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

138 ~ Hundred And Thirty-Eight

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

***

[N]anami's voice cut through the silence with his usual composure, steady and unhurried. It felt oddly tense, given that Gojo hadn't cracked a single joke in a while. "Unless she has a technique up her sleeve, the odds aren't in her favor." His tone was firm, as if stating a fact rather than voicing concern.

Gojo, who had been grinning moments before at the sight of you squaring off with Kinji, felt the smirk slip from his face. Something about the situation wasn't sitting right with him. Hell, even he wasn't sure he understood what was happening. But his Six Eyes had caught it—your cursed technique.

It was faint, distorted by Kirara's cursed star mark, and tangled with traces of Toge and Kinji's energy that you were absorbing at a trickle—barely 2%. Nobody else could've noticed. But Gojo saw it. He read it.

You had used your technique. But here's the thing: he hadn't seen you activate it. He only recognized it after the fact. The residue, the lingering embers. And for the first time in a while, his mind was working overtime, trying to wrap around what he had just witnessed.

"What's with the silence? Cat got his tongue?" Utahime's sharp voice sliced through, dripping with her usual exasperation toward Gojo.

"She used curse technique." The strongest muttered, the words slipping out quietly, more to himself than to anyone else.

Nanami glanced over. "What do you mean? You saw something?" There was a hint of curiosity in his tone but also an edge. He didn't like being kept in the dark.

Gojo didn't respond, his mind somewhere else entirely. He tapped his thumb against his forehead, a familiar gesture that only appeared when he was deep in thought. "What could it be?" His voice was a murmur, as if he were talking through a puzzle out loud.

"Even with Six Eyes, you can't figure it out?"

Before Gojo could answer, a burst of laughter crackled through the speakers. Your laughter—wild, manic even. It echoed from the screen, drawing every eye in the room.

"Looks like I've been given a second chance, huh?" Your voice was sharp, unhinged, aimed at Kinji. "Honestly? I don't think I can win."

Nanami's frown deepened at the admission. You? Giving up? You had been through worse situations, more dangerous missions, and never once had you shown any sign of surrender. What was happening to you?

"You're filthy strong," you continued, a manic grin stretching across your face. "If I face you? With your technique—luck, wasn't it? I wouldn't stand a chance. I'd lose. No doubt about it."

Gojo's eyes narrowed, his focus solely on the screen. Something was off. What were you getting at?

"Did Kinji ever tell her his technique?" Yaga's gruff could be heard from behind, a frown pulling at his features.

The strongest stayed silent, too absorbed in the moment to bother responding.

"I doubt it," Nanami answered instead, still eyeing Gojo carefully. He could feel something was wrong.

Gojo, lost in thought, murmured something under his breath, his voice barely a whisper. It was almost like he was in a trance. "Foresight?"

"Are you saying her technique is foresight?"

There was no clear answer—Gojo couldn't even piece it together himself. His mind raced. If it had been foresight, he would've seen the activation. He could always read curse techniques—always. But the fact that he hadn't meant something more elusive was at play. It wasn't just that your curse energy was hard to read—it was distorted.

"Mei Mei called it forbidden..." he whispered, eyes narrowing as pieces began falling into place. You had used Reverse Cursed Technique once, but only for selective healing. Now, your curse technique felt like it operated on a different plane. A plane that could bypass even the Six Eyes.

"Don't tell me..." Gojo's eyes widened slightly. His mind flashed back to the list of forbidden techniques—those subject to subjugation since the Heian era. Techniques deemed too dangerous for the world. There was one in particular that fit what he had seen.

"Rewin—"

Nanami's voice cut through his thoughts. "Looks like she's doing it again."

The strongest sorcerer blinked, jolted back to the present. "What?"

Nanami nodded toward the screen. You were standing now, one hand in your pocket, the other tracing lazy, invisible circles in the air.

"That," he pointed out, his tone tinged with faint amusement. "She does that whenever she's working through something. A new theory or discovery about her innate gift."

Shoko chimed in, her voice dry as usual. "Spending a week with Y/N and suddenly you're the expert?"

Gojo's focus was entirely on you, not paying attention to anything else. You were now locked in combat with Kinji, exchanging blows while he mocked you, saying your moves were predictable.

He wasn't wrong—any experienced sorcerer could read them. But then you paused, your expression turning contemplative, tracing that familiar circular pattern in the air. Just like Nanami had mentioned, the same gesture you made when trying to solve something complex.

His pupils dilated, his expression shifting from thoughtfulness to something more intense—shock.

"What's your problem, Gojo?" Utahime remarked, annoyance lacing her voice. "You've been acting weird ever since earlier."

