So No Head?

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THIS who writing the fanfic?? bro y'all are COOKED

heyyy kinda informal to do this but y'all know reader is black in the book right? like, I've BEEN imagining her black but I forgot to throw that out there

I do that with all my books cuz i personally don't feel represented enough.

besides that cheers!

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You sat down at a table at an outdoor cafe. It was a slow day, so you were simply waiting on Gojo to arrive with a table to yourself. It sucked being a curse when people would sit on you nonstop, but this was a nice day to you.

Grabbing a straw, you took off the wrap and decided to make spitballs out of boredom. Almost immediately, the action took you back to a memory from long ago.

-Flashback-

“Nabuo, old friend!” You opened your arms in greeting as you walked into the blacksmith's home.

Dirty-faced Nabuo looked back, laughing as he realized it was you who intruded. “There she is, you woman.” He sighed, throwing his big arms around you and crushing you into a loving hug.

You laughed with him, squeezing him just as tight before he let go of you. “How's my boy?” You brushed off the smears on your kimono, remembering Nabuo had just finished smithing.

He pointed his bottom lip over to the window, where a little Aoi sat. You walked over to your son, noticing a hollowed bamboo stalk to his lips as his eyes were searching the townspeople. He had a few balls of ammo by his side, ready for action.

“Aoi.” You huffed, the sudden break of silence making your son jump. He looked back at you, eyes wide with surprise but no guilt.

You raised a brow, “You're making spitballs? Why?” You knew you didn't raise a bully, so what was this?

Aoi instantly went into it, “I was walking through the town when I heard one of the old men talking about Ahma.” His face morphed into one of anger, “He said he was gonna catch her alone soon, Mama.”

Aoi loved all of his sisters dearly, but he definitely didn't play about his twin sister, Ahma. He didn't have many friends, because most of the boys his age would try picking on his sisters, and he’d end up fighting said boys over it.

You kneeled down beside him, turning him to face the window as you infused your cursed energy into the makeshift spitballs he had. “I don't condone this behavior.” Aoi was about to open his mouth to argue before you continued, “When you aim, make sure you point slightly above the intended target. If he's moving, aim at where he will be, not where he is, got it?”

Though stunned, Aoi smiled, “Yes Ma'am!” He nodded while he looked out the window. His grip on his bamboo straw tightened, “That's him, Mama “ He spoke low, his voice trembling with hate.

You followed his gaze, finding an old man that didn't seem to even hide the fact he was a creep. He tried to grab at a young girl's wrist, but she pulled back and ran off before he could do anything.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Feb 29 ⏰

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