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

17 ~ Seventeen

[W]orking with curses and spirits had woven itself into the fabric of your daily life. It was a reality you'd adjusted to—or so you thought. But even with all the experience, there were moments that managed to cut through your composure, chilling you in ways you couldn't fully explain.

Sitting here now, listening to Mina, was one of those moments.

"D-death?" The word stumbled out of your mouth, the tremor in your voice betraying what your carefully neutral expression refused to.

Mina gave a single nod, her gaze fixed resolutely on the rippling water. Her lips parted like she wanted to say more, but hesitation weighed her down. Then, as if to defend herself from the judgment she must have been bracing for, the words spilled out in a rush. "I know it sounds crazy. Sinichi-nii's told me as much already, but—" Her voice caught, breaking the sentence in half, her shoulders falling like the weight was finally too much to carry.

You leaned forward slightly, the tension between you crackling like static. Her hunched posture and the heaviness in her tone painted a picture far more vivid than her words. She wasn't just spooked—she was haunted.

"And do you..." You paused, choosing your words carefully, your voice lowering to match the gravity in the air. "Do you know why she'd threaten you?"

The question hung there for a moment, fragile and dangerous. For a second, you thought Mina might shut down entirely. But then her shoulders straightened ever so slightly, her fingers curling into tight fists beneath the water. Something shifted in her expression, a flicker of relief that you were listening—truly listening.

"She always asks for Sinichi-nii." Her voice was quieter now, but steadier, the words carrying a weight they couldn't possibly hold on their own.

Your stomach twisted. Sinichi? Why would a spirit—Miyu, no less—be after him?

"And when he's not around?" you prompted softly.

Mina's jaw tightened, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard. "When he's not in Kyoto..." Her voice faltered, and she closed her eyes for a moment as if trying to push back the fear clawing at her chest. "She doesn't leave. She just waits."

The silence that followed was oppressive, the faint sound of water lapping at the edges of the onsen suddenly deafening. You tried to push past the chill creeping along your spine, your voice dropping into something firmer, steadier, though your heart hammered against your ribs. "What does she do while she waits?"

Mina's gaze finally met yours, and the emptiness there stopped you cold. "She makes sure I know she's still there."

Her voice was flat, emotionless, but it hit like a slap. The image of Miyu—someone you once knew, someone you once cared for—looming like a shadow over Mina's life twisted something deep inside you.

"And when she's done waiting," Mina continued, her tone darkening, her lips barely moving, "she always promises one thing."

Your throat tightened. "What?"

"She tells me," Mina whispered, her eyes locking onto yours like she was handing over the weight of the curse itself, "that if Sinichi doesn't come back, she'll take me instead."

The air seemed to grow colder, the warmth of the onsen unable to touch the chill now seeping into your chest. You opened your mouth, ready to say something—anything—but the words tangled in your throat. The weight of Mina's confession bore down like an unseen hand pressing against your shoulders.

Whatever Miyu was—or had become—this wasn't something you could dismiss as trauma or bad dreams. It wasn't just some fragment of memory clawing at the edges of reality. It was real.

"Okay," you nodded, voice measured and calm, the way Nanami had taught you to handle volatile situations. "We'll figure this out. Let's talk to Satoru when we're done here."

Mina blinked, her brow twitching in disbelief. "You mean your stupid boyfriend?"

The sudden jab caught you off guard, and a laugh slipped out before you could stop it. The tension cracked just enough to let a sliver of levity seep in. "He's not stupid, you know," you countered with a smirk. "You'd be surprised how reliable he can be."

Mina's expression shifted to one of pure skepticism, her arched brow practically screaming yeah, right. But after a beat, she sighed, like the fight had gone out of her. "And you're sure he won't treat me like I'm insane? Like Sinichi-nii does?"

"Absolutely." Your conviction didn't waver, and that seemed to be all the assurance she needed.

As the conversation continued, Mina began to relax, her words flowing more freely. She admitted to choosing the onsen because it was one of the few places where Miyu—or whatever was left of her—didn't follow. Sinichi, apparently, had been irritated about the trip specifically because of this.

Her next revelation caught you off guard. "After everything with Miyu and Sinichi-nii, I didn't have anyone else to turn to," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the water. "He's the only one who listens... when things get bad."

A pang of guilt stirred deep in your chest. It was faint, a shadow of something you'd long since buried, but it lingered. You shook it off quickly. This wasn't your fault. You'd learned that the hard way—curses had a way of entangling people in blame that wasn't theirs to carry.

By the time the two of you were out of the water and in the changing room, Mina seemed a little steadier. The conversation turned practical as you dried off and slipped into the soft yukata provided by the ryokan.

"That mark," you ventured, nodding toward the faint scars on her wrist. "She gave you that?"

