Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Dawn quietly emerged from the stillness, light filtering through the locust tree branches, illuminating the two figures on the bed.

Their outlines were clear, their colors vivid—even to Suguru Geto’s eyes. The white steam rising from the porridge in his hands could not blur the scene before him.

In an instant, Gojo Satoru’s eyelids lifted.

Their eyes met. His body still lingered in the warmth of the bed, but he sat up, crossed his legs, and perched on the edge of the mattress, his gaze wandering.

“Suguru, you’re here,” he said. Then, pulling his legs out from under the covers, he flipped the covers and wrapped her up.

Suguru Geto set the bowl of porridge on the nightstand, sat down on the cot, and nodded with a short, “Mm.”

As he looked him over, the anger from last night had faded from Gojo Satoru’s eyes, like debris left by the outgoing tide—wet, exposed, and scattering on the beach, leaving only the clear, pale blue.

His glance flickered to Xia Xiyin, whose cheeks were flushed, her breathing steady. Everything was fine.

Suguru Geto spoke flatly, “Satoru, go eat. I’ll keep watch until she wakes up.”

Even after she wakes up, too.

While Suguru Geto studied him, Gojo Satoru likewise assessed his best friend.

The corner of his mouth curled into a smile, but the light didn’t reach his eyes. The whites were streaked with red, and dark circles shadowed his lower eyelids.

“Suguru,” Gojo Satoru said, looking down at him with certainty, “you didn’t sleep all night.”

Suguru Geto neither confirmed nor denied. He didn’t even lift his head… and even turned the accusation back with the same measured tone:

“You didn’t sleep a wink either.”

The atmosphere grew heavy. Both understood each other’s state all too well.

One had kept vigil in the room all night, nerves taut. The other, though seemingly gone, had hardly closed his eyes—standing guard outside, alert and thinking, through that same sleepless night.

Silence settled between them as they sat together.

After a moment of standoff, Gojo Satoru stood and headed straight for the door. Before leaving, he simply said, “I’ll make lunch.”

The door clicked shut behind him, sealing the space inside and out.

Suguru Geto gazed at the closed door, a faint, almost imperceptible smile curved his lips. For the first time, a trace of warmth reached his eyes.

Then he turned to face Xia Xiyin and whispered, “Xi Yin… thank you and Satoru for all your hard work…”

As he spoke, Xia Xiyin seemed to have heard his voice. An arm slipped out from under the covers and pressed down on the hand he had resting on the edge of the bed.

Suguru Geto froze for a moment, then placed his other hand on her slightly furrowed brow, closed his eyes, and tuned into her heartbeat and breathing.

Only then could he be sure she was truly asleep, not eavesdropping.

“Subconscious mind, huh…”

In her dream, Xia Xiyin was hugging a huge pig’s trotter, her face lit up with excitement.

She wrapped her arms tightly around it, pressed her cheek against the top, and bit into it—the texture felt off, even in her dream.

The fingers were stiff and long. The palm was broad. Worst of all, the meat wasn’t plump and it was pressing into her face!

A dream?

The realization hit like a stone into a deep pool, instantly rippling through her foggy dream.

Suddenly, Xia Xiyin opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was a stretch of skin.

Still groggy, she yawned, her damp lashes fluttering, feeling the soft warmth against them.

Her arms instinctively tightened, pressing her cheek closer, and she let out a low, sleepy whimper.

“…”

As consciousness returned, she froze. She slowly lifted her eyes and swallowed.

What was pressed against her cheek was skin, not a pillow. What was wrapped around her arms were firm, muscular arms, not a stuffed toy. That thing digging into her face—were those fingers and knuckles?

And then, the steady, deep breathing of another person, so close…

Xia Xiyin’s breath hitched and her body stiffened.

Her eyes crept upward. First, the hand that had been completely covering her cheek.

She lowered her gaze. Her arm was wrapped around a solid arm.

Mm, firm and solid. Felt nice.

Ahem, but that wasn’t the main point.

Xia Xiyin slowly lifted her head and met a pair of deep, dark eyes.

