Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The war was long over.

The world no longer burned beneath the heels of mad kings and ancient beasts.

Races of the dark attributes walked freely among the people who once scorned them.

Cities that once lay in ruin stood proud, rebuilt and reborn.

The Western and Eastern continents, once enemies divided by distrust and blood, now stood united under a banner of hard-earned peace.

At the center of that peace stood one man.

Cale Henituse.

Hero, Savior, Young Master Silver Shield, Legend.

Supreme Commander

And now, just a man lying quietly in his bed, waiting to die.

The curtains of his private chamber fluttered as a breeze from the open balcony stirred the air.

Sunlight streamed through like liquid gold, painting warm highlights on crimson hair that had long since faded to a soft auburn touched with silver.

His body, once too thin due to the many times he coughed up blood, had grown frail. But his eyes… those reddish-brown eyes remained sharp, clear.

And, most especially, kind.

“Cale…”

It was then a trembling voice spoke up.

Ohn.

Now a woman in her own right, yet her voice cracked like a child’s as she clutched his hand.

Beside her stood Hong, shoulders straight, expression composed, but his hand on Cale’s shoulder trembled.

Raon was there too, no longer a child, but a majestic dragon that had long since dwarfed the size of the room. He transformed into an almost replica of Cale in his twenties, his blue eyes rimmed red.

“Human,” Raon whispered, “You promised… You said you would live until I was grown. Until I was old enough to cook pancakes for you instead.”

At that, Cale gave a slow, shallow chuckle.

“You are grown, Raon. Too big now to fit our room. I still remember when you could barely fly in a straight line.”

“You still can’t fly at all!” Raon sniffled, trying to joke back. “See? I win!”

More laughter, from Alberu Crossman, no, the Emperor of Roan and from others gathered at the foot of the bed.

Eruhaben, a little older, a little quieter, stood at the balcony looking out at the golden horizon.

They had all come.

His family. His people. His comrades.

And all the people who mattered to Cale.

Cale looked at them and felt… peace.

“I’m tired,” he admitted quietly. “But I’m glad I got to see this. A world that doesn’t need saving.”

“Don’t say your goodbyes yet,” Choi Han muttered hoarsely. Still looking as young as Cale first met him.

“I’m not,” Cale replied with a faint smile. “Just saying… thank you. For staying with me. And for living.”

His eyelids then began to droop.

His hand, once so steady with plans and schemes and wine glasses, relaxed in Ohn's grasp.

As the last breath left his body, the wind blew softly through the balcony doors, rustling the sheets like a whispered farewell.

Cale Henituse, the man who never wanted to be a hero, passed quietly under a golden sky.

And the world mourned the lost of its guardian.

Or so he thought.

Then suddenly—

Cold.

Bright.

And annoyingly loud.

Why is everything so loud? 

Cale opened his mouth to curse.

However, what came out was an angry wail.

"WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—!"

It came to him instinctively, an absurd thought that seemed to have suddenly sprung up.

'Ah,' he thought dully, 'I’m a baby.'

The noise, the lights, and the oversensitive senses. It all made a horrifying sort of sense.

And the exhaustion wasn’t from a long war or political intrigue; it was because he had literally just been born.

He had died peacefully surrounded by friends and family, only to be dragged, quite rudely, in his opinion, into a new body with lungs too small for proper sighing.

And Cale Henituse, Hero of the Two Continents, could only groan in defeat inside.

'…Not again.' 

✧✧✧

The Ashborn Clan was ancient.

Older than England itself, they claimed.

Rooted in elemental sorcery, built on centuries of accumulated power and arrogant nobility. A prestigious foreign clan affiliated with the world of jujutsu, they operated parallel to the institutions in Japan.

They were known for their elegance, their ruthlessness… and their extraordinary innate techniques.

So naturally, when the heir was born with fiery red hair, eyes like sunlight through wine, and a sorcerer’s presence that made even the elders flinch, the clan was intrigued.

Honestly, delighted even.

Lord Ashborn, the clan head, was a tall, imposing man with iron-grey eyes. And Lady Ashborn, his wife, was said to be a beauty in her youth, though that beauty had clearly passed to her son, and then magnified tenfold.

The child they named Cale von Ashborn was theirs by blood.

The legitimate heir.

The living storm in swaddling cloth.

And even as an infant, he was… strange.

A little too quiet, a little too observant.

And definitely too pretty.

“Is it normal for a baby to look like that?” one elder whispered once in awe and alarm.

“No,” another replied flatly. “No, it’s not. He looks like a painting. My grandchild was definitely not born like him.”

And the others could only nod their heads in agreement. 

However as Cale grew, it only got worse.

Since the day he's been born, Cale didn't let anyone cut his hair and resisted with all of his baby might. Only allowing a slight trim at the ends when Lady Ashburn coaxed him that it's for better hair growth. 

How she decided to coax a baby who couldn't possibly understand her was beyond the elders, but then it worked much to their astonishment.

And now, by the age of five, Cale von Ashborn had let his long crimson hair grow down his shoulders.

His reddish-brown eyes, calm and perceptive for someone his age, gleamed gold when sunlight touched them. His pale skin and sharp features gave him an ethereal, almost otherworldly look.

He was undeniably beautiful.

And he was also undeniably powerful.

At four years old, his technique awakened.

And not just one.

He manipulated water in the bathtub. Burned holes in rugs by accident. Froze tea in the air. And summoned breezes when upset.

The Ashborn elders were ecstatic.

“A prodigy!” they proclaimed.

“Elemental affinity across all primary forms? Impossible!”

“He’s not just the heir, he’s the future of the clan!”

And Cale in response only looked at them blankly.

'I just wanted to wash my hands without freezing the sink.'

Still, he played along.

He learned quickly.

He trained under the guidance of his parents (if Choi Han or the others knew of this, they would be shocked speechless).

He tested the boundaries of his power and discovered that this strange new world had a different system, one that spoke of cursed energy, of sorcerer ranks, and of cursed techniques and domains.

He had a technique, yes.

But more than that, he had control, discipline, and experience.

After all, this wasn’t his first life.

But he still hadn’t quite figured out where he was.

Not until five years old.

The Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical School was quiet that spring morning.

Birds chirped in the branches of nearby cherry trees.

The courtyard was swept clean. Inside, the atmosphere was tense but veiled in polite pleasantries. An upcoming diplomatic meeting between Japan’s highest-ranking jujutsu officials and the powerful Ashborn Clan wasn’t exactly an everyday event.

Cale von Ashborn walked between his parents in ceremonial robes, red hair glinting like fire in the sunlight. A thin circlet rested on his head, he was told it was for formality.

One that made him look like an elf prince rather than a prominent sorcerer clan’s heir.

And he hated it.

However, he kept his expression neutral.

His parents had a talk with him before flying to Japan and told him how important this event is in concern of the exchanges of the two countries. They initially didn't want him to join, but had to back down when the elders protested vehemently, citing that the Jewel of the Family must attend to further expand the heir's view and learn.

His mother apologetically held his hands as she told him this, with his father's solemn form sulking at the corner.

So Cale decided to be a well-behaved child in this event as his mother had raised him, and as expected of someone of his position, no matter how much he loathes it.

However, as Cale continued to walk the halls of Jujutsu High, a swirling anxiety was growing inside him.

Not because of the meeting, no. It'll be just some old farts smiling at each other while sneering internally.

It was because the moment they’d landed in Japan, something had started to buzz in his bones.

A heavy, invisible current in the air, like a spiritual pressure, like the presence of something that demanded attention.

It felt like a plot.

And he had lived through enough plot.

They entered the meeting courtyard, and immediately, Cale felt it.

An impossibly bright cursed energy surged toward him from the far end of the yard. It was like standing in the sun.

Unrefined, strong, and crackling with arrogance.

Cale felt his eye twitch. 

He was already planning his escape when he saw him.

A boy his age stood in the grass, dressed in white traditional clothes of Japan.

His hair was a snowy mess, and his eyes were a shining blue that made the sky pale in comparison.

And most importantly, he looked like trouble.

The confident kind of trouble that knew he was the strongest in the room and didn't care, hence the bored expression on his face.

The boy took one look at Cale, stopped in the middle of his steps, and promptly stared.

“…Whoa,” he said simply.

And Cale stared back, panic rising in him as he recognized those features.

'Oh no.'

The white haired boy blinked before grinning widely, much to his attendants surprise.

And then ran straight at him like a kid discovering his new favorite toy.

“Hi!” he shouted cheerily. “I’m Gojo Satoru! Who are you? You’re really pretty!”

And in response, Cale von Ashborn took a single step back and let out a resounding “No.”

“No what?”

“Nope, I’m not doing this.”

“Doing what?”

Cale immediately turned to his father, eyes pleading for mercy, much to the adults' bewilderment.

“I’m going back to the car.”

However, Gojo Satoru in response, merely beamed brighter.

“You’re funny!”

“I’m serious.”

“Do you want candy?”

“No.”

“Wanna fight?”

Cale glared at the white menace who simply wiggled his fingers like he was casting a curse.

Finally, Cale looked skyward and deadpanned

“Cale,” he whispered in mock despair, “You fool. You absolute fool. You got yourself isekai’d into another protagonist’s story again.”

Gojo Satoru had latched onto him.

And there was no escape

✧✧✧

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CHAPTER END

Chapter Text

The meeting between the Ashborns and the Tokyo Jujutsu higher-ups passed without incident.

Which was impressive, really, considering Gojo Satoru spent the entire time trying to sit next to Cale, also tried to hold his hand, ask him 437 questions, and brag about his own cursed energy like a sugared-up radio host.

“Did you see me jump off the tree?”

“I can make sparkly walls with my brain!”

“Do you like sweets? I’ll give you some if you promise to be my best friend forever.”

Cale, now seated with the patience of a saint and the facial expression of a dying office worker, slowly chewed through a rice cracker.

He stared at Gojo, then at the elders, and then back at Gojo.

'Why is no one stopping him? Why is this allowed?'

