Gojo no Isanko has always held a long and sordid list of grievances regarding Jujutsu society. Everything from the authority of the clans and the weight placed on tradition all the way down to the minutia of how a Sorcerer is expected to fulfil their duties.
He can admit to himself that a large portion of his grievances—or at least the intensity in which he has held them—have been rooted in the treatment he has received throughout his life.
It would be madness to expect a child to respect a society that has done nothing but mock and degrade him.
So in a way, his life is flowing on an upward wind. Every life has its positives and negatives, yet in recent days, Isanko is finding that the negatives in his life are looking all the more like positives, only adding to his life.
Despite having only recently settled into his role as the Provincial Governor of Echizen, Isanko is finding the position full of positives.
For one, he has no authority that he must defer to beyond the Emperor himself. As Governor, he is the one who may decide the rule of Echizen. It is immensely freeing to be able to simply make his own decisions and have that be the end of it.
Additionally, as he has founded his own clan, he is currently the only member of the new Gojo Clan's main branch. He has naturally brought some servants and branch family with him from the Sugawara Clan. Mostly those of lower status whom the clan treated poorly.
Like himself.
Even better than having the authority to govern as he sees fit, the feeling of not having any clan Elders breathing down his neck or judging him is wonderful. A true weight off of his shoulders.
Beyond his enjoyment of the company, or lack thereof, he has even found himself pleased with the Province of Echizen as a whole. It is a beautiful land, and he has enjoyed reading and learning of both its history and its present-day status.
Isanko has never had the need to learn such things before. His lessons have always been regarding Jujutsu and little else beyond the basics.
He is finding that he enjoys learning these things, yet even that enjoyment is tinted by the bitter reminder that he never would have had the chance to discover this interest of his if he had remained a Sugawara.
Yet another thing that his birth clan stole from him.
The negatives to his new position mostly lay in the realm of diplomacy. Which is to say that his birth clan despise him and nearly every clan close to them are not fond of him as a result.
Realistically, this is simply bad for him. It will make his governance more difficult should he have too many enemies.
However.
Isanko believes that it is worth it for the simple reason that he delights in hearing their complaints and demands and knowing that they are helpless to truly force him into compliance. It is an intoxicating feeling, and he has to force himself not to send mocking and insulting letters to every Noble House around him.
It would be satisfying, but he has a healthy enough fear of Shiki to not go through with it.
Not to mention, Isanko has long resolved to bear any humiliation necessary and give up on his own life for the sake of his descendants.
One day, a Gojo will be born with his Limitless Technique who will be able to control it in truth. Whether that be because they are also born with his grandfather's eyes or not, it will happen. When that day comes, the Gojo name will finally ascend beyond reproach, and Isanko's shame will be washed away by a an honour greater than even the Sugawara Clan's pedigree.
That is all or the future though. In order to secure that future, he must first secure the present, which brings his thoughts back to Echizen.
An interesting location. One of the oldest provinces, though not nearly what it used to be.
Originally a piece of the much larger Koshi Province, with the twenty-sixth Emperor being a former King of Koshi, Echizen came about in the first year of Taihō, when the Koshi Province was split into three distinct municipalities; Echizen, Etchū, and Echigo.
Since then, four of Echizen's northern districts were separated in order to form the Noto Province in the second year of Yōrō. Then again in the thirteenth year of Kōnin, not even a full century later, the two eastern districts were separated into the Kaga Province.
Only then does one get the current Echizen Province.
Isanko finds it oddly fascinating, learning all of this. He also finds it somewhat humbling to see how this Province remains so influential despite how much it has been cut apart over the centuries.
Echizen is enduring, and Isanko finds that admirable.
More presently relevant, the previous Governor of this Province was none other than Fujiwara no Tametoki. A man mostly known to the regular Nobility as being the personal tutor to the previous Emperor but better known to Sorcerers like Isanko as the man who would father Murasaki Shikibu.
As a Sorcerer, there is something almost... religious to knowing that the land he now governs is what Murasaki Shikibu once called home—even if by all records she hardly spent more than two years within the Province.
Still, it is a fact that fills him with a swelling mixture of pride and determination to not dishonour the memory of a Sorcerer so strong that few are even willing to speak of her. Not to mention that she is the one woman to have ever disregarded Isanko's grandfather.
Such things were before his time, so Isanko did not have the pleasure of witnessing the event himself, but the accounting he has heard is that whatever was discussed between Michizane and Murasaki left his grandfather so filled with wroth that his displeasure remained visible to all for weeks to come.
