Chapter Text
“Itadori!”
Held up in the air by the massive, clawed fist of the Curse with the headache of a century pulsing at his temples, Yuuji contemplated his life.
His first life had faded into an impression now. Rather than clear memories. He lived in this world for fifteen years after all, new memories replaced the old. Still nonetheless, Yuuji held a clear timeline of what would happen to him after this moment.
For the most part.
Swallow Sukuna’s finger, become a Sorcerer. Collect said fingers and be drawn into Sukuna’s plots, watch people die around him. Get his ass beat a half dozen times, then eventually win.
…Was how the plot worked out for Itadori Yuuji, first timer in life, who got shoved into the Jujutsu world. Bright and cheerful Itadori Yuuji, friend to all, who even offered Ryoumen Sukuna sanctuary at the end.
Current Yuuji was not that Yuuji. Current Yuuji spent his time reading books of all genres, taking care of his cranky grandfather whilst simultaneously accidentally scaring the elderly population. He must have given the woman in the room next to his grandfather’s in the hospital at least three heart attacks.
Previous Yuuji inhaled the finger without so much as blinking.
He felt betrayed slightly, said mummified flesh held between his teeth, unsurprisingly tasted like shit. Sure, the Curse holding him hostage threatened to swallow both him and the finger, but he couldn’t make himself want to do the same. How had previous Yuuji eaten it so easily? The idea of a wrinkled and ancient digit sliding down his throat made him want to gag.
Another part of him still rebelled against his fate. A childish desire to be free of the responsibility Cannon Yuuji accepted without missing a beat. Yuuji made it seem so effortless to want to help others.
Why did helping others mean he had to sacrifice himself? Not just a part, the whole of his existence, to the King of Curses. How did Yuuji just accept it all so easily?
Fushiguro fought as best as he could, and a glance toward his exhausted form told Yuuji all he needed. Fushiguro would not be able to stop this from happening. No one would save him from this fate.
Still…
A gaping maw of teeth and saliva opened underneath his feet, Yuuji stared at his impending doom for a second in absolute apathy.
Dying would be so easy. Gojo could take out the special grade that formed out of swallowing him and the finger. Then Yuuji would die, start the reincarnation cycle over once again, and hope that his Karma granted him access to an easier life. Because it certainly hadn’t warranted a happy one this time.
The world would be someone else’s responsibility. He was never meant to be here anyway.
Yuuji leaned his head back to stare at the night sky and sighed.
Giving up worked for other people, not someone like him. A random person shoved into the main character of a series he once read. Canon Yuuji was far too important to let die like this. If anything, he owed canon Yuuji after replacing him.
So that meant Yuuji needed to eat the disgusting finger.
A shiver ran down his spine and he crunched his nose at the thought.
God he was going to have an ancient whiny Curse stuck in his head.
Then he swallowed.
“Oh, you’re awake.”
Yuuji’s body felt like a piece of led, and his back ached something fierce thanks to the odd angle he slept in. He straightened himself in the hardwood chair, mindful of the rope and seals placed on his body, and opened his heavy eyes.
A man sat in front of him, backwards on the chair with his eyes covered in a black cloth. His face and body a picture of absolute ease, lips spread into what appeared to be a friendly smile.
Yuuji decided he didn’t like that smile. Gojo Satoru seemed perfect, glowing to an extent with a certain edge to him. Non-human even. Yuuji’s skin tingled, he imagined being a sailor in the middle of the ocean, as a harsh wind blew, gazing at the dark clouds of an incoming storm. Yuuji’s breath escaped him from the sight. He had just glimpsed the man and his skin broke out in goosebumps as a featherlight touch danced down his arms.
Was this how the Greeks perceived Demi-gods? An Inevitable force of destruction?
“How are you feeling?”
Yuuji rolled his shoulders as much as he was able, winced when a sore spot stung for a moment and shrugged.
“Considering what just happened, okay.”
“So, you remember last night?”
“Only of when I was fighting, the battle between you and the bastard is a bit of a blur to me.”
Gojo laughed.
“The bastard huh? Well, you still have control I see. Amazing.”
Yuuji tried his best to look interested in the conversation. If he could help it, no one would ever find out how much he knew. He glance around the seal covered room to appear curious about the environment. Solid concrete walls on all sides, covered by even more paper seals, the air felt more contained here, stale, a bead of sweat trailed down his temple.
