Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Xia Xiyin was glued to the ceiling.

To be precise, she was dangled, wrapped in a semi-transparent pale purple cursed spirit in the corner of the room's ceiling.

The cursed spirit didn't have a proper face—only countless soft, translucent tentacles extending from its main body, some firmly adhering to the ceiling surface while others tightly coiled around Xiyin's waist, arms, and one leg.

It looked like a purple slime with tentacles.

Her hair was somewhat disheveled, a few strands sticking to her forehead. Her dark gray cardigan had ridden up from struggling, baring one shoulder.

Her left hand was bound by tentacles, but her right hand hung freely at her side.

That position made her want to hurl.

"Cursed Spirit Manipulation?" Gojo Satoru paused for a sec, glancing at Geto beside him.

For miles around, there were no other jujutsu sorcerers or cursed spirits besides them, let alone the rarely seen Cursed Spirit Manipulation technique. Did Xia Xiyin copy Geto's technique?

Suguru Geto stared at the two cursed spirit balls and said bluntly, "Shion-chan, hand me those cursed spirit balls."

As he spoke, the slime-like cursed spirit vanished, and Xiyin fell like a ripe apple, thudding hard.

Gojo Satoru let out a muffled grunt as she plunged into the arms of the man who stumbled a step forward. He even heard her gasp on impact.

Before she could apologize, her stomach lurched faster than her brain. A wave of bitter, acidic bile rose from the pit of her stomach, climbing all the way to her throat.

Xiyin buried her whole face into his broad chest, grabbing his neck with her arms, unable to utter a complete word.

Dry heaves—once, twice, nonstop spasms.

Seeing this, Gojo didn't dare move—not to put her down, nor to hold her tighter, afraid she might actually throw up.

Her skin was cold. Her forehead pressed against his chilled collarbone, sweat beading on her skin.

Suguru Geto watched Xiyin, his chest thumping, his breathing ragged. He said nothing more.

Stepping forward, one hand gently patted her back, stroking from her shoulder blades down to her waist, back and forth, soothing her. The other hand reached for the cursed spirit balls in her arms.

"Gojo, it's Rainbow Dragon and the one I used to coax her when we first met." He said this without slowing his soothing strokes, his scorching palm warming through the fabric, smoothing out the knot in Xiyin's stomach, bit by bit.

Once she'd steadied a bit, Xiyin tugged at Gojo's collar with her fingers, lifting her head from his chest to signal him to lay her down.

Gojo slid an arm around her waist, using his bicep as a pillow, and laid her flat on the bed. Then he propped a pillow behind her. When he was done, he muttered, "...You're always bossing me around."

Though his mouth said that, his hand reached for the strands of hair plastered to her forehead. His fingers coiled around them, tucking them behind her ear.

His palm slid down her neck, lifting the hair from her collar so her neck could breathe.

Xiyin coughed twice. After catching her breath, she met his mock-resentful eyes and said, "Sorry, Gojo. That was a lot."

Gojo said nothing, just turned his face away, stared at the old locust tree outside, not moving a muscle. But the tips of his ears, in the pale autumn light, went visibly red.

She held up a finger.

Her gaze swept across the two sorcerers, paused briefly, and then she began to explain: "Anyway, to put it simply. First, I think I can use your cursed energy—and Geto's Cursed Spirit Manipulation?"

Memories surfaced in her mind—when she wanted to draw power, the energy surged up, ready to be used wherever she wanted.

Second, when her stomach cramped and she wanted to rest and breathe fresh air, she ended up on the ceiling in a blink.

That made her want to yell at that cursed spirit: 'What, fresh air on the ceiling?'"

"Second, I was feeling a little uncomfortable and wanted to breathe some fresh air. That cursed spirit instantly appeared and understood my intention, then trapped me on the ceiling. And according to Geto, the other two—like Rainbow Dragon—if I could ride it, would that grant my wish too?"

As she spoke, Xiyin glanced up at the spirit still clinging to the ceiling.

Then her gaze dropped to Geto. In those eyes, she saw her own reflection—and a glint of sharpness.