His gaze locked onto her like a camera lens. Inside his eyes swirled emotions she couldn’t read—emotions that inexplicably made her heart skip a beat. The heat was so intense it nearly burned her.

She guessed her face must be beet red, and her ears were burning.

Her mind raced. If she said she mistook Suguru’s arm for a pig’s trotter… even though he was a gentle guy, he’d probably be angry. After all, no one wants their arm to be mistaken for food.

But if she said she just liked hugging things when she slept and was using his hand as a pillow… then what about the nibbling and biting?

Was she going to claim she was still in the oral stage, a baby who bites anything she likes?

In the midst of her inner turmoil, her eyes never left his hand. His fingers with prominent knuckles were wet with saliva, looking sticky.

Worse still was his ring finger—marked by a perfect circle of pink teeth marks, glistening and wet. It looked just like a ring, and her cheeks burned at the sight.

Regardless, she had to apologize first.

In a muffled voice, she said, “Suguru, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I just…”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence. Her words were gently cut off.

Suguru Geto’s smile was light, and his voice was incredibly soft. “I’m sorry, Xi Yin.”

Xia Xiyin stared at him in surprise. Why was he apologizing? She was the one who, half-asleep, had mistaken his arm for a “pig’s trotter” and hugged and rubbed it…

Suguru Geto pulled a tissue from the nightstand and wiped his hand dry. After wiping away the moisture, he crumpled the tissue with a little too much force and tossed it into the trash can.

The bin rattled twice from the impact. Then, he grabbed another tissue, and his actions—which had been abrupt and forceful—suddenly switched to the utmost gentleness.

He gently dabbed at the corner of her eye, wiping away only the teardrops from her lashes.

Then he wrapped the tissue around his fingers and, as if coaxing a child, rubbed it in circles around her eyes, wiping away the foreign matter from the corners.

Another crumpled piece of paper was thrown into the trash can with a sharp "swish," as if venting frustration.

"Bang——!"

This time, the bin couldn't withstand the force, fell over, and let out a dull groan.

Seeing this, she ignored everything he had done to her mouth and fixed her gaze on Suguru Geto's face, focused and unyielding.

His purple pupils, even though they were bloodshot, were still as calm as two deep, unfathomable lakes.

This man apologized verbally, with a gentle gaze, yet seemed exhausted, his smile only rippling on the surface of his eyes in small, forced ripples.

Moreover, his movements in throwing the tissue were so rough, but when dealing with Xia Xiyin, it was like caressing a delicate flower, afraid it would shatter at the slightest touch.

This huge contrast—forcing emotions down, still being gentle to others while torturing himself—was very dangerous.

Having experienced the incident with Dazai-san, she was deeply wary of such things.

Xia Xiyin stared at Suguru Geto and questioned, "Why are you apologizing?"

"I failed to protect you," Suguru Geto replied, as if reciting doctrine or convincing himself. "Jujutsu exists to protect non-sorcerers. Jujutsu Sorcerers are meant to protect the weak, to protect ordinary people."

While the man murmured to himself, Xia Xiyin pressed her lips together tightly and gripped the blanket firmly.

He'll be crushed by responsibility, her intuition was buzzing loudly.

"Therefore, letting you encounter danger and suffer such harm is my responsibility..."

"A slap!"

This time, the tables had turned. Suguru Geto's unfinished words were interrupted—not by words, but by a merciless slap.

Xia Xiyin's hand trembled slightly, suspended in the air, her palm slightly numb.

Loud bangs erupted in her chest, her body heaving with intense emotion. Her eyes were wide open, yet her gaze was sharp as a blade, determined to cut through the armor that hid the truth.

"How arrogant, Geto."

Xia Xiyin's voice was very soft, but every word was cold and sharp, like tempered ice.

She leaned forward, cupped the back of his head with her hand, gently pulled him closer, and stared at Suguru Geto with a ferocious gleam.

As their eyes met, a connection was formed, and no one could easily escape.

"What is your definition of an ordinary person? What is your definition of the weak? No cursed energy means ordinary? No power means weak? Perhaps in your eyes, I am weak, but in my eyes, Geto, you are the weak person now."

