Fumiko and Gojo stepped out of the car onto the compound's driveway.
As they entered, Fumiko's thoughts turned inward, focusing on Gojo's presence beside her.
He's being unusually quiet. What's he planning?
Before entering the compound. There was a thickness in the air. Something heavy that was gently pressing on her.
But when she entered it vanished.
Instead she felt at home. She felt warm and comforted. Like the compound was giving her a hug.
She took a moment to enjoy the tranquillity she suddenly felt.
The sound of laughter coming from adults and children caught her attention. But she didn't dwell on it as she followed Gojo.
From a second-floor balcony overlooking the entrance, a young woman with sharp features and traditional Gojo clan attire watched them enter.
She narrowed her eyes slightly, curious about Fumiko's presence. Seeing the girl's attire her eyebrows rose.
"A student?" she murmured to herself, shaking her head before turning back to her book.
In a garden off to the side, an elderly Gojo relative pruning a bonsai tree looked up briefly.
He recognized Gojo's walk and nodded subtly before returning to shaping a branch. "Satoru's brought someone," he said quietly to himself.
They didn't stop to greet anyone they walked until they entered the main house, sliding doors opening with a soft whoosh.
Fumiko heard the gentle creak of old wooden beams adjusting to their steps and the quiet hum of cursed energy woven into the compound's defenses.
The air smelled like old wood mingling with the faint scent of incense, probably from the ritual spaces within the compound.
Fumiko breathed it in, sensing the weight of tradition in the air.
Fumiko felt curious stares upon her, though she saw no one beyond Gojo.
She knew the compound was watched; by spirits, by cursed objects loyal to the Gojo lineage, maybe even by hidden cameras.
She adjusted her glasses slightly, her cane tapping lightly on the stone path as Gojo led her deeper into the house.
Gojo stopped in a room that seemed to serve as a study or maybe a meditation space.
There was a low table with a tea set waiting, steam rising from a pot in delicate wisps.
Fumiko heard the quiet tick of a clock somewhere in the room, a sound that seemed out of place among the ancient artifacts.
Whybringmehere? she thought curiously.
"You didn't bring me here for tea, did you?" Fumiko asked, her voice neutral.
Gojo smiled faintly, moving to sit at the table. "Not just for tea. Though it's good tea. Uji green tea, one of the best. But we need to talk about the curse...and your seal."
Fumiko hesitated for a moment before joining him at the table. She poured herself a cup, the ceramic making a soft clink as she lifted it to her lips.
"The curse is getting stronger," Fumiko said starting the conversation once more with a topic from earlier, putting her cup down. "I can feel it pressing against the seal more than before."
Gojo leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable behind the blindfold. "We'll need to check the seal's stability. If it weakens further...we might need to consider other measures."
Fumiko's hand instinctively went to her collarbone, where the seal rested. What measures? What does he know that I'm not seeing?
Just as Gojo was about to say more about the seal and the curse, a soft knock sounded at the sliding door. A young messenger in formal Gojo clan attire bowed as he entered.
"Satoru-sama," the messenger said, approaching with a slight bow. "Your parents request your presence. And...the guest's as well."
Gojo let out a low sigh, clearly annoyed at the interruption. "Now? Can't it wait?"
The messenger looked uncomfortable but firm. "They wish to see you both regarding...family matters. Soon."
Gojo rolled his eyes slightly behind his blindfold. "Fine. Tell them we're coming."
The messenger bowed and left as quickly as he'd entered.
Fumiko felt a spike of nervousness. "Your parents?" she asked, looking at Gojo. "I mean Mom, talked about a lot. But I didn't think I'd get the chance to meet them."
Gojo stood up, adjusting his blindfold slightly. "Yeah. My parents. Your grandparents. You'll be...fine. They're curious about you, I guess."
Fumiko stood, her cane tapping the tatami mat lightly. She smoothed her uniform slightly, feeling out of place.
Gojo gestured toward the door. "Let's get this over with. They're in the main receiving room. Try not to...get too interrogated."
Fumiko nodded, though she felt a twist in her stomach. What do they want? What do they think of me?
Gojo led the way through winding corridors to a more formal part of the compound.
Fumiko heard the sound of low conversation ahead, stopping just outside a large receiving room with sliding doors partly open.
The moment the sliding doors opened,
Fumiko felt a sharp jolt of nervous energy flood through her body. Standing at the threshold of the main receiving room, she saw them: Gojo's parents, her grandparents, for the first time. The room before her was vast, bathed in warm light from the paper lanterns overhead, and the scent of incense lingered in the air, just like it had in the rest of the compound. But it was the people in the room that made her stomach twist.
Her grandfather sat on one side of a low, lacquered table, his posture straight, almost rigid. His features were sharp, his eyes the same piercing blue that Gojo had but his was duller, though his were less playful, more serious, like an unspoken challenge. His white hair was neatly combed, and his robes were immaculate, typical of someone who held deep respect for the family's traditions and legacy.
