Satoru Gojo (4k)

The dust had yet to settle.

Yuji Itadori knelt on the ground, gasping for breath.

Once Sukuna's consciousness receded, control of his body returned to him, but the remnants of that savage cursed energy still burned in his veins.

Megumi Fushiguro leaned against a broken wall, his left hand pressed to his ribs, blood seeping between his fingers.

He stared at Itadori with a complicated expression.

He had never seen anyone swallow Sukuna's Finger and still reclaim their body.

Mashiro stood ten meters away, Murasame already sheathed.

She brushed the strands of hair Sukuna had severed off her shoulder and dusted off her sleeves, her movements unhurried.

Fervor belonged in battle, but elegance never went out of style.

The Dharma Wheel above her head slowly stopped, and the fighting spirit burning in her eyes gradually faded, leaving them calm again.

Once Itadori caught his breath, the first thing he did wasn't check his injuries, but turn to look for Mashiro.

He saw her standing there, a few tears in her tracksuit and a length missing from her silver hair, but steady on her feet as she brushed dust from her sleeves.

"Senpai!" he called, his voice still trembling from his earlier gasping, his concern impossible to suppress.

He braced his hands on his knees and stood, his legs still a little weak, then staggered two steps toward Mashiro. "Are you okay? Did that guy hurt you anywhere? I couldn't control him just now. When I saw him attack you, I-"

"Yuji," Mashiro interrupted.

Itadori stopped in his tracks, his mouth still open.

Mashiro looked at him, her crimson eyes faintly shining in the moonlight, and said calmly, "I'm fine. Are you hurt anywhere?"

Itadori paused, her calm gaze slowly soothing his emotions as well.

He looked down at his hands and lifted his legs. "I think... I'm okay."

"Good, then."

With that, she shifted her gaze from him to Megumi Fushiguro behind him.

Itadori followed her gaze and turned around. Only then did he remember Fushiguro was still injured, and he immediately ran back to help him.

Just then, a wave of spiritual pressure descended from above.

An immense, unconcealed source of cursed energy rapidly approached from high in the sky.

Mashiro looked up, her silver hair streaming backward in the wind stirred by that cursed energy.

Here he comes.

A figure descended from the night sky, his posture as casual as if he were taking a stroll.

White hair, a black blindfold, and a Jujutsu High uniform worn loosely, brimming with swagger.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest of the modern age.

The instant he landed, the rush of air pushed the surrounding rubble aside.

With both hands in his pockets and his head tilted, he first glanced at Megumi Fushiguro slumped on the ground, then at Itadori supporting him, before finally looking at Mashiro.

When his gaze reached her, it lingered a beat longer.

"Yo," Satoru Gojo said, his tone as casual as if he'd run into an acquaintance at a convenience store. "Megumi, didn't you say you were just picking up a cursed object? How did it turn into this?"

Megumi Fushiguro gritted his teeth and tried to stand. After two failed attempts, he stayed against the wall and said, "Something went wrong. Cursed spirits attacked us, and then he swallowed the finger."

He patted Itadori beside him.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Satoru Gojo walked over to Itadori, bent down, and leaned in for a closer look, his expression hidden behind his black blindfold.

Itadori squirmed under his scrutiny. Just as he was about to say something, Satoru Gojo suddenly reached out and flicked his forehead.

"Ow!" Itadori covered his forehead. "What was that for?"

"Can you move?"

"Y-yeah, I can."

"Then take a few steps."

Itadori had no idea why, but he stood up and took two steps anyway.

After those two steps, he stopped and glanced back toward Mashiro, looking away only after confirming she was still there.

Satoru Gojo noticed, but said nothing.

He straightened, his tone still light. "Interesting. You swallowed Ryomen Sukuna's finger and still managed to take back control of your body. What's your name?"

"Yuji Itadori."

"Yuji Itadori," Satoru Gojo repeated. Two seconds later, he abruptly turned toward Mashiro. "And what about this little lady?"

The change of subject came without warning.

Though his tone remained relaxed, Mashiro could feel that Satoru Gojo's attention had shifted entirely to her.

My first encounter with the strongest of the modern age? How interesting.

"Kujo Mashiro," she introduced herself. "Hello, Mr. Satoru Gojo."

"Kujo?" Satoru Gojo tilted his head, as though trying to remember something. "That Kujo family? I seem to remember..."

"They're gone," Mashiro finished for him. "I should be the last one."

Satoru Gojo didn't respond. He took half a step around Mashiro, as though examining something interesting.

Though his eyes were hidden by his blindfold, his gaze had an overwhelming presence. Goose bumps rose on Mashiro's skin the instant it swept over her.

She frowned and was about to say something when he withdrew his gaze.

"Sorry, sorry," he said, stopping. "But your cursed technique is pretty strange. Does it have something to do with that thing above your head?"

Mashiro didn't evade his question, answering with the explanation she'd prepared long ago. "My cursed technique can understand and copy other cursed techniques. The flames and Space Cutting I used against Sukuna just now were things I learned from cursed spirits I encountered before."

"Copy?" Satoru Gojo's voice rose slightly. "Isn't that pretty impressive? How many cursed techniques have you learned?"

