▬▬ windswept waste, diurnal pilgrims

I'm all words,

but without feelings.

Right . . .

I've noticed from the start.

I've always been lying.

All those compliments

I gave were just mere words

without emotions.

I only imitate what humans usually act.

And behind of those lies were just

empty words.

I wonder when will find my life?

I also don't know what I'm doing here,

ranting all of my petty thoughts.

Look at me . . . dwelling in

these annoying feelings of mine.

Because I don't understand—

I don't understand a thing.

I'm all confused.

What does heart supposed to mean?

I know what human heart was by definition,

but

I don't know what

it feels like.

It was Monday again.

You woke up early that day . . . Or rather, you didn't sleep at all. You had a few free hours, but you only did was to close your eyes while your thoughts was spiraling in the haze of despair.

After you duty in the infirmary, you grabbed snacks as your breakfast, then you only took a bath, did your morning skincare, wore your training apparel, tied your hair, and went to the school grounds. Your day would start training the second years. The first years would join as well. Since it was still early—six o'clock on the morning—you found yourself lying on the grass ground of the oval race track.

You stared at the sky, looking for signs and answers and the poetry that people had been writing between the dark dusk clouds. The sky was always a lost poetry—it was something that could be seen every day, yet also an image that the mind could forget immediately.

I just want to get photosynthesized.

You said dreamily as you watched the sun swelled its first light in the eastern lands.

It didn't take long when your students had arrived. Your morning duty as a teacher composed of beating someone half to death. Although you were drowsy and tired as fuck, they couldn't still land a blow on you. It must be years and years and years of experience and now you were a pro in the arts of defense.

In the afternoon, you were a different person; time for your sorcery mission. Being summoned to the principal's office, you dragged yourself to see Yaga.

"Gokuro," Principal Yaga greeted as soon as you enter the office.

"Well, yeah," you shrugged loosely. Like I have a choice. Then, you sat on the free chairs available in front his desk.

The principal didn't know what kind of person you were, moreso your immortality and the true nature of your cursed technique. He was one of Gojo's trusted people; Yaga already had so much on his plate—his life on the line because of Yuuji, for instance—and you'd be unnecessary and additional stress if he'd learn more of your secrets.

Yaga didn't beat around the bush and discussed your mission right away. "It'll be a guarding duty today," he said.

"Hah?" Your face immediately went frowning from a catatonic one. "Babysitting job?"

"A son of a higher-up," Yaga provided a clearer detail while ignoring your qualms. "There are threats of assassination that are being imposed on his family, that's why they're in need of protection."

You raised an eyebrow questionably and full of suspicion. "It's not a sorcerer's job to guard someone. If they're desperate to be protected, tell them to go to the police."

"You know that the sorcerers are independent in the society." His baritone voice was calm, but you could discern that he was reprimanding you. "And those who are threatening them are sorcerers as well." Yaga read the incoming outburst to your facial expression, so he immediately cut you off by saying, "Your client is waiting for you in the teachers' office. You partner for this mission will explain you the details."

"Uuuuggghhhhhhh . . !" you grumbled hoarsely as you threw your head back in so much frustration. "There are other missions there, why a babysitting job?" You bet that son is a useless nepo baby.

Yaga didn't concern himself in answering your whining, and you took that as a sign of snubbing you out because he probably didn't give a fuck. For Yaga, no matter how you nagged about your mission, you would still do it, nonetheless. Much more, the successful rate of your job was high and low in casualties.

With trailing feet, you led yourself outside the office. Teachers' office, huh? You wondered idly while walking on the hallway. Two sorcerers for this mission—you could tell your partner would be also a grade 1 sorcerer.

You hated it; those higher-ups were abusing their power. Just because they were in the most top position of the triangle, they could already order anyone as if they—sorcerers—were slaves.

That annoyed you the most.

I'll show them who's the boss.

And upon reaching the teachers' office, you kicked the door open—unannounced. It was just a hallow-core door and the knob lock set was old, thus it broke but the hinges were still attached. You had a dreadful calamity forged on your visage as you entered. There, you saw Nanami settled on a couch. Grade 1 sorcerer, nailed it. Seated beside him was another man—a higher-up's son.

