15

Nanami Kento was six years old when his older sister met Gojo Arata.

Their parents had both died when they were young. The siblings had been left in the care of their grandparents shortly thereafter, and while their grandparents had been kind while they lived, they were oftentimes… forgetful. Which in turn meant that Nanami Shizuka, being a good decade Kento's senior, naturally took it upon herself to shoulder many of the responsibilities that one might expect of a caretaker or a mother-figure instead.

Some days, Kento looks back on it all and wonders if Shizuka had married at such a shockingly young age so that there would finally be someone to take care of her, too.

… Thankfully, Gojo Arata was not a bad man. With him, his sister had been… happy.

Arata and Shizuka's meeting had been the result of a chance encounter, albeit not a particularly unique one. Sorcerers save civilians from curses all the time, every day, without anyone being the wiser. While Gojo Arata wasn't technically a sorcerer himself, the man had grown up in a sorcerer's clan… and his blurry eyesight meant that he'd managed to spot a suspiciously dark cloud hovering on an open balcony, and hastily pulled a pretty young girl back from walking underneath it just in time.

A flower pot had dropped down right in front of Shizuka, skimming her nose, shattering in a jagged mess on the sidewalk pavement. If Arata had been a second slower, it would've struck her head.

Kento would never forget the furious screech of that hideous spider-like curse, that chittering cacophony of screams and jeers that made his hair stand on end.

And that had been Nanami Kento's 'introduction' to the jujutsu world.

… Fairly tame, as far as these kinds of introductions are concerned. Arata had been quick to pull them away from the scene after that, and it hadn't taken long before there were Windows on the scene. The team of sharply-dressed men and women in business suits had set to work without a word, swiftly pulling down a Curtain and cordoning off the entire street with well-practiced efficiency.

Arata, having noticed that Kento was able to see the curse earlier, patiently took the time to explain things to the pair of siblings in the aftermath. Cursed spirits are responsible for the vast majority of unexplained cases of death and disappearances throughout the world.

Despite the severity of the topic, he and Shizuka had gotten along well. He had been impressed by Shizuka's composure and her determination to do right by her little brother, and Shizuka had been won over by the man's meticulousness and quiet concern even for mere strangers. And he had saved her. They'd exchanged contact information in the event that any other incidents came up, one thing led to another, and…

The rest was history, so to speak.

When Nanami Kento turned seven years old, his new brother-in-law quietly took him aside and told him that the world of curses was dangerous. That the decision to become a sorcerer was not one to make lightly. Even if Kento intended to become a sorcerer in the future, that would be a decision for him to make once he was older and aware of the consequences.

Nanami Shiki is seven this year.

… Shiki is seven years old, and she'd just killed a Grade One curse.

Kento wants to scream.

Unlike when he'd only been seven years old, Kento is aware of what a sorcerer's work entails, now. And he'd known that Shiki's newly-developed cursed eyes were a point of interest for the Gojo Clan, that this would mean she'd have no choice but to become a sorcerer in the future, but somehow he still hadn't thought– he hadn't expected–

When did this happen? How? Even though the Gojo Clan had already been training her in a sorcerer's skills… some part of him had foolishly thought that this day would come sometime in the distant future. It was only inevitable, given her cursed technique –her eyes– but he had hoped that there would be more time. If Kento could graduate and make a name for himself as a well-established sorcerer, then he would be able to make a case for Shiki's custody. He would support her and help her if she decided to be a sorcerer for herself once she was older, but–

But right now, Shiki is a seven year old child. And the Gojo Clan saw nothing wrong with sending her out to kill curses.

Part of Kento will always remember Shiki as she was before the unfortunate incident that had claimed the lives of both Nanami Shizuka and Nanami Arata. His dear sister and brother-in-law. Her parents. Shiki had always been a quiet girl even long before this accident, but she'd also been a sweet, caring girl. Ojichan, ojichan, she'd call him, tugging at his sleeve. Ken-jichan. Play with me?

… What did the Gojo Clan do to her, to turn her into someone who wouldn't bat an eye at killing a cursed god?

…

Kento still recalls the day when she was born. He recalls sitting in a sterile hallway, hands clasped together so tightly that his knuckles were white. His ears had been filled with the sound of Arata's restless pacing back and forth. Shizuka had been screaming, and–

It had been a difficult birth. The doctors had nearly proclaimed Shiki to be stillborn, even.

They'd been so careful taking care of that delicate, frail child in those early days. The girl had resembled less a newborn infant and more a lifeless doll in her cradle. Arata had tirelessly sought out doctor after doctor in one hospital after another. Shizuka had grown increasingly desperate, even resorting to visiting temples daily to fervently pray for her daughter–

Thankfully, Shiki's health had eventually taken a turn for the better. They'd all breathed in relief. Kento had been so glad to finally see a rosy flush of color enter her cheeks. And then the little child learned to sit up, to crawl, to smile and laugh, and… and…

And Kento doesn't know what to do anymore.