The Gojo elders kept stealing glances at their heir, still finding the scene bewildering. They never saw him act that way, so they don't know how to respond in return. 

Lady Ashborn, on the other hand, looked delighted as she clasped her hands and cooed at them.

“He’s so friendly, darling. Isn’t this nice?”

Lord Ashborn gave only a grunt that sounded suspiciously like a stifled laugh, “Seems he’s taken a liking to you.”

And Cale felt his soul weep in helplessness seeing his parents enjoy his predicament.

Later, when the official business was done, Cale found himself trapped in a training yard with Gojo, under the excuse of “Let the kids play! It’ll build international bonds!”

The only thing being bonded was his patience.

“Let’s spar!” Gojo chirped. “I’ll go easy on you.”

“We're five,” Cale replied flatly. “Neither of us knows how to spar properly.”

“I do!” Gojo puffed up. “I watched a whole fight between adults last week. I memorized it.”

Cale raised a delicate red eyebrow at his words. Skeptism clear on his expression.

“Memorized it.”

“Yep!”

“That doesn’t mean you can do it.”

“I’ve got talent! Come on, pretty boy. Don’t be shy!”

Cale blinked, momentarily confused at the term Gojo used.

“Did you just call me—”

BOOM!

Gojo’s cursed energy flared, sending up a puff of dust from the grass. His blue eyes sparkled, the way a cat’s might when it spots something it wants to chase.

Cale, who was 90% sure he had more experience and trauma than half the faculty in this school, felt an ice-cold chill of annoyance and activated his own cursed energy.

It responded like a tidal wave.

A storm of wind rushed across the yard.

The very trees bent and the air crackled with energy.

Even Gojo took a step back in surprise.

Cale stood there in loose robes, hair billowing like crimson flame, golden light flickering in his eyes.

He raised a single hand and pointed at Gojo.

“You come any closer,” he said calmly, “and I will bury you in sand up to your neck.”

Gojo stared at him in surprise for a while before blinking, and then grinning in what could only be an expression of excitement.

“I knew I liked you!”

At the unanticipated response, Cale let out a slow breath in defeat.

'Oh no', he thought. 'He’s even worse than Choi Han as a kid.'

That night, in the fancy hotel his clan had been given, Cale stared at the ceiling and let out the most defeated sigh a five-year-old could possibly manage.

He had been reincarnated.

Into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen.

His body was tiny, his new powers were dramatic, and now he had a new... friend?

Enemy?

Gojo Satoru was a menace, and unfortunately, Cale suspected he’d be seeing a lot more of him in the future.

Still, as he rolled over and tugged his blanket up, one thought lingered in his mind.

'…At least I’m not coughing up blood anymore.'

Small victories.

✧✧✧

Cale’s plan had been simple: survive the visit, return to England, and go back to pretending this world wasn’t a cursed-infested warzone waiting to explode.

Instead, the meeting extended. The Ashborns would stay in Japan for two more weeks.

Two. Whole. Weeks.

And Gojo Satoru had already declared it the best two weeks of his life.

“Let’s hang out tomorrow! And the day after that! And the day after that!”

“I’ll introduce you to Japan's snacks.”

“Hey, do you want to train together? Or nap? I can nap too. I’m very flexible.”

Cale von Ashborn, five years old and dangerously close to spiritual burnout, watched the white-haired disaster-child bounce around like a radioactive puppy and wondered.

'Is this punishment? Did I not suffer enough in my last life?'

Worse still, Gojo seemed to have somehow claimed him like a dragon hoarding treasure. When older kids or elders tried to approach Cale out of polite curiosity, Gojo would zip in with lightning speed and announce.

“He’s with me.”

“You want to talk to Cale? Get in line.”

“Nope, he’s busy. We’re bonding.”

Cale sighed, before opening his mouth to interject.

“We are not bonding.”

In response, Gojo Satoru held out a rice ball, “Eat this and bond with me.”

“I don’t want to bond.”

He says but proceeded to take the offered rice ball and munch on it.

Who's he to ignore free food?

“You already are! Look at us, you’re already prettier when you’re annoyed.”

Cale almost choked at the menace's words.

“What?”

And Gojo had the audacity to smile mischievously and declare innocently.

“Nothing!”

Cale could only grumble as he continued to eat, with Gojo refilling his plate every time he finished.

And the worst part?

Gojo wasn’t lying.

Ever since Cale arrived, people stared at him not just because of his cursed energy, but because of his looks.

Red hair down his shoulders like silk, reddish-brown eyes that turned molten gold in sunlight, and the kind of ethereal glow that made people whisper.

It didn’t help that he was elegant and graceful.

Cale carried himself with a sort of timeless poise that made people pause mid-sentence.

At his young age, he already had the other sorcerer families in Japan whispering, 'Who is that foreign prince?'

He hated it.

He hated it almost as much as he hated how Gojo kept staring.

“Why are you looking at me again?” Cale asked one afternoon, catching him mid-stare.

Gojo didn't flinch at being caught. He merely tilted his head with his eyes wide as he said seriously.

“You’re really pretty.”

“I’m five.”

“So am I.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“You’re like... shiny.”

“I’m going home.”

“Nooooooo!”

And Gojo chased him relentlessly across the courtyard.

Much to Cale's dismay.

At night, Cale sat in the hotel garden, watching the moon. The night was still, and his cursed energy pulsed gently in the air. Earth, wind, fire, water, and wood humming through his veins like an old companion.

In his past life, he’d fought wars, saved worlds, and died as a hero.

And now?

He was five years old again in a world of curses, with a stalker-friend made of limitless potential and also limitless chaos.

Cale rested his chin on his knees sullenly.

“…I’m going to need tea,” he muttered. “And probably a therapist.”

It was at that moment, as if he was waiting, Gojo popped out of a bush behind him.

“I brought cookies!”

And Cale didn’t even flinch at the sudden visit, he merely continued to be sullen in his corner.

“I hate this life.”

“You don't.”

"You don't know that."

"I know so!"

The following week was another type of hell Cale didn't sign up for.

“I don’t want to duel,” Cale said flatly.

However, the elders at Jujutsu High smiled like they didn’t hear him.

Lord Ashborn looked at him proudly as he patted his back.

“It’s a chance to test your compatibility.”

On the other hand, Lady Ashborn cheered for him and beamed brightly. 

“Wouldn’t it be nice to show your new friend how talented you are?”

“I don’t want to show anyone anything.”

And Gojo grabbed his hand, a too eager look in his face.

“Too late, I already know you’re amazing.”

Cale stared down at the small hand holding his. Then up at Gojo, whose grin was wide enough to be a threat.

'This is abuse,' Cale thought bitterly. 'I’m five. I should be playing with sticks, not blowing up training yards for political reasons.'

But duel he did.

They gave them a mock battlefield, full of boulders and sand, meant to suppress large-scale attacks.

Cale stood across from a smug-looking boy from one of Japan’s Three Big Clans. The poor child looked like he thought this would be easy.

Somehow, Cale doesn't like the look on this kid's face. The kid smiled condescendingly and Cale smiled back.

And then proceeded to bury the boy in a landslide of earth and water, casually swirling lightning through the air like a storm god, just to make a point.

The match ended in ten seconds.

The boy cried, while he elders clapped. And Gojo stared at him with sparkling eyes.

“I knew you were cool!”

Cale turned away, flicking his hair back over his shoulder, “I held back.”

“You threw him across the field like a leaf.”

“I could’ve used fire.”

“You’re beautiful and terrifying. You’re my new favorite person.”

“I’m really not.”

“You’re my rival now.”

“No.”

“Too late. You’ve been rivaled.”

Cale could only look at him in defeat.

Somehow, he felt like he won the battle but lost the war.

Later that afternoon, as he was hiding away from the white-haired menace, he overheard the elders whispering.

“Five elements? At his age?”

“He reshaped the terrain, that’s not just cursed energy control. That’s innate technique, class, and precision.”

“The Ashborns… we might need an alliance.”

“Or surveillance.”

Cale sighed as he sipped from a tiny porcelain teacup that was too small for his dignity.

He had been planning on living a quiet life.

He had been five.

Now he was a foreign heir with overwhelming cursed techniques, a reputation, and a tiny Gojo-shaped barnacle clinging to his metaphorical boat.

Just what is becoming of his quiet life?

That evening was the same as usual, with Gojo barging in his room and marking territory by running around like a madman. The attendants with him could only look worriedly at their charge.

It was an hour later that Gojo seemed to have finally decided to calm down and sit beside the unbothered red head.

Gojo stared at him for a moment before huffing. They stayed like that, staring at the stars in silence.

“You’re not going to disappear after two weeks, right?” Gojo quietly asked as he leaned against his shoulder like a content cat.

Cale blinked at the sudden question before glancing down with a brow raised.

“Do you even like people this much normally?”

“I don’t know,” Gojo said honestly. “But you feel like fun. Also, you sparkle.”

“I do not—”

Gojo cut him off with a tut.

“You sparkle spiritually. Like you’ve seen a lot. Like a grumpy uncle who’s stuck in a kid's body.”

At that, Cale paused. That... might’ve been the most accurate summary of his existence yet.

“Just admit it,” Gojo said, grinning as he took the red head's silence as agreement. “We’re gonna be friends forever.”

“No,” Cale said instantly, snapping up from his daze.

However, Gojo simply beamed at him.

“Yes.”

And Cale didn't have the energy to even retort to that.

(Or does he?)

Their last night in Japan arrived far too soon for Gojo’s taste, and far too late for Cale’s sanity.

The Ashborns had wrapped up their business. Their hotel rooms were being packed. Everything was in order.

Except, of course, for Gojo Satoru.

“I’m coming with you,” Gojo declared boldly at dinner.

Cale, who didn’t even look up from his soup, replied dryly.

“No, you’re not.”

“Why not?”

“You’re five, have a family, and delusions.”

Gojo pouted at the response, only to smile mischievously a moment later.

“You’re mean. I like it.”

And Cale simply continued to sip his soup nonchalantly, “I know.”

