky. “T-There’s no need for you to do that, Nanamin.”

Another very long glance, one that Yuuji avoided by pretending to admire the sky. Hey, that cloud very much look like Gojo-sensei’s hair–

Nanami glanced down at his watch, before sighing. “Well, while I, frankly, have plans of my own, leaving you wandering around alone like this does not suit me right. At least…until I know that you are indeed, not up to anything bad.”

Yuuji refused to let the shame flush deeper. 

“What are you doing here?” Yuuji couldn’t help but ask, cocking his head. From what he knew of Nanami, the man had always seemed to be of the serious character, while strict about their working hours. Not that Yuuji was judging or anything, while he was indeed a blockhead, he knew of the bad working practices in the Japanese workplace. If anything, he admires Nanami for being so open and honest about such an environment.

Hence why he was so curious about the reason Nanami was here in Daikanyama, especially from the way he was dressed, obviously he was here for other reasons, one that he couldn’t help but prod about, because damn, his nagging curiosity and all that. Plus, Nanami looks… oddly casual. Relaxed. Which fed more into his curiosity. 

The way Nanamin glanced to the side was…somewhat bashful. A slight cough as Nanami covered his mouth with a fist, cheeks slightly tinged. “Ah…actually I am here because I was on my way to meet with an…associate.”

Now Yuuji knew that he was far from smart, but still, when the hamster wheel that he had for a brain finally ran on full throttle, all of his neurons simulated, he was genuinely quite proud of himself.

“You mean a date?” Yuuji couldn’t help but say, and he knew that he, once again, hit the nail right on the head when the man abruptly spluttered. “Ohhhhhh, Nanamin is on a date~~” Yuuji brightened up, a wide grin now adorning his face. “Congratulations, Nanamin! I never knew you had it in you!”

“I-It’s not a date, Itadori-kun.” Nanami tried to say between Yuuji’s singing, but fell flat at the teenager’s bright, cheery grin. He opted for a sigh instead. “And I can assure you that this is just a casual meeting betwe– You’re not listening, are you.”

Nanami couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and amusement at Yuuji's teasing. He had always been private about his personal life, and the thought of discussing his romantic endeavours, or lack thereof, made him uneasy. Especially since Yuuji was a student of…that thing . But Yuuji's genuine excitement was infectious, and it was hard not to get caught up in his enthusiasm.

"It's really not what you think, Itadori-kun," Nanami reiterated, a hint of red still lingering on his cheeks. "I'm just... meeting someone for a casual book meet-up. It's not more than that. Really."

Yuuji's grin didn't waver, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, come on, Nanamin! You can't fool me…It's definitely a date!"

Nanami let out an exasperated sigh, but there was a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips, a hint of sheepishness brushed against his cheeks. 

Yuuji chuckled, elation and calmness bubbling in his chest at the sight of Nanami's rare smile. "Well, I hope you have a great time, Nanamin. You deserve it."

Nanami's expression softened, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you, Itadori-kun. I appreciate your support." 

“Now, about Gojo-shi…”

Damn. Yuuji had hoped that Nanami had forgotten about that. 

The 7:3 sorcerer contemplated for a moment, before he set off in a particular direction at an even pace, beckoning the teenager to follow him. Yuuji did, after spending a second debating with himself whether it would be wise to run away, before just giving in to his fate. 

Nanami led the way with purpose, his sharp gaze scanning the faces of the people they passed. He didn't seem particularly bothered by the high-end boutiques and upscale ambiance of the area. For a man as stoic as Nanami, he navigated the trendy streets with ease, while Yuuji couldn’t help but gawk at every stores they have passed – a variety of shops, from chic clothing stores to quaint bookshops, the sort of environment that the teenager was not really familiar with.

Drawing the teenager’s attention, Nanami made a sort of chuffing noise, staring ahead. They have stopped momentarily, leading the other to peek from behind the man. 

Yuuji spotted a familiar figure from a distance. Kakashi-san’s distinct hair was obvious through the crowd, which makes Yuuji wonder how exactly they had managed to lose the man in the first place. The usually haggard man, dressed casually for once, was talking to an elderly woman, old enough to be someone’s grandmother, who was struggling with her groceries. He was holding most of her bags for her, as they stood in front of a residence.

Yuuji and Nanami both approached, with the former observing Kakashi carrying the woman's bags with ease, offering a friendly conversation. The elderly woman's face lit up as she shared a few stories with Kakashi, and he listened attentively. His eyes, usually aloof and reserved, were warm and welcoming in this serendipitous encounter. She rummaged her purse for something, and pulled out a small candy, pressing it into Kakashi-san’s palm.

As the woman walked away with a grateful smile and a wave, Nanami cleared his throat, drawing Kakashi's attention.

“Gojo-shi.” Nanami called out, voice resigned, yet still placating a certain kind of fondness. “Helping the elderly again?” 

Kakashi turned to fully meet him, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. He pocketed the small gift that was just given to him. For a change, his silver hair flowed freely and unobstructed, cascading over his shoulders and framing his face. A few unruly strands occasionally fell over his eye. With the normal button-down grey shirt and his dark jeans that were a touch snug, accentuating his lean figure, matching his polished boots, Kakashi-san looked more relaxed and youthful, like he’s not a Semi-First Grade sorcerer. 

The man was about to say something, before his eyes landed on the teenager standing beside his colleague.

“Kento…and Yuuji-kun?”

Yuuji’s smile stuttered and froze. What are the odds that Nanami’s ‘associate’ was–

Kakashi-san was addressing Nanami over the rushing of blood in Yuuji’s ears. “Sorry I’m late, I was caught up with some improtou training from the kids, and then I got caught up helping a lovely old grandmother with her bags…”

“...Again?” After several seconds of silence, almost as if he was temporarily tongue-tied, Nanami sounded more amused than his usual stoic exasperation, his tone unusually hushed.

“…which is why I’m surprised to see you here, Yuuji-kun.” Yuuji started sweating bullets when Kakashi casted a onceover to him, penetrating deep greys bearing holes into his skull even when the man was perfectly amiable. “Not that it isn’t nice to see you for the third time in a day.”

Yuuji forced out a laugh as he rubbed the back of his head, “I-I immediately went here because I…” Quick Itadori, think, think! “I wanted to buy the newest copy of Shonen Jump!”

Nanami raised an eyebrow at that, “I thought that you said–”

“T-that too, of course!” Yuuji declared, putting on the thickest face he could. His mouth was beginning to ache from the constant wide grin that he had to sport for the past hour, wobbling even more when two pairs of flat gazes landed on him with extreme scrutiny.

Without saying a single word, the Semi-First grade and the First Grade sorcerer’s eyes met briefly, conveying their thoughts.

“Oh!” Yuuji knew that he was in continuous hot water when Kakashi-san’s partial face brightened considerably, brows raised high. He clapped his hands together with a certain amount of enthusiasm. “What a coincidence! We’re heading to the bookstore as well! Might as well tag along with us, Yuuji-kun~ Don’t you think so too, Kento?”

Without even waiting for a response from the other man, Kakashi-san clasped Yuuji’s arm in his own, before dragging him away with a hum. 

In a last ditch effort, Yuuji threw a pleading look at the other sorcerer, who merely settled, crossing his arms with a dip of his chin. Nanami tried for a placid stoic expression, but the way he strolled after them with a sense of leisure implicated his assent.

“I suppose it’s alright. Since you’re not up to no good, surely you could spare some time with us?”

Why does Yuuji feel like he was being herded by two skilled sheep dogs? 

-

To see Kakashi-san acting like a giddy highschool girl was certainly…something.

The bookstore that the older sorcerers had dragged him to, apparently, has a book signing event going on. The main interior was transformed into a romantic haven, with soft pastel hues and delicate decorations that evoked the essence of the beloved romance series. Fairy lights adorned the space, casting a warm, ethereal glow, while larger-than-life posters of the book covers adorned the walls, showcasing the star-crossed lovers. An enchanting archway, entwined with roses and ivy, led to the author's table, where the heart of the event unfolded. The air was fragrant with a sweet, floral scent, and soft, melodic tunes played in the background, creating a serene ambiance. Couples and fans of the series formed a line, clutching well-loved copies of the books, their faces filled with anticipation and adoration for the author. It was as if the enchanting world of the books had sprung to life, where love reigned supreme. 

As soon as they stepped foot into the premises, Kakashi-san made a beeline for the waiting queue with a gleeful giggle, leaving him and Nanami to stand awkwardly at the entrance.

“This might take a while,” He informed Yuuji with a sort of contained amusement, folding his arms, “Feel free to roam around while we wait. There’s a cafe on the second floor if you’re peckish. I’ll be nearby to oversee Gojo-shi.”

Yuuji’s eyes flickered to where Kakashi was eagerly standing in line, the tallest individual amongst the others (the majority being women), looking very out of place yet right at home at the same time.

The man’s fingers clutched a dog-eared copy of the latest book in the series, its pages filled with love, passion, and adventure. Probably since it was way later in the day, the queue wasn’t that, so he was already almost near the signing table. So, probably, it wouldn’t take as long as Nanami suggested. 

Except when he did finally approach the author, his demeanour gave way to genuine enthusiasm. Immediately, he couldn't help but start gushing about the well-crafted characters, the intricate plot twists, and the way the author wove romance into every page. Kakashi's eyes sparkled as he spoke, his admiration for the author and the series he cherished so clearly written across his covered face.

Nanami stood beside him, not particularly interested in the books themselves but thoroughly invested in Kakashi's excitement. The author’s eyes flickered between them, a spark of inspiration taking root. 

For his part, Yuuji had to buy another volume of Shonen Jump he had already owned, and so, he exhaled a heaving sigh as he forked over the needed money to the cashier.