He expected to wake up with a Cursed Spirit shouting at him. Yet nothing but his own consciousness. Not even a strange sensation of being wrong. The lack of made his gut curl.
“Who are you?” Yuuji asked belatedly, to try and distract himself. “Everything that happened last night was like something I’d watch on television. Cursed Spirits and strange powers…I don’t understand.”
“Totally understandable you’re confused!” Gojo chirped. “I supposed I’ll start from the beginning, you’re sentenced to death!”
Yuuji wanted to facepalm.
A horrible place to start.
“What?!” He raised his voice and clenched his fists. “I’m sentenced to death?”
“That finger you swallowed last night, was one of many that belonged to the King of Curses, perhaps the most powerful beings of his time. Until last night, I had my dear student collecting them to try and mitigate the chance of that man being unsealed, but that plan didn’t go very well!”
Yuuji blinked.
No kidding.
“You swallowing it should have eradicated your soul as soon as you swallowed the finger. Because it didn’t, the Elders are insistent that I kill you.”
“Elders?”
Gojo waved a hand. “Just a bunch of cranky old men.”
“Right.”
“You’re taking this rather well.”
Was he?
Yuuji offered a semblance of a smile, though his bones ached. His current body being tired spoke volumes of how far he pushed himself last night. Especially when the King of Curses took over and battled Gojo. When was the last time he felt like this? He couldn’t remember being sore before. Sleeping on this chair in this prison had not helped the recovery process.
“I’m just taking it all in.” He offered. “Is there no way to destroy the fingers? Maybe you could take it out of me?”
Gojo hummed and leaned his chin on his arms propped on the back of the chair. “Nope!” He raised a hand, and a wrinkled finger made Yuuji lean back, he gagged at the memory of the taste.
His skin prickled at the sensation of unease washed through him that originated from the finger. Sukuna’s Cursed Energy perhaps.
“Can’t blame you for that reaction, the Cursed Energy is absolutely putrid, nothing but a Cursed Spirit would consider eating it.” A blink, the air turned heavy, and the finger shot to the nearest wall like a bullet, grey stone cracked underneath.
“As you can see, these things can’t be destroyed by normal means.” Gojo started, the finger stood out proudly from the wreckage. “With each passing day they grow stronger, we don’t even have someone to seal them properly.”
A graceful hop and Gojo strode to the finger and pulled it out of the wall. “Oops, looks like I made a hole in the wall!” He giggled at the mistake.
Yuuji remained silent, because of the blindfold he had no idea what Gojo’s eyes were looking at.
“I have a feeling I come into play then, because I can stay in control?”
“Correct! Despite your looks, you’re rather smart, aren’t you?”
Was that a compliment?
Yuuji shrugged.
“Being able to house the King of Curses is no small feat, so I fought against the Elders demands to kill you instantly. It would be a waste.”
“A waste?”
“There’s no guarantee someone like you will appear ever again, so I proposed that if we were to kill you, we might as well do it once you consumed all of Sukuna’s fingers.”
Knowing his fate, and hearing a person causally talk about his death was completely different. Yuuji internally took a deep breath, as cold anxiety made him want to start freaking out.
He didn’t want to die again.
He was ready to.
Dying once had been so terrifying. The unknown, leaving everyone he cared about, disappearing into nothing so that he was erased in entirety. He knew as soon as he looked into the mirror for the first time, and saw the strawberry blond hair what he’d face. Accepted it as fifteen years passed.
I am not afraid.
“The Elders agreed, and so now you have two options. Die now, or find the remaining parts of Sukuna, and die after swallowing every single one.”
Itadori Yuuji smiled.
I’m terrified.
He attended the funeral for the two students that ended up getting killed in the incident with Sukuna’s finger. Gojo Satoru gave him three days to think about his choice, and Yuuji appreciated the bit of mercy the Sorcerer offered. He had three days to contemplate the Cursed Spirit inside of him, and he felt no better a place to do so than a funeral.
Two pictures of vaguely familiar faces were framed and set up by smoking incense, a dark-haired female and male.
He stared at them silently as people whispered. Dozens of bodies of students sat in Seiza, lined perfectly so they created neat rows in the room. The teachers didn’t bother to hush the noise, as their solemn faces spoke words of their reaction to the death.