He gazed up at you, then a vitrified horror was flashed on his face upon seeing you.

"A WOMAN?" he flabbergasted as if your biological self was the most disgusting thing in his sight.

Your eyes got narrowed more in indignation. You had just found yourself a misogynistic asshole.

"Why the hell my other bodyguard is a woman?!" Anxiety was rising up on his face, getting a lot more hysterical as he fired up his indecent remarks. "How could someone like her protect me?! This is ridiculous! Where's Gojo Satoru?! I demand him to keep my safety!"

With a straight face, eyes locked very intently at him, you strode to the couches adjacent to him and sat down. You didn't cut the eye contacts as you try to dominate him, making your stares to be a threat. Predators locked eyes on their preys and preys would just regress around threats.

He faltered and tried his best to avoid you.

Animals such as him didn't like staring at them for too long. He must be on his 30's. His lack of sleep was prominent; anxiety might be keeping him awake. He had dark circles underneath his eyes and quick breathing or shortness of breath just puffing out his dismay.

You chuckled derisively because the assassination attempts on him were obviously true.

"What are you smirking for?!" Of course, he would react defensively with aggression to indicate his displeasure. "Aren't you a little arrogant, you bitch?! For all I know you're the first one to die!"

You only huffed, crossing your arms and legs.

"Why, you—?!" His irritation burst out like a steam out of a boiling kettle. Your haughtiness brought him a sense of mischief. He proceeded calling you with abusive words that encompassed sexual behavior or be compared as sub-human animals.

You let him talk shit to you while you were watching with full amusement on you visage.

Society outside was always like that, and in the Jujutsu Society was a lot more prevalent. Women were treated unfairly and affected by a misogynistic structure. In long, long timeline you had walked upon, you had experienced much of it, given that history had not been kind to women.

Ugly! Skank! Weakling! Useless! Trash!

That summed up his mumblings from his disintegrated brain.

Basing from his derogatory comments, his definition of female sorcerers was reduced in "being pretty" while being strong.

"Say something, you weirdo!" And yes, he still had the audacity to demand you to speak. It must be an act of self-embarrassment for you were silent the whole he was piping up his frustration on his own accord.

Again, you scoffed.

"Ah," you uttered with lingering tone on your throat, "I'm just thinking, you see."

"What thinking?!" he asked with an incontrollable outburst.

"I can't seem to decide whether I keep you dead or alive." You put your chin up, looking at him with an evil glint on your eyes.

The man swallowed hard upon feeling the looming evilness your cursed energy produced.

"Since you've proclaimed that I'm a weakling and couldn't protect you, I'd say that you'll be the first one to die in this mission," you smiled coldly, bereft of humane elucidation. "And I'll be standing in front of your soon-to-corpse body bathed with your worthless blood while desperately trying to breathe like a dying fish out of water. Although you had an ugly death, don't you worry, because you're so damn high and righteous, you will go to heaven. Not a bad thing, right?"

"Y-YOU——!" He sounded like he was about to have a heart attack; his absolute fear might have made blood pressure to rise. "Y-You're one of the assassins! H-Hey, you–" he grabbed Nanami's arm– "go dispose of that woman! She's an assassin! She'd kill me!"

Nanami only sighed as he adjusted his eyewear. "She's not and she wouldn't," he replied to the crybaby, then he aligned his gazes at you. "Murphy-san, please stop scaring him."

You deactivated your cursed energy and made a disgusted face. "C'mon now, Nanami, I know that you're also against this mission. Who would even want to protect this bloody asshole?"

Your insult burned the weakling's ears. "Bloody asshole?" he then quoted. "Murphy is your name, huh? I'll see to it that you're terminated tomorrow!"

You only fanned your hand dismissively. "Go ahead, do it. It would only increase your chance of death. The special grades and other first grades are out, so you have no choice but to deal with us. Demanding for Gojo? Man, I bet that guy would sit with me watching your death scene while eating salted caramel popcorn." You'd been hearing Satoru's nagging about the higher-ups and his desire to annihilate them all. He was in an overseas mission right now, and he probably skipped this mission and refered it to you.

