𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 → jjk x m! reader

04. | funky galileo.

CHAPTER FOUR;
a lovely(?) outing
chapter title taken from the song by: sure sure

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The large property owned by the Zenin clan was like a maze to outsiders. A net of several interconnected buildings that housed numerous members of the clan, including spaces for meetings and—most importantly—training.

Its labyrinth-like structure is why [Y/n] had to usually be escorted inside, the clan's courtesy so that the [L/n] heir wouldn't be lost in the estate. Or maybe to make sure he doesn't wander off to the more dangerous side of the estate.

Naoya sat beside him as usual in their meeting room, his nasal voice rambling on and on, mostly about his ever-growing skills. An annoyance, but truly a welcomed one. [Y/n] would rather listen to Naoya's ramblings any day than hear his own grandfather's sinister maundering.

His grandfather.

He shivered just thinking of him, something festered at the back of his head. The man's image was like a centipede crawling inside his spine.

[Y/n] shook his head, and promptly returned his mind to listen to Naoya. The boy's cursed technique had improved drastically since they last met. Of course with that, his arrogance increased drastically as well.

"How does your innate technique work, [Y/n]? Why are you [L/n]'s so secretive regarding this?" Naoya groaned like the child he was.

[Y/n] could only sigh in return, "It's my family's orders. I can't tell you anything about my cursed technique yet." He pressed his lips together tightly before continuing, "..Well, maybe I'll tell you if you can beat me in hand-to-hand combat."

"Ugh, that's just your excuse to beat me up, huh?"

[Y/n] laughed quietly. "Oh my, I've been found out," he snickered.

Naoya scrunched his eyebrows to a frown. "Just wait. I'll catch up to you in hand-to-hand combat soon enough. Don't come crying to me when you're beaten to a pulp," he said firmly, a smug grin on his face.

The [h/c] haired boy rolled his eyes, and did his best to not throw another book at the other.

"You'll get in big trouble someday with that personality of yours, Naoya."

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It was an easy thing, to find the one called Gojo Satoru.

Wherever he goes, one can't just simply walk away and not glance over at such an ethereal figure.

His figure stood at the street corner, a vision that seemed to have materialized from another realm. The sun's rays, filtering through the skyscrapers, cast a soft glow upon his features.

Gojo Satoru, with his fluffy white hair and sunglasses, exuded an air of charisma that set him apart from the ordinary world around him. [Y/n] couldn't help but intensely stare at him from afar.

He doesn't understand why Gojo wanted to get close to him.

Powerful and cold, that's what he thought his upperclassman would be. Gojo Satoru was someone from the Gojo clan after all.

[Y/n] was curious of him even before he entered Jujutsu High. Before [Y/n] met him, mentions of his name would always loom over the room, carrying a stillness akin to a ghost.

His birth caused a shift in the balance. His bounty has been placed upon him ever since. His two cursed techniques made him the face of the clan.

Gojo Satoru—strongest sorcerer alive. What a burden to bear, always being at the top. Always the one being relied on.