He never even remembered their names before accepting their offer to join the club. The Archery club was up his ass about joining, and he desperately needed an excuse to avoid the Captain of the team. Coming upon the very people who had Ryoumen Sukuna’s finger felt like a kick to the gut. Denial had been the shelter he hid under until that moment.
He just wished he’d been able to save them, Canon Yuuji did.
As proper, he kept himself composed and sent a prayer, a plea almost, to ask that they were reincarnated in a better realm.
No one would ever know the true cause of their death. Besides himself and Fushiguro Megumi, who saw it firsthand while they battled the Curses together. Not even the parents were allowed to know because of the Jujutsu Laws.
His face remained dry of tears as he handed the school office the notice of his departure, official documents Gojo had given him, in case he decided the option of finding Sukuna’s twenty fingers. Ryoumen Sukuna intended to kill a lot more people, he didn’t have the luxury to mourn each one in a way they deserved.
But he’d never forget the fact that he failed them.
Back at his house, he slid open the pair of shoji doors, and took off his shoes at the Genkan, a mud room of sorts that led directly into the house for shoes and personal items to be left.
“I’m home.”
…
Oh. Right.
Yuuji blinked at the Hinoki wood stairs framed by a matching wooden entryway, where his grandfather should have been.
“Took you long enough brat! Don’t tell me you got in another fight again!”
Grandfather died.
He let out a shaky sigh and ran a hand through his hair.
Feet slipping into a pair of house slippers, he took a right, tan wallpaper stretched out in a long hallway, and he turned a few corners until he reached his room. An elegant crane had been painted onto the shoji doors, and he stared at the figure of the bird, a gift from his grandfather for his tenth birthday.
A singular crane painted with white, black and red, stood against a red-orange sun with its head high and wings spread. People said they resembled good luck and longevity, Grandfather chose it to try and combat the bad luck their family had been cursed with.
So much for that superstition.
Yuuji slid the doors open and walked in, his futon and blankets were folded up neatly in the closet to keep the space tidy, on one side of the room a shelf had been installed to allow him to collect books, and offered a small space for his built in desk to reside for him to study on.
He wandered to the next pair of doors translucent in texture to allow light through, and revealed the garden that belonged solely to him.
Then he folded into a sezia on his deck.
Ryoumen Sukuna was too quiet.
So Yuuji closed his eyes, and listened to sound of the bamboo waterfall and running water. Leaves rustled with the wind, he took a deep breath in, and let it out as he focused on staying still. Being aware of everything around him. Not really certain what to do, he tried to will some sort of interaction. Though, even the concept of talking to someone in his mind made him feel silly.
What did he intend to accomplish?
Nothing happened, Yuuji admitted defeat and opened his eyes, calmer and more agitated at the same time.
He just wanted to get their first interaction over.
Maybe being patient was better, why did he want to rush it anyway? Sukuna constantly degraded his vessel, and refused to respect Yuuji’s existence, so perhaps he should be hoping it never happened at all.
He needed to get up and do something before he spiraled into his own thoughts.
Yuuji stood up and walked into his room, out to the hall and then headed to the only place he found peace.
The archery range.
A piece of the compound had been designated purposely for the Itadori clan to practice their archery. As many members likened toward the hobby, since their ancestors had first learned it thousands of years ago. Apparently, they were a branch off of a even more prestigious clan grandfather never revealed. Unfortunately, as their numbers dwindled, the Itadori lost most of their traditions. Gramps had been more than happy to teach him the ways, as his biological father never showed any interest.
Because of his height and strength, the Yumi was not as gigantic against his form. Unlike western bows, Yumi were asymmetrical, with the handle positioned about two thirds of the distance from the upper tip.
He counted the ‘tang’ of the bow string and the sound of arrows hitting targets, rather than contemplate Ryoumen Sukuna. Only until his back burned, and sweat dripped down his chin did he stop, and he blinked back to sharp awareness. The sky was dark, his first day was nearly finished.
Two more days until Gojo came for him.
Yuuji washed up, shoved his mouth with leftovers as a form of dinner then went back to his room.
He opened the shoji doors to the garden, dressed in a dark Yukuta, and stared at the rising moon.
Restlessness kept him awake. Grandfather, Cursed Spirits, Ryoumen Sukuna.
In the morning, he left to go and visit the morgue, where his grandfather had been scheduled to be cremated. The sun had barely risen in the sky when the owner came upon him leaning against the wall of the building, a black hoodie thrown over his head.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
Surprised by the suspicious tone, Yuuji lifted the hood to reveal his face, and the man faltered.
