Suguru's selfless wish. My selfish reality. They don't mix. They never did.
I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore.
Sorcerers have to be selfish. It's the only way to keep breathing, the only way to get strong enough to matter. That's why I'm me. That's why I'm still here.
And Suguru? He's gone. His selflessness killed him. He died because he tried to be "good," because he listened to those wrinkled old fossils at the top. He played by the rules and got put in the ground.
I'm starting to think none of it matters, not just the rules, but everything.
If I—Satoru Gojo—am not the "Strongest" in this new place, then what am I? Just some guy with pretty eyes?
If I'm in a world without Sorcery, without the hierarchy I sat at the top of... then what's the point?
It aches. It burns.
Break it. Break it all.
I hate this place. I don't know where I am, and I hate it. The way those people looked at me in affection... like they don't know I could end them with a snap of my fingers. It's irritating. It's disturbing.
I'm selfish. I admit it. So why should I play hero in a world I don't give a damn about? Why Suguru?
Suguru is dead.
What. Is. The. Point?
This world brings me nothing. No joy. No Suguru. It just makes the cracks in my head get wider.
What is the point?
There is no going home.
What is the point? What is the point? What is the point? What is the point? What is the point? What is the point? What is the point? What is the point? What is the point? What is the point? What is the point? What is the point? What is the point? What is the point? What is the point?
There isn't one.
So if there's nothing for me here, I might as well stop pretending. I should just kill, fight and kill, without reason, without logic, without prejudice, without care.
And just maybe, burning this world to the ground, could bring forth something good instead.
If my strength is the only thing that crossed over with me, then I'll use it. Why else am I here? To play nice? No. I might as well burn it all down. Yeah... scorch it. Burn it until there's nothing left but—
——————————————————————
"———"
His eyes snapped open, greeted immediately by an unfamiliar marble ceiling. It looked rich. Noble.
Slowly, he sat up—not in panic, but with a dawning understanding. Someone had saved him. Or hopefully, saved them, at least.
He checked his body. His torso was swathed in bandages. He was grateful, though the logic of it gnawed at him. The Six Eyes were efficient, yes, capable of minimizing cursed energy consumption to near zero, but even they couldn't manually clot blood and keep it from falling dripping out of his wounds while he was unconscious, like how he had been sub-consciously doing it earlier.
If he had been left in that alley, he would be dead.
So, he had a benefactor. But more importantly to him, where was he?
He certainly wasn't in top condition either. If that old man—Olbart—or anyone on a similar level, decided to attack him again right now, Gojo wasn't sure he could bullshit his way out of it a second time.
He scanned the room. The walls and ceiling were overly ornate. A noble's estate, perhaps?
Though, something felt off. It was a sensation hard to put into words, a disconnect between his mind and his body.
And where was Meili? Hopefully, the kid was still alive. She was annoying, sure, but he'd grown somewhat used to her over the past day.
"——Um?!"
Gojo slid off the bed, intending to land on his feet as he always did. But instead of the solid thud of wood meeting his soles, he swung into empty air. He misjudged the distance entirely, tumbling forward and bracing himself as he face-planted onto the floor.
He lay there for a moment, brows furrowed against the hardwood.
He had missed the floor? Him? Satoru Gojo? He possessed the Six Eyes; he didn't "misjudge" spatial dimensions. That was impossible.
Slowly, he pushed himself up. The room seemed... massive. The ceiling was miles away. The bed he had just fallen from looked like a fortress.
Maybe it's just a really big room with really big furniture...
He reasoned, as illogical as it was.
He hadn't been short for a long time. Even as a kid, he was above the average height of his age-range. But this perspective...
"What the—"
The words squeaked out.
Wait. Squeaked?
He slapped a hand over his mouth in sheer surprise. The tone was high-pitched. Soft. Definitely wrong.
Wait a second... no, no, no.
With a scowl, he forcefully pried his hand from his lips to test the sound of himself once again.
"... Aaaaah—La la lala..."
It was wrong.
Really wrong.
Catastrophically wrong.
It wasn't that the room had gotten bigger.
The parting gift.
Gojo looked down at his hands. They were tiny. Soft. Clenched into adorable little fists.
