▬▬ an instant: configuration of probability

MORNING HAD COME, you started at Nanami beside you. You were lying on your stomach, your head was resting on your folded arms on your pillows. While his body was pressed against you, his one arm was wrapped on your back and his head nestled on your arm, breathing slow, soft, and even.

You then realized, waking up wasn't so bad . . . Especially if he was the first person you would see.

You only watched him serenely as you recollected how you two fucked for hours last night. Almost six o'clock in the morning now, you traced the soft lines of his face relaxed from ecstasy. And now, he'd been asleep for several hours, and you hoped to give Nanami more time to sleep; messing up his nightly routine . . . particularly in a midweek.

In that moment, everything was seemed confusing, yet continually commiting lucid mistakes.

Sometimes inside you, you cast an impartial eye over your choices, those delectable things that you would indulge into that were apparently illogical.

Everything should be stirring up in cold ashes, as vague as the moment just before dawn. The entire time you spent with Nanami alone was insanely domestic that it sometimes made your head spin. You had deceived, exploited, and manipulated countless people—from kings and queen, to the important leaders of a country, or to some poor man living miserably in the streets—all for your own personal entertainment. You didn't know if the world was cruel or just downright sad, not that you cared, because you were bored and indifferent in the face of other people's suffering. It didn't matter if they grieved or bleed, you would attend their suffering with a shrug of the shoulders—so deep was your apathy for them.

Despite the boredom, those absurdities saved you. On that moment, after centuries after centuries, you felt like in a vacuum of nostalgia.

You really didn't know if you cherished him already, like you did for someone before—another sort of nostalgia, a physical absence, a distant presence.

For you, Nanami was a realm of curiosities. Let your worldly desires and conflicts to color your indecision to cover up your uncertainties, and let your whole self be lost and forgotten in him, and have your delusions burn like stars in your body full of denial.

Not only that he was damn sexy, but he was just . . .gorgeous. You only watched him continue to stroke his hair and face until you felt yourself getting hot.

Damn . . .

You didn't want to touch him anymore as you felt the tips of your fingers getting burnt, but it came unexpected when Nanami caught your hand.

You jumped a little, almost a little guilty for waking him up.

"Awake earlier than me, I see," he spoke groggily as he gave the lower part of your palm a kiss.

"Mnh," you only responded meekly.

Slowly, opening his eyes, he then extended his hand to rake his fingers through your hair. His touch tickled you, and you purred in a steady rhythm.

Nanami snugged his little highness in close and stared at you as you shivered in a temptingly sweet against his fingertips.

"Thinking of me?" Then he slipped his hand under the blanket and slowly traced the shape of your spine.

Unconsciously, you closed your eyes as you hummed, savoring the sensation of his fingers now stroking along the slope of your ribs, down to the curve of your hip.

"You're bad for a morning environment, Your Highness," he said lowly as his hand came to a stop on your sacrum.

You couldn't hide your smile, fluttering your eyelids open as you looked at him, eyes that were more heraldic than usual in a morning light. "Yes," you answered softly, "I am . . . For you."

You stirred a bit, then snuggled in closer to him to initiate him to do you more.

"Do you want me to touch you?" he asked, whispering.

You needed not to be shy, without reservation, you lifted your one leg and wrapped it over his waist.

Nanami smoothed his palm over the swell of your ass and languidly teased your slit with his middle finger. He teased your soft lips below and parted them open. He smirked. Your arousal was back and you were in need of attention.

"Already this wet," he hummed against his throat. "Is last night not enough for you?"

You clenched, moaning, when he flickered your clit and those frilled pink skin around your entrance.

"Yes . . ? No?" You were feeling yourself becoming hotter as you tried to provoke him.

He chuckled lowly, amused. It didn't have to be vocal about it, because you two wouldn't get enough of each other. Bending his head, he took a nipple into his mouth, sucked it gently, fluttered his tongue around the hardening tip. You were sighing, squirming lightly, as you relaxed from Nanami's morning services. You were wet enough and he easily inserted two of his fingers in you. Knowing that Nanami was eager to fuck you, you instinctively fished out his cock. You loved it when he knew the spots he needed to hit, and all the while, you pumped his swelling and leaking shaft and sped it up. And within only a minute, you were already spilling juices around his fingers.

Once you were ready for him, he told you, "I want you to stay flat on your stomach, Your Highness."