Cale's parents, who have been observing the two bicker, could only smile fondly. They were so glad that their recluse son finally have someone he could call at friend. Their trip to Japan has yielded something far more valuable than the alliance of their countries.

Coughing to mask his amusement, Lord Ashborn turned his attention to his son, however, the upturn of his lips cannot be hidden.

“The boy’s attached to you, son.”

Cale's eye twitched in feigned annoyance as he turned his head to respond.

“He's like a barnacle with infinite cursed energy.”

"Hey!"

His mother, Lady Ashborn, smiled as she interjected before the two could start bickering again.

“You two get along wonderfully.”

She received two varying reactions. Gojo was smiling brightly at her, while Cale was gazing at her with dead eyes.

Cale was seriously considering asking for political asylum. Somewhere far, far away from a certain white-haired chaos.

The next day, when they were ready to leave, the courtyard at Jujutsu High was oddly full. Students, teachers, even elders showed up to see the Ashborns off.

Cale blinked in confusion at the large crowd.

'Is there a need for a crowd this big?'

It was at that moment.

Gojo came sprinting down the path like a sugar-fueled hurricane.

“WAIT!!”

Cale instinctively took one step back.

Gojo skidded to a stop in front of him, cheeks red and hair a mess. He pulled something from his sleeve, a slightly lumpy, hand-made bracelet made of knotted red string and a few glass beads.

Cale stared at it for a few seconds before raising his eyes to the one offering it.

“What is this?” Cale asked flatly.

Gojo shoved it into his hand, even had the audacity to clamp it tightly with Cale's hand, making it hard for Cale to shake it off. Cale turned his head to his parents only to see them smiling at them. Seeing that he won't get any help from them, Cale gave up and held the bracelet up to his eyes to observe it.

He then opened his mouth again to ask Gojo who was bouncing on the heels of his feet.

"What is this?"

Fortunately, this time, Gojo decided to answer him.

“A friendship bracelet.”

“I don’t want—”

“It has your hair color in it.”

“That’s not a selling point—”

“And I made it with cursed energy to bind our souls together forever.”

“WHAT?!”

“I’m kidding.”

Cale stared at the smirking kid in front of him. Suddenly, he felt like he knew what Alberu always felt when dealing with him.

“…Am I allowed to hit you?”

And Gojo simply grinned in victory.

"You’ll miss me.”

Cale looked down at the bracelet, then back at Gojo’s too-bright smile.

“…Fine. But only because if I throw it away, you’ll probably feel it from across the planet and show up screaming.”

“I would, yeah.”

Cale sighed once more, before sliding the thing on his wrist, much to Gojo's obvious delight.

And finally, as the Ashborn clan left, Cale glanced back one last time.

Gojo stood waving with both hands and his eyes still shining.

“You’ll see me again!” he shouted. “We’re destined rivals! Or best friends! Or both!”

“Not happening,” Cale had muttered.

But deep down, something inside him stirred. A feeling he couldn’t quite name.

Because despite how irritating, chaotic, and loud Gojo Satoru was, he also felt familiar.

Like fate was playing a joke on him again.

And he had the distinct feeling...

That this time, he wouldn’t be able to ignore the call of destiny.

Not when a boy with limitless potential had already carved a place into his life.

And if he wore that bracelet and never took it off, you saw wrong. 

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CHAPTER END

Chapter Text

Cale von Ashborn hated the Japanese humidity.

A year later, here he is again, with heat curled against his skin like unwelcome hands.

"It clings like a pest," he muttered, lifting his traveling robe to flap it, trying and failing to cool down.

Reddish-brown eyes flicked with molten gold as the sunlight hit him. His long crimson hair, brushed until silky and tied in a low ponytail with a ribbon from his mother, fell over his shoulder like a waterfall of blood.

At six years old, he was already the most beautiful person many in both Europe and Japan had ever laid eyes on. Even when he is still clearly a child.

His features were delicate but sculpted, the type of beauty that didn’t fade with childhood but promised to intensify.

The children of the Jujutsu High compound whispered about him like he was a spirit of myth.

Foreign, powerful, and impossible to look away from.

He stood under the torii gate outside the Gojo Clan compound with his personal guards, resplendent in ash-grey robes marked with the Ashborn clan crest.

On his wrist, a red bracelet made of thread, beads, and chaotic knots, caught the light. A gift from Gojo Satoru made during last summer’s visit, forged with leftover threads of Gojo’s energy, the bracelet resonated like a stringed bond, responding to danger, distance, and moods neither boy could yet name.

It pulsed warmly, as if sensing something, someone.

Cale didn’t need to look to know who it was.

"Why are you glowing again?" Cale asked it flatly.

"Because I’m near you," came a sudden reply.

Cale didn’t turn, he just closed his eyes and exhaled long and slow sigh.

Then, as if he regained enough strength to deal with whatever he will thrust into, he turned his head slightly.

Gojo Satoru stood in the courtyard. Still white-haired, a bit too tall for his age, his usual smug grin, and walking like he owned the sky.

Cale stared at him blankly prompting Gojo to beam brightly.

"You missed me."

"I prayed for your silence," Cale replied dryly. "And the heavens ignored me."

He tried to act unaffected, but the bracelet pulsed again, this time with delight. Cale huffed as he folded his arms and turned away.

Although that clearly didn't deter Gojo as he skipped to him with a pep to his steps. He stopped in front of Cale before tilting his head, as if he discovered something tremendous.

"You’re taller," Gojo said, circling him with an interested look in his face. Cale didn't like the gleam in his eyes.

"Hair’s longer too, you look like a princess. A grumpy one at that, like a frog cursed you or something."

Cale raised a skeptical eyebrow in response.

"If I’m a princess, you’re a concubine."

That prompted Marianne, Cale’s primary guard, to snort in amusement. She had to stifle in though when Cale glanced at her with a bored look.

On the other hand, his response only made Gojo grin wider.

"Still sharp tongued, still dramatic, and still glowing."

"Why do you keep telling me I glow, when I in fact do not?"

Gojo, grin still on his face, only lilt his tone to deny it.

"You do~"

"I do not."

Their bickering continued for a while, with neither parties willing to back down.

Lord William, Cale's father, and Marianne stood a short distance away, watching the two boys with quiet amusement.

"He says he doesn't care, but he wore the bracelet all year," Marianne whispered conspirely.

"Of course he did," William replied with a smirk. "It was cursed, in more ways than one."

And Marianne couldn't agree more.

Back to the two, Gojo Satoru, who refused to take back his words huffed childishly before attempting to change the subject. He knew he couldn't win against Cale, but what he said was not wrong. So, deciding that Cale wouldn't give up, Gojo raised his head to glance at the sky.

"You’re here for a month again, r-right?"

Cale blinked at the sudden and awkward attempt at changing the subject, before deciding to play along. He is, technically, the older one between them (both in birth months and mentally).

So with a nod, Cale agreed, not without giving a snarky comment though.

"And I’m expecting daily entertainment. As you may know, my standards are high."

"Pfft, please. You’re talking to the Gojo Satoru. Of course everything would be high-class!"

Gojo placed his hands on his hips as he laughed haughtily. He even has his nose raised to the sky.

Cale smiled faintly at the childish display. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he is kind of glad to be back in this country.  

He kinda hated how easily Gojo made him forget everything heavy.

And then, as if done with his performance, Gojo suddenly tilted his head and looked past Cale toward the guards.

“Hey… where’s your mom? She didn’t come this time?”

At the reminder of her absence, Cale's smile faded for a bit.

He thought back to his mother left in their estate. On how Lady Ashborn, Avery, had coughed blood just last week. And how he had burned the cloth before anyone saw, with the promise with his mother that he wouldn't tell a soul of her condition.

He didn't want to break his promise, but he couldn't bear to see her condition worsen, so one day when he and William were dining alone, again, in the quiet dining room, he quietly spoke up and hinted to him on what he saw. It looked like his father understood, as he patted Cale's head with a sad smile on his face, whispering through the wind that everything would be alright. Because despite it all, they couldn't risk having the branch family know of the true extent of his mother's illness.

Because as much as Cale was treasured in the clan, there are still voices who whispers that it was all his fault that the Clan Head's wife frail health has deteriorated since the day he was born.

He was called a curse as much as others called him a blessing.

Cale blinked his eyes again before shaking his head to rid of his head with negative thoughts. His mother wouldn't like him being pessimistic after all.

Looking away from Gojo, Cale calmly replied, as if he was saying something casual.

“She’s resting, traveling has been hard on her lately.”

There was a pause and then a brief silence that seemed to weight more than anything.

“Oh,” Gojo had simply said. Then seeming to be thinking deeply about something, he cautiously open his mouth to inquire. “...she sick?”

At that, Cale didn’t immediately answered.

“She’s… tired. That’s all.”  

Hovering beside Cale, Crybaby's glow dimmed slightly and his wings slowed in their gentle fluttering.  

And through out this exchange, Cale didn’t meet Gojo’s eyes at all.

Gojo didn’t press for more, but he looked down at the bracelet he had made.

It was glowing faintly again.

And then, as if finally reaching a conclusion in his mind, he raised his head and quietly voiced out.

“…Tell her I said hi.”

Cale’s lips twitched at the obviously concerned voice directed at him. This child, who was only a month younger than him(physically), was displaying an amount of concern no children their age usually show. Cale snorted for a bit, before finally meeting the eyes of the white-haired boy.

As expected, those beautiful blue orbs where directed at him, still as beautiful as the day Cale first saw them. But now, they are tinged with emotions that Cale had often seen his children direct at him.

Deciding that that look doesn't suit the usually proud boy, Cale opened his mouth with a more gentler tone that before.

“She liked your last letter, you know.”

This time, it was Gojo's turn to blink at the sudden turn, but nonetheless grinned. Cale was a bit glad that the gloomy look was gone before it promptly vanished the moment Gojo opened his mouth.

“Of course she did, I have incredible penmanship.”

“You drew a stick figure version of yourself wielding a cursed donut.”