–

As the sun began to cast long shadows over Daikanyama, Yuuji found himself standing before a quaint, little flower shop, flanked by two highly-capable sorcerers. The exterior is adorned with window boxes overflowing with vibrant blooms in shades of pink, purple, and yellow. The sign above the door reads "Hanakotoba Crowns", written in a whimsical font. From the various-sized scattered pots outside, it clicked onto Yuuji that this was actually the same store that he, Megumi and Nobara had used to hide from Gojo-sensei earlier. 

“What are we doing here?” Yuuji asked.

“Just meeting an old friend.”

A soft chime rang out as the door swung open, announcing their arrival. Inside was a delightful blend of colours and fragrances, with vibrant blooms of various shapes and sizes adorning the shelves and counters. The shop was cosy, exuding a welcoming atmosphere that made anyone who stepped inside feel immediately at ease.

“Welcome!” A cheerful voice rang out from behind a lush collection of hanging flower pots, and the three of them walked further into the store, careful not to damage any of the carefully arranged blossoms.

Yuuji saw a tall person with dark hair and a jubilant smile working on a fresh pot of dirt at the counter. As this person glanced up and saw the newcomers, their eyes widened in recognition and delight. 

It was like looking into a mirror, Yuuji thought, standing still in a daze. As a loud, boisterous laugh boomed, echoing in the space, Kento and Kakashi found themselves being caught in a bear hug, literally being lifted from their feet.

Haibara Yuu clasped both of his former teammates in his arms, that bright cheerful smile never faltering as he cheered, “You two! Long time no see! Didn’t know that this was going to be a reunion, haha!” 

Kakashi patted Haibara on the back while a tiny wisp of a smile curled on Nanami’s lips. “It’s good to see you as well, Yuu.”

“While technically, you’ve just seen me two weeks ago.” Kakashi said as he was let go. “Doesn’t exactly warrant me a ribs-crushing hug.”

“It’s been a long while since the three of us got together like this though! Makes me giddy just thinking about it!”

“It’s happening right now though…”

As the conversation flowed between the three, Yuuji couldn't help but admire the camaraderie and warmth that now filled the shop. It was a rare sight to see Nanami so animated and open, and Yuuji realised that there was more to the stoic man than met the eye.

At Yuuji’s amazed look, Nanami coughed.

“Itadori-kun, this is my old classmate at Jujutsu Tech.” The man introduced, looking both exasperated, yet fond at the same time as he waved a hand over the dark-haired man. “Well, me and Gojo-shi’s.”

“Oya oya?” Haibara turned to the teenager, almost blinding Yuuji with the sheer brightness of his smile, “Who’s this?! Kentoooo, you didn’t tell me that I was already an uncle! How could you keep me in the dark for so long, look at him–”

“It’s not like that.” Nanami, much to Yuuji’s own shock, scowled deeply, as he moved to smack the side of Haibara’s head with a practised thud. There was something remotely charming in the gesture, like an old pair of friends goofing around. To think that even someone like Nanami could be childish sometimes.

The dark-haired man proceeded to give Yuuji a big thumbs up, undeterred by the smack, “Well, it’s nice to meet cha! Call me Uncle Yuu! And this here is my humble little flower shop, my pride and joy. If you ever need anything floral-related, then I’m your man. Speaking of which!” He clapped his palms once. “I’m guessing you’re here for your usual order?”

Kakashi’s eyes crinkled in lieu of a smile. “Well, I’m feeling adventurous today, so I’ll have a look around first.”

“Okie-dokie!”

Haibara led Kakashi to a well-furnished shelf, showing off his newest arrangements and creations. The vivid displays of flowers and plants were strikingly heavenly, the scents of blooming blossoms and fresh foliage filled the air, creating an inviting ambiance.

“Yuuji-kun, got anything to pick?”

“Ah no, I couldn’t possibly intrude–”

“Oh no, I insist.” Kakashi said, reassurance in his motion and tone as he reached out to give Yuuji’s hair a ruffle. “Remember the talk we had the other day? That it’s okay to let out and grieve. If we let it fester for too long inside…it will only lead us to ruin. And I, certainly, know this feeling all too well from my own mistakes.”

Something in Yuuji’s throat caught a well of emotions that congregated in his windpipe. He inhaled a bit too deeply, feeling sure that he could have accidentally swallowed a bunch of flowers with the way it was constricted. “...You…Even you have…?” People that he couldn’t keep his promise to?

“...Of course.” With the way Kakashi-san’s head was positioned, Yuuji could not quite see his expression, just the back of his head as it nodded in tandem with his smooth tone. Still, Yuuji could sense his meagre words were laced with yawning heaviness despite the other’s jovial attitude, perpetuated by the deep slouch of his shoulders and the heavy air between them. “There’s a lot of things that I regret as well. Too many. The least I could do is offer them my deepest, sincere gratitude…and apologies.”

There appears to be an untold story hidden behind those heavy, guarded greys. If Kakashi wanted to elaborate, he would, but it was apparent that his mind was elsewhere, trapped in silent memories. 

Yuuji shared a quick glance with Nanamin, who had his lips pursed in a straight line, jaw clenched tight. He shook his head at Yuuji, probably saying to not question it any further.

“Which ones do you like the most?” Yuuji asked, loud and bright, mostly to catch Kakashi’s wavering distraction. 

“Hmm?” Kakashi’s eyes blinked, before curling into a smile. He turned to look at a particular batch placed on a lower shelf, a stalk of healthy, yellow Sunflowers, big and wide and bright, despite all of its other competitors. Yuuji followed his mellow gaze, drawn to a beautiful batch. The golden petals are a burst of sunshine, standing out against the deep green leaves and the dark brown centre of the flower.

The stalk was tall and proud, standing confidently in the vase, with each flower head facing upwards as if basking in the warmth of the sun. The size of the sunflowers is impressive, each bloom measuring around six inches in diameter.

“I do have a fondness for sunflowers.” He smiled, and it was an honestly radiant smile. His mask crinkled immensely, and it wasn’t hard to imagine the hidden wide grin beneath the fabric, not with how gleaming and illustrious those specks of stardust in his eyes were. They were full of warmth and affection, as bright as the petals of the very flowers that he was thumbing. “They’re very special to me. Satoru gave them to me…his very first gift.”

Yuuji cocked his head. “Gojo-sensei did?”

“Hmm, Satoru was a sweet kid, you know? Loud-mouthed as well, though that didn’t really change…But as brass as he is, even now, he’s unexpectedly sentimental about things. Imagine my surprise when one day he decided to give a stalk. He could barely carry it…much less hide it behind his back, with the way it was practically looming over him.” Kakashi laughed reminiscently, an unmistakable tenderness in his voice as he continued, “It was so adorable, he was so huffy and puffy about it. But genuinely, it was a special moment for me. Satoru is special to me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

It was always amazing to hear someone referring to Gojo-sensei in such high regards, but Kakashi-san, despite how sometimes close-guarded he was, never fails to mention his brother in such a brilliant light. Yuuji couldn't help but smile at the touching tale, imagining a mini Gojo-sensei doing such a heartfelt thing. 

“Daffodils too.” Kakashi-san added after a momentary pause, and his eyes were practically sparkling with a sense of playfulness. “Very special, especially after a certain someone gave them to me with a scowl.”

Nanami coughed into his fist. For some reason, the tips of his ears were blaring crimson. “Gojo-shi.”

“What~ It’s the truth.” Kakashi shared a wink with Yuuji, who snickered at how discomposed the blonde was. Truly such a complete 180 compared to his usual stoic self. “And you’d picked out such a lovely bunch as well to go with that charm of yours. You were so cute when you were younger, although you did have such a witty tongue…and quite the glare.”

Haibara was wheezing behind the counter, grasping at his sides. Yuuji strategically filed this information away in his mind for potential blackmail.

Nanami, for his part, refused to let embarrassment wash over his momentum. He cleared his throat, smoothing his cufflets with a controlled motion. “Pardon me and my charm then, but feel free to pick out any flowers you want, Gojo-shi…It’s my treat.”

Thunderous greys glimmered illustriously like the coming of a storm, and he chuckled softly. "You don't have to do that, Kento, I was merely joking–"

Nanami's response was as resolute as ever. "Consider it as a token of my appreciation to you…not just for today. But for everything as well. It’s the least I can do. And…I want to do it."

There was an underlying pressure in the atmosphere all of a sudden. Kakashi stood there, momentarily rendered speechless by the man’s earnestness. He could not help but feel a rush of emotions he hadn't anticipated. Their…friendship had been a persistent presence in his life, yet he hadn't realised how much it meant to him until now.

Kakashi finally found his voice, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "Thank you, Kento. I appreciate it more than I can express. Yuuji-kun, which bunches caught your fancy of these?” Kakashi inquired, his eyes crinkling as he gestured to the various bouquets.

As he and Yuuji looked over the numerous pots of reds, yellows, blues, violets and all sorts between, Haibara inched closer to Nanami, sprouting a wide, teasing grin and wiggling his eyebrows.

“Soooo–”

“No.”

“But Kento!” Yuu gasped, affronted, before he erupted into a short bark of laughter. He pulled Nanami closer into a half-embrace, still chortling, and despite what Yuuji thought, the solemn man did not push the dark-haired florist away, only giving out a rough exhale. 

After some time, Yuuji finally decided on a bouquet, and Haibara came over to wrap it up for him. Kakashi still wasn’t done with his choices, still watching over the plentiful, beautiful blossoms with that reminiscent wistfulness of his, so Yuuji opted to walk around the store to fill in the time as well as to see more of the displayed assortments. 

“Do you visit this store often, Nanamin?” The teen looked up from where he was admiring a bunch of flowers situated near the window. The streaming light casted a beautiful hue upon the vibrant petals, easily drawing attention to the wonders of nature.

