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entwinedmoon · 3 months ago

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This month is the 40th anniversary of John Torrington’s exhumation and autopsy. I’ve been doing real-time daily updates over on this post to show just how long and drawn out the process was. It took over a week, starting from when Beattie arrived on Beechey to when they first started digging to when they finally got the coffin open. Right now, those updates are in a bit of a lull because, after they dug down to the coffin, they had to wait for permits to move onto the next part, so there won’t be another Daily Torrington Dig update until August 17.

While we’re waiting for Beattie to get his permits to crack open a cold one (Torrington’s coffin) with the boys (his scientific research team), you can check out my Torrington blog posts to keep the spirit of the season going. The posts Sacred to the Memory of and A Star Is Born would be especially applicable right now as they explore Torrington’s death, exhumation, autopsy, and the media’s response to the photographs of his well-preserved body.

But there’s something else I wanted to share here, another type of media response that I’ve known about (and had a copy of) for a while. I shared it years ago on Twitter, thinking it would get a laugh there, but that was, er, not the reaction I received, so I’d held off on sharing it anywhere else because I thought most people would find it inappropriate. However, I was reminded recently by a friend (don’t know if they want to be tagged here or not, so I’ll go with not) about the existence of this particular piece, and I realized that this might be something that would be more appreciated here on Tumblr, where we like to photoshop Torrington’s corpse into memes, ship him with the guy he’s buried next to, and want to see what he would think of Takis and flavored vapes.

The article I’m referring to is the story about Torrington that appeared in the Weekly World News.

If you’re not familiar with the Weekly World News, it was a notorious tabloid that made up absurd stories and pretended it was real news. Some news stories were actually true—so it wasn’t completely like today’s The Onion—but there were also plenty of clearly fictional articles, featuring bizarre, often supernatural stories, such as Elvis sightings, a double-decker bus mysteriously found at the South Pole (“scientists” claimed aliens did it), or Bat Boy, a boy who was part bat, part boy.

Torrington’s level of fame within the cultural consciousness of the time meant that he, too, got to experience the tabloid treatment.

(CW: pictures of Torrington’s mummified body beneath the cut)

Published on March 3, 1992, was this front-page story:

Man buried in 1845 brought back to life!

Sailor’s coffin frozen in arctic ice 147 years!

Hush-hush new drug revives corpse, say doctors!

Yes, according to the Weekly World News, John Torrington was brought back to life in 1992. There’s even a full article all about how it happened.

MAN FROZEN SINCE 1845 BROUGHT BACK TO LIFE!

Scientists revive seaman trapped in ice 147 years!

Sailor back from the dead still thinks James K. Polk is President of the U.S.!

By Cal Sanders, Special Correspondent

The perfectly preserved corpse of a British sailor who was buried in an icy grave after he died on an Arctic expedition in 1845 has been revived by scientists—147 years later!

And while Petty Officer John Torrington’s health is fragile at best, the team of doctors who illegally plucked him from his grave and brought him back to life say he is aware of his surroundings, walking with help and might very well be able to lead a normal life “if this man has the psychological strength to adapt to the 20th century.”

“It’s hard to believe but this man thinks James K. Polk is President of the United States and insists that horses and sailing ships are the best and fastest ways to travel,” Dr. Hermann Richter said in his report on the experiment that brought Torrington back to life.

“Electric lights literally scare the hell out of him and to be perfectly frank about it, he hasn’t quite decided if he’s dead or alive. About the best we can do at this point is take his recovery one day at a time.

“If Torrington survives we will have produced a living piece of history. If he dies, at least we’ll be able to say that we tried to do something that might ultimately have benefited all mankind.”

The decision to steal Torrington’s corpse from its grave in northern Canada couldn’t have come easy for the Richter team, which issued its report to selected European newspapers “from an undisclosed clinic in Germany.”

For starters, the young man’s grave has stood as an unofficial monument to the courage and determination of 128 adventurers led by British explorer Sir John Franklin—adventurers who gave up their lives to chart the last 300-mile-leg of the treacherous Northwest Passage between 1845 and 1848. Torrington’s body was exhumed once before, in 1983, but it was carefully reburied after scientists took a small tissue sample to determine the cause of death. As it turned out, Torrington died from lead poisoning after eating provisions out of tins that were sealed with the dangerous and often lethal metal. Needless to say, news that Richter and his associates secretly exhumed the body a second time, smuggled it into Germany and succeeded in bringing it back to life have infuriated many experts, some of whom consider the theft of the body criminal. Richter himself insisted that Torrington is in good hands and will be free to go when he is strong enough.

The doctor went on the say that he understands why the experiment might sound extreme to some people but he believes that the revival of Torrington “furthered the best interests of medicine and science.” Richter’s report did not include any of the techniques that were used to revive Torrington but it did mention “an exciting new drug” that might one day make such revivals routine.

Because he died of lead poisoning, it is also believed that Richter and his team somehow cleansed Torrington’s tissue of the deadly metal before bringing him back to life. For the record, Torrington was a man of 20 when he died. Now he looks like a man of 80, photos supplied by Richter show.

“A century and a half of death is enough to age anyone,” said Richter.

There’s a lot to unpack here—the morally dubious German doctor with a mysterious, Frankenstein-esque resurrection method; the burial and exhumation dates both being off by one year for some reason; the short, skinny guy in the obvious bald cap that they thought would pass as Torrington; and so much more. Interestingly, a lot of the article seems to focus more on how scandalous it is that Dr. Richter stole Torrington’s body, as if the writer thought that the revival of a long-dead corpse wasn’t enough of a scoop. Also, I’m not sure if Torrington would even have been aware that Polk was president in 1845—was he the sort of guy who paid attention to international politics? Wouldn’t it have made more sense for him to think Victoria was still queen?

Many people might be offended by such an article, but the Weekly World News never cared about who they offended. Unsurprisingly, one of those who did take umbrage with the story was Dr. Owen Beattie.

In a short article in the Times-Colonist Metro about a week after the Weekly World News story ran, we got to hear Owen Beattie’s reaction.

HEE-(T)HAW . . . It was standard checkout rag fare. “Man Buried in 1845 brought back to life” shouted a recent front page of Weekly World News. “Hush-Hush New Drug Revives Corpse,” it continued.