He didn't respond right away. But when he finally spoke, his voice was a low murmur, barely audible. "Her cursed energy flow... it's faint, like a thread. Like she's trying to erase it."

Yaga frowned. "What are you saying?"

Gojo's gaze remained steady, his blue eyes flicking over his shoulder to meet his former sensei's. "Exactly what it sounds like... she's erasing her presence from existence."

***

You had no idea how you were still kneeling beside Toge, the flagpole in your hand, your grip tight around it as if it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

None of this made sense. You knew you lost. You felt it. Every punch, every blow, the ache still lingering in your leg and gut. So how were you still here? Unless... you'd gone mad? Maybe this was a dream?

"Toge? Did I fight Kinji just now?" The question left your lips in a daze, your eyes fixated on Kinji, though you weren't really looking at him. You were staring through him, lost somewhere between reality and whatever this was.

Toge shook his head silently beside you. The slight ripple in the cursed energy around you confirmed it: No.

But that was impossible, right? You felt it. The pain was real, wasn't it?

Your leg still throbbed faintly, and the soreness in your gut was undeniable. If this was a dream, it shouldn't feel this real. Then Toge's grip on your arm tightened, grounding you. That touch—it was too solid, too real for a dream.

Your eyes caught his, and for a moment, the confusion mirrored in his expression triggered something in your mind.

Foresight? No, this wasn't like foresight. You'd had visions before, but pain had never carried over into the present. So why was this different? Your mind raced, connecting possibilities until one question surfaced: Did time just rewind?

"Who cares..." you muttered under your breath, pushing the flagpole into Toge's lap as you stood. "Hold this for me, will ya?"

A thought began to form. If this was a second chance—some kind of cosmic reset—how could you make it matter? How could you avoid the same mistakes? Kinji had luck on his side, a technique you couldn't hope to beat unless... unless you were him.

Wait. What if you could become him?

Suddenly, your awareness of cursed energy sharpened, like a veil had lifted. You could sense every thread of his cursed energy, every pathway it took through his body. If you could sense it, maybe you could adapt it.

A sharp, unhinged laugh escaped your lips. "Looks like I've been given a second chance, huh?" Your voice was edged with a hint of venom as you locked eyes with Kinji. "Honestly? I don't think I can win."

"You're filthy strong," you went on, your voice steady as you acknowledged Kinji's strength and capabilities. "If I face you? With your technique—luck, wasn't it? I wouldn't stand a chance. I'd lose. No doubt about it."

This wasn't flattery or an attempt to strategize—it was a simple fact. You raised your hand, tracing a pattern in the air, almost like Gojo's move with Red, though yours wasn't an attack. It was concentration. Focus.

You could feel the cursed energy around you, merging it with your own. Kinji's cursed energy felt blunt, almost like a sledgehammer. His strikes were reinforced with it, which explained why they'd hurt so much. You weren't Yuta—you couldn't copy techniques—but you didn't need to. You could adapt.

If you could mimic the flow of his cursed energy, tailor it to your own body, maybe, just maybe, you could turn this fight around.

A faint hum escaped your lips as your fingers traced a circle in the air. Kinji's eyes narrowed, though his smirk stayed firmly in place. "What's this?" he taunted. "You giving up already? 'Cause if you are, good. I don't like to—"

"—beat women?" You finished for him, already knowing what he was going to say. You'd heard it before. "I know."

You stopped tracing the pattern, letting your hand fall to your side. For the first time since the flag bearer game began, you felt calm. Truly calm. This wasn't about fighting desperately anymore. This was about making this second chance count.

30% cursed energy outflow wasn't cutting it—you needed more. No more playing it safe. You cranked your absorption to 50%, matching it with an equal outflow, but instead of just reinforcing your limbs, you spread the energy throughout your entire body

This wasn't just a balancing act—it was multitasking on a whole new level.

In fact, you were triple-tasking by managing both the inflow and outflow simultaneously, and redirecting the energy through newly formed pathways inside you. It wasn't about raw strength anymore; you were reinforcing every organ, every muscle, every fiber, like building an internal armor from the inside out.

A chuckle slipped from your lips.

Kinji tilted his head slightly, that cocky smirk of his still in place. "You gonna make a move, or what?" His tone was casual, but you caught the flicker of something else in his eyes. Maybe curiosity? Intrigue?

You didn't answer. Instead, you focused on the energy coursing through you, molding it to your will, adapting it just as Kinji had done with his. You weren't trying to beat him at his own game. You were creating a new one.

Another chuckle, softer this time. Yeah, this was gonna be fun.