Seeing this, Xiyin continued explaining, her voice tinged with guilt: "Also, I'm pretty sure I know why you two ended up here—I'm the one who caused it..."

With a sharp intake of breath, two heated gazes locked onto her.

One came from beside the bed.

Gojo Satoru, who'd been staring out at the locust tree, whipped his head around. His azure eyes blazed in the afternoon light—no anger, no blame—just stunned curiosity.

The other came from the head of the bed.

Geto had just set the two cursed spirit balls on the nightstand. At her words, his fingers paused, barely noticeable. He turned his head slowly, his violet eyes calm on the surface—but beneath that calm, something was churning, shifting, rearranging.

Two gazes—one hot, one cool—both carried an undeniable weight.

Caught between those two gazes, Xiyin instinctively screwed her eyes shut and continued speaking:

"Well, my first ability is related to my name—tidal power. The ebb and flow of tides, the passage of time. I guess my ability went haywire and pulled you both here."

That was true enough, but this power required her active use. Having it happen on its own—dragging someone home—was a first.

In her memory, Moon Time Village occasionally had people falling from the sky, but it was always one person—never two!

She planned to keep these details to herself, since they wouldn't stay long.

"Don't worry. You'll be able to go back in about a month. The time difference from when you arrived will be at most a day—it won't interfere with your school. That is, unless something goes wrong..."

Unless something goes wrong, but something already had. Xiyin knew that better than anyone.

Both the tidal ability and the other ability had gone awry.

She tugged on Geto's shirt corner and said sheepishly, "Geto, please go to the wardrobe and get my gun."

Geto looked down at her. Those violet eyes held no question, no hesitation.

He simply met her gaze calmly for a moment, then rose, turned, and walked toward the wardrobe.

His movements were crisp and decisive, without a single follow-up question.

While Geto turned to fetch the gun, Xiyin looked at Gojo and lowered her voice: "Gojo, sit next to me and use your Limitless. Let's finish what we started earlier—now is the perfect moment."

Meeting those azure eyes, Xiyin felt a shiver run through her. Gojo seemed to sense something.

Those eyes were like the sea before a storm—deceptively calm on the surface, but turbulent underneath.

But she couldn't care anymore. Even if she were swallowed by the ocean and drowned, she would do it without regret.

Gojo stared straight at her, not asking for the reason, simply silently obeying her orders.

An invisible barrier silently enveloped her entirely.

At the same time, Suguru Geto had already returned.

In his hand, he held the pistol that Xia Xiyin knew all too well—a specialty from Yokohama, a relic left to her by Osamu Dazai, the gun still bearing the warmth of his fingertips and his parting words.

Suguru Geto offered the pistol to Xia Xiyin, the muzzle facing himself.

She let out a quiet sigh. Geto really was something—both of them seemed to have anticipated what she was about to do.

Xia Xiyin racked the slide, turned the pistol around, and pressed the black, already-loaded muzzle against her own temple.

The room fell into dead silence.

Then, two blazing gazes locked onto her thumb on the slide, as if their throats were constricted, unable to utter a single word.

Xia Xiyin’s gaze went completely blank, her eyes hazy and unfocused, and the corners of her lips curled into a faint, barely-there smile.

It wasn't sadness, nor self-mockery—just a calm detachment from having seen through everything.

She spoke, her voice soft yet terrifyingly clear: “Now, time to test the second ability. It comes from another person, named—Human Disqualification.”

As she spoke, her hand reached out faintly toward Gojo Satoru. This time, their distance grew closer, as if Limitless was being neutralized.

The two forces engaged in an invisible struggle, biting and tearing at each other, canceling one another out.

The distance between them shrank further, but Limitless still held the upper hand.

“Huh? Not enough power. So you really can’t be lazy.”

Xia Xiyin’s tone shifted into someone else’s—lighter, more desperate, detached from the world, filled with a disdain for life.

She tilted her head, her tone playful and coaxing as she asked, “Satoru~”

Then, blinking, she shifted her gaze to Suguru Geto, her voice casual, “Geto~ I’d like to ask—”

As she spoke, her fingers were steady, her breathing even, her body swaying like a willow branch.

“If I pull the trigger just like this, will I die?”

