Give her back . 彼女を返してください
12:20, 28 June 2025"Yep! I am pretty amazing like that."
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In the afterlife, there was nothing but an endless sky. The air was crisp, the wind gentle, carrying a familiar warmth—one that made Gojo feel as if he had stepped into an old memory rather than death itself.
He stood there, weightless, staring at the horizon where the sky melted into infinity. Then, a voice—light, teasing, yet filled with something unspoken.
"You're late, Satoru."
Gojo turned, and there he was—Geto Suguru, standing just a few feet away. His long black hair swayed slightly in the breeze, and he had that same knowing smile, the one that made Gojo feel like they were just two kids again, back at Jujutsu High, before everything had gone wrong.
And beside him—Haibara. The boy was grinning, eyes bright with the same unwavering optimism he always had, as if this was just another day, another mission, another moment in time that would never be lost.
Gojo exhaled, something deep in his chest tightening. For the first time in a long time, he wasn't holding back a grin or a laugh. He just stood there, looking at them, trying to memorize this moment even though he knew it would never fade.
"Man, I really lost, huh?" he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess I wasn't as strong as I thought."
Geto chuckled, shaking his head. "You were plenty strong, Satoru. That was never the problem."
Haibara nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! You did amazing, Gojo-san! You really went all out until the end."
Gojo felt something heavy settle in his chest, though he wasn't sure if it was regret or relief. He looked at Geto, at the friend he had lost long before death had taken him. There was no malice in Geto's eyes now, no weight of the choices that had pulled them apart. It was just them again.
"I saw your kids," Geto said softly. "You took care of them, huh?"
Gojo closed his eyes for a brief second. His kids.
Megumi, Yuji, Nobara ,Yuta, Maki, Toge .. Naomi.
He thought of Naomi, standing in the middle of that battlefield, her eyes filled with fire, with sorrow, with determination. He thought of Megumi, trapped in the body of the King of Curses, lost, suffering. He thought of everyone still fighting, still alive.
His kids.
"I did my best," Gojo murmured, his voice quieter than usual. "But it wasn't enough."
Geto smiled sadly. "It never is, is it?"
Gojo clenched his jaw, shaking his head. "No. It never is."
For the first time, the weight of everything—the battles, the losses, the burden of being 'the strongest'—felt distant. "I could rest here," Gojo mused, looking up at the sky. "Stay here with you guys, talk about dumb things again."
Geto's expression didn't change, but there was something knowing in his eyes.
"You could," he admitted. "But will you?"
Gojo didn't answer immediately. His gaze drifted, as if he could still see the battlefield, still feel the lingering threads of everything he left behind. And then—just for a second—he felt it. A pulse of something strong, something that shouldn't have been possible. Something that felt like his own power. Gojo's breath hitched, his Eyes flickering for a brief moment.
Naomi.
Gojo let out a slow breath, staring at the endless sky stretching before him. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to feel the peace that came with it. No weight on his shoulders. No expectations. No battles left to fight.
Just him, Geto, and Haibara—like it used to be.
Geto stood beside him, watching him carefully. "So? What are you thinking, Satoru?"
Gojo chuckled, but it lacked his usual arrogance. "I don't know."
Haibara sat down on the grass beneath them, tilting his head back. "It's nice here, huh? No fighting, no stress, just... quiet."
Gojo hummed in agreement. He hadn't realized how loud the world had been until now. Even when he was alive, his thoughts had never been silent. For a long moment, none of them spoke. It was almost like the old days—when they had time to just exist without the weight of being sorcerers pressing down on them.
Geto finally broke the silence. "You did well, Satoru."
Gojo scoffed, a bitter smile pulling at his lips. "Yeah? Doesn't feel like it."
"You protected as much as you could," Geto said, his voice softer now. "You gave them a fighting chance."
Gojo clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. "But was it enough?"
Geto gave him a knowing look. "You already know the answer to that, don't you?"
Gojo exhaled sharply. "I always thought I'd be the one to fix everything. If I just got stronger, if I just pushed myself further, no one would have to suffer." His voice dropped. "But people still died. Riko, you, Haibara..." His throat tightened. "And now me."
Haibara looked up at him, his bright eyes dimming. "You never could have saved everyone, Gojo-san."
Gojo let out a dry laugh. "That's what they all keep telling me." He glanced at Geto. "I just thought... if I was strong enough, I could make a world where they didn't have to go through what we did."
Geto sighed, crossing his arms. "And yet, you're here, talking to me instead."
