Unbound By Love's Grace [Gojo Satoru x Female Readers]

3 ~ Three

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~ 𝙀𝙢𝙥𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙍𝙚𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 ~

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[𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘤 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘰𝘯-𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘵, 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘝𝘪𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥.]

***

"Don't fight back, Y/N," that voice coiled through the air again, playful but dripping with a venom that chilled your bones. "You'll make it seem like it's forced."

It wasn't just any voice. That tone, the mocking drawl—it stirred something in you, awakening a memory long buried. Were you dead? But if death had claimed you, why did your head pulse with a pain so sharp it left you begging for release?

Another wave of agony surged through your skull, wrenching your eyes open. The sight that greeted you wasn't the afterlife. No, it was worse.

Ryusaki L/N's bedroom—the same place from the fractured memory you received after the rooftop incident. But why were you back here? You had built defenses, fortified yourself against cursed energy inflow up to 75 %. Visions like these should have been sealed away, distant echoes.

Unless... was this the piece of memory Gojo's memory fragments had interrupted last time? Or perhaps now, had you unlocked the ability to dive into these fragments willingly?

Last time you were here, the fear had consumed you. But now, it was different.

The scene unfolded like a twisted play, and you, the unwilling audience, watched with a cold detachment. A younger version of yourself stood in the center of it all—innocent, trembling, and trapped under Ryusaki's grasp.

"Don't... please." Your younger self's voice cracked, barely a whisper, pleading as Ryusaki leaned closer, his lips hovering inches from hers. The malice in his eyes danced, relishing in her helplessness. But before he could act further, a knock thundered against the door, breaking the spell.

"What the hell is going on here?"

The voice that followed was sharp, cutting through the suffocating tension. Sinichi Arai. His presence filled the room like an unwelcome floodlight in a darkened alley.

Your brother straightened, slowly withdrawing, a predator interrupted mid-hunt. His smirk twisted, mocking, as he turned to face Sinichi, who now stepped into the room, eyes narrowing fiercely at the scene. "What's your problem, Arai? Didn't I tell you to wait downstairs?"

"You two were taking too damn long." His gaze flickered between the younger you and Ryusaki, disgust pulling at the corner of his mouth. He stepped forward, his hand finding hers, offering an escape. "Didn't expect you to be this low, Ryu. Hitting on your own sister now? You're sicker than I thought." His tone wasn't angry; it was taunting, cutting, each word a jab meant to wound deeper.

Sinichi's grip tightened around her wrist, pulling her toward the door, but the tension only escalated. Ryusaki's eyes darkened as he followed closely behind, a smirk still plastered on his face like he had the upper hand. "Don't play the hero, Arai. You want the same thing, don't you? I can smell it on you. You've been messing around with Miyu, haven't you? Paying off your family's debts with her. When were you going to tell Y/N?"

The smug expression on Sinichi's face faltered for a fraction of a second before he glared back. "Shut your mouth, Ryu."

"Oh, did I hit a nerve? Come on, Y/N, ask him. He's been sleeping with your best friend behind your back. At least I'm honest. I'd never cheat on you."

The words hung in the air, a lethal blow meant to shatter everything. You—the younger version of you—stood frozen, face paling as the ugly truth seeped in. Sinichi, your Sinichi, with Miyu? The betrayal hit like a punch to the gut.

Sinichi's expression hardened, and without a word, he released her hand and swung. His fist connected with Ryusaki's jaw, the crack of bone echoing through the room. Ryusaki staggered back slightly but wasted no time retaliating, fists flying. Blood splattered as they tore into each other with a ferocity that left the younger you cowering in the corner, too scared to move.