Chapter 24

Chapter 24

"Bai Jie, why are you so badly injured? The ones you were dealing with were just ordinary smugglers, right?" Old Zhang took out bandages from the medical kit and asked as he treated the wound.

Bai Jie tugged hard at his hair, strands falling with a rustle, and within seconds, the floor was covered with hair.

Don't even mention it, it just makes him angrier.

"Don't even ask, I ran into a mad dog from my own clan!"

Rewind to a few hours earlier.

Bai Jie had just finished dealing with a wanted criminal wandering the border and found a place to rest and recover his strength.

In the blink of an eye, the world spun around him, and he encountered a temporal anomaly and found himself in a mountain forest.

Temporal disruptions were common, especially for people like him who handled time-space incidents—it happened to them at least once a year.

The turbulence would send a person to the world best suited for them.

Naturally, Bai Jie was sent to his father’s ninja world. That was to be expected.

It wasn’t his first time dealing with this; in ten minutes, someone would locate him, and things would resolve on their own.

However, fate had other plans. At that moment, an icy, piercing gaze, like a blade made of ice, pinned him down!

Bai Jie's muscles instantly tensed. In his line of sight appeared a man with short black hair, black eyes, and wearing a red shirt with a fan pattern—his clansman.

Before Bai Jie could greet him, the man spoke directly: "You come from the same world as her, don't you?"

His voice carried an unshakable certainty—more of a statement than a question.

As he spoke, his Sharingan spun, and his hand reached straight for Bai Jie’s neck: "You know her. Let me see your memories."

In an instant, Bai Jie realized: his clansman had likely been completely fooled by some modern beauty and, full of resentment, wanted to catch him to get information.

A fight broke out in an instant. Bai Jie prided himself on being a genius, unbeatable far and wide, but his opponent was no pushover either.

The three tomoe in his Sharingan spun faster, and a green skeletal frame wrapped around him.

It was Susanoo!

"Itachi, are you just going to watch?"

Only then did Bai Jie notice a third person at the scene!

A red Susanoo and a green one—two against one, no fair.

If the temporal turbulence hadn’t stopped and sent him back, he might have been done for.

"Chief, you have no idea!" Bai Jie slammed his fist onto the table; the solid wood groaned under the impact.

"That guy can use Susanoo! I don’t know which beauty pissed off my clansman, but she dumped him! Doesn’t she know all Uchiha are crazy?"

With too much force, blood oozed through the freshly wrapped bandages on Bai Jie, but anger clouded his judgment, and he kept running his mouth with curses and complaints.

For example: "If you mess with an Uchiha, you take responsibility properly!" "And she was a heartbreaker, leading two on!" "Doesn’t she know that leaving bonds behind lets the Sharingan lock on? One crazy guy isn’t enough, it has to be two who can use Susanoo!" and so on.

The quiet, cramped living room instantly grew noisy.

"How did the Uchiha, besides Izuna, produce a brat like you, so talkative…" The voice carried a hint of resignation and a trace of nostalgia for the past.

This whisper was as quiet as a mosquito's hum, but it didn’t escape Bai Jie’s ears.

Instantly, his gaze locked onto the source of the sound: Old Li, the village chief from next door.

Bai Jie drew the tachi from his waist: "Isn’t it normal for a nephew to take after his uncle? What’s wrong with my uncle? I’m a handsome guy, just like him!"

With that, Bai Jie slashed at Old Li. The two started fighting in the living room. On a normal day, someone would stop them, but with everyone exhausted, they let them fight it out.

At the head of the village, blades flashed; at the other end, it was silent. In Xia Xiyin’s home, Gojo Satoru came out of the bathroom, wringing the towel half-dry.

*

He walked to the bed, leaned down, and gently wiped the dirt off Xia Xiyin’s legs.

Her fair legs were scratched and muddy; he had to move carefully to avoid the wounds. Her curled body trembled slightly—whether Gojo was pressing too hard or her skin was just too delicate.