In Isanko's mind, the simple thought is that anyone who could induce so much anger and humiliation within the hearts of his birth clan's Elders is someone that he holds in incredibly high regard.
Regardless of his personal respect to the woman, the previous governor before her father was a man by the name of Oe no Masamune. As it happens, Oe no Masamune is the father to Izumi Shikibu, who is not only one of Grand Empress Dowager Shōshi's most trusted handmaidens, but also the mother of Koshikibu no Naishi.
Koshikibu no Naishi, who has now taken the name Nanami no Shiki.
Isanko has chosen not to pry into the details of whatever fracture has developed in that relationship between mother and daughter—he certainly has no foot to stand on in that subject—so he does not know the details. All he knows is that Shiki refuses to talk to her mother, yet despite that, Lady Izumi was still willing to use her father's position and her Lady's support to grant Shiki the right to determine Echizen's governor.
As per their agreement, Shiki named him governor and in return he has adopted the Nanami clan as a cadet branch to his own.
Their desires are roughly aligned in life after all. Kindred spirits, one could say. So it was not difficult for them to ally with one another.
...Even if she does still scare him somewhat.
Regardless, everything seems to be working out well enough for them.
Echizen is a very important Province, serving as both a major port for trade with the western nations and as a strategic buffer between the northern provinces, which chafe under the rule of the Imperial Family, and the central Provinces. Additionally, Echizen sits as a major gateway through the nation via the main road that travels the entire Hokurikudō circuit.
Beyond just the locational importance, Echizen is also a major manufacturer of high quality paper and pottery, providing streams of revenue beyond the expected of being portside.
All in all, Isanko is enjoying himself to such an extend that he finds it weird. His entire life has been so stifling and full of shame that he almost doesn't know what to do now that he exists beyond such limitations.
He has started smiling for no reason at all. Just at entirely random times, he has caught himself smiling even when there has been nothing to smile about.
It is odd.
Isanko doesn't mind this oddness.
He feels free.
A sudden slam! jolts Isanko from his thoughts with such force that he nearly falls to the floor, only managing to catch himself with a startled curse of, "Kami!"
As the surprise wears off, Isanko turns to glare at the front of his office, where Shiki stands in the open door with a barely noticeable smug look on her largely indifferent face.
"Must you do that?" Isanko asks, exasperated and annoyed in equal measure. "Have I insulted you somehow?"
"No." Shiki's voice is largely without inflection. It's only through the many conversations they have had of late that he can hear the quiet amusement within it. "You jump funny when startled. Like a rabbit."
Isanko discovered fairly early that he hates her sense of humour. At least when it is directed at him anyway.
A sigh leaves him as Shiki drops into the seat opposite him. Technically, she should have asked or waited to be given permission to sit since he outranks her twice over, first as governor and then again as the head of the Gojo Clan.
However, one would have to unfathomablyretarded to not understand that the power balance between them is firmly in her favour. So he says nothing.
Though in truth, he would hardly care even without her being who she is.
Isanko is a man who despises tradition and authority, after all.
"What can I do for you, Shiki-san?"
She wouldn't be here if she didn't have a reason to be. It is not that they do not meet regularly, just that today is not such a day and Shiki does not do spontaneous visits.
Not here anyway.
After all, what Shiki wants more than anything else is simply to be left alone. To live a quiet and peaceful life as she chooses to live it. Similarly, Isanko wants to be left alone so that he can experiment with his Technique and leave a proper inheritance for his descendants without having to worry about his line being ended prematurely.
This is the core of their relationship and how they could so easily agree to work together. With her power and his blood—for even Isanko remains well connected through the realm, no matter his birth clan's distain—they can do together what they could not do alone.
Which is to isolate themselves from the realm without having to worry about the realm forcing them into activity.
So Shiki prefers not to see him here, in the heart of the Province's governance. She prefers they meet on the shore, by the simple home she has built for herself, hidden away from the world.
Isanko doesn't blame her, in truth. He cannot imagine how awful it must be to live around others when one is only able to see people as corpses. He'd want to be isolated too.
Cursed Eyes may provide great benefits, but never let it be forgotten that they are Curses before anything else.
"We need more influence."
Isanko raises a brow at her as his hands idly smooth the papers his earlier startling left in disarray.
"I do not share your conclusion," Isanko replies, more curious than anything. "Elaborate?"
"Echizen needs to be more stable."
Isanko squeezes the bone between his eyes and sighs at her typical vagary. He knows that she is just playing with him, but he does wish she would take these matters at least a little bit more seriously.
Well, he knows that she does take them seriously. She just also likes to tease him at the same time.