"...Oh, you damn old man..." he yelled, the threat ruined by the childish chipmunk voice echoing off the walls. "When I find you, you're dead!"
——————————————————————
Getting over the revelation of being turned into a literal child was surprisingly easy. Well, who was he kidding? It definitely wasn't easy, but he wasn't about to freak out or make a scene. That would be uncharacteristic of him.
All he had to do was find Olbart—and beat the snot out of that old geezer until he reverted him.
At least, he hoped that was possible.
Under normal circumstances, having an extra six or so years added to his lifespan might've been a bonus, something to be thankful for. But not when the cost was being reverted into a ten-year-old brat. If someone tried to pat him on the head, he wasn't sure he'd have the self-restraint to stop himself from twisting their arm off.
Beating up the elderly was generally looked down upon, but Gojo didn't care—especially not when the old man in question was one of the snakiest people he'd ever laid eyes on. Honestly, if all old people were like that guy, he'd feel extra motivated to go out of his way to terrorize them.
"———"
Still, where the hell was he?
Even with his superhuman senses, he couldn't pinpoint anyone close by.
He wasn't exactly sneaking, but he wasn't advertising his presence either. He walked casually through the hallway, though the Six Eyes were flared, constantly processing the flow of information as he navigated.
The stone walls and expensive carpeting screamed "wealth"—if the noble interior of the room he woke up in hadn't already made that obvious. However, the surprising lack of visitors or guards roaming the halls made Gojo question exactly what kind of place he was wandering through.
It wasn't anxiety. He knew that feeling, and this wasn't it. But he wasn't fully recovered yet. While activating the Limitless and using his Cursed Technique without a splitting headache was possible, it was more mentally taxing than usual.
Thankfully.
Ever since that loss against the pseudo-Geto, he held a newfound disdain for the moments he didn't have the Infinity active. He hated not being protected from all—well, most—threats.
Maybe it was just caution. That was definitely something new to him. He didn't like the way it tasted.
I've been thinking too much lately.
At least he could maintain the Infinity for several hours in this state. A stark contrast to how he could maintain it for multiple days—albeit, it would be exhausting—but it was better than nothing.
He walked past a gap in the stone-slabbed wall, stopping as his brows raised in approval.
"Now that's a real neat view."
The vantage point sat above the surrounding buildings, granting a feeling of superiority to anyone who walked these halls. But that wasn't just what he was thinking about.
A view high above the rest of the city, looking down on everything else.
Didn't that imply just one thing?
His location. He was—
"——?"
He snapped his head around, the Infinity manifesting around his small body the exact moment footsteps thrummed against his eardrums.
He was fully prepared. Prepared to fight, to attack—to win.
Fleeing, as he had been forced to do earlier, left a sick taste in his mouth. It brought a spike of annoyance; his win-loss ratio, which had remained perfect for oh-so-long, had drastically shifted in such a short amount of time.
"Yes. I believe everyone in the city of Chaosflame would agree with that statement, were they able to see the view from up here. Though, perhaps they would show more awe than you."
The silhouette that revealed itself was not what he was expecting.
The person speaking gave a respectful, practiced bow. It was a young girl wearing a distinctive kimono, with deer antlers protruding from her head.
Gojo felt his guard lower—ever so slightly.
"I am a servant of Yorna Mishigure-sama. I am called Tanza. I mean you no harm, and I am glad to see you are healthy, Gojo-sama."
The girl, Tanza, straightened up after her bow and looked Gojo dead in the eye.
For some reason, that pissed him off.
Well, he knew the reason... his lack of height.
This girl was someone he should be towering over. Before, she would have had to crane her neck just to catch a glimpse of his chin. Now? They were practically the same height.
This sucked.
"Gah! Whatever, whatever..." Gojo sighed, shoving his small hands into his pockets, though he kept the Infinity active between them. "Well, 'Tanza,' drop the 'sama.' I've heard it thousands of times, and it's gotten stale. Plus, looking like this, I'm not exactly in the position to be commanding that kind of respect anyway."
"Yorna-sama has accepted you as honored guests; therefore, I can do no such thing. My apologies."