"I haven't counted."

That answer made Satoru Gojo smile, interest flashing in his eyes.

"Then why are you here?" His tone deepened only slightly, yet it brought immense pressure. "Don't tell me you were just passing by."

Itadori flinched, then stepped in from the side to stand in front of Mashiro.

"Senpai came to see me! She's-"

"Yuji." Mashiro interrupted him by calling his name.

Itadori immediately fell silent and turned to look at her.

Mashiro looked at Satoru Gojo and answered succinctly, "I came to see him."

Satoru Gojo's gaze drifted between the two.

A pink-haired boy who instinctively stepped in front of her. A silver-haired girl who needed only to call his name to silence him.

Interesting.

"You two," Satoru Gojo said, pulling a hand from his pocket and pointing between them, "what's your relationship?"

Mashiro didn't answer right away. She glanced at Itadori in front of her.

The rooftop wind swept past, lifting a corner of her hem.

As his protector, what's the best way to put it?

Mashiro thought for a moment, remembering what she'd said yesterday.

"...I'm his older sister," Mashiro said.

Age-wise, I should be his younger sister, but what about my dignity?!

Itadori whipped his head around to look at her.

Satoru Gojo's eyebrows rose slightly above his blindfold. "His older sister? You two look nothing alike."

"Is that a problem?" Mashiro's voice remained level as she raised her eyes, meeting Satoru Gojo's blindfold with her crimson gaze.

Satoru Gojo looked at her, then at Itadori, whose face practically screamed, I don't know, don't ask me, I don't dare say anything. The corners of his mouth slowly curved upward.

"Nope." He chuckled. "Why would it be? Of course it's fine."

He pulled his hand out of his pocket and patted Itadori's shoulder a little harder than before. Itadori stumbled a small step forward, but Satoru Gojo kept his hand on his shoulder.

"Your sister's pretty impressive, Itadori." He bent down and leaned toward Itadori's ear. Though he looked as if he were whispering, his voice was loud enough for everyone present to hear. "She exchanged quite a few blows with Sukuna and survived. Doesn't seem like she suffered any serious injuries, either."

This guy's saying that for my benefit on purpose, isn't he?

Mashiro pursed her lips and ignored his provocation.

Just wait. Once I reach Special Grade, I'll show off and send Satoru Gojo flying.

Satoru Gojo straightened and turned to Mashiro, his tone casual again. "I'll tell the Higher-Ups that Yuji Itadori will be joining Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu High under supervision. Any objections from his big sister?"

"No, but I need to be able to visit him whenever I want."

"No problem. You're welcome anytime. I'll put you down as an authorized visitor." He paused, then added, "You don't seem surprised at all that Itadori's being taken to Jujutsu High."

Mashiro looked at him, her calm face utterly expressionless. Having a cold face came in handy at times like this. "I was surprised. You just couldn't tell."

Satoru Gojo froze for a beat, then genuinely laughed.

He really had never met a girl with such personality.

"Interesting." He adjusted his blindfold. "Next time we meet, let me see the limits of your copying."

"Sure. I'm curious about the Six Eyes' cursed technique, too."

"I'll let you get a good look." With that, he pulled Fushiguro up from the ground, slung his arm over his shoulder, and took a few steps toward the stairwell.

Then he added without looking back, "Oh, right. Don't go telling everyone about tonight. Those old geezers among the Higher-Ups hate minors fighting right under their noses, especially against Sukuna."

"Got it."

Satoru Gojo disappeared into the stairwell with Fushiguro supported against him. A muffled grunt drifted back, followed by the complaint, "Stop dragging me. My legs aren't broken."

Only two people remained on the rooftop.

Mashiro still stood in the same spot, unmoving.

Itadori turned to look at her. His expression was strange, the corners of his mouth twitching as though he wanted to smile but couldn't quite manage it.

"Senpai," he began, his voice a little strained, "you said... older sister just now."

"Shut up."

"Yes, big sis." The pink-haired boy stood at attention.

Mashiro turned her face away and lowered her head to fuss with a tear in her cuff, her silver hair falling to hide her profile.

"Your grandpa entrusted you to me, so I'm your older sister. Don't overthink it."

Itadori froze for a moment.

"Then," he began, his voice still a little tight, "does that mean I have to call you big sis from now on?"

"Suit yourself."

"But, senpai."

"Hm?"

"When you told Mr. Gojo, 'I'm his older sister,' didn't you forget something?"

Mashiro looked up at him.

Itadori's expression was serious, but he was holding back a smile. He extended his index finger, pointing at himself, then at Mashiro.

"I'm Yuji Itadori. Fifteen years old. First year of high school."

Then his finger stopped in front of Mashiro.

"And you, senpai..."

He paused, as though weighing his words.

"You don't look a day over twelve, do you?"

Silence fell for a beat.

Mashiro stared at him expressionlessly, not a ripple in her crimson eyes, yet Itadori inexplicably felt a chill at the back of his neck.

"What's your point?"