“A powerful cursed donut,” Gojo corrected, grin still in place despite the snark remark.

And Cale found himself not minding it as much as before.

That night, in the garden outside their guest quarters, Cale leaned against a tree with his eyes closed.

It was then that a flicker of wind curled around his shoulder, tickling his cheek gently.

"Finally awake?" came a teasing whisper in the breeze.

"Thief," Cale had murmured blearily, a haze of sleep still lingering in his voice.

At his acknowlegement, a small fluttering form appeared beside him, one that is barely the size of his palm. A glowing fairy with translucent wings and the ever-changing glow of twilight, embodying the Sound of the Wind, the ancient power from his past life.

"That white-haired kid, Gojo, is loud," Thief said, amusement obvious in her tone. "I like him."

"You would."

Cale had agreed, after all, wasn't it Thief who were friends with the wind elementals?

"Cheapskate thinks he’s annoying though," she added with a quiet giggle.

And as if he had heard them talking about him, which is true, a second spirit emerged. It was a flickering and fox-like flame with mischievous eyes. he curled protectively around Cale’s shoulder, giving him warmth in the cold night.

"I dislike noisy boys," Cheapskate muttered begrudgingly. "But he’s powerful, which makes him dangerous. And he's clan have a lot of money... you should use that."

"You say that about everyone."

"Am I wrong?"

Cale didn't deign that a response.

A moment later, another voice piped up beside the red head. It was a quieter one, however, the palpable concern for Cale's well-being cannot be denied.

"Cale, your pulse is elevated again..."

"Crybaby," Cale acknowleged, and immediately a gentle fairy hovered at his side, hands glowing faintly. With his usual tearful and worried face, Crybaby watched over him. He was Vitality of the Heart, and he fussed over Cale’s health more than anyone.

Cale gave a comforting smile as he patted Crybaby's head with his finger.

"I'm fine, just… anticipating something to happen again."

"Do you want me to swat him?"

A gruff voice replied instead, so Cale turned his head to its direction. It was Super Rock, a boulder-bodied beetle with limbs of shifting stone, thumped down beside him.

"No," Cale replied, before smirking as a thought came to him. "He’s still taller than me, we’ll wait until I hit a growth spurt."

Super Rock seemed to agree as he let out a laugh at his response.

"Very well."

It was at that moment.

A breeze from Thief gently swayed the leaves of the tree Cale was leaning on. And hovering by the nearest branch, was another fairy.

"The tree's talking," Glutton whispered gently, before slowly descending from her perch.

The small green fairy landed on Cale's awaiting arm with her leafy wings fluttering gently. She was the Indestructible Shield and had taken to nurturing nearby plants and trees whenever Cale didn't need her shield.

"And I'm hungry, when are we eating again, Cale?"

Cale looked at the fairy without any surprise at her words, before opening his mouth to reply dryly.

"We just ate dinner, Glutton."

"It's not too late for a mid-night snack~"

Clearly, a girl knows what she wants and will not hesitate to voice it.

Cale begrudgingly agreed for a small snack before heading to bed.

And it was then that the last of them all, from the shadows of the water basin, came a shimmer of silver-blue. A girl-shaped spirit with eyes like glaciers and a giggle that sends shivers on those who could hear it.

"He smells like ******* lightning," Crazy Kid whispered in her usual crazed tone. The Sky Eating Water, her moods change frequently, sometimes giggling, and sometimes cursing someone from their descendants to their ancestors.

"And I like his eyes. They're blue, like me."

Finally, all six fairies hovered around him. They started to appear the moment Cale manifested his cursed technique, and they haven't left his side ever since. 

The Six fairies, each a representation of Cale's ancient powers from a previous life.

Wind, Fire, Heart, Rock, Shield, and Water. They weren’t tools as much as most of his clans think. They were his family more that they ever could.

Cale had been secretly glad to have them back at his side, not that he would admit that out loud.

It was at that moment.

As if the devil himself had been summoned, Gojo Satoru appeared. His expression was nonchalant as if he didn't just slipped past the guards stationed to protect Cale, and flopped himself beside him in the grass.

"Your fairies are showing again," Gojo said calmly, acting as if what he did was perfectly normal.

And Cale, seeing this, just gave up in pointing it out. It was not worth the effort after all.

So instead, Cale tilted his head as he turned to look at the fairies who flew away the moment Gojo appeared. They were still nearby, ready to act if something were to happen.

"You noticed?"

"They usually hover around you when you're alone. I'm sad they fly away when I go near you though."

"Hm."

Cale subtly glanced at the boy beside him, doubting the truth of his words because of his expression. However, Gojo Satoru was also called a prodigy, so he did notice with the help of his Six Eyes. Immediately, he smirked as a mischievous expression was revealed on his face.

“Also, have I failed to inform you? You’re glowing again.”

However, this time, Gojo didn't receive the usual reply he always got. This time, Cale smirked back with narrowed eyes and a raised chin.

"That’s natural charm."

For a moment, Gojo was stunned into silence. He blinked a few times before the smile on his face widened impossibly further and bursted out laughing in pure glee.

Cale let him be and merely looked at him carefully. He hummed in thought waited for him to calm down, before opening his mouth to ask.

"Your cursed energy is flaring again. You’re getting those headaches still, aren’t you?"

At his words, Gojo visibly winced.

"Yeah... my eyes hurt when I look at something for too long. I can handle it, though, so don't worry."

Gojo averted his eyes, not wanting to worry the red-head beside him further. Afterall, the clan had taught him that it is not allowed to show weaknesses to anyone. But Cale is not just anyone, he is Gojo Satoru's best friend (technically, he's only friend) so this much should be okay.

Cale sighed when he noticed the other trying to downplay the pain he's enduring. And then swiftly, Cale plucked his ribbon from his hair and began twisting it together with the help of his cursed energy.

"Hm, I see," he said, without turning his head to check if the boy was even listening. "Well, this should do for now."

Gojo curiously looked at what he was doing, watching Cale skillfully maneuver the ribbon into knots. He kept quiet, interested in what Cale might be doing.

And a few minutes later, Cale finished his work. He held out his hand, even gesturing for something to be given, and finally spoke to alleviate confusion in Gojo's face at his sudden actions.

"Hand."

Gojo immediately placed his hand on Cale's without question. Seeing this Cale stared at him for a few moments before shaking his head and promptly tied the charm he had just made around Gojo’s wrist.

"I’ll make you proper glasses before I leave. You’re not supposed to use your eyes that much without channeling stabilizers."

Cale let go of his hand after explaining, and even prepared himself for the exaggerated dramatics of the white-haired boy.

However, when a beat passed and Gojo still remained silent, Cale finally turned back his head to look at Gojo.

Immediately, he was met with the sight of Gojo staring at his wrist with an indescribable look on his face. Cale blinked at the unfamiliar scene, he didn't expect that reaction.

And then finally, Gojo raised his head and quietly said to Cale.

"You’re too nice to me."

Cale huffed, times like this truly reminds Cale of Gojo's upbringing.

"I just don’t want you to explode. You’d be loud about it."

Gojo smiled at his words, he knew Cale merely expressed his worry in his own way.

And what more could he ask for?

✧✧✧

The next morning, Cale handed Gojo a slender case the moment Gojo barged into his room.

Inside lays a dark-tinted glasses with stabilizing threads woven subtly through the frame. The craftmanship was amazing for someone their age to make.

Gojo looked at the glasses with a surprised look on his face.

"You made these?"

"I promised," Cale said with a shrug of his shoulders, his voice as cool as ever. "Try them, they should ease the pressure behind your eyes."

Gojo didn't need more prompting as he immediately slipped them on.

His cursed energy steadied, as if hundreds chaotic signals aligned into clarity.

"...Cale," he said after a moment of silence, eyes wide behind the lenses as he turned his eyes in every direction, "...I can see everything, without pain."

Cale watched him spin around, a satisfied look appearing on his usually stoic face.

"Good, now you can stop whining."

Gojo finally stopped before Cale and grinned so hard his cheeks probably hurt. He held up the case, a reverent look in his now covered eyes.

"I’m keeping this forever."

Cale snorted in amusement at that. Truly, Gojo reminds him too much of his children.

"Do as you wish."

However, Gojo wasn't joking.

Because later, in the privacy of his room, he opened a small lacquered box hidden under his floorboard.

Inside are a knotted candy wrapper from Cale’s first visit, a dried sakura petal they once watched fall, and now, carefully folded, the ribbon-charm Cale used to tie his hair.

He placed the charm on top and locked the box shut.

No one would be able touch it.

Not even the strongest sorcerers.

Not on his watch.

But not all was calm.

Back home, Cale’s mother, Lady Avery, lay sick in bed, her condition worsening with each passing season. Her once fiery presence had faded to candlelight, her laughter now rare, like a secret tucked away in old books.

The Ashborn estate was quieter these days, its halls quiet with what wasn’t said.

Still, she smiled whenever she saw her son. She brushed back his hair with fingers that trembled, called him her "bright little comet," and pressed kisses to his forehead like prayers.

And whenever he was away, like this time, he wrote her letters. Pages filled with adventure and dry wit, careful omissions and affectionate lies.

He sealed each one with a pressed flower from wherever he had traveled, a tradition they had started when he was three and just learning to spell her name.

She still lived.

But her time was a soft hourglass, and the sand was running thin.

The healers called it a wasting illness.

Minor cursed techniques slowed it, but could not undo it. Every year, her strength waned like the moon after fullness.

And Cale, though too physically young for such grief, knew.

He wore another ribbon she had given him, the same color as their hair, tied around his wrist or braided into his hair depending on the day.

He treated it not as just a charm, but as a second heartbeat.

As a promise to return.

And a tether to someone whose time no longer moved like his.

✧✧✧

✧

✧

✧

✧

CHAPTER END

Chapter Text

Another year had passed, and summer returned once more.

Both boys were now seven when Cale came back to Japan again.

However, this time something new awaited.

The Zenin Clan was hosting a large inter-clan demonstration, and Cale, the heir to Ashborn, was expected to represent his family.