Gojo frowned openly at the refusal. He had never been fond of this type—bootlickers, dogs of the higher-ups—whatever you wanted to call them. Blind obedience always left a bad taste in his mouth.
However, the Six Eyes caught something else. The vibrant information flooding his brain didn't show fear or simple servitude. It picked up a micro-shift in her expression and what he saw looked like reverence. Genuine devotion.
And it certainly wasn't directed at him. So, who was the object of such intense loyalty?
Obviously that 'Yorna Mishigure' person... but for what reason?
"Tch. Suit yourself, then." Gojo waved a hand dismissively. "But at least answer me this. You mentioned 'Yorna Mishigure.' She's a 'Divine General,' right? So, does that mean right now..."
Tanza finished the sentence for him, nodding with practiced poise.
"Yes. You are currently within the Crimson Lapis Castle. Your companion, Meili-sama, dragged your unconscious body here but was halted at the entrance by the guards. Thankfully, Yorna-sama intervened. She accepted you both into the castle and ordered me to treat your injuries to the best of my ability."
Gojo hummed, tapping a finger against his chin in thought.
"Hmm... is that so? Well, I guess I should say thanks, right? To both of you." Gojo flashed a sudden, bright thumbs-up, his demeanor flipping instantly from annoyed to playful. "Thanks for patching me up!"
He let his gaze wander, taking in the ornate architecture of the room.
"So, that's what this castle is called... pretty stylish."
His expression sharpened slightly, the playfulness dimming just a fraction.
"Though, why would she bother? It's totally stereotypical for the Lord of a city to be a jerk and ignore the person bleeding out at their front gate. Especially in a place like this."
Tanza blinked once, a ripple of confusion crossing her stoic features.
"I suppose that is not far from the truth..." she admitted softly. "Perhaps, were this any other city, you would have met the fate you speak of. But the Demon City is no such place. We do not abide by the iron law of 'the strong devour the weak' that the rest of the Empire clings to."
Gojo shrugged, letting out a short chuckle.
The idea of a place called the 'Demon City' being the most welcoming spot in the Empire was ironic—especially considering how they'd arrived—but he pushed that thought aside.
"Why go that far, though?" Gojo pressed, his tone casual but his eyes calculating. "Acting completely different from every other city in Vollachia... surely that attracts a lot of unwanted attention from the big shots."
Tanza straightened her posture, her voice ringing with absolute conviction.
"Perhaps. But Yorna-sama is benevolent. She has already made it known that she does not care for the opinions of those who oppose her way of life, not even Emperor Vincent Vollachia himself. She has rebelled against the world for the sake of her people."
For a moment, Gojo remained quiet.
He hadn't met Yorna Mishigure yet, but his opinion of her was shifting rapidly. It was a stark contrast—night and day—compared to that shriveled old geezer, Olbart. The bastard who had attacked him, spared him on a whim, and shrunk him into this child-sized body.
Yorna, on the other hand, had been welcoming. She had ignored the status quo to save two random 'children' simply because they needed help.
Without realizing it, the corners of Gojo's mouth curled upward into a genuine grin.
"Heh... she sounds pretty damn cool, if I do say so myself." He leaned back, looking relaxed. "Not listening to the higher-ups, ignoring the rules, and not giving a damn what people think... that's exactly my kind of vibe~"
With a satisfied nod, confirming everything he'd just learned, Gojo spun on his heel. He began to march down the hallway, thrusting an index finger triumphantly toward the ceiling.
"Right then! I guess I should go find Yorna-san and say my thanks personally!"
Tanza stood still, watching silently as Gojo strutted confidently down the corridor. She waited a few beats—just long enough for him to build momentum—before speaking in a flat, monotone voice.
"That is the wrong direction."
"—Guh!"
Gojo froze mid-step, his foot hovering in the air. He slowly craned his neck back to peer over his shoulder at the deer girl.
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"
"I have no idea what you are implying, Gojo-sama."
Her tone was perfectly innocent, but thanks to his enhanced vision, Gojo didn't miss the microscopic twitch at the corner of her mouth. She was definitely enjoying this.
Satoru let out a long, theatrical sigh, his small shoulders slumping.
