Chapter 9

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The essence of that question was—do you have any unfinished wishes?

“My wish? Why are you asking me that?” Takizawa Sei checked the subway line for his return trip. The morning’s incident had already been suitably reported. “I don’t really want anything at the moment. Are you planning to give me a big gift?”

“Not that kind,” Satoru Gojo said, looking at the young man with his clear blue eyes, who seemed rather indifferent. “More like life ideals, things that absolutely must be accomplished... something like that.”

“Haha, am I really that delicate and sensitive?” Takizawa Sei chuckled. He thought his character was quite easygoing and adaptable. Even when he was with Gojo, he hadn’t shown any grand ambitions. “If I had any, it would have been long ago. As of now, my wishes have already been fulfilled.”

His voice was gentle, his gaze pointedly resting on Gojo, practically saying: I got myself out of the grave just for you, aren’t you moved?

“……”

Gojo didn’t know what he was thinking, but he lowered his head and smiled. Beneath that smile, he almost reached out to clutch his chest.

The dull ache in his heart was so fierce he struggled to breathe.

How could he have no wishes?

If it weren’t for obsession, why would he linger in this body among the living?

Takizawa seemed so calm.

He showed no confusion about his situation, no lingering questions about the past—except that he regarded Gojo as his anchor. He was like a drifting breath, a lost soul unaware of where he came from or where he was going, a conglomerate of countless curses—he had returned carrying an immense, overwhelming grudge.

“Don’t you have anyone you want to kill?” Gojo asked.

“Huh?” Takizawa was puzzled. “Who do I want to kill?”

If he wanted someone dead, couldn’t he handle it himself? Why talk with such a heavy, vengeful tone as if plotting something grave?

Takizawa was always meticulous in repaying grievances. When he joined, he had undergone professional training and learned from various seniors. There was a saying: don’t sacrifice yourself in vain, don’t make your children feel guilty. Although not entirely fitting, the gist was clear—Takizawa was first and foremost himself, then Takizawa who cared for Gojo. He could be ruthless for Gojo’s sake but would never let Gojo feel suffocated or twisted. Takizawa always returned any losses with fierce retaliation. If the opponent’s power was too great for him to touch, he would let Gojo fight on his behalf. These were all minor matters, but when Gojo helped Takizawa get even, his mood visibly improved.

His personal growth required the determination and confidence to protect those important to him. He not only needed to be loved but also to give love. As Gojo’s partner and tool, Takizawa accepted this calmly. The value of receiving love and giving love were equal.

Gojo said, “You said you forgot how you died. Don’t you want revenge?”

Takizawa instinctively retorted, “Didn’t you get revenge for me?”

Seeing Gojo suddenly speechless, he feigned heartache. “What? You didn’t get revenge for me?!”

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“...I did.”

Gojo paused, then suddenly grabbed Takizawa’s hand. “I’ll take you to dig up his grave!”

Takizawa commented, “That’s not very moral.”

“Does morality matter now?”

“Actually, what surprises me more is that he even has a grave.”

Gojo hadn’t gone as far as erasing someone’s household registration, so Takizawa was somewhat relieved.

“Digging up a grave is pointless, and besides, I really don’t care much about that person.” Even with some memory loss, Takizawa didn’t feel heartbroken. He quickly threw himself into his next mission, keeping busy.

“What about the others who hurt you?”

“There are plenty who did," Takizawa smiled. "Have you forgotten how many ambushes we’ve been through? Countless kidnappings, vendettas, intrigues. Those days were truly thrilling. Thanks to you, the prized one, my strength grew by leaps and bounds. I also owe thanks to those common enemies. Though unintentionally, the hardships helped me break into your heart quickly, definitely because I fought tooth and nail to protect you.”

A teenage Gojo hearing this would cheekily flash a “My heart unlocked” gesture over his chest and enthusiastically agree, eyebrows furrowed in exasperation. “Exactly! Our bond was forged in blood, and Sei took it step by step, running and barging in!”

He loved showing off his closeness with Takizawa, never hiding how much he cared. In the end, he would wear a solemn expression and say, “Sei, you lost.”

Suguru Geto would want to curse him every time. “I’m not on the track, thank you very much.”

Nobara Kugisaki would clap coldly at the side, sincerely saying, “You’re leaking oil, Gojo.”

But now, Gojo was separated from Takizawa by the gulf between life and death.

Whenever he heard those words, he would veil that memory in hazy, brilliant colors, tinged with an inescapable shadow.

“Gojo, aren’t you too tired?” Takizawa pressed the back of his hand to Gojo’s cheek, checking his temperature. “Is the pressure of being the strongest of this era weighing too heavily?”

Why did Gojo seem so jittery?

Gojo furrowed his brows, and Takizawa inexplicably felt he looked a bit wronged.

“Do you really have to run away from Daifuku?”

“...You’ve gotten clingy.”

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But Gojo had always liked to act spoiled, just masked under his arrogant, noisy exterior.

Takizawa was deeply moved. This meant Gojo’s heart hadn’t changed! He was still his closest and most intimate friend!

“I have a night shift tonight,” Takizawa said.

Both he and Gojo understood the trouble that would arise if anyone discovered Takizawa alive again. Staying close to Gojo would eventually lead to being summoned for questioning. Although Gojo had influence at the top, it couldn’t guarantee that no other incidents would occur. Takizawa had already created an identity for himself, which was currently the best disguise.

At six in the evening, after brainstorming all day with Gojo, Takizawa waited for the subway, and of course, Gojo accompanied him.

Takizawa’s mood was bright and cheerful, but Gojo’s was uncertain.

When the train arrived, Takizawa stepped inside and said goodbye to Gojo. The scenery before his eyes inexplicably blurred and grew oppressive.

Gojo waved and smiled lightly.

...That smile was fake.

Takizawa realized this.

It was silent, breaking down, yet suddenly returned to natural normalcy.

Until the doors closed, Takizawa could feel the intense gaze of Gojo’s Six Eyes.

He sighed, feeling that something was off.

The cursed energy information about Takizawa had become thin, as if Gojo had only just come back to his senses. He slowly lowered his hand.

“In the end, you still didn’t say what your wish was...”

The young man’s voice drifted in the air, speaking to himself.

“Forget it... I pretty much know anyway.”

Gojo dialed a number. “Come out and meet me, Sei. There’s something... yes, something very important.”

In his mind was Takizawa’s seemingly carefree smile.

Just thinking about you suffering so deeply you cannot rest, caught between fierce palpitations and the ecstasy of reunion, also feeling utterly powerless, as if drowning.