Tokyo—Jujutsu High Common Room

The television played some mindless variety show, the kind of background noise that filled comfortable silences without demanding attention. Y/N Gojo sat curled on the sofa, a drink in hand, watching with mild amusement as her student struggled with the cursed corpse bear in his lap.

Yuji Itadori held the stuffed creature at arm's length, his face scrunched in concentration, cursed energy flowing through him in careful, controlled waves. The bear—one of Principal Yaga's training tools—twitched and jerked, its stubby arms swinging occasionally in response to fluctuations in Yuji's energy control.

"Stay calm," Yuji muttered to himself, sweat beading on his forehead. "Steady flow. No spikes. Just smooth and—"

The bear's paw shot out and punched him square in the nose.

"OW! Dammit!"

Y/N laughed—a genuine, delighted sound that filled the room. She leaned back against the sofa cushions, her white hair catching the afternoon light, her Six Eyes shimmering with amusement behind her casual expression.

"You're getting better," she said, taking a sip of her drink. "Two weeks ago, that bear would have punched you three times by now."

"That's not as encouraging as you think it is, sensei," Yuji grumbled, resetting his grip on the cursed corpse and trying again.

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the TV providing background noise, the bear occasionally twitching but not attacking.

Then Yuji spoke, his voice carefully casual in that way that meant he'd been thinking about this question for a while: "Are you going back to U.A.?"

The bear immediately punched him again.

"AGH! Why?!"

"Emotional fluctuation," Y/N explained, still smiling. "Your cursed energy spiked when you asked that question. You're worried about something—probably about me leaving again."

She shifted on the sofa, bringing one leg up to rest against her chest, her drink balanced perfectly in her hand. "Yes, I'm going back. But not until Monday. This weekend, I'm staying here to train you in controlling your cursed energy." Her smile widened with genuine pride. "And you're actually doing a great job at it, Yuji. Better than I expected, honestly."

"Really?" Yuji's face lit up with that characteristic earnestness that made him so endearing.

"Really," Y/N confirmed. She stood, stretching slightly, and reached out to pat his head affectionately. "You're a natural. Strong cursed energy reserves, good instincts, and most importantly—you don't overthink it like some students I could name."

Looking at you, Megumi, she thought with fondness for her ward.

"I'm going to grab some food," she announced, heading toward the door. "Keep practicing. If you can hold that bear steady for ten minutes without it punching you, I'll teach you a proper technique this afternoon."

"Yes, sensei!" Yuji called after her, immediately refocusing on the cursed corpse with renewed determination.

Y/N stepped into the hallway, the familiar corridors of Jujutsu High wrapping around her like a comfortable blanket. This place—despite all the pain, all the memories, all the ghosts that walked these halls—was still home in a way U.A. hadn't quite become yet.

Maybe because this is where I grew up, she mused, heading toward the vending machines at the end of the corridor. Where I learned what I was. What I could do. Where Suguru and I were—

She stopped short.

At the vending machines, two figures stood talking in low voices. One was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in an immaculate tan suit with his signature spotted tie—Nanami Kento, ever professional even on his day off. The other was taller still, with long dark hair pulled back, dressed in casual robes that somehow looked elegant—

Geto Suguru.

The real Geto Suguru.

Not Kenjaku wearing his corpse like a stolen coat. Not the twisted version who'd fallen to darkness and genocide. But Suguru—her Suguru—alive, breathing, whole.

Y/N's smile formed automatically, but beneath it was a complicated tangle of emotions she'd been carefully not examining. It was still strange, seeing him like this. After years of grief. After fighting Kenjaku. After finally putting that nightmare to rest.

They look too much alike, she thought, her Six Eyes unconsciously comparing this Suguru to memories of the curse that had worn his face. Same height. Same hair. Same way of standing. But the eyes are different. Kenjaku's eyes were wrong. Dead. These eyes are...

Alive. Warm. Looking at her with recognition and affection that was real, not performed.

Geto noticed her first, his face breaking into a closed-eye smile as he waved. "Y/N! Taking a break from torturing your student?"