A hint of doubt rose in his heart. He only lightly brushed against her, but a mark was left on her pale calf.

Were all girls like this, or is it just her?

"Geto," Gojo said, avoiding sensitive areas while wiping, "Is she in pain?"

Xia Xiyin’s original clothes were no longer wearable. So, Suguru Geto had taken a set of cream-white pajamas from the wardrobe—short-sleeved top and shorts—to help wash her body.

Now, it seemed that choice wasn’t ideal.

She had just come in from outside with injuries and cold, wearing only thin short sleeves and shorts. The exposed skin felt icy cold, combined with possible blood loss and shock…

Suguru Geto reached out to feel her forehead; his eyes widened.

As expected—Xia Xiyin had indeed developed a fever.

Seeing this, he picked up the blanket from the bed, draped it over her upper body, and tucked it in.

"Gojo, Xiyin has a fever." Suguru Geto’s voice dropped as he quickly assessed the situation. "Watch her first. I’ll go downstairs to get fever medicine and warm water."

With that he turned and quickly left the room, heading downstairs to look for the medical kit.

In the room, only Gojo Satoru remained, along with Xia Xiyin, whose breathing was slightly rapid and whose brows were furrowed.

His gaze roamed over her. Her upper body was wrapped in the blanket, leaving only her neck and flushed face visible.

His broad palm cupped her cheek. The feverish woman instinctively leaned into the heat source, rubbing against his hand and letting out whimpers and sobs.

His gaze moved to her lower body. Since one side was scratched, Suguru Geto hadn’t covered her with the blanket; the exposed skin had a slight red flush.

He moved his hand from her cheek, gripped her trembling thigh, and slid down along the length of her leg until he reached her ankle.

The lower he went, the colder the temperature became, especially her feet—a stark contrast to her scorching forehead.

Seeing this, he wrapped his hand around her curled toes and foot, holding them tightly, pressing them close.

He shifted around Xia Xiyin to the middle of the bed, crossed his legs, lifted her slender legs up, and intertwined his legs with hers to share warmth.

The woman on the bed, feeling the heat source, curled up, tightening her slender legs to draw more heat.

"Xiyin, you're too tight."

Previously, Xia Xiyin would have loosened her legs upon hearing that, but she was barely conscious and instinct took over.

At this moment, Gojo Satoru was trapped by her legs and couldn't move.

He could only be pinned to the bed, reluctantly acting as a human heating pad.

Suguru Geto quickly returned from downstairs, holding fever-reducing medicine, a cup of warm water, and a syringe.

He met Gojo Satoru's gaze and saw the two tangled together and frowned slightly.

But he had no time to dwell on it; he sat at the head of the bed, gently lifted Xia Xiyin to sit her up, and let her rest against his chest.

Holding the cup with his left hand, he wrapped his right arm around her, lifted her chin, pried her slightly chapped lips open, and placed the pill on her tongue.

He brought the cup to her lips and slowly tilted it, letting the water trickle down.

"Xi Yin, open up, time to take your medicine." His voice was extremely gentle, a coaxing tone.

However, Xia Xiyin was unconscious and showed no response.

Her lips moved slightly, but she couldn't swallow the water; instead, it ran down the corner of her mouth, along her jaw, dripping onto her neck and soaking the front of her shirt.

Watching from the side, Gojo Satoru's brows were knitted into a tight knot.

Suguru Geto said nothing, just dabbed at the spilled medicine with a tissue, his expression calm, and tried a different method.

To be honest, he didn't want to use the syringe to administer the medicine, but at this moment there was no other choice.

Gripping her cheeks, he applied slight force, forcing her mouth open just a crack, aiming toward her throat, and slowly squeezed the medicine in.

"Ugh..."

Xia Xiyin let out a pained whimper, her body twitched as if struggling, and her teeth clenched unconsciously, nearly biting the syringe. More of the liquid was choked out, spilling onto the front of her pajamas and over Suguru Geto's hand.

He tried several more times, but it was the same every time.

