He woke up face down in a pool of drool and his own blood staining the futon.
He tried lifting himself up and almost stumbled at the action. He shrugged off the cloth that had been spread over him and raised an eyebrow as he looked down at the stump of his arm, the memory of the fight came back easily to him.
He remembered stumbling to an apartment, before dropping right at the entrance, how did he end up on a child-sized futon? He looked up and saw the sleeping form of his son tucked into a blanket and lying on a chair overlooking him, Megumi.
"Please take care of Megumi"
That memory, the voice cracked something in him. Looking at the kid reminded him of the little monster he fought. He let out a sharp grin as he immersed himself in that memory. The pain of his missing arm seemed to disappear as he let himself go.
What he would've given to continue that fight. He had noticed the white-haired boy's technique get crisper. His blows flowed smoother even as his body tired.
It had felt like he was sharpening a steel blade that had let itself rust. The drip of blood passing through a roughly applied tourniquet drew his attention back to the present, it was the work of a split-second to clench his muscles tight, seamlessly stopping the blood flow to the arm.
A quiet shuffle and an ineligible murmur drew his attention back to Megumi. They were about the same age he noted, judging by the height, maybe a year or two difference. He would be giving him up to the Zenin clan soon.
"Please take care of Megumi"
He shook his head in a futile attempt at forgetting that particular memory, he smoothly transitioned to his feet and walked out of the room. He was not certain of that choice again. The Gojo clan had made a monster of the kid, and while he had never given much thought about his, he was certain she would not have approved of his choice.
"Please take care of Megumi"
Now, he was even more sure of that. He walked past a sleeping face that bore so much resemblance to hers and unintentionally sped up his walk out of the room.
If anyone was going to make a monster of his son, shouldn't be him?
This was why he stayed away. He couldn't bear being reminded of her every second, every day. Yet when he was at his lowest, this was where his legs brought him too, and the kid had replaced his original bandage of a ripped shirt, even if his was messily applied.
He stepped into the kitchen of the apartment, turning on the tap he stuck his head under and allowed the water to wash away the grime that had settled on his face overnight.
A side door opened, and he spun around in preparation but was met with the surprised face of Tsumiki as she stared down his one-handed, bruised, and battered form.
He faced her with a smile and smoothly moved the kitchen knife he had swiped behind himself, "Where's your mother Tsumiki-chan".
xxxx
AIKO
Despite what the majority of the people who came across Jiki in recent times thought. He had no issues with being blind. Other than an initial and short-lived distaste of it.
Ever since his eye wrap had become a semi-permanent feature of his. He had seemed to pick up on moving without sight just as well as he did even with access to his eyes.
She watched attentively as he smoothly maneuvered around a table that he somehow knew to be there, picked up a paintbrush he knew to be a darker shade of red, and splashed it along his canvas.
His furious strokes might've been mistaken as him putting his anger at his condition, into his art, but one single look at his unchanging expression that still managed to bear a soft smile put that motion to rest.
He dropped the red brush and picked up a blue-colored one, before returning his focus on his painting. She placed the cup of tea she'd made in the kitchen beside his brushes, and he grabbed it, took a sip, and dropped the cup back on the tray in one smooth movement.
The two additional maids and guards that had been assigned to them ever since his run-in with the sorcerer killer, stared at the impossible scene in front of them with a gobsmacked expression while she forced herself to hold in a laugh.
She looked back at his canvas, focusing on the rapidly forming images of two people who had similar features. One in a black and red robe, the other in a blue and white as they clashed with a backdrop of red and black that she suspected were eyes.
She felt the laughter die in her throat. The image managed to provoke a feeling of grief, pain, and sadness in her, and this was it just halfway done. She looked down on his white hair and soft smile as he continued with his masterful strokes.
In another life, he would've painted all he wanted. They would've shared tea, cookies, and sweets as she praised him for his beautiful paintings before rushing him off to have his bath and rinse the paint out of his hair.
Unfortunately, this was not that life. The phantom pain that she felt In her right rib disabused her of that fantasy. He was no longer only the sweet boy who kissed her on her cheek or held her hands when she felt down.
The clan had seen what he could do, what he could become, and they made every effort to forge him into becoming their blade. His recent injury only slowed them down as they allowed him the chance to rest and recover, pending when he was healed completely.
