Bound In Love's Curse [Gojo Satoru x Female Readers]

123 ~ Hundred And Twenty-Three

Disclaimer: This chapter contains references to physical abuse, which may be triggering for some readers. Readers' discretion is advised.

***

"Alright," Shoko began, her voice calm and impassive. "Before we get into it, I need to ask—how comfortable are you with seeing photos of Y/N's... experiment?"

The reaction was instant. Gojo's entire posture stiffened, white brows furrowing beneath his blindfold. Though his expression was hidden, the tension in his frame and the way his lips pressed into a thin line said it all.

"Absolutely not." His voice was clipped, cold. "You're not seriously planning on showing us pictures of her body, are you? Besides, that's something that needs Y/N's consent."

"I agree," Nanami chimed in, his usually composed tone laced with a rare edge. His concern mirrored Gojo's—this wasn't something to be taken lightly.

"Relax, you two," Utahime interjected, quick to step in on Shoko's behalf. "She's not talking about showing you anything inappropriate. It's just... well, given your relationship with Y/N, you might be more sensitive about it. And even if it's not private, it's still her body."

Gojo didn't respond immediately.

His headache was already building, and he could feel the pressure behind his eyes. With a quiet sigh, he reached up and tugged off his blindfold, rubbing at his temples before moving to sit on the armrest of the couch—deliberately distancing himself from Utahime, but close enough to the conversation.

"I get it," he conceded, but the smirk he gave was hollow, more a grimace than anything else.

The idea of displaying and seeing pictures of you—even if it was just your hands, legs, or any part of you—made his skin crawl. He hated the thought of it. And he knew you would too. But you weren't here, so the decision fell on him.

"I'd rather we skip that part. Can't you just brief us without the pictures?" His tone was firm, but there was a hint of pleading beneath the usual cocky façade. He didn't want this. Not for you, not for himself.

Shoko nodded, understanding in her eyes. "We can. But there's something I'd like you all to see. It's important. Just in case any of you have come across something similar."

Gojo's gaze narrowed. "Like what?"

"When..." Shoko paused, which wasn't like her. Normally, nothing made her uncomfortable. But if she was hesitating, then it had to be serious. "Whenever you were with Y/N..." Her voice was steady, but she avoided their eyes. "Did you notice anything strange? Something that didn't seem right? Scars, marks... anything out of the ordinary?"

Gojo's brow furrowed, realizing why she was hesitating. She was asking about those intimate moments he'd shared with you—the times you were together.

"Nothing," he responded, his tone firm and without a shred of doubt. Your skin had been flawless, smooth. He knew this because he'd been close to you, every inch. He would've noticed if anything was out of place. He'd know.

Utahime didn't seem convinced. "How would you even know?" she challenged, her voice holding a trace of annoyance.

Gojo's lips twitched into a smirk, but there was no humor in it. "I've seen it all, that's how. I even bathed Y/N myself, so yeah, I would know."

Both Utahime and Nanami looked visibly surprised, though Gojo didn't seem fazed by their reactions.

The idea of him personally bathing you—something so intimate—was unbelievable to them. Especially since he was someone so accustomed to having others handle minor tasks for him.

Shoko, however, remained calm. She pushed on, undeterred by the shock that had overtaken the room. "Okay... then I think you need to see this." Her voice was steady as she reached into her bag, avoiding Utahime's lingering gaze.

But Utahime wasn't letting it go. "Hold on." Her eyes narrowed as she turned back to the strongest. "If you've already seen everything, why were you so weird about Y/N knowing you had her... underwear?"

For a split second, Gojo froze before he managed a casual shrug.

"What? Gojo did what?" Nanami quirked an incredulous brow.

Shoko stepped in quickly. "That's a story for another time, Nanami."

The blonde sorcerer didn't push further, deciding whatever Gojo did in his personal life wasn't something that concerned him. Still, he eyed Gojo cautiously, unsure of where this was leading.

"She was mad because of the bite mark," he muttered, almost sulking now. "It was from... well, you know, the period thing."

Shoko raised a brow too, Utahime looked puzzled, and Nanami stayed impassive as usual. It was Shoko who pieced everything together. "You mean the time Y/N bit you because she mistook you for a snack and you didn't heal yourself with reverse curse technique?"

"Yeah. That."

Shoko simply nodded, clearly uninterested in prolonging that particular conversation. "Right, well, moving on."

Utahime and Nanami exchanged confused glances, still clearly in the dark about some of Gojo's more personal moments, but they didn't press. Instead, Shoko steered the conversation back to the more pressing matter. "Let's get back to the issue at hand."

"Alright then." The three of them agreed almost in unison—Utahime, Nanami, and even Gojo, who seemed especially relieved that they were dropping the previous matter.