"Haaah... you got me, you got me."
He pouted, shuffling back toward Tanza as she turned to lead the way properly, likely toward wherever Yorna was currently residing.
As they walked, Gojo leaned forward by her side, trying to peer into her face. It annoyed him to no end that, in this shrunken form, while leaning, his eye level was actually lower than hers.
"So, I thought you were completely stone-faced—a super serious attendant! But I guess Tanza-chan has a mischievous side too, huh~?"
"...I suppose so."
"Hmm... boring! You went straight back to robot mode. That funny side of yours is way better, you know!"
Tanza blinked once, raising a brow in mild confusion at the term, before offering a polite, noncommittal nod.
"I see..."
She seemed to consider his words for a moment. They aligned with what Yorna-sama had often told her, though she hadn't been accused of being 'unserious' in quite some time.
Gojo watched her think in silence before shrugging to himself. He wasn't a fan of people who took themselves too seriously—he much preferred those who could match his energy. Still, the Six Eyes told him Tanza's discipline wasn't just an act; it was a necessity.
Be it professionalism or something else, he wasn't going to pry. Not yet, anyway.
Then, he realized he was forgetting something obvious.
"Ah, right." Gojo snapped his fingers, causing Tanza's ear to twitch as she looked toward him. "Where's Meili at?"
Tanza turned her gaze back to the path ahead, guiding him through a sharp left turn. They passed expensive tapestries and artifacts that wouldn't look out of place in a museum.
"Meili-sama is likely still conversing with Yorna-sama. She is quite... talkative. Not that it is a bad thing, of course," Tanza explained evenly. "She spoke of the two of you being pursued through the city. However, despite Yorna-sama's visible anger at the news, Meili-sama refused to expand on the identity of your attacker."
Gojo hummed, fairly impressed.
Not a bad move, Meili.
She had some amount of brains to make up for her current lack of firepower thankfully. Based on how it wasn't being mentioned, she also didn't quite bring up the fact that he was turned into a child.
They were safe in the castle for now, and the old geezer, Olbart, seemed to be keeping his distance. By keeping her mouth shut, they both held onto leverage. If she spilled the beans that a Divine General had attacked them, it might force a political conflict, something that Gojo definitely did not want to be a part of.
"She was very grateful, too," Tanza continued. "Other than a few minor bruises and scrapes, she was practically unharmed. Her ability to drag you to the castle played a significant part in keeping you alive."
Figures, that.
Gojo thought. If Meili had taken the same damage he had, she'd be dead. And if she were dead, he would have bled out in the street, a rather pitiful end for Satoru Gojo of all people.
"Hmm... well, aside from that annoying reality check, I was already pretty beat up beforehand," Gojo muttered, waving a hand dismissively. "None of this would've happened if I were in top form—but enough excuses."
He looked up at her. "How long was I out?"
He asked mostly out of curiosity, but he could feel his cursed energy—and his body—had stabilized significantly.
Tanza glanced to her side, her eyes meeting the unnatural blue of his Six Eyes.
"——Three days. I must admit, I was surprised to see you awake so soon, given the severity of your wounds."
"Heh~ well, I'm Satoru Gojo, you see? Of course I'd wake up."
Tanza didn't react to the arrogance, as if she had been fully prepared for it.
"Hmph. Zero reaction? Tough crowd," Gojo teased. "So, what did Meili say about me while I was sleeping?"
Tanza didn't miss a beat.
"'Arrogant. Cocky. Stupid. Annoying.'"
Gojo gasped, clutching his chest and staggering back as if shot.
"My heart! My pure, golden heart!" He wiped a fake tear. "It aches! To think she'd say such things about the hero who saved her life... shame on her!"
Tanza exhaled sharply through her nose—the closest thing to a laugh he was going to get.
As they conversed, the deer-girl guided him to the upper echelons of the Crimson Lapis Castle. The architecture began to shift, reminding Gojo of the Gojo Clan estate back home. It wasn't the western-style masonry typical of fantasy novels; it was distinctly Japanese. Vermilion wood, sliding doors, open-air corridors.
It made sense. Tanza was wearing a kimono too, after all.
"We have arrived."