“I’m sorry for bothering you,” Yuuji offered as he pushed off from the wall. “I wake up early and found myself at loss for what to do with my time. My grandfather died and is on your list to be burned today, so I was here to wait until then.”
The owner let out a long breath and composed himself. “You sure gave me a fright, I thought you were some sort of delinquent.”
“I get that a lot.”
“Probably the dyed hair, if you kept it one color, people may not assume you’re going to cause trouble.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Yuuji never bothered to correct people about their assumptions about his hair, and this time was no different.
Thankfully, the man allowed him inside and Yuuji politely stood to the side as the lights were turned on. Rather than make him wait for the receptionist, the man waved him through a door, so Yuuji followed.
“My grandfather isn’t scheduled until midafternoon.”
“It’s fine.” The owner replied, a familiar scent of cleaning products wafted in Yuuji’s nose, reminiscent of the hospital. Though now he walked in a place that held the dead, compared to the one who tried to keep people alive. “I start early anyway, I don’t mind doing it now.”
“You have my gratitude…”
“Hashimoto Jiro.”
“Hashimoto-san. If it’s going to upset your clients, I really don’t mind waiting.”
Hashimoto peered at him, wrinkled face kind, and something in Yuuji’s chest clenched.
“How old are you?”
“Fifteen.”
“Your grandfather must have taught you well to speak so politely to your elders. What is your name?”
“Itadori Yuuji, Itadori Wasuke is my grandfather.”
“Itadori huh? Now I’m not as surprised, that man followed tradition far closer than most these days. I thought for sure we lost the last bit of the Itadori legacy in his death, but it seems I was wrong.”
Yuuji dipped his head. “I will try my best to represent my family in his place.”
Hashimoto nodded, then stopped at a pair of doors. A few chairs were placed along the sterile white walls, which he pointed toward as he spoke. “Sit here and I’ll start working on your grandfather, no one is allowed passed this point to honor everyone’s privacy.”
“Of course.”
Yuuji settled into a chair despite it being a bit too small, and stared at the wall across from him.
No music played, he couldn’t hear any movement through the doors.
He played with the Juzu on his left wrist, a double looped bracelet of prayers beads he inherited for his fifteenth birthday. Used specifically while beating a drum or during meditation, Yuuji wore it constantly after he received it to symbolize his choice of faith in both his family and Buddhism.
Buddhism appealed to him far more than any other choice after he was reincarnated.
About an hour later Hashimoto came out, and Yuuji accepted the urn. He took out his debit card and offered it.
“Payment.”
Hashimoto’s eyes widened, then the man nodded and fumbled a bit. “Of course, I have something you can use at our reception desk.”
Yuuji pressed the urn to his chest and kept himself stoic, once the transaction was done, he offered a polite bow in farewell.
“Thank you for your kindness, Hashimoto-san.”
Hashimoto rubbed his head, obviously confused by something that Yuujji didn’t bother to investigate. “No need to mention it, Itadori-kun, just take care of yourself.”
“Of course.”
No questions about his future or guardians, Yuuji appreciated being allowed to keep his secrets. Not many fifteen years old had enough money to pay for a service like this, Hashimoto probably assumed he used a family bank account.
He wondered what the man would think, if he learned how much money got spent so his grandfather’s body was burned a day earlier. He hated the thought of forcing gramps to stay in such an environment for so long. Even if that meant making canon change a bit, Gojo would have to find somewhere else to meet him.
At home, he set grandfather’s urn on the small shrine he built, and stared at the picture he picked out to frame.
Grandfather was smiling in this one as he held a small boy close, both with matching strawberry blonde hair, though Gramps had greyed a bit with age. Yuuji never truly got to hear his grandfather’s opinion on being forced to raise a child once again at his age. But he knew from observing him, that the responsibility aged Wasuke faster.
Strange to think that the man who raised him was burned to ash and shoved into an urn.
Yuuji completed the ritual his family preferred to help the dead pass on, then left quietly and went back to the archery range.
Two days.
On the third he packed.
Nothing of value would come with him to the school, and his bow was far too delicate and precious to try and bring along.
Maybe he’d find a replacement, for now he was confident in his hand-to-hand combat. This body was gifted in that sense, since nothing about how Kenjaku created him had changed. A few MMA and Judo classes had been perfect to learn proper techniques to take down opponents, which grandfather paid for happily as he grew up.