Her grandmother, seated across from him, had the same cold, calculating presence, but with an elegance that seemed to command the room. Her dark hair was streaked with silver, neatly pulled back into a low bun, and her gaze was fixed on Fumiko with an intensity that was both intimidating and curious. Her expression was unreadable, but the way she studied Fumiko made Fumiko feel like a puzzle she was trying to solve.
It was a strange feeling, meeting them for the first time. In her mind, Fumiko had already imagined them, seen them in stories told by her mother, Akari, but this… this was different. They were real. And they were looking at her like she was a stranger. A part of her wanted to shrink away, to hide behind Gojo, but another part, the part that had come all this way, refused to let fear dictate her actions.
Gojo, however, seemed completely at ease. He didn't even flinch as he pushed the doors open wider, stepping inside with his typical lazy swagger, his blindfolded gaze drifting between his parents.
"Well, well, look at you two, all prim and proper, waiting for me. You didn't think I'd show up, did you?" Gojo said, grinning widely, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. He walked further into the room, clearly unfazed by the tension in the air.
The man at the table, her grandfather, didn't even flinch at Gojo's tone. Instead, he merely raised an eyebrow. "Satoru, always the same. We asked for your presence, not your banter."
Fumiko watched, her heart racing, as Gojo dropped into a seat without waiting for any formality. He leaned back, throwing a hand behind his head in the most casual of poses, clearly unbothered by the formality of the room.
"Relax, old man. I came, didn't I?" Gojo's voice was playful, though there was a definite edge to it that only someone like his father might catch.
Her grandmother, who had been quiet up until this point, finally spoke, her voice cold but not unkind. "You've grown used to ignoring authority, I see. Even in your own family. Who is this child you brought , then?"
Gojo smirked, waving a hand towards Fumiko, who was still standing by the door, unsure of what to do. "Yeah, yeah, the child's here. Can't get rid of me without her." He gestured for Fumiko to join them.
Fumiko's throat tightened. This was it. She stepped forward slowly, making her way to the table. The moment she crossed the threshold of the room, she could feel the weight of their gazes on her, like they were sizing her up, calculating what kind of person she was, what kind of legacy she carried.
Gojo stood up as she reached the table, making a big show of it. "This," he said, dramatically sweeping his hand in her direction, "is Fumiko. My niece." He said it almost as though he was presenting a new toy, making light of the situation in that signature Gojo way.
Her grandmother's face didn't change at first. Her grandfather, however, blinked, his expression sharpening.
"Fumiko?" Her grandmother's voice was softer now, and Fumiko couldn't tell if that was a good sign or not. "Your niece, Satoru?"
Gojo's parents exchanged a brief, silent look before turning back to Fumiko. The air between them thickened.
Fumiko swallowed, trying not to let the weight of their silence crush her. She shifted uncomfortably, adjusting her glasses, feeling suddenly very small.
"Yes," Gojo said, not missing a beat. "I know it's a bit of a shock, but you know how it is. Akari ran off a long time ago, left everything behind, but… here she is." He gestured to Fumiko with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.
Fumiko's mind raced as her grandmother's gaze softened. There was a flicker of something, maybe recognition, maybe concern, before it quickly became masked again. "Akari… She ran away." Her voice trailed off, and her fingers tightened slightly around the edges of her robe.
Fumiko felt an odd pang of discomfort at the mention of her mother's departure. She had heard stories about her mother running away from home when Fumiko was just a baby, but hearing her grandmother say it so plainly made it feel real, like a piece of the family puzzle was missing. And she was the one left to fill the hole.
Gojo smirked, clearly amused by their reactions. "Yeah, she left. But Fumiko's still part of this family, whether you like it or not." His tone held a teasing note, though there was an undercurrent of something deeper, something almost like… defiance.
Her grandfather's eyes narrowed slightly, as if he hadn't quite processed the situation. "And you brought her here, Satoru? After all this time?" His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, one that made Fumiko's chest tighten.
Gojo shrugged casually. "I figured it was time. And hey, she's family. Can't keep her away from her roots forever, right?"
Fumiko shifted uncomfortably again. She wanted to speak, to say something, but her throat felt dry, and the weight of the moment pressed down on her. She could feel the expectation hanging in the air, the expectation that she, too, would reveal something about herself, about her connection to this family, that would justify her presence in this room.
But what did she have to say? She was just the daughter of the woman who had left years ago, the woman who seemed to have left behind all ties to this family. Fumiko was the result of something lost, something abandoned.
Her grandmother's voice broke through the tension. "We'll need to discuss this further," she said, her tone steady but laden with meaning. "This is… unexpected."
Fumiko didn't know what to say. "Yes, of course," she said softly, feeling the weight of her mother's absence pressing down on her. She couldn't help but wonder if the reason her mother had left all those years ago was because of them. What would they think of Fumiko now, a reminder of Akari's departure?
Gojo, sensing the heaviness of the moment, clapped his hands together, a loud, cheerful sound that seemed to snap everyone back to reality. "Alright, alright! Enough of this family drama. Let's grab some tea, huh? I'm sure Fumiko's had a long day."
Fumiko gave him a small, grateful smile, though inside, she felt like she was standing at the edge of something far more complicated than she had ever imagined.