These startling revelations bore some significance for both the wax museum’s Ken Lane and University of Alberta anthropologist Owen Beattie. The man purportedly thawed like last night’s dinner was John Torrington, one of three sailors from the Franklin expedition buried on Beechy [sic] Island. The Franklin expedition—and John Torrington—feature large in the wax museum’s arresting Frozen in Time expedition. Torrington’s body was exhumed from its Arctic grave in ’84 by Dr. Beattie, who determined death was from lead poisoning.

Neither Ken nor the anthropologist felt their respective professional worlds crumbled with the News article. (It ran with a photo of an emaciated looking chap being assisted by doctors and reports that Torrington is terrified of electric lights, still believes Polk is the U.S. president, and horses are the only way to go.) Ken shrugged it off with a what-can-you-expect-from-a-checkout-rag laugh. The anthropologist wasn’t quite so forgiving.

He refused to comment on it at all, insisting that his research speaks for itself. Apparently John Torrington was quite dead when he was exhumed and equally so when buried after the autopsy. But then that’s not the sort of stuff that sells check-out rags.

While it’s perfectly understandable that Beattie would not appreciate something like the Weekly World News’ fake story, what I find most interesting about this snippet is that there was a wax museum with a Franklin Expedition exhibit that included Torrington??? Does that mean there was a Torrington wax figure???? Where is it now????? Can I buy it?????????

These very important questions aside, it’s fascinating to see that Torrington was well known enough to make it into a “checkout rag.” Maybe it’s not the legacy he would have wanted, but at least it’s worth a good laugh.

#john torrington #franklin expedition

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greypetrel · 1 year ago

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Crisp those Lines!

Or: a small collection of suggestions for a crispy, neat lineart.

SO MANY OF YOU ASKED FOR THIS (it feels absurd to say, yes), so here you go.

A premise: there's no right or wrong way of inking, and some of the following tips entirely depend on the type of inking I do. Which is neat and clean, with no blacks, and moreover: digitally. More under the cut because it's gonna be long and full of explanatory pictures. Here's an example:

SOFTWARES AND BRUSHES:

Let's address the elephant in the room: Photoshop SUCKS for inking and linework. The stabilisation of the brush there is SHIT. Good for colouring and painting and doing photobashing, but for Lineart you want it to be precise. Do yourself a favour and don't use Photoshop. I generally use Clip Studio Paint, but i have to say that the best program for it that I've tried keeps being Paint Tool SAI 2. It has few functions, it's true, and I use CSP because it has more instruments. But if you don't want to pay much, SAI is incredible as for brush rendition and stabilisation.

As for the brush: you don't need a fancy brush, anything in your software will go. What I use and what works best tho must have:

Tapered start and end.

High stabilisation (I go from 60 upward, lower it down for trees and grass or anything more natural that needs to be less neat and flowy)

Low tapering.

It must be set so that pressure controls only the dimension. The more you push on your pen, the bigger the line gets. No colour or opaciy variation!

On Clip Studio Paint, I use the G-Pen in the program. It's good as it is, but I think I did some variations as per here:

FILE DIMENSIONS:Better work larger and then resize down. Sizing files up digitally is possible, but it leads to unfocused images. I generally work on files at 600dpi (300 is fine too, but don't go any lower. Particularly if that's something you want to print later on, any printing wants a minimum of 300dpi). in roughly an A3 format (bigger dimension is 43cm). Most pictures I upload here are 6000x5000 pixel. A bigger file will give you more possibilities with brush sizes, and it'll be easier. Remember: digitally, sizing down is ok, sizing up is not something you should do.

SKETCH:

This is the suggestion I should follow but never do. Having a clean, polished sketch simplifies your life A LOT. This is because if you don't have to worry about drawing details and fixing the anatomy of your drawing during the lineart, and doing it so GOOD because it's the lineart... You'll go that much slower and your life will be more complicated (it's not impossible, my sketches usually are very rough. I am ok with it, the most I do drawing wise is during the lineart... But I'm lazy, don't do like me. A good sketch will help you out.) Compare the two sketches below:

Another note about your sketch layer: you know those memes that complains that the sketch looks good but when you hide it the lineart is shitty? That's easily solvable. When you're inking, lower the opacity of the sketch layer down, A LOT. I generally go for a 30 or 40% opacity (depending on the colour of the sketch. the yellow sketch will go around 40% because it's less visible, the purple one lower).

When you're inking, you MUST see clearly the lineart you're doing. If the sketch isn't contrasting enough, you won't see clearly what you're doing... It's like trying to sketch with a dim light, not seeing the paper clearly. See the difference:

BEFORE YOU START:

You probably have read it everywhere, but it bears repeating: warm up your hand. You're using muscles and for more than five minutes. The warmer they are, the firmer your hand is, the easier it gets controlling your lines. It also prevents you from damaging your wrist. Stretching is also great, and grippers are nice to have. Keep your hand fit!

As for warming up: I usually do some calligraphy exercises, practicing on flowy cursives. You want to practice varying the pressure of your lines in a single trait, hence why calligraphy is good. But generally, what you can do is...

PRESSURE VARIATION AND LONG LINES:

So. My main tip and trick is to vary the pressure of your lines. In the same line, and between different details. This will help making the lineart more dynamic and interesting. A note: this works for semi-realistic styles. If your goal is obtaining a Cartoon Network style: they have generally little to no variation and it works. My suggestion would be to study the kind of style and effect you want to obtain, different styles will work best with different linearts. If you're aiming at hyperrealistic painting, there's no point in spending time over a lineart, for example, I inked the same lineart, but with a brush that doesn't vary it's dimensions with pressure, and not changing the dimension of the brush.

What makes my linearts look "flowy" and "neat" is the fact that I tend to draw less lines and longer, and pay attention when I stop, to start the line where I end it. This will give the impression of one continuous, single line, and make everything more fluid. See above in the french hood: on the right, I left the line rough on purpose, you can see where I stopped and started again. On the left, where I took care of it, you can't.

Generally speaking:

Thick, dark lines communicate that the object is close to the viewer (always keep the viewer in mind!) or in shadow. Lines should be thicker on the outside of your objects, to separate two planes, and in stuff closer to you.

Thin lines are delicate, they should be used in the background, for small details (see the hair, the lips, the small wrinkles around her eyes.)

As for line continuity: in both cases, the line of her face is one single line I drew. This can be obtained with a smooth result, particularly in curved lines, by getting the brush stabilisation on higher settings (80-100): sacrifice speed for accuracy.