“Me? Not always,” Nanami glanced at the counter, where despite his two former classmates were chatting away all smiles and sparkling laughter, and, while it was genuine, Nanami knew that it was also a front. Haibara never quite quit the Jujutsu world, and after he had graduated, he’d decline to be a full-time sorcerer. 

Nanami still remembers Haibara’s words as he dropped out from his 3rd year at Jujutsu Tech: I may not be as strong as you guys, but I can still help out in other ways.

To the casual observer, the store may appear to be just another charming shop, filled with rows of colourful blooms, each with its own unique language and meaning. The florist, a seemingly ordinary, bright and cheerful man named Haibara Yuu, who had a genuine passion for flowers, but his shop served a hidden purpose known only to a select few.

Those select few happened to be Jujutsu sorcerers.

They came in search of more than just flowers; they sought information and strategies in their never-ending battle against cursed spirits and cursed users. With Kakashi’s help, who has an astounding knowledge with it comes to encryption and decryption, Haibara had transformed floristry into a unique means of communication among the sorcerer community.

Through carefully chosen blooms and intricate arrangements, they passed coded messages, allowing the sorcerers to coordinate their efforts. It was in this unassuming floral shop that they exchanged vital knowledge and strategies, all while surrounded by the serene beauty of the carefully selected bouquets. However, what made this particular network of intelligence truly remarkable was its depth and reach, especially concerning events that transpired in the rural areas of Japan. Unlike the standard Jujutsu information network that focused primarily on urban and high-profile incidents, this underground system had eyes and ears in every remote corner of the countryside.

The knowledge of this network was so ingrained that it became more reliable than any official channel when it came to matters of the countryside. It extended its web to the tiniest villages, the loneliest crossroads, and the most secluded mountain shrines. Nothing happened in the rural areas without their notice.

Haibara, inspired by the mission that had almost cost him his life due to the lack of intel, became one of their most crucial foundations when it comes to intelligence gathering. 

Nanami made sure that Yuuji didn’t see or hear much of the encrypted dialogue by deliberately standing between the other’s sight of the counter. It’s not like he’s belittling Yuuji’s intelligence when it comes to these matters, it was rather for the thought of letting him enjoy such frivolous innocence a little while longer. 

Sometimes flowers are just meant to be flowers, not codes meant to be unravelled. 

As the coded conversation unfolded behind him, Nanami couldn't help but glance at Yuuji. The young sorcerer was engrossed in studying the various flower arrangements on display, seemingly oblivious to the clandestine exchange happening only a few feet away. He resembled very much like a typical curious juvenile, and a small, reassuring smile tugged at the corner of Nanami's lips. Yuuji deserved these moments of respite. And Nanami will do his best to preserve them.

“Gojo-shi always comes here though, considering his penchant for flowers.”

Yuuji beamed at him, a smile so reminiscent as the Sun, and Nanami couldn’t help but return with such joviality. He started asking the 7:3 sorcerer about the names of the flowers, delicately thumbing each petal with the latter patiently indulging him. Then, since the store’s name was Hanakotoba Crown, they started discussing the meanings of flowers.

"Nanamin," Yuuji began, a hint of sadness in his eyes, "I thought these were a fitting choice, but I didn't know the meaning behind them." He held up his delicate bouquet. 

Nanami offered a small, reassuring smile. "Lily of the Valley represents hope and the promise of a brighter future. It's a thoughtful choice, Itadori-kun, and a fine way of honouring the memory of the departed and expressing our wishes for their peace."

Yuuji appeared somewhat relieved by that revelation, which brought a sense of contentment to Nanami. He has an inkling to whom those flowers are for.

The subtle nod from Haibara caught the blonde’s peripheral attention, indicating that the exchange was complete. “---and can you bring over those flowers to the school later? Satoru would know what to do with them.” Kakashi said lastly, and Haibara flashed him a thumbs-up, which got a snort of amusement from them. 

Kakashi returned to them, his eyebrows now furrowed. His body language clearly conveyed that their day had been unexpectedly shortened. 

“Kento, I…” He said as soon as he was near enough to them. He gave Yuuji a slight glance, and after a slight pause, continued, “Haibara just gave me the lead I needed, for a trail that I thought had gone cold. I have to go.”

“Ah,” Nanami said, nothing given in his monosyllabic heave. Not even a change in his schooled expression. If anything, His demeanour changed slightly into his usual stance of professionalism. He met Kakashi’s extraordinary eyes, and in them, revealed a sense of duty and responsibility that Nanami was very familiar with. 

“Be safe, Kakashi.”

An unreadable bale settled into the pair of stormy grey irises at Nanami’s earnest well-wish. Those cool lakes, a mirror of the midnight sky betrayed none of his thoughts, and after a few seconds of a silent storm, minutely, yet tellingly, like a crack upon the ice, his lips curved into the smallest of smiles, not the enigmatic ones he often wore, but a genuine, fleeting expression of appreciation. 

Kakashi nodded at the 7:3 sorcerer, those piercing eyes framed perfectly by hallowing silvers. "Thank you," he replied, his voice carrying a sincerity that matched his smile. 

Yuuji and Nanami accompanied Kakashi to the street. The silver-haired sorcerer then turned to Yuuji, who was already leaning his head in for the usual quota of getting a head pat. He chuckled, taken aback at first, but complied. He also gave Yuuji the candy he had gotten earlier.

“I don’t like sweets all that much,” Kakashi said warmly. “Plus, Satoru needs to cut back on his sugar…” He winked. “I’ll see you two around.” 

As Kakashi turned to leave, Yuuji couldn't help but beam with joy, clutching the candy close to his chest. "Thank you, Kakashi-san! You're the best!" he exclaimed, his gratitude bubbling over. “And stay safe!”

Kakashi nodded appreciatively at them once more before making his way out of their sight, blending into the bustling streets. As he disappeared into the distance, Yuuji turned to Nanami to comment about the peculiar spiciness of the candy. 

He instead paused.

Nanami was staring hard at Kakashi’s retreating back, and maybe it was the absence of those green-tinted goggles of his, but something in his gaze was almost as smouldering as daylight itself. Shimmering beneath the honey brown hazel, was a pool of tenderness, affection and warmth. Its depth seems to transcend even beyond that for mere acquaintances. 

…There is also a certain vulnerability in his eyes, a gentle openness that reveals his emotional state. A hint of longing or yearning that startled Yuuji from his carefree waving. 

“Nanamin,” Yuuji started once Kakashi’s shaggy head had disappeared from view, because at this close range, he wasn’t blind, dumb, maybe, but certainly not that oblivious. Plus, the hours of binge watching Jennifer Lawrence acting in various romance movies. “You–”

A sigh cut him off. “Before you think of something… No, Itadori-kun, Gojo-shi is, like I said, a very close acquaintance. We are friends, former schoolmates…nothing more, nothing less.” The last bit was breathed out heavily, reeking of something akin to yearning, yet also conformity. 

“Gojo-shi,” Yuuji repeated, eyebrows raised so high in his disbelief, “Not Kakashi, like you addressed earlier?”

The slight stare that Nanami gave him made Yuuji slightly proud of himself for being able to corner the former salaryman like this, even if, yeah, the chances of him wanting to actually make Nanami mad was close to zero. He still wants to continue to live to see Jennifer Lawrence’s next acting movie, thank you very much.

…Although, for Nanami, himself, that’s–

“Does Gojo-sensei know?”

A startled chuckle erupted from Nanami, and he tried to valiantly cover it with a cough. “Gods forbid.” He rasped his admission. “He had torn men and buildings before for far less.”

Well, then. Yuuji counted his blessings that Gojo-sensei’s weird overprotective drive does not extend to him as much. Though Yuuji thought of it as odd, considering how weirdly perceptive Gojo-sensei was at times, so he would have surely noticed this? No? Even the slightest glance at Kakashi from any other person would summon Gojo-sensei from the other side of the country. 

Well, Nanamin was a very trustworthy person. Gojo-sensei probably doesn't think that the man was capable of even hurting Kakashi-san. Hell, Yuuji doesn’t think he can, or would willingly hurt anyone, much less Kakashi. 

That’s the kind of person Nanami is. And Yuuji thinks this with full confidence. Still…

“Soooo,” Yuuji deliberately slurred, expression light in contrast to his serious tone, “What is Kakashi-san to you then? Aside from just a former schoolmate.”

“..I didn’t think this would be an interrogation on my behest.” Nanami muttered under his breath. He looked at Yuuji deeply, as if trying to gauge his intention, but the teenager did not back down. 

Yuuji does not mean to be a busybody, but this…admittedly, was important to him. Although he may be an oblivious idiot, this was obvious, even to him.

He just had to know. Not for his sake, but for the sake of the two adults who had taken care of him. Who had looked after him. 

Steady and clear, Nanami's voice carried a bittersweet tone, a blend of resignation and vulnerability, as he opened up about his feelings. "Kakashi... I hold him in the highest regard, and he's incredibly dear to me. He's a selfless individual who shows no concern for his own well-being... and because of that, I find myself wishing I could offer him something more."

And what could Yuuji say to that? Other than to offer Nanami a consoling smile and a pat on the back. Ah, the ache of adulthood. 

“I still have the reservation for two.” Nanami said, after a not-quite-concealed, melancholic cast to where Kakashi had disappeared. Still, he sounded sincere when he asked the strawberry-haired teenager with a small smile. “Have you eaten yet?” 

A growl resonated from his stomach, reminding the teen that he was preoccupied that he didn’t even remember to grab lunch earlier.

When Yuuji shook his head, he continued, “Care to join me? It’ll be a waste otherwise.”

