Koi No Yokan (gojo x oc)

1. Welcome to Jujustu High

 April 2005

"It's so boring here," is my only thought. Every corner we turn looks exactly the same. The walls wooden and dull, rooms empty and unused.

"Kaede should adjust nicely here," Yaga, one of the only adults around, tells my father. My little sister walks along with us, clinging to my hand. When she's startled, she squeezes.

"It's so boring here."

"We have a range of first-grade sorcerers on the grounds. Meals, training halls, and dormitories will all be provided towards the East side of the school."

The summer air is still hot, burning the bridge of my nose. My clothes feel heavy. I catch my first glimpse of actual students down on the open field. Two brawling figures, running amongst curses. They seem to fester with no source, to move with no autonomy. I watch them intently. Dark and light haired figures traveling through monsters that seemed incapable of real harm. They're being controlled, there's no other way. Steered by the hands of one of those students. I find that interesting...mildly.

One of them seems to move flamboyantly, swinging limbs too long for their body. He's the quicker of the pair, the more daring.

But... I grow bored again.

My father is still speaking to Yaga Sensei, some proud story about his own time in Jujutsu High. He considers it the pinnacle of his sorcerer experience, which is why he insisted I go. Even if it meant leaving my siblings, Momoko and Tomiji, behind.

My sister digs her nails into my skin. "That hurts," I say.

She's looking up to something. A tousled head of white hair and opaque glasses. One of the students from the field. "That was fast," I think. The white of his shirt is dirtied from the fight, clinging to his skin from the sweat. Proudly, "Enjoy the show?"

My father is the first to speak. My father is always the first to speak. "Gojo Satoru!"

There's names we're told stories about as kids, names like Kamo, Zen'in, and Gojo. Clans that dominate over families like ours, and absorb the vast majority of Jujutsu wealth. They look down on people like me, even more on people like my siblings. I'm certain my father would want nothing more than to be one of them. To bask in the glory of a mere name. Gojo Satoru was one I'd heard many times before. The first Jujutsu to be born with the Six Eyes and Limitless in several centuries. Techniques that could level entire countries.

I can't see where he's looking behind the glasses. "In the flesh."

"This is my daughter." I feel a hand usher me closer. Gojo towers over me. My eyes barely level with his chin. "Uematsu Kaede."

"I've heard of you," he says. "The Time Manipulator with the Forward Sight."

My father's hand lands heavily on my shoulder. "She's still growing into her own Sight, but that's why I've brought her here. To become strong."

"I am strong." Quick, agile, born with a treasured technique only a sparing number of Uematsu possess. But I hold my tongue.

My father holds a hand out. "Uematsu Kunio. It's an honor to finally meet you, and to hear that you're aware of my family."

"Of course," Gojo says. "The most famous first grade sorcerer with second grade skills." When this makes me smile, I realize Gojo has been looking at me and not my father. I feel as if his expression follows mine, mimicking me in amusement. I force myself to school my face back into a bored one.

My father masks his emotions better than I do. He remains amicable, but at his distance.

"What about you?" Gojo leans his palms down onto his knees, leveling with Momoko. "Will you join the school?"