Shizuka and Arata are both dead. Finances had been tight and they'd been out looking for a new apartment, and… no one could have suspected that the entire building would collapse in on itself so suddenly, without any warning whatsoever. The leasing office had gone under from lawsuits. Windows were sent in to look for traces of foul play from curses in the aftermath, and miracle of miracles –Shiki had been dug out of the rubble bloody and unconscious.

But alive.

… Even though she'd proceeded to remain unconscious for an entire year afterwards. Unconscious, but alive, and Kento clung to that thread of hope with all his might.

Then, one day Shiki woke up again.

With cursed eyes.

… And everything started spiraling out of control from there.

Kento knows that his niece has a good head on her shoulders, despite her young age. He knows that she's awakened a powerful cursed technique. He knows that she'd just killed a cursed god.

But even so, every time Kento looks at Shiki he cannot help but recall the image of that too-pale, too-thin little girl sleeping in a hospital bed. It haunts him –terrifies him.

With both his sister and his brother-in-law gone, it's up to Kento to take care of her now, and… it's a monumental task that he's been failing quite miserably so far. If it weren't for Gojo Satoru being his upperclassman at Jujutsu High, Kento doubts that he even would've found Shiki, not until another several good months down the line, and…

He doesn't know what to do.

He doesn't know what to do.

Kento wants to protect her, but… what can he possibly do, against the uncompromising power and influence of the Gojo Clan? And even discounting that, when that cursed god had attacked them, it had been Shiki who'd neutralized its cursed technique.

It had been Shiki who'd smiled softly at him and said, "It'll be alright, Ken-jichan," and it had nearly broken his heart.

Shiki had turned away from him.

Then proceeded to kill a god.

… A god. His little niece had just –she'd just gone and killed a cursed god, a Grade One cursed spirit! Kento wasn't blind to the implications, of how the Gojo Clan would react to learning this, of what they would do–

Kento sucks in a deep, shuddering breath. He feels lightheaded. Dizzy.

"Are you alright?"

"I…"

No. He's not. Haibara is dead, and Shiki… Kento doesn't know what to do about Shiki anymore. He wants her to be safe, but there's no way that she'll remain safe, not after all of this. Not after she so effortlessly killed a Grade One curse, and he shudders to think what that would mean for her future.

Kento is aware of the types of missions that Gojo and Geto are sent on, as the school's only Special Grades. And at this rate, it's only a matter of time before Shiki is forced to follow in their footsteps.

He recalls once thinking, in an uncharitable moment of frustration, Why can't we just leave everything to them from now on?

The mental image of confident, unstoppable Gojo Satoru is suddenly replaced by Shiki. Calm and serene, with empty eyes that look out upon the world only to envision nothing but death.

… Suddenly, it's hard to swallow. To even breathe.

"Hey. Hey! Nanami, stay with me," Geto's voice sounds sharply next to his ear. "Are you… how are you feeling right now? Do I need to call Shoko?"

Kento shakes his head roughly. Nausea churns inside his stomach, stinging, and something burns in the back of his throat.

Between the Gojo Clan and the curses, it feels like he's losing Shiki, no matter how hard he tries to hold on to her. Because it's not enough, Kento finally realizes this now, and it's… terrifying. It's terrifying, what the Gojo Clan is turning her into.

Nanami Kento is terrified that one day he'll look at Shiki and find her to be completely, utterly unrecognizable.

What am I going to do?

.

.

Suguru keeps a careful hand on his pale-faced underclassman's back, watching the younger teenager carefully. Nanami is slowly getting his breath under control again and it doesn't look like he's about to hurl anymore, but there's no denying that haggard air about him. He looks gaunt. Tired.

Considering the absolute clusterfuck that was his last mission… Suguru isn't surprised.

The teenager clenches his jaw, carefully working to tamp down on his anger. Frustration burns inside him, at seeing his underclassman like this. Suguru has never seen Nanami look so defeated, and he…

… He'd never thought that one day, he would be the one carefully pulling a white sheet over the mutilated corpse of one of his fellow students, either.

Haibara is dead.

Haibara. Dead. The two words do not compute together, because Haibara is bright and cheerful and forever upbeat. Forever smiling. Nothing could ever put him down for long.

Seeing him so cold and still in death is… it's…

Wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong. This is all wrong. Everything is wrong.

If Nanami's niece hadn't spontaneously decided to drop in on Nanami's mission…then would Suguru be left staring at two corpses, instead of one?

He doesn't even want to think about it.

…

Ever since the failed mission with Amanai Riko… Suguru hasn't been able to get it out of his mind. Not the Sorcerer Killer, but the humans, those people from the Time Vessel Association who'd hired a killer to murder a young schoolgirl. For some reason, Suguru's mind keeps looping back to the scene he'd walked in on in that warehouse.

Satoru clutching Amanai's bloody corpse in his arms, with a blank, distant expression on his face. And, all around him, incessant applause.