Beads of sweat formed on Suguru Geto's forehead, and his brows drew together. He looked down at the medicine stains, then at her face, flushed with fever, still unable to get her to take the medicine.

This was more complicated than he thought.

If this continued, not only would the medicine not go in, but it could cause other problems from choking. The cup was nearly empty. He drew a deep breath, and his eyes met Gojo Satoru's.

They both knew the usual way of giving medicine wouldn't work on someone so deeply unconscious.

"Geto," Gojo Satoru said, staring at the remaining half cup of water, "did you bring the powdered fever reducer?"

Since the pill-in-water method wasn't working, they would try another method.

Suguru Geto said frankly, "I did, but if she can't drink the water, it's useless."

Gojo Satoru's expression faltered, and a determined look appeared on his face.

He knew what Satoru's method was, but at this moment it was the only way—it was just tough on Shion-chan.

To prevent the person in his arms from slipping down, he tucked her small head against his neck with his right hand, wrapped his arm around her waist, and held her firmly.

Biting the corner of the medicine packet, he tore it open, poured all the granules into the cup, and stirred continuously until it turned yellow.

He handed the cup to Gojo Satoru and shifted the woman in his arms forward.

Gojo Satoru took the cup, tilted his head back and poured the liquid into his mouth, holding it all in one gulp. He placed his large hand on the back of her head, gently pulled her close, and leaned her against him.

He leaned down slightly, aligning his lips with hers—jelly-soft and slightly chapped.

In the moment of lip-to-lip contact, his tongue forced open her tightly clenched teeth and passed the medicine from his mouth into hers. During this, the pill stuck on her tongue was pushed in by his tongue.

As the foreign object invaded her mouth, Xia Xiyin was forced to swallow, struggling and trying to spit it out.

Gojo Satoru sensed her intention, lifted her chin, and let the medicine flow down her throat.

The bitter taste of the medicine flooded his mouth, unbearable.

But he remained silent, without complaint; over and over, he repeated the process until the medicine in the cup was gone and all of it had gone down her throat.

A few last drops remained on Gojo Satoru's lips, and he licked them away with his tongue.

Only the searing warmth of his lips lingered.

Gojo Satoru looked at Suguru Geto with a calm expression and said, "Here you go."

With that, he laid Xia Xiyin flat on the bed, wrapped the blanket around her upper body, and tucked the corners to prevent cold air from getting in.

Suguru Geto took the empty cup, placed it on the bedside table, and turned to get a new wet towel to continue trying to cool her down physically.

The two men were silent, tacitly agreeing not to mention what just happened, neither intending to bring it up.

"Geto, when she was in danger, part of my Cursed Energy was drained away, just like this morning. What about you?"

Gojo Satoru changed the subject without changing his expression.

After they went out that evening, they didn't head toward the mountain at first, but followed the path Xia Xiyin usually took.

Suddenly an electric current ran through his whole body; Gojo Satoru still remembered that feeling—his heart being yanked by an invisible thread.

His Cursed Energy surged in the direction of the mountainside, and it was at that moment that he and Geto changed course.

Finally, at the edge of the barrier, they saw Xia Xiyin, covered in blood and staggering toward them.

What about Geto?

He had followed him without a word—was it the same for him?

"My Cursed Energy should have been borrowed at the same time as yours."

"Although it was very subtle, not even enough to activate a basic Sorcerer technique. But that feeling of being 'directionally drawn out'—I couldn't be mistaken. It was the same nature as the abnormality I vaguely sensed this morning."

As soon as Suguru Geto finished speaking, his large, warm hand wrapped around her slender hand, trying to warm it.

The truth of the matter had surfaced:

First, the Cursed Energy drains at both time points all came from Xia Xiyin alone. In the morning it was an indirect 'attempt to use', and in the evening it was a direct, large-scale 'application'.

Second, Xia Xiyin possessed an ability that the two of them didn't understand, likely related to their being here. Moreover, this ability seemed able to connect to and drain other people's Cursed Energy for her own use.

