Coffee and Complications

Jay waited three days before calling the number on the card.

Not because they were scared—they'd stopped being scared of much after their second year on the streets. But because showing up too quickly would make them look desperate, and desperate people made bad deals.

The café Gojo had mentioned was one of those sterile 24-hour places that catered to salarymen pulling all-nighters and insomniacs with nowhere else to go. Perfect for a conversation you didn't want overheard.

Jay arrived fifteen minutes early, claimed a corner booth with clear sightlines to all the exits, and ordered black coffee they had no intention of drinking. Old habits.

Gojo showed up exactly on time, which was either impressive punctuality or a calculated power move. Jay was betting on the latter.

"You came," he said, sliding into the booth across from them like they were old friends meeting for a casual chat.

"I'm here," Jay replied, not quite the same thing. "Talk."

Up close, Gojo looked even younger than Jay had initially thought—maybe early twenties, with the kind of effortless confidence that usually came from never having to worry about where your next meal was coming from. His hair was perfectly styled despite the late hour, and those dark glasses he wore indoors made it impossible to read his expressions.

"Straight to business. I like that." Gojo signaled the waitress for coffee. "So, Jay—can I call you Jay? I feel like we're past formalities after that little show in the alley."

Jay's blood went cold. They'd never given him their name. "How do you—"

"Know who you are?" Gojo's smile was sharp. "Kid, you've been operating in Tokyo for what, six months? Eight? Leaving behind a trail of mysteriously dead cursed spirits and very confused witnesses. Did you really think nobody would notice?"

"Witnesses can't see cursed spirits," Jay said carefully.

"No, but they can see the aftermath. Scorch marks that don't match any known cursed technique. Cursed spirits that dissolve completely instead of leaving residue. And then there are the sorcerers who've been tracking the anomalies." Gojo leaned back as the waitress brought his coffee. "You've been making waves in a very small pond."

Jay's mind raced. If multiple sorcerers knew about them, if there were official investigations... "What do you want?"

"Right now? To understand what you are." Gojo's head tilted slightly. "See, here's the interesting thing—I can't sense any cursed energy from you. None. It's like you're completely normal, except for the part where you can apparently dissolve Grade 2 cursed spirits with kitchen knives."

"They're not kitchen knives," Jay muttered before they could stop themselves.

"Ah, so they are special. Custom made? Cursed tools? Family heirlooms?" When Jay didn't answer, Gojo continued. "The silent treatment is very mysterious, but it's not going to help either of us."

Jay stared at him for a long moment, weighing their options. They could lie, but something told them this guy would see right through it. They could run, but he'd already proven he could find them once. Or...

"Why should I trust you?" they asked instead.

"Because," Gojo said, pulling off his glasses to reveal the most startling blue eyes Jay had ever seen, "the alternative is a lot less pleasant."

Those eyes weren't just blue—they seemed to glow with their own light, and Jay had the uncomfortable feeling they were seeing things normal eyes couldn't. When Gojo looked at them, it felt like being examined under a microscope.

"There are people in the jujutsu world who don't like anomalies," Gojo continued, his voice still friendly but with an edge underneath. "People who think anything they can't understand should be eliminated. As the strongest sorcerer in Japan, I have a certain amount of influence over how those situations get handled."

*The strongest sorcerer in Japan.* That explained the god complex.

"So this is a threat," Jay said.

"This is an opportunity." Gojo put his glasses back on. "Work with me, and I can offer you protection, training, resources. Keep doing the lone wolf thing, and eventually you'll run into something you can't handle. Or someone will decide you're too dangerous to ignore."

Jay took a sip of their cooling coffee, buying time to think. The smart play was probably to accept—this Gojo guy clearly had power and connections, and Jay's street-kid instincts screamed that having a powerful ally was always better than making a powerful enemy.

But accepting help meant answering questions. It meant explaining things Jay had spent years keeping secret. It meant trusting someone, and trust was a luxury Jay had learned they couldn't afford.

"I work alone," they said finally.

"So I noticed. How's that been going for you?"

Jay bristled. "I'm doing fine."

"Are you? When's the last time you slept somewhere safe? Had a real meal? Went a day without looking over your shoulder?" Gojo's voice was gentler now, almost concerned. "I'm not trying to be cruel, kid. But surviving isn't the same as living."

The words hit closer to home than Jay wanted to admit. They'd been running on adrenaline and stubbornness for so long, they'd almost forgotten what it felt like to not be constantly on guard.

Almost.

"What exactly are you offering?" Jay asked, hating how small their voice sounded.

"Depends what you need. Food, shelter, training—all of that's negotiable. What's not negotiable is bringing you into the official fold. There are rules, procedures, people you'd have to answer to."

"I don't answer to anyone."

"Everyone answers to someone, Jay. The trick is making sure it's someone who has your best interests at heart."

Jay studied Gojo's face, trying to read past the casual confidence. There was something genuine there, beneath all the power plays and cryptic comments. Something that might actually be concern.

It was probably an act. But...

"One job," Jay said suddenly. "You want to see what I can do, give me one job. If I complete it to your satisfaction, we talk about the rest."

Gojo's eyebrows rose above his glasses. "A trial run?"

"A test. For both of us." Jay leaned forward. "You get to see if I'm worth the trouble, and I get to see if you're full of shit."

Gojo was quiet for a moment, then started laughing—a genuine sound that transformed his entire face. "You know what? I like you, kid. You've got guts."

"Is that a yes?"

"That's a yes." Gojo pulled out his phone, scrolling through what looked like a very long list of messages. "Lucky for you, I've got just the thing. There's been a series of attacks in Harajuku—three people hospitalized, all with the same symptoms. Cursed spirit, definitely, but it's been careful. No witnesses, no obvious patterns."

"Sounds routine."

"It would be, except two separate teams of sorcerers have failed to track it down. Whatever this thing is, it's smart and it's elusive." Gojo's smile turned sharp. "Think you can handle something the professionals couldn't?"

Jay's answering smile was just as sharp. "When do I start?"

"Tomorrow night. I'll text you the details." Gojo stood, dropping money on the table for both their coffees. "One piece of advice? This isn't like the random cursed spirits you've been picking off in alleys. This one's been planning, preparing. Don't underestimate it."

"I never underestimate anything that's trying to kill me," Jay replied. "It's bad for my health."

Gojo paused at the edge of the booth, looking like he wanted to say something else. Instead, he just nodded.

"See you around, Jay."

Jay watched him leave, then sat in the empty café for another twenty minutes, thinking. They'd just agreed to work with one of the most powerful sorcerers in Japan on a case that had already stumped multiple professional teams.

Either this was the smartest thing they'd ever done, or they were about to get themselves killed.

Knowing their luck, it was probably both.

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