They'd been smiling, Suguru recalls. Clapping. Because Amanai was dead, just like they'd wanted.

… Geto Suguru had always known that humans were imperfect. Bravery and cowardice, kindness and cruelty. You can't pick and choose what to save, because that's not how it works. A sorcerer fully dedicates themselves towards the noble cause of saving other lives. That's all.

The reason why jujutsu exists in the first place is to protect those who cannot use jujutsu. It is the duty of the strong to protect and shelter the weak.

And yet…

(Laughter. Applause. That damned applause–!)

Don't falter, he thinks to himself. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you chose to become a sorcerer, Suguru.

Exorcise, and ingest.

Exorcise, and ingest.

Exorcise, and ingest–

He recalls his recent conversation with Tsukumo, the only other Special Grade Sorcerer aside from him and Satoru. Suguru had confessed his thoughts to the woman. How it had felt that the worth of other humans, non-sorcerers, was shaky. Tremulous.

The preciousness of the weak, and the ugliness of the weak. He could neither bring himself to accept it, nor reject it.

… Part of his mind screams at him that it's wrong, that he's even hesitating over this at all. Life is precious. Life is precious, and so it should be protected. End of story. What is there for him to hesitate over?

(Applause, laughter, applause, laughter–)

The peace of the masses is built on the pain and blood of sorcerers.

… And Haibara's corpse had just been added to the pile. That's–

"Ken-jichan? Ken-jichan, are you–?"

Suguru startles, abruptly shaken out of his heavy thoughts by the sudden, unexpected sound of a childish voice. Blue eyes blink back at him, dark and abyssal. It's difficult to read emotion in cursed eyes, but Suguru has been around Satoru long enough to be familiar with reading subtle signs in facial expressions and body language; it's easy to pick up on the obvious surprise in little Shiki.

"Ah… hello, Geto-san," the young girl greets politely, complete with a short bow.

"Hello there yourself, Shiki-chan." It never fails to be a little disconcerting –Shiki's appearance is, quite literally, a miniaturized female version of Gojo Satoru. However, the two are also completely different in terms of their demeanors, hilariously enough.

After all, Satoru would never be caught with such a hesitant, quiet look on his face like the one that Shiki is currently portraying. The little girl bites her lip, glancing towards Nanami and–

Oh.

… That's right. Shiki had dropped in on Nanami's mission, and was also likely the only reason why Nanami came back alive at all. If the reports were true, she was the one who'd ultimately exorcised the cursed spirit in the end.

Suguru has no trouble believing that. This is the same girl that he and Satoru had found sitting in a pool of blood, holding a fucking decapitated head in her arms.

And what was it all for?

… Gojo Shiki is training to become a sorcerer, so she can one day take missions on her own and exorcise curses. Just like him and Satoru. But that's…

That's wrong. It's wrong, how can anyone not see it? The little girl is literally seven years old, and her clan is raising her to fight curses–!

And what was it all for?!

(Applause, laughter, applAUse, LauGhtER–)

At least Suguru had a choice, back when he made the decision to come to Jujutsu High.

Looking at Shiki like this… the little girl doesn't appear to be bothered in the least. Her expression is soft and concerned, but it's clear that she's concerned for Nanami and not herself. She's… she's acting like there's nothing wrong, and perhaps that's the most disturbing thing about it all. Even Satoru hadn't indicated that there was anything wrong with her situation, but–

Suguru is abruptly hit with the unpleasant reminder that the way Shiki is currently being treated by the Gojo Clan is probably a direct reflection of Satoru's own childhood.

… He's going to be sick.

…

Exorcism is an endless marathon. There is no finish line, and only one direction forward.

The path is paved in blood and lined with corpses.

…

… Something needs to change.

.

.

Gojo Daisaku had known that change was coming for a long time now, ever since the day Gojo Satoru was born.

Six Eyes. Limitless.

And Satoru certainly had not disappointed the myriad hopes placed upon him. The boy had swiftly proved himself to be a genius, a prodigy. He'd excelled in all of his lessons, and Muneyoshi had been so proud of his son, back in those days. The perfect heir, destined to lead the Gojo Clan forward into a new age and to ever-greater heights–

But that was before Satoru developed an, ah…. rebellious streak, to put it mildly.

… That was fine. Every child goes through their rebellious stage at some point. Only time would tell if this rebellious streak was temporary, or something that Satoru would carry through to the bitter end. Daisaku looked forward to seeing what his ultimate decision would be.

This did not mean that rebelliousness was a trait he intended to nurture in little Shiki, however.

(One Gojo Satoru was already more than enough.)

Unlike Satoru, Shiki had come as a completely unexpected surprise. Not unwelcome, by any means, but certainly unexpected.

A new ocular curse; now that was a rare occurrence. The last recorded instance of a new ocular curse surfacing in the clan's history dated back into the Muromachi Period some six hundred years ago. It had been a young man with eyes that allowed him to read the 'history' of cursed objects, similar to psychometry, in modern terms. This particular ability had been extremely useful for the clan's historical records and for cataloging unknown cursed tools, as well as some minor detective work.

