Chapter Text
April 8th, 2017. / 18:31 / Gojo Estate, Kyoto Prefecture, Japan
Evening drapes itself over the Estate, softening the edges of the wooden verandas and the stone lanterns. The air smells faintly of moss and damp earth, and the breeze carries the last warmth of the sun mixed with a hint of spring chill.
Liv sits on the stone bench, hands folded in her lap, eyes tracing the subtle ripples of the koi pond. The sparring earlier that day drifts through her mind. She shakes her head. No. The details, the closeness, the absurd intensity - all of it belongs to the past.
A shimmer catches her eye in the distance. A small, deliberate ripple, unnatural in its subtlety. A tell-tale signature of her glamor charm.
“Come out,” Liv mutters under her breath, rising from the bench.
The shadows near the garden edge bend and shift; the air flickers. Tove steps into view, the faint outline of her form catching the last of the light, her expression tense, eyes sharp.
“I told you to keep your distance,” Liv says, voice calm but firm. “Gojo’s on the premises.”
Tove inclines her head slightly, her shoulders squared.
“I know,” she says quickly. “I wouldn’t have come otherwise, but it’s urgent.”
Liv folds her arms, letting her gaze drift over the darkened Estate, thinking.
"Well, out with it," she says, urging the spymaster with a flick of her wrist.
Tove hesitates, however.
“Were you compromised?” Liv asks. "Is there a mole? Was there an attack on our resources?"
Tove shakes her head. “It's Lord Tatsuo and Akame. They’ve approached Mama Yve. They want the Archives, Liv.”
Liv’s eyes soften. She reaches for the spymaster's shoulder and gives a gentle squeeze.
“You worry much, Tove," she says with a calm tone. "The Archives are safe with Yvrose. No one would dare challenge her, not even the old She-Wolf.”
“The challenge might as well have been issued,” the spymaster argues.
"But it wasn't," Liv counters. "Don't cry wolf where there is none."
"Does the problem need to be at our doorstep for us to act?" Tove nearly cries out. “We have to get you and Nova out of here, out of Japan. You’re not safe here, imprisoned like this. Gojo can’t protect you.”
“I don’t need his protection,” Liv says slowly. “And I’m not imprisoned. This is a temporary solution until things quiet down. Fear not, dear Tove - we’ll be away from these people soon.”
She means it.
Tove exhales, almost a whisper. “If you say so, Mistress.”
Her gaze lingers on Liv for a moment longer. Then, without another word, she fades into the dark, the shimmer of the galdr charm disappearing into the evening.
Liv sighs, shoulders relaxing, and turns back to the pond. The ripples are calm, steady.
But her mind is not. She looks over her shoulder, her gaze set on the corridor leading into a study room. Does the problem need to be at our doorstep for us to act? Words echo in the back of her mind. She shakes her head, but it does little to unburden her thoughts.
"Damn it," she curses under her breath, playing with her fingers.
She looks at the corridor again, then at the garden. Her eyes search for the hint of the glamor charm. Albeit, there is none. Tove has already left the premises.
Gojo can't protect you.
A solemn expression settles on her brow as she runs her hand over her face.
"Forgive me, Satoru," she mutters softly before walking toward the study.
///
April 8th, 2017. / 19:04 / Gojo Estate, Kyoto Prefecture, Japan
In the study, light pools over the desk in a tight, deliberate circle. Gojo sits within it, sleeves rolled, collar loose, fingers stained faintly with old dust. Books are stacked in uneven columns around him; some bound in cracked leather, others stitched with thread that has long since darkened with age. Talismans peek out between pages like pressed flowers. Margins bristle with notes written in multiple hands, eras arguing with one another across centuries.
He flips a page.
Nothing.
Another.
Worse than nothing.
Gojo exhales through his nose and leans back, chair creaking softly. For a moment, he lets his head tip against the shelf behind him, eyes closing. The faintest crease forms between his brows before he smooths it away, habitually, like a reflex.
Annoying, he thinks. He prefers enemies that push back.
He reaches for another book, thinner than the rest, its cover etched with symbols worn nearly smooth. Skims. Discards it to the side with more force than strictly necessary.