"I mean," Itadori said, scratching his head and grinning, his usual carefree spirit returning, "people would think it was weird if I called you my older sister. A big guy who's a hundred and seventy centimeters tall calling a little girl who's a hundred and forty centimeters tall his big sister? No matter how you look at it, I seem more like the big brother, right?"

"A hundred and forty-four," Mashiro corrected.

"What's the difference?!"

"Yuji Itadori." Mashiro lowered the hand she'd been using to straighten her cuff and stood upright.

She was nearly thirty centimeters shorter than Itadori, but she lost none of her commanding presence as she looked up at him. "Your grandpa entrusted you to me, so the age hierarchy in this family is getting a reset."

Itadori froze. "Wh-what does that mean?"

"It means," Mashiro said, lifting her leg and lightly kicking Itadori's, "no matter how old I am, I'm the older sister."

"But how old are you anyway, senpai-"

"Twelve."

Itadori blinked.

"Twelve?!" His voice shot up before he hastily lowered it again. He glanced around, confirmed Satoru Gojo had gone far away, then leaned a little closer. "You're really twelve, senpai? I thought you were at least fourteen!"

"Because I'm more mature than you."

"...Can't argue with that." Itadori scratched the back of his head, his expression shifting back and forth between shock and acceptance before finally settling into a smile of realization. "So you're not in my year, and you're not an upperclassman. You're three years younger than me, and you're my-"

He stopped halfway through. The threat in those crimson eyes was enough to make him swallow the rest.

"...Older sister," he obediently corrected himself.

Mashiro withdrew the hand she'd placed at his waist in preparation for a vicious pinch, her silver hair swaying gently as she turned.

Silence lingered for a moment. Wind poured through the gaps in the damaged wall, making the hem of Itadori's school uniform flap.

"Big sis Mashiro."

The boy's clear voice came from behind her.

Mashiro stopped without turning around. "What?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to try calling you that." Itadori smiled and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. "It rolls off the tongue pretty well."

She turned her head slightly, her crimson eyes half hidden beneath her long lashes.

Yuji Itadori, the future strongest, was still nothing more than an ordinary hot-blooded boy right now.

She had no anchor in either her original world or this one.

From childhood onward, she'd been like a buoy drifting with the current, and in the stillness of the night, a trace of loneliness would surface from time to time.

In this world, starting to change now wasn't such a bad thing.

"Suit yourself," Mashiro said softly.

Then she descended the steps from the rooftop and stopped as she passed him. She lifted her foot and gave Itadori another light kick.

She kicked exactly the same spot as before, with exactly the same force.

"I'm off. I'll come see you again tomorrow."

She turned and entered the stairwell, her footsteps soft as her figure gradually disappeared into the distance.

Itadori stood where he was and patted the leg Mashiro had kicked twice. He called down the stairs, "Big Sis Mashiro!"

Her footsteps didn't stop, but an impatient voice drifted back. "What now?"

"Nothing! Just wanted to call you that again!" Itadori held on to the railing, laughing so hard his shoulders shook.

"Eek!"

The next second, a small flame struck the railing, giving him quite a fright.

"Hmph." A smug chuckle drifted back, then faded away completely.

Itadori left the stairwell with a smile and headed toward the school gates.

Satoru Gojo was leaning against the car door, playing on his phone. When he saw Itadori approach, he looked up and glanced at him.

"Done talking?"

"Yeah."

"Where's your sister?"

"She left."

"She left? Then what are you smiling about?" Satoru Gojo put his phone away and opened the driver's door, his tone unmistakably teasing.

Itadori climbed into the back seat, shut the door, and sank back against the seat.

"Because," he said, stifling a laugh, "I've got a little sister who's older than me."

What was that supposed to mean?

Satoru Gojo glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

Fushiguro turned his head from the passenger seat. Seeing that Itadori didn't look like he was joking, he nodded knowingly.

So swallowing a Special Grade Cursed Object affected intelligence even more than expected. Truly valuable information.

"A little sister... who's older than you?" Satoru Gojo repeated. Realizing something, he twitched the corner of his mouth and said nothing more.

These two siblings were really something else.

"Yeah."

Itadori said nothing more either and closed his eyes.

Big Sis Mashiro. That really did roll off the tongue.

It had taken him a roundabout route to figure it out, but now he felt he should have called her that from the start.

Exhaustion washed over him all at once, and Itadori fell into a deep sleep.

Satoru Gojo glanced at him in the rearview mirror, deep in thought.

"The Copy cursed technique," he murmured, barely loud enough for himself to hear. "Who does she think she's fooling?"

The Six Eyes glowed faintly beneath his blindfold.

The way that girl's cursed energy flowed wasn't something a word like "copy" could explain.

It was as though her body contained an independent analytical system that could run continuously. Her cursed energy kept adjusting itself, restructuring, evolving. He couldn't make sense of it.

"The Kujo family... I've never heard of them having a cursed technique like that, or anyone like her."

Satoru Gojo looked up at the quiet moon outside the car window, but his tone grew lighter still. "Well, as long as she's not an enemy. She doesn't mean Yuji Itadori any harm, either. She's pretty protective of him, actually. I'll keep watching for now."

He pressed down on the accelerator, and the car picked up speed.