"I'm asking for a reason, Satoru," Shoko resumed, her voice growing more serious. "There's one thing that's been nagging at me this whole time."

Gojo tilted his head slightly, frowning. "And what is that?"

Shoko's eyes narrowed, her voice thoughtful, almost absent. "The basics. Back to the basics." She paused for a moment before asking the question that seemed far too simple, given the context. "How are curses created?"

It was a question they all knew the answer to, yet Gojo decided to humor her, as he was technically the sensei in the room. Well, aside from Utahime. "There's more than one way, but the most well-known is that curses are born from non-sorcerers. Negative emotions—fear, anger, sadness—build up like sediment until a cursed spirit takes form."

Shoko nodded. "Exactly. But jujutsu sorcerers don't leak negative emotions, at least not like non-sorcerers do. Negative emotions are the very foundation of our cursed energy, so we process them differently."

"Yes, that's true." he confirmed, though Nanami arched an eyebrow, sensing something deeper. "What's your point?"

"The point," Shoko continued, her voice more measured now, "is that things don't add up." She set the folder she had been carrying onto the table and flipped it open. "Remember when we inspected Y/N's basement? The curses you exorcised were born from prolonged trauma, trauma that she endured before awakening her abilities as a sorcerer."

Gojo nodded slowly, his gaze sharpening. He had a feeling he knew where Shoko was heading with this.

"So why were assassins sent after her? Why was there a target on Y/N and her family?"

"Mei Mei's intel pointed to a forbidden curse technique," Nanami chimed in, his tone neutral but curious. Of course, he too knew about Mei Mei's intel.

He was always thorough, always prepared. If he was meant to act as your escort during Gojo's absences, knowing the specifics was part of the job. The basics weren't something he could overlook.

Shoko's lips curved into a faint smile. "Exactly. But think about it—if Y/N truly possessed a forbidden technique, she would've been capable of at least some level of cursed energy manipulation, right? Meaning—"

"She shouldn't have been able to generate those curses in the first place," Gojo finished her thought, his voice grim.

Shoko nodded, clearly pleased that he had caught on. Nanami, too, seemed to be piecing it together, his expression thoughtful. "Precisely."

Gojo exhaled, his tone more resigned than frustrated. "You found something, didn't you?"

Without saying a word, Shoko flipped through the folder until she found the photograph she was looking for. She slid it onto the table for everyone to see. The image depicted what appeared to be a talisman—or something akin to one. The pattern was unfamiliar and disturbing, etched or burned into what seemed to be the skin, likely the back.

"I did some digging," Shoko explained, her tone growing darker. "What you're seeing is an advanced, modified seal—a talisman, but not your regular paper one. No, this one was embedded into Y/N's skin, designed to suppress any cursed energy manipulation entirely. Likely to keep her from accessing her curse technique, whatever it might be. That's why the experiments and trauma led to the creation of those curses. The one you saw in that basement."

Gojo's eyes narrowed, tension radiating off him as he stared at the photo. Nanami, though composed, visibly clenched his fists at the revelation.

"Then what was the motive? Why go through all this? Seal her abilities and torture her?" His voice carried a weight of disbelief, confusion still gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. And by the looks of it, no one else seemed to get it either.

Shoko's tone, however, remained as level as ever. "My guess," she said, almost as if stating the obvious, "is that the one who sealed her abilities and the one who conducted the experiments weren't the same person."

That single sentence was enough for everything to click in Gojo's mind. His eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me... Ryusaki L/N? He's the one who put her through that hell, right? Subjected her to the trauma just to lift the seal? He wanted to unearth whatever cursed technique she had buried. Is that what you're getting at?"

Shoko gave a small, nonchalant nod. "Exactly. Whether Y/N was a willing participant or not? That's unclear. But here's what I found out... they succeeded."

"How?"

The brunette paused, dragging out the suspense in a way that only made the tension in the room snap tighter. "They peeled off the entire area where the seal was embedded. Removed it completely. And according to the reports, they didn't use anesthesia. The logic being, of course, that the more pain she endured, the more likely she'd awaken her abilities."

The strongest sorcerer froze, his mind going blank for a split second before a flash of rage took over. "What kind of sick— "

The calm façade on his face shattered. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding audibly. He was pissed—no, beyond pissed. The sheer fury burning in his cerulean eyes was enough to make anyone reconsider being in the same room as him.

Even Nanami, who rarely displayed emotion, looked like he was on the edge of losing it. His glare toward Shoko was fierce, veins pulsing on his temple as if he was barely containing his own anger.

The brother—Ryusaki L/N. If that bastard was still alive, Gojo was going to find him. And he wouldn't be showing any mercy.