MORE IS MORE, WHEN IT COMES TO LEVELS:

Particularly when there are two objects intersecating, or more characters interacting… Instead of inking all on the same level, I always do one level for each object, trace the WHOLE line as if there was nothing above, and then erase where it's not shown. This is a little thing, but pays off. Always in the drawing of above, the feather and the hem of the bodice were on separate layers, and then I erased the bodice under the feather. Take advantage of being inking digitally and not traditionally!

For many characters, here's an example of a vignette of a comic page before cleaning it up and erasing. Every single character and the weapons are on separate layers

For this it's very useful knowing your recurring mistakes. For example, I tend to draw heads bigger than they should. I know I do, so generally I keep the head on its own level, and the body on another, so it's easier to modify and size down just the head without getting crazy selecting only the lines you want with the lazo.

Again, you're inking digitally. It's not easier than traditionally necessarily, take full advantage of your instrument!

OTHER TIPS AND TRICKS:

High brush stabilisation sacrifices speed for accuracy. The line will lag a little from your cursor. Get used to watching the cursor and not the line, and trust that the line will follow.

GO SLOW.

Rotate and flip the canvas. Don't ask me why, but tracing long lines towards me is always easier than not the other way around.

Use the Free Transform, Warp, Distort etc etc and the Liquify to your heart's content if you notice the lineart has something wrong. The only cheating in art is using fucking AI generators (and AI pictures are not art, sorry not sorry)

References are your friends. Study how an artist you like does the lineart. Try and imitate them, and if you can and need to post them: tag them! (don't trace and sell it as your own)

Experiment with brushes, find one that you like for the effect you'd love. You do you, there's no right or wrong way of inking.

Remember to breathe when you trace those lines! (and to drink and do pauses and stretch, you don't want a tendonitis!)

Have fun. Lineart is not evil, lineart is your friend!

I hope this essay is exhaustive enough. I'm tagging ALL THE PEOPLE that requested it (and giving each of you a muffin). @ndostairlyrium @narina-gnagno @salsedine @whimsyswastry @layalu @n7viper

If you have any questions, don't hesitate in asking!

#tutorials #lineart #inking #digital inking #digital art #tips and tricks #petrel explains #COME LO FECI (cit)#listen if we're mutuals and we chat... ask me to share my screen I don't mind the company when I work if it's not something I can't show #or if it's not too late at night for me #also I unironically like how Alyra inked without variation looks even angrier and more judgemental than normal LOL #also some spoilers for The Last Bacchae if you follow that #“Marmotta” means “Groundhog” in italian #art ref

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dandylovesturtles · 1 year ago

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I said to myself, “I’m going to write a short little ficlet about April taking the boys’ pictures for Splinter, that will be cute,” and then the Donnie portion got so long that I was like “okay I’ll just write about that.” I’m sure later I will circle back to the other three, and April showing the pictures to Splinter.

Support 100 Feet and a World Away in the TMNT Separated AU competition if you wanna! I have no idea when my poll is coming…

…

“Okay, before we start planning today,” April pulls out her phone, turning on the camera, “I’m gonna take your picture!”

Donnie looks suspicious. She can’t blame him - he’s had to put a lot of trust in her, a person he barely knows. She’s sure there’s some part of him that still thinks she’s planning on turning him into some kind of freak show attraction. “Why?”

“I’m gonna show your dad.” She lifts the phone, frowning at the bad lighting. Too bad she can’t turn any more on… “He wants to see what you look like all grown up!”

That’s half of it. The other half, she’s sure, is that Splinter wants to know that she isn’t jerking him around - that she really has met the boys, that she can get to them. He’s having to put a lot of trust in her, too.

It’s a little overwhelming when she thinks about it too long, so she doesn’t. Just focus on getting the photos - that’s all she has to do.

“The man who claims to be my father, you mean,” says Donnie.

April swallows down an exasperated groan. “Donnie, he has baby pictures of you.”

“Are you telling me there’s no way of manipulating pictures?”

“What, you think they’re photoshopped?”

“Aha!” Donnie points at her dramatically. “So there is a way!”

She needs to change tacks here. “These would be hard to fake. He’d have to know what you look like - what all of you look like.” She gestures at him. “He’d have to know that you have markings on your arms and shoulders, your eye color, what your shell looks like… That your color is purple.”

Donnie still looks suspicious through her little speech, but at the last point, she can see something else break through. After all, that’s the one thing the scientists here don’t know.

He’s still not sold, she knows that, but she can’t blame him there, either. All the walls he’s built up are defensive, and they’ll take time to wear down.

“I wouldn’t show this to anyone I think would hurt you,” she says, hoping he believes her. “I’ll even delete it when I’m done, if you want.”

He hesitates a second longer, and when he moves back from the fence and lowers into the water she thinks he won’t agree. But then he surfaces again, a few feet back, and holds his arms straight out to the sides.

“Okay,” he says resolutely. “I’m ready.”

She stares at him. “Uh… why are you standing like that?”

“Is this not the normal protocol for taking pictures?”

She doesn’t want to ask, but she does, anyway. “Is that how those creeps make you stand?”

“Yes.” He twists at the waist. “Front and then back.”

Of course. Every day she learns some new, messed up thing.

She wishes she could have five minutes alone with these creepazoid scientists - just her, them, and her trusty baseball bat.

But Donnie doesn’t need her justifiable rage right now, so she breathes past it and focuses.

“No, it’s not… Most people don’t take pictures like that.” T-pose for dominance crosses her mind, but there’s absolutely no time for explaining memes right now. “You wanna look more… natural.”

“Natural. Okay.” He drops his arms, then fidgets with his hands. “How do I do that?”

“Just stand how you normally stand when you talk to me.”

He frowns, then wades closer. Sways a little, his eyes locked on her. It’s interesting, how it doesn’t scare her like it did at first. “Like this?”

He looks angry like this. His mouth is set in a line, eyes intense. April knows it as his resting face, but what will Splinter think?

Telling Donnie to smile feels weird, though, so she sucks in a breath and nods. “Yep, like that. Okay, I’ll take the pic - it’s gonna flash, okay?”

“Flash?”

“Yeah, flash a bright light. Just for a second.”

He nods. “Okay.”

She holds up the phone, focuses, then takes the pic. Donnie doesn’t startle at the flash, and she’s glad she warned him about it.

The picture itself is… well, depressing is the only word she has for it. Donnie looks angry, standing alone in the dark, feet from the camera and behind a fence. The shadows from the chain link crisscross over his face and body, stark reminders of his captivity.

On one hand, it definitely shows the situation Donnie is in.

On the other, she can only imagine how it would feel to see this picture as a parent.

She kinda hates the idea of bringing Splinter only this… But what else can she do?

