Cursed Currents | Gojo & Geto

六

┏━°⌜ 呪術廻戦 ⌟°━┓
6
CLANS
┗━°⌜ 呪術廻戦 ⌟°━┛

Five days later, the morning sun filters weakly through the heavy curtains of my room, casting muted patterns of light on the walls. I sit at my desk, surrounded by books and papers, trying to focus on my studies. The pages in front of me blur as I try to concentrate on the intricate details of barrier techniques. But my mind keeps wandering back to Uncle Ryuu's harsh words, and the constant pressure weighing down on me.

The silence in the room is broken by a sudden knock on the door. Before I can even respond, the door swings open. My heart skips a beat, and I instinctively turn around, my breath catching in my throat as I see my father standing in the doorway. His presence fills the room, and I immediately feel a knot of anxiety tighten in my chest.

I rise quickly from my seat, the chair scraping against the floor, and bow slightly, keeping my gaze lowered. I know better than to meet his eyes unless he permits it, and the last thing I want is to provoke him. My movements are deliberate, respectful, as I try to gauge his mood. The atmosphere is thick with unspoken tension, a heaviness that settles in my stomach.

He doesn't acknowledge my bow, nor does he offer any sort of greeting. His eyes, cold and assessing, sweep over me with a critical gaze. It's as if he's inspecting a soldier before battle, not his daughter. His expression remains unreadable, a mask of stern authority that I've known all my life. There's no warmth in his gaze, no sign of familial affection—just the cold, calculating scrutiny that has always made me feel small and insignificant.

The silence stretches between us, thick and uncomfortable. My heart pounds in my chest, and I can feel the blood rushing in my ears, but I keep my posture straight and my face neutral. I don't want to give him any reason to be displeased, not when the tension in the house has already been suffocating.

My father's eyes narrow as he continues to scrutinize me. He remains silent for a moment longer, then he shifts slightly, revealing a small, elegantly wrapped bag in his hand—one I hadn't noticed before. Without a word, he steps forward and thrusts the bag into my hands.

"It's the dress you'll wear tonight," he says curtly, his voice as cold as ever. "There's a meeting with the other clans, and you will be present."

I can't help the surge of anxiety that rises in my chest at his words. My mind races as I hold the bag, its weight suddenly feeling much heavier than it should. I gather the courage to ask, my voice small and hesitant, "What is the meeting about?"

His eyes snap to mine, narrowing dangerously, and for a second, I regret asking. He takes a slow step forward, his gaze piercing through me as if he's appraising whether my question is even worth answering.

"It's none of your concern," he finally replies, his tone dismissive, as if the very notion of me being involved in anything significant is laughable. His eyes rake over me again, filled with a cold disdain. "Your only job tonight is to behave perfectly. Do not embarrass this family."

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. I want to say more, to ask why I have to be there if it doesn't matter, but I know better. Any further questions would only invite his anger.

"And another thing," he continues, his voice lowering slightly, "the future head of the Gojo clan will be there. You'll do well to be your best self around him. The Kamo family needs to maintain a good relationship with him. He's considered the potential strongest sorcerer of our era."

There's something in his tone when he mentions Gojo, a mix of grudging respect and something else—resentment, perhaps? But that's quickly overshadowed by the scorn that returns to his voice as he looks at me, his lips curling into a sneer.