Yuuji doesn’t really want to say no to free food, but there was a stir of guilt in his stomach at having a part in derailing Nanami’s apparent plan for the day. Even if Nanami says it’s fine, it is still his day off. And it was all because he and his schoolmates wanted to sneak a peek at Kakashi’s face. There was a further nagging sensation that made him think that he’s forgetting something, but he pushed it aside in favour of addressing the man before him, “Are you sure, Nanamin?”

The corner of Nanami’s lips curled further upwards, nearly a full smile. Coming from someone who was usually stoic, it looks absolutely cordial. “Positive. Plus, we haven’t really been able to talk much since our last meeting. I’ve heard quite the stir that happened during that school event, and was interested in hearing from you. Will you share with me your side of the story over our meal?”

There was an undeniable stroke of warmth in his heart. It was a feeling of familiar companionship that the Sukuna vessel had not felt for a long while. When his grandpa was sick and had to be bedridden in the hospital, Yuuji had spent his free time after school visiting the old man at every chance he got, despite the other’s insistence that he was fine alone. The old man was stubborn with a sharp mouth, but Yuuji knew he meant well, and he was equally stubborn. Itadori Wasuke may have seemed to be a hardened man, but to Yuuji, he was the sole parental figure that had raised Yuuji by himself, selfless and caring. 

Losing Gramps was hard for him. His only family. 

“Make sure,” Wasuke has said on his deathbed, his back to his grandson, “You’re not alone. Or else you’ll end up like me.”

I’m not, Gramps.

Lucky, Yuuji thinks he was extremely lucky, feeling something prickly in his eyes. To be able to meet such kind people as Nanami, Megumi, Kugisaki, Gojo-sensei, and Kakashi-san. To meet everyone. Yuuji beamed so bright his cheeks hurt, but the pain was nothing compared to this visceral sensation of bliss.  

He hopes it will last forever. 

“Okay then!”

.

.

.

The restaurant that Nanami brought him to offer a blend of traditional and modern flavours, catering to a variety of palates. As the duo settled into their seats, Nanami let Yuuji gush over the menu, ordering what fancy him. 

The dishes began arriving at their table, each one a masterpiece of culinary art. A fragrant bowl of ramen, a platter of perfectly grilled yakitori, and an assortment of innovative sushi rolls. The rich aromas wafted through the air, making Yuuji’s mouth water in anticipation. As Nanami savoured a mouthful of his perfectly seasoned yakitori, he couldn't help but offer a pleased nod. 

"Nanamin~ You clearly know your stuff! This is so good!"

Nanami accepted the compliment with a slight, appreciative smile. "I'm glad you like it. Now, Yuuji, I didn't order this for myself," he began, reaching out to slide a bowl of fresh salad across the table towards the young sorcerer, "I ordered it for you."

Yuuji blinked down at the bowl of salad, his enthusiasm momentarily derailed.

Nanami continued, his tone gently chiding as he pushed the dish closer to the teenager. "You're a growing teenager. You need to eat a balanced, healthy diet, Itadori-kun. Not just meat."

Yuuji pouted at the salad, his appetite for meat momentarily overshadowed by the stern look Nanami was giving him. He took the hint and obediently picked up his fork, reluctantly digging into the bowl of greens. 

Nanami watched the teenager with a satisfied expression. With a soft smile, he turned his attention back to the delicious meal before them, savouring both the flavours on his plate and the warmth of their camaraderie, especially when Yuuji started recounting what had transpired during the Kyoto Sister Event. 

Somewhere along the conversation, their waiter arrived with dessert, bowing and gracefully placing the order onto the table. 

As he didn’t order any desserts, Yuuji was curious, looking over. He did a double take at the plate, or rather bowl. “Nanamin, is this just a bowl of boba balls?”

“Yes.” The man replied with a straight face.

“...Why???”

“Unfortunately, I ordered this beforehand when I made the reservation. Now please help me finish this.” 

Nanami didn’t answer Yuuji’s obvious, silent question of But why did you order it in the first place?

-

That nagging feeling that he was forgetting something never quite left him during the course of the meal. He only remembered because when he picked up the flowers he had left at Haibara’s for safe-keeping (“Feel free to come back and visit Uncle Yuu soon!” Haibara laughed, “And this includes you as well, Mister Sourpuss!” “I am not a sourpuss.”), his eyes landed on the row of pots outside.

Oh yeah, Fushiguro and Kugisaki. Damn. He was supposed to meet up with them ages ago! Fushiguro would probably understand, but Kugisaki would be more likely to rip Yuuji’s balls off in her vexation. 

He has no idea where to find his female yearmate, though since this venue has a lot of grounds to cover, he doesn’t think that he could really find Nobara even if he tries. Nothing could come between that girl and shopping. For the sake of his future children, Yuuji hopes that that indeed, was the case. He does not think that either Ieiri-san or Kakashi-san would be able to heal such…a delicate injury.

Bidding Nanami a goodbye and a wave, the man graciously returning it where he still stood at the entrance of the establishment, Yuuji darted away from the cafe in quick, deft footsteps. Carefully rearranging the bouquet wrap under his arm so the flowers won’t be squished, he glanced at a nearby wall clock. The sky was beginning to take a more orangeish tone, retelling of the hours passed since he had stepped foot. Fortunately, this was an off-peak hour, so the teenager merely had to pass through a dense crowd once or twice, people already finishing their businesses and heading off. 

As such, when the strawberry-haired First Year Yuuji saw a familiar spike of dark hair from amongst the crowd, he cheered inwardly at his stroke of luck and loudly waved him over. “Oiiiii, Fushiguro! Over hereeee!” 

Megumi slowly staggered his way to Itadori, with dazed, narrowed eyes and slumped shoulders. There was an odd air of devastation that lingered around him, as if he had lost something that he could never fully recover. 

Gojo-sensei emerged from behind Megumi, looking equally strained. Though he was smiling, it looked plastic, fake. 

He was saying, with an stilted motion of his hand, “..You know, Megumin, I could enrol you in the dan–”

“No.”

“But you need it. Badly. And you did say it was your dr–”

Megumi made quite an odd sound, with a feverish, constipated expression on his face. The teenager’s complexion was splotched, as if he was sunburnt. He looked this close to curling into a ball right there and then on the pavement. His eyes darted at Yuuji for barely a second before hurriedly staring at his feet instead. “No. Let’s not talk about…this, ever again.”

Gojo-sensei made this knowing sound, surprisingly agreeing without much fuss. 

Yuuji wondered what had happened. 

“Yuuji-kun~” The white-haired man greeted Yuuji, unsurprisingly catching the vessel’s form quickly even from far away. He exchanged a high five with Yuuji, who did the motion automatically even as he was too busy trying to catch Megumi’s gaze again (albeit he was being a bit too obvious about it by swishing-swashing his body in tandem to Megumi’s head turns of avoidance), “Fancy seeing you here! Nice flowers, by the way.”

“Oh, um. Thanks.”

Yuuji peeked at Megumi, who still looked absolutely roasted.

…

"Sixty percent off—?! Only for today?" Nobara's eyes lit up like twin stars as she raced toward another row of stores, numerous shopping bags braced along her arms. Her initial mission and any thoughts of unveiling Kakashi completely vanished in the wake of a tantalising shopping spree.

-x-

Extra: Kneading Your Heart

Nanami Kento was, and has always been, a very meticulous man. He wakes up precisely at 7:30 am every morning and starts his day with a carefully balanced breakfast of oatmeal and fruit. He follows a strict routine that includes a morning workout, a specific time for work, and an evening ritual of unwinding with a good book.

Today was an exception to that rigidity.

Days before the scheduled date, he went into overdrive, meticulously planning every detail. He had spreadsheets outlining possible conversation topics, contingency plans for various weather conditions, and even a backup restaurant in case the primary choice, an innovative hybrid restaurant seamlessly merges the rich flavours of traditional Japanese cuisine with the creativity of modern gastronomy (which Nanami deem was perfect for Kakashi’s palate for washoku and questionable liking to boba tea – “I just like the texture of the tapioca balls”, Kakashi had said once, “They’re very chewy, I can’t stop chewing on them.”), unexpectedly closed. His closet had been meticulously organised into different outfit options, each meticulously inspected and reviewed for suitability.

He dared to call Haibara to ask for his opinion, and the judgemental tone was very evident that the other was rolling his eyes at him through the phone call. 

“What are you gonna wear a three-piece suit for, Kento?! Are you gonna go on a date or a business meeting?”

“It’s neither. ” Nanami reminded, carefully sorting through his pile of formal attire, which is admittedly, made up most of his wardrobe. His time as a salaryman back then really contributed to this. Virtually just safe, boring pasty colours, nothing eye-catching. “It’s just a meet-up, Gojo-shi’s favourite author has a book signing event at the bookstore near you this weekend. I’m just accompanying him.”

“Gojo-shi?” Amusement seeped in Haibara’s tone, “Are you still with charade? Come on, Kento, you know you can be frank with me.”

Nanami adjusted his tie nervously, frowning at the pile of suits he had thrown onto the bed. "It's just a casual meet-up," he repeated, almost convincing himself. "I don't want to look too formal."

Haibara sighed audibly through the phone. "Kento, it's a date, okay? Just admit it."

Nanami scowled. "It's not a date."

"You're taking him to a book signing event, not a board meeting. It's a date."

Nanami huffed. "Fine, maybe it's a... friendly meet-up. Are you happy now?"

His best friend chuckled. "That's the spirit! Now, what are you planning to wear? Something nice, I hope, not your work attire. If you show up like usual, I’m going to throw your ass out."

"I've got a couple of dress shirts," Nanami replied, browsing through the selection. "Nothing too flashy."

Haibara released a groan that was cut short. “I was about to say I’m disappointed, but coming from you, Kento, it’s good enough. Just…anything but a three-piece suit, yeah?”

Another grunt.

“And Kento, remember,” Haibara called out with such a serious tone that Nanami halted in his clothes sorting. 