You did what you were told and settled comfortably on the bed. Nanami straddled you, spreading your legs to accommodate him, and bent down to suck your neck. You felt his dick humping your cunt as if to prepare himself and positioned at your entrance. Holding you still, he pushed himself in.

You enjoyed being topped by him, now Nanami's impressive cock turned you into an oversized cocksleeve.

Nanami groaned lustfully when his cock fully penetrated you in one go. The sensation of your tight fuckhole gripping him . . . God, he could stay like that forever, without even moving, just being inside of you, feeling you so horny and stretched out for him.

You were like an animal in heat, begging him to move inside you.

"Nanami . . ." you whimpered as you shake your hips, "please . . .♡"

Nanami breathed out some humming laughs, slightly taunting on how you were starving for him. You looked at him with your lust-driven sleepy eyes. He only loomed closer to your head, catching up to your face before licking the outer shell and lobe of your ear before biting it down.

"Let's stay like this for a while–" he twirled his cock around your twitching walls– "I'd like to give this pretty hole some slow attention."

Nanami's muffled voice caressed your ear and tickled your neck. He stirred your insides like he promised, grinding in you until you memorized his shape and those bulging veins running every which way along the entire length.

Fuck . . . ♡

All you could do was sigh, satisfied, being nastily spoiled by his magnificent cock.

That morning, as soon two woke up, fucked for a solid forty-five minutes, not even stopping even after you came multiple times. He was gripping your waist hard and you knew his fingers would leave marks on your skin. He would also trace your spine with his palm, and followed it with a harsh slaps on your buttcheeks. It was fine; nevertheless, you liked how much he could manhandle until you were sobbing tears into the pillow.

His snaps of his hip against you went harsher, now bracing his hands on your shoulders, fucking his aching cock into you like a madman.

He couldn't resist pounding you from behind, stabbing into your narrow opening over and over again, even though he had already filled his Thine Highness with more than one load since last night.

He fucked you harder, watching you crested and orgasming as you continued to beg him not to stop. Your moans became dirtier, your cunt pulsating with another nearing orgasm. Those short shallow thrusts then shifting to those really deep ones with his full length were the best stimulation. Within a minute, you let out an extremely long and erotic moan, twisting and convulsing in a slippery mess.

Nanami sank up to the hilt and shot his another load inside of you and thick ropes of cums designing your pussy. You begged him to stay on that position as he plowed his essence, and you came again like a champ after.

As you two both came down, Nanami peppered you with butterfly kisses from your nape to your spine and shoulder blades.

"Do you have missions today?" he asked.

"Mnhn," you hummed to imply that you didn't have for today, "it's the Kyoto Goodwill Event, and as one of the teachers, I need to supervise the students."

Nanami then figured, the remaining sorcerers would be given extra sets of missions.

Guess he had no choice.

"What time you will go?"

"At nine—like the usual," you answered. The Jujutsu society had a different standard comparing to the mundane world, and the sorcerers' normal day would start at ten.

"I see," Nanami hummed. The time was almost seven, if they both managed to fix everything—even themselves—within an hour, then could go according to schedule. "How about a shower?" He kissed your shoulder as he proposed.

You let out husky chuckles, "Please."

And seemingly, you enjoyed what was in last night, and couldn't keep track of how many load you received from Nanami, thus once he pulled his half-hard cock out, his morning essence dripped down from your tight hole.

Nanami quickly got up to get a warm washcloth, and when he came back, you were looking at him thoughtfully. You two neither spoke and he was just wiping you.

As he finished cleaning you, tossing the used towel onto a nearby chair, he prompted with a short pause, "Let me, er, take care of things here."

You eyes widened, remembering the mess you created on your bedsheets and various play things.

"No, I—" you jolted up as to try to reach out for him, only blushing when you felt a lining pain on your core.

Nanami breathed an amused and consoling laugh, "You okay?"

"Mmn." You nodded, and he squeezed your knee for extra comfort. "I can help you." With that being said, you sat up straight. Your "down there" might be sore, but moving was still manageable.

He tilted a small grin, trying to read your expression. He trusted you and your words and expecting that you wouldn't deny any secret pain, but he still had to be sure. He was also into this. If he would take you to bed, he had to make sure that you were kept safe and being taken care in every way possible.

"Honest thing? Are you really fine?"

You remembered the conditions you promised him.

A soft smile.

"Yeah, promise," you affirmed.