"It's called training, Suguru," Y/N replied, her smile becoming more genuine as she approached. "Some of us actually teach instead of just looking mysterious and wise."

Nanami bowed his head in greeting, his expression as neutral as ever but with a hint of warmth in his eyes. "Gojo-san. Good to see you back in Tokyo, even if briefly."

"Nanami," Y/N greeted with genuine fondness. "Still wearing that suit like it's armor? You know you're allowed to relax occasionally, right?"

"This is me relaxed," Nanami replied with perfect seriousness, and Y/N couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

Geto chuckled, leaning against the vending machine with casual grace. "So, how's Yuji's training going? I heard quite a bit of yelping from the common room earlier."

"That's the sound of progress," Y/N said, fishing coins from her pocket and feeding them into the machine. "He's doing great, actually. Very receptive student. I wouldn't want anyone else learning from me right now."

She selected a coffee—black, strong, the kind that would keep her alert for the rest of the training session—and another sweet drink for Yuji as a reward if he managed the ten-minute challenge.

"High praise from you," Nanami observed. "You don't usually take students so directly."

"Yeah, well," Y/N shrugged, retrieving her drinks from the machine. "Yuji's special. Plus, Sukuna's in there, which makes things interesting. Can't exactly hand him off to just anyone."

Geto's expression shifted slightly, becoming more serious. "Speaking of interesting—are you going to the party this weekend?"

Y/N blinked. "Party?"

"Nobara's throwing it," Geto explained, his closed-eye smile returning. "This Saturday. She's invited the whole faculty and all the first-years. Something about 'building team cohesion' and 'proper social development,' but I think she just wants an excuse to show off her apartment and force everyone to have fun."

"That sounds exactly like Nobara," Y/N said with a laugh. "Bold of her to invite the faculty, though. Doesn't she know what happens when you get a bunch of jujutsu sorcerers drunk in an enclosed space?"

"Chaos," Nanami said flatly. "That's what happens. Which is why I've already prepared three separate exit strategies and a valid excuse to leave early."

"Oh, come on, Nanami!" Geto protested, slinging an arm around the stoic sorcerer's shoulders—a gesture Nanami tolerated with visible resignation. "It'll be fun! When's the last time we all just... hung out? Without curses or missions or the weight of the world on our shoulders?"

"Never," Nanami replied. "That's never happened. Because we're jujutsu sorcerers. The weight of the world is literally our job description."

"Exactly why we need a party!" Geto turned his attention back to Y/N, his expression almost pleading. "You're coming, right? Please tell me you're coming. If I have to deal with Gojo Satoru's ego all night without backup, I might actually commit a crime."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Satoru's going?"

"He threatened to show up in his most obnoxious outfit and teach the first-years drinking games if we didn't formally invite him," Geto said with the long-suffering tone of someone who'd dealt with this exact situation before. "So yes. He's going. Which means I need allies. Specifically, you."

Y/N considered this, taking a sip of her coffee. A party. With her jujutsu colleagues and students. A chance to actually relax, to be around people who understood this side of her life—the cursed energy, the ancient techniques, the weight of being a god among sorcerers.

But I was planning to spend the weekend training, she thought. Getting Yuji ready. Preparing for whatever comes next. And I need to get back to U.A. on Monday. My hero students need me too.

She looked at Geto's hopeful expression, at Nanami's carefully neutral face that somehow conveyed "please come so I'm not suffering alone," and felt something in her chest soften.

"Alright," she said, and Geto's face lit up like a child on Christmas. "I'll come. But—" she held up a finger, "—I'm not staying late. I've got training with Yuji on Sunday, and I need to be back at U.A. Monday morning."

"That's fine!" Geto said immediately. "Just having you there will be enough. Plus, you can help me keep Satoru from doing something that gets us all cursed by angry civilians."

"That's a full-time job," Y/N pointed out.

"Which is why I need you," Geto replied with that charming smile that had gotten him out of trouble their entire lives.

Nanami checked his watch—a precise, expensive piece that probably cost more than most people's monthly rent. "I should go. Paperwork won't file itself, unfortunately." He bowed to both of them. "Gojo-san. Geto-san. I'll see you at the party. Briefly. Very briefly."