Gojo turned away, his blue Eyes glowing faintly as he looked into the distance, as if he could still see them—his students, his family—still fighting.
Naomi. Megumi. Yuji. Yuta. Maki. Toge. The people who had become his reason to keep going after Geto was gone. The people who were still alive. He closed his eyes for a moment, listening. The faint pulse of energy from the living world had faded now. Whatever had called him back was gone.
They were still fighting. And now, it was their battle. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess this is it, then."
Geto raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Gojo turned to him, a real smile—soft, genuine—on his face. "I trust them."
Geto blinked. Haibara's eyes widened. Gojo laughed. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Big words coming from me." He let out a breath, something loosening in his chest. "But I do. I trust them to finish this. I trust them to win."
He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of everything lift.
"For the first time in my life..." His voice was quiet. "I don't need to be the strongest."
Geto's lips parted slightly, something unreadable flashing through his expression. Then, slowly, he smiled.
"Good," he said softly. "It's about time, Satoru."
Gojo chuckled, looking up at the endless sky. "Yeah..."
He let himself breathe. No regrets. No burdens. Just peace.
Gojo sighed, letting himself fall onto the grass, arms spread wide. The sky stretched endlessly above him, a soft, endless blue. He could stay like this forever. Maybe for the first time, he was allowed to rest.
Then, Geto's voice broke the silence. "Do you remember what you told me back then, Satoru?"
Gojo frowned slightly, turning his head to look at him. "Huh?" Geto wasn't smiling anymore. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes held something deep, something sharp. "You said you'd protect Naomi. No matter what."
Gojo's throat tightened.
"You told me that no matter how things turned out, no matter how I ended up... she'd be safe." Geto's voice didn't waver, but there was something raw underneath it. "That was the one thing you swore to me before we parted ways." His gaze darkened. "Was that a lie?"
Gojo sat up, his breath catching. "No, of course not—"
"Then why are you here?" Geto's voice was low, almost dangerous. "Why are you sitting here, acting like your job is done, when she's still out there?"
Gojo opened his mouth, but the words wouldn't come. Haibara spoke up then, his voice softer, but no less piercing. "Gojo-san... do you really think Naomi-chan can handle this alone?"
Gojo's fingers curled into the grass beneath him. Haibara tilted his head, smiling a little, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You always tried to carry everything by yourself, but in the end... you didn't die alone, did you?"
Gojo flinched.
"You had them," Haibara continued, glancing at Geto. "Your students. Your friends. Even in your last moments, you weren't alone." Geto took a step forward. "But she is." His eyes locked onto Gojo's. "You left her alone, Satoru."
Gojo's chest ached. Naomi. She had stood there, frozen in shock, her eyes wide with horror as his body fell. She had screamed his name. And he hadn't been there to answer. He clenched his fists, his breath coming out shakily. "I... I thought this was it. I thought this was where I was supposed to be."
Geto scoffed. "And who decided that?"
Gojo looked up sharply. Geto's expression was unreadable, but his voice was steady. "You said you trusted them to finish this. But trusting them doesn't mean abandoning them."
Gojo's breath hitched. Geto's gaze softened just slightly. "She still needs you, Satoru."
Haibara smiled. "They all do."
For a moment, Gojo could still hear it—Naomi's scream. The way she had broken in that moment. The way she had called for him, begged for him to come back. He had always told her he'd be there. That he'd always come back. Had that been a lie too?
His fingers trembled. His heart pounded. Then—
The sky cracked. A blinding light cut through the endless blue, and suddenly—he was falling.
Geto's voice echoed in his ears, one last time.
"It's not your time yet, Satoru."
Gojo's senses slowly returned to him, the weight of his own body sinking back into reality. His eyelids fluttered open, the ceiling above him unfamiliar yet painfully recognizable. The scent of antiseptic filled his nose, mingling with the distinct iron tang of blood. His fingers twitched slightly, then curled into the sheets beneath him.
He was... alive.
A groan escaped from nearby, and as his vision adjusted, he saw two exhausted figures slumped beside his bed—Shoko and Utahime.
Shoko's usually calm demeanor was absent, her head resting in her hands, shoulders heavy with exhaustion. Utahime, on the other hand, had her face buried in her arms, gripping the edge of the bed as if she'd collapse any second.
Gojo blinked a few times before smirking. "Man, I wake up from the dead, and you two look worse than me."
Utahime's head snapped up so fast she nearly fell off the chair. Shoko barely moved, though the sharp inhale she took spoke volumes.