Mina paused, her hands still as she tied her obi. "Yeah. It was after Sinichi-nii went to Tokyo for one of his deals. She wanted me to call him back. I... refused."

You leaned against the bench, arms crossed. "You refused her?"

"I thought maybe Sinichi was right. What if it was just nightmares? What if I was overthinking everything?" Her lips twisted into something bitter—a grimace of regret. "So I... challenged her."

The sharp exhale that followed told you exactly how that went.

"And?"

"It was a mistake." She rolled up her sleeve, revealing the marks that marred her skin. "At first, they were just claw marks. But then..." Her voice trailed off as she studied the discolored ridges of her tattoo-like scars. "They grew worse. I don't even know how."

You stared for a moment longer than you intended. There was something unsettling about that mark—like they pulsed faintly under the low light, defying the mundane explanation your rational mind scrambled to construct.

You nodded once, motioning her toward the door. "Is there anything else?" The question hung in the air, heavier than it should have been.

Mina stopped mid-step, her hand hovering near the red noren. Her eyes darted sideways, scanning the room as though the walls themselves might betray her. "There's something," she admitted, voice dropping to a near whisper. "She's not the... only one."

Your brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"

Mina turned back to you, her expression unreadable, her voice barely audible. "I can see more. Spirits, ghosts... things like her."

You stiffened at that, the words triggering a cascade of memories—Gojo explaining the basics of cursed energy, how the ability to see curses was a prerequisite for a jujutsu sorcerer. "W-where?"

"Everywhere," she confessed, her voice barely more than a murmur. Her gaze was distant now, fixed on something you couldn't see—or maybe something she wished she couldn't. "The hospital. Train stations. Even here."

You exhaled heavily, raking a hand through your hair. "Got it. I'll tell Satoru."

You were already turning, the red noren divider ahead marking the threshold to the hallway, when her fingers curled around your wrist.

"Don't." Her voice faltered, urgent but soft. "Don't mention it infront of Sinichi-nii. He'll get mad."

Right. Sinichi. His presence was already throwing a wrench into an already complicated situation. As if he hadn't made things difficult enough by showing up uninvited.

"Fine," you agreed, your tone clipped but understanding.

When you stepped through the noren, Mina trailing just behind, the sight of them waiting pulled your attention immediately. Gojo leaned lazily against the wall near the women's entrance, his crystalline eyes framed by his hair, damp and tousled from the bath. Strands of white clung to his forehead, making him look even more striking than usual, as if that was somehow possible.

Sinichi was there too, arms crossed and visibly irritated, though no one seemed to care. A few passing women barely glanced in his direction, their attention squarely on Gojo instead. Their quiet murmurs filled the air as they tried, and failed, to look discreet.

Gojo didn't so much as acknowledge them. His gaze was already locked on you, unwavering and burning with a kind of promise that made your stomach flip. He looked... sinful. He always did.

"Did we keep you waiting?" you asked casually, though your focus was entirely on Gojo.

His response came in the form of a smirk—sharp and knowing—before his hand reached for yours. The touch was deliberate, his fingers brushing over your knuckles before he brought your palm to his lips. The warmth of his kiss sent a jolt through you, heat curling low in your stomach.

"Not long," he murmured, his tone smug, his eyes electric. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was enjoying it.

Your gaze narrowed, a silent warning he, predictably, ignored. "You're impossible," you muttered under your breath, though the flutter in your chest betrayed you.

"And you love it," he countered smoothly, his smirk deepening.

Rolling your eyes, you tugged your hand free, but not before letting your fingers graze his cheek. The touch was light, almost tender, and the way his eyes darkened at the gesture made your pulse quicken.

"We should get going," you quipped, tilting your head slightly, though the smirk playing on your lips betrayed your amusement. "I'm starving."

Gojo's gaze lingered a moment longer, a thousand unspoken words simmering in his expression. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he pushed off the wall.

"Dinner it is," he announced, his arm casually sliding around your waist as the four of you began to make your way down the hall. Sinichi walked a step ahead, his stiff posture screaming discomfort, while Mina glanced between you and Gojo, her expression a mix of exasperation and disbelief.

"Do you two ever stop?" she muttered under her breath, her voice dripping with second-hand embarrassment.

Gojo's grin widened, his hand tightening just enough at your hip to make you smirk. "Not a chance," he teased, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

Sinichi groaned audibly. "Can we at least pretend this is a serious situation?"

You shrugged, leaning slightly into Gojo, who looked positively gleeful at Sinichi's frustration. "Oh, we're plenty serious," you quipped, your tone light but your eyes glinting with something deeper as you glanced at Gojo.

And the way his gaze softened, just for a split second, told you he understood.