Tanza gestured politely toward the entrance of a grand atrium.
It wasn't an overly large room, but the density of power inside hit Gojo instantly. His Six Eyes locked onto the figure at the far end of the hall.
Tanza bowed her head low.
"Gojo-sama has awoken. I have brought him as you requested, Yorna-sama."
The woman in question, Yorna Mishigure, gave Tanza a nod of approval. A kiseru pipe rested loosely in her hand, a thin trail of purple smoke curling from her lips. Her smile remained fixed—gentle, yet commanding.
She sat with one eye closed, her cheek resting against her palm in a pose that radiated a charming, almost seductive lethargy. Her tall, slender frame was draped in a vibrant floral kimono, and her hair faded from white to a brilliant orange at the tips.
Another demi-human. And a powerful one.
"I am glad to see you are awake, Gojo-san," Yorna purred, her voice like velvet. "I hope little Tanza didn't give you too much trouble?"
The allure in her voice, the way she held herself with absolute confidence and maternal warmth, would be enough to swoon any man in the Empire.
Except Satoru Gojo of course.
He merely smiled, his eyes narrowing slightly in interest. The Six Eyes alerted him in a similar way to how it did with Olbart—the energy radiating off her was immense, a vitality that seemed to link her to the very castle itself. It was hard to describe.
She's pretty strong too... are all of these Divine General's like that?
He pushed the thought aside. It was probably the wrong time to be sizing up his savior, but the battle maniac deep inside him couldn't help but twitch in excitement.
"Trouble?" Gojo grinned, stepping into the room. "Nah. Me and Tanza-chan were just getting along just fine~!"
"I am relieved. I must admit, my schedule has been consumed by meetings with various envoys, so you were rather fortunate to catch me during a lull."
Yorna spoke swiftly, her gaze shifting toward the dark blue-haired girl standing nearby.
Meili huffed, stepping forward with her hands on her hips.
"You're finally awa~ke! And so fast, to~o..."
"Hmph!" Gojo whipped his head to the side, crossing his arms dramatically. "I don't want to see you! You really hurt my delicate feelings, you know? Calling me all those mean things behind my back... have some class!"
"—Wha?"
Meili's head snapped toward Tanza.
"You to~ld him?!"
"I apologize, Meili-sama. I had no other choice in the matter," Tanza replied, her voice devoid of guilt.
Yorna seemed thoroughly amused by the scene. Her smile widened, eyes crinkling with genuine warmth.
"Oh my... well, Meili also said some rather charming things about you, little one," Yorna teased, watching from the corner of her eye as Meili's expression crumbled into despair. "She spoke about how 'cool' you looked, and that if you weren't injured, you would have totally—"
"Wa~it! Hold on! That's private info~rmation!" Meili shrieked, her face flushing. "His head is already big eno~ugh, don't make it wo~rse!"
"Heh. Regardless of that," Yorna chuckled softly. "I must admit, I was in a rather foul mood until recently. But seeing children acting as children should, right here in my castle... it makes my heart swell."
She spoke with such sincerity that Gojo knew it couldn't be a lie. That strange energy he could visualize radiated from her pulsed with genuine affection. This woman really was just like this.
Though, being referred to as a 'child' still grated on him. At least she hadn't patted him on the head yet.
"Hmm~ I'm glad my existence brings joy to the masses," Gojo said, tilting his head. "But a bad mood? Why were you in a bad mood?"
Yorna lowered her kiseru. She tapped the embers out into a tray, realizing belatedly that smoking in a room full of injured children was a foolish oversight.
Then, she shook her head gently.
"Yes. The child here, Meili-san, spoke of what happened after you arrived in my city. I cannot help but offer my sincerest apologies. I pride myself on the hospitality of Chaosflame... to think my people would attack two lost children is shameful."
As Gojo had suspected, Meili hadn't told them about the shrinking. She had kept the details vague.
Is this woman an angel or something? Jeez.
Gojo rubbed his chin, relaxing into the conversation.
"Ah, yup~ that old geezer was really persistent, you know? But anyway, how's Meili been treating you? Hopefully, she hasn't been too much of a pest."
Meili's brows furrowed, and she stomped her foot.