“No calling Kakashi an ‘undercooked croissant’!”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Alright, geez, mister grumpy pants, guess I’ll see you tomorrow at the store. It’s been a while since the three of us have been together, gosh, I’m so excited.”

His friend’s enthusiasm made a small smile slip on Nanami’s lips. Indeed, it has been a long while. “Yeah. See you tomorrow, Yuu.”

There was another cheery laugh, before he hung up, leaving Nanami alone with his trepidation.

The blonde took a deep breath, attempting to calm his racing thoughts. He reminded himself that overthinking could be counterproductive, and sometimes, spontaneity was more charming than rigidity.

Still, despite his thoughts, the following morning, he rose early and went through his routine with military precision. He showered, shaved, and stood in front of the mirror, dressed in casual attire that perfectly conveyed the illusion of indifference. After much contemplation, he had chosen to wear a cream button-down shirt that was neatly tucked into a pair of well-fitted dark jeans. The cuffs of the shirt were rolled up casually, revealing his forearms, and he wore a black leather belt that matched his polished shoes.

His expression was one of stoic professionalism, but his reflection gave away the subtle signs of extra care. His hair was meticulously styled, with not a strand out of place, and his clean-shaven face revealed the chiselled features he usually kept hidden beneath a mask of composure.

Though he'd never admit it, today was different. It wasn't an official date, just a casual outing with someone he cared about. He'd chosen his attire with care, wanting to look his best without appearing to try too hard. It was all part of the facade, one he was more than willing to uphold.

Nanami adjusted his cufflinks and turned away from the mirror, allowing himself a small, satisfied smile before heading out the door. He may have arrived at Daikanyama a bit earlier than the agreed time, a risky but benign game considering Kakashi’s penchant for being late. But it was for the reason of calming his nerves, as well as scouting the whole district in case something was awry. Thankfully, it was just an uneventful weekend, with considerably much more people than usual thanks to the book signing event. 

As he checked his watch for the umpteenth time, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Despite all his meticulous preparation, he was still plagued by the fear that something would go wrong. What if he made a fool of himself? (Although he had passed this threshold long ago, when he was a teen).

When he had run into Itadori Yuuji, who was acting very suspicious, he immediately knew that his plans for the day would be derailed.

…

There was a sting of disappointment.

Nanami knew the life they led, the sacrifices they made. He respected that, even if it meant their time together was limited. Still, he couldn’t deny the pangs that resonated through his being.

As Kakashi walked away, Nanami watched after him with a mixture of understanding and admiration…and forlornness. He knew that in their world, such interruptions were commonplace. But he couldn't help feeling a sense of connection with them, a shared understanding of the sacrifices they made for a cause they believed in. Even after all this time, after all that had happened over the years, Kakashi’s steps never faltered.

Duty always comes first. He couldn't let his feelings interfere with the important work they did. So, he buried his emotions deep within, waiting for a time when he could let them surface without compromising his duty as a Jujutsu Sorcerer.

He silently hoped for his safe return, and verbally said it out loud as well. Marvelling at how those beguiling orbs seemed to glisten at his words. 

He found himself questioning the veracity of his own emotions. Was it too preposterous to want to protect someone who is more than capable of taking care of himself, and having protected Nanami himself multiple times before? But even so, the innate desire to protect, to ensure Kakashi's well-being, persisted. It was a sentiment that went beyond logic and reason, something deeper and more profound that he couldn't quite explain.

He feels that now he knows the fraction of how Kakashi feels about Satoru, an irony that was not lost on him. 

…

Nanami Kento had always been a man of duty and discipline. His commitment to his responsibilities as a Jujutsu Sorcerer was unwavering, and he had dedicated his life to maintaining the balance between the cursed and non-cursed worlds. He approached every task with precision and care, and his fellow sorcerers respected him for his unwavering dedication.

But amidst the chaos of curses and battles, there was one thing Nanami couldn't quite control—his heart. He found himself pining, silently and from a distance, for someone he had grown to admire deeply. Perhaps Yu and the others have always been right. That Nanami was ruined, whipped from the start.

For a stupid, ridiculous man. For a man who had spent more time laying on the infirmary bed than in his own home. For a man who was a horrible enabler to his younger brother than anyone else. 

For a man who is much too good for a coward like him. For someone who had once ran away from the Jujutsu world, leaving his comrades behind while he slaved away behind the safety of a desk. 

Nanami has been trying to make up for it, but his mistakes stayed with him. It was the least he could do with the power he was born with. It was the least he could do to support a man who had done so much for everyone else.

Seeing the older Gojo in action, facing curses and danger with unwavering courage, not an ounce of fear in his demeanour even when his physique was at its lowest… He was a formidable ally, and his determination was something Nanami couldn't help but deeply admire. A strong sorcerer, with wits and an indomitable spirit. But it was more than his skills that had caught his attention. 

It was the kindness in his eyes, the warmth in his smile, and the way he treated everyone with respect. Coming from someone who was from the Big Three Families, the older brother of the great Gojo Satoru nonetheless, this was still an aspect of Kakashi that Nanami still cannot comprehend, but cherish even so.

When Nanami had left, he didn’t keep in touch with anyone from that world. It took time to mend the gap that had widened in Nanami’s absence, but…

It didn't take him long to pick up on the hesitancy in Kakashi's interactions with him, which had started sometime during this year.

At first, Nanami dismissed it as Kakashi being his usual enigmatic self. Kakashi was a highly capable Semi-First Grade sorcerer, and sorcerers hadn’t always been the most stable lot, and this includes Nanami as well.

But as their friendship grew and they spent more time together on missions and in their off-duty moments, Nanami couldn't ignore the underlying tension.

Kakashi was a man of few words, but his actions spoke volumes. There were meanings to his actions.

Nanami noticed the way Kakashi's gaze would linger just a second too long, the way he would start to say something only to bite back the words, and the way he would sometimes seem lost in thought when they were alone together.

How the warmth in his eyes seems to extend to Nanami as well.

Was it too much to hope? Was it too presumptuous of Nanami to assume?

Like the coward that he was, Nanami never prodded too deep. He had come to care for the man too much, hence his hesitancy to cross a line that might complicate their partnership and friendship. He was satisfied with this, he thought. 

…

Next time. 

Like the fool of a man in love that he is, Kento wishes for the next time, as always.

-x-

Extra: Sunset Tangerine Serenity

It has been a long while since he was last here.

The crunches of leaves followed the sounds of cicadas in the heat of summer, as Kakashi made his way up the stone stairs that led up to the Gojo manor. The steps had worn smooth by the passage of time and countless feet. Moss and lichen clung to the stones, lending an air of ancient wisdom to the climb. The stairways were flanked by towering trees that provided a natural canopy, casting dappled shadows along the path.

The Gojo manor stood atop a gentle hill, unchanged over the years. It was a place of grandeur and tradition, with its traditional Japanese architecture juxtaposed against the modern world. Passing through the barrier with ease, Kakashi stood momentarily in the manicured garden, a blend of rock gardens, koi ponds, and precisely trimmed bonsai tree, an area that sat in the centre of the manor. Having rarely seen it, the silver-haired hurriedly moved on, breezing through the servants that were welcoming him with respectful bows.

The scent of autumn wafted through the air. This whole place, despite its aged appearance, held a sense of serenity and nostalgia for Kakashi. It was here that he had spent most of this life’s childhood, had met Satoru, and nurtured under the vigilant eye of the woman he now was looking for.

Homura, despite the repeated offers from both Satoru and Kakashi to leave whenever she wanted, for all the things she had done for Kakashi in that she would be compensated so greatly, she would no longer have to work another day for the rest of her life, chose to stay. 

“I found myself rather attached to you two, and would like to continue to serve this family for as long as this body is able to.” Homura had said in a deep bow to him and Satoru, “I will admit that my initial motive was monetary gain, but as time passed, I came to see you as the family I never had. Growing up as an orphan in a remote and forgotten village, you both have filled my life with immeasurable warmth and belonging. I offer you nothing but nothing but my unwavering loyalty and the love of a devoted family member. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

Recognising her invaluable contributions to their lives, Satoru officially appointed her as the Head of Servants for the Gojo Manor. Homura's responsibilities extended beyond caring for the household; she managed the entire domestic staff, oversaw the household's daily operations, and ensured that everything ran smoothly.

Kakashi rounded the last corner that led to his old wing, and was greeted by a nostalgic sight. 

A woman, her once raven-black hair now silvered with age, was chatting with another servant as they sat at the genkan . She wore a smile that reached the warmth of her eyes, and her gait held a sense of grace and familiarity. Her presence seemed to fill the space, and for a moment, she looked almost regal in her simple yet elegant attire. 

Kakashi stood, and their eyes met across the yard. For a moment, time seemed to pause as the memories of his childhood flooded back. He saw the young caretaker who had taken care of him when he was at his lowest, a pillar of support in her own way.

There was no need for words. Kakashi approached her, and they embraced warmly, her arms wrapping around him in their reunion. 

"Kakashi-kun," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm, carrying a mixture of emotions – joy, nostalgia, and a hint of maternal scolding. "You're still the same troublesome boy I remember."

Kakashi couldn't help but smile beneath his mask. "You haven't changed either, Homura-san."

As they pulled away from the embrace, Homura's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "What brings you back here?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of intrigue.

They set foot in the building that used to be Kakashi’s old little space, with almost nothing changed over the years. It was kept cleaned, dusted and maintained, with Kakashi giving permission to the manor servants to use the area as they saw fit. Mostly, they use it as an area of respite after finishing their duties, wiring down for a good old gossiping session around tea and snacks. 

They made themselves comfortable around the ancient tatami table, already served a pot of fresh tea and some biscuits brought by another bowing servant.

