Chapter 16

By the time Yuta Okkotsu was brought back, it was nearly ten o’clock. Seiji Takizawa helped him change clothes and prepared a hot towel, skillfully wiping away the traces of his disheveled state bit by bit.

He had gotten into trouble at school. When Takizawa and Satoru Gojo arrived, the scene was already chaotic.

The black-haired boy sat slumped in a chair, his eyes still red-rimmed from crying. Rika’s rampage had also drained his spirit; he looked utterly exhausted. As Takizawa prepared hot water for him, Yuta leaned back against the chair and unknowingly fell asleep.

That level of trust—being able to relax as if returning home—spoke volumes about their bond.

Gojo pinched the flesh at the corner of his lip and stared thoughtfully at Yuta for a long moment.

“Unexpected...” he murmured, a curious smile flickering across his face before flattening into a straight line.

“What is it? You’ve noticed this kid’s potential too, haven’t you?” Takizawa lowered his voice.

“Potential aside,” Gojo said, “given his condition and the recent record of him injuring others due to a curse, the higher-ups won’t let this slide easily.”

Takizawa’s expression tightened. “I said the death penalty was just to scare him. Do you really think they’d hand down such a sentence to a child?”

“To a child?” Gojo’s motion faltered slightly. He murmured the phrase as if lost in thought, then suddenly fixed Takizawa with a penetrating gaze, his tone rising with a mix of sarcasm and disbelief. “Are you saying they wouldn’t do that to someone so young?”

Takizawa pinched Gojo’s cheek. “Stop making that crazy face and speak plainly.”

Gojo looked as if he had been holding back for a long time before finally suppressing the tumult within him. He grabbed Takizawa’s hand; the familiar fit of their knuckles and the warmth rekindled a long-forgotten sense of closeness.

“…Seems you really have forgotten everything.”

“...” Takizawa’s tone was sincere. “I was wrong. I must have been cursed by a rotten orange just now, to think they have any mercy.”

He ran his hand through Gojo’s messy hair, silently cursing him for forgetting something again.

“How long have you known him?”

“Just over a week.” Takizawa carefully lifted Yuta, whose nearly adult frame was no burden. He even managed to maintain an absurdly steady parallel movement. Leaning against the bedroom doorway, Gojo silently watched as the young man tended to Yuta with meticulous care.

After closing the door, Gojo rolled his eyes impatiently. “Ugh, the gentle, mature adult~”

“??” Takizawa was struck by how much this resembled the annoying Gojo from their college days. He marveled at Gojo’s terrible temper, yet strangely found it endearing, because—

“What’s wrong? You want to feel my gentleness too?”

It seemed his teasing was just a way to get attention—a routine Takizawa knew all too well.

Back in college, Takizawa would immediately open his arms and sweep Gojo up horizontally. Gojo would either struggle shyly or play along by wrapping his arms around Takizawa’s neck. Either way, Takizawa would laugh heartily amid the commotion.

They spoke softly as they made their way to the living room, then sank into a brief silence on the sofa.

Gojo opened his hands. “Come on.”

Takizawa declined outright. “No, there’s a difference between occasionally falling asleep in each other’s arms and deliberately doing so.”

“…Is there really a difference?”

Takizawa moved the low table aside and spread out a spare futon, then plopped down.

Gojo switched off the lights and lay down beside him.

Even doing nothing but simply being together brought them a profound sense of peace and comfort.

Takizawa’s eyes welled with tears again. Memories of the turmoil after breaking free from the system flashed through his mind—the pain, the lingering insecurity—all left behind. The present moment was enough to fill him with satisfaction.

A warm presence pressed close. Without hesitation, Takizawa reached out to brush Gojo’s fine, slightly long forehead hair back. His palm rested on Gojo’s smooth forehead, a subtle yet unoffensive sense of control radiating in the darkness, their gazes locking—fiery and direct—in the space between his palm and Gojo’s Cursed Eye.

“Gojo, does my death order cause you great pain?” It was an unspoken topic between them, never openly discussed.

Gojo stared unblinking. “What nonsense are you talking about?”

“But I’m not in pain,” Takizawa said softly. “So don’t suffer for me. The one who leaves first actually abandons everything, while the one left behind bears a lifelong longing. Since what’s done cannot be undone, all we can do is slowly wear ourselves down.”

Slowly, Takizawa moved his hand to the back of Gojo’s head, pressing their foreheads together. “No matter what you’re worrying about, I want you to know that right now, I am the freest person.”