There was silence.
Then—
"You absolute bastard!" Utahime shrieked, her voice cracking from exhaustion. She grabbed the nearest object—a clipboard—and whacked it against his arm.
Gojo hissed, recoiling. "Ouch! Hey, I just came back to life, y'know?"
"Exactly!" Utahime shouted, eyes burning. "You died ! Do you even know how hard we worked?! We were trying to bring you back for hours! HOURS, Gojo! And you just—" Her voice wavered, Tears forming in her eyes, her hands shaking.
Gojo softened, his teasing faltering as he truly looked at them.
Shoko exhaled, lifting her head at last. Her eyes, usually unreadable, were dark with exhaustion—and something else. Relief, maybe. Or something deeper. "You were gone, Satoru," she muttered. "We really thought we lost you."
Gojo swallowed hard. For the first time in his life, he wasn't sure what to say. He had seen Geto. Haibara. He had accepted death, accepted that his time was up— And yet, here he was.
A heavy silence filled the room, only the quiet hum of medical equipment breaking through.
Then, Shoko sighed, rubbing her temples. "Well, at least you're alive."
"Yep! I am pretty amazing like that." Gojo grinned.
Utahime looked like she was about to hit him again. But before she could, her expression twisted, something darker clouding her face.
"...Gojo," she murmured, voice unusually hesitant.
His grin faltered. Shoko exhaled through her nose, crossing her arms. "You need to know something." Gojo raised an eyebrow. "What, did someone die while I was—"
He stopped. Their expressions said everything. A sinking feeling settled in his chest. "...What happened?"
Utahime swallowed. "Sukuna." Gojo's heart pounded. "What about him?"
Shoko's gaze sharpened. "He took over Naomi."
Silence. Gojo's entire body tensed. His fingers curled into the sheets. For a moment, it was like his mind couldn't comprehend the words. Then— His breath hitched. His vision blurred at the edges, his pulse ringing in his ears.
Naomi. Sukuna took Naomi. His body, still weak from revival, felt unbearably heavy. But his mind—his heart—was racing. The last thing he saw before dying was Naomi's face.
And now— She was gone.
Sukuna stood there, a wicked grin stretching across Naomi's face, her usual warmth now twisted into something unrecognizable. His stolen body radiated overwhelming power—Naomi's limitless cursed energy merged with his own, an unstoppable force that now belonged to him, until there seemed to still as an all-too-familiar presence stepped forward.
Gojo Satoru.
He emerged from the shadows, his form battered but very much alive. The weight of his return was suffocating, yet his expression remained unreadable. His blindfold was gone, revealing those piercing Six Eyes that gleamed with an intensity Sukuna hadn't seen before.
"You look surprised," Gojo said, voice light, almost amused. "Did you really think I'd go down that easily?"
Sukuna chuckled, rolling Naomi's shoulders as if testing the body's strength. "Oh, I knew you were stubborn, but coming back from the dead? That's a new one, even for you." His fingers curled, flexing Naomi's cursed energy. "Not that it matters. I have her now. And with this body, I've already won."
Gojo's gaze darkened for a fraction of a second as he took in Naomi's body—his little sister, now nothing more than a vessel for the King of Curses. But he didn't falter. Instead, a small, knowing smile curved his lips.
"Are you sure about that?" he murmured.
Sukuna's smirk faltered for a split second. A feeling—something unsettling—coiled deep within his stolen flesh. And for the first time since taking over Naomi, he hesitated.
Sukuna lunged at Gojo, a torrent of elemental fury erupting from Naomi's body. Flames roared to life, twisting into a blazing inferno as they surged toward the sorcerer, but Gojo sidestepped effortlessly, his figure vanishing in a blur of speed. The fire missed him by mere inches, reducing the ground behind him to molten embers.
Not missing a beat, Sukuna shifted tactics. A slicing gale of wind followed, sharp enough to carve through steel. Then water—deadly and precise, crashing like a tidal wave, aiming to drown Gojo in its relentless force. Ice erupted beneath his feet, creeping fast, seeking to trap him in place.
But Gojo remained untouchable.
With every strike, he evaded with ease, his movements fluid, almost lazy. He wasn't countering with anything devastating—just well-placed minor blows. A flick to Sukuna's temple sent him stumbling back. A casual backhand redirected an incoming slash, knocking Sukuna off balance for just a moment.
"You're slow," Gojo remarked, almost disappointed. "Or maybe it's just her body rejecting you?"