Cale had walked into the dueling ring with bored eyes and wind curling silently around his ankles.

Across from him stood Naoya Zenin. Naoya had recognized him immediately, making his sneer deepen with remembered humiliation.

Last time, he had underestimated the pretty foreign boy with the glowing lights. Nonetheless, this time he’d win. He had trained relentlessly for the past two years and waited for this day. He had been patient in his revenge, having to be held back by his father with the promise of a future duel.

And he is stronger than he was two years ago, he's confident that he will, without doubt, win.

"You’ll regret stepping here, outsider," Naoya said, his voice louder than necessary. 

However, the opponent before him merely tilted his head. Donning a confused expression and opening his mouth to ask in a innocent tone.

But what came out of his mouth was far from innocent.

"You’re loud, do you think that makes you interesting?" said Cale, his face now impassive, as if Naoya is not even worth his attention.

Naoya felt his anger rise at the look he usually gives to others. 

How dare this foreigner look down on him.

An so, Naoya, in a fit of blind rage, had lunged. He moved faster than he did two years ago, stronger and more refined.

But clearly it was not enough.

Because the spirits hovering around Cale weren't being idle either. The spirits danced to a song only known to them.

Most people assume that they were not sentient like what the Ashborn clan usually have.

However, Cale has always been an exception.

For these spirits, his friends... they did not to fight for Cale, but with him. They had been with him in his past life, and they continued to do so in this new one.

They were the limbs he hadn’t grown yet, and helpers that does their utmost to aid him.

And they only have one goal.

Protect Cale von Ashborn, their beloved trouble magnet red-head.

They will stop at nothing to achieve that.

Instantly, Glutton pulsed with a glimmer.

Bam!

The blow didn’t land.

And if you thought it was over, you got a lot coming.

Because it was that moment that Thief whispered to the wind, Cheapskate sparked lighting, Super Rock braced for the earth, Crybaby glowed in a gentle light, and Crazy Kid rippled the water around them.

Naoya faltered at the display, caught in a swirl of nature's force. The spirits danced around Cale in perfect coordination.

However, in the next moment, it was truly revealed that he was part of one of the Three Great Sorcerer Clans. Because despite his sudden awe at the spirits might, he was able to quickly compose himself and lauch another attack.

Admittedly, Naoya was fast.

Faster than any child his age should be, in fact. It seems he was telling the truth when he said he began training just for this day.

It was commendable, really. However, there was only one problem.

He picked the wrong opponent.

Because Cale, despite his reluctance to physically move, was faster still.

Before Naoya's strike could land, a gust of wind curled up from the ground and twisted around Cale’s form and lifted him just slightly off his feet.

The Sound of the Wind, Thief, laughed in his ear and time seemed to slow.

Cale moved like falling starlight, graceful and deliberate in his actions as he weaved through every attack of the greenette.

He ducked under Naoya’s arm, tapped his foot into the younger boy’s side, and sent him stumbling with nothing more than wind-aided precision.

Immediately, Naoya snarled. A hint of embarassment appearing on his face. He couldn't believe he was outmaneuvered just like that.

“Stop hiding behind tricks!”

Cale, on the other hand, had merely looked at him with his usual calm expression. But his eyes as he looked at the boy in front of him almost looked bored.

Naoya's rage was already reaching its peak only truly lost it the moment the red-head opened his mouth.

"Tricks?" Cale said, his expression then turning innocent as he tilted his head.

"You mean skill?"

It was the last blow.

Naoya didn’t wait.

Expression red from anger, he slammed his cursed energy into his next attack, a blast meant to knock Cale flat to the ground.

But Cale didn’t even raise a hand.

"Glutton," he murmured quietly.

The grass beneath him pulsed green.

Vines surged up like living armor, another version of the Indestructible Shield, wrapping around the cursed energy and swallowing it whole.

Naoya’s eyes widened in horror.

It was then that Cale stepped forward causing the wind to shift again. Fire flared at his feet, burning just enough to singe Naoya’s path and trip him.

“You rely on force,” Cale said, voice still cool and steady, and not a sweat on him since the duel began. "But you never learned restraint."

With twitching brows, Naoya once again shouted and threw a punch.
This time, Cale caught it with one hand.

And then—

Thump

Super Rock dropped like a boulder from above, the weight of stone condensing over Cale’s back like armor.

With the enhanced strength of Super Rock, Cale twisted Naoya’s arm just enough to slam him into the mat.

He did not put too much strength as he did not want to injure Naoya much.

Because as much as people here forget, Naoya is still a 6 year old child.

So he slammed him, just to end this idiotic event.

Naoya groaned as he lay pinned beneath him. His face was so red that he was shaking in anger and humiliation.

Cale leaned down.

"Next time," he whispered quietly to his ear. "try to be less boring. You barely have been able to use your technique, what did you think would happen?"

At his words, Naoya immediately stopped resisting. His eyes were teary as he clenched his fists and bit his lip. He turned his head away with a hmph.

On the other side of the field, silence stretched across the watching clans.

It was then that someone clapped and broke the tense atmosphere.

Gojo Satoru, perched on a fencepost, was beaming like the sun. His grin was wide and his eyes were shining brightly as he shouted with a woop.

“That’s my best friend!”

On the other hand, the subject of everyone's stares, merely stood with an impassive expression, and brushed invisible dust from his sleeve.

Naoya didn’t immediately get up. He layed there with his head down, still shaking with suppressed fury.

The elders nodded their heads, clearly the Ashborn heir had made his point.

Cale walked off the ring gracefully, his spirits trailing behind him in a silent orbit.

Gojo met him halfway, grinning so hard it hurts to even look at.

"You were awesome!”

“I was efficient,” Cale immediately corrected.

“You flipped him like a pancake.”

“I used gravity and momentum.”

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m glowing.”

“…I’m keeping you forever.”

“…Excuse me?”

Gojo cackled, not even giving a response before sprinting ahead in a dash.

Cale watched him go in resignation, that guy is still so full of energy. There's no way Cale will be chasing him.

Instead he reached up to touch his mother’s ribbon in his hair and felt it flutter gently with his fingertips.

'Still watching me, Mother?'

Toji Zenin arrived that evening, his steps silent as a shadow, and slipped into the training grounds like a ghost.

Cale noticed him immediately.

Not because Toji made a sound, because he didn’t. Not because he introduced himself, he wouldn’t.

But because every spirit around Cale stilled in alarm.

Vitality fluttered nervously, Cheapskate crackled once before dimming, and Glutton fluttered to his shoulders and pressed close with a tense look.

Toji, on the other hand, said nothing.

He just stood across the courtyard, the dusk bleeding gold into the horizon behind him, and his figure framed like a silhouette carved from quiet violence.

His gaze swept across the field, stopping on Cale, on the ribbon tied around his wrist, and on the six hovering spirits that protectively circled around him.

“You’re not normal,” Toji finally said, his voice low and flat as he voiced out his verdict.

Cale tilted his head, his eyes never leaving Toji's form and watched him warily.

“Neither are you.”

Toji’s expression didn’t change at his words, instead he opened his mouth to retort dryly.

“Unlike you, I’m a failure.”

“I’ve heard,” Cale replied evenly before folding his arms across his chest. The sorcerers here haven't been particularly quiet on that.

However, Cale only had one thought despite hearing it.

“But I don’t care about what they say.”

Because now that he's facing the man, he did not understand how the Zenins could now see the strength hiding beneath his skin.

Silence stretched between the two. 

Toji stared confusedly at Cale, who remained standing with his arms crossed, as if he just uttered something natural.

And then finally, after what seemed like eternity, he opened his mouth.

“…You’re strange.”

Cale smirked as if he was waiting and immediately retorted.

“You’re interesting,” Cale replied. “You look like someone who left his future behind.”

That got something.

Not quite surprise, but the faintest shift in Toji’s jaw, as if the words had pressed somewhere old and bruised.

And what happened next came in a blur.

They sparred only once.

There was no words and no rules exchanged. Because instinctively, they knew it was not needed. 

Cale's cursed energy crackled faintly in the air before having the spirits hover back and just watched.

They were apprehensive about it, but followed his request regardless.

Their fight was fast, sharp, and brutal in its honesty. Neither of them holding back enough to be polite and neither cruel enough to aim to kill.

And after many exchanges of blows, it ended with both of them in bruises and respect for their opponent bubbling in their eyes.

Toji stood, a cut along his cheek, and was breathing only slightly heavy that he was before.

Cale, with his hair a mess and one arm throbbing in ache, he kept quiet about it as he smirked in response.

Because he recognized something familiar in the way Toji moved like a man already halfway dead.

“I’ll remember you,” Toji muttered, his eyes landing on the blood gathered on his fingertip. However, his voice and expression held no malice for the red-head.

“You better,” Cale had replied. “I remember everyone worth knowing.”

And he wasn't joking.

Because Record would truly make him forget if he didn't want to remember.

Toji nodded once, his expression unreadable but something in his gaze made Glutton flutter closer to Cale

And then, in softer and barely audible voice, Cale continued his words.

“Still… I hope I won’t have to remember you with regret.”

Toji didn’t answer.

He just turned and walked away, and disappeared as quietly as he had arrived.

Cale watched him go. 

He watched until the last trace of Toji vanished.

Because he knew that people like Toji never stayed away for long.

And he would be here waiting, because in Cale's eyes, all he sees is a teenager lost in the cruel world of the adults.

That night same night, with his bruises bow healed by a crying Crybaby, Cale and Gojo sat shoulder to shoulder on the tiled roof of the compound.

The night air was cooler now with the oppressive heat of the day replaced by a hush that felt almost sacred.

Gojo tilted his head back, his pale hair gleaming under the moonlight.

“I’m gonna be the strongest,” he said, his voice calm but fierce with certainty.

And Cale, for once, didn’t argue.

“I know.”

“I'm not going to be one because the elders told me I will.”

Cale turned his head. Gojo was staring at the sky with the most determined expression a seven year old could muster. His eyes went softer as he agreed.

