Kings And Queens [Jujutsu Kaisen x Reader/OC]

Ch 24 (New mission?)

(Ps- instead of Y/N author is going to replace with (Name) thank you for your understanding)

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"Africa?"

(Name) didn't look up from the edge of the scythe she was meticulously polishing. The oversized blade of the weapon caught the harsh fluorescent light of the Tokyo Jujutsu High hallway. Even though she was a creature of sloth, the maintenance of her weapon was the one habit she hadn't let slip-it was too dangerous not to.

"Yep! It's a bit of a trek, but the change of pace will be good for you," Gojo Satoru chirped, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "But there's a condition. Ayanami stays here with me."

The cloth in (Name)'s hand stopped mid-stroke. She looked up, her gaze flat and unreadable. "No. We're a package deal. You know how the contract works."

"I know how the contract works, and I know how you work," Gojo countered. The playfulness left his voice, replaced by the weight of a teacher who had seen too many students falter. "You've gotten soft, (Name). You have the energy, you have the tool, and you have the talent-but you let him do all the heavy lifting. If this continues, your own Cursed Energy will stagnate until you're nothing but a battery for a ghost."

(Name) felt the shadow beneath her feet shift. Ayanami began to rise, a silent, towering presence of ink and silver. His hand reached out, his long, cold fingers hovering just inches from the nape of her neck.

"Aya, tell him," she muttered.

But the Curse didn't lash out. He didn't even side to what she said. Instead, the hand moved from her neck to the top of her head, a gesture that felt heartbreakingly like a goodbye.His violet eyes soften yet he didn't say nothing.

(Name) felt a cold dread settle in her stomach. "Aya?"

The Curse looked at Gojo and gave a slow, singular nod. Then, without a sound, he stepped back, detaching himself from her shadow and standing beside Gojo"

"He's doing this because he loves you, in his own twisted way," Gojo said softly. "He won't let you become a weak link. Now, grab your scythe. Your flight leaves in two hours."

(Name) gripped the handle of her weapon so hard her knuckles turned white. For the first time in years, the weight of the steel felt real. It felt heavy.

The Moroccan heat was a suffocating blanket. (Name) stood on the tarmac, her scythe wrapped in heavy canvas and slung over her shoulder. Every few seconds, she glanced at her feet, expecting to see the familiar, jagged edges of Ayanami's presence.

There was nothing but the flat, ordinary shadow of a girl.

"You look like you're missing a limb," a voice rumbled.

Miguel stood by a dust-caked jeep, checking a map. Beside him was a boy with dark circles under his eyes and a quiet, intense aura.

"I'm Okkotsu Yuta," the boy said, stepping forward. He looked at the wrapped weapon on her back. "Gojo-sensei said you were a scythe user. It's a difficult weapon to master."

"I managed," (Name) said, her voice clipped.

"She looks like she's about to fall over," Miguel muttered, climbing into the driver's seat. "Listen, we're heading into a tomb system that's been infested with ancient Grade 1s and special grades. If you're too lazy to swing that overgrown knife, stay out of our way."

(Name) didn't bother responding. She just climbed into the back, the scythe leaning against her shoulder like a silent, metal companion.

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The air inside the ruins was thick with the smell of wet earth and rot. As they descended into the lower chambers, the walls began to pulse with a sickly, purple Cursed Energy.

"They're here," Yuta whispered, drawing his katana.

From the shadows of the pillars, dozens of multi-limbed spirits emerged, their bodies a grotesque fusion of human torsos and insectoid legs. They moved with a terrifying, skittering speed.

"Don't let them surround you!" Miguel shouted, his Black Rope snapping through the air like a whip.

(Name) stood in the center of the fray. Habit took over; she waited for the cold pressure of Ayanami to erupt from her back and shield her. She waited for the monster to do the work.

A spirit lunged, its claws inches from her face.

Aya-!

The realization hit her like ice water. He wasn't there.

She ducked, the movement purely instinctual, and rolled across the stone floor. Her heart was hammering, a frantic rhythm she hadn't felt in years. She reached back, unwrapping the scythe in one fluid motion. The canvas fell away, revealing the gleaming, curved blade.

"I hate this," she hissed, her voice trembling with a mix of rage and exhaustion.

She channeled her Cursed Energy-not into a Curse, but into the steel. The blade began to glow with a dull, flickering light. As three spirits converged on her, she spun, the scythe whistling through the air in a wide, lethal arc.

The first spirit was bisected at the waist. The second lost its head. The third managed to back away, but (Name) didn't let it. She stepped forward, her movements surprisingly sharp despite her "slothful" reputation, and drove the point of the blade through its core.

She stood there, panting, the heavy scythe resting on her shoulders. Her arms ached. Her lungs burned.

"Nice sweep," Yuta said, glancing back as he finished off his own set of targets. He looked at her with a new sense of understanding. "You've been holding back, haven't you?"

(Name) looked at the ichor dripping from her blade. She missed the ease of Ayanami's protection. She missed the luxury of being lazy. But as she felt the raw power of her own energy buzzing in her fingertips, she realized that Gojo hadn't just taken her protector.

He had forced her to remember that she was a sorcerer first, and a vessel second.

"I still want to go home," (Name) muttered, wiping sweat from her brow and resetting her stance. "But I'm not going back empty-handed."

Miguel grinned, a rare flash of teeth in the dark. "Good. Because the big one just woke up."

From the depths of the tomb, a roar echoed that shook the very foundations of the ruins. (Name) gripped her scythe, her eyes narrowing. She was tired, she was selfish, and she was alone-but for the first time, she was dangerous all on her own.