"All right." He nodded. "Here," he spoke as he handed you his pullover shirt.

You muttered thanks. While you wore it, Nanami put his pajama pants on.

"Let me take care the sheets, Your Highness."

The thought of the sheets would still make you blush.

Messy bedsheets.

Pillows tossed everywhere.

Stains from various body fluids.

"Right," you replied rather awkwardly. "I should prepare a small breakfast then. Is there anything you want?"

"It's time already. I'll just grab something along the way." He smoothed his hand over your hair and tucked a few strands of it behind your ear. "You should take a bath, I'll get the job done in here first."

You blinked at him slowly, lashes going down and then up. "Are you sure?" It was you who questioned him that time.

"Yes," he assured, "it'll be fast."

"Okay."

You were quiet when you got up, and Nanami was also quietly looking at you, then giving him a thrift grin as you disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door firmly. After a few minutes, the shower started running, it was when the blond sorcerer began collecting the stuff that were used last night and brought them to the lavatory to clean them. He pulled the sheets next and put them in the laundry bin, then grabbing new sheets from linen closet. Fixing the bedsheets took him a few minutes. If he wasn't getting chased by time, he would have neatened you bed up the last crinkle.

Once he was done, he went to the bathroom, and he stayed there for a minute, contemplating if he would enter inside or not. His mind was playing the scenarios of what would happen. He wanted your heat under the shower against his skin, wanting to admire your glistening skin threaded with water droplets, and just kiss you senselessly.

He breathed deeply. He must have lost his mind . . .

After candidly discussing all the things left unsaid, the very terms you two had agreed upon, and then fucking each other all throughout past midnight. Nanami also distantly recognized that you might need some time alone. Last night was intense, and you took him so well, him, and all. In return, he wanted to make you feel good and did you better. He remembered how your body craved for him and how instinctively tightened. Gods, you were clenching him down so hard as if begging him to go deeper inside you.

You had tempted him, like the cunning and alluring serpent from the Garden of Eden. You did manage to convince him to stay the night, and devoured you like the forbidden fruit of knowledge. Ah, yes . . . You were the sin he was willing to take—over and over again.

Sighing once again, he was compelled to clear up his thoughts and rationality and weighed every circumstance. You certainly needed to shower alone to get her head be focused for today's work. He also knew that you could easily heal yourself, but it left a bitter residue on his conscience; it was an exploitive of excuse to bed you whenever he wanted.

After pausing on that point a considerable while, Nanami knocked on the door.

"Ryusei," he called.

He couldn't just cower behind a door, thus he reckoned to let himself in. Once inside, you were already peering through the opening of the shower partition. He picked up his pullover shirt and wore it. He walked up to you, your body hiding behind the partition, and a low growl built in his throat when his eyes roved all over the silhouette of your naked body.

"Nanami?" you answered meekly with a growing, shyer grin.

He tilted his head to one side and looked fondly of you. "I know it sounds like me being a douche, but I have to excuse myself now, Thine Highness."

Then there was the small perturb on your lips. "Is everything okay?"

Nanami quickly eased your worry by grabbing your hand and rubbed your fingers with his thumb, and said as-a-matter-of-factly, "Yes, everything is okay. I just need to return to my unit to get ready for work; it's faster that way."

"Oh, I see," you mumbled, coaxing an understanding grin. "I'll see you later?"

"Mm-hm." He agreed right away. "I'll have Ichiji to drive me to Tokyo Tech, want to go together?"

A cheery expression flashed to your eyes, but immediately faded when reality struck you. "As much as I wanted to, but I have to decline, ne?" Through his silent stares, you discerned his why. "It's better to have my own mode of transportation. I'd probably stay at the Tech for a few days, then be sent to missions."

He nodded as he heard you reason plausible. "Got it." Then his grip on your fingers tightened slightly when he hovered his gaze on your neck and shoulders. The marks he put on you were very much visible. "Then, one final check: do you really feel fine?"

They lacked time, and he regretted for not giving you the best aftercare—which you highly deserved—as he only did the bare minimum.

Yet you grinned softly, feeling more appreciative of him. "Yes, I assure you." I've experienced more painful shits than that. You wanted to add, but swallowed it back.

"All right." On that moment, he was finally convinced, as the seven more follow-up questions on his head vanished. "I'll message you as soon as I arrived at work . . . Or you can do that, too. Message me once you're there."

