Training with Gojo was like dancing with a god who never took anything seriously… until it mattered.
"Come on, Aiko. You call that a punch?" Gojo smirked as he caught her fist effortlessly, twirling her away like it was part of a waltz.
Aiko stumbled, gritting her teeth. "You're not even trying!"
"That's the point," he said with that same cocky grin. "I'm the strongest. You think cursed spirits care if you're trying? No. They eat hesitation for breakfast. Again."
She hated how good he looked when he was like this. Loose white shirt rolled to his elbows. Blindfold slightly shifted up, revealing a hint of his crystalline blue eyes—those eyes that seemed to see straight through her.
He pushed her to the limit every single day. Sometimes she cursed under her breath when he turned away, but other times—when he guided her hand with his, stood behind her to fix her stance, or gave her a rare, genuine compliment—her heart beat faster than it should.
He knew it too. The smug bastard.
After one sparring session, drenched in sweat, Gojo leaned against the wall, towel around his neck. "You're getting better, Aiko. Stronger." He tilted his head, watching her with something softer in his gaze. "I like strong women."
"Pervert," she muttered.
He chuckled. "Only when it comes to you."
---
On missions, Gojo was pure spectacle.
He'd walk into cursed zones like he owned them—arms in his pockets, whistling, surrounded by fear-soaked silence. The curses would lunge. He wouldn't flinch.
With a flick of his fingers or a lazy wave of his hand, they were erased. Gone. Dust.
"You guys need me too much," he'd say to the other sorcerers afterward, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder.
To Aiko, he was ridiculous. Arrogant. Childish. Impossible.
But he was also brilliant.
And when she watched him stand between her and danger, laughing in the face of monsters—she felt safe. Maybe for the first time in this strange, reincarnated life.
---
One mission changed everything.
They were meant to observe. Low-level curse. Easy.
But something went wrong.
The veil collapsed. Two special-grade curses erupted from the shadows, snarling like beasts. Screams filled the air as a student was thrown against the wall, another pinned by black vines. Blood sprayed across the ground.
Aiko froze—heart slamming in her chest, unable to breathe.
And then—
"Get behind me," Gojo said, stepping forward, his voice low and devoid of playfulness.
She'd never seen his face like that before.
Cold. Controlled. Deadly.
The curses attacked—one roaring toward them like a meteor.
Gojo raised a single hand.
Blue.
The explosion was instant. The curse disintegrated into nothing but ash and sound.
The second tried to retreat.
Gojo was faster.
He vanished, reappeared behind it—and in the blink of an eye, shattered its core.
Silence followed.
He turned, eyes glowing beneath his blindfold, and walked back toward her like nothing happened.
"You okay?" he asked casually, as if he hadn't just committed divine massacre.
Aiko nodded slowly, trembling. "You're... insane."
He smirked. "Told you. I'm the strongest."
---
That night, back at Jujutsu High, Aiko found him in the kitchen, trying—and failing—to cook.
Smoke billowed from the rice cooker. He fanned it dramatically, muttering, "It's not my fault. This thing's cursed."
She laughed despite herself. "Step aside. I'll cook."
He grinned and held up his hands. "Fine. You be the domestic goddess."
They ate together at the table under dim lighting, and for once, the mood was quiet.
Gojo leaned back, watching her stir her tea. "Do you ever miss your old life?"
Aiko paused. "Sometimes. But… I feel like it's fading. Like I'm losing pieces of who I was."
He nodded slowly. "That happens. Especially when you start making new memories that matter more."
She looked at him. "Do you ever feel alone?"
He didn't answer right away.
"When you're the strongest… everyone looks up. No one really looks at you." His voice dropped. "It gets lonely at the top."
That surprised her. She'd never seen him vulnerable. Not like this.
"You have people," she said softly. "You have me."
He looked at her. Really looked. "I know."
---
Later, they sat on the roof under the stars.
Gojo leaned back on his elbows, blindfold off now, his cerulean eyes shining brighter than the moon.
Aiko sat beside him, knees drawn to her chest. The wind played with her hair.
"You're different," he said quietly. "Most people flinch around me. You… challenge me."
She smiled. "Maybe I'm just stupid."
He chuckled. "No. You're brave. And you're beautiful."
She blinked.
"I noticed it the moment I saw you. Even before you awakened whatever power is inside you. You're... captivating."
Her heart pounded. She looked away, cheeks burning.
"You're not just drawn to me because I saved you, are you?" he asked gently.
"I…" She hesitated. "I think I've always been drawn to you. Even before this world. I feel like... I knew you. Or needed you."
Gojo reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together.
"Well, lucky for you," he whispered, lips brushing her ear, "you've got me now."
Her breath caught.
"I'm falling for you, Gojo."
"I already fell."
---
Later that night, alone in her room, Aiko closed her eyes.
Sleep was slow to come.
And when it did—she dreamed.
Whispers filled the dark. Strange, ancient voices.
"You are not what you seem…"
"She does not belong here…"
"She will awaken…"
Aiko stirred, caught in shadow and silence.
And somewhere far away… a new curse was born.