"Between the two of us, Echizen is very stable. I see few issues, and of those issues, I see none that cannot be solved with relative ease."
Shiki nods, and he is relieved to see a minute change in her demeanour that he knows to mean she will stop being purposefully annoying.
He doesn't like how good he's gotten at reading her.
"In normal times," she begins, more solemn than usual, "You would be correct. Echizen is in a good position, politically, economically, strategically. There is much leverage to be had through this land, and with neither of us having the ambition to reach for heights beyond what is already ours, the odds that the next century would be anything but peaceful would be slim."
Isanko nods along with her words, knowing them to be true and somewhat dreading the obviously incoming flip side.
"However, this is not normal times. I..." Here, he sees Shiki hesitate in a way that he hasn't seen of her before. It's rare for her to show much emotion at all, least of all this... uncertainty. It's unnerving. "...Am unsure what exactly is coming, Isanko-kun, but something is coming. We have been born into a Golden Age of Sorcery, but nothing good lasts forever. Mark my words, Isanko. There is a storm brewing. I can see... Death." Shiki's vice dips low enough for a moment that he almost doesn't hear it, "So much Death."
Isanko feels a shiver run down his spine at her words, made all the worse because they are coming from her.
"Can you tell me more?" He honestly isn't even sure if he wants her to, but he does feel a touch relieved when she shakes her head no.
"I cannot see any details," Her voice remains solemn as she shakes her head, frustration writ on her features. "I am not Kiyohara; I only know that there is much Death on the horizon. If Echizen is to remain stable in the chaos to come, we need greater influence. Enough to weather the storm."
Isanko nods again. "I presume that you have a plan?" He asks. She wouldn't bring it up otherwise.
"I do," Shiki confirms. "The position of Jujutsu Inspector General still has not been filled since your grandfather's demise."
All of a sudden, Isanko's dread disappears in place of an eager delight as he leans forward, fully and entirely onboard with whatever it is Shiki is planning.
"Tell me what you need!" Isanko declares, with perhaps too much energy. Shiki sends him an amused look but he doesn't feel an ounce of shame. "Having a hand in promoting Michizane's replacement will surely tweak at the noses of the Elders back home. I can already imagine how they will grind their teeth dull."
"And having influence over the Inspector General will be good for Echizen," Shiki adds, bemused.
Isanko waves her off with a chuckle, "That too. Do you have someone in mind?"
Shiki nods again, allowing him his simple happiness.
"Originally, the position likely would have fallen to a Kamo. Kamo no Yasunori most likely, both for his strength and vast web of connections. However, with how close that Kamo has gotten with your Juniors, there is no chance that the Clans will vote for him. Ordinarily, that would make it likely for a Fujiwara to gain the position, considering the ancient rivalry between those families. However, should I lean on the right people and you call in the right favours, I believe we can push Minamoto no Tsunemoto into the position instead."
"Yorimitsu's grandfather?" Isanko asks, curious about the choice, though understanding that there aren't exactly a plethora of options fit for the position.
Shiki nods. "Yorimitsu and Yorinobu are both considered traitors to the Minamoto clan, serving the Regent instead. The Fujiwara clan is close with the Sugawara clan, or what remains of it anyway, so the Minamoto will be happy to stand alongside you if only to enrage the Sugawara so that they will waste the Fujiwara's time with their complaints. Additionally, Yorimitsu's prowess as a Sorcerer is a great source of shame on the Minamoto due to his betrayal, so they would be more than happy to stand alongside me, as I am one of the few Sorcerers alive to whom Yorimitsu's power means nothing. They will likely want to rub my name in his and his master's face."
Isanko can easily see that. He finds it somewhat amusing that behind all the tradition and courtly manners, the Nobles of the Realm are still petty curs in the end. It disgusts him, it truly does.
"Minamoto no Tsunemoto makes a good choice because his clan will be willing to stand beside us and because he is smart enough that he will know that the position would have been outside of his reach without our influence. Plus, he is suited for the role, of course. Can't forget that."
Isanko huffs an amused breath at the mocking in Shiki's tone when she stresses the importance of the man being capable of doing the job.
Competence is, after all, a major deciding factor behind political postings.
The thought has him smiling and scowling in equal measure as his mind all but spits his true thoughts out.
What a joke.
///
???
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With a branch hooked under her knees, a young woman dangles upside-down within the upper brush of an unremarkable tree. The sole sack she wears for clothing falls with the position, exposing her nakedness up to her budding breasts as they hold the cloth from falling any further over her head.
Despite this exposure, the girl does not make any attempt to cover herself either for modesty or comfort, as if the thought of doing so is simply absent from her.
