Concern and Control | Satoru Gojo x Reader

Chapter 19: Echoes of the Past

-The Kid LAROI - THE LINE (feat. d4vd)-
01:43 ━━━━●───── 02:32
⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻

You will never forget the day you met him. It may have been the best day of your life. It may have been the worst day of your life. Maybe neither. Maybe both.

****

You stood alone in a deserted warehouse. Wind whistled through the broken windows. Light flickered. A grotesque creature crouched a few meters away. It had feathers, like slick, oily shadows, constantly moving, and long, twisted, cruelly sharp claws.

It looked terrible. It looked beautiful.

You didn't care. Never cared. Never cared what they looked like. They were evil. That was all you needed to know. All you were ever given.

The creature turned towards you, as if it had just become aware of your presence. It opened its maw and let out a shriek that was far from human.

You steadied your breath, focusing on controlling your cursed energy. Admittedly, manipulating cursed energy wasn't your forte, but in this moment, it wasn't your main concern. The only thing you needed—ever needed—was the dagger strapped to your waist. Your father's gift.

The creature lunged. You drew the dagger with practiced ease, its familiar weight a soothing presence in your hand. You positioned yourself, didn't flinch or hesitate. "Come here," you said, then ran towards it.

In the last second before impact, you crouched down on the ground and slid underneath the curse to its back. The curse collapsed with the wall. The impact sent shockwaves through the warehouse, causing debris to fall from the ceiling. You turned, dagger in hand, ready to end its life.

But it was faster. The curse twisted its form, narrowly dodging your attack. It reached for your arm, seizing you with a terrifyingly strong grip. The dagger fell to the ground. You pushed with your legs against it as it bore you down into the cold ground. It did not budge.

Panic surged through your veins. Red eyes locked onto you. Its iron grip tightened—threatened to shatter your bones.

Frantically, you scanned your surroundings for a weapon. A shard of metal lay on the ground nearby. You snatched it up. This will do.

With all the strength you could muster, you hurled the improvised weapon at the curse, aiming straight for its eyes. The curse recoiled. It momentarily loosened its grip on your arm—just enough for you to escape. Grabbing the dagger, you lunged at the curse.

The curse twisted away. Your strike only grazed.

Oh Shit.

It slammed you backward, propelling you several meters into a rusted warehouse shelf. The shelf groaned under the impact, showering you with a cascade of dust and debris. The world seemed to blur for a second.

The metal of the shelf pierced your back—slicing through your flesh. Blood oozed from the wound. You winced. The sweet taste of iron filled your mouth. But there was no time to assess its depth or severity. You had to press on.

You forced yourself up, gritting your teeth against the pain. Adrenaline coursed through you.

The curse came at you once more. Its movements unnaturally quick. In your years of battling evil creatures, you had seen your share of curses. But this one was different. It twisted. Crimson eyes tracking your every move. Then it lunged. Claws slicing through the air.