Chapter 25

...Huh?

Takizawa Sei’s mind went blank for about three seconds.

"No, hold on, be clear—what do you mean by 'gasping for air'... That phrasing really doesn't sound like you. It's not like I was holding my breath back at the Gojo estate." Forced to use the same terminology that made his stomach turn, Takizawa tried his best to interpret and explain, leaning on the cultural level he’d attained through his experience as a tool for others: "Satoru, do you think I came back because of some pathetic nonsense like that?"

Under Takizawa’s glare, Gojo Satoru said nonchalantly, "That’s one reason, I suppose."

*One reason? There are others??*

Takizawa asked with a serious expression, "What is going on in that head of yours?"

"Thinking about you~"

Takizawa choked. "Don't change the subject."

The young man before him wore a childish expression. Takizawa let out a breath, realizing with a clarity he’d never felt before: "Satoru, do you think I hate the Gojo clan?"

He used the word "hate."

Gojo Satoru’s lips quirked—a micro-expression laced with irony and a heavy, self-deprecating certainty that made Takizawa deeply uncomfortable. "Don't you?"

"Of course not," Takizawa raised his voice. "This is the family you were born into!"

Gojo Satoru, who had been about to add something else, stilled his expression. Realizing something, he convinced himself with surprising ease not to dwell on the topic. "Fine, fine. It *is* something Sei would say, after all~"

Takizawa knitted his brows. For a moment, he felt as though the Gojo Satoru before him was also carrying a curse—not a visible, hideous cursed spirit, but one buried deep in the heart, bound to the very soul.

"Let's go. Let's look elsewhere."

Takizawa was led to a familiar courtyard. Gojo Satoru’s demeanor and behavior were no different from usual, making Takizawa wonder if the obscurity and heaviness from moments ago had been an illusion. He said, still brooding, "See? Where was I 'gasping for air'? This place is my favorite place to be."

The young master Gojo’s courtyard—the paradise where their feelings for each other had blossomed!

Gojo Satoru said, "Talking so sweetly will make people suspect you're intentionally trying to coax me. See if there’s anything you need to take; you’re coming to live in the dorms at the technical college with me now. The decor here hasn’t changed, and neither has your room."

Takizawa was surprised. "It hasn't changed? Not in all these years?"

"…Yeah."

Takizawa was suddenly overwhelmed with a complex mix of emotions. "Satoru, this really makes it seem like you’re deeply in love with me!"

He dashed off to his room, completely failing to notice Gojo Satoru’s sudden stiffness behind him.

There weren't many things in Takizawa’s room because the Gojo clan had imposed so many rigid rules upon him. The first was that he must remain within arm's reach whenever the Six Eyes prodigy was resting. And since the young master Gojo was extremely possessive (in Takizawa’s words), he had moved his essentials into Gojo Satoru’s room within a few days, and within three months, they had gone from sleeping in separate quilts to sharing one—the reason being that his own quilt had been burned by Gojo while it was out drying.

Gojo Satoru could have just given an order to have new bedding sent over, but for some reason that day, he suddenly wanted to experience what it felt like to sleep with someone else.

Perhaps it was because Takizawa was someone with a very warm embrace—something he had sensed during their training.

When Takizawa pushed open his door, he felt a moment of vertigo, a sense of unreality like time travel. He stood at the threshold, hesitating for three seconds before even stepping inside.

"You’ve actually been keeping this place tidy..."

Gojo Satoru walked up beside him, his tone casual. "Yeah. Wouldn't you do the same? If it were cruel to hold onto memories after someone died, that would be far too heartless."

He said it so lightly, yet Takizawa could grasp the unspeakable bitterness beneath. "That’s true. If you died before me, I’d probably become the head of the Gojo clan just to honor you by 'living as you.'"

…?

Realizing he had accidentally let out something profound, Takizawa blurted out, "No! I was joking, don't read into that!"

Gojo Satoru paused. "…I wasn't reading into it."

Takizawa whispered, "…It's just because you’ve been acting weird lately. My gut tells me your brain is full of mud."

"…Sei, do you really want to spar with me?"

"It’s not out of the question. I’d like to see my newly developed domain collide with your [Unlimited Void]." Takizawa was eager to try.

"Your brain would break," Gojo Satoru said, sinking into Takizawa’s beanbag chair, appearing as relaxed and at ease as if he were in his own room. "Because your body is still far too fragile compared to a cursed spirit."

"That’s true."

Takizawa pulled his suitcase from under the cupboard and began packing the things he needed to take. It must be said, he didn't have many valuable items. Gojo Satoru had been lying on the sofa, propping his head up, but as he watched, he straightened up. "Why are you packing that thing?"

In Takizawa’s hand was a curse doll.

The doll's features were crude but iconic: white hair, blue eyes—it was clearly Gojo Satoru.

Gojo Satoru’s expression darkened. "Isn't this thing bad luck?"

Takizawa squeezed the doll's belly, which was filled with straw. "It’s already useless, but it looks quite like you."

"Throw it away."