You clipped another dutiful nod, angling you head a bit, and gave him a small smile.

"I will."

Ever since meeting you, he wouldn't imagine that you were capable of a genuine smile. It was quite flirty, but it was more of an indication that you felt more safe and comfortable with him.

His chartreuse eyes flickered up to yours, hues of green pools of kind and intelligent energy, mirroring your smile but in a faint way. He gave your hand a final squeeze before he dropped his arms, immediately feeling the longing for his touch.

"I'll see you again."

With that, he turned around, and in an easy but precise way, he walked out through the door.

You tried not to watch him leave, even though it only took him a second before the door closed.

Then you ruminated, still staring at the door.

Both of the past and the future were finite, both would end somewhere.

Even though it was a riddle to measure how long was the present moment as known as "now".

That very second felt like an infinitely long second.

Regaining a certain degree of sense of time, you carried on doing your morning routine.

_______________________________________________________

Upon the whole, Nanami Kento arrived at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. He stared at his phone for a little while before climbing out of the car. He'd already messaged you, somehow waiting for you to reply. Perhaps you were driving, thus couldn't reply right away.

The thoughts of yesterday had clouded his head, while being all aware that he should be focusing to his mission for today. It was consequently necessary to indulge leisurely at some point. He had done it again with you, and was afraid that he would do it many times again. His time spent with you became an object of his respite—his ultimate consolation for all the harrowing days in doing his jujutsu job.

With you . . . He would enjoy the pleasure of anticipation, or the solace for the present, or might be the sting of disappointment.

Because you, you were a masquerading angel of light.

It didn't not sound good to his ears, but it was seemed a reasonable amount.

You, nothing more than a false appearance, a void of soul, fangs exposed, a venom-stare.

He was supposed to see you the next day, or the next other day . . . Or even in the next days. He would be lying if he wasn't looking forward to seeing you again, and he was dreading about it as he spent a day searching for you—be it in your unit or at work.

It was as if you disappeared.

Without a word.

Without a thought.

A balloon of dismay and despair inflated on his mind, mulling over the fact that you were missing.

Never knew why.

Maybe you were gone. Maybe your trust to the sorcery had flamed out. Or maybe . . . You already found a new viable reason to die. And that was why you were gone.

Nanami didn't know what would fill his cup. Should he feel relief knowing that you were gone? If so, why it does feel like he was stepping to shards of glass.

At first, his eyes were cast on the tatami floor of a meeting room. Only staring at it, without remembering what was lingering on his mind.

". . . Nami! Nanami sa~!"

He looked sideways. Gojo's voice was too grating for his ears. Nanami frowned a little, as to why the white-haired sorcerer tried to pull his attention. A sudden realization came over, soon remembering that was in a meeting with his fellow sorcerers.

"What?" he only sighed.

"Say, say–" Gojo threw an arm around his shoulder– "don't you really know where Ryusei could have gone, Na~na~min~?" It wasn't that Gojo was doubting him, it was more of teasing nuances, perfectly aware of what was going around them two.

"I could have told you, if I do," he gruffly said as he pushed him aside.

Right, they were in a meeting with a higher-up.

For over a week, once the Kyoto Goodwill event got interrupted by a special grade curse, the invasion of Mahito's group happened next. After the patchwork's escape with the cursed objects, your disappearance made it suspicious.

And that was the meeting all about: your alleged betrayal, and of the plans to be executed to exterminate you.

Your disappearance meant your alliance to the enemy—given the timing and all. Even with Satoru Gojo's shield over you, he couldn't seem to ignore a higher-up's command. Still, he was still trying to negotiate with them, or at least bluffing to buy some time; Gojo and Nanami knew that behind your actions were complex and couldn't simply be classified as black or white.

"That woman cannot be trusted!" A frustrated remonstrance of the higher-up who was seated on the center in front.

"Like what I said," Gojo Satoru replied dully, rather petulantly, "do you have evidences to back up your claims?"

That was why he hates those old fools. All mouth, zero brain substance.

"Her long disappearance is enough claim already," argued the old man.

"So what?" Even with Satoru's blindfold, he rolled his eyes. "What if she's in a vacation?"

It was a lame excuse for the majority, but to the strongest sorcerer, it was a provocation out of pettiness.

What do they even care?

Satoru Gojo trusted you a great deal, and he wouldn't bow down to the higher-ups just because they said it so.

