Malevolent harassment

Before Shoko could react, Naoya moved with practiced ease—not with force, but with the confidence of someone who always got what he wanted. His hand caught her wrist, spinning her just enough to press her back against the rough bark of the tree. He leaned in close, their bodies almost touching but not quite, his breath warm against her cheek.

"Tell me, Shoko," he murmured, voice low and teasing, "are you always this cold... or am I special?"

Shoko exhaled smoke directly into his face. "Neither. I just save my energy for people who matter."

"Does it bruise your ego to think someone might be immune to your so-called charm?"

Naoya's lips curved "Immunity implies resistance. You're not resisting, Shoko. You're just... waiting."

"For what?" She tapped ash onto the ground between them. "You're not nearly as unpredictable as you fancy yourself to be."

His fingers tightened fractionally. "Then predict this." In one fluid motion, he had her pinned against the gnarled oak, his body a hair's breadth from touching hers. "Do you want me to do malevolent things to you, or are you going to keep pretending?"

Shoko didn't flinch. Didn't blink. She looked at him with the same dispassionate curiosity she might reserve for a particularly stubborn corpse.

"Since when do you care what a woman thinks? That's new for you, Naoya."

Her gaze flicked between them. "I wonder," she murmured, "how small your world must be if you think this matters at all."

Naoya laughed—low, dark, dangerous. "That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting."

For a moment, the silence between them was a battlefield—his arrogance clashing with her cold indifference. Then, his free hand rose, tracing the line of her jaw with deceptive gentleness.

"You're right about one thing," he said, his breath ghosting over her lips. "Somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing you as just another commoner woman. Maybe it's lust. Maybe it's something else. Either way… it's inconvenient as hell."

Something sharp flashed in her eyes.

"Careful, Naoya. That almost sounded like respect."

"Call it professional curiosity." His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth. "We both know that's not all it is."

The cigarette between her fingers burned down to the filter, forgotten. "And you're not as invincible as you act," she countered. "But by all means - prove me wrong."

Naoya's smile turned razor-sharp. "Gladly."

When their lips met, it was less a kiss than a battle - teeth and tension and neither willing to yield. Shoko's hands came up, not to push him away, but to grip the front of his uniform with clinical precision, her nails digging in just enough to sting.

As suddenly as it began, she broke away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Hmm. Exactly as underwhelming as expected."

Naoya caught her wrist before she could leave. "Stop the cap. Your pulse is racing."

"Adrenaline," she corrected coolly. "The body's natural response to poor life choices."

"..."

His grip tightened. "I could make you say my name like a prayer."

Shoko smiled then—a slow, chilling thing that didn't reach her eyes.

"And I could slip you something that shuts down your nervous system in under thirty seconds."

She leaned in slightly, voice soft as silk and twice as lethal. "You'd still be breathing, technically. You just wouldn't be doing much else."

"…"

Naoya clicked his tongue, annoyed. "Tch."

Then he seized her again, this time with something more than aggression—something reckless and charged. His mouth crashed into hers, heated and demanding, his hands sliding over her body like he was trying to memorize it.

She didn't stop him.

Instead, her fingers found the edge of his collar, tugging him closer with sharp precision. The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't sweet. It was a challenge met and returned—teeth, breath, and the silent war of two people who refused to surrender.

When they finally pulled apart, barely breathing.

"Still not impressed," she whispered.

Naoya's eyes burned into hers. "Liar."

He watched her carefully, something sharp behind the smirk. "You don't seem too bothered by my lovely Hight level harassment,"

She paused, exhaling slowly, her expression unreadable.

"I wanted the experience, nothing more," she said flatly, adjusting the hem of her uniform. "It's just unfortunate that it had to be with a trash human being like you."

Naoya let out a soft, humourless laugh. "Bold words for someone speaking to the next heir of the legendary Zenin clan."

She started to walk away, but paused—just long enough to glance back at him over her shoulder.

"Don't take it personally, Naoya. Even bacteria have a role in the ecosystem."

And then she was gone, her steps silent, leaving behind only the chill in the air and the taste of something unfinished.

"Say what you want, Shoko. You'll remember me the next time you're alone."

He turned the other way, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

…

The next day, Gojo, Geto, and Naoya were walking together, leaving Jujutsu High. The sun was high, the path ahead quiet—until Gojo, out of nowhere, blurted out a question.

"What if the Star Plasma Vessel refuses to assimilate?"

"Then the assimilation's off!" Gojo declared dramatically, striking a pose.

Geto let out a short laugh. "Are you sure about that?"

"Huh?" Gojo blinked.

"It might mean fighting Tengen-sama, you know," Geto continued, his tone half-serious.

Gojo smirked. "You scared?"

He shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. "It's fine. It'll all work out somehow. We are the strongest, after all."

Then Geto turned to Naoya. "What do you think, Naoya?"

Naoya didn't answer immediately. He glanced at Gojo, something unreadable flickering in his gaze.

"Her death serves a purpose," he said finally, voice calm. "A very big one."

Geto's smile faded, replaced by a slight frown. "She's just a child. Are you heartless, Naoya?"

Naoya's gaze didn't waver. "Maybe who knows. Or maybe I just understand that some sacrifices… echo louder than others."

Gojo narrowed his eyes slightly, watching him. "You talk like you've already seen it happen."

Naoya turned, starting to walk ahead. "Let's just say—I believe in cause and effect. Strong catalysts create stronger outcomes."

Geto glanced at Gojo, eyebrows raised. "He's being cryptic again."

Gojo chuckled, but there was a sliver of unease beneath it. "Tch. He's always like this."