“C’mon,” he mutters, tone light, almost teasing. “You can’t tell me you’re this boring.”
The room does not answer.
Minutes pass. Maybe more. His gaze drifts instead, unbidden.
Tatami. Polished wood. Liv moving without wasted motion. How she never met strength head-on, only guided it, redirected it. The memory rises warm and vivid: the brush of proximity, the heat that had nothing to do with cursed energy. The way she’d looked at him - flustered, yes, but steady. Not afraid.
Never afraid.
Gojo’s mouth curves, slow and genuine, the kind of smile that doesn’t ask for an audience.
“Tch,” he murmurs to no one, amused. “Dangerous woman.”
He straightens, rolling his shoulders once, the weight in his chest easing just enough to breathe around. For all the noise he makes, for all the spectacle, moments like that remind him why restraint matters. Why control isn’t always about force.
His fingers tap the desk, thoughtful.
Maybe the answer won’t be in these books. Maybe it won’t be old. Maybe it will require a kind of thinking that doesn’t exist on paper.
Gojo reaches for another volume anyway, because that’s what you do when someone you care about is sleeping under a curse, and the world expects you to already know how to fix it.
As he turns the page, the faint smile lingers.
Some problems take time.
And some reminders make that waiting bearable.
As he buries his nose in papers, the corridor outside his study is quiet. Not empty but hushed. Lantern light spills through the shoji in narrow bands, pale gold against the dark grain of the floor.
Liv stands just beyond it.
She exhales slowly. Her cursed energy pours out, blending into the ground, the ceiling, the cracks in the door frames. It is a delicate thing, this kind of restraint.
She closes her eyes.
Gojo’s presence is unmistakable - vast, restless, irritatingly bright. His thoughts brush against her Inner Eye like static at first, unfocused and skimming: texts, diagrams, fragments of theory colliding and dissolving before they can take shape.
She listens carefully, sorting signal from noise.
The shift is subtle but unmistakable. His thoughts tighten around a name. Liv’s brow furrows.
So that’s it.
The great secret becomes clearer. Not a mission. Certainly not some great, ancestral curiosity trip. No, a girl; a girl who hasn’t woken up. However, what confounds Liv isn’t the nature of his secret - it is the fact that he’s hiding it from her in the first place.
Liv opens her eyes slowly.
There is something almost tender about it, she thinks. About the lengths he’s willing to go without saying a word. About the way he pretends ease while carrying that kind of weight.
The air changes.
Liv turns.
Rei stands at the far end of the corridor, half-swallowed by shadow, posture loose, almost languid. Her eyes gleam with quiet amusement, lips curved in a knowing smile that has never once meant kindness.
Why are you here? Liv asks without sound, irritation threading the thought. This isn’t the Shuuin land.
Rei tilts her head, considering. I could ask you the same, she replies lightly.
Liv’s jaw tightens. Circumstances changed.
Rei laughs. It is a soft sound, almost fond - and infinitely cruel.
Did they? Rei steps forward, her shadow stretching unnaturally long across the floor. Look at you, pup. You sit in a house that is not yours, and call it patience.
Liv straightens, anger flaring sharp and clean. I’m buying time.
For what? Rei asks, genuinely curious now. For whom?
Liv doesn’t hesitate. For the future to come. For those who matter.
Rei’s smile widens. I believed you greater than your kin. My, how the mighty have fallen.
Liv steps closer. Are you certain that I’ve fallen? she demands. Have I started a war on my kin? Have I burned an entire clan for no reason other than personal ambition? Have I become a monster in the end?
For the first time, Rei remains silent.
She studies Liv in silence, expression unreadable. Her brow quirks before settling into a frown. Liv instinctively mirrors her. The Great Mother’s mind is hidden from her, so she can’t tell what exactly is going through her head. Then, slowly, Rei’s grin returns - wicked, delighted, full of secrets Liv does not want to know.
Ah, Rei murmurs. It seems there’s something in that head after all.
The shadows swallow her whole. The corridor is empty again. Liv stands there for a long moment, heart steady but heavy, Rei’s laughter echoing. Finally, she exhales and turns away from Gojo’s study without looking back.
Some questions are better left unanswered.
For now.