"How long would you sleep on your foolishness?" A tart reprimand of the higher-up. "You, all of you who accepted that creature in our prestigious institution!"

The haughtiness and insult brought a particular indignation to Nanami and Gojo-at least to an extent.

"And I dare say, I have kept my eyes open," continued the old man, "we must be watchful, vigilant, and destroy the demons hiding in our basement!"

Everyone knew that he was pertaining about Murphy Ryusei and Itadori Yuji.

Gojo only scoffed, "How kind of you to acknowledge your own kind."

"Let's address the real matter here at hand." The higher-up straightened his posture. "Ever since that wench showed her true colors, a lot of civilians, even in the jujutsu society, have lived in horror and fear by the threat of that fiend. As we are in crisis right now, I reckon you, Gojo Satoru to do your responsibilities and and handle this situation with absolute control! Not to trifle with with some lowly snake!"

"I don't mind instigating fear." Gojo would rarely show his anger. He could still keep it in, but it was only a matter of time before it would bleed through. "Even if it means to put a leash on someone."

Yes, be it with the curses, cursed users, and sorcerers.

"Fear?" sneered the old man. "Then explain why those curse users and special grades brazenly attacked our grounds? Not only it a useless of a sorcerer for doing nothing, it disappeared along with those scums!"

With all the seriousness that was rending Gojo's face, he was still managing to play along.

"That's how you're taking it, huh? It says a lot about how you only cherry pick information." The winter-headed man gave a condescending shrug. "According to Nanami and Ryusei's report from the Novus Skyscraper Incident, it's clear that curses wanted Ryusei to join them. She neither want to, nor have the intentions to. I see no rationale to your prejudice towards her."

"Nonsense! It seriously put me at awe of how can you turn a blind eye to such perverseness! How many times should our esteemed institution be be blown to pieces before you open your eyes! I could not rest till I knew the particular; how you convince me had no weight, only lacking of judgement."

"You're the one to talk." Gojo's voice was crass, having no ounce of percipience of his remarks. "Then? What do you propose? If you really are all-knowing enough."

"That Murphy Ryusei is proven to be a deranged individual, thus I imply it to be apprehended, seal her powers, and be sentenced for a lifetime imprisonment in the lowest level of the underground prison."

With that, Gojo erupted an incredulous laughter. "Are you high, you old fart? Really, all of you higher-ups only do is to sit on your thrones." He recalled your words. "Having no notions what is happening from the inside out of the sorcery society. It seems like you don't know that we do not possess a cursed tool to nullify any cursed technique. And even you'll throw her in any deepest pits of prisons, she'd just breakthrough 'em."

It put Satoru in awe on how much dumb weirdos those higher-ups were. He had seen the same behavioral pattern with the religious followers . . . The ignorant always had a specific behavior, and he could only feel nothing but tired of them.

"You seem to have a high regards to this Murphy Ryusei."

Gojo shifted his gaze at the blue-tinted, silver-haired lady.

It was Mei Mei who spoke.

"That's because she's strong," Gojo mused.

Mei Mei's face elated behind her braided hair.

She's strong.

A comment that the strongest sorcerer wouldn't hand out lightly.

"We can never reply the fate of our people just the mere fact that it is 'strong'," interjected the senior. "We better abolish those tiny embers before spreads it burns everything. Don't you all agree with me?"

A wave of silence mobilized on that room, and sometime after, one of the sorcerers spoke.

"I don't mind doing the job, as long as we've settled the final decision here," Kusakabe Atsuya voiced out.

Not only him who bore the same sentiment, but everyone's in the very space.

Tied to the higher-ups' commands, of course.

Gojo could only be in disdain. Then he remembered Nanami.

"How about Nanamin?" The white-haired could only hope for him.

Nanami felt like a bell had chimed inside his head and garnered his attention. He had no qualms of following orders, but as someone who had known you up to intimate level, he was compelled to forfend you from the detrimental eyes of the biased.

"Don't call me that," Nanami only spoke, downright nonchalantly.

Certainly, there were superior officials he never wanted to talk to meet, and that old man in front was one of them. Why was he spending his time with those people? He looked at everyone and treat them less than an insect in his eyes-it had always been that way, a lifelong pattern that could never be broken. All he could see were entitled, self-absorbed faces like inflating windbags wheezing their entitled, self-absorbed lives.

The blonde sorcerer only sighed, not allowing any nuisance into his face; however, he observed the proper decorum and profess a word with objectivity.