She uttered the last two words very softly, yet each word carried immense weight.

Suguru Geto's eyelashes trembled violently.

He was weak in Xia Xiyin's eyes?

Xia Xiyin's tone rose, not giving him any chance to breathe, every word a dagger:

"After all, according to your logic, I did nothing wrong. I was fulfilling my responsibility, my duty! Protecting Gojo—who's younger than me—and you. But I won't protect all the weak with my life. I only protect my friends, my family, my lover with everything I've got. If that person wanted the eyes and it had nothing to do with you and Gojo, I wouldn't have fought him at all, wouldn't have gambled my life!"

"I got hurt because I was unlucky enough to run into a bad guy! Because my own abilities were lacking. What does that have to do with whether you, Suguru Geto, 'protected me' or not?"

"Are you belittling someone who staked their life?"

She bit out the name "Geto" especially softly, yet it was a thousand pounds heavy.

As she spoke, Xia Xiyin pressed her hand against his bruised eyelid, her movements gentle, her fingertips rubbing continuously.

In stark contrast, her tone was filled with undisguised, barbed sarcasm.

"Ah, I really am a terrible adult. Look at what I've done to you. Your eyes are bloodshot; I bet you haven't slept all night. Someone who can't take care of himself, who keeps blaming himself, dares to protect others?"

"Or do all powerful sorcerers love the 'strong protect the weak' rhetoric, regardless of their own well-being? Do all sorcerers want to be saviors, unable to distinguish reality from ideals?"

After saying this, her fingertip lightly poked his half-reddened cheek, her attitude firm: "Apologize, Geto."

Suguru Geto stood frozen, still holding his head turned from the slap, completely still.

It wasn't until her words brought him back to his senses, and her warm breath brushed his lips, that he moved.

His mouth, slightly open, closed and then opened again. On his calm face, the mask finally cracked open a slit.

"I... don't know... what kind of apology you want, Xiyin."

After a dozen stunned seconds, he stammered out his answer.

Xia Xiyin's tone was serious: "I don't want the answer from Jujutsu Sorcerer Suguru Geto. I only want Suguru Geto's answer."

The hint was clear enough—how to apologize didn't matter; the key was "him."

"Sorry, I... failed to protect you... as a friend. Sorry, I failed to respect your determination to face the enemy..."

As he spoke, his eyes contracted and began to tremble violently, the pent-up emotions surging out—bewilderment, shock, guilt, and the discomfort of seeing himself anew.

"Sorry, as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, I..."

The words got stuck in his throat, unable to come out for a long time.

It wasn't that he didn't want to, but that he couldn't understand, didn't comprehend. The confusion in his eyes was reflected in Xia Xiyin's eyes.

He had passed her test.

Xia Xiyin buried her head in his warm chest, wrapped her arms around his waist, and finally softened her tone: "Mm, I hear you. And I apologize too. Sorry if you hate me, but even if I could do it again, I'd still slap you."

"You should protect your parents, teachers, siblings, and friends as Suguru Geto, not as a Jujutsu Sorcerer. I hope you understand that piling such an important responsibility onto one person is itself wrong."

"You'll burn out, Geto. I just want you and Gojo to be happy."

As she finished, she buried her head deeper, murmuring "I'm sorry" over and over.

The fabric of his clothes gradually grew damp, her shoulders trembling incessantly. Suguru Geto hugged Xia Xiyin back, pressing her close to his body.

His chin inadvertently rested on the top of her head, his body warmth soothing away her shivers, the two comforting each other.

The taut string finally loosened. He spoke, his tone truly warm, not a facade: "I accept it, Shion-chan. And thank you."

The two were bathed in warm sunlight, their hearts connected, warm and connected.

Xia Xiyin leaned against his warm chest, closed her eyes: "Why did you and Gojo become Jujutsu Sorcerers?"

She was now a bit worried about Gojo Satoru's state. Geto was a lamp with only half the oil, yet straining to stand straight; its flame cast warmth around it, but the edge of the halo flickered unsteadily.

And Gojo? Was he the same way?