Kakashi hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to put it into words. He had come back to seek her help, after all. "I... need your assistance, Homura-san," he began, his words carefully chosen. "I have a meeting with a... friend later this evening, and I want to make a good impression."

For a whole minute, Homura looked genuinely stunned. 

Before she burst into tears.

“Ah, are you finally going to give me grandchildren?” She pretended to sniffle, in lieu of crying. She wiped the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief. “Ah, finally, I get to see little Kakashis–”

“Homura-san, I’m not even married yet.”

Immediately his former caretaker stopped wiping her eyes, a scowl replacing her wistful smile.  “Then,” Homura said, “Are you getting married instead–”

Kakashi looked at her in exasperation. 

“Homura-san, this is just going to be a meetup between two work colleagues,” He said, hating how he stumbled over that phrase. “Certainly not something that ludicrous.”

“Oho!” Homura sounded proud on Kakashi’s behalf, “So it’s a date instead!”

Kakashi threw his hands up in the air with a flair of dramatic pique. “You know, this is exactly why I don’t come back here every often. And how come you don’t bother Satoru about all this nonsense?!” 

“Kakashi-kun, dear, with all due respect, as much as the Master has the means to attract with his looks,” Homura said unapologetically without skipping a beat, “Beyond that however, one would really need to be pressed to be willing to marry Master Satoru with all of his brashness and… eccentricity.”

Kakashi feels like he should defend Satoru in this manner. For some reason, Homura was looking at Kakashi in particular when she said that last bit. 

No time. The silver-haired man glanced over the clock on the wall which just happens to be located behind Homura. Usually Kakashi would be the last person to ever care about being on time but this time…

Homura seemed to notice Kakashi’s anxiousness because her eyes softened, “Come here,” She beckoned Kakashi forward, taking his hand into her own. She forced him to sit in front of the small standing mirror that was located in the living area, with an order to remove his jacket. As he was doing so, her fingers deftly undid the hair tie, allowing Kakashi's silver locks to cascade down. With her skilled hands moving with a practised grace, Homura produced a comb and took a strand to promptly begin brushing. She stood behind him, using the mirror to guide her. 

“Forgive me for prying,” The sentence fell softly somewhere between, “Despite you saying it’s just with a friend, it sounds important to you.”

He kept silent. 

Because probably, he himself doesn’t know the reason. 

Kakashi's silence hung between them for a moment as he regarded his former caretaker with a mix of emotions. Homura's understanding gaze was both comforting and unnerving, as if she could read his thoughts.

Finally, Kakashi sighed and gave a small, resigned nod. "It is important," he admitted. "I don't understand it myself, but I just... I don't want to mess this up."

Homura's eyes softened even more, and she patted his hand gently. "Kakashi-sama, sometimes the heart knows what the mind cannot fathom. If this meeting is significant to you, then embrace it, no matter what it may be called. Your happiness is what matters."

“Is it?” Kakashi couldn’t help but whisper.

“Everyone deserves happiness, Kakashi-kun.” Homura smiled gently, kindly. Her tone was motherly as she continued to comb through the long strands of Kakashi’s hair. “Especially, and I may be biassed in this, but I do mean it. You are allowed to be selfish, once in a while.“

His breath hitched, despite himself. 

“...Thank you.” He stared down at his lap, at his clenched fists. Unknowingly, his fingers had grabbed at the pants of his knees. “You’ve certainly put things in perspective.”

The two said nothing for a while Homura's motherly care was a balm to Kakashi's anxious soul. Her presence, her reassurance, made the daunting prospect of the…meet-up seem a little less overwhelming.

Homura continued to comb through Kakashi's long silver hair with a gentle touch, her fingers deftly working out any tangles or knots. The soft sound of the comb moving through his hair was soothing, and Kakashi closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to relax into the gesture.

"You know, Kakashi-kun," Homura said as she worked, "You've grown into quite the handsome young man. You always had that air of mystery about you, and it suits you."

Kakashi couldn't help but chuckle at that. "I suppose I have a reputation to uphold."

Homura's laughter was melodic and warm. "Indeed, you do. But don't forget, even the most enigmatic among us need someone to confide in, someone to share their secrets and their joys. You know this more than anyone else, I’m sure, and I’m sure Satoru-sama would agree as well."

Kakashi's eyes opened, and he met Homura's gaze in the mirror. Her words held a profound truth that struck a chord within him.

"I know," he said quietly, "I'm just not used to it."

Homura finished combing his hair and set the comb aside. She then moved on to adjust his clothing, smoothing out any wrinkles and making sure everything was in place. Her hands were skilled, and she treated him with the same care she had when he was a child.

"You'll get used to it," she assured him. 

With a final pat to his shoulder, Homura stepped back, admiring her handiwork. "You look perfect, Kakashi-kun. Just be yourself, and everything will go well…Is what I would say, but probably, you better change into something else other than that dusty jacket of yours…” 

She trailed off once she saw the clothing Kakashi had proudly produced from the bag he had brought with him.

“Ah this? I stole it from Satoru’s wardrobe.” Kakashi said, following her line of sight. “He was always saying that my fashion senses suck anyway. So I figured I borrowed one of his shirts. I don’t think he’ll mind.” He hastily added after seeing the odd expression on Homura’s face. 

The servant gave out quite the snort. “It’ll do, although I do find it a bit…ironic.” 

Before Kakashi could ponder over her words, the other herded him to his old room to change.

“Well, if it's from Satoru-sama's wardrobe, I'm sure it's stylish. And he's not using it now, is he?"

Kakashi couldn't help but grin at her response. "No, he's not. Besides, it's nice to wear something of his once in a while."

Homura ushered him towards his old room, her steps light as she followed him. "Indeed, it's a thoughtful gesture, Kakashi-kun. Now, let's get you changed."

Inside the familiar space, Kakashi quickly shed his jacket, revealing the dark undershirt beneath. Homura helped him slip into the borrowed grey button-down shirt with a practised ease. Her hands were gentle, and she made sure it hung perfectly on him. Considering how bulkier and taller Satoru was than him, they opted to leave the shirt open, layering it on top of Kakashi’s undershirt instead. 

“See how nice you look when you’re not dressed in those dreary, lumpy clothes you usually do?” Homura cooed, adjusting Kakashi’s collar, letting a few strands of his hair fall freely over his shoulders. 

“They’ll just get dirty when I go on missions,” Kakashi commented, “Plus, they’ll be impractical and will only hinder me–”

A light, exasperated smack against his collarbones shut him up. “Missions are not everything, dear. And you can wear these sorts of clothes outside of them.” 

Except Satoru would always screech at Kakashi if he ever chose something other than a baggy jacket. And Kakashi likes to wear layers anyway, so no harm done. 

She inspected him with a critical eye before nodding in approval. "Much better, Kakashi-kun. Now you're ready."

Kakashi gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you for everything, Homura-san.”

Homura's eyes sparkled with warmth, and she stepped closer, motioning Kakashi to lower himself a bit. When he did, the other placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "It's always a pleasure to see you, Kakashi-kun. I'm here whenever you need me."

Kakashi’s cheeks warmed at the gesture and the words. For someone who had grown up without a mother twice, it felt…nice. 

Homura accompanied him to the front gate. The warm sunlight filtered through the overhead canopies, casting a serene glow on their surroundings. Kakashi rummaged through his pocket for his phone, thumbing it to peer at the time.

Well, he’s not that late. Hopefully Nanami can forgive his tardiness just this one time.

“Oh, and Kakashi-kun?” The silver-haired man turned towards her, Homura standing near the pillar of the torii gate as she bid her former charge farewell. The sunlight trickled from between the overhead canopies, illuminating the greys in his former caretaker’s hair, a sign of age that had passed between them. 

“Bring over that ‘work colleague’ person sometimes, yeah?” Homura giggled with a twinkle in her eye, “I would love to meet them, this someone who could actually get you to dress up nicely for once.”

Kakashi laughed as he descended the steps, lazily waving at her from over his shoulder. 

He didn’t say no. 

…

Hatake Kakashi had always been a solitary figure, a man of few words and even fewer emotional expressions. He had grown up in a world of conflict and strife, where violence and sacrifice were the norm. As a young shinobi, he had made choices that haunted him, and the blood on his hands was a constant reminder of his past. 

And he had died for it. Had died with unfathomable regrets spilling in his last breath. 

The weight of his past, the mistakes he had made, still haunted him. The blood on his hands was a heavy burden that weighed on his soul, and he feared that if he allowed himself to love, he would only bring more suffering to those around him.

He knows this is an evitable fact. 

One day, probably, Satoru as well, Kakashi will…

His inner turmoil was a constant battle, and he wondered if he could ever find a way to reconcile the blood on his hands with the desire to love and be loved.

…He tries anyway. 

-x-

Omake 1: A Shinobi and A Car Drove Into a Bar…

If there was anything Gojo Satoru loved more than anything in this world, of course, it was his beloved, innocent, enchanting, captivating, delightful, cherished, endearing, remarkable, extraordinary, utterly irreplaceable–

Ahem .

Now, as he was saying, brother complexes aside, he really does love Kakashi. Enough to put up with the other through thick and thin. Because the other, has countless times, done the same for him, with kindness and gentleness like none other. Even before Satoru was known as The Strongest.

But this. This.

Even he has his limits, apparently. 

“Nii-san, please!” Satoru wasn’t proud of the high-pitched yelp he let out, but at that near swerve where Kakashi had nearly bowled over a cycling pedestrian. Even with the cycling goggles that the guy was wearing, Satoru knew that he was staring back at them with a mixture of horror and anger, his form rapidly disappearing as their car continued to throttle forward at full speed. “Remember what I told you. Watch the gear!”