Sukuna snarled, his grip tightening as he forced more power out of Naomi's body. "Shut up."
He sent another wave of destruction—this time combining fire and ice, two forces colliding in an explosion of steam that obscured the battlefield. For a moment, Sukuna grinned. Finally, he had Gojo trapped—
But as the smoke cleared, Gojo stood there, completely unharmed, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Is that all?" he asked. "You're starting to bore me, Sukuna."
The frustration in Sukuna's eyes was evident. Naomi's body was powerful—more than enough to bring devastation. And yet... why did it feel like Gojo wasn't even trying?
Gojo stood in the middle of the battlefield, facing the one person he had sworn to protect above all else. Naomi. Or rather, Sukuna wearing Naomi's body like a twisted mockery of everything Gojo had fought for.
She stood there—no, he stood there, because Gojo knew Naomi would never wear that smirk, never hold herself with such cruel arrogance. Sukuna tilted his head, golden eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. The wind howled around them, dust and debris swirling as if the very world itself recoiled from the monster standing before him.
Gojo clenched his fists, his heart hammering in his chest. He had fought Sukuna before. He had pushed himself to the absolute brink, had died at his hands. But this?
How could he fight the person he raised? How could he raise a hand against his baby sister?
"Tsk, tsk, Satoru." Sukuna's voice purred from Naomi's lips, a sound so fundamentally wrong that Gojo felt his stomach churn. "What's the matter? You were so eager to fight me before. But now that I'm wearing her, you suddenly don't have it in you?"
Gojo said nothing. He just stared, his Six Eyes burning as they took in every detail—Naomi's stance, the way she breathed, the way her hands flexed, as if testing their strength. But it wasn't her.
It wasn't.
Sukuna chuckled, stepping closer. "Oh, I see it now," he mused. "You can't do it, can you? You can't even move." Gojo grit his teeth, his entire body tense, but Sukuna was right. His legs felt rooted to the ground. His mind screamed at him to attack, to do something, but every fiber of his being rejected the thought of hurting her.
Sukuna smirked, his lips curling into something cruel. "How pathetic," he sneered. "The greatest sorcerer alive, frozen like a coward because he sees his little sister's face." Gojo's fingers twitched. Sukuna tilted his head mockingly. "Tell me, Gojo—" his tone dripped with sadistic glee. "Is this how you looked when you saw me kill her brother?"
Gojo's breath hitched.
That bastard. That bastard.
Sukuna only laughed. "Oh, that's right—you weren't even there. You were too dead to do anything. Just like you were too dead to protect her. And now? Now you stand before me, given another chance—" He spread Naomi's arms wide, her body radiating untamed power. "And yet, you still can't do anything."
Gojo's hands trembled. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to fight. To tear Sukuna apart for what he had done. But when he looked at the face before him—at her face—he saw Naomi as a child, clinging to his sleeve, laughing as she chased fireflies in the garden, tugging at his blindfold when she was too little to understand why he wore it.
He saw the girl he had raised. And he couldn't do it. He couldn't hurt her.
Sukuna saw the hesitation and grinned.
"Oh, this is just delicious," he drawled. "Tell me, Gojo—how does it feel? Knowing you're going to lose? That I'm going to win because you won't fight back?"
Gojo exhaled shakily, trying to ground himself, trying to push past the torment flooding his mind. Sukuna stepped even closer, lowering his voice to a whisper, his next words like poison.
"Maybe if you had been stronger, she wouldn't have needed to offer herself to me."
Gojo's blood ran cold.
"She knew, you know?" Sukuna mused. "She knew that the only way to stop me was to let me take her." He grinned, watching the way Gojo's jaw tightened, his fists clenched so hard they shook. "She gave herself up willingly, all because she thought you couldn't do it. Because she thought you would fail."
Gojo's breath came out uneven.
Naomi... Did she really—?
Sukuna's smirk widened as he saw the turmoil in Gojo's eyes. "And guess what, Satoru?" he murmured, leaning in, his voice like a blade to the throat.
"She was right."
The moment Gojo finally moved, the battlefield erupted into chaos.
Maki lunged in first, her blade flashing as she aimed for Sukuna's side, only for him to twist effortlessly, dodging with Naomi's unnatural agility. Yuji followed close behind, his fist crackling with cursed energy as he struck toward Sukuna's back. But even as the blow connected, sending shockwaves through the air, Sukuna barely flinched.
"Pathetic," Sukuna sneered, raising Naomi's hand—and with a mere flick of her fingers, a violent gust of wind erupted, sending Yuji and Maki flying back.