He seemed so strong, so reckless, so omnipotent. But did he also get tired? Did he also have moments like this... when he was about to fall apart?

"I don't know, but Gojo can't stand my theories," Suguru Geto straightened up, his gaze darting towards the door.

The person outside the door said nothing, only listened carefully.

Only a shadow crept through the crack of the door, drawing closer, flowing under the two people's shadows.

Shadows can't speak, but it did exist.

Seeing this, Suguru Geto added, "Gojo finds it tiring to look after the weak. He hates stiff moralizing."

Xia Xiyin shuddered.

She mulled over his words carefully. So even though Gojo Satoru appeared lawless, he actually wore out too. Maybe it wasn't that he didn't understand responsibility, but that he loathed being bound by it…

Anyway, Gojo Satoru was also a problem child.

After realizing the facts that came one after another, she couldn't help but sigh—the road ahead was long and tough.

Lifting her head slightly, looking past Suguru Geto's shoulder, she glanced at the clock in the living room.

"It's half past eleven, Jie! It's Monday, I didn't request time off—my perfect attendance bonus! And what about lunch?" Xia Xiyin's tone was urgent, her face full of panic and fear.

Eating and the attendance bonus were top priorities for her!

She shoved Geto away, threw off the covers, and her slender figure was about to spring up and dash to the wardrobe—

But she stopped abruptly, when she realized she was wearing pajamas.

Her mind went blank instantly; she covered her chest with both hands trying to hide, and pulled the blanket over herself.

"...Last night," her voice was dry, her eyes wandering, barely daring to look at the person by the bed, "who... changed my clothes?"

Even though she knew the answer was one of two possibilities, she still asked sheepishly.

Clutching at a sliver of hope, she wished for a vague answer.

"It was me."

He didn't even try to dodge it; he said it matter-of-factly, without batting an eye.

Xia Xiyin's pupils dilated in shock. She mumbled, "Then...?"

Geto caught on immediately.

Before she could finish stammering, he jumped in: "Even with his eyes closed, Gojo can see. So I changed your clothes with my eyes closed."

Hearing this, Xia Xiyin let out a sigh of relief, staring hard at the man with a sly smirk.

For some reason, a sliver of doubt arose in her—couldn't he still get handsy with his eyes closed?

Just like a moment ago, but she had no room to complain since she was the one who'd lunged into his arms…

Let's skip things that can't be explained.

She extended her hands from under the blanket, curling four fingers in a beckoning motion, asking Geto for something. She pursed her lips, her ears burning, her eyes dodging, not daring to meet his gaze.

Suguru Geto felt helpless seeing her like this; his phone was in his pocket, but he didn't want to give it.

He teased, "What do you want, Xiyin?"

Xia Xiyin gritted her teeth, cursing him in her head—you sneaky fox. There were only her phone and a knife in her clothes. If she wasn't asking for the phone, was she supposed to ask for the knife to stab him?

Her voice was as faint as a mosquito's, "...It's the phone."

Suguru Geto remained calm, cupping one hand to his ear, leaning in.

Until his breath brushed her ear—if he turned his head, her lips would press right against his earlobe.

Just as she flinched and moved to shove him away—he was quicker.

Instead, he pulled back on his own and slid the phone into her pajama pocket, weighing it down.

In the blink of an eye, Suguru Geto stood at the door with his back to her, hand on the handle, and said, "Xiyin, no need to order takeout. Change your clothes and come downstairs; Gojo cooked lunch."

Gojo cooked lunch?

He looked like some rich kid who'd never touched a stove—could that food even be edible?

Wary of Gojo's cooking skills, she instinctively called after Geto: "Wait?"

"Shion-chan, a girl changing clothes shouldn't have others present; that's very impolite."

His tone was light, but what he'd just done was a clear boundary cross.

There was a sly, "thief crying thief" vibe, deflecting blame—and maybe even indulgence?

The door closed silently before her eyes.

Snapping out of it, she quickly changed, stood by the balcony and pushed open the window to air out the room.