To avoid Gojo possibly ambushing him at the compound, Yuuji headed to the nearest park and sat on a bench to wait for the man.
Conversation flowed around him, and he watched people pass, catching small snippets of their life. Couples held hands, children laughed as they ran along the cobble stone path, and a pair of elderly men played Shogi, where around a dozen boards were available for the public to use as they wished.
None of these people had an inkling about Cursed Spirits, he envied their naivety.
Every so slightly the scent on the wind changed, and Yuuji raised his head, just as Gojo Satoru materialized directly next to him.
“You’ve been busy Yuuji-kun.”
Still, Yuuji jumped at his arrival, and Gojo grinned at him. His shock of white hair and large body catching attention as he spread out on the bench like a content cat. Yuuji moved his leg slightly to avoid them touching knees.
“I had things to finish up before I left.”
"You’ve decided to live."
“For the time being.” Yuuji smiled blandly. “I will consume all of Ryoumen Sukuna’s fingers, so that the world can be rid of him once and for all when they kill me.”
Gojo hummed and stared for a moment.
Yuuji kept his posture as grandfather taught him, even as the Sorcerer’s eyes made his skin prickle in unease.
“That’s no easy task Yuuji-kun, are you sure?”
“What choice do I have?”
“You could ask to die immediately, rather than go through the trouble of collecting the fingers. Why try so hard?”
Yuuji counted the Juzu beads around his wrist, and tracked a bird as it chirped in a tree nearby. Just like canon Yuuji, gramps told Yuuji to take care of others. While the request would always linger in the back of his mind, Yuuji did not base his decision off of it.
Gojo had a point about his choice being the most difficult, however Yuuji remained firm.
As Itadori Yuuji, his responsibility, his purpose was to eventually defeat Ryoumen Sukuna.
He had no other choice but this one.
Yuuji kept his face relaxed as he replied. “I made an oath to my grandfather to help others.” He practiced this response earlier to prepare himself, so the words flowed easily. “I’d rather be the one who accepted this burden, then force someone else to in my stead.”
“I see.”
What exactly, Yuuji never would know.
“I can’t exactly let you eat the finger in public, follow me.”
Yuuji nodded and swung his duffel bag over a shoulder, Gojo led him to one end of the park where a few cabs waited along the sidewalk. A black car caught his attention, and Gojo walked toward it.
A man with short brown hair and matching eyes bowed as they approached.
“Hello Gojo-san.”
“Yo Ichiji! Thanks for picking us up!”
Ichiji smiled, his eyes darted to look at Yuuji for a moment, and his skin paled.
Yuuji nodded in respect as Gojo completely ignored how uncomfortable the driver seemed. News passed fast it seemed, Yuuji had to get used to people fearing him. Not all too different from the judgment people cast because of his strange colored hair as he grew up.
They slipped into the car and Gojo leaned against the back seat, taking up nearly all of it.
“Jujutsu tech, sir?” Ichiji asked politely.
“Yep!”
Yuuji eyed Gojo for a moment, then turned to stare out the window.
Swallowing Sukuna’s finger at the school, where a barrier was erected sounded a lot more logical than the park, so he found no reason to complain.
The car rolled to a stop around an hour or so later, and Yuuji trailed his eyes along the path, to where a set of Tori gates stood amongst the trees. A few feet behind, a stone entryway extended out into a large wall that assumedly surrounded the whole school. Standing at the beginning of the walkway allowed him to only see the tops of the buildings.
“Don’t look so glum Yuuji! This will be your new home!”
Yuuji followed Gojo as the man started to walk forward at a fast pace, already having to increase his own due to their height difference. “Jujutsu High is a remodeled Buddhist temple?”
“Yep! To non-curse users it just appears to be an abandoned temple because of the barrier.”
“Would they be able to enter?”
“No, the one who maintains the barrier ensured that non-curse users lost any desire to enter, if they happened to get close.”
“Sounds like the person who created the barrier must be strong then.”
Gojo snorted. “You have no idea.”
Gojo stopped before they crossed the Tori gate, and turned to face Yuuji.
“Before you enter, lets go ahead and have you eat the finger. Just as a precaution.”
“Of course.”
The finger offered to him was just as disgusting as the first, a horrid stench wafted into Yuuji’s nose from where it sat in Gojo’s palm, and he eyed the sharp nail at the end. Imaging somehow, swallowing the finger the wrong way and having it puncture his throat.