Gojo took a step forward. He had to act. He had to fight.
Even if it meant facing his own sister.
Yuta was next, unleashing a powerful burst of energy from Rika, the monstrous manifestation of his boundless love. The attack crashed into Sukuna, but Naomi's body glowed with immense power, her barriers holding firm. Sukuna laughed, his voice laced with amusement as he raised his palm. "Oh? You think numbers will change anything?"
Before he could unleash another devastating attack, Gojo finally struck. With an earth-shattering force, he closed the distance, his hand glowing with immense cursed energy as he slammed his palm against Sukuna's chest.
Blue.
The force sent Sukuna skidding back, tearing through the battlefield. But Gojo—despite the raw power he had just unleashed—had carefully controlled it. The attack had been designed to push, not to maim.
He wouldn't hurt her. He couldn't hurt her.
Sukuna, however, was only amused. He straightened, dusting himself off, golden eyes gleaming with malice. "Tsk, tsk," he mocked. "Holding back, are we?"
Gojo didn't respond. His mind raced as he dodged a sudden strike from Sukuna, Naomi's hands now glowing with an unnatural mix of elements—fire crackling in one palm, ice forming in the other. A deadly contrast.
Each movement, each attack, felt like a knife to Gojo's heart.
He wasn't just fighting Sukuna. He was fighting Naomi's body.
And no matter how much he tried to convince himself, his hands shook with hesitation every time he struck. Yuji noticed it first. "Gojo-sensei!" he shouted, narrowly dodging an ice spear that shattered against the ground. "You have to fight properly! You can't hold back!"
Gojo grit his teeth. "I know that," he snapped.
But it was easier said than done. How was he supposed to fight at full power when every time he looked at his opponent, he saw Naomi's face? How was he supposed to strike when deep down, he still clung to the hope that she was in there somewhere?
As if sensing his turmoil, Sukuna smirked.
"Poor, poor Satoru," he mocked, effortlessly blocking an attack from Yuta. "So strong, yet so weak when it truly matters." His grin widened. "Face it—you can't kill me, because that means killing her."
Gojo didn't answer.
Because deep down, he knew—Sukuna was right.
The battlefield was chaos, the air thick with cursed energy and dust. Megumi stood at the center of it, eyes locked onto Sukuna—onto her.
Naomi.
His best friend. The girl he had grown up with. The one person who, despite all the pain and distance, had always looked at him with warmth.
And now she wasn't there. Not really.
Sukuna—wearing her body like a cruel mockery—tilted his head, watching Megumi with an amused glint in his stolen golden eyes. "You're looking at me like you still think she's in there," he taunted, cracking Naomi's knuckles. "How pathetic."
Megumi clenched his fists. He wouldn't fall for Sukuna's words. He couldn't.
If he hesitated, he would lose her for good.
A flick of Sukuna's wrist sent a wave of flames toward him, but Megumi was already moving. He dodged, closing the distance as shadows erupted from beneath his feet. Chimera Shadow Garden. His domain flared to life, ink-black beasts materializing around him, launching themselves at Sukuna in a blur of claws and fangs.
Sukuna moved fast—too fast. But Megumi had fought him before. He had studied his movements, his patterns. This wasn't just Sukuna. It was Naomi's body, and despite the overwhelming power she now held, there had to be limits.
And they were going to find them.
From the sidelines, Maki struck, her blade whistling through the air. Yuji followed, fists glowing with cursed energy. Yuta, too, joined the fray, his katana slicing in perfect tandem with Rika's monstrous attacks.
They were everywhere—attacking from all sides, relentless. Sukuna was strong. But even he couldn't fend them off forever. A well-placed punch from Yuji forced him back. A slash from Yuta's blade cut deep into Naomi's side. A brutal strike from Choso sent him stumbling—just for a moment.
For the first time, Sukuna wasn't untouchable.
He growled, blood dripping from Naomi's lips as he wiped it away with the back of her hand. "You pests..." His voice was laced with irritation, but beneath that, there was something else.
Fatigue. Their plan was working. They were wearing him down.
Gojo appeared beside Megumi in a flash, his voice low. "We keep this up. Don't give him a second to recover. Keep hitting him until she wakes up."
Megumi nodded, his grip on his sword tightening. Because he knew—if there was even a chance to bring Naomi back— He would take it.
Even if it meant breaking himself in the process.
small chapter ik..
do vote and comment, and i'm thinking about editing chapters which will soon happen, more 9 more chapter to go.
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