Your Life As A Tokyo Jujutsu High Background Student

Chapter 39 - Toward the fading light

You glanced down at your watch, the hands indicating just past 11 pm – not even midnight yet. But the chaos that had erupted in Shibuya already felt like it spanned an eternity. The entire district lay in smoldering ruins, buildings reduced to rubble and debris littering the streets.

And Gojo... you didn't even want to imagine what was happening to him right now inside that cursed object. It couldn't be anything close to comfortable. So much had already gone so horrifically wrong in so little time.

All around you, the sounds of destruction still echoed through – distant explosions, the shriek of rending metal, the ominous rumbles of collapse. But here on the rooftop of the tollgate building, under the shit ton of protective wards Yaga had cast, an eerie silence blanketed the air.

Your gaze drifted to Shoko, sitting beside you with her back against the concrete wall, one hand loosely cradling a lukewarm can of beer, the other holding a half-smoked cigarette. With each exhale, wispy tendrils of smoke curled around her pale features before dissipating. Her eyes were hooded, distant. She looked fragile. Like the barest breath could shatter her into fragments.

"So..." you began, watching the ember at the end of her cigarette flare brighter as she took a drag. "That's why you were so chill back then during that car chase, huh? You were never in any real danger. With that insane cursed technique of yours, you can kick anyone's ass just fine. Must be why you let me play bodyguard at all."

You allowed a wry chuckle to escape. "Shit, the Council would totally make you a special grade if they knew about your abilities." Sliding your eyes over to meet her weary gaze, you managed a lopsided smile. "Pretty unfair to the rest of us mere mortals, if you ask me."

A soft huff of laughter slipped past Shoko's lips as she took a sip of her beer, the corner of her mouth quirking upward in a sardonic half-smile. "I have no interest in rankings," she replied, her voice tinged with the exhaustion she surely felt down to her very core, but also carrying an undercurrent of amusement at your remarks.

"And for what it's worth..." She let her words trail off as she turned her head to face you more fully, her bloodshot eyes glinting with the faintest trace of warmth. "I like having you around, Spices."

Glancing back at the small shed where your most important people were resting – healed and safe thanks to Shoko's efforts – you exhaled a breath of relief. "Thank you, Ieiri-san. For everything you've done." Your words felt woefully inadequate, but you meant them with every fiber of your being.

Shoko simply shook her head, taking another drag of her cigarette before flicking away the ashes. "I'm only doing what needs to be done. My job." Her sharp gaze traveled over your disheveled, filthy appearance and she reached into the pocket of her jacket. "Here, clean yourself up a bit. You look like a curse yourself right now."

You caught the pack of wet wipes she tossed at you, barking out a harsh laugh. Shoko wasn't far off – after the events of this catastrophic night, you were literally covered in grime, soot, dirt, dried blood, and other unspeakable substances. With a shake of your head, you tore open the packet and did your best to wipe away the worst of the filth from your face and hands.

Once you had cleaned up as well as possible given the circumstances, you tossed the soiled wipes aside and stretched your arms over your head, relishing in the lack of lingering aches or pains. Shoko's cursed technique was no joke – She had replenished your depleted strength, completely fixing you up. Except for that damned cut Sukuna had left across your neck.

It stood out, a thin sliver of a scar that refused to fade no matter how much Shoko tried to heal it. Maybe the bastard had cursed it, a final "fuck you" for the mind game and backstabbing you had done to him. Who knew? In the grand scheme of things, it hardly mattered.