Face remaining carefully blank, Yuuji reached out to the finger, as soon as his skin so much as touched the appendage, a shiver rolled down his spine.
Iron hit the back of this throat, hair stood up on end along his neck. For the first time he got to hold, to see, the cursed object that started the whole course of events in the future. He tried to imagine how large the hand had to be that the finger belonged to, no human, sorcerer or not, would be able to compare.
“Having second thoughts?”
Gojo’s voice rumbled, a pitch lower than the usual tone he used, and Yuuji noted the change.
If he said yes, would Gojo truly kill him?
He wanted to say yes.
“No.” Yuuji replied instead. “Just wondering how I swallowed this disgusting thing last time.”
“Beats me! You’re a real champ Yuuji-kun!”
Yuuji offered a humorless smile as he stared at the finger.
Silently he urged himself to get it over with. Gojo surely had limited time, and with his personality being so unpredictable, little patience to waste. He said he wanted to help people by consuming Sukuna’s fingers, so why was this so hard?
After all these years, why could he not be as selfless as Itadori Yuuji?
His chest twisted, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
He didn’t want to do this.
He shoved the finger in his mouth, and it slid down his throat, he blinked in shock. Sukuna’s finger tasted like wax, most likely thanks to the grave wax they had been encased in. Dry like chalk, but also tacky, he frowned.
Why had that been so eas-
Corpses spread out across the field, as far as he could see the Sorcerers had been strewn across the ground, entrails and various body parts turned the ground red. He bared his teeth in victory. Not a single heartbeat left, none had stood a chance against him, and why would they?
He was the strongest.
Hunger clawed in the back of his mind, the pathetic group had done nothing to satiate his appetite. His face fell back into a neutral expression as the Thrill waned, leaving his senses dull. They were all too weak, and honestly, a little boring.
Maybe if their leader saw what happened, they’d send someone strong after him.
Someone worthy to fight.
…
Yuuji blinked, and inhaled greedily, gasping as his lungs fought to regain the air he deprived them of. Iron filled his mouth and nose, like he drank a cup of blood and then bathed in it, the taste made him gag.
“Well, that was very interesting.”
Blinking through the tears, Yuuji wiped his mouth, trying to ignore the salvia strings, and focused on Gojo Satoru.
A image of ease, Gojo remained statuesque before the Tori gates.
“I felt him for a moment, then you took back over, much faster then last time. Tell me, did you have to fight to regain control?”
Yuuji straightened and finally found enough breath to answer. “I don’t think so, though I barely noticed he took over, to be honest.”
Perhaps a bit bold to say to the man that could kill him in seconds, Yuuji found himself unable to filter his response as he tried to make sense of what he just saw. A battlefield of some sort, with who he assumed had been Ryoumen Sukuna overlooking his conquest.
“All things considered, you reacted very well to the finger.” Gojo chirped. “Tell me, did your grandfather ever talk about your family lineage?”
“Only our traditions, not about if we have special talents, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Gojo hummed and turned around.
“Oh well! Follow me, I’ll lead you to our principal, he needs to talk to you.”
Yuuji tested his body as he followed behind, for once more interested something other then the Buddhist temple around him. Normally he’d be all over the architecture and sheer spiritual presence such a location offered.
Two fingers down, sanity still in check.
Yuuji raised a hand and clenched it, imagining the blood that had coated his body moments before in the vision.
Having such a episode was alarming, hopefully he didn’t have to worry about it.
In the manga Yuuji never had visions like that, at least he didn’t think so. Looking back on it, the time he spent in this current world truly had taken front stage. He barely remembered what he used to look like, and right now he found himself unbothered, what little energy he had to fear for the future had been sucked out by eating Sukuna’s finger.
All he wanted to do was sleep.
Grandfather taught him better, so he stayed composed and respectful as Gojo lead him to their destination and opened the large wooden doors. One of the main temples now just a empty Dojo where a man sat at the end.
“So, you are the one who wants to be a Sorcerer.”
Yuuji held back the urge to remind the man, he in fact had not truly volunteered for such a position. “That’s right.”
Dark sunglasses hid the principal’s expression.
“Why do you want to be one?”
Yuuji straightened, and slipped a willful expression on his face.
“I promised my grandfather…”
…
..
.