“I. Am.” Kakashi all but growled, eyes narrowed into slits. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that an improbable crack echoed from the leather as Satoru winced, fearing for the poor steering wheel's structural integrity. If the wheel is lost, then they are truly in trouble.

Their surroundings zoomed by in a flash of colours as Kakashi swerved a curb, the car tilting to a dangerous angle that they almost toppled, but it corrected itself at the last second just as another car’s furious honking at them was lost in the whirlwind of speed.

There wasn’t even a moment to breathe. The smell of ozone was apparent in the small confinement of the car, and there was even a spark sometimes smouldering from his brother’s fingertips. Thankfully, or unfortunately, it didn’t cause anything severe to hinder the brother’s mad dash down the road.

Satoru gripped the door handle with all his strength, eyes widening as he saw the traffic lights up ahead transition from yellow to red. He couldn’t suppress a yelp this time. “Nii-san, red light, red light, stop—!”

But Kakashi wasn’t paying attention to the traffic signals. His focus was unyielding, locked on a single objective—getting to their destination as fast as humanly possible. The engine roared as the car accelerated, tires squealing on the asphalt as it raced past the intersection just as the light turned red.

A chorus of angry horns blared from the cars they narrowly missed, and Satoru could hear the frustrated shouting of other drivers. Yet, it was all a blur to Kakashi. His brother was a whirlwind of controlled chaos, navigating through the maze of vehicles with split-second decisions that would have given any ordinary driver a heart attack.

The sensation of the car hugging the road tightly as they took a sharp turn almost forced Satoru to bite his tongue. He was no stranger to high-speed driving and thrills, but this was on an entirely different level. Kakashi was pushing the boundaries of what was safe, and Satoru wasn't sure if he should be awestruck or terrified.

"Kakashi!" Satoru called out again, more urgently this time. 

His plea seemed to reach his brother. Kakashi eased off the gas pedal, and the car gradually decelerated, merging back into the flow of traffic. He glanced at Satoru, his face flushed and adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

"Sorry, Satoru," Kakashi said, finally catching his breath. "I just wanted to make sure we didn't keep the kids waiting."

Satoru leaned back in his seat, breathing a sigh of relief as the world outside the car window slowed down to a more reasonable pace. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, Nii-san, but there's no need to break the sound barrier to get there."

Kakashi managed a sheepish grin. "Noted. I'll try to keep it within the speed limit from now on."

Spoiler: he did not keep to the speed limit. 

The rattling of metal was loud, but it was nothing compared to the sheer amount of adrenaline that was pumping through Satoru’s veins. He has, legit, never felt this scared over his life ever since the Toji Incident. 

Over the course of the next ten minutes, it only intensified.

Kakashi ran over a speed bump without slowing down. Because of his stature and height, Satoru immediately hit his head against the roof of the car, hard enough to leave a dent in the metal. 

"Okay, okay, that was bad," Kakashi muttered, once again slowing the car to a more reasonable speed. He took a deep breath and loosened his grip on the wheel. “I think I need a break.”

It took Satoru some moment to recollect his scattered brain cells for a proper, intelligible response. “Urh…great idea.” He slurred. “Do you want me to take over or…?”

Unsurprised, but also to his dismay, Kakashi refused, albeit it is due to his own stubbornness, it was also his vehemence to try to learn how to drive a car. 

Kakashi had always harboured a deep distaste for cars and driving in general. While some revel in the freedom and excitement of driving, Kakashi viewed it as a necessary evil that he couldn't quite escape, that automobiles were just moving, constricting death traps.

For the shinobi, cars represented confinement and limitations. The idea of being boxed into a metal contraption, manoeuvring through congested roads, felt suffocating. He couldn't comprehend the thrill others seemed to derive from the open road, nor the freedom that some associated with it. Freedom? What freedom is there to feel when you are essentially trapped in a moving metal box? Freedom is the rush of the wind you feel against your cheeks and clothes as you navigate through the thick branches of the luscious trees on foot, the Sun beating down on your skin.

So instead, Kakashi gravitated toward alternative modes of transportation. The older Gojo sibling has embraced the simplicity and environmental friendliness of public transportation…as well as poor Kiyokata Ijichi’s phone number.

Still, despite all of these apprehensions and hatred for the metal contraptions, Kakashi wants to learn how to drive because “it might come in handy one day” and “just in case I need to drive during a mission or an emergency”.

“The gas pedal, Nii-san, the—”

“I got it!”

Kakashi did get it, but instead of pressing the pedal with a gentle nudge, he nearly stomped on it. The car lurched forward like an excited puppy seeing its favourite chow.

“I think I’m starting to get it!” Kakashi smiled at Satoru, who had completely deflated into his seat. The other laughed weakly, nervously, hand clutching the handle bar he had unintentionally ripped off from its hinges. 

“Y-yeah. Smooth as silk.” Satoru grinned wobbly much like his knees if he was standing. He regretted eating that parfait early on, because he could certainly feel it sloshing inside his stomach in the inertia. He refused to vomit though, because the Great Gojo Satoru, the one with Limitless at his fingertips, hurling his guts out because of a little exciting car ride? Perish the thought. 

Kakashi still looks excited, which actually fills Satoru with dread. 

“Ne, Satoru,” Kakashi began, “How about we eat outside today? I’m sure the kids would want to eat something else other than my cooking for once.”

Satoru, cursed with his love for Kakashi, was unable to say no, even though the prospect of eating food that is not made by Kakashi-nii? Blasphemy. There were tears at the corner of Satoru’s eyes that were definitely not made because of the concussion.

As so, the streets of Japan suffered even more of the perilous endeavours of Kakashi’s driving skills – or lack thereof. 

By the time they reached Megumi and Tsumiki’s school, the car was heavily damaged and dented yet miraculously still running, and Satoru was sure that there were more than a few felonies that he needed to erase from Kakashi’s name. Fortunately Kakashi remembered to slow down in a school area, literally spinning the car multiple times to kill the momentum. The vehicle chugged along with a few spurts and coughs, before finally with a dying screech, it halted right in front of the school gates, and right in front of their two charges as well. 

Much to Megumi’s credit, the kid doesn’t look that scared for his life. Next to him with her hands tucked together, Tsumiki was more polite with her fear of Kakashi being the one behind the wheel, though her warm eyes still had a shred of doubt. 

“W-What’s the occasion?” She asked, even though she was warily looking at the new dents that lined the body of the car in odd shapes and corners. This was not exactly a peculiar sight, she and her stepbrother had witnessed Kakashi’s horrid driving skills before, hence the apprehension. Still, Kakashi does not try to drive often, because of his own aversiveness to being the one behind the wheel. Once in a blue moon, would Kakashi gather his wits to try taming the machine, at the expense of whatever car Satoru had bought for him specifically for the training session, and the public safety of Japan. 

“Kakashi-nii and I are bringing you guys to eat outside today!” was the excuse the Strongest sorcerer gave. He definitely did not just get out of the car with a relieved gasp.

Seeing through the bravado, Megumi stared pointedly at the broken handle bar that Satoru was still clutching with a very judgmental gaze. 

“I didn’t think that the reward for behaving in school today would be vehicular manslaughter.”

“Who gave you a funny bone all of a sudden?” Satoru said, though it was a weak bite. Especially since he was blazing Infinity at full capacity, enough output of cursed energy that it made the whole car hum. “And don’t lie, Megumi, I know you throttled some guys from the school over. You have bruises on your knuckles.”

A cute little huff, with Megumi promptly shutting up.

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Tsumiki smiled at Megumi, ever the peacemaker amongst the two. “If we survive the trip, there’s delicious food to look forward to!”

If Satoru wasn’t also fearing for his life, he would feel the slightest bit of pride for her for the jab.

Kakashi did not appear to notice the commotion, too busy rechecking the mirrors while mumbling under his breath.

“Hey kids.” He paused momentarily to adjust the rear view mirror one more time. It was at an odd angle that probably didn’t give him much leverage for the lanes behind him. The prospect of having so many blind spots leaves much to be desired, so many chances to be openly attacked on the road, so many unseen angles that the enemies could come from. Satoru knew that this was Kakashi’s thought process, because of how his fingers pressed down so hard that the mirror cracked. His brow twitched minutely even as his tone was amiable, throwing a strained smile at the children. “How was school?”

“Probably was a lot safer than afterschool,” Megumi received a jab from Tsumiki for that one, who quickly stated, “It was a great, though uneventful day. We’re preparing for Spring Break soon.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” Kakashi clearly wasn’t listening all that much, still going through the driving checklist in his head.

Tsumiki doesn’t mind, although after a very long look at the dent at the ceiling, and the random hole where Satoru’s side of the handle used to be, the girl gave the younger Gojo sibling a resigned expression. 

‘Alright, buckle up!” Kakashi chirped to his totally not-terrified passengers. “I’ll get us there in no time!”

With a violent screech of the tires, the car lurched violently backwards, and right into the school gates.

.

.

.

“No worries,” Kakashi stepped forward, patting his pockets for something, “I can drive us–”

Much to Yuuji and Nobara’s surprise, both Gojo-sensei and Megumi, with equally terror-stricken, high-pitched voices, immediately hollered, “NO!”

Kakashi pouted.

-x-

Omake: I am Perfectly Normal, Yes, It’s Not My Fault That You Non-Satoru Don’t Get It

“So, Gojo-sensei, have you always been such a bro-con to your brother?”

Yuuji spat out his drink. Megumi almost snapped his smartphone in half.

The one responsible for such a question, Nobara crossed her arms with a very straight-face, looking like she had not literally just dropped a bombshell of a question upon their teacher. 

Unexpectedly, instead of just shrugging it off with a fallacious smile as usual, their flamboyant teacher was sent floundering. "What? Bro-con? Me? No way! I mean, sure, I care about my Nii-san, but that doesn't make me a... a bro-con!