“Hmmm…” She taps the phone against the palm of her hand, thinking. Her eyes land on the slot in the fence they use to give Donnie food, and an idea forms.

“Is something wrong with it?” Donnie asks, and she shrugs.

“I was just thinking, the fence makes it hard to see your face.”

“I can’t leave the fence yet, though,” he reminds her, and she shakes her head.

“No, but I can give the phone to you.” She indicates the food slot.

Immediately his eyes light up. “You’re giving me the phone?” His voice pitches up in excitement.

“Hold your horses! We don’t have time for you to go down an internet search rabbit hole, okay?” He opens his mouth, and she shakes her head. “And you are not taking it apart.” He shuts his mouth again. “You’re just gonna take a selfie.”

“A selfie?”

“Yep!” She turns around, then lifts her phone so he can see the screen. He gets as close as he can without touching the fence, so close she can feel his breath as he exhales. His eyes are locked on the phone in fascination. “See this button? If you click that, it switches to the selfie camera.”

“There’s a camera on the front of the phone too!?” Donnie sounds delighted by this information. “Where are they hiding it!?”

“Uh, it’s up here… somewhere.” She gestures at the top of the phone, then shakes her head. “Anyway, once you’re ready, you click this button, and it takes the pic! And that’s called a selfie, because you took a picture of yourself.”

She shows him the picture they just took, of herself talking and Donnie leaning in close, watching with rapt attention. It’s definitely not her best picture, but Donnie looks so much more alive than he did in the last one, even still obscured by the fence.

She thinks she might keep that one, too.

“I see… a selfie.” Donnie says the word like he does all new ones, like he’s turning it around in his mouth to see how it feels. “And you want me to take one?”

“Yep!”

She turns to the food slot, then hesitates. There’s always a chance Donnie will completely disregard what she just said and take the phone for himself - she can’t exactly get it back from him if she hands it over.

But he’s been putting a lot of trust in her, so she can give a little back.

“Here - don’t let it get wet.”

She slips it into the slot. Donnie shakes off his hands, then takes it between his fingers, looking at it with entirely too much reverence. If he ever gets a phone if his own, she thinks, they’ll never get him off it.

For a moment he looks extremely tempted to start rooting through the internet no matter the risks, but after she clears her throat (twice) he gets back on task.

“Right, okay… so I just hold it up like this…” He squints, then moves around in the enclosure, watching the screen. “…I can see myself better here,” he says after he stops.

“You have better lighting there,” April agrees - not that the lighting was ever going to be great with just the dimmed safety lights. “Look at you, you’re a natural!”

Donnie lights up at the praise, his face loosening if not quite smiling. He takes the picture, then ducks like he’s about to go under the water (“Donnie, not with the phone!”), before wading back to the fence.

“Is this okay?” he asks, showing her the screen.

He doesn’t look angry anymore, and the lighting is better - and without the fence, there’s a clear view of his face.

April grins. “It is. Hey, how about you take a few more, though, just to be on the safe side.”

“Ah, yes… to be on the safe side,” he repeats, before wading back to the same spot as before. He lifts the phone, and starts taking pictures, looking at them each time.

After the first two, his lips twitch up, and then his smile grows and grows. April watches as he takes ten more pictures, even starting to tilt his head and angle this way and that. Like a normal kid trying to get the best shot for his instagram.

Her heart warms over it.

She’d let him do this all night if she could, but she only has a few hours and she has to get to the other boys, so after a few minutes more she calls out, “Donnie, I think that’s enough.”

“Can I take a few more?” He glances back at her. “This is… fun.”

“I know, but I gotta take pictures of your brothers, too.” She smiles reassuringly. “Once you’re outta here, you can take all the selfies you want, okay?”

He holds the phone tight, considering… but then he comes back to the slot and gently pushes it back to her.

She takes the phone and opens the pictures, flipping through them in order. His smile in the pictures gets wider and wider, quickly taking on that manic, unhinged quality he gets when he gets really worked up about something.

April feels like she likes those selfies the best. He looks most alive. Most like himself. She can’t wait to show these to Splinter.

After all, if he can’t love this kid at his most weird, he doesn’t deserve to be Donnie’s dad.

#dandy fanfiction #100 feet and a world away #rottmnt #rottmnt april #rottmnt donatello #I’m supposed to get my computer back today #if I don’t I’m rioting

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m1ckeyb3rry · 11 months ago

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Pomegranate Ink: XX

Series Synopsis: Unable to heal but willing to fight, with a fiancé in Kyoto and a last name that looms over everything you do, you accept an offer to study at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. What you did not know was that your salvation and your ruination alike would soon join you at the school, neatly wrapped in the form of a boy followed by death.

Chapter Synopsis: You go on a mission for Gojo.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.9k

Content Warnings: angst, misogyny, naoya zenin, forbidden relationships, canon-typical violence, character death, original characters included

A/N: there’s been too much gojo in pomegranate ink recently but the next few chapters after this one should be the exchange event which means minimal gojo !!

Although you were technically his coworker and equal now, the admiration you held for Kento Nanami had never quite faded. He had even given you his recommendation, so he obviously did not feel like there was a massive gap in your statuses — or, indeed, any gap at all — but that did not change the fact that when you joined Gojo in his office and saw that Nanami was standing there, you immediately straightened your back.

“Nanami, sir, I didn’t realize you’d be here!” you said before turning to Gojo. “And what was that crazy ominous text about, huh?”

“I’m the teacher here, so why am I the one you disrespect so much?” Gojo muttered. You gave him a look, because if you had to list all of the reasons why Gojo didn’t deserve any respect, then you’d be talking for a very long time.

“It’s good to see you again, Y/N. I hope you’ve been doing well,” Nanami said, as polite as ever despite the typical squabble between you and Gojo. “I expect I’m here for much the same reason as you. Although, I’m not quite sure how keen I am on Gojo asking a child to do his dirty work.”

“She’s a Grade 1 sorcerer, the same as you, and you’re the one who recommended her, so why would I treat her as any lesser?” Gojo said. Nanami gave you a sympathetic frown.

“I recommended her because she deserves to be paid more. That’s not a reason for her to be getting jerked around by you and your inane demands,” he said. “She’s still only a second year, so please remember that the next time you ask her about something so serious.”

“What’s going on?” you said. “It’s alright, Nanami, sir. I mean, whatever Gojo’s about to say is definitely going to be something stupid, but I don’t mind helping him out. He’s done so much for me that it’s only fair.”