Before either of them could answer, her hand moved swiftly, pressing the muzzle against her jaw, angled upward at forty-five degrees—a perfect shot to pierce the brainstem.

Her eyes sparkled with joy and relief, like a child waiting for the rain to stop—or perhaps one who had waited too long, endured countless storms, and no longer cared whether they were wet or dry.

“The answer is—”

“No, it won't~ Only by shooting through the jaw and destroying the brain is it a guaranteed death. A shot to the temple still has a chance of survival~”

Her voice rose in a sing-song tone, tinged with despair, as if it were all a joke.

And as Xia Xiyin explained, the balance between the two forces in the air quietly shifted.

Their distance shrank once more. The power called “Human Disqualification” no longer retreated, no longer hesitated.

At that moment, the two forces were evenly matched.

Perhaps due to their abilities counteracting each other—or maybe because of Gojo Satoru’s retreat.

Xia Xiyin passed through Limitless, her fingers interlocking with his, their fingers spreading wide to fit perfectly, slotting together seamlessly.

She flashed a sly smile: “Well, looks like I win! Hahaha.”

This soft laugh broke the stagnant atmosphere. Xia Xiyin lowered the gun and tried to pull her hand back, but found it firmly locked in place, unable to move.

Gojo Satoru was silent for a long moment. Dappled shadows from the tree played across his face, obscuring the expression in his upper half, leaving his emotions unclear.

But the tight line of his lips betrayed his mood.

His broad palm gripped tighter and tighter, veins bulging on the back of his hand, squeezing her until she felt a slight ache.

“Tch.”

“Satoru!” Suguru Geto gritted out, “Keep squeezing, and her wrist will break.”

Equally irritated, Suguru Geto still held onto his reason. He pressed down on their clasped hands, prying apart the clenched fingers one by one. With each finger he loosened, Gojo Satoru’s breath grew heavier.

“What the hell...”

A low mutter forced its way through his clenched teeth.

“Satoru!” Suguru Geto’s voice shot up.

Gojo Satoru’s anger had been ignited. He cupped Xia Xiyin’s chin, his grip not rough—almost gentle, in strange contrast to the fury that was almost tangible around him.

Forced to meet his gaze, Xia Xiyin saw only rage in those blue Six Eyes, a fire that poured into her own eyes.

The flames seared through her, and her brain went blank. Her body instinctively leaned back.

Her eyes darted away, but his hand held her chin firmly. His demeanor was firm, allowing no dodging, no avoidance, no shifting her gaze elsewhere.

The atmosphere grew thick and heavy. Both their faces were livid.

Suddenly, as if the performance had provoked them both, Xia Xiyin deflated instantly.

She realized with stark clarity: she had tugged at a tiger’s whiskers and even hopped around twice.

So, in a muffled, subdued voice, she explained: “Satoru, this was necessary. To use Human Disqualification, I have to connect with the owner’s consciousness, synchronize, feel what they feel...”

To douse his anger, she continued: “The total amount of ability is fixed. Since I can use Cursed Spirit Manipulation, that means Human Disqualification’s power is suppressed.”

The fiery mark faded. The pressure on her chin lessened, shifting from “restraint” to “cradling”—his thumb still resting against her jawbone, but no longer pressing.

Xia Xiyin seized the chance to break free from Gojo Satoru’s grip. She snatched up the pistol, ejected the magazine, and shoved it in front of his face.

It was empty. No bullets inside.

“Besides, that was just theory from a suicide manual. I cherish my life—I’d never pull the trigger!”

Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Suguru Geto. The hand clutching his sleeve slowly relaxed, and the veins on his forehead gradually subsided.

Stealing a look at Gojo Satoru, she pressed her advantage: “And I just wanted to test the power—maybe it could cancel out my own ability and send you both back home?”

The ability Human Disqualification nullifies other abilities. If it could cancel out Limitless, maybe it could also cancel out the temporal disturbance and send them back.

If it really worked, it would be a one-time solution. She could return to her peaceful, ordinary life, while Suguru Geto and Gojo Satoru would continue their high school days.