Although, Kakashi-nii is incredible. He's witty, intelligent, brave, kind-hearted, selfless, strong, resourceful, and an all-around amazing guy. I've always looked up to him. He's my inspiration, my role model, and my closest confidant. There's no one quite like Kakashi, and I'm so proud to be his brother. He's like a shining star in my life, illuminating every path I walk on. I mean, who wouldn't admire someone as outstanding as Kakashi-nii–”

“Geez, calm down you absolute bro-con. We get it, we get it.”

Abruptly, their teacher’s little tirade stopped. He stared at his female student with a strained forced grin. “Nobara-chan, would you kindly repeat that? I don’t think I’ve heard you right the first time~~”

Nobara looked at him dead straight in the eye before repeating, much louder and firmer–

“I said , to calm down, you absolute bro-con .”

“I am not !” Gojo-sensei gasped, hand on his chest to clutch his invisible pearls. He sounded so truly shocked and affronted, that both his other two students looked at him in equal puzzlement at his reaction. Doesn’t Gojo-sensei himself know that he has a brother complex? Was it so surprising? “You take that back!”

"Sorry, Gojo-sensei, but you're not fooling anyone," Nobara retorted, crossing her arms with a sly grin, obviously revelling in the fact that she managed to catch The Strongest . "You're the bro-con of the century, and we all know it, even me, and I’ve only known about Kakashi-san for nearly two weeks.” She glunched at her two yearmates.

Man, does she know how to hold a grudge.

“Megumi,” Gojo-sensei spun to grab the Ten Shadows user by the shoulders, “Tell me I’m not a bro-con.”

“You are not a bro-con.”

“Liar!” Gojo-sensei sobbed into his hands in appalment. “I can’t believe I raised a liar on top of all this.”

A vein popped in Megumi’s forehead as he glared at the soddy mop of a hairstyle that belonged to his stupid guardian, who definitely, absolutely, does not have a brother complex, “Do you want to be defended or not–?!”

Yuuji tried to console his teacher amidst his extremely fraudulent sobs, patting him on the back soothingly. “Gojo-sensei, I don’t think there is anything inherently bad about being a bro-con–”

“Yeah, except being an absolute weirdo.” Nobara interjected without any mercy, metaphorically continuing to punch her teacher in the gut. Yuuji tried to hush her up, to no avail. “Itadori, don’t sugarcoat it. Gojo-sensei’s a certified bro-con and he should just admit it.”

“I mean, yeah, you’re right but–”

Gojo-sensei spluttered, before he continued to dramatically sob into his hands. Betrayed! By his favourite student as well! It seemed there was no getting out of this one, and his "bro-con" reputation was here to stay.

Gojo Satoru, a bro-con . H-he’s not that overly intrusive, is he??? Or handsy. Or attached. Or possessive. Or–

Note: He’s guilty of all of the above.

“It’s not my fault you Non-Satoru people don’t get it!” Gojo howled so loudly that some birds took to the sky, scared by the noise. He laid upon his knees to the ground, his head to the Heavens above,  “It’s not my fault that Kakashi-nii is the best brother anyone could ever ask for! You’re just jealous that you’re unable to emit even a fraction of my love for Kakashi-nii!”

His students looked at one another, before collectively rolling their eyes. 

“Let’s make a bet then,” Nobara stuck her nose in the air, hands on her hips. She was exuberating pure confidence as she proposed, “If you can actually be a normal…brother – well, person, really, for the rest of today, then I will retract my statement with a complete formal handwritten apology from the great Kugisaki Nobara. I’ll even bow to you everytime I see you, and I’ll sing praises about you to every single person I meet! If you fail…,” She gave a dramatic pause, before smirking, “Then I get to use your credit card for the rest of the week. Without. Any. Restriction.”

Nobara preened when she felt the pairs of incredulous stares thrown at her back. Watch and learn, boys. This is her training for the day she shall conquer all of Roppongi! High risk, high rewards. Considering how very well-off Gojo-sensei is (considering how one of his shirts alone costs about 98k Yen), it’s not too much to ask of him to just “lend” one of his cards to Nobara, right?

Gojo-sensei was terrifyingly quiet.

Still on the ground in a fit of dramatic despair, the man suddenly sat up. A wicked, wild grin sprouted as he surveyed his students. "You're on," he declared with a grin that sent chills down their spines.

Yuuji and Megumi exchanged worried glances. They were all too aware of Gojo-sensei's tricks and schemes. A normal day without his "bro-con" tendencies? That seemed almost impossible. But at the same time, it’s not like they could stop either Kugisaki and Gojo-sensei with their little challenge.

Nobara, still confident in her bet, extended her hand. "Shake on it then, Gojo-sensei."

With an exaggerated flourish, Gojo-sensei shook Nobara's hand, sealing the wager. "Let the challenge begin!" He leaped to his feet, now radiating an unusual aura of determination. "I won't display a single… allegedly bro-con behaviour today. You'll see."

Judging by her narrowed eyes, it was clear that Nobara doesn’t believe in the slightest.

Yuuji checked the time on his smartphone. It was already late afternoon, so Gojo-sensei has a little over half the day to act, well, normal.

“Fine.”

Megumi and Yuuji tagged along against their will as well, at Nobara’s insistence. Gojo-sensei commented that Kakashi should be on school grounds, as he just got off from a mission.

They did find Kakashi relatively easy, despite their initial doubt. Purely maybe because the man was lying limp on top of a black and white mattress, directly out in the open underneath some trees. Yuuji honestly thought that the man was unconscious from exhausting himself again, but then there was a minute shift, a stretch of limbs, before Kakashi curled in upon himself. Curls of white strands illuminated under serene rays of sunlight, sprawling everywhere in various volumes of messes.

The black and white mattress under him whimpered, showing that it was not actually a mattress, but rather–

“P-panda-senpai? What are you doing?”

“Shhhh…” The cursed corpse stared back at them with a pair of glistening, beady eyes from where he was lying supine. “You’ll wake him up, although I would appreciate it if you do move him off…No, no, stop. Not like that.” Panda breathed out, the lump that was Kakashi moving along with the movement of his stomach. It was honestly kind of cute to witness.

“Why is Kakashi-san on top of you?” Yuuji kneeled next to the bizarre site, peering close at the older Gojo’s face. He was indeed deep in slumber, mask all crumpled in his position. The Urge to See returned but Yuuji literally slapped himself to prevent the author from writing more of that.

“I was walking back to Masamuchi’s after today’s training when on my way there, I saw Kakashi napping on this tree right here.” Panda pointed directly above them, and indeed, there was a luscious, shady tree fit for a whole person to hang about on its branch. Combined with the fine, warm weather, the prospect of dozing outdoors actually sounds appealing.

“I figured he was doing his usual napping routine and was about to pass him when I saw him about to fall off from the branch he was in, and he did , after a roll. I did the only thing I could at the time and belly flopped to catch him. And now I’m here.”

Nobara raised an eyebrow, observing the peculiar scene. "So you're like a fluffy, heroic cushion for Kakashi-san?"

Panda nodded. "Yes, but I'm stuck. I'm basically his living bed." Abruptly, he paused.

“Is this how cat owners feel when their cat falls asleep on top of their lap and they can’t move?!” Panda screeched in revelation, his round ears twitching fretfully. Even with his inhuman characteristics, it was obvious that he was mortified that he was going to meet his end here – not in a battle against a cursed spirit or a curse user, but in a battle against an unmoving, sleeping Kakashi.

Panda’s exclamation was a bit too loud, and disrupted by the noise, Kakashi murmured something incoherent and reached out, clamping his fingers around Panda's soft panda fur. It was as if the slumbering sorcerer had a sixth sense for the presence of his fellow panda-clad companion, and his subconscious mind had decided that Panda was a suitable nap buddy. Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief as Kakashi settled back into a peaceful sleep, still completely unaware of the presence of an audience now watching him.

“I’m surprised he could even sleep out here like this…” Nobara murmured. “Especially with the panda smell.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that my nice fur smells like Febreeze. Hardly like a panda. And I am not a regular panda!”

“So…are you a Panda or not a Panda?”

Yuuji said, “Should we bring him a blanket or something? Or at least, move him?” He flexed his arms, ready to carry out the task.

“No, it’s fine, he’s always like this,” Megumi added, “He likes to nap in the trees, especially when he’s recovering. Plus usually Gojo-sensei…”

They all collectively looked at Gojo-sensei, who was practically vibrating from where he was standing, with an energy that seemed to suggest he was ready to pounce at any moment.

…

“Come on boys, I’m gonna need someone to carry my bags for me~” Obviously ecstatic, Nobara led the charge to the shopping mall, her teammates in tow. “And then we’re going for the premium end sushi! Only the best Tokyo has to offer!”

Megumi murmured quietly at the crook of his collar even as he followed in tandem, “...You planned this.”

His female teammate tried for an innocent “Who, me?” look, but it didn’t quite work, especially with the way she flashed all of Gojo Satoru’s credit cards in one hand like a multicoloured plastic fan. Megumi could only sigh, while Yuuji grinned at him cheekily, sneakily trying to grab one of the very valuable credit cards for himself while Nobara screeched.

They left Gojo-sensei crying and cooing something unintelligible as he held Kakashi in his arms, rapidly snapping photos after photos with his cellphone while the older Gojo rubbed at his eyes sleepily, having woken up by the motions. He murmured, “Satoru…?” while Satoru was sniffling, “The Non-Satoru people made me do it! Nii-nii~~~~”

…

“Hey…guys..?” Panda called out to the trio’s retreating backs, a bead of sweat trailing down even as his whole body still laid motionless, now being pressed down by Satoru’s additional weight and having to bear witness to the two brothers’ theatrics against his will, “Help me out? Please? Don’t leave meeeee–”

-x-