“Still, you should try to stay out of harm’s way as best as you can,” Nanami said.

“I can use my Reverse Cursed Technique now, so there’s definitely no issue,” you said. “Anyways, Gojo, get on with it. I’ll show you the meme Yuta made for me earlier if you’re quick enough.”

“He’s onto making memes now?” Gojo said in surprise. “That’s big news.”

“I think Toge got him into it,” you said. Gojo thought about this before nodding. It made sense; Toge had been a master with photoshop since birth or something, probably, and he was Yuta’s best friend. It stood to reason that his habits would eventually rub off.

“You’ll definitely have to show me later. I asked you to come here for a reason, though, so we should go over that first. Do you remember what I was telling you earlier, about that special grade curse that performed a Domain Expansion in front of Yuji and I?” he said.

“Yes. It was definitely a worrying thing, especially because Domain Expansions necessitate such a high level of skill. Even sorcerers that can perform them are so rare, which makes it a big problem that there are curses which now can,” you said.

“Exactly. There was recently an incident at a nearby high school that I believe those curses might be involved in, so I’m sending Yuji and Nanami to investigate. I’d go myself, but I have to go on a trip, so I can’t,” Gojo said.

“I don’t recall agreeing to do this,” Nanami interjected. Gojo ignored him; of course, Nanami definitely would go. Even though he was a rule-follower, he didn’t have a great love for the higher ups, and despite his comically constant irritation with Gojo, he also had a lot of faith in the man, which meant he’d begrudgingly oblige his requests, no matter what.

“Why’s that involve me?” you said.

“Originally, I thought about having you take the mission instead of Nanami, since you were a Grade 1 sorcerer who already knew about Yuji’s existence, which would mean one less person would have to find out, but I realized that there was a flaw in that plan: because you’re still a student, the higher ups would definitely be suspicious about that kind of assignment. Even a tiny bit of added scrutiny would be enough for them to pick up on Yuji, and I don’t need to explain to you why that would be disastrous,” he said.

“That’s why you went with Nanami,” you realized. “They don’t really care about him and what he does. Uh, no offense, sir, it’s just that you give off such a stiff vibe that they think you’re firmly on their side, so you’re totally above suspicion when compared to me and Gojo.”

“I understand,” he said. It was something about Nanami which you appreciated, the fact that he didn’t really get upset very easily. He was a relaxed man who was very unflappable, at least as long as Gojo was uninvolved.

“He’s also trustworthy enough to not reveal any details of the mission,” Gojo added. “These are all compliments, Nanami, so you should accept them!”

“Get to the point,” Nanami said. “I see what you want from me, but if you can’t send her on that mission, then why have you called her?”

“Y/N, while Nanami and Yuji are busy investigating that scene, I want you on a different case. You see, a few days ago, a restaurant randomly burst into flames. Although that could be a coincidence, something tells me that there’s more to it. It might even be that same curse from earlier. I want you to see if there’s some kind of greater plot going on here that the curses are working together to achieve, or if it’s just a coincidence that this kind of thing has been happening on such a mass scale recently,” he said.

“Very few things are coincidences,” you said. “Although I do think this one might be. I suppose there is a chance it’s not, though, so sure. I can do that.”

“Hold on a second. You said that that curse could perform a Domain Expansion. What if it pulls that out? Does she have any counter to that?” Nanami said. “If she doesn’t, then it’s totally irresponsible of you to send her. Even more irresponsible than I ever thought you’d be.”

“Um,” Gojo said. “Y/N? Do you have a counter for that?”

“Wow, Gojo,” you said. “I can’t believe you didn’t think of that. Thank you for the concern, Nanami, sir, but as the case may be, I actually do have something I can use if things come to it, so I’ll be alright.”

“If you say so,” Nanami said.

“I knew you’d have a way around it! Or else I wouldn’t have asked you to take the mission in the first place!” Gojo said.

“Oh yeah? What’s my counter, then, huh?” you said. Gojo was oddly quiet for a second.

“I don’t know?” he said finally, voice quiet like a mouse’s instead of boisterous as usual. “I just had faith that you’d figure something or another out. You’re a talented sorcerer, so I had no doubts you’d be alright. Besides, like you said, sorcerers with Domain Expansions are a rarity, so it’s not like I could just find and send someone who can use it to investigate. Even if I could, I wouldn’t trust anyone else the way I trust you, and anyways combat should be your last resort. Avoid it if possible.”

It was very difficult to be angry at Gojo. He looked like a sad, wet cat that had just been sprayed and scolded, pouting slightly, his shoulders slumped. You clicked your tongue before leaning over and hugging him tightly.

“I was only joking. I know you wouldn’t put me in harm’s way if you could help it. I’m a Grade 1 sorcerer now; how could I claim that title if just a Domain Expansion was enough to take me out? You were right to ask me. I’ll take care of things, don’t you worry, and I’ll be back in time to take part in the exchange event, too,” you said.

“For the record, I wasn’t joking,” Nanami said. “But there’s no point in further argument. You’re right about one thing, Gojo, and that’s that there aren’t that many sorcerers around that we can trust. Like it or not, we’ll have to make use of Y/N’s talents.”

“I wouldn’t have asked her if it wasn’t like that,” Gojo said. “That’s the world we’ve been given, though, so we’ll make the best of it. Y/N, I’ll take you out for dinner and shopping once you’re back as a thank you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you said. “But you know I’d never say no to such an offer! You better have that credit card at the ready. I’m taking you up on it for sure.”

“Good,” Gojo said. “I expected no less.”

You were wearing a pair of sunglasses Gojo had lent you as you walked down the street, attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible. You didn’t want to be at all recognizable — not by the curses, who would probably not remember your face even if they saw it, but by anyone related to jujutsu society who might be out and about. If one of your cousins or someone like that saw you, then you’d be in a world of trouble. After all, they’d definitely ask you why you weren’t at the school, and what would you even say to that? You couldn’t exactly tell them that you were on a secret mission for Gojo, so it would be an awkward conversation overall. You had faith in your disguise, though, so there was definitely no issue —

“Hey, Y/N! I wasn’t expecting to see you out here!” a friendly voice said.

You whipped around, trying to discern who it was that had recognized you. The typical culprits were absent — any of your classmates, the third years, your family members, or any of the higher ups. Finally, your eyes lit upon him, beaming and obviously about to say something again, just as loudly as he had the first time.

“Shut up,” you hissed, wrapping your arm around his neck to yank his head down and slapping your hand over his mouth. “I’m supposed to be in disguise right now.”