Skipping class, playing ball, exorcising curses, carrying out missions, buying daifuku... That was their life.

If they stayed here any longer, an unknown path lay ahead, and she had no idea how long it would wind or how far.

The two of them, whether searching for words or calming their emotions, neither spoke first.

Xia Xiyin understood them—after all, when using her ability, she had practically turned into that black sludge being, Dazai-san. It was only natural they were startled.

Gojo Satoru and Suguru Geto understood what she meant.

But the smile on Xia Xiyin’s face was far too thick and sticky, like black mud submerged in water.

Her lips curled upward, yet not a glimmer of light reflected in her eyes. Those eyes, when they looked at you, made you shiver all over.

A smile that didn’t reach the eyes?

No. Gojo Satoru rejected that judgment.

To him, it wasn’t even a mask—it was a smile that meant nothing. Not an abyss, not darkness, just a container repeatedly emptied, unable to hold anything at all.

A person like that wouldn’t even become a cursed spirit after death.

He hated that smile. That smile didn't belong on Xia Xiyin's face.

“Xi Yin.” Gojo Satoru’s voice was low, devoid of any emotion.

He spoke each word deliberately, laid down the rule: “No next time.”

He looked down at Xia Xiyin, eyes half-lidded, before parting his lips: “Come down and eat.”

With that, a gust of wind rushed past her ears, and not even a trace of his back remained.

Suguru Geto sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, staring directly at Xia Xiyin, who was frozen in place on the mattress.

He knew why Gojo was so angry—why his fury erupted so directly.

Satoru was a gentle, responsible person.

Beneath those fiery words lay tangled feelings, concerns seeping out inadvertently. As Satoru’s best friend, he understood this best.

It was fear.

With that thought, he pulled Xia Xiyin's head to his chest, gently stroking her back, resting his chin on her head, his tone soft: “Shion-chan, don't worry about us. Next time, don’t do this. Satoru and I will be sad.”

In this broad, gentle embrace, Xia Xiyin’s heart felt both achy and full. She murmured sheepishly, “I’m sorry. There won’t be a next time.”

Through skin, through ribs, she inadvertently recalled the taste of the Cursed Spirit Ball.

From past experience, Xia Xiyin buried her face deeper into his clothes, her voice muffled, thick with a nasal quality.

“Geto, Cursed Spirit Manipulation… it hurts so badly…”

The hand around her waist paused, then tightened, locking her in an embrace so tight she couldn’t move.

“I hate the stench of animal organs. My stomach keeps churning.” As she spoke, she instinctively curled further into his arms, her stomach cramping and surging again.

The taste of thousands of Cursed Spirit Balls all came rushing back.

Suguru Geto’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his palm continuously soothing her lingering tremors.

He didn't know what to say. 'Sorry'? 'You shouldn't have to endure this'?

There was no true empathy in the world—even he had never swallowed thousands of Cursed Spirit Balls at once.

All he could do was hold tight to the only person in the world like him.

Time passed, second by second. Finally, Xia Xiyin broke the tension, asking awkwardly, “Geto, what did Satoru make for lunch?”

Despite her stomach churning, she still felt hungry. And she was genuinely curious what Gojo Satoru’s cooking tasted like.

Suguru Geto thought for a moment. “Miso soup, and probably something else?”

Miso soup… Ever since she returned to Japan, there had rarely been authentic miso soup around. She had almost forgotten its taste.

“Geto,” she said seriously, “I’ll go buy clothes for you two this afternoon. Aside from Kikufuku and sweets, what else does Satoru need? I’ll apologize properly.”

Suguru Geto replied casually, “Anything works.”

(After all, even if Shion-chan gave Satoru a bitter gourd, he would accept your apology.)

But that sentence caught in his throat and he swallowed it back down.

Hearing Suguru Geto’s reassurance, Xia Xiyin still looked dejected, clenching her jaw.

What if he doesn’t like it?

What if he’s still angry?

What if the gift she buys doesn’t sit well with him and hits a nerve he hasn't revealed?

After hesitating for a long time, Xia Xiyin looked up with the determination of someone who had burned her bridges. “Geto, give me Satoru’s phone number. If worst comes to worst, I’ll apologize on the spot and ask him what he wants.”

