The Awakening {Gojo & Sukuna x Reader.}

☾︎10☽︎

Y/N's POV

What the hell was that just now?

Did he really just tell me to match my energy to an owl? That's not training! That's nonsense! How am I supposed to do that when he didn't even bother explaining how? And this man calls himself a teacher? I feel sorry for his students. And for myself.

He threatened me, too. And I still don't know exactly what he's capable of. It's only been six days—how could I possibly trust a man I barely know? But then again... I did make that deal.

Crap.

I promised to follow his instructions. To do whatever he says. I was an idiot for agreeing to that, but without it, I'd be buried six feet under right now.

And knowing Gojo, he wasn't joking about killing me. I still remember the way he approached me that day, his presence alone screaming pure, merciless intent.

So, yeah. No choice.

Just like always.

From the tyrant father to the blindfolded sorcerer. Both of them controlling my life. Both of them deciding my fate.

I let out a dry laugh, rolling onto my side. "Heh, my life just keeps getting better!"

No point in complaining. At least I'm still breathing. I should focus. Train. Lower my energy like he told me.

Be the damn owl.

I press my fingers against my temples, concentrating on the same vibration I used to detect that bird. I focus. I breathe. I—

"It's too hard!"

The frustration bursts out of me as I flop back onto the mattress.

It's useless.

And besides, there's no way he'd actually do anything to me if I failed. He just wanted to scare me. If anything, this is my chance to test how far I can push him. If he tries something, I'll just use it as an excuse to break the deal and escape.

Ha. Genius. I'm a genius.

And with that thought, I roll over and surrender to sleep—

Or at least, I try to.

But my curiosity won't shut up. I want to learn. I want to understand what's happening to me.

And there's only one person who can explain it.

I sigh. Fine. I'll ask him.

But my body refuses to move, my muscles still sore from earlier. Guess I'll have to call him instead.

"GOJOOO!"

No response.

"GOJOOOOO!!"

Still nothing.

I open my mouth to yell again, but before I can— The door swings open.

And my soul leaves my body.

"Why are you screaming my name?"

A deep, lazy voice fills the room, accompanied by the sight of Gojo Satoru.

Shirtless.

Soaking wet.

With only a single towel wrapped around his waist.

Water drips from his damp white hair, rolling down his forehead, over his sharp jawline, and down his perfectly sculpted chest. Each droplet traces the ridges of his abs, trailing lower, lower—

And stopping right where the towel begins.

I swallow.

Holy.