The asshole—you hadn't learned his name yet—was about to throw a fit, prepared to hurl the hot tea on you, but Nanami was quicker than him and restrained him from what he was going to do.

"We have no time for this." Another weary sigh came out from the gaps of his lips. "We have to go."

You admired how Nanami was handling that situation so professionally.

Pouting your lips, you conceded to him. If he was there with you, that mission would be less forbearing.

The jaded sorcerer stood up, buttoning his coat. Then he looked at you, "Let's go," he urged, "I'll explain the details in the car."

You and the other man followed Nanami as he treaded to the doorway. The spoiled man was only mumbling demands of protection, and if not, he would just say threats.

As soon as they reached the parking lot, Ichiji was already waiting for them there, and then they settled inside the car. Nanami and the other guy were in the backseat, whilst you sat on the passenger seat and Ichiji was the driver.

The assassination group that was after that higher-up's son was called Morning Sun, and the reason why he was being targeted was kept secret. They only want us to follow them blindly, you said in the mind. The objective for today's mission was to assure that he was still alive by the time they reached Kyoto—where the other branch of Jujutsu Tech—apparently, there was a livable containment cube made for him.

"Kyoto, huh?" you mused, thinking about the beautiful sceneries there. "But what would our transportation be?"

"Via private plane, Murphy-san," answered Ichiji.

"Eh?" There was a sound protest on your voice. "Logically, the bullet train is much better than a plane."

"How can you tell?" Nanami queried.

"I mean, if the assassination attempts were true, then they already know about the private plane."

They fell silent upon realizing it, because if you were the assassin, you would do your research and sabotage them.

While Ichiji was driving it, he couldn't contain the worrisome on his face. "S-So, what do we do, Murphy-san?"

You only shrugged, making a moued face. "Dunno. Not my decision to make." Then you gazed at the spoiled brat crybaby through the rearview mirror. His face was shriveled up with trembling anxiety. You didn't concern about his safety, anyway, since they were stern in following the implementations.

"L-Let's take the shinkansen . . ."

Although you had insulted him in every possible way, he somehow trusted you. As he should, though.

"You heard him," you said to Ichiji.

"Hai!" he responded with determination as he drove with an objective to bring you three to the train station.

The Tokyo Jujutsu Tech was located in the secluded and mountainous part of Tokyo and you were all on the way to the urban part of it. The travel would be quite long, thus you used that time to book tooks online .

Silence lingered inside the car, except from the chattering sound of the weakling's teeth. You wanted to shut him up, but you appeared that you got used with.

Yet, as soon as reaching the city, it didn't take long enough when you spoke.

"Ichiji," you called, "do you know how to drive?"

It appalled him. He is already driving. He had no idea why would you still ask such an obvious answer.

"We got company," you said, a bit amused.

"Haa?! W-W-Wha . . . What?!" Ichiji panicked that he almost lost his grip on the steering wheel.

Trying to identify what you meant, Ichiji asked who were they. You told them, urging them to look behind. Three motorcycles and three black vans.

"How could you tell they were assassin's?" Nanami asked, keeping his composure.

"Just a hunch," you said nonchalantly as you relaxed on your seat. "We'll only know once they attacked."

Having a better judgement—as always—Nanami gave orders to test something out. "Try taking detours," he told Ichiji, "if they followed persistently, then Murphy-san is right."

They could only do nothing but remain calm in that situation. You took a glance at the side mirror as Ichiji followed Nanami's words. Good thing, Ichiji knew a lot about the city's circumbendibus—still taking the right to the bullet train while trying to shake off the suspicious tails.

And thus, your hunch was right. From what the motorcycle riders were wearing, their jackets must be packed with ammunition. The car they were on wasn't bulletproofed as well. Really, RIP.

"You better know how to drive, Ichiji," you spoke as you tried to look for a handgun in the glove compartment. Unfortunately, there was none. "Does anyone of you have a gun or any weapon?"