Below her, the girl's sister sits curled up on a different branch, her back to the trunk and knees to her chin. Even further below them sits their home; that same straw pyramid that they can now barely fit inside even after curling against one another in a tangle of limbs.
A short distance afield from their home sits the rest of the village, unaware of their presence within the leaves and branches. The distance is great enough that the girl knows normal people wouldn't be able to hear conversation. She can, though.
Her and her sister, freaks who can hear spoken words even over such distances.
She watches them live their upside-down lives with a dispassionate gaze, listening to them as they speak of some woman called Inoue. She doesn't really know who that is, but apparently she's important because she haunted the Emperor or something.
The girl tries to pay closer attention, but she struggles to. She has started feeling... uncomfortable in recent days and it is distracting. Ever since she realised that she and her sister were going to grow breasts like the other girls do, she's noticed something else too. It's in the way that some of the men of the village look at her. It's... changed.
She doesn't know why or what the change means, but... she's noticed it. She noticed it not too long after she ate those wolves she thought were dogs—a memory that plagues her without end, making the world seem so much worse by mere comparison. Their eyes look at her differently and she doesn't know why; she just knows that their new eyes makes her... uncomfortable.
She's not sure if it's normal or not. She assumes it is; that the way normal people look at freaks changes at a certain age or something. That's the only explanation that makes sense yet no matter how many times she thinks it, their gazes never cause her less unease.
Especially when those new eyes turn to her sister. In those moments, she feels this unnatural... intensity overcome her. Like some force is pulling her limbs in every direction, leaving her unable to move but full of motion.
She doesn't get it.
"Hey, Nee-chan?"
The girl's gaze falls away from the village and upon her sister, finding the slightly smaller girl looking up at her with eyes full of vulnerable hesitation.
"What?" Her voice is as soft and quiet as her sisters is, just stronger.
"Can I tell you something?" The girl almost rolls her eyes at the question. As if there is a need to ask.
"Of course."
The girl's sister takes her time to speak again, eyes flitting between meeting her own and staring at the grass below them.
"Promise you won't be mad?"
The girl's eyes narrow slightly at that. She has never been mad at her sister. Not once. She doesn't think that will ever change. Annoyed? Maybe. But mad? Never.
"I promise."
Another silence looms between them. Her cowardly sister—that she still loves with all the heart that she knows to give—once more hesitating to speak her thoughts, as if afraid of the sound her words will make.
The girl almost starts to think that her sister isn't going to finish the thought. It wouldn't be the first time she has seen her sister set upon a course of action only to give up half way through and curl in on herself like a turtle.
But the silence does end; her sister finding what meagre courage she required to speak one single sentence. When she does speak, her words come out near as one, tangling together in a mad rush as if she is admitting some great secret and needs to get it out as fast as possible before she can change her mind.
"It's scary when they hit me."
Her words come out like a confession full of shame and the girl feels a pang of irritation. All this production and it's just that? Her cowardly sister admitting to her cowardice as if it weren't obvious?
She immediately hates how that irritation colours her tone—however faintly—with snap.
"It's normal."
The moment the words leave her, her sister's head turns down as if to study the distant ground below, and the girl doesn't know what to do.
She didn't mean to upset her sister, to snap at her with that tone. It's just really started to grate. Just a little bit. Her sister's constant cowardice. Always afraid, always hesitating, always meek.
It annoys her. Why can't her sister just understand? Everything that happens is normal. Sure, some of it hurts and sure, sometimes she wakes up with this gnawing pit in her stomach and the memory of wolf meat filling it up and this desperation to just eat something.
...But so what?
There's no point complaining about things that they can't change. That'd be like complaining when it's too hot or complaining that they don't have any blankets during the winter.
It just is what it is. Complaining about it is stupid. It makes no sense and maybe that's the part that frustrates her the most.
She just doesn't understand why her sister doesn't understand what is so obvious to her. Everyone says the same stuff. It's only her sister that doesn't seem to understand.
But maybe, just maybe, there is some deeply suppressed part of her that wants to understand. Some part of her that agrees with all of those complaints.
She strangles that thought in its infancy every time it surfaces, unwilling to confront what it might mean. She just... She can't think about it.
Because if normal is wrong, then what has she been doing her entire life?
So she doesn't let the thought surface. She knows the world she lives in and she has accepted that. Change means something is happening that isn't normal, and that makes change bad.
As the silence between them begins to grow oppressive, the girl searches her mind for something to say, anything to improve her sister's mood. Nothing comes to mind—she's never been taught how to comfort others and the only experience she has hearing comforting words was from so long ago that she doesn't even remember the face of the man who said them.
