{rewrite of 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘈𝘸𝘢𝘺}
The day Gojo Satoru can deal with boredom in a healthy manner is the day hell freezes over and the sky turns green. In other words, never. This boredom driven escapade leads Satoru to an entirely new dimension incr...
Bored. Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored. Gojo was bored. So unbelievably bored. He had no missions, no students - his cute little students were already taking missions as a trio without the need of their sensei. Gojo did not pout when that news was revealed, he didn't - and nothing to do. A bored Satoru is a dangerous Satoru. Hollow Purple is proof enough of that.
Once again, a quiet lull in his usually busy schedule of hunting cursed spirits, contemplating the murder of old bastards, annoying Nanami and just being better than everyone, had Gojo just about ready to rip out his snowy white hair in frustration. Seriously could a curse or two not just pop up and wreak havoc somewhere? Was that too much to ask? It had been eight days and there had been no curse sightings worth his time or at least that's what the slimy old bastards are insisting on. Gojo can't say he believes them but he unfortunately does have to follow orders from time to time - especially after fighting tooth and nail for Yuji's temporary pardon - to ensure he had some level of. . . trust with the Higher Ups, a sort of 'you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours' deal. He was dying to do something. Anything. He just needed to do something time-consuming and distracting or he'd lose his mind.
He resolved to clean his attic which was full of old knick-knacks, books and heirlooms from the Gojo family compound - which he had not been to in over a decade since the massacre of his clan at the hands of the Zen'in clan. Too many memories there that Gojo did not want to deal with.
Regret was the first thing Gojo felt when he took a peek into the attic. It was so small yet there was so muchstuff and Gojo was half tempted to go back to the couch he had sprawled himself across in his earlier despair. Why did he pick the messiest part of the house to go through? Why didn't he pick the kitchen which was cleaned methodically all the time? But he was the Strongest so he could deal with this no bother. No bother at all.
Gojo rolled up his sleeves, popped a stick of gum in his mouth and got to work.
. . .
He found that it was a bother. A massive bother. Gojo had been tipping away at the rubbish heap he calls an attic for hours and he wasn't even half done. How in God's name did he manage to get so much stuff into his attic. It seemed to never end. His attic wasn't even that big. The hell?
And by God the sheer number of spiders crawling around the place was disturbing. The eight-legged bastards were everywhere. He'd managed to collect dozens on the top of his Infinity dome that just seemed content to stay there. Bastards.