"I-I do!" said the panicky guy. "I have a gun . . !"

"Gimme," you ordered while reaching your hand back.

"I have a gun as well, Murphy-san," Ichiji informed as he took his gun out of his holster strap.

"I'd gladly take it," you replied as soon got the gun of the man you didn't know what name. Both of them were revolvers, thus you only had twelve rounds of shots. Gotta make the full use of it.

The attack started when a motorcycle went ahead in front of the road, and each driver had a partner.

"Go steady for a bit, Ichiji."

He immediately complied and stayed concentrated on the road.

Inhaling, exhaling.

"A'ight, here we go."

As you declared, it was the same time when they started shooting the car. You protected Ichiji from the trajectory of the bullets, whilst Nanami and the other person behind ducked down.

Those initial shots must be a warning for now, but you decided to hastily make a move since you didn't have a cover.

You opened the windscreen, in a fast cue, you slid the half of your body through the opening while steadying the lower half and aimed for the tires of the motorcycle. You didn't even waited for the motorcycle to crash because you knew your shots were perfect. While feeling the wind with your hair and face, you twisted your torso to look back to the remaining two motorcycles. Judging from the speed of the car, the wind direction, and distance of your target, you pointed the gun to the next one. Having no obstacles on sight and while your enemies were startled, you pulled the trigger.

A single breath was only your limit, you directed the barrel crown to the last motorcycle and fired another bullet. You have each motorcycle two shots, directly hitting the tire and engine.

Your talent in holding a gun didn't betray you when the three motorcycles got toppled down. The three men were amazed by you, because you must have honed your skills sharp that even though in motion, you were on point.

"Speed up!" you shouted once you sighted the vans were catching up.

Ichiji gunned the car fast—still staying on the road-right-of-way—enough to put a gap between them.

The whole ride was all about raining bullets. The only reason why the car was still surviving was because of Ichiji's driving and knowledge about the conflagration of the roads.

Sooner enough, the vans had caught up. One of them counterflowed on the road, meeting the car you were on with a machine gun directed on you all.

As usual, Ichiji was prompt enough and took a sharp left turn to escape the range of their assault.

But they only took an en route as they made a formation. One stayed behind, one went on the right side of the car, and the last two charged in front. To have a countermeasure, he attempted to turn on the next right corner, hoping to lost them, but they didn't.

"Get the car on our right next to us," you ordered.

He obliged, slowing down a bit to get them near the sorcerers.

A guy from the assassin team had their car's windscreen opened as he was pointing a machine gun—the same what the military used.

You defended yourself and Ichiji from the barrage of bullets by fending them off with your kalis daggers saturated with a bit of your cursed energy.

What was troublesome with those kind of guns was they were intended for sustained automatic fire. It was usually used for suppression and vehicle-mounted anti-infantry work.

You smirked; reality speaking, a grade 1 sorcerer was worth a corps. Foes dependent on guns were third-rate assassin.

The windshield of the car was shattered immediately, but thank goodness that the engine was still working. You then gave the revolver back to the other man behind you and grabbed Ichiji's gun. Six shots left. You smirked, thinking of ways how to survive that with mere bullets. Yet it was better doing something than doing nothing. Before they could wreck the engine, you took a quick action as you opened the door, and bent down as low as the car's surface. You aimed for the driver of the van in front while steadying your breaths. You were not supposed to kill, thus you shoot him precisely on the shoulders.

It was an abrupt attack, the driver must have screamed in pain as they went off the course. They hit the concrete road barrier and rendered unable.

Ichiji stepped up on the gas again to stray out from the assaults of the two remaining vehicles preying on you all.

"Thanks for that, Murphy-san," Ichiji professed a bit shaky while gripping the steering wheel right. It was a life and death event, and for a mortal like him, it was nerving.

"Iie," you replied, "And good to know you can drive."

"Enough of the chitchat!!" The man's voice erupted out of spite. "How long before we reach the shinkansen?! Am I going to die here?! Are we—?!"