“Really?” Takuma Ino said, voice muffled by your palm. “You look exactly the same but with sunglasses, though. As far as disguises go, I don’t think it’s that effective.”

“What are you doing here, anyways?” you said, deciding you’d have to reevaluate your disguise at a later moment. Pushing your sunglasses up to rest on the crown of your head, you let go of Ino, who rubbed the back of his neck and readjusted his shirt collar.

“I was planning on going to see a movie at the theater a few blocks down! Do you want to come?” he said. You thought about it for a second. It would be fun, after all — Ino was the kind of person that you couldn’t help liking. He had this unfailing optimism about him that made him a great mission partner, and he also was one of those people that had a moral code they actually followed. Overall, you were definitely really fond of Ino, but you knew you couldn’t take the time off even if you wanted to. Gojo was counting on you.

“I’m sorry, I wish I could. I’m actually busy right now, though,” you said. Ino shrugged.

“No worries,” he said. “I’ll see you around, then! Let’s try to go on a mission together at some point. It’s way better doing stuff with you than it is with most of the other Grade 1 sorcerers. Last time I went, they had me go with Naoya Zenin.”

You winced at the mention of the name alone. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was fine, I guess. He’s just kind of—” Ino leaned in to whisper in your ear “—a douchebag.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you said with a snort. “Luckily, I haven’t seen him since he was suspended after that mission where he supervised me. Douchebag is the best way to describe him, so don’t think I’ll tell on you for thinking like that.”

“Thanks,” Ino said, clearly relieved. “Anyways, I should go! The movie’s starting soon, and I like watching all the trailers that come before it, so I can’t be late. See you around, Y/N!”

“See you,” you said, waving as he turned the corner. It was a little disappointing. The downside of being a Grade 1 sorcerer: you had even less time to just enjoy your time as a student. Instead of getting to train with your friends and watch movies, you were completing a dangerous mission, with unregistered special grade curses as your opponents. While Ino watched his movie and your classmates prepared with one another for the exchange event, you were conducting a potentially fatal investigation.

At least you got paid way more than the rest of them — bar Yuta, of course, who was rolling in the cash of his special-grade salary. But he was also an entire continent away, so you didn’t envy him too much.

The restaurant that Gojo was talking about was closed off with construction barriers and yellow tape. Fiddling with the pouch of needles you carried with you at all times, you stepped over the tape and around the barriers, closing your eyes and sharpening your cursed signature detection.

The incident had happened a few days ago, so they were incredibly faint, but the residuals were definitely there. Gojo had been right in sending you; the whispering remnants of cursed energy would’ve escaped almost anyone else’s notice. It was only because of your advanced signature perception that you had caught them, and even then, you would’ve missed them if you weren’t looking for them in the first place.

“One — two — three — four,” you counted, crouching before the only seat that wasn’t scorched. For some reason, this residual felt familiar to you, though you couldn’t quite place where you remembered it from. That only made you feel more uneasy; was it a curse you had faced before? Or was it a possibility that someone you knew was working as a curse user alongside the special grade curses?

It couldn’t be anyone too familiar, though. You would’ve known who they were for sure if you had met them more than a few times. Whoever’s residual this was, they were a person you had only encountered once or twice. That didn’t narrow it down any, of course, and indeed it made it more difficult for you to pin down who it could’ve belonged to. How were you supposed to recognize someone you barely knew?

Pulling out your phone, you typed out your findings in a new note. Four residuals at restaurant. Three belonging to curses. One belonging to a curse user. Curse user’s residual is familiar but unidentifiable.

You’d email the entire attachment to Gojo once you were finished with the mission so that he had a frame of reference and some background for when you gave him the official report in person. This way, you’d also be sure to not forget anything, since you were writing it all down as you discovered it.

Leaving the strongest source of the residuals behind, you went over to one of the charred pieces of wood that must’ve once been a chair. When you poked it with your finger, it crumbled away into ash. Your lips tugged downwards into a frown, and you knelt, squinting at it. This was the important part; curses could appear anywhere, but whether they were involved in the disaster was what you were supposed to be investigating.

All residuals told a story. What did these ones have to say? What had happened at this restaurant? Was it something mundane, or was something more sinister at work?

A man set ablaze by something cursed. Flames bursting up at random. People burning. Fire licking throughout the restaurant, stopping at the feet of the three curses and their benefactor and then suddenly extinguishing. The foursome leaving the restaurant with nary their clothes singed.

Gojo was right: it had not been a coincidence. This restaurant had burnt on purpose by what you could only assume was the curse he had met earlier, the fiery one with the head like a volcano. Furthermore, you could sense no other residuals besides the ones left by the group, which meant that the curse had done it for no reason other than because it could.

Naturally, there was no sense in trying to assign meaning to the actions of curses. They were who they were; it was in the character of a curse to destroy, so there wasn’t any morality to it. They weren’t evil out of conscious choice — that was what was intrinsic for them, so that was how they acted. Still, this felt unnecessarily cruel, a display of senseless violence just for violence’s sake.

Fire seems to have been set with malicious intent. No evidence of a struggle. No evidence of a need for self-defense. No evidence of outside intervention via sorcery.

Leaving the restaurant behind, you leaned against the wall, trying to figure out what you should do next. Any residuals that the curses might’ve left as they made their escape would be washed away by now, simply due to the massive traffic in the area, so you couldn’t track them that way. But what other clues did you have about their hiding spots? How else could you observe them? Your findings weren’t anything special, especially without much to substantiate them. They could be put down to the typical behavior of curses, even though you had this sense that something else was at play.

“Honestly,” you said, puffing out your cheeks and letting your sunglasses fall back on the bridge of your nose. “This blows. What am I supposed to do now?”

“You know,” a wheezy voice said from beside you, “I never thought someone as mortal as you would dare stick their nose where it doesn’t belong, but I guess humans really are stupid."

It was like that snake curse of Elakshi’s all over again. You hadn’t even noticed the curse approaching, but here it was, in this deserted alleyway with you, right next to you. It was a grotesque mixture of person and horror, too close to humanity to be dismissed in turn, too close to monstrosity to be given any real sympathy.

As Itadori and Gojo had said, his head resembled a volcano, with one single, huge eye glaring out in front of him. His back was hunched, like he was an elderly man, and he wore a yellow-spotted cape draped over his shoulders. He mirrored your position, making no move to attack you, obviously delighting in the fact that you recognized him.

