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

130 - Hundred And Thirty

"Heya, Nana-min," came the unmistakably obnoxious voice of none other than Gojo Satoru.

His grin was impossibly wide, like he'd just won the lottery, and his fingers wiggled in a ridiculous wave as Nanami stepped through the doorway. The strongest sorcerer was lounging—no, sprawling—on one of the couches in Nanami's office, as if he owned the place.

For a moment, Nanami paused, considering whether to just turn around and walk right back out. Surely, he had entered the wrong room. His private workspace, meant for focus and peace, was now polluted by the absolute chaos that was Gojo Satoru.

With a deep, resigned sigh, the blonde massaged his temples. The headache that accompanied Gojo's very presence was already threatening to bloom. "What do you want, Gojo?"

"So?" He ignored the exasperation in Nanami's voice entirely, his own tone far too bright, like he was on the verge of bouncing off the walls. He leaned back even further, if that was possible, his grin so wide it was practically unhinged. "How did it go? How did she do?"

Of course, Nanami knew exactly who he was talking about. The shift in his expression was subtle, but Gojo caught it immediately. The smile slipped, just a little, as his usual carefree demeanor was replaced by a flicker of something else.

In a flash, Gojo was no longer lounging but instead was on his feet, already moving.

One second he was in Nanami's office, the next he was storming into Shoko's lab, Nanami trailing behind, trying to explain, but he wasn't listening. His blindfolded gaze swept the room, sharp, seeking.

"I said it's just a minor bleed," Nanami reiterated, trying to keep things grounded, but the strongest's attention was fixed squarely on you.

You were perched on one of Shoko's examination tables, looking far worse for wear despite having freshened up. A black hoodie pulled over your head, sweatpants to match, but your complexion was pale, and the persistent trickle of blood from your nose was unsettling. Even Shoko's reverse curse technique wasn't doing much, only slowing the bleeding rather than stopping it.

Gojo's lips thinned into a hard line, his usual carefree demeanor slipping as he stood frozen, eyes locked on you. His expression was unreadable, but the tension was clear. "She looks like shit," he muttered, barely loud enough for anyone else to hear, the usual playfulness drained from his tone.

There was something heavier there, something close to regret—like he was already second-guessing his decision to leave you in Nanami's hands.

He reached out, intending to check on you, his hand hovering near your face—but you flinched, your body reacting before you could stop it.

His hand jerked back as if you had burned him. For a split second, something akin to... hurt flashed across his face, disappearing almost as quickly as it had come. Gojo stepped back, giving you space, as if retreating into a distance he hoped might make you feel safer.

But the truth had nothing to do with your reflexes or trauma.

Not this time. The second he entered the room, you'd felt the overwhelming pressure of his cursed energy surrounding you. His mere presence, the sheer intensity of his aura, sent a thrill down your spine.

You didn't flinch because of fear—you flinched because the pull of his energy on yours was intoxicating.

There was something about Gojo Satoru's cursed energy that resonated with you on a level you couldn't fully explain, or even control.

Shoko, arms crossed, shot Gojo an exasperated look from her place against the counter. "It's not my fault. She overdid it—pushed her cursed energy up to twelve percent. Her brain's probably strained from trying to manage simultaneous inflow and outflow control."

This caused a momentary pause in the strongest sorcerer's, his frown deepening.

Inflow and outflow? Simultaneous cursed energy control? The concept was foreign even to him for a moment—until he pieced it together.

You had been trying to absorb cursed energy while expelling it? Like writing with both hands at the same time, forcing your body to handle two completely opposing processes simultaneously?

It was... brilliant but risky. No, more than risky—it was dangerous.

His momentary admiration was overshadowed by a hint of frustration. As someone who wielded immense control over his techniques, including the balance of Red and Blue in his Hollow Purple, he recognized what you had attempted to do. It wasn't far off from how he combined opposite forces in his own cursed technique. But you weren't him.

"And I can't heal it completely," Shoko added with a slight shrug, irritation slipping through her calm demeanor. "Reverse cursed technique's not a miracle cure, you know."

"Twelve percent?" Gojo's tone held a sharp edge, his blindfolded eyes narrowing as if he still couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "She could barely handle five percent the last time I checked."

Nanami, standing nearby, tried to cut in. "She mentioned something about increasing her resistance—apparently absorbing your cursed energy helped push her limits to ten percent."

"W-what?"

Gojo was still piecing it all together. You'd attempted simultaneous control, pushed your cursed energy resistance up to 10%, but ended up using 12% instead? You were lucky to have only walked away with minor bleeding.

"Tried my best," Shoko commented dryly, though you could hear the strain beneath it. "The bleeding's nearly stopped, but she's been complaining about an 'unbearable headache'."

Gojo's lips twitched, his fingers drumming against his arm like he was barely keeping it together. "A headache? That 'headache' almost fried her brain," he shot back.

Great. They were both standing there, dissecting your condition like you weren't even in the room. But one thing was clear: Gojo needed to stop holding back his cursed energy. The second he walked in, you noticed the headache ease just a little. His cursed energy—intimidating and vast as it was—actually helped.

You needed more of it.

The thought hit you suddenly, making you freeze.