And so, she got Gojo Satoru’s phone number.

The afternoon shopping street was bustling, the entire block buzzing with activity. Xia Xiyin went into a cake shop and pre-ordered a whole cream cake.

She sat by the window seat, sunlight slanting through the glass dome, spilling onto her shoulders, warm and gentle.

Holding her phone, she stared at the string of numbers.

A fierce inner battle raged within. The cake was being prepared, and on her way home, she would also buy fireworks and Kikufuku.

But there was still one problem: she didn’t know Suguru Geto and Gojo Satoru’s clothing sizes!

Her finger hovered over the screen, trembling constantly.

“Excuse me, here’s your taro bubble milk tea.”

The waiter's reminder pierced her concentration, snapping Xia Xiyin back to reality. At the same time, her fingertip touched the screen.

She pressed the green button—the call connected.

Before Xia Xiyin could hang up, the other side was answered instantly. Silence hung between them, both silent.

Guilt-ridden, Xia Xiyin spoke first, her voice low: “I’m sorry, Satoru! I won’t do that again. I got you cake and Kikufuku. Also, the miso soup at lunch was really great! I drank three full bowls.”

Her voice grew louder, her words faster: “Forgive me, Satoru! I’ll buy you anything you want!”

After a long pause, a burst of playful laughter came through the phone.

“Wow~ You got me cake and Kikufuku? I'm so blessed~”

As usual, his trailing voice was drawn out—normally Gojo Satoru spoke with a rising, flippant tone, but now the tail end wasn't as airy. Still lazy and nonchalant—how to say it? A bit more mature.

Xia Xiyin furrowed her brows, comparing the differences, but she didn't know what was wrong.

"I accept your apology, thank you~"

As soon as the words fell, a flash of surprise crossed Xia Xiyin's mind, but she quickly suppressed it. "Satoru, what are your and Jie's clothing sizes? I'm going to buy clothes for you both."

For a moment, there was complete silence on the other end of the line.

Xia Xiyin took his silence as embarrassment and said with a mix of shame and indignation, "I'm only responsible for buying everyday clothes and pajamas; the underwear will be handled by the sales assistant!"

The voice on the other end gave two numbers and added, "For Jie, it should be this size, roughly the same."

After getting the answers she wanted, Xia Xiyin prepared to hang up. "See you at home, Satoru. My phone is about to die."

At that moment, a deep, throaty laugh came through the phone, teasing: "Huh, 'see you at home'? To be precise, it's 'see you later'~"

After the call ended, Xia Xiyin was stunned. Is there any difference between "see you at home" and "see you later"?

She stared at the string of numbers, pondering for a long time.

"Number 117, please come to the front desk to pick up your cake."

Xia Xiyin snapped back to reality and walked to the counter. The elusive mist, a corner she had just glimpsed, was buried again, dissolving like foam and fading from her mind.

Japan, Jujutsu High School faculty dormitory.

Gojo Satoru's fingertips traced the string of phone numbers as he maintained a reclining position, his black blindfold covering most of his face.

Only the corners of his lips were slightly pursed, forming a faint, unreadable straight line.

He opened his phone and played back the recording he just made.

He set the phone down beside the pillow, and the girl's voice lingered in his ear: Satoru, Satoru, Satoru, Satoru.

High, low, apologetic—different tones, but all calling his name.

"Satoru~"

A single syllable. He held this word in his mouth like a piece of candy, unwilling to swallow or gulp it down, wanting only to keep it in his mouth forever.

Jie and Satoru are both in her world.

But he himself is not.

Gojo Satoru's fingertip hooked the edge of his blindfold, pushing it down a little and pulling it down.

The moment his Six Eyes were exposed, his eyes held a certain gravity—something he didn't believe in at eighteen, had forgotten by twenty-seven, and thought he would never have again at twenty-eight—

A flutter in his heart.

Author's Note:

285's affection was artificially inflated by 185.

But high affection doesn't mean they'll end up together. At least, Jie and the two Cursed Users need to be taken care of first; otherwise, it'll be a Bad Ending.