REARRANGED | Gojo Satoru (Jujutsu Kaisen) X Female Reader

Lucid Dream Arc - (3) Scrapped Ideas

'There'll be nothing left of you when he's done'. 'He'll never let you leave'.

Ieiri's ominous words echo in my skull, rattling around like bones in a box. Nothing left... My mind drifts to that nature Cursed Spirit, the one from the Shibuya Arc that he'd turned into a stain on the subway wall. And he'd done it with a manic smile. Right. As goofy and unimposing as he'd been playing at for most of his life, Gojo Satoru is as vicious as a shark during a feeding frenzy. One whiff of blood and bam! I curl into fetal position on the couch, holding onto the pillow for dear life.

I'm totally going to die here, I think, melancholy. I squirm a bit on the couch before getting restless. Then I start pacing the apartment again.

Scattered on the coffee table in front of me are a dozen or so pages filled with drawings and notes. They're as detailed as I can make them, without going back and reading a synopsis. I hadn't realized how much of the manga I'd forgotten about until I'd been forced to regurgitate it. Taking care of Mom the last few months had been a drain on my mental fortitude. And before that, I hadn't been that avid of a reader anyway, if I'm being honest. I casually enjoyed Jujutsu Kaisen, sure, but it's not one of my ride or die series. And wow, do I wish it had been when I'd had access to it.

At least I'd be better prepared.

Then again, nobody expects to suddenly wind up the protagonist of an Isekai; that shit just doesn't happen IRL.

Ieiri had gathered all of the confidential documents that Gojo 'borrowed' from the Jujutsu High archives before leaving, cursing the blue-eyed Sorcerer the whole time under her breath. I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her; he seems to be the one who needs babysitting, not me. Gojo's a loose cannon, a man who does whatever he pleases, consequences for others be damned. I'd seen it time and time in my own world, while his character on a page or a screen made mischief for no other reason than 'I can'. He's fickle, a troublemaker.

And he has complete control of my fate. I wish I were in better hands.

After imparting a new sense of dread into me, the doctor had left me alone in the apartment once more. Again, she didn't seem concerned about binding me in any way. So, I'm left free to wander to my heart's content. And wander, I do. Between finishing drying the bedspread and remaking the bed, I'd made my rounds of the apartment. Three or four times, just cataloguing everything I could find.

The main level is enormous, with a sprawling full-sized kitchen and living room. The kitchen is tasteful, if a bit dark. Dark wood cabinets, dark counters, dark tile. The only thing that brightens it are the inset lights under the overhead cabinetry and the pendant lights that dangle down over the island. The whole thing is modern, with sleek chrome appliances that actually talk; the dishwasher had whistled out a cheery 'good morning' before kicking on. And the microwave oven sings a digitized version of Moonlight Sonata to let you know when the food is done. I spend an hour or so poking and prodding all the machinery to see what I could get it to do or say.

The living room is similarly brooding, color-wise. The furniture is black leather, sleek and surprisingly plush to sit on. Gojo has a couch and two loveseats, though I doubt he ever has enough company to fill all the seating at once. The walnut coffee table in the center is practically large enough to be its own city-state. Only a lone plant pot occupies its space—quickly revealed upon closer examination to be a fake succulent. There's no television. Rather, large bookcases span the brickwork walls on either side. They stretch from floor to the ceiling of the open second story on one side, and there's a build-in swinging ladder to allow people to reach the topmost shelves. The far wall is nothing but a sea of windows, two stories tall and covered in translucent cream curtains.

The laundry space is just off the living room, underneath the loft. It's where the spiral staircase leading to the second floor is located. There's nothing of interest here, only a rack with a wad of bandages on it. They must be what he puts over his eyes, I note. I remember that he switches to the blindfold sometime between Jujutsu Kaisen 0 and season one, though I'm not sure of the exact timeline. Season one takes place in... 2018? Right? So that's three years from now.