A gentle breeze carried the fresh scent of grass and trees, bringing a chill, and it dissipated the heavy, awkward vibe, letting the room breathe again. She leaned on the windowsill, took a deep breath, trying to sort out her tangled thoughts.

At that very moment, she doubled over with a sharp stomach cramp and felt like throwing up.

It wasn't period cramps, nor food poisoning. It was a sharp pain that twisted her insides, alongside a foul stench, a wave of nausea shot from her stomach to her throat!

She clamped a hand over her mouth, stumbled, and ran to the trash can by the door. She grabbed the edge, bent over, and kept vomiting.

She glanced at the cold porridge on the nightstand—she hadn't eaten since yesterday—so she only brought up stomach acid and water.

At the same time, someone else's memories kept surging up, flooding her mind.

Images burst through like a broken dam, carrying overwhelming reality and raw emotion, instantly drowning her consciousness.

Someone was constantly swallowing orbs.

Her senses synced with theirs. Every time he swallowed an orb, a wave of nausea hit her stomach—the stench of rancid cream, the reek of cadaverine and putrescine from decayed animals, the smell of shit from a country outhouse…

It filled his mouth—shoving it in, pressing it to the roof of his mouth with his tongue, crushing it, and then—swallowing.

Every mouthful had to be chewed, then swallowed.

Because if he didn't swallow, he couldn't gain power; if he didn't swallow, he couldn't "protect" the people who needed it; if he didn't swallow, he was unworthy of being a Jujutsu Sorcerer, unworthy of those azure eyes that always looked at him with such trust.

She tasted that flavor in Suguru Geto's memory.

That taste, that feeling—rising from the stomach, yet it had to be suppressed, the nausea that must never be vomited up, over and over, day after day, year after year.

Xia Xiyin's fingers, pressed against the floor, curled into fists.

No wonder he always said "it's okay," "I'm not picky," and why he rated the fatty beef in hotpot the same as boiled cabbage.

When swallowing any food, did it unconsciously remind him of that disgusting sensation?

She couldn't say a word, only bent over, lying on the bed, dry heaving as she lay resting.

Tasting the suffering of that boy, she had no choice but to accept it—this was the price of her ability.

Out of sight, Gojo Satoru had returned to his usual self.

In the empty living room, he sat with his legs crossed, slouched into the soft sofa cushions, one hand casually resting on the armrest.

Hearing footsteps from the stairs, he waved at Suguru Geto on the second floor: "Hey, Geto, where's Xi Yin?"

Throughout this, his gaze never left Geto's face, even after he sat down beside him, staring straight at the red mark.

Gojo Satoru teased: "Wow, you got slapped by Xi Yin. Tell me, what does it feel like?"

Suguru Geto didn't answer immediately. He turned his head, meeting that gloating gaze.

And beneath it, an emotion Geto himself probably didn't even realize—concern and... probing.

Suguru Geto changed the subject, took a deep breath, and reminded him: "Gojo, what you're cooking is burnt."

Gojo Satoru's expression froze for a moment. He inhaled deeply, the burnt smell filling his nose.

Realizing what had happened, the sofa was empty; only a white afterimage darted toward the kitchen.

"...My miso soup!"

After casually sending his best friend off, Suguru Geto sat alone on the sofa, lifting his hand to rub the still-warm red mark on his cheek.

"...What does it feel like?" He repeated softly, speaking to the Suguru Geto who had long been only a jujutsu sorcerer, and also to the Suguru Geto who had never been touched before.

A question to his heart—just a moment of shock.

Yet what he didn't know was that even a single drop of water, for someone who had walked too long in the desert, was salvation.

At this moment, the butterfly's wings had already fluttered.

And in that instant, both the person in the living room and the one in the kitchen felt the fluctuation of cursed energy being drawn. Together, they rushed up to the attic, pushing open the door to Xia Xiyin's room.

They witnessed a scene they would never forget.

Xia Xiyin was wrapped in a curse, stuck to the ceiling, holding two balls in her hands.

Sensing the two at the door, she held up the Cursed Spirit Balls and greeted them.

"By the way, what are these two balls?"

Author's note:

None