The man in question had been a son of the main family. Retracing his family tree had yielded interesting results on the matrilineal side, however. His maternal grandmother had been a daughter from a branch family. A branch family that, after many struggles throughout the years, had eventually succeeded in distinguishing itself as a proper branch house and bestowed the name Tobiume.

There was a certain serendipity in the same bloodline once again manifesting a new ocular curse for the clan.

Perhaps it was time to arrange for a few Tobiume girls to be assiduously courted by children from the main family? Gojo Ima, mayhaps? Ima was still young and of suitable child-bearing age. A docile woman who obediently deferred to her superiors, and was capable of holding her tongue.

Granted, Ima had made several mistakes while caring for her own niece, but Daisaku was not entirely without pity. After all, those mistakes had been made due to the girl's overly-hasty desire to see her branch of the family rise to prominence once more. So if she was stripped of her status as branch head and relegated to a housewife position that suited her more, then, perhaps…

…

… Bah, look at him, plotting and planning away like this! Daisaku shakes his head and straightens back in his seat with a sigh.

No. Interfering like this is unnecessary, he reminds himself. The most he'll do is make an offhand suggestion on this matter, and leave it at that. An old fossil like him should learn to sit back and take on a guiding role, rather than continuing to dictate things. Let the children make their own decisions, and learn from their own mistakes. That's what it means to nurture the next generation.

Although, it would be a while yet before Shiki could be properly trusted to make her own decisions… this was nothing against the girl herself, of course. Merely that she was still young, only seven years old, and thus required competent oversight.

Admittedly, little Shiki seemed to require less direct oversight than most.

Frankly speaking, there was no doubt that she was a clever one. Precocious and sharp, if of few words. She reminded him strongly of Satoru, when Satoru was young… and Daisaku sincerely hoped to avoid falling over the same mistakes they'd made with Satoru in regards to Shiki this time around.

For example: They hadn't initially thought that Satoru's detached attitude would be a problem. The boy was a genius, so it was perfectly understandable that he would have trouble relating to others his own age, right? And he was the clan heir. So, in light of that it was only natural for someone of his position to see himself as above others. It spoke to his status, his superiority. He was the honored one, blessed with Six Eyes and Limitless.

… They were all fools. Fools, the whole lot of them.

Muneyoshi was the only one who had spoken up about it at the time, but no one had listened to his concerns. And now they were all paying for it, years later down the line. Daisaku privately suspects that Satoru wouldn't have any qualms with killing off any of his own elders, should it serve his own purposes. The boy held no sense of deference, of loyalty, of familial belonging –from all appearances, Satoru treated the Tokyo Jujutsu School like his home, rather than the Gojo Clan.

Was it any wonder that Gojo Satoru's strength was the only thing his clansmen truly trusted about him?

Gojo Shiki would not turn out like her cousin, not if Daisaku had anything to say about it. After realizing that Ima was the wrong person to act as family in the aftermath of the fiasco with the Kamo Clan, he had immediately responded to the situation by assigning the child a new caretaker. Gojo Kiyohira was a bit blunt and rough around the edges, but overall a very straightforward person. Quite unlike Ima, in that respect. The man was also a sorcerer and a skilled swordsman, so he would be someone who could advise Shiki in the future.

And, most importantly, Kiyohira was loyal.

… Daisaku knows that the last student didn't work out too well for the man. A pity, truly. That particular boy had been so talented, so eager to learn… and Kiyohira had been a little too indulgent of the child, perhaps.

After all, the young boy had died on his first pseudo-mission to exorcise a Semi-Grade Three curse. Their watcher had attempted to intervene, but to no avail. According to the reports, the child had panicked and literally dropped his sword right in front of the curse.

There wasn't really anything anyone could do about that, unfortunately.

Kiyohira had been highly reluctant to take on any students again after that incident. He'd grown stricter and harsher with the standards for his training, which had the inevitable result of scaring off any prospective disciples. And that was a shame, given his skills –the man wasn't growing any younger, and it would be for the best that he passed down his teachings soon, to ensure that his skills would remain within the clan.

There had been a bit of a rough start in the beginning with Shiki, but fortunately everything worked itself out in the end. It's always satisfying when plans work out as intended.

And as for Shiki herself…

If there had ever been any doubts regarding her potential, well. With the recent incident, all dissenters had finally been summarily silenced for good.

Killing a cursed god was no small feat. Even if it was a Grade One, a land god like that was always stronger in their own territory –and in their place of worship, that would make the cursed god a borderline if not outright Special Grade.

And Shiki had killed it, apparently without any effort. To have succeeded in such a difficult task at so young an age only spoke promising things of her future.

She really is like Satoru, isn't she?