Then his words became incoherent, only screaming hysterically.

You had no tolerance when it came to his noisy ass so you smacked the side of his neck hard. His wailings were cut off as he chocked out loud, then falling forwards and losing his consciousness.

Eyes aligning to the blonde sorcerer, you tilted you head as if you were greeting him full of cordiality.

"You okay there?" you asked Nanami with a subtle sideward grin.

"I am, apparently." He appeared to be relaxed, but you could also feel how tired he already was.

You gave him a closed-eye grin and said to him, "We have a long day ahead of us, let's do our best, yeah?"

His face blanched as he sighed. "You seemed to enjoy this."

Seconds later when bullets had reached the car once again.

You and Nanami sank lower to the seats as you annoyance peaked even higher. "Oh please," you replied and a note of sarcasm was heard, "you know that I don't."

Inching higher again to your seat, you gazed at the van behind and gritted your teeth silently. There were two more SUVs left, and it would be disadvantageous if some of their members arrived for reinforcement.

"How long before we arrive to the main station?" you asked the driver.

"Twenty minutes top," answered Ichiji while still driving that worn out car at top speed.

"That's too long." You then felt a bullet that was about to shoot Ichiji in the head, so you immediately grabbed his head and angled it away from the alignment of the bullet. "You okay?"

"Y-Yeah," Ichiji murmured while adjusting his eyeglasses. "G-Going back, there will be a subway at least five kilometers from here."

"Oh, that's nice." It was a good opportunity to blend in with people. "You should get us there."

"Of course!"

At least five kilometers left. Since you all were left to tread the main station by feet, you needed the weakling's cooperation. You chopped him in the neck with the side of your palm, and it had varying nerves that when hit hard, that certain nerve would come off the brain stem and extreme pain followed in seconds—which caused the brain to shut down the body. You healed him afterwards, only to wake up screaming in so much affright.

You wanted to hit him again, but if he lost consciousness again, it would piss you off more to carry him.

Glancing once more at the back, it would be much better if the two SUVs were taken care of before they reached the subway. There should be at least a clothing store there; aiming for a quick change would help them to be invisible from the eyes of the enemies. The bigger the crowd, the better to be in, because it would be hard to pay attention to them—the main point why.

Inside the fast car, one of the two remaining enemies made a new move. One assassin  started gunning the car—probably it wouldn't last much.

And yes, it wouldn't really last much.

Especially when the guy shooting the car ceased for a moment, then exchanging the machine gun with a rocket-propelled grenade launcher.

What . . . the fuck.

"You better evade that, Ichiji." You were still unfazed, chuckling humorlessly.

An RPG's minimum velocity was 117 meters per second, it would take a great skills in able to evade it.

Ichiji might have pulled a miracle from the heavens; within a single hair breadth, Ichiji dodged it.

An explosion ripped through next as if two giant hands had torn the road. Inside their own car, they felt the tremendous shrieks of the RPG setting off as the ground shook.

Those assassins were unforgiving, dragging even the lives of innocent people.

You wanted to intercept them before they could reload.

Opening the door again, you stood there while balancing yourself as you held on tight to the handle grip on the ceiling. When an RPG was launched, it would be hard to fend it off, thus before it could launch, with one hand, you aimed for the person responsible for the missiles and shot him in the shoulder. Upon the the RPG operator was taken down, you shot the driver as well.

It didn't take long when you successfully defeated the enemy and went back to your seat.

And so, all of you only had one van to deal with.

It became awfully quiet, searching in every angle if there were still some bastards to show. At least a kilometer left to reach the subway, then your muttered your prayers to the heavens when nothing showed.

You wondered why the last SUV was nowhere to be seen . . . It was nerving and suspicious. They couldn't just disappear just like that.

Soon, already reaching the subway, you were still doubtful to be complacent to assume that all of you were safe by now.

Getting out of the car, you somehow, you jinxed what you had proclaimed a bit earlier.

The last van had came charging towards you all in full speed.

You plastered an awry expression. "Seriously?"