“You’re the curse that Gojo fought,” you said. The curse spat, his saliva splattering against the concrete and melting it, steam arising from the spots where it had dropped.

“Satoru Gojo,” he snapped. “Yeah, I fought that weakling.”

“Didn’t he beat you? You shouldn’t call him weak. If anyone’s weak, it’s you,” you criticized. This was, in hindsight, not the smartest thing you could’ve done, but you found it a little humorous that this curse really believed Gojo was the weak one between them two.

“What?” the curse said, flames bursting from the openings which must’ve functioned as his ears. You winced, taking a step back from the massive heat suddenly emanating from him. “You think I’m weak? You are nothing compared to Satoru Gojo and I. You could never defeat me, and yet you dare call me weak?”

“How did you know I’d be here?” you said, deciding to get to the point before he began to attack. “You must’ve, or else you wouldn’t have come. I know your hideout isn’t nearby, because I would’ve sensed it, which means that, for some reason, you believed that a sorcerer would come to the scene of your crime. Why? What tipped you off?”

The curse ignored you. “If you think I’m so weak, then fight me yourself! Come on, girl, why don’t you?”

“I’m not in the mood,” you said, eyeing him warily, taking another step back. Gojo had recommended you avoid combat, and you were inclined to agree with him. This did not seem like an ideal matchup for you; this curse, whoever he was, seemed to be the type that was focused on brute strength and sheer power. Furthermore, there was no way you could take him by surprise, and even if you got lucky and managed to land a hit or two, there wasn’t a guarantee that they’d be immediately fatal.

Your best bet would be to escape now, before he could attack you. But where would you go? The alleyway opened up into bustling streets on either side, which meant that you’d be putting civilians at risk if you fled and the curse decided to chase you. The question of where he had come from also remained. Did he have backup? Even now, were there more curses on their way to attack you? Or were the majority of their forces located in that high school where Itadori and Nanami were operating?

“That high school,” you continued in a forced show of bravado. “You’re involved in that, aren’t you? You and the other unregistered special grades. Have you all formed some kind of group?”

“Why should I answer your questions?” the curse shouted, the top of his head emitting wisps of smoke, threatening at an eruption. “You’re a human, so I owe you nothing! I know you’re running because you have no hope of fighting me, but don’t think I’ll let that happen. I’ll kill you before you can take another step!”

“Who are you?” you pressed, ignoring his threats. “Curse, tell me your name. If it makes you feel better, mine is Y/N L/N.”

The curse froze in his tracks, fire abruptly cooling, the air almost chilly in the absence of his furnace-like heat. Then, to your surprise, he took a step backwards, though he still trembled with rage, his single eye narrowed at you. There was a war in that iris, like he could not come to terms with what he had to do.

“Y/N…L/N?” he repeated. You hadn’t been expecting that kind of reaction, but you definitely weren’t complaining.

“Yes,” you said. “And you are? Who do you work for? I know you’re operating alongside at least one curse user. Who are they? I know I recognize their residuals, but I can’t place where from. Who is it? Tell me, now, before I — I call Gojo!”

“Satoru Gojo is abroad,” the curse said. “So don’t think that that kind of threat will work on me. But if you really are Y/N L/N…I’ve heard about you, in fact.”

“From who?” you said, still trying to figure out how he knew Gojo wasn’t in the country. “Who told you about me? Why does it matter who I am? Didn’t you just want to kill me?”

It wasn’t like you wanted him to kill you, but the total flip in his attitude alongside the reluctance with which it had occurred made you mistrustful. Was this a way for him to catch you off guard? If that was the case, then it wasn’t working. You still didn’t believe in him one bit, and you also couldn’t figure out what kind of angle he was playing it. It was totally unbelievable for him to have heard of you — unless he somehow knew about that.

“I’ve been told that you cannot die if we want Sukuna on our side,” the curse said, though his hands twitched, like he wanted to reach out and burn you with them regardless. “If we want him to fight with us, then we cannot kill you.”

“So that’s your goal,” you said. “Or at least one of them: you want to reawaken Sukuna fully. I guess that that’s not too much of a surprise, though I don’t understand what my involvement in the scenario is.”

The curse’s lip curled in disgust. “I don’t, either. You’re just a bag of bones, held together with a minuscule amount of cursed energy. What vested interest does someone like Sukuna have in a weakling like you? Why does it matter that you live? I’d ignore the warning, but last time I did…well. We can’t risk it. Not yet, anyways. Get out of my sight, irritating pest, before I change my mind and decide that killing you and shutting your insufferable mouth is worth risking Sukuna’s aid in our plan!”

“That’s fine by me,” you said. “I’ve found out more than enough. I hope to never see you again, Mount Fuji!”

“Mount Fuji?” the curse screeched after you. You could see the air shimmering around him, a warning of an imminent explosion as you sprinted away. “Be grateful you escaped this time! It won’t be the case if we ever meet again, Y/N L/N!”

With trembling fingers, you finished typing your report on the bus, glancing out the window periodically in case the curse had decided to chase you all of this way. Once it had been formatted and updated with all of your findings, you downloaded it as a PDF and emailed it to Gojo. This was a weight off your shoulders; at least now, even if that curse did come for you, you had managed to get the information to Gojo.

It had been more productive of a mission than you had originally anticipated. Although some of your conclusions were little more than conjecture, only guesses based on offhand comments made by the curse and the more circumstantial evidence, you felt confident about most of it being correct — and you told Gojo as much when you met him next.

“You really think there’s someone leaking our information?” Gojo said. You sighed, swirling a spoonful of sugar into the tea Gojo had offered you. Nanami and Itadori had just returned from their mission, and you were sure that whatever they had discovered would reflect what you had.

“The curse knew that I’d be there, which I suppose you could put down to a lucky guess, but he also knew that you were abroad. There’s no way he could’ve just happened upon such a random explanation; the most likely solution is that someone’s giving them our information. It would also account for why those residuals felt so familiar,” you said.

“Someone in jujutsu society, who you’ve only met once or twice, is working with the curses,” Gojo said, massaging his temples.

“I’d like to say it’s Naoya,” you offered. “Mostly because I hate him and believe that most of the world’s problems can be put upon him. But, unfortunately, I’d have recognized his signature, and anyways he wouldn’t benefit from jujutsu society collapsing, so we can rule him out.”

“I wouldn’t have really suspected him in the first place,” Gojo said. “If I had to guess, it’s someone associated with one of the schools.”

“Another student?” you said. Gojo nodded.