Perhaps it was time to begin stepping up the intensity of her missions. Previously, Daisaku had been careful to only select missions to exorcise Grade Four curses and the like for her. Partially because of her young age and her inexperience, and partially to appease Kiyohira… but it had been made clear that she was ready for more. No, he would not hold the girl back from achieving her potential.

It was entirely possible that the future of the Gojo Clan would depend on it someday, after all, depending on how future events played out with Satoru-kun.

At the moment, however, the more concerning issue would be the matter regarding the girl's cursed technique. More specifically, the uncertainties surrounding it. Her innate technique… and her eyes.

It was always good when a powerful new technique surfaced within the clan, but the tricky thing was figuring out the details. Unlike Limitless and the Six Eyes, which had the advantage of both being extensively documented with the experiences of multiple users throughout the clan's history, Shiki's 'Fragility' and her 'Eyes of Severance' were completely unknown…

… Assuming those names were even accurate in the first place. Daisaku has his suspicions.

But there was no rush. Given the excitement of the last few days, it would be best for the little girl to have some time to herself, first. Spend a few afternoons with her young uncle, or play around with that fluffy cursed corpse doll she'd seemed to have developed a fondness for.

There was plenty of time for them to figure out the particulars of her innate cursed technique in the future, and help her properly develop it. He'd never imagined that her abilities would allow her to 'cut' and neutralize other cursed techniques –this was certainly a promising new avenue of development.

Daisaku has high hopes for Shiki. And with any luck, the clan wouldn't fail her, not like they'd inadvertently failed Gojo Satoru.

… Unlike a good few of his fellow cranky old fossils, at least Daisaku is capable of learning from his mistakes. He does not intend to repeat them.

.

.

Some days, Jihei wonders if it was a mistake. If Shiki had been allowed to remain with her young uncle, instead of being forcibly brought into the clan's fold…

… no. No, with eyes like that, becoming a sorcerer was an inevitability. But at least she would've had some semblance of a regular childhood.

Yet instead of quietly making arrangements for her niece and bribing the doctors to remain silent, Ima had instead promptly brought Shiki to the attention of the clan's elders. There really hadn't been any room for turning back after that.

What a pity, he thinks.

Arata would've hated it, he thinks.

No child should be forced on the path of a sorcerer, he thinks. Even if they're born with innate abilities that make them perfect for it. Even if they possess cursed blue eyes that set them apart from other mortals.

Just look at how Gojo Satoru turned out.

What if Arata's daughter went the same way? Given how things were currently proceeding, there's no doubt that she was headed in the same direction.

As Daisaku-sama's aide and assistant, Jihei is privy to most everything regarding Shiki's day-to-day activities. Daisaku-sama is the one nominally in charge of her, after all. And what Jihei sees is… concerning.

Daisaku-sama, in his infinite wisdom –or passing insanity– had decided to assign Gojo Kiyohira as a caretaker. That lumbering mountain of a man couldn't even take care of himself, and his track record in taking care of children… left much to be desired. Jihei didn't know what was more concerning; that Kiyohira actually seemed to be performing well as Shiki's teacher-caretaker, or that Shiki seemed to be perfectly fine living with someone like that.

The kid knows that it's not normal, right? It's not normal to be woken up at the crack of dawn for rigorous training, and it's not normal for a father-figure to bark at you like a drill sergeant. Under any other circumstances, Jihei would've suspected an abusive background being to blame, but he knows that Arata would never have done that to his daughter, which left only one remaining possibility:

There's something not right about Shiki. Of that, Jihei is certain.

… Just as there had always been something distinctly not right about Satoru-sama as well. Jihei would have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to miss the parallels between them. How there are voices within the clan staunchly insisting that their young ojou-sama is nothing like Satoru-sama is utterly beyond him.

Jihei can only pray that Shiki would not grow into a second coming of the esteemed clan heir. He doesn't think the Gojo Clan could survive two Gojo Satorus.

Given recent events, however, he suspects that those dissenting voices may have been permanently silenced.

Gojo Shiki had killed a Grade One cursed spirit. Granted, it had not been without assistance, but… the implications were staggering. And the expectations that the clan would have of the girl after this…

…

… Despite the wrongness, the unnatural oddities, the terrifying potential and talent that made his hair stand on end, Jihei didn't… he didn't dislike Shiki. How could he? She was Arata's daughter. And for all the superficial similarities that she shared with Satoru-sama, Satoru-sama did not have a young uncle who loved him and who he loved in turn. Seeing Shiki genuinely care for someone like that never failed to put a corner of Jihei's mind at ease, to make his heart soften and falter, and he… he…

Fuck, how was he supposed to say 'no' to a face like that?

Jihei has a cat at home. His beloved Mi-chan is a small Turkish Angora with soft white fur and bright blue eyes. A young kitten that enjoyed sunning itself beneath the windowsill, that would paw gently at him and–

He coughs roughly.

"Something wrong?"

"N-not at all, Daisaku-sama," Jihei immediately responds, inwardly sweating.