Beside you, you heard Nanami letting out a quiet sigh. "Let me handle this," he said as he stepped in front of you. "You should assist Mori-san here."

Oh, so Mori is his name.

You had been calling him in whatever sort of  profanity, so.

Mori, the panicky guy was crouching down the sidewalk as if he was already expecting his demise.

You ignored him.

The car was fast approaching. And another gunner had appeared from the windscreen of the car.

You only had three bullets left.

Whatever Nanami was about to do, you needed to aid him.

While you held the gun with your dominant hand and gripped it tightly. Assuming a proper shooting position: feet and shoulder width apart and knees slightly bent. Now, from your ready position, arms extended out in front of you, you prepared to shoot your target. You kept both of your eyes open, because your target was moving from its original position.

You aimed for the mouth of his gun, needing to render his munition useless before it could harm others

Counting from one to three, inhaling deep and exhaling deep, you pulled the trigger.

As you hit your target, so as you damaged the gunner.

He didn't expect the pain, and so he fell from the window of the car.

Yet the speed of the car never ceased, unforgiving as the driver was dedicated to complete his mission.

It was when Nanami decided to end this. Stepping forward—at least two meters apart from you. With the gesture of his right hand, you could tell that he unbuttoned his suit. Also clawing the knot of his tie with two fingers, he pulled it down, loosening it.

The overspeeding car was nearing, recklessly rushing towards Nanami as if they meant to kill him.

Nanami wasn't a man who would run to the edge of a cliff just to fall down into a bottomless chasm.

Few seconds left.

He then brandished his right arm high, clenching his fist tight and secured, using those few seconds to twist his hips and legs to increased his power and momentum.

The 7:3 sorcerer swung a roundhouse punch with his fist undulated with immense teal-colored cursed energy

The happening was too fast for you to register on your brain.

Without being aware of it how, there was a loud breaking of metal and glass. It was pure noise, mangled of screeching tires against the brake pedals.

Yet it didn't ended there.

As the vehicle slammed into Nanami's fist, and exploded with a shriek, the car flew backwards for a few meters away, gliding across the main avenue of the city, causing of collision of multiple cars on the road.

Showered in a rain of fragmented glass, he turned around quietly as if he didn't made a scene that was straight out of an action movie.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he stood in front of you.

Unable to conceal you surprise, you stared at Nanami with gem-like eyes. You heard him speaking to you, but the image did hold you spellbound as you indulged in such fantasies. There arose in you the idea that in such a entangled scenario, something ought to happen to you that would send a fresh stimulus through you brain stems. Something unusual. Something invigorating . . . Even though it might not be exactly what you anticipated.

Then you blinked once, gaining you composure when he already passed you by.

"Y-Yeah," you said then you quickly followed him.

He only grabbed the Mori-san by the collar of his suit and pulled him up.

The three of you headed to the subway and looked for a clothing shop so that you three could change attire. After some time, thank goodness there were no extra intruders, you all three boarded the train.

Ever since you lived different lives, your life consisted of merely waking up, preparing for work, going to work, dealing with shitty people, talking to strangers, drugging yourself, gambling, anything. You were only spending your whole entirety of whole day to trivial, fleeting matters, so there was nothing in it particularly like a while ago.

You were bored to death each day to see the same face of evolutionized monkeys, worked with them, share a meal with them—basically sharing a fellowship with them. No wonder why you were bored.

But a few days ago, it had been quite evident that you were having a little fun with that current life of yours, falling out of your listlessness that you were quite surprised about.

And then, you pondered.

Being a sorcerer might not be that bad.

Living just to die.

yayyy finished after two weeks or more
unedited as well lol

imma update this book more often lels
until i get to that exciting part 👀
tho it will take time as well bc it would
be another actions scenes (i wanna stab myself and d!e)
i went hiatus to my itachi fic, bc it
consists of actions scenes as well,
then coming back to this book
to write another set of actions scenes

btw, happy d3ath day to gojo lmaoooo

but i think dude ain't dead yet
gg is a shitty writer
and i meant that

bye

— HANDTHE