Then suddenly, Gojo turned to him with a curious expression on his face as they made eye contact.

“What about you?”

Cale looked at him straight ahead, his eyes reflecting the starlight like molten gold.

“I’m already too much,” he murmured quietly. "I don’t need to become a storm."

He looked up at the night sky, where the stars burned steady.  

"I already burned the rain."

Gojo laughed softly at him, finding amusement at his choice of poetic words.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re the one who calls me a princess.”

“You said I was a concubine.”

“An insult I now take back,” Cale replied with an exaggerated sigh. “You’d bring dishonor to any royal house.”

Gojo laughed again, but it was quieter this time. The kind of laugh that trembled at the edges.

And then, suddenly, he blurted out.

“You’re my best friend.”

Cale’s eyes flicked back to him.

“You’ve said that already.”

“I mean it,” Gojo said, the smile vanishing from his face. He truly was serious about it.

For a moment, silence reigned.

Cale stared at his eyes. Gojo was trying to hide it, but he is years too young to hide something from him. He could see the hidden hope for his agreement and the fear of rejection.

Cale sighed internally.

After all, Gojo is currently seven. It is only natural for him to feel such.

And so, Cale smiled before reaching out to ruffle his hair.

“I know,” Cale finally replied.

Gojo beamed at him before tackling him in a tight embrace.

"You agreed! No takebackies!"

Cale sighed in defeat. Lamenting about his future as he binded his fate to the white-haired menace.

Still, he couldn't help but smile as he looped their pinkies together.

"No takebackies."

✧✧✧

✧

✧

✧

✧

CHAPTER END

Chapter Text

The first time Cale von Ashborn met Zenin Toji, he had walked away with a black eye, an aching arm, and an amused smirk.

Toji had left with a cracked rib, a cut on his cheek, and the closest thing he’d had to respect in years.

It was the beginning of something strange.

The Ashborn Clan, after years of constant staying in hotels, now owned an estate in Kyoto.

Every summer, Cale's family (including his mother if she is well enough to travel) returned to Japan for diplomatic visits, cultural exchanges, and elemental realignment ceremonies with the local ley lines.

Cale, however, had again started to associate summers with something else entirely.

At first it was a white-haired menace who seemed to be in a sugar rush whenever they meet. 

Then it all changed one night when he was seven years old. The night he suddenly sparred with a troubled teen.

Toji.

It all began with something simple.

After their spar, Toji just... showed up the next summer.

There was no invitation, and no announcement.

He just materialized at the estate gates, leaned against the stone pillar like he was meant to be there, and chewed on a popsicle as he glared at the trees.

"You're bleeding," Cale had said flatly.

Not even questioning why the older(physically) was just standing there.

Toji, on the other hand, merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Today's Zenin training day. Thought I’d return the favor."

Cale hummed at his response before turning around to walk back inside.

And Toji had followed, as if it was natural.

That summer, it became a pattern.

"And then the head of the clan looked me in the eye and said, 'Be grateful we tolerate your existence.'"

Toji's voice dripped venom as he paced back and forth along the porch. Cale had sat nearby, fingers idly stroking the long curling vine Glutton grew and wrapped around his wrist.

"So?" Cale said, his voice steady as he calmly watched Toji pace around. "Are you?"

Toji paused mid-stride, turning towards the seven year old in confusion.

"Am I what?"

"Grateful."

At that, Toji let out a sharp bark of laughter. However, there was something mad and hollow about it that made Cale narrow his eyes slightly.

"Hell no. I’m counting the days until I can punch one of them through a wall."

"Violence is not a sustainable coping mechanism."

"That sounds like something a therapist would say."

"How fortunate for you, then," Cale murmured dryly as sipped his tea, and perched on his shoulder Crybaby hummed whilst emitting a faint glow.

"You seem to have acquired one."

Toji rolled his eyes at his words but didn’t deny it.

They didn’t talk about how Toji’s visits grew longer every day during summer.

"Why do you put up with it?" Cale had asked one evening, the Kyoto twilight casting golden light across the stones. Thief whispered nearby, circling the roof tiles like a breeze playing tag.

Toji remained silent as he stared at the koi pond. He kept his mouth shut for a while, and watched the fishes gracefully glide through the water.

Cale didn't rush him for an answer, he merely sat beside him and waited as they both watched the fishes.

And then finally, Toji opened his mouth.

"...put up with what?"

"The Zenins."

Immediately, Toji’s jaw tightened.

"Because I have nowhere else to go."

"You have legs. Use them."

"It’s not that simple."

"It is," Cale said, his voice even as he didn't even look at Toji who turned his head at him. "Then leave."

Toji went silent, a myriad of emotions fleeting on his face. Once again, he didn't respond for a while.

"You make it sound easy," Toji said finally, his voice quieter than it had ever been.

"No," Cale corrected instantly, his eyes glowing faintly from the afternoon sun. "I make it sound necessary. There’s a difference."

That was the first time Toji didn’t leave with anger still hidden in his eyes.

Instead, he looked contemplative.

As if finally, he was understanding things he didn't dare think of before.

And then one night, a few days since his last visit, Toji sat on the steps with arms over his knees and stared at the stars above.

But he didn't seem to be looking at them. 

Cale didn't interrupt his thoughts, instead he sat beside him and was idly fixing the snacks he had brought.

Suddenly, after sitting in silence for an hour, Toji opened his mouth.

"You’re not from here. You don’t get it."

It was sudden, but Cale was not flustered. Instead, he nodded his head in agreement.

"That is true, I’m not Japanese. But I understand family, and what it can do to someone."

Toji turned his head to look at him. Surprise and confusion coloring his eyes as he gazed at this gifted child who seemed to have everything there is to want.

But it seems he was too biased in that thought.

Realizing this, Toji opened his mouth to whisper quietly. As if he was admitting to something he didn't openly admit to anyone else.

"...you hate your family too?"

And again, Cale nodded his head without hesitation.

"Some of them," Cale admitted, his voice hard with suppressed emotions. "Others I chose for myself."

Toji stared at him.

He then remembered that Cale was supposed to be only seven this year. For him to be this adept in concealing his emotions, whatever had he gone through growing up?

He had thought that he would be like the brats in his clan, spoiled rotten with opulence and extravagance, and the sweet lies fed to them by their elders. He had thought that despite how trained Cale may be, the naivete and immaturity of his age would surely show.

Oh how he was sorely mistaken.

Truly, the world of sorcerers have no mercy for anyone.

So instead, he decided not to delve deeper. Like what Cale is doing for him right now, he would not push him and would wait for Cale himself to open up.

Afterall, in this f*cked up world, having allies(friends) to rely on was something Toji realized makes everything bearable.

And so, with his signature smirk finally back on his face, Toji opened his mouth to respond.

"Must be nice."

Cale, again, nodded his head in agreement, causing Toji to let out a small snicker.

"It is. That’s why I’m recommending it."

Toji had scoffed at him. But his shoulders had noticibly eased.

The night continued on, with the two forming a bond as they bickered and taunted one another.

Of course, with this new development, Gojo had noticed.

Of course he did.

It was the third day of the new year's summer and Toji had just finished a long session of pacing and grumbling about clan politics while Cale trimmed the new bonsai in his room, and with Glutton helping guide the roots and leaves with a gentle song.

Gojo had dropped in dramatically and floated upside-down outside Cale’s window.

How he done it was something Cale wouldn't like to know.

"CALE~!"

Cale, impressively, didn't so much as flinch.

Instead, the voice that came out of him was resigned and so so done.

"You’ll fall."

"I am falling for you. This is betrayal of the highest order!"

Cale sighed before placing down his tool. He walked towards the window and opened it wider before stepping aside to let him through.

Gojo tumbled in, his clothes a mess, and his hair wild and windblown.

Immediately, he started prattling his complaints to Cale who stared at him with calm eyes.

"My best friend, giving personal porch therapy to a Zenin? And I thought we had something special. Did you know how my heart is broken to soooo many pieces??"

Toji, to his credit, merely watched the whole spectacle with quiet amusement.

He had heard about the Gojo brat, but he didn't expect him to have such a personality. He had heard his face was always as still as a doll, and barely reacted to anything, but this kid infront of him was the opposite.

Wildly swinging his arms as he continued his theatrics, Gojo even slumped on the couch and dramatically cried.

It was only when he was mentioned that he finally decided to join them.

Toji leaned against the doorframe, one of his eyebrows raised, and even crossed his arms across his chest.

"He gives good advice. And he's obviously way better than you."

Gojo sniffed, patted his eyes with a handkerchief, for more effect, before standing up with a flourish.

"I’m charming, but I will not deny what you said because it's true."

"Glad to know that you have some shame."

"Well, at least I'm not a nineteen year old trauma dumping on someone eleven years younger than them."

The two had a stare off, prompting Cale to clear his throat to catch their attention.

He didn't want any fights in his room afterall.

"Must I separate you both?"

And unexpectedly, both of them immediately answered together.

"Yes," they chorused. "Stop copying me!"

Cale sighed as he watched the two continue their bickering. So with a flick of his fingers, Super Rock appeared and gave a gentle but, firm push that knocked Toji and Gojo put of the window and into a bush down below

They were both blinking their, a dumbfounded expression on their faces as they watched Cale close his window with a thud.

Gojo and Toji then turned to each other before bursting into snickers.

"That's fair." Gojo wheezed as he stood up, Toji followed after with a smirk as he brushed the leaves off his clothes. 

"Sure did. Truce?"

"Ugh, fineeee."

Toji began calling in the middle of the year.

Once, after midnight, when Cale finally fell asleep, his phone rang. Blearily, he reached for it and was about to cancel when he noticed the name.

So after a moment of thought, he clicked 'Accept'.

Immediately, a familiar voice started as if he was waiting.

"They gave my room to someone else. Like I was never born."

Cale sat up on his bed, causing Crybaby to glow drowsily near his pillow. He patted him to signal it was alright and guide him back to sleep, as he spoke slowly.

"...then let yourself be reborn."