"Hmph! I'll have yo~u kno~w, I've been no~thing but the best guest a person co~uld have!"
"Pfft—"
Gojo slapped his knee, a hand flying to cover his mouth as he tried—and failed—to suppress a laugh. He broke into a mad cackle, much to Meili's dismay.
"AHAHAHA! Give me a break! You're only fooling yourself, Meili!"
"Why yo~u little..."
Yorna watched the scene in silence. It reminded her of the bickering between siblings, a joyful noise she rarely heard in these halls. She almost let the moment pass, until her mind replayed the first half of the white-haired boy's sentence.
That old geezer.
Her brows furrowed slightly. Her left eye opened fully, the playful atmosphere in the room instantly growing heavy. She leaned forward, her presence demanding immediate attention.
"What was that you said, child? If you could repeat that, I would greatly appreciate it."
"Huh? About Meili? Or about the old man...?"
Gojo froze.
—Ah, crap.
So much for holding onto leverage. He'd gotten just a bit too comfortable it would seem. Though even then, making such a foolish oversight wasn't exactly common for him, does this transformation into an infantized state do more than just change how he looks on the outside?
"An old man..." Yorna muttered. Her eyes drifted to the side in thought before snapping back to fixate on Gojo. "Could you describe his appearance?"
Guess the cat's out of the bag. No point in lying to her now.
"Hmmm..." Gojo tapped his chin, feigning deep thought. "Well, he looks like your typical respectful elder, I guess. Wears a weird ninja-looking outfit. Real short. Wrinkly. And he has eyebrows that go on for miles."
Yorna's hand clenched against the armrest of her chair, the wood creaking under the pressure.
"...Tch. And here I thought that man possessed at least a modicum of dignity. It seems I was mistaken..."
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, he's probably long gone. And I don't exactly blame you for what he did, either."
Gojo said it casually, though he had no way of knowing if it was true. It was a guess—a calculated attempt to lower the temperature in the room.
Yorna sighed, the visible tension in her shoulders easing slightly at his words. However, while the boy's forgiveness was welcome, the reality of the situation was not.
"I thank you, child. But I should have been more vigilant regardless. It is my duty to keep those in my city safe... you were very fortunate that little Meili here possessed the strength to drag you to my doorstep."
She shook her head, leaning back into her throne and crossing one leg over the other with regal grace.
"Olbart Dunkelkenn... I certainly won't forgive this easily..." she murmured.
It was barely a whisper, likely inaudible to Meili, but Gojo heard it clearly. More than that, the Six Eyes saw the spike in her mana—a flare of genuine, protective fury.
"Regardless of that..." Yorna's expression softened as she looked toward her attendant. "If you two aren't in a rush to leave Chaosflame, I would appreciate it if you could continue being friendly with Tanza. She is far too serious for her own good, you see. I am sure she would appreciate friends her own age."
Meili grinned, leaning forward. "Well, we're pretty much already friends, I'd say. Right, Go~jo?"
Gojo hummed, tilting his head back. He didn't really do many friends—not on a whim like this, anyway. But considering their situation...
"Mmm, sure! Why not?" He flashed a grin. "I'm pretty curious about what this city is like, anyway. Especially when there isn't an active manhunt going on for us."
He gestured vaguely with his hand.
"We came here in a slightly... let's call it 'unorthodox' way. So, the locals weren't exactly rolling out the red carpet."
Yorna tapped a finger against her chin, her eyes lighting up with recognition.
"Ah. I believe I did hear a report about that recently. Something about two people who 'fell from the sky and crash-landed in the street'?"
Gojo shrugged.
"Weird stuff happens all the time, you know? It wasn't exactly a fun ride."
Yorna's smile flickered, replaced by a look of maternal sympathy.
"No... I suppose it wouldn't be. That whole situation must have been frightening for you children, especially with that old bas—" She caught herself, clearing her throat delicately. "With that old man chasing after you."
She offered them a warm, reassuring look.
"But you do not need to keep up such vigilance around me, or within these walls. You may feel free to stay here for as long as you please. I do not mind in the slightest."
Gojo blinked, caught off guard by the purity of her kindness.
