A very old soul finds herself in an unfamiliar world where she has no idea what's going on but damn it could these people please stop trying to exorcize her?
Character pictures in every chapter. Jujutsu Kaisen Fanfic.
#1 in JJK 11-15-22
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Satoru Gojō
Satoru Gojō had his eyes closed behind his black tinted glasses. His right leg bounced as he sat upright in an uncomfortable chair.
He tuned out the lecture from his principal. The man wouldn't be a principal for much longer anyway. His teacher, Masamichi, would be replacing him soon enough.
"—Grade 1 or not, you cannot just ignore orders!"
It wasn't like the lecture was directed at Satoru anyway.
After Satoru had saved the Jujutsu Sorcerer from the—from the—Curse? Satoru was hesitant to use that word. Its energy was too inhuman to be a Curse User, and it definitely wasn't a familiar face so it wasn't a Jujutsu Sorcerer—he and the Sorcerer were immediately pulled into the principal's office for lecturing.
It wasn't directed at Satoru—he was a child so he didn't "know better" according to the principal—so he didn't care to listen.
He had more pressing matters to think about.
First, and most importantly, was how exactly a Curse managed to touch him with his Limitless active. It shouldn't be possible. The only way around the Limitless Technique was to nullify Curse energy entirely, or...?
Or something. Satoru was certain the Curse hadn't negated his Cursed energy. His Limitless was still up, just... ignored.
Somehow.
Satoru knew his technique wasn't flawless–yet–it was still effective. Especially in areas Satoru was actively guarding like his face.
He didn't like not having an answer. Satoru Gojo was powerful. So powerful he was tipping the scales in the Jujutsu Society with his presence alone. He wasn't the epitome of strength–not yet–but he was damn close.
Finding a Special Grade Curse that was (seemingly) immune to his technique was unnerving.
It should be unnerving. Right? It would be common sense to be unsettled. Right?
He wasn't.
Anxious wasn't the right word Satoru felt.
Excited?
Maybe. Something closer to trepidation. Like he found something huge was coming and he had to wait for it.
A new puzzle, a new toy, a new prize.
He couldn't stop bouncing his leg.
"Toujours et toujours," the Curse whispered. It traced a thumb along his cheek.
His cheek tingled from where it had touched him.
It sounded like French, he thought. Toujour et toujour... what does that mean?
