(A/N: Deadlines really fked me sideway sadge.)
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At the meeting place, Geto and Gojo arrived at the location where the Star Plasma Vessel was said to be hidden. The two sorcerers moved leisurely, aware that the Star Plasma Vessel was being protected in a secure place, giving them a bit of downtime before the real action began.
On their way, they stopped at a vending machine. Geto selected a grape soda for Gojo while Geto himself picked something more bitter, a canned coffee—an odd metaphor yet befitting for his current mood.
They sat on a nearby bench under the shadow of a tall building, cans in hand, with the summer sun casting long, lazy beams over the street. Watching these ordinary people crowded the street didn't make Geto's mood any better; it was just a lingering bitter taste in his mouth of coffee and his mistake.
"Living just to serve as a vessel for someone else... It's gotta feel like a cruel joke." Geto handed his soda to Gojo as he spoke, a distant weight pressing on his words.
The idea of the mission had bothered him from the moment he received it, and now it gnawed at the back of his mind like an insidious and vicious sludge that threatened to break his shell. The mere thought of a young girl carrying such a fate made his insides twist terribly.
Gojo popped open the soda with a sharp hiss, taking a sip without paying much attention to Geto's tone. "Yeah, well, she's only fourteen. But weaklings don't really get a say now do they?" He replied, casually dismissing the notion of his friend, as if talking about someone else's life was no different from discussing the weather.
Geto fell silent momentarily, the word weaklings stuck in his thoughts like a cord he hadn't realized was there. His gaze dropped to his hands, noticing how they had instinctively curled into fists.
The faces of Mrs.Yashida and her grandson drifted into his mind—ordinary people he'd saved on a mission not long ago or at least the people he tried to save.
Geto could still feel the sting of their silent rejection and distrust toward sorcerers, the very people who'd fought to protect them.
He started to wonder whether it was worth it to save these ordinary people. He had saved many of them and this was a failure on his part.
"...Weakling, huh?" he murmured, his lips curling into a self-deprecating smile.
Gojo raised an eyebrow but said nothing, fairly used to these cryptic moments from his friend.
Geto's mind drifted further, recalling the words Makima had once said to him: "A heart of gold doesn't mean you can protect anyone." And she was right. Good intentions weren't enough. He had seen it firsthand—time and time again, no matter how many people he saved, the disdain toward the Sorcerers, who protected them, remained.
"Hey, Gojo," Geto spoke again, his tone was hushed and heavy as if it was almost to himself. "Do you think... it's really our duty to protect the weak?"
Gojo glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "What kind of question is that? You're the one who's always been preaching about protecting people. Why ask me now?"
Geto slumped further onto the bench, his posture unusually defeated. "Just... humor me," he muttered, the bitterness in his voice barely audible.
Gojo rolled his eyes. "You're overthinking this. It's simple: I don't care about the weak. Never did and never will." He took another sip of soda, the cool fizz offering a small comfort. "You get powers, you use 'em for what matters to you. The strongest gets everything. End of story."
Geto grimaced, feeling frustration bubbling inside him. "That's such a childish way to think, Gojo. We're given power for a reason. It has to mean something."
Gojo tilted his sunglasses down just enough to give Geto an exaggerated look. "You already know my answer. Stop asking dumb questions."
The smug expression on Gojo's face made Geto's last patience snap. He clenched his soda can in his hand tightly, resisting the urge to throw it at Gojo's annoying face. "You're such a fucking idiot sometimes. Let's do it right now."
A familiar ripple of energy shimmered behind Geto, and in the blink of an eye, one of his summoned Cursed Spirits emerged, looming over the two of them.
"Oh, so we're doing this now?" Gojo grinned, his excitement rising. His hand twitched as he readied a Blue technique and applied it to his hand, prepared to counter any attack.
Geto, not the one to back down easily, said with a glint in his eyes. "You've been asking for this, dumbass. Let's settle the score."
But before they could trade blows, a deafening explosion shook the air, causing both of them to turn toward the sound.
From the top of a nearby high-rise, a figure plummeted toward the ground, her silhouette flickering against the sun.
"Looks like our target," Gojo muttered, whistling as if he didn't see anything wrong here.
"Guess we'll have to do this later." Geto sighed, though the irritation lingered in his voice. With a flick of his hand, he summoned his Rainbow Dragon, the vibrant spirit spiraling out from behind him. It gleamed under the sun as Geto leaped onto its back, soaring upward to intercept the falling girl.
In one smooth motion, Geto caught her mid-air, cradling her limp form. The force of the explosion had rendered her unconscious, and her small body sagged against him as if she had merely fallen asleep.
With a tired sigh, Geto descended, landing gracefully on a nearby rooftop. He laid the girl—Riko Amanai—on a worn couch that someone had left behind, and his eyes scanned the area. The maid assigned to protect Riko was lying unconscious, bound, and gagged in the corner.
Geto made quick work of freeing her before turning to the man responsible for the ambush—a Q executive who had been trying to escape unnoticed. The man was blustering and cursing, his bravado grating on Geto's nerves.
"Care to explain what you were trying to accomplish?" Geto asked, though his tone made it clear he wasn't in the mood for games.
The executive sneered, his mouth running faster than his brain. "You won't get away with this! Our assassin's already taken care of that white-haired friend of yours."
Geto rolled his eyes. "Right... Gojo? Taken down? Yeah, sure."
Tink—
A notification buzzed on Geto's phone. He pulled it out lazily, and a smug grin spread across his face when he saw the message: a photo of Gojo grinning obnoxiously over the unconscious body of the so-called "best assassin."