Gojo Shiki is not a cat. Obviously. Although her quietly pleased expression when she's happy somehow bizarrely reminds Jihei of Mi-chan pouncing on her favorite fish strips…

…

… Sometimes, Jihei wonders if Daisaku-sama knew what he was doing, when he'd arranged for Kiyohira and Jihei to be the ones accompanying Shiki on her preliminary missions. Kiyohira was an obvious choice; given the man's history, it only made sense that he would want to keep a closer eye on his protégé after becoming attached. And as for Jihei…

He might've grown apart from Arata as the years passed, but they'd still been friends, once upon a time. Maybe that was what Daisaku-sama had been banking on? … Who knows.

And Daisaku-sama… for all that Daisaku-sama claimed to have Shiki's best interests at heart, only a fool would take him at his word. He was an elder of the Gojo Clan. And as his assistant, Jihei had a front-row seat to the old man's machinations.

Relegating Shiki's care to Kiyohira when things didn't work out with Ima, for one. Taking advantage of the mess with the Kamo Clan to meet with several elders from the Kamo Clan, for another. Admittedly, it was unlikely that Daisaku-sama was the one who'd initially stirred the pot with the Kamo, but it hadn't stopped him from capitalizing on it. Planning out Shiki's lessons…

And wasn't it coincidental, how Shiki's lessons ranged from swordplay to flower arrangement and just so happened to lack any details on internal politics? Recognizing and subverting social manipulations?

Subtly arranging Shiki's meeting with Yuzuki-kun had been a gamble, but it was satisfying, when they'd ended up gravitating towards each other after Isao's funeral. Yuzuki was a good kid, if rather antisocial due to his sickly constitution; like Shiki, he could also use a friend. Win-win.

Daisaku-sama had given him a side-eye for it after receiving reports of the two children reading in the garden together, but he relented in the end. Jihei cautiously breathed a sigh of relief.

… It's still too early to say how things will turn out in the future, but Jihei is optimistic. And… the clan already has Gojo Satoru. Isn't that enough?

It would be nice if Arata's daughter could be left to live a normal life as a regular girl. But between her sheer potential and her current circumstances, the renewed attention on Shiki in wake of her feat in killing a cursed god…

Jihei can't protect her. He knows this. He doesn't have the strength, nor the influence.

But for what it's worth, he can certainly try, as best as he is able to. He owes Arata that much, at least.

.

.

Kiyohira's life is filled with regrets. With endless mistakes, one after another, despite his best attempts. So when Daisaku-sama had come to him with another potential student, demanding that he try–

Kiyohira wonders who the hell thought he would make a good teacher. Who in their right mind would trust him with a child?!

… It's a good thing that Jihei comes around as often as the other man does. He's the one making all the arrangements for food and clothes, books and supplies –if it had been Kiyohira dealing with all of this by himself, he has no doubt that he would be constantly overlooking or forgetting things for Shiki.

Shiki, who… was clearly missing a few screws in her head.

…

There's nothing wrong with missing a few screws, though. And, it's not like Kiyohira isn't missing a few screws himself.

… Fuck.

Why would anyone decide to toss him a child? Kiyohira is allergic to responsibility, and yet the heavens –thanks, Daisaku-sama– have somehow seen fit to give him a child to teach. To raise. How the fuck could anyone look at Kiyohira and go 'Ah, yes, that man would be an excellent fit for nurturing new talents for the next generation?'

The man wants to cringe and smack his head into a wall every time he recalls how spectacularly he'd botched his initial meeting with Shiki.

… It hadn't been entirely his fault. How could Kiyohira have possibly known that the elders would throw him an out-clan child to teach? One who hadn't completed any of the requisite basic training beforehand, even? And Daisaku-sama knew his history –how could the old fossil have possibly thought that giving him a talented child blessed with a powerful innate technique wouldn't be a recipe for disaster?

Kiyohira groans.

It was a good thing that Shiki wasn't one to hold grudges. To be perfectly honest, he still doesn't think the girl had ever even realized how severely Kiyohira had messed up with her, how much he'd wronged her with his… with everything, gods. And wasn't that a terrifying thought? That Kiyohira had nearly beaten her to death and she still couldn't see anything wrong with it?

(Circulating cursed energy though the body was an elementary technique that all sorcerers learned, in order to strengthen their baseline physique. Their resilience.

Shiki hadn't known how to properly circulate her cursed energy, when she'd shown up on his doorstep. And Kiyohira had no pity for children who tried to pluck at his heartstrings by showing a little blood.

… Gods, what a mess.)

Much as it rankled him to admit it, it had been a good thing when Satoru-sama intervened.

He still recalls the chill that had run down his spine, when the girl absently tugged at the clan heir's sleeve, and commented so mildly, so unconcernedly–

"Satoru-oniichan, please don't kill Kiyohira-sensei. Jihei-san said that he's the Gojo Clan's best swordsman. I still need him to teach me kendo."