“Or a faculty member, possibly. I doubt that they would be the curse user whose residuals you recognized, but I do think that that’s where that group is getting their information from. I’ll ask Utahime to look into it — I’ve known her since I was young, so I can be reasonably assured that she’s not the one who’s leaking our secrets,” he said.

“Then whose residuals could they be?” you said. Gojo shook his head.

“I don’t know. I hope that, by catching the spy, we can figure that part out,” he said.

“There’s another thing I don’t understand. If the curses are working together to resurrect Sukuna, then why would a sorcerer be working with them? What use would any of the students have with a world where Sukuna reigns once more?” you said.

“Use your imagination, Y/N,” Gojo said. “Think about it. There’s a lot of reasons that people would want to ally themselves with the curses, especially because of how powerful they are. Even if they don’t agree with the final outcome, they might be trying to use the curses’ powers to their own ends.”

“Do they really think that they can deal with curses like that and win?” you said derisively. “It never ends well when sorcerers get involved with curses, especially inexperienced sorcerers, which is what they would be if they’re a student.”

“If they’re inexperienced, then they wouldn’t have the foresight to realize that. Or maybe there’s something they want badly enough that they’ll take the risk,” Gojo said. “There’s a lot of reasons. I can’t be certain, but anyways, I think it’s the most likely explanation. Like I said, we’ll have Utahime help us. She may not excel in strength, but she’s always been the observant type. If anyone can get to the root of things, it’s her.”

“That’s good,” you said. “Yeah, you’re right. There’s not much more we can do. It’s just all so much, and so sudden, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Gojo said. “Thank you for going on that mission. You definitely managed to make the most of it. I’m just glad that you escaped the curse without having to fight. I don’t know how that kind of a confrontation would’ve gone.”

“Probably not well,” you admitted. “He’s not the kind of opponent I’m best suited to face off against.”

“How’d you manage it? You were obviously around him long enough that you could have an entire conversation with him, so how were you able to escape fighting? He was so ill-tempered when we met,” Gojo said.

“Maybe that’s just your personality,” you suggested weakly. You had avoided including that particular detail in your report, mostly because you were still struggling to come to terms with it and what it meant.

“Do you really think so? If that’s the case, then he definitely would’ve fought you, because according to your report, you were just as annoying as I would’ve been in the same situation,” he said.

“No,” you said. “That’s not why. It’s because of Sukuna.”

“Sukuna?” Gojo repeated incredulously. “How’d he end up there?”

“He wasn’t there. Not physically, at least. It’s the same thing from when I went to help Megumi, when Sukuna refused to genuinely, properly fight me. For some reason, my death is something that he wants to avoid, to the point that even that curse believed that killing me would automatically disqualify Sukuna from their list of allies,” you said, and you were surprised to feel your throat swelling, choking with inexplicable tears. “I don’t understand it, Gojo. What does he want from me?”

You buried your face in your hands. You knew it was a little ungrateful — after all, you had the King of Curses supposedly watching over you, his name alone ensuring you did not die, but why did it not feel like a blessing? Why was there no benevolence to it? Why did it frighten you so much?

Sukuna did not care about you. He wasn’t protecting you, necessarily. He was just keeping you around for some greater purpose, one that only he could fathom. That was what you feared. What would Sukuna’s whims cost you? What was it that he was saving you for? What would he do to you once you had fulfilled his wish? Because you knew he hated you. He hated your ancestor, and therefore he hated you, and although there was something blocking him from it, he certainly wished for your death. So what was it that he could possibly want from you above all else? What could he possibly want so much that he would even delay the death he so longed to see for it?

Gojo’s hand was soft atop your head. He did not pat you, nor did he stroke your hair. He just let his hand rest there — it was as much comfort as he knew how to give, after all. This was Gojo at his core: a man who did not really understand how to love someone else. Maybe another person might’ve resented him for it, but it only made you feel fiercely more for him, made you wish you could go back in time to when he had been a child and tell him that one day, he would meet you, someone who’d always love him, no matter what, and that he only had to hold on until such a day could come.

“He wants something only you can give,” Gojo said. “I don’t know what that could be. Sukuna’s never been the kind of person that can be easily understood. It doesn’t make sense to me, either, but that’s how it is.”

“I don’t know, either,” you said. Gojo ruffled your hair before retracting his hand.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to know immediately. But think about it, alright?” he said. “And in the meantime, you might as well enjoy the benefits a little. You can’t escape it, so take advantage of the fact that he’s decided, for some reason or another, that you are important to his plans!”

“Yes,” you said. “You’re right. There’s always a bright side, isn’t there?”

“There you go. Cheer up! Let’s move on to more fun topics. The exchange event is in a couple of days. Aren’t you excited to see everyone again?” Gojo said.

“Not when one of them might be a traitor,” you confessed. Gojo shook his head.

“Don’t think like that. Certainly, you shouldn’t trust anyone with your deepest secrets — except for Yuta — but they are all your friends. You can still be happy to see them. Let Utahime and I deal with the problem of the traitor; you just enjoy yourself at the event, alright?” he said.

“Alright,” you agreed. “And although I agree that he’s definitely not the traitor, why is only Yuta deemed so trustworthy? Why didn’t you include Maki or Tullia on the list?”

“He’s in Africa, so it wouldn’t make any sense for him to be the spy,” Gojo said. “He’d be an awful source of information, since he pretty much…has none at the moment. We have to suspect basically everyone else, even though you’re right in thinking that it’s unlikely for either of those two to be spies.”

“I see,” you said. “I guess there’s nothing to be done about it now, is there? This is what it’ll be like until we can catch the spy.”

“I’m afraid it is,” Gojo said sympathetically. “Hey. Wanna go get ice cream with me?”

“You just got back from your trip, didn’t you? I don’t want to make you go out if you’re tired,” you said. Gojo had insisted on meeting with you the instant he had returned from the airport, and though he had done an admirable job at hiding it, you knew he was still exhausted. Still, he shook his head.

“Nah, I was going to go either way. It’ll just make me less lonely if you come along, too,” he said, standing up and pulling you to your feet. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

You laughed softly. “You know, Gojo, sometimes I think you’re not that bad.”

“Hey, thanks! Anyways, I’m thinking of trying a new flavor, but I’m not sure if I’ll like it. Do you promise to finish it for me if I don’t?” he said.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever. You have to pay for it, though,” you said.

“Pinky swear?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

#yuuta x reader #yuuta x y/n #yuuta x you #reader insert #canon au #pomegranate ink #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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