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

135 ~ Hundred And Thirty-Five

Disclaimer: This chapter contains spoilers about a specific character from the manga—read at your own risk!

***

[N]anami crossed his arms, casting a sideways glance at the sorcerer, who was lounging in his seat as if the unfolding match was a casual afternoon show. "You really had to do her dirty like that?" His tone was calm, but there was no mistaking the disapproval laced in his words.

Gojo, unfazed, sipped on his sweet drink, eyes fixed on the screens ahead.

The viewing setup was elaborate, almost excessive. Televisions stacked one on top of the other, offering different angles of the test. It was clear they'd gone to some lengths to ensure every part of the field, including the gap between yours and Kinji's base, was covered. Surveillance had never felt so personal.

The white-haired sorcerer raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence as he cracked a smirk. "Me? I'm not the one who picked the test, Nanamin."

With a sigh, the blonde man adjusted his glasses, the familiar frustration with Gojo's antics evident. "No. But you picked her opponents."

"Oh, that?" Gojo's eyes seemed to widen in mock realization, his tone drenched in playful cluelessness. "Oops."

The blonde gave him a look that suggested he wasn't amused. "Kinji alone could give a Grade 1 sorcerer a hard time, but pairing him with Kirara Hoshi?" His brows furrowed in irritation. "That's overkill. Even for you."

Setting his cup down with deliberate calm, the Strongest flashed his familiar, too-cheery-to-be-trusted grin. "Relax, Nanamin. This is gonna be fun." His voice carried that signature, carefree lilt that always managed to get under Nanami's skin. "Besides, her strategy isn't half bad."

Nanami paused, the reluctant acknowledgement of Gojo's point flickering in his eyes. As much as he hated to admit it, the man did have an eye for these things. "True," he conceded, his tone gruff. "Using her gift as a locator to track everyone while she heads straight for the enemy's flag... it's clever."

There was a hint of satisfaction in Gojo's demeanor as he produced a nod. "Exactly. She knows Maki and Toge can't keep up with Kinji's team in a straight fight, so she's buying time. Let them stall while she makes her move."

The blonde watched the screens intently, noticing how you'd moved across the field with calculated precision. "And since Kinji's team has no real means of communication, she controls the flow of the game. The terrain is hers. It's like—"

"Playing chess," the white-haired finished, his smirk widening. "She's moving like a queen, owning the board."

Despite himself, Nanami had to admit Gojo's insight was spot-on. You weren't just playing the game; you were twisting it to your advantage, manipulating every move like a seasoned chessmaster. It was a daring, brilliant maneuver—one that might actually succeed.

Shoko's voice sliced through the charged air, sharp with amusement. "Who do you think would win between Kirara and Y/N?" she asked, her eyes darting between Nanami and Gojo from her spot in the second row.

The blonde turned to her, his forehead creasing as he thought. "If we're talking cursed energy, manipulation, and flow, Y/N's got the edge. But when it comes to curse techniques and strategy, Kirara's on another level. She has a knack for turning any situation to her favor. Unless Y/N's figured out how to counter that, her chances are slim."

Gojo's gaze remained glued to the screens as Nanami broke down the game's developments, but inside, a storm of emotions swirled. Pride surged within him, seeing how far you'd come and how fast you'd grown—something he truly admired.

Yet, part of him wished you'd chosen a different path. He had seen too many lives cut short, too many friends lost to this brutal world. As the strongest, the weight of protecting others from this harsh reality fell solely on him.

By deliberately upping the ante, he'd hoped you'd reconsider your path after Nanami's evaluation. But you were stubborner than he'd expected.

The truth was, a part of him wanted you to fail this test. It might hurt, maybe even anger you, or make you resent him. But he was ready to take that risk because, no matter what, he'd be there to pick up the pieces and protect you.

Even if you hadn't asked for his protection, he'd always been prepared to shield what was his. "It's hard to say," he admitted with a shrug, his casual tone hiding the deeper emotions beneath. "It's too early to tell who'll come out on top."

***

Kirara's cocky smirk was the first red flag.

She stood way too still, like she wasn't worried at all. Her back rested casually against a tree, her star-shaped pupils barely acknowledging you as you stepped forward. The flag waved lazily behind her, just out of reach. Too easy. Way too easy.

You should've known better.

The second you moved, you felt it—like an invisible hand tugging at you, jerking you sideways before you could even process what was happening. Your curse energy flared instinctively, reacting to the pull, but no matter how much you fought against it, something was dragging you off course.