Gojo Satoru used a cold, hard tone of command.

How strange. He hadn't destroyed it for all these years.

Takizawa was silent for a moment, then took out a lighter and burned the doll to ashes.

As the grey-black smoke rose, Takizawa’s emerald eyes shimmered. He stared steadily at Gojo Satoru and said calmly, "It’s burned, Satoru."

***

After that, Takizawa enjoyed a long period of peace. He had originally intended to move into his old dorm at the technical college, but upon arriving, he discovered the room had been annexed by Gojo Satoru and expanded into a luxury suite.

Takizawa had no objections, especially when he saw Soba inside.

His adopted long-haired white cat!

Soba didn't quite remember Takizawa, but it wasn't shy. Takizawa hugged it and gave it a good petting, causing Daifuku, who was circling his feet, to whine anxiously as if he had fallen out of favor.

Takizawa hugged the dog’s head to comfort him, sighing that life had become so easy it felt like retirement.

He held the title of teacher, and on weekdays, he would train the students. Perhaps due to the "cursed spirit buff" he carried, the students fought for their lives during sparring sessions, as if they’d be swallowed whole by Takizawa if they were a second too slow.

Takizawa found it amusing, often putting on a villainous face during practice and skillfully provoking them. "Is this really all you’ve got? You’ve disappointed me to the core."

"Weren't you supposed to be so talented? If you can't even hold your blade properly, why be a jujutsu sorcerer? Just go home."

"Yuta, if you keep being so timid and afraid to attack, you’ll never improve."

The provocation was so intense that the students' temples throbbed. After being flipped onto the ground, they would pant and complain, "Where did he learn this skill for irritating people? He really is cut from the same cloth as Gojo-sensei; it’s super infuriating—!"

Takizawa, holding the weapon Gojo Satoru had given him, stood with a relaxed posture, his eyes full of arrogance, putting on quite a performance. "Still have time to chat? So this wasn't your limit after all. You’ll pay a heavy price for ignoring me."

Takizawa was unforgivingly strict when training them. Within a few days, the teenagers were exhausted and sprawled out on the floor. Yet, in his daily life, Takizawa was very gentle, making the contrast feel like a split personality.

"Takizawa-sensei..." Yuta Okkotsu lay on the grass, resting, and said weakly, "Why are you so keen on saying villain lines? Even if we know that’s not your true intention, these taunts... they still hurt a little."

Takizawa handed out the drinks he’d prepared, one for each. He casually ruffled Yuta’s hair. "If you can’t handle this, you’ll hear much worse if you ever run into a curse user."

"Do you have experience with that?"

"Yes, I deal with them often," Takizawa said. "As for being hurt... the fact that you feel hurt means you acknowledge these points. You are anxious and pained because you haven't reached your goals, and through this infinite pressure, you are forced to undergo metamorphosis. I don't believe in education through suffering, but I hope you can build an unbreakable psychological defense."

As soon as he finished speaking, Gojo Satoru chimed in, "Sei, you seem to be quite enthusiastic about being a teacher."

Takizawa shivered. "Satoru, you’re teleporting again. Is your cursed energy so vast that you can afford to squander it like that?"

"Exactly. If I can see you in the next second, why bother walking?" Gojo Satoru waved the bag he was carrying. Seeing this, the half-dead students on the ground all perked up. Gojo-sensei said excitedly, "Ta-da! Souvenirs!"

It was a tradition for jujutsu sorcerers to bring back gifts when traveling, and Gojo Satoru was quite generous.

Takizawa began rummaging through his gift bag without ceremony. Gojo Satoru never struggled with picking between two options; if he thought something suited Takizawa, he had been known to buy out an entire shop. But this time, Takizawa touched something he had never received before. "What is this?"

...A square jewelry box.

"A necklace, earrings, a ring? At this size, it couldn't be anything else..." Takizawa unwrapped the package and suddenly noticed several heads crowding over his shoulder. He turned around to find his students' eyes sparkling.

"…What are you looking at?" Takizawa covered the box with his palm.

"Stingy! What’s the harm in letting us see?"

Takizawa tucked the bag away and said decisively, "Class dismissed!"

Then, he sneakily pulled Gojo Satoru away.

Gojo Satoru was in a good mood. "What would have happened if you let them see?"

Takizawa: "They would have let out a long, drawn-out 'Oooooh~~~' in teasing. Haven't you noticed how much they love to speculate about our relationship?"

Seeing Gojo Satoru’s expression, Takizawa understood. "…So you’re actually quite keen on being the center of conversation."

"Do you hate it?"

"Of course not. It’s quite interesting. In a way, they are at an age where they are sensitive and curious about such things. It’s a unique kind of youth."

Exclaiming in an exaggerated tone, Takizawa opened the box.

Just as he had guessed, it was a ring. At a single glance, Takizawa deduced why Gojo Satoru had bought it: the ring was inlaid with a gemstone the exact color of his eyes, nestled perfectly within a silver single wing. The design was so exquisite that it must have cost enough to make Takizawa’s eyes pop out of his head.