Under normal circumstances, he would be skeptical. In the world of Jujutsu, and certainly in this cutthroat Empire, altruism was usually a mask for something else. Nobody was this kind without expecting a return on investment.
Yet, the Six Eyes refused to let him doubt her. The micro-expressions on her face—there was no deception. It was unnatural. It was irritating. And for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to hate it.
"I am quite powerful, despite my appearance," Yorna said with a playful wink, flexing a slender arm. "I will make sure to beat up that scary old man for you two!"
"Uh... right..." Gojo muttered, tilting his head.
"Although, I am curious," Yorna continued, her tone shifting to one of genuine interest. "Even after everything bad that has happened to you here... what does this city look like through your eyes?"
Gojo fell silent, actually pondering the question.
"I think the city itself is ni~ce!" Meili chirped, swinging her legs. "Just no~t what happened to us in it."
Gojo eventually huffed, scratching the back of his head.
"I think I agree with Meili. The city itself has a good vibe. Although..." His eyes narrowed slightly behind his bangs. "I can't compare it to many other places in Vollachia yet, but I'm guessing this Empire isn't exactly welcoming to demi-humans, is it?"
He asked the question casually, but his mind was sharp. His only other reference point was Priestella, and that place had been a disaster. But here, the segregation felt systemic.
Yorna's expression turned solemn. She nodded slowly.
"You are correct, child. The Empire is harsh to those who are different. However, unlike the rest of Vollachia, I do not subscribe to the Empire's belief that 'the strong devour the weak.'"
She straightened up, her presence filling the room with a warm, undeniable weight.
"I believe that the strong exist for a reason. It is the duty of the strong to protect the weak."
"———"
The air in the room seemed to freeze.
Gojo's lips pursed into a thin, hard line. His brows furrowed, casting a shadow over his eyes. The playful, arrogant child was gone in an instant, replaced by something very different, something much colder and serious.
It was evident to everyone—even Meili—that the atmosphere had shifted violently.
"——Child?"
"Even if..." Gojo cut her off, his voice low. "Even if it means the only thing waiting for you is failure? Even if you can't actually achieve that massive, idealistic goal? Even if it means your death?"
Meili stared at him, unnerved. "Gojo?"
"Quiet, Meili. I'm asking Yorna."
He didn't look at the blue-haired girl. His gaze was locked onto the Fox-woman, searching for a crack in her demeanor.
Yorna seemed surprised by the sudden intensity, but she didn't flinch. She met his gaze head-on, her answer immediate and resolute.
"Yes. Even if failure is the most likely outcome. Not because I wish to fail, but because of the small—perhaps even insurmountable—chance that my actions here will bring about change. If I can change the Empire for my people, then the risk is irrelevant."
Gojo stared at her. The words echoed in his skull, overlapping with a voice from a summer long ago.
"Listen, Satoru. Jujutsu exists to protect non-sorcerers."
"I just don't understand," Gojo whispered, his voice tight. "What is the point of going that far? What could possibly drive you to such lengths for something that might be impossible? For people who are just... weak?"
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then, Yorna smiled.
It wasn't a smile of arrogance or pity. It was a smile of absolute, unwavering devotion. And it looked so damn familiar that it made Gojo want to scream.
"It is love, child."
She spread her arms slightly, as if embracing the air itself.
"My love for the people of Chaosflame. Like how a mother loves their child, for those unfortunate enough to be born without power, in a world that hates them simply for existing. To bring change to a world filled with such scorn... to protect those who cannot decide their own fate..."
She spoke with absolute normality. No hesitation. No doubt. It wasn't just confidence; it was a fundamental truth of her existence.
"That is why."
"———"
Gojo's eyes flared, the brilliant blue swirling with a storm of emotions. He didn't care about the confused looks from Meili or the wary stance Tanza had taken.
All he could see was the path she was walking. A path paved with good intentions that usually ended in a pool of blood.
"I see..."
Satoru Gojo stood up abruptly. He turned his back to them, lowering his head so his bangs obscured his eyes completely.
"——I need some time to think."
Without waiting for a dismissal, he walked out of the atrium, his small footsteps echoing heavily in the silence he left behind.