That had been Kiyohira's first inkling of something wrong about the girl's mental state, and her own terrifying unawareness of it all.

Foolishly, he hadn't tried to do anything about it at the time. He'd convinced himself that he was imagining things. Made excuses and ignored it and continued overlooking it until he finally couldn't. Until he'd become anxious over her growing closeness with Satoru-sama, and Kiyohira knew that he would never be able to live with himself if he allowed her to blindly follow in the clan heir's footsteps.

He couldn't let her become another Gojo Satoru. He couldn't.

… But he might be too late already. Going by her recent performance against the cursed god, the way she'd easily volunteered herself to fight instead of run, then unhesitatingly drawn her sword–

My cursed technique makes it easy to kill, and I'm being trained on how to kill effectively.

It wasn't hard.

Kiyohira has only ever had experience in guiding children to mentally steel their minds and prepare themselves to kill. He's never had to scramble to stop them from killing. Considering his failure over the former, though…

… Is it bad if he prefers Shiki to struggle in restraining her instinct to kill, rather than plucking up the nerve for it?

Arghh, he's not cut out for this. Kiyohira is definitely not cut out for this teaching business –not for gentle-hearted, talented little boys, and not for prodigious little girls who were born killers.

He's not, he can't–!

Teach me.

You're… you're my teacher, aren't you?

…

Kiyohira sighs, a heavy sound, and finally straightens from where he's slumped at the table.

The room is empty. Shiki had wandered out in search of her young uncle earlier in the morning, and would come back in time for dinner. There's natto as a side dish today, and plenty of rice. She should be back early.

Aging floorboards creak noisily beneath his feet as he lumbers over to the doorway. Slowly, Kiyohira reaches out with a calloused hand and traces the deep grooves etched into the wooden frames.

2006 - 07 - 19

2006 - 10 - 21

His fingers dance upwards.

2007 - 02 - 08

2007 - 07 - 04

"Seven years old…" he mutters to himself. Kiyohira's hand pauses at the last date, the most recent height marker that he'd made for the stress-inducing little girl under his care. Then he turns to the other side of the doorway, where there are a similar set of lines and corresponding dates etched into the wood.

2004 - 12 - 20

Kiyohira glances between the two lines, clicking his tongue disapprovingly at the clear discrepancy in height. Weren't girls supposed to be taller than similarly-aged boys, in their younger years? Or is he misremembering something? … Fuck, he needs to check that child-raising book again, it's been awhile.

(No one had ever warned him that he'd need to study child-raising books when the clan told him to teach kendo. Who would've thought?)

"Maybe I should ask the kitchens for another serving of natto," he grumbles. Kids grow quicker when they eat more, right? "… Goddamnit, she needs to eat more than just rice and natto."

.

.

The first time Gojo Satoru met Shiki was in the hospital, back when she'd first gone missing and Nanami kicked up a whole ruckus about it.

Satoru didn't understand.

"Imagine if Suguru suddenly dropped off the face of the earth one day and no one could find him," was how Shoko had tried explaining it, her words a slow, even drawl. "Wouldn't you be worried?"

"Nah," Satoru had grinned, head tipping upwards as he precariously balanced back in his seat, "Suguru can take care of himself. He'd be back within the week. On the other hand, if it was Utahime who'd gone missing, then maybe we'd have to–"

"What are you implying? Show some respect for your seniors, you brat!"

He laughed.

Yeah. Satoru didn't get it at all.

But when he'd finally found Shiki in the hospital, it had been… hmm…

…

… how does he put this. A little weird, to be honest? This tiny slip of a little girl buried in the hospital bed sheets looked like she could be his sister, not Nanami's niece.

Satoru's first thought upon seeing her had actually been something along the lines of, Wow, I never knew my dad kept a mistress on the side like the Kamo Clan Head. Who would've thought?

No wonder Nanami had done a double take and given him such a strange look, the first time they'd met each other.

For the record, Gojo Satoru had never entertained any plans of picking up a kid and taking them under his wing. It just sorta… happened, with Shiki? She was an adorable kid, sorta like a mini marshmallow! And hey, Satoru wasn't about to turn down a free little sister, even if it came hand in hand with death glares from Nanami.

Cute.

He's not gonna lie, though. His initial interest in Shiki came entirely from her eyes… so in hindsight, it's no surprise that Nanami was so suspicious.

But that was only to be expected, wasn't it? Shiki was literally the only other person in his clan –in the entire jujutsu world in this age, probably– who had cursed eyes.

Cursed eyes, like me. She's like me!

Satoru was fascinated.

'Eyes of Severance?' Ha! More like Eyes of Death, really, going by the girl's stumbling explanation of her abilities. Satoru had been able to follow along with it, though, and his eyes had picked up some very interesting tidbits while he'd been at it.

Unlike the Six Eyes, which took in and processed vast amounts of surrounding information, Shiki's eyes were more like… the exact opposite. His little cousin's eyes focused on one very specific thing in particular –or not even that. How had she put it again?