Suguru Geto's gaze fell on her burning cheek, and he reached his hand toward the tip of her nose; her warm breath brushed against his fingertips.

In contrast to her formidable ability, Xia Xiyin herself was extremely weak.

"Xiyin... might not know much about her own ability, or perhaps this is her first time using it, and she doesn't understand the burden and risk of the ability. Otherwise, there's no way to explain her current state."

They were on the same page without saying a word.

More unsolved mysteries kept piling up: the curse that sent them ten years into the future, the strange barrier, Xia Xiyin's ability, the village's seemingly ordinary residents...

All of it twisted together, creating a picture that was even more confusing—and yet even harder to look away from.

The biggest question remained: would they really be able to go back on this month's full moon?

Geto looked at their clasped hands, at Gojo Satoru's focused expression, then at the woman on the bed, her labored breathing.

"Whatever her ability is," Gojo finally spoke, his voice flat but with a near-declarative tone, "we'll talk about it when she wakes up."

As he spoke, his slender fingers gripped her trembling calf.

Time passed, and the clock's hands pointed to eleven. It was time to rest, but both remained seated on the edge of the bed, neither intending to return to their own room.

Suguru Geto stroked Xia Xiyin's cheek; it was still burning hot. Instead of resting, the priority was to confirm with Gojo who would look after the patient.

So he was the first to break the silence: "Gojo, Xiyin needs someone to look after her. You or me?"

The instant the question left his lips, Gojo answered without hesitating: "I'll stay and keep watch tonight."

He said it with complete certainty, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Gojo felt it was only natural—all the way here, Xiyin had kept murmuring "eyes," and these injuries might have been taken for his sake.

And... Gojo felt as if a snake were coiling around his heart, tightening relentlessly.

If he couldn't check on her condition tonight, he wouldn't be able to rest.

But Suguru didn't agree right away.

"Are you sure, Gojo?" Suguru said calmly, pointing out, "Xiyin might run a fever again tonight. You'll need to keep a close eye on her condition; she might get thirsty in the middle of the night. You probably won't get much sleep..."

As he spoke, he glanced at his best friend out of the corner of his eye.

Gojo's pupils narrowed as he locked his gaze on Xia Xiyin, following her every move.

"Geto," Gojo interrupted him, his tone firm and unyielding, "I'll look after her tonight. You take over tomorrow."

As he spoke, his eyes never left Xiyin's face—focused to an obsessive degree.

The corners of his mouth drooped slightly. He knew—he knew very well—that when it came to caring for someone, handling such small but constant tasks, Geto was definitely... more reliable than he was.

His hand unconsciously reached for her cheek, fingertips stroking the pale skin, cupping her entire face.

But... he wanted to stay. That was all.

Two different hands, one on each side, completely cradled Xia Xiyin's face.

"Tomorrow—wait until tomorrow," Gojo finally relented. "I'll leave her in your hands then, Geto."

As he spoke, his azure Six Eyes fixed on Suguru Geto, like the sky before a storm—seemingly clear but filled with danger.

Once the storm struck, everything on the ground would be torn away.

Suguru met that persistent gaze, paused for a moment, then abruptly stood up. He dipped the now-cool towel into the basin, wrung it out, and laid it flat on the nightstand within arm's reach.

"Gojo, there's a cot in the attic. I'll bring it down for you." With that, he didn't stay any longer. He quietly exited the room and gently closed the door behind him.

*

The pitch-black night spilled over the windowsill. Outside, dark clouds gathered and a light drizzle fell. Inside, the moonlight fell on the man's profile, dim and hazy.

"Thirsty..."

A hoarse whisper broke the heavy silence and pulled the man back to his senses.

He rose from the cot, sat on the edge of the bed, gently propped Xiyin up by the shoulders, and brought the water glass to her lips.

This time, Xiyin swallowed and drank instinctively, making a gurgling sound.

Once her throat was moistened, her brow relaxed. Her head unconsciously nuzzled against Gojo's arm before she sank back into deep sleep.