"Bring wine!" Geto called after him as he walked away. "Good wine! None of that cheap stuff!"

"I'll bring what I bring," Nanami's voice echoed back, and Y/N could hear the smile in it despite his professional tone.

Left alone with Geto, Y/N felt the atmosphere shift slightly. The easy banter faded, replaced by something more weighted. More significant.

"You okay?" Geto asked quietly, his closed-eye smile gone, replaced by genuine concern. "I know seeing me is still... complicated. After everything with Kenjaku."

Y/N was quiet for a moment, her fingers wrapped around her coffee can, her Six Eyes distant.

"It's getting easier," she admitted finally. "At first, every time I looked at you, all I could see was... him. The curse wearing your face. Using your voice. Perverting everything you stood for." She looked up, meeting his eyes directly. "But you're not him. You're Suguru. My Suguru. The person who knows me better than almost anyone. And I'm grateful—so grateful—that I got you back. The real you."

Geto's expression softened, something almost vulnerable crossing his features. "I'm grateful too. That you didn't give up on me. That you fought to save me, even when everyone said it was impossible."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of history and friendship and shared trauma hanging between them.

Then Geto's closed-eye smile returned. "So. Party. Saturday. You, me, trying to keep Satoru from teaching first-years curse words. Just like old times."

"Just like old times," Y/N agreed, and this time her smile was entirely genuine.

She turned to head back to the common room, her drinks in hand, but paused. "Hey, Suguru?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're here. That you're alive. That I get to have this—annoying conversations about parties and training students and normal friend things. I don't say it enough, but... thank you. For being here."

Geto's smile widened, and there was moisture in his eyes that he blinked away quickly. "Always, Y/N. I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."

"Good," Y/N said firmly. Then, lighter: "Now go do whatever mysterious Geto things you do when you're not bothering me. I have a student to train."

She walked away, her footsteps light against the floor, leaving Geto alone in the hallway.

He watched her go, his expression complicated—affection, concern, and something that looked like determination.

She's spreading herself too thin, he thought. Between Jujutsu High and U.A. Between her students here and her students there. Between being a god and trying to be human.

Something's going to break. I just hope it's not her.

But he kept those thoughts to himself and headed toward his own duties, already planning how to make Saturday's party something that would help Y/N relax, if only for a few hours.

Back in the common room, Y/N found Yuji still focused on the cursed corpse bear, his cursed energy flowing more smoothly now, the bear sitting peacefully in his lap.

"Five minutes without a punch!" Yuji announced proudly when he saw her.

"Excellent," Y/N praised, handing him the sweet drink. "Keep that up for five more minutes, and we'll start on your first proper technique. I'm thinking something simple but effective—maybe Divergent Fist enhancement."

"Really?! That sounds awesome!" Yuji's cursed energy spiked with excitement—

The bear punched him.

"FOCUS, Yuji!"

Y/N laughed, settling back onto the sofa with her coffee, and felt something in her chest ease.

This is good, she thought. Being here. Training. Having friends who know what I am. Having two worlds—jujutsu and hero—that both need me.

I can balance this. I can be enough for both.

I have to be.

The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, painting the common room in warm light.

Y/N Gojo sat with her student, teaching and protecting and being present.

For now, that was enough.

The party would come Saturday.

U.A. would come Monday.

And whatever challenges lay ahead—whatever villains plotted, whatever darkness gathered—she would face them.

Because she was the strongest.

And the strongest didn't break.

They bent.

They adapted.

They endured.

Even when it hurt.

Especially when it hurt.

The training continued.

The world kept spinning.

And Y/N Gojo stood at the center of it all, holding together two worlds with nothing but willpower and the stubborn refusal to let anyone down.

I can do this, she told herself.

I have to.

They're all counting on me.

The bear stayed still for the full ten minutes.

Yuji cheered.

And Y/N smiled, pushing away the exhaustion that never quite left anymore, and began teaching her student the first steps toward true strength.

One technique at a time.

One moment at a time.

One day at a time.

Until she couldn't anymore.

But that day wasn't today.

Today, she was still standing.

And that was enough.