She doesn't know what words lift spirits. The only sentences coming to mind are those that she has overheard others telling their children. The girl dismisses all of those words out of hand because they are words meant to comfort normal people. She doesn't think she'd be allowed to say them.
As the silence grows harder and harder to bear, the girl finds herself blurting out a sentence without thought, just a panicked reflex to end the uncomfortable silence.
"I get scared too." The words hang in the air like an admission of guilt and the girl cannot bring herself to meet her sister's eyes. She hadn't meant to say that—wouldn't have if she'd have spoken with thought.
She's spent so long trying to pretend that it isn't true, knowing that it's wrong and feeling so ashamed to harbour these doubts but... now that she has said it out loud, she can't pretend it's a lie. Not to her sister.
Still hanging from a branch by the backs of her knees, the girl's eyes turn to the village she calls home. She watches a man absently chew on a stick of dried fish on his way to the fields. She watches the other kids gathered into a huddle, laughing together as they snack on rice dumplings.
"Everyone..." The girl begins, her voice trailing of slightly in hesitance. A part of her wants to cringe as her stomach flares up with a pain—a need that she has long stopped reacting to. She swallows and starts again, unsure if sharing this will even help her sister feel better but weirdly wanting to say it anyway. "Everyone else has so much."
Her words hang in their air for a moment as she watches one the boys drop a dumpling and simply kick it away into the trees with a laugh echoed by the others. She doesn't know what the feeling she feels witnessing that is, she has no name for it; but in her mind's eye, the girl can oh so easily imagine ripping those legs off of his body.
"It scares me," the girl admits again to her sister, voice quiet as if afraid of being heard, or perhaps hoping to be ignored. "They have so much and I wanna have some too. I wanna taste it too... I get scared that I'll never have as much as they do."
Another silence follows her admission and the girl feels the burgeonings of a flush creeping up her flesh. More by anxiety—another emotion the girl does not know to name beyond how it makes her act thoughtlessly—than anything else, the girl's head twitches back to her sister and it stays there as she freezes in shock at what she sees reflected back at her.
When was the last time her sister had looked so eager? The expression doesn't last as the girl's attention causes her sister to pull back as if caught doing something that she shouldn't. Though, the girl can make out that her sister's smile remains even as she turns back to staring at the ground below.
Did she say the right thing after all? The girl wonders to herself, pleased to see her sister's mood improved even if the smile is only a fleeting thing.
Smiles never last long, that much is normal. She's just happy that it was there at all.
"That doesn't scare me," the girl's sister states after a moment. "For me... When they hit me... it makes me wanna hit 'em back." There is a relief there, as if the admission is enough to remove a weight she had been carrying. In that relief, it takes another moment for the girl's sister to reveal her truth as honestly as she had a moment earlier. "I get scared of what will happen if I ever did."
The girl nods her head and silence soon regains its place between them. Only, this time it is the usual silence that they share. Comforting in its simplicity.
There's not really anything else to say, but it's... nice.
Yes. It feels nice.
Like she understands her sister better now, and like her sister understands her better as well.
It's good to understand the things you care about.
Absently, the girl's attention returns to the village and she half listens to what sounds the wind brings to her ears, less interested in listening, more just too comfortable to bother ignoring anything. At least, until she hears something that distinctly catches her attention.
One of the mothers is arguing with Old Kei because one of her children stole his hunting bow. That part, the girl easily ignores. In fact, the context of the conversation is entirely unimportant to her.
No, all that the girl hears is one line and one line alone. Spoken by the mother to excuse her son's actions; an argument that Old Kei accepts without any more complaint than a huff that doesn't even try to counter-argue.
"It ss only normal for the youth to get into mischief."
And that? That is an interesting thing to learn.
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A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!
Finally, next chapter we'll be getting back into some action. These chapters have basically been like a mix between epilogue/prologue between the first major arc and the second. So the halcyon days shall be starting properly from next chap, which means that there is gonna be a lot of time passing again finally.
Like, the time from narauko leaving home to nuking a random forest is about 6 months. This arc will (maybe) probably be shorter (maybe) but should takes us through the next two and a half years in universe (I wonder why that number exactly~ -_-)
Also, I already wanted half of this chapter to be the twins part, and when I was wondering what to do with the other half I read someone make a comment wondering what gojo and shiki were up to, so here we have it.
They just tryna fuck off frfr. Let them have some peace. It's like a game of thrones character just going to the Summer Isles and retiring to some beach house. (only place in the asoiaf series I can think of that, as far as I am aware, doesn't just fucking suck to live)