Kirara barely looked up from where she stood, her head tilted slightly, amused. "Really? That's all it took?"

Her voice grated on your nerves, but you maintained your composure, a controlled smirk firmly in place. Letting her get under your skin would only give her the upper hand.

No, she wasn't attacking because she didn't have to—her traps were already laid, and you had just walked right into them.

You stepped again, and once more, you were yanked sideways, this time toward a different star signature. It didn't matter what you did; the invisible pull of her curse technique forced you to move according to her rules.

At first, the mechanics of it didn't make sense. What was she doing? Warp? Teleport?

No... it wasn't transportation in the traditional sense. You weren't moving distances instantly; you were being forced to follow a specific pattern, one dictated by the star markers. Every move you made had to align with the sequence of stars she'd placed. The realization settled in.

Her technique.

You could feel it now—the stars. Subtle at first, but unmistakable once you tuned in. They were scattered all over the terrain, some tied to the flag, some tied to you. Invisible threads connecting everything, like a twisted constellation only Kirara had control over.

A constellation. That's what this was. She'd marked you, locking you into a sequence where every move you made was dictated by the positions of those stars. No matter how hard you tried to push through, the cursed energy signatures kept yanking you back, forcing you to follow her pattern.

And, of course, constellations were never your strong suit, so the idea of figuring out the right sequence to reach the flag felt like trying to navigate in the dark.

You needed to find a way to bypass the pull of her cursed technique. Your eyes flickered over the faint glow of the star markers, calculating the distance between them.

You could sense the flow of her cursed energy clearly now, the patterns swirling through the battlefield like invisible currents. Her technique relied on those patterns to manipulate space and direction. If you resisted, you'd stay trapped. But if you could sync with it, you might be able to break free.

Focusing on the pull of the star marked on you, you let its cursed energy wash over you instead of resisting. It was like tuning into a frequency, matching your own energy to the rhythm of hers. You could feel the star's flow—sharp and distinct, tugging at you—but instead of pushing back, you aligned yourself with it. Your subtle cursed energy blended seamlessly with the star's signal, like finding the perfect wavelength, syncing your energies together.

And then came the twist.

Once you were in sync, you began to shift the flow—just a bit, barely noticeable at first. Your cursed energy nudged against hers, altering the star's pattern from the inside. Slowly, deliberately, you manipulated the energy, unraveling the star's hold over you.

Kirara's head snapped up, her brows furrowing. "What the hell are you doing?"

The star's pull finally weakened, loosening its grip on you. You smirked, feeling the shift in the air. "Figuring you out."

Her face twisted in disbelief as you moved again, this time with more control. The stars still tugged at you, but their rhythm was now disrupted—the sequence broken. You could feel the gaps in her technique, the weak points where her control faltered.

She hadn't anticipated someone who could rewrite the cursed energy signature of her star.

Now that you were in sync, you pushed further, not just altering the flow but absorbing it. Your cursed energy swallowed the star's power, pulling it into you and severing the connection completely. The star flickered out of existence, leaving nothing but a faint shimmer where it once controlled the battlefield.

Kirara's eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly. "No way... You can't just—!"

You had deciphered her technique. As long as you avoided being marked, you could navigate through her complex web of sequences. The only ways you could get marked were through direct contact with a cursed object or area she'd strategically placed or through direct touch.

Her curse technique was undeniably effective, which made sense for why she was chosen to guard the base.

Now that you were free, you had two options: either navigate through this minefield of markers while avoiding them or neutralize the key markers obstructing your path to the flag.

You didn't need to deliberate. You moved with a hint of resolve, syncing with the next star marker. You repeated the process—tune in, align, disrupt, absorb. Each time, the influence of the stars diminished, flickering out like dying embers. Kirara's control over the battlefield was collapsing, and she could see it.

Panicked, the rebellious teenage girl scrambled to place new stars, marking fresh spots in a frantic attempt to regain control. But now that you had deciphered the frequency of her cursed energy, it was only a matter of time before you dismantled her entire sequence. One by one, you neutralized her stars, erasing them from the meticulously crafted map she had set up.

"You—!" Her frustration erupted as her technique faltered.

With one final, decisive push, you closed the gap between yourself and the flag. The last star fizzled out as you severed its connection. Kirara's attempts to counter were futile. Your hand gripped the flagpole, wrenching the flag free as you spun to face her.

She stood frozen, eyes wide with disbelief, her carefully laid sequences shattered.

"Not so fun when it's broken, huh?" you stated, holding the flag aloft as Kirara looked on, somehow powerless.

It was game over for her. Kirara realized it.