After making sure she was okay, he gently placed her head on the pillow and tucked the blanket tightly. Done with that, Gojo sat back down on the cot.

The steady sound of her breathing reached his ears—alternating deep and shallow.

That sound seemed to become his anchor, gradually calming his mind.

The cot was wide, but for a man his height, it was still too small and cramped. He could only bend one long leg, let the other hang casually over the edge, and arch his back slightly to find a position that wasn't completely uncomfortable.

The night’s guardian watched over the woman by the bed, unmoving, like the Little Prince guarding his unique rose.

At some late hour, Gojo still hadn't closed his eyes.

He heard heavy, ragged breathing. He sat on the edge of the bed and felt Xiyin's forehead.

No fever—so why was her breathing so labored?

As he wondered this, the woman murmured, "Cold..."

Xiyin curled into a ball, shivering uncontrollably, her body instinctively seeking warmth. Then, she grabbed Gojo's hand, pulling him off-balance, and he fell onto the bed.

With a loud thud, the bed bounced twice. She pressed closer and closer, her whole body squeezing into his arms.

This movement made Gojo freeze. He instinctively tried to push himself up—and he succeeded. He couldn't justify sharing a bed with her without a good reason.

He pulled back slightly, supporting himself with one hand on the bed, but Xiyin seemed to sense the warmth leaving. She instinctively wrapped her arms around Gojo's waist.

With another thud, Gojo fell back onto the bed.

She rested her head on his broad arm, pressed her forehead against him, rubbed her flushed cheek against his chest, and curled up in his arms like a tiny creature.

Gojo gazed at the slight smile on Xia Xiyin's lips, silent, letting her cling to his warm body.

He thought to himself, just for tonight.

His slender hand lifted the blanket and covered them both. Then, he wrapped his arm around her delicate waist, pulling her tight against him.

He rested his chin on top of Xiyin's head, slowly closed his eyes, and sank into deep slumber together with her.

Only the moon and the stars witnessed this scene.

That was how it should have remained.

Across the sea, at the same time.

There were no lights, no worried guardians, no woman burning up with fever. There was only a mountain of corpses, severed limbs, and scattered pieces of flesh.

The sound of cursed spirits tearing and biting filled his ears. Gojo Satoru stood alone at the center of hell. He slowly pulled off his black blindfold. The Six Eyes glimmered in the moonlight, reflecting no emotion.

He just stood there quietly, watching.

In about three seconds, with just a raise of his hand, the remaining cursed spirits didn't even leave a corpse behind.

No explosion, no flames, no trace of their existence remained, as if they had never existed in this world.

The stench of blood and the dampness after rain filled the air, making him feel sick.

Yet, Gojo Satoru breathed steadily, enjoying a rare moment of peace.

Why? He couldn't help but ask.

Amid a mountain of corpses, his mind was calm. Someone had soothed away all his fatigue.

Who? Who was that person?

Thinking of her, Gojo Satoru teleported and stood in front of the dormitory room at Jujutsu High. He pushed open the unlatched door and stepped inside.

Cold moonlight poured in, outlining the shadows of the furniture.

It was spotless here. He unconsciously walked to the sofa and stared straight at it, his gaze so intense it could burn a hole through it.

Instinct told him the sofa in his home shouldn't be like this. Yet, in ten years, the sofa had never changed, standing there, unchanged.

His memory must be wrong.

Gojo Satoru silently walked to the bed and collapsed onto it like a hollowed puppet. He lay on his side. Somehow, his brain made him lift his arm and embrace the empty space in front of him.

In the end, he could only embrace himself.

After all, there was nothing in front of him...

At first he was wary of her, suspecting someone had placed a curse on him.

Later, he accepted it, grew used to the caring whispers at his ear.

Now, it is infatuation and resentment—resenting how that emotion invaded his senses without restraint.

Author's Note: Remember the author's note in chapter one? Affection is cumulative; 285 has vague memories.