The silence lingered, before the call was ended as suddenly as it came.

Cale stared at the screen for a few seconds before deciding to continue his sleep. Toji would call back if he needs him.

On another time, it was midday.

"Do curses ever talk to you?"

"Hm, rarely but yes. They usually try to talk to me whenever I encountered them, but I tell them to wait their turn."

Toji had snorted at his words.

"You're so weird."

"And yet you keep calling me. What does that say about you?"

"That I’m desperate."

"Or that you trust me."

Toji didn’t reply at that.

But he called again.

One summer evening, just before the solstice, Toji sat with Cale beneath the shrine trees. Cheapstake flickered nearby, sparks dancing from his fingertips into the ground.

"I’m thinking of leaving," Toji had said casually.

Cale, obviously, didn’t react at his sudden words.

Toji raised his eyes to stare at the starless sky, his fingers curled into the grass in a tight grasped.

"The clan, the name. Everything. I just... I want out."

Cale had looked at him then, his eyes the usual steady and calm. And that brought Toji more reassurances than words could ever.

"Then leave."

"It’s not—"

"Yes, it is. Hard, yes. But simple. You want to go, so go."

Again, Toji let the silence fall.

The wind blew between them, and at the side, Crazy Kid froze a droplet midair before it hit the stone.

And then finally, Toji opened his mouth again.

"What if I regret it?"

In response, Cale stared at him as he spoke in a firm voice.

"You won’t."

Toji let out a breath he didn't even realized he was holding. He chuckled weakly as he swept up his hair, and his voice quiet as spoke again.

"You’re so damn sure."

Cale nodded his head. This time, it was his turn to stare at the sky.

"I’ve seen your heart. It’s tired of bleeding for them."

Toji had closed his eyes. Cale's words had hit deeper than he expected.

Perhaps, Cale was right. Perhaps, in his quest to show everyone in the clan that he was strong, he forgot to care for himself.

Perhaps, he too, was internally seeking the approval he was denied to the moment he was born.

"Thanks."

"Don’t thank me. Just don’t look back."

Later that same week, Gojo found them again. His arms were crossed as he tried, and failed, to appear intimidating.

"You’re not running off with him, right?"

Cale arched a brow at him. Now what absurd thoughts are in this kid's mind?

"Who, Toji?"

"Yes, Toji, the weapon enthusiast, the sullen stalker. Him."

Cale blinked at him, before sighing as he rubbed his suddenly aching temples.

"From what I know, he’s not even interested in men. And I'm nine."

Gojo had flushed, embarrassed at being found out so quickly.

"I’m just checking."

It was then that Toji, who’d been eavesdropping, finally stepped out from behind a tree.

There was a shit eating grin on his face as he walked towards the two.

"You jealous or just territorial?"

Gojo flailed his arms in denial, his face still have a red tint from his earlier stunt.

"I’m concerned!"

"Then be quiet about it."

Gojo was about to open his mouth to retort when a cup of tea was thrusted to his face.

It was Cale, who had his arms raised in both of their directions, and had a blank expression on him.

"Fight later, be civil for now."

The two obediently sat at the mat and drank Cale's personally brewed tea.

Angering Cale because they didn't listen was something they did not want to experience again. 

That summer ended differently.

Toji didn’t just walk away from the estate. He walked away from the clan.

He brought all the things that mattered to him, which was laughably so few that it made him feel strange.

He visited Cale's estate to say his goodbye, only to be smothered with hugs, well wishes, and a black card of all things from Cale's parents when they heard from him that he finally left the clan (not that he was complaining, he was just shocked is all).

In the years that went by as he kept visiting Cale, his relationship with the Ashborns grew which helped him realize a lot of things.

On how parents should treat their child.

On how a leader should act.

And just how wrong the Zenins were with their misogynistic view in everything.

Cale let them be, and only stepped forward after his mother was done patting Toji's hair.

He didn't really do anything special. He just gave him a pair of glasses. 

Toji looked at him in confusion, because as far as he knows, he's vision was a perfect 20/20. And Cale knows this too, so why?

Fortunately, Cale opened his mouth to explain.

"It's not much but, I suppose those would help you see... the curses now. I wouldn't want to find you dead because you didn't have your guard up, you see? That would be so troublesome to deal with."

He averted his eyes as he continued explaining what the glasses could do, causing Toji to stare at him in astonishment.

"You made this... so I could see them now?"

At that, Cale snorted.

"Well yeah. You could throw it away if you don't like it, I wouldn't care either way."

Toji chuckled amusedly at his words, before opening the case and wearing it.

Instantly, faint cursed energy appeared to what was a previously empty space. Toji has his eyes wide as he looked around. This was the first time he was able to know what cursed energy even looks like.

Finally, his eyes landed to Cale. And somehow, there as this warm tingling in the back of his eyes, so intense that he had to do his utmost to suppress it.

"Thank you... Cale. Truly."

Cale huffed at him before opening his arms wide. Toji didn't hesitate, he crouched low and enveloped Cale to a tight but not crushing hug.

They did not say goodbye in the end.

Because, they both know that they would meet again, one way or another.

And when Toji called the next spring, with his voice now steadier and freer, he said in a tone he hadn't used before.

"I’m not done being a mess. But I’m not their mess anymore."

Cale smiled in response, staring at the sky as he held his phone to his ear.

"Good."

And somewhere in the background, Gojo muttered with a pout of his lips.

"Still emotional cheating, though."

Cale promptly ignored him, causing his pout to be more pronounced.

Toji had laughed. It seemed he too heard what Gojo had said.

And finally life, for once, felt like it was becoming something worth choosing.

Even for them.

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CHAPTER END

Chapter Text

The morning sun poured like molten gold through the tall glass windows of the Ashborn estate, gilding every polished surface and gleaming off the intricate elemental sigils carved into the marble floors.

The servants had been up since dawn, hanging pale red and silver ribbons across the main hall and filling the air with the aroma of rose cakes, sugared fruits, and rare teas imported from Japan.

From all of these efforts, it could be gleaned that today was no ordinary day.

And indeed it was.

As it is the day the heir of the Ashborn clan turned thirteen.

The manor hummed with quiet anticipation with elemental fairies darting about like playful little lights. Glutton weaving vines into delicate garlands, Crybaby scattering dew into shimmering droplets, and Thief mischievously stealing pastries off the trays before Cale could even arrive.

It was supposed to be a stately and formal event, or well, at least that was what his parents had planned.

But of course, with Satoru Gojo around, “formal” was never in the cards.

“CALEEEE~! YOUR FAVORITE PERSON IS HERE!”

Naturally, Cale’s only response was an unimpressed stare.

The boy had shown up uninvited (or so he dramatically claimed every few minutes when in truth, Lady Avery had sent him a personal invitation days in advance, months even). Gojo had flown all the way from Japan to England, much to the amusement of the house servants who had to deal with his energy the moment he arrived.

Cale sighed, already tired at the thought of spending the next few days with the Albino, though a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“You’re early.”

“I’m enthusiastic,” Gojo corrected proudly, kicking off his shoes before following Cale into the hall. “Happy birthday, my ever-serious best friend. May your patience for me continue to grow alongside your beauty!”

Crybaby giggled faintly from where he was perched behind Cale’s shoulder.

“He’s got the patience of a saint already,” the elemental whispered.

“Unfortunately,” Cale muttered under his breath.

Anyways, despite the chaos brought by the boy, the celebration flowed easily.

The Ashborn elders attended the formal banquet at noon, offering blessings and sigil gifts meant to enhance Cale’s control over his ever-growing elemental affinity. And every now and then, he’d catch glimpses of Gojo sneaking more desserts than socially acceptable, shamelessly hiding behind Glutton’s vines for cover.

Then finally as the afternoon waned and the moon made its way up, Cale slipped away to the garden, seeking quiet solace from all the energy in the hall.

And it was there his phone buzzed. Cale took it out to glance at, though the name on the screen made him pause. He hit accept after a moment’s pause.

“Toji?”

The call connected before he could even greet him.

“Happy birthday, kid,” Toji’s familiar rough voice came through, though it is now obviously tinged with warmth. In the background, faint laughter and a baby’s babble filtered through.

“Megumi and Amane says hi too! Isn’t that right, buddy?”

Toji and his little family had been invited, though they couldn’t attend due to his wife’s, Amane’s, fragile health and their infant son needing care.

“Tell them I said thank you,” he replied, now warmth tugging at his lips too.

“Gotcha.”

At his reply, Cale couldn’t help but laugh softly as he leaned back against the old oak tree.

“You sound domestic, I’m almost concerned.”

“Yeah, well,” Toji started casually that Cale could practically hear the shrug. “Guess I had to grow up sometime.”

His voice was steadier than Cale had remembered, but the undercurrent of exhaustion was still there. It was a softer one now, though. Born not from rage, but from sleepless nights and gentle burdens.

Cale closed his eyes, letting Thief gently ruffle his hair.

“You missed the party,” he teased. “Gojo’s been talking everyone’s ears off in your place.”

“Good,” Toji grunted half-heartedly. “Means I did the world a favor by staying home.”

There was silence before the sound of Megumi squealing came again, followed by Toji’s low chuckle.

Cale’s chest ached unexpectedly at the sound. It was different now, and he was so glad of that.

“He sounds happy,” he murmured softly.

“He is,” Toji replied, his voice softening. “He’s a handful, I tell ya. Got my attitude and all that, and her smile. Guess I deserved that, didn’t realize how much I’ve been.”

They both smirked at that.

“I still can’t believe you’re married,” Cale continued with a shake of his head, disbelief furrowing his brows. “And a father too. I’m still recovering from that phone call, by the way.”

The memory of that day came easily.

It had been late one evening, two years ago, when Toji’s gruff voice had broken through static on the line.

“Cale, I’m getting married.”

Cale had blinked blankly at the phone. The sleepiness was disappearing from his form. He thought he was hallucinating and heard wrong. Because there was no way, right?

“…What?”

“And I’m gonna be a dad.”