“...”

Gojo’s breath deepened.

He had always believed Takizawa’s words without question.

But Takizawa could lie to him, burying the truth deep within. If it weren’t for circumstances that forced it out, he would have continued hiding it.

Takizawa would sacrifice himself for Gojo. That much Gojo knew well.

He laughed lightly, a carefree sound. “Alright, I get it. Do you really think I’m the sort to bottle up my feelings? You act like you want to talk until dawn.”

“Well, that’s not entirely impossible. After all, you’re leaving at dawn.” Takizawa sighed. “It feels strange because I used to follow you everywhere. Even when I argued with that rotten orange, I was there—though I pretended to be obedient, it didn’t stop me from tearing them apart afterward whenever I recounted the confrontation to you.”

Indeed, Gojo had to deal with Yuta’s situation. Following the ruthless approach from above, Yuta would be discovered and captured tonight. Takizawa at least ensured he had a stable night’s rest—for the perhaps cruel future awaiting him.

“I’m going to check his identity,” Gojo said, kicking his legs in frustration at having to deal with the higher-ups again. “But it seems the kid himself isn’t even clear—it's not Rika who cursed him, but he cursed Rika. Probably because of a strong obsession with ‘refusing death,’ Rika’s soul is trapped within the curse.”

Finally, he added, “His power is impressive. As for Rika... she has the potential to become a Special Grade.”

“Realizing ‘I cursed the other’ is undoubtedly the key. Sigh, it’s another sorcerer’s brainstorming session.” Takizawa turned over. “I, who only know how to wield cursed tools, really have it easy.”

Gojo snorted softly.

It was a laugh, or perhaps a display of confidence.

Suddenly he complained, “Why did you turn your face away?”

“Sleepy. Going to sleep.”

“Don’t you want to see Gojo-sensei’s first waking face?”

“What’s that? Gojo, don’t push my affection into the negatives.”

***

The next morning, Gojo officially met Yuta Okkotsu.

The handsome teacher introduced himself with flair and deliberately created a deep atmosphere to tease Yuta a bit.

Yuta’s gaze frequently flicked to Takizawa beside him. Without Takizawa’s presence, he probably wouldn’t have even understood Gojo’s bluff.

It was also because he trusted Takizawa that he decided to go with Gojo.

***

They went to the street corner, partly to conceal Takizawa’s residence. Standing in front of the supervisor’s car, Yuta hesitated and asked, “Rika... she hurt someone…”

“Ah, that...” Takizawa rubbed his hair. “She’s already been taken to the hospital. They’re fine. You did your best to control Rika. Don’t worry about the medical bills or what comes next. And as for Gojo...” The young man smiled. “He might seem unreliable, but doesn’t he also give you a sense of security, like you can entrust everything to him?”

Security…

Yuta glanced at Gojo, the Special Grade of the era, who smiled brightly at him.

Yuta quickly looked away.

No, the security clearly came from you.

He thought silently.

“I’m off now, Seiji. I’ll come back to find you once this is over~” Gojo blew a kiss to Takizawa. “I’ll be back immediately~”

The supervising officer nearly popped his eyes out, and Takizawa bristled in response to that move.

His hand quicker than his mind, he sent a flying kiss back to Gojo with a cold expression, like a robot following orders.

“Take good care of Yuta, or I’ll storm the rotten oranges’ hideout.”

***

Perhaps moments after they left, Takizawa received a message from Jinpei Matsuda. Lately, Matsuda had been unusually quiet, sending fewer messages—maybe he was in a bad mood.

Why was he upset?

The message was nothing special. Takizawa checked his social media updates and sent him a location share.

He had pushed back all his part-time jobs recently. Since those were daily or weekly paid, suddenly having no shifts left him free.

It was normal to reach out to a friend at such a time.

He saw Matsuda open the location share, but soon close it again, as if it had been a slip of the finger.

After a while, Matsuda asked, [What’s up?]

[Coming to find you.]

Takizawa sent the message as he boarded a train headed for the cemetery.

The journey wasn’t short. The cemetery was in the suburbs. When Takizawa got off at noon, the streets were nearly empty. His steps slowed until he stopped.

It was no illusion.

Takizawa lowered his eyes, feeling irritated.

He didn’t know how or by whom he had been targeted.

[“Born from darkness, blacker than black, filth and impurity, all shall be purified.”]

A black veil spread across his vision. Too far to run, he swiftly sent a message to Gojo with one hand while clutching the cursed tool he never parted with in the other.