All this was because of her. If only she had the grace to die that day, maybe-. Her thoughts were cut short as she felt a soft and slightly calloused paint-stained hand slip into hers.
She shook her head and glanced around, noting the envious gazes the new maids sent her way, the apathetic one the guard replied her with, before finally looking down at him. He stared up at her with a soft smile on his face, he had noticed her turbulent emotions and stopped his painting to soothe her.
"Aiko?" He spoke with a leading question.
She shook her head before, before realizing he was still temporarily blind. He gave a sudden smile as if he somehow knew what she did.
"I'm okay Jiki-kun, sorry for distracting you" She replied with a subservient nod.
His reply was cut off as his head snapped to the entrance of the outside gazebo they rested in, a few seconds later a man dressed in the more traditional style of the clan climbed the stairs, with a glance at them and a deferential nod at Jiki, he spoke.
"Miss Ierie is here to see you"
With a swift nod of his head, Jiki turned around to put his tools back in order, but she stopped him when he was about to start washing the paint off the brush.
"Leave it to us, Jiki-san"
She gave him a firm nod, before gesturing to the two other maids. While they both had years on her age-wise, she had served Jiki since he was born and few would dare pull rank on her when Jiki had favored her so heavily. Especially when it was an open secret the clan leader called on her about his progress.
She stayed behind as Jiki and the guard walked towards the main clan compound. As they walked away, she felt him grow even more distant. His movements smoothed out and the walls formed once again.
She could not help him there, in the battles he would face. But she could always make sure he had a comfortable home to get back to, a place where he wouldn't have to be one of the next clan head candidates and simply be her little Jiki.
With that last comforting thought, she stiffened her back and turned back to the two maids, directing them to clean up his outdoor studio.
xxxx
SHOKO
Letting out a heavy sigh, she breathed out and stopped her cursed energy from reconstructing itself from Negative to positive.
She took her hands off Jiki's head before letting out a heavy yawn and stretching her back. Jiki took it as an invitation to sit up, his bone-white hair falling down his shoulders, giving him a soft and fragile look.
She almost stretched her hand to pull on his cute little cheeks before stopping herself. She remembered the damage his fight with the Sorcerer killer did to the tomb corridor. Jiki was no fragile child to be cuddled and pampered. He was usually a bastion of Stoic apathy most of the time so very unlike his cousin.
A strand of hair fell over his face, and he puffed up his cheeks to blow them away, revealing gray-white eyes. She let out a short giggle at the scene before walking behind him to help him pack it up in the bun he preferred, Although she realized his hair was getting too much to keep it tied up for long.
"Improvements?" She asked ignoring his cute frown. He turned to face her before looking around the room that had been assigned to them.
"some colors," he said slowly stepping down from the bed he had been resting for the past two hours. "The brown of the floorboard, the white glare of the bulbs, and the soft brown of your hair" he finished looking at her.
The charmer, she let out a soft smile before finally giving in to the urge and pulling his cheeks.
"If you're done then, Ieiri-sama" Her smile swiftly adjusted into a frown at the kimono-clad man who stepped up to them.
She knew of the four others who stood guard outside, waiting for the slightest threat from her. They wouldn't have tried this if Satoru was here. They would not have even dared come anywhere close, but alas Satoru was busy chasing the tracks of the sorcerer killer while a thoroughly disillusioned Suguru had up and gone rogue.
Letting out another heavy sigh, she noted she had been sighing more often than usual. Bring out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter she started to walk back out, Jiki only needed three more sessions, and she was sure he was going to return to being the child that made the other clans worry so much about what the Gojo's were feeding their children.
Unfortunately, he had proven inept at the reversed curse energy technique just like his cousin had originally, which was of course certainly in no way her fault, not a chance.
"Thanks a lot, Shoko-san" She waved him off and continued walking out, before remembering the gift she brought him.
"Here take this" She rummaged in her pocket for a second before finding and tossing him the small package. "Suguru sent it over. A thank you gift for saving his life back then". The throw started to go off course before he snapped his hand out and grabbed the package midair, without even looking.
She Ignored the uncanny spatial awareness and athletic feat that she was certain was above her's before hustling out of the room even faster. She was not sure how Jiki would take the news of Suguru's deeds, and she would rather not be the one to tell him. Let his cousin face that drama, what she would give to watch it with popcorn in hand.