There had been a long stunned silence, with Cale merely staring at the phone in disbelief. It took his usually sharp mind a while to digest the unbelievable news.

And when he did, he exploded.

“What the hell, Toji?! You’re barely twenty-two!”

“Relax,” Toji had said casually, laughing under his breath. Though, there is a hint of nervousness in his tone. “It’s not contagious.”

“Do you even know how to hold a baby?”

“Probably not.”

Cale had groaned into his pillow, wanting to scream and bash the head of this oaf.

“You absolute disaster.”

And he had nagged him, mercilessly.

Cale had spent the next two hours giving him the scolding of a lifetime, demanding to know when, how, and why. And the next few hours after that ranting about responsibility, health, names, and how he’d better not drop the child on its head.

Gojo, of course, was laughing in the background the entire time(it was a sleepover) and had overheard the entire conversation. He kept insisting they both attend Toji’s wedding “to make sure he doesn’t bail halfway through” between his breaths.

And on the day of the wedding a few months later, Cale had watched Toji exchange vows with a quiet and smiling woman named Amane. There had been no grandeur and sorcery, but it was more real than the ones he had attended as the Ashborn Heir before.

It was a little strange, he would quietly admit. Seeing the once-lost Zenin heir standing beneath the fluorescent lights and smiling for real at the woman that was his wife.

Cale had felt something tight in his chest loosen that day.

And then when Megumi was born, they(Gojo and him) were with him the entire time his wife was in labour. He was such a nervous wreck that Gojo didn’t even have the heart to tease him.

“Congratulations,” Cale had said softly.

And Toji, for once, had sounded uncertain as he held the newborn babe.

“He won’t stop crying. Think I broke him.”

“Give him here,” Cale hummed.

Toji had grumbled but obliged. And to everyone’s shock, the baby had stopped crying the moment Cale took him, his little fingers curling around the bracelet at Cale’s wrist.

And somehow after that, Cale had ended up as Megumi’s godfather at the ripe age of eleven.

Gojo had wanted to be one too, but the baby cried every time he held him and only stopped when Cale took over. The smug look Cale gave him afterward had been burned into Gojo’s memory ever since.

From that day onward, Megumi cried every time Gojo tried to hold him. And Gojo wouldn’t be Gojo if he didn’t take it personally.

“I think he just doesn’t like your face,” Cale had said mildly.

“My beautiful face?” Gojo had gasped, an offended look appearing on his face. “Impossible, he’s clearly jealous of moi.”

“He’s a baby.”

“Exactly, he recognizes greatness early.”

Toji had only muttered sarcastically then, “He recognizes what to avoid when he sees it,” before handing Megumi back to Cale.

Now, years later, as Cale listened to Megumi’s babbling through the phone, the memory brought a quiet smile to his lips.

“You’re doing well,” Cale said softly. “She’s lucky to have you.”

“Nah,” Toji murmured in a low voice. “I’m lucky she’s still putting up with me.”

And he believes that wholeheartedly, he has even taken on his wife’s surname and now goes by Fushiguro Toji.

Cale had teased him about it endlessly.

The silence that followed was comfortable.

Cale could almost picture him sitting on the porch, a baby balanced in one arm, cigarette smoke curling lazily into the autumn air.

However.

It was at that moment.

Gojo’s voice suddenly rang from behind Cale, interrupting the quiet thoughts in his mind.

“Are you seriously taking calls from him on your birthday?”

Cale turned to find Gojo balancing a tray of cake slices in one hand and a glass of juice in the other with a mock of offense painted across his face.

“He’s wishing me well,” Cale replied evenly, unfazed by his dramatics due to years of knowing his antics.

And then, as if to prove his thoughts true, Gojo wiped away his expression before leaning closer, clearly trying to listen in.

“Is that Megumi I hear? You tell that tiny traitor he owes me a smile.”

Toji’s laugh timely echoed faintly through the phone.

“Tell Gojo to stay away from my kid.”

“I’ll take that as a challenge!” Gojo declared proudly.

“Please don’t,” Cale muttered tiredly, ending the call before Gojo could make it worse.

He pocketed his phone and gave Gojo a long-suffering look.

“You’re at it again.”

“I just don’t like sharing my best friend with emotionally constipated assassins and his spawn,” Gojo huffed indignantly, glaring dramatically at him.

Cale arched an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Megumi’s a baby.”

Gojo’s indignation lasted all of three seconds before dissolving into laughter as he averted his eyes and whistled away.

“You're unbelievable.”

Cale shook his head, not even bothering anymore.

Now, hours later, the grand banquet was still well underway.

Lord and Lady Ashborn made their appearance to thank everyone for attending. Lady Avery, though radiant as ever, looked pale beneath her makeup. When she retired early due to her health, she kept apologizing to Cale, who only smiled and assured her that he didn’t mind. In truth, he was far more worried about her than anything else.

Once his parents were gone, Cale’s expression softened just for a moment before quickly going away, but Gojo caught it.

Without warning, Gojo grabbed Cale’s hand.

“C’mon!” he grinned boyishly.

“Where–”

“Presents!”

And just like that, Cale was dragged toward the mountain of gifts piled beside the grand table. Gojo threw open ribbons and paper like an excitable child, narrating dramatically as if he was unveiling treasures.

“Behold! The ultimate chocolate truffle collection! Specially imported from France!” he declared proudly, before lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Okay, fine, I may have eaten one or two… or five.”

Cale sighed but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Thank you, I try my best,” Gojo said with a wink, then striking a ridiculous pose that earned him an eye roll.

This went on for several minutes, with Gojo juggling candies, pretending to faint dramatically when Cale didn’t laugh, and sneaking bites of sweets when he thought no one was looking.

And bit by bit, Cale’s mood lifted.

The tension that had weighed on his shoulders since his mother’s departure began to ease.

Seeing that, Gojo grinned like a child who’d just succeeded in a secret mission. It was then that his blue eyes lit up with a new idea.

“Hey! I’ll get us some more cake. Be right back!” he chirped before dashing off toward the dessert table.

Cale could only shake his head in amusement.

‘Of course, this kid will go straight to the sweets.’

For a few quiet moments, he stood alone, letting the sounds of the banquet fade into the background. The laughter, the chatter, and the soft clinking of crystal glasses blended into a hum that wrapped around him like background music.

It was then that a calm older voice broke through the noise.

“My, if it isn’t our beloved Ashborn Heir. Happy birthday, Young Master Cale.”

Cale turned toward the speaker only to see that standing a few steps away was Yoshikawa Dai, the current head of Japan’s Jujutsu Headquarters.

Cale bowed his head politely yet gracefully.

“Hello, Yoshikawa-sama. Thank you for going out of your way to attend this one’s humble celebration.”

The old man chuckled, pleased by his manners. They exchanged light conversation for a few minutes before Yoshikawa leaned closer with his tone dropping in a low whisper.

“Say, Young Master,” he started, “if there were a way for someone ailing with an incurable disease to be cured… what would you do?”

That caused Cale to freeze, the words hitting deeper than he expected. Though he recovered quickly, his mind raced.

‘What is he implying?’

Still, his face remained calm, and his expression perfectly neutral and unreadable.

Yoshikawa studied him for a moment before chuckling softly.

“Never mind me, it’s just this old man rambling…”

However, before he could turn away, Cale replied quietly, “If there is, wouldn’t that be a wonderful thing?”

A brief silence hung between them before Yoshikawa smiled knowingly.

“Indeed.”

He straightened his back and shifted topics, at least, on the surface. The walls have ears afterall.

“Tell me, Young Master, do you know Shoda Minori?”

“The Principal of Tokyo Jujutsu High?” Cale asked with a curious tilt of his head. “Yes, I’ve had the honor of exchanging pleasantries.”

“Ah,” Yoshikawa hummed nodding, his eyes sharp with something unspoken. “Lately, that man’s been lamenting the lack of young sorcerers. Kept blabbering he might go bald from the stress of it all.”

Cale merely smiled faintly at his words, refraining from showing any reaction.

He could tell there was more behind the words, it was a subtle message disguised as small talk. And he was right, as eventually, Yoshikawa patted him on the shoulder and left to greet another guest, leaving Cale standing there with his thoughts spinning and running a mile a minute.

He understood perfectly what the old man was hinting at. And he knew from his memories of the original story that a certain gifted healer would appear at Tokyo Jujutsu High in a few years’ time.

There was much he didn’t know about the manga, he merely listened to his subordinates’ chatter after all. Still, he knew about her.

Shoko Ieiri.

He’d tried to find her before, but based on the results of the investigation, she was still under the Headquarters’ protection, isolated on one of their private islands. There wasn’t much he could do for now, so he planned to wait when Gojo becomes classmates with her.

At least, that had been his plan.

That was until Yoshikawa said that.

‘This changes things…’

Finally, a quiet almost mischievous smile curved his lips.

And it was at that moment that Gojo returned, balancing two plates of cake with icing smeared across his cheek.

“What’re you smiling at?” he asked suspiciously as he handed Cale a plate. “Wait… were you talking to that old guy again? I told you, he’s shady! Old fogie energy! Not like me, who’s clearly young and handsome–”

“Toru,” Cale interrupted dryly, before continuing when the albino shut his mouth. “What do you think about enrolling at Tokyo Jujutsu High when we turn fifteen?”

Gojo blinked at that, his spoon halfway through another bite.

“Huh? That’s random.”

“Well?”

Gojo swallowed before shrugging, his cheeky grin returning.

“I don’t really care where I go. But if you’re there, well… that’s a different story.”

Cale smirked at that, warmth flickering in his chest despite himself.

“Then it’s settled.”

Gojo's grin grew wider, then raised his fork for a toast.

“To our future as jujutsu sorcerers!”

Cale sighed, amused, but clinked his fork against Gojo’s anyway.

The two of them stood there, one with icing on his face, and the other with a faint knowing smile, as laughter echoed softly around them.

And for that brief moment, his plans and schemes felt far away.

For now, there was only warmth, and cake, and the promise of tomorrow.

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CHAPTER END