"I'm not sure if I'm inclined to say . . ." Nanami somehow managed to sound condescending despite the respectful term of address and gave Gojo a sidelong glance. ". . . but, Murphy Ryusei made a deal."

Alas!

Gojo remembered.

"The Binding Vow."

His exaltation brought light to his face.

How could he forget about it.

Since Ryusei's secret of your immortality and cursed technique had been shed to discover, might as well disclose the thing that kept you bound to them.

"Ryusei is not allowed to kill anyone," Gojo began, "instead, she's ought to protect everyone within a two-kilometer range. Even her loyalty and honesty are a part of the Vow; a distasteful punishment will be projected on her if she broke it even for a second. That's why your lack of knowledge and better judgement are nothing but haughty—was all pride and insolence."

The old man frowned and snarled, "Those are too good to be true. The conditions set must be a high price to pay."

With that, Gojo laughed mockingly. "That's not even a concern," he smirked, "because that woman is only obsessed about her death; therefore, her condition is to help her find a way to die."

Hard truth.

You only came here to find a place to die.

Nanami couldn't overlook the possibility of emotional entanglement.

He couldn't win a lost war.

The way you resolved even way before that your sole purpose was to be gone of this world-that was who you were . . . And he wouldn't compete with your obsession to die. You would fuck him, use him to your needs, and then return to agenda of dying.

Truly, he could never win.

No one did compel Gojo's words, the silence stilling on that four-cornered room.

"Well then," the white-haired sorcerer broke the silence, "in conclusion, Ryusei is not our enemy." He could stake his life for that. "If there's no objection, let's call this meeting—" off.

When Gojo was about to dismiss the futile gathering, all of a sudden, the surroundings were coated with ominous and incomprehensible horror, and sending everyone in the edge.

Something stirred the atmosphere and shadows were stretching unnaturally all throughout the place—as far as their eyes could witness.

Everyone went on alert, most especially Gojo—already had his gaze at the direction where a massive cursed energy was accumulating. He stood up in silence, nonetheless, to observe the situation even more.

Are they under attack again?

At least, Gojo was there.

But hell.

He didn't want to jinx what he had professed a little while back and tarnish his name and yours in front of everyone.

He could only groan to himself, feeling a little despondent. Gojo could sense you right at the center of the storm-like cursed energy.

Releasing a pent-up stress through a loud exhale, Gojo went to the porch of the meeting room, looking up in the process, only to be greeted by the sky being split in two. It was as if something malevolent was being awakened from that aerial rift-a manifestation of the unknowable nothingness that lied beyond.

Darkest blacks and reds, devious and wicked.

A veil was fully manifested like the darkest miasma ever produced.

Gojo would hate it if he would see you emerging from it.

And his eyes didn't lie to him.

You are emerging from it.

"That's . . ." he trailed at first, "Ryusei, huh?"

Yet it was something different.

Gojo was certain that it was you; your cursed energy was yours alone and nothing in that world wielded the same.

You appeared to be bound by those multiple, inky reddish black, thorny tendrils, and hung you upside down by your feet—hands being spread as if you were being crucified. You were shackled from head to feet, not a part of your skin was seen. The huge spines must have pierced you deep in your humanly flesh, and your blood was dripping thickly almost to no stop. He might be too far to hear it, but he could already imagine your bones snapping at the tension force was applied on the numerous vines that held you captive, and were strongly pulling your limbs in different directions.

Gojo attempted to teleport near you to steer clear of any impending tragedy, yet he remained on his feet.

Nanami had done the same; although would be lying if he said that he wasn't horrified by the sudden event of you facing death again, he kept it in a passive face.

Why won't she fight back?

All he could ask to himself.

No one was seemed worried.

Then he was reminded of how much of a death maniac you were. You would rather allow yourself to be blown into smithereens before healing yourself and counterattack—it was just simply your habit just to fully display your egoism.

The blackest of tendrils were devouring you, bones cracking, squeezing every bit of flesh in you—all for the purpose of turning you into shreds until nothing remained.

Everyone swallowed, either vigilantly or in affright.

Gojo, who had kept his composure, had now shown a faintest glimmer of panic.

It shouldn't be . . .

Although it can be.

You shouldn't die that easily.

The Binding Vow.

Although you were undead, given the circumstances, you couldn't be dead.

yep

f u C k me !

nnm fuck meee

- handtheirend