Ah, right. Emptiness, she'd called it, and Satoru can certainly see why.

Death. Mortality.

Beginning and end.

Shiki's eyes allowed her to perceive the death of things. The elders had interpreted this as her being capable of observing the weak points where things were easily broken. And that was true enough, but it wasn't the complete truth. They were still missing the picture.

More than being able to see the imperfections inherent in everything around her, it would be more accurate to say that Shiki was actually visualizing its conceptual "end," in every sense of the word –and bringing it forth into reality.

What a scary technique.

It suits her so well!

Satoru is definitely looking forward to the day when the girl finally gets a handle on her innate technique, just like him with his Limitless and Six Eyes. She would definitely be a force to be reckoned with –not to say that she wasn't well on her way to it already.

Seven years old, and a Grade One curse under her belt. Satoru is proud. The rest of his clan, on the other hand, is divided between varying degrees of gleeful delight and sheer terror.

It's actually kind of hilarious.

What's also hilarious is that there's even a debate going on in the clan over whether or not Shiki is like him. Because, duh? Isn't it obvious?

They exist on similar wavelengths, the two of them. Shiki gets it. Really, for all that the girl was born outside the clan and had no contact with the jujutsu world prior to her little accident, there's no denying that she still has the right mindset for it. Satoru has no doubt that she's going to make a great sorcerer someday.

Like him!

He doesn't have her killer's instinct, but that's okay. Shiki doesn't quite grasp the detachedness that Satoru had been born with, either, and he's not holding it against her.

Relating to other people is hard. Caring about them is hard. Understanding them is a pain in the ass.

Being raised by the Gojo Clan hadn't exactly helped things along on that end. Satoru didn't think he'd truly connected to anyone in his life until he'd come to Tokyo Jujutsu High, and even then, it had been hard. An exercise in frustration –but worth it, in the end.

Does Nanami even realize how lucky he is that his little niece loves him? She doesn't even love Satoru!

… Of course, Satoru has no doubts that he'll be able to get his adorable little cousin to love him someday, but it's the principle of the thing here.

"Yo, Yaga-sensei!" He pokes his head into his teacher's office. Yaga-sensei looks up with a frown –yeah, okay, it doesn't look like he's in the best mood right now. Maybe because Haibara was dead? And that was pretty unfortunate; Haibara was a good kid. Satoru had liked him. "How do you feel about having Shiki over for a playdate with Panda?"

Yaga-sensei twitches, "A what?"

"A playdate," the white-haired teenager rocks back on his heels with an easy grin, "Y'know, letting kids play together. And doing, uh. Kid stuff."

His teacher levels him with a suspicious look. "Your clan is alright with it?"

Satoru's grin doesn't falter. "What they don't know won't hurt them."

"I received a message from Gojo Takatomi saying something along the lines of, 'Keep your cursed corpse doll experiments away from the blessed child,'" Yaga-sensei says flatly, unimpressed.

"Takatomi has no say over what Shiki does or does not do. It's Old Daisaku who's in charge of her," Satoru is equally unimpressed. The elders are back at it again already? Do they really have nothing better to do than scrutinize a seven year old kid's playmates? Really? "And even if Daisaku is against it, it doesn't matter. Shiki can play with whoever she wants."

"Hm. I see." After the scare with the last trial, Yaga-sensei has been understandably more cautious when it came to his dealings with the Gojo Clan. But if there's one thing that Satoru can count on about his teacher– "Well, if Panda agrees to it, then I don't see why not."

–it's that he's secretly a big ol' softie for kids, especially when it comes to his kids. Panda is lucky to have Yaga-sensei in his corner.

"Great!" Satoru claps his hands together. He doubts that Shiki is particularly bothered by that Grade One curse she'd killed, but she's been a little… dispirited. Because of Nanami, obviously. Nanami was upset, and so Shiki was upset.

How adorable.

What wasn't so adorable was Shiki quietly asking Satoru if Nanami was upset at her.

For what? Killing the Grade One curse? Or… for arriving too late to save Haibara?

Satoru would tear his little kouhai a new one, if the latter was actually the case. Nanami didn't seem like the ungrateful type, but if that wasn't the reason, then… why in the world was he upset?

He's alive, shouldn't he be happy? Shouldn't he be pleased that Shiki is proving capable of taking care of herself, that she's growing stronger?

Satoru doesn't get it.

Still, he'd suggested to Shiki to go on and find Nanami for a small chat to clear the air between them.

If Nanami made her cry again, then he'd beat him up for her, he decided. Mentally, that is. His little cousin would probably pout if he informed her that he was planning to toss her uncle around with Limitless a few times, no matter how gently he would be with it.

…

Shiki had seemed happy enough playing together with Panda the last time she'd been over at the school, so maybe the news of a playdate would cheer her up, even if her conversation with Nanami went sideways in the worst case scenario.

Satoru steps out of his teacher's office and ambles off to look for his cute little cousin.

.

.

…

.