"Is this the guy you were bragging about?" Geto held his phone up for the executive to see.
The man's expression crumpled instantly. "That... that's him..." he stammered, the fight draining from him.
"Thought so." Geto's smile turned cold. "Now, are you going to tell me what I want to know, or do I have to ask again? Nicely, of course."
The executive broke in record time, spilling every bit of useless information he knew. When it became clear the man had nothing valuable to offer, Geto knocked him out with a swift punch and dusted off his hands.
A few moments later, he regrouped with Gojo, who was holding Riko with one arm while casually examining her condition.
"Think she needs a doctor?" Gojo asked, tilting his head.
"If only Shoko were here," Geto muttered, shaking his head.
Just then, Riko stirred awake. Without prior warning, she slapped Gojo hard across the face, the sharp smack echoing through the corridor.
Geto rolled over in laughter as Gojo rubbed his reddened cheek, glaring at the girl. "What the hell was that for!?"
"If you're gonna kill someone, kill yourself first!" Riko shot back, raising her fists in a comically poor attempt at a fighting stance.
Gojo muttered dejectedly. "What kind of kid is this?!"
Still laughing, Geto added with a somewhat serious expression, "Don't fret, she is a nice kid."
This caught Riko's attention and she snapped at him, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, right… as if I'd believe that." Riko huffed, pointing at Geto. "And you! You look like a liar with that ugly bang of yours. Go to a barber first before killing me, you fraud!"
Geto's smile faltered for a moment. "You know what? I take it back. This kid got a venomous tongue."
Gojo groaned while rubbing his reddened cheek. "We're stuck with her, aren't we?"
"Yup." Geto chuckled, hoisting the maid onto one of his Cursed Spirits.
The two sorcerers exchanged a glance—somewhere between exasperation and amusement—and an idea popped up in their head in sync.
They grabbed Riko's arms and legs then twisted her like a wet rag, a little trolling on their part but hey, she earned it. She did however resist but of course, she was no match for the two Sorcerers as they tortured her through and through.
Her voice turned pleading as they pulled her legs and arms but it was futile. "Uwaaaaa!?! Stop, stop, stop!!!" I'm gonna die!! I'm really going to die!!!"
The maid came to rescue as she explained to Riko that Geto and Gojo were really on their side and they would be escorting her to Tengen. At that explanation did Riko accept the fact that they were not the mercenary sent to kill her.
However, the two Sorcerers continued their torture a little bit before dropping her to the floor with a thud sound. Her eyes moistened with tears that threatened to flow out. With a pitiful look, she communed to her maid with those teary eyes as she glared at the two with hatred.
They ignored her with a comical look and went to discuss the star that was trendy these days. That was how they met Riko Amanai, the target of this mission.
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In the meanwhile…
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Shiu Kong's voice blasted through Toji's phone, panicked and exasperated. "Have you finally lost your mind?! You've already taken the job from the Star Religious Group, and now you've taken on another one? Are you trying to get me killed here?! How am I going to explain it to them?!"
Toji, casually slurping his noodles in a bustling ramen shop, held the phone away from him to avoid the full brunt of Shiu's rant. With a lazy tone, he responded, "Relax, it's not like I can't handle it." His words were as nonchalant as if they were discussing dinner plans rather than high-stakes assassination jobs.
A pause hung on the line as Shiu struggled to process Toji's calmness in this tense situation. His confusion was almost palpable. "So... what do you mean?"
"Like I said, I'll do both commissions." Toji replied, stirring his noodles. "The first job just wants me to kill the girl. The second one? All they need is a little time delay. Simple enough."
The silence from Shiu lasted longer this time. "Fine, fine," he relented, though his tone was wary.
"But didn't you put the reward up on the black market? What happens if someone actually manages to claim it?"
Toji glanced up at the muted TV hung on the restaurant wall, which flashed the latest headlines of the news. He smirked, imagining the frenzy that might be erupting in the criminal underground. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure the bounty will keep them busy. Besides, I doubt anyone can get it with that guy around."
"I mean The Gojo Satoru," he added, savoring the name as if it were part of the ramen he was enjoying. His tone held an odd mix of disdain and respect, the kind reserved for someone who was both a pain to deal with and worthy of recognition. After all, that brat was the first one to spot him sneaking behind.
Toji could almost hear Shiu swallow nervously on the other end. Even Shiu, who dealt with dangerous men daily in this line of work, knew Gojo was a monster in his own league.
"You're actually giving him that much credit? Even you?" Shiu's voice softened and almost became a groan, a mix of shock and curiosity. He'd never heard Toji acknowledge anyone this way.
"Hmm, let's see," Toji replied, licking his lips and savoring the rich flavor of the broth. His thoughts wandered momentarily to the recent encounter he'd had with some of the big players out there—like that eerie black knight and the red-haired woman who had given him chills, something he didn't experience often. There was always a bigger predator out there, but Gojo was more than that. The one that was labeled as the strongest Sorcerer in the modern time, was a variable he knew better than to underestimate.
"But then again," he muttered, almost to himself.
Toji chuckled as he finished the last bite of his noodles, feeling the faint thrill that only Gojo and a few others stirred in him. "I do love a good challenge."
Shiu's nervous chuckle crackled over the line, but he couldn't fully mask the tremor in his voice. "Right... that is just the way you're. How's Megumi these days?"
Toji cocked his head as though he was unfamiliar with the name. "Who?"
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(A/N: RAAAAAAAAAAAGHH HOMELESS BUMMMM RAAAAAAAAGHR)