HEART THIEF || JUJUTSU KAISEN

through hell and back.

Taichi radiated an old energy, an ancient melancholic aura that singled him out as a curse who was born in a different era. He seldom showed himself in public, and preferred quiet places that resonated with his bygone age.

Which was why he was so easy to find. With the lights firmly shut and not a single living soul dwelling behind the darkened windows, the museum loomed before the two boys like a colossal slumbering beast.

It was nearly midnight, late enough to ensure that no innocent would be caught in the crossfire. The barrier had already been cast, to conceal the incoming battle from exposing itself to the public, and above it all was a great ominous feeling, the calm before a storm.

Naoko was dressed in uniform for once. His top was fashioned as a short-sleeved hoodie that hugged his shoulders and biceps, a forearm guard covered his left arm and he wore archery gloves. When he turned his head to glance around the area, Gojo noticed the glint of his earring reflecting in the flickering streetlights.

He looked like what people called him, a shadow.

"I bet my right hand he already knows we're here." He shrugged his quiver onto his shoulders. His bow lay in wait, just inside his subspace, which he would draw if the circumstance called for it, but Taichi was like him in that he would refuse to show himself if a threat approached with their weapons drawn.

Naoko made a face. Actually, considering how things went with his uncle, he'd prefer if people ran at him with their knives and guns out. At least that way, he'd be able to see what was coming.

"Oh they definitely do." Gojo nodded. "Shall we ring the doorbell?"

Something was wrong between them. Gojo watched Naoko approach the ornate front doors and grip the handle like it was the only thing holding him up. His face was steeled and determined, his jaw set and his posture rigid, but his soul betrayed him.

Gojo could see it, Naoko's cursed energy engulfing him in a brilliant blue swath of light. It flickered with hesitation, jolted and danced like tongues of flame. Under most circumstances, it would be a steady burning flow, and bright as a dying star. But his was pale in colour, and uncertain.

He was so strong, and sure of his capabilities.

And yet...he hadn't seen the dark-haired boy like this in a very long time, not since that morning in the infirmary.

"What are you so scared of?"

Naoko flinched at the hand that held his upper arm. He relaxed suddenly, leaning his forehead against the cold door, and sighed.

"Have you ever gotten that really awful feeling of impending doom? Like shit's about to hit the fan and you just locked yourself in the room?" He murmured, eyes closed.

Gojo resisted the inappropriate urge to laugh. Naoko and his weird analogies never failed to humour him. "Yeah? Sometimes. What does he know?"

"Everything."

Then he pushed the door open. Even before crossing the threshold, they could feel the menacing aura of a special grade curse waiting for their greeting. They boys moved soundlessly across the tile floor, every instinct on high alert as Gojo swept the area with his gaze.

"There's no shame in backing out." He whispered in Naoko's ear. "I can handle it."

"Something tells me that I won't ever figure out Yaga's words unless I go through with this, so wait here." With an irritated scoff, Naoko shrugged him off and forged on by himself.

Taichi was close, he could feel it, a sickening hot breath that persistently exhaled down his neck. Everything was creepier at night, even more so inside a museum. Maybe it was because he unconsciously realized he was the only living being in this whole vast building. He walked past quiet portraits whose chilling gazes clung to his shadow and a taxidermy of a grizzly bear that might've made him wet himself if he was anyone else.