Shadows and Sparks: Book Two

*Return to Tokyo*

## Chapter 1: Homecoming

*Three Months Later*

The Tokyo skyline looked different through the window of your new apartment—brighter somehow, less threatening than it had when you and Toji first left the city all those months ago. Maybe it was the perspective that came with having a real home to return to, or maybe it was the sound of Megumi's laughter echoing from the kitchen where Toji was attempting to make breakfast.

"Attempting" being the key word.

"I think you're supposed to flip them before they turn black," Megumi said with the kind of patient amusement that came from watching his father struggle with domestic tasks for weeks now.

"They're not black, they're... well-done," Toji replied, though you could hear the defensive edge in his voice.

You smiled, padding barefoot across the hardwood floors of your new place in Shibuya. It was bigger than the mountain cabin, with actual bedrooms for everyone and a kitchen that didn't require Toji to duck under the light fixtures. More importantly, it felt like home in a way that had nothing to do with square footage and everything to do with the people filling it with life.

"Need rescue services?" you asked, appearing in the kitchen doorway to find Megumi perched on a stool at the counter while Toji glowered at a pan of what might have once been pancakes.

"Always," Megumi said immediately, grinning at you with Toji's green eyes. "Dad's cooking is a crime against breakfast."

"I can hear you," Toji muttered, but he stepped aside gratefully when you moved to take over pancake duty. "Kid's got no appreciation for effort."

"I have appreciation for edible food," Megumi shot back, then added more seriously, "But I do appreciate the effort. Even if the results are... questionable."

The easy banter between them still made your chest warm. It had taken time for Megumi to fully trust that this arrangement was permanent, that Toji wasn't going to disappear again. But seeing them now—Megumi comfortable enough to tease his father, Toji allowing himself to be domesticated without losing any of his dangerous edge—you knew the move back to Tokyo had been the right choice.

Even if it did come with complications.

"So," you said, saving the pancakes and starting a fresh batch, "remind me what time Gojo's supposed to be here?"

The question made both Fushiguro men tense slightly. Megumi because he was still processing the fact that his father and his teacher were going to be in the same room, and Toji because he was still processing the fact that he'd agreed to work with jujutsu sorcerers.

"Ten AM," Megumi said, checking his phone. "Which gives us about an hour to prepare for whatever chaos happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object."

"I'm not immovable," Toji said, accepting a cup of coffee with the reverent attention he gave to all of life's simple pleasures. "I'm just selective about who gets to move me."

You caught his eye and smiled, remembering all the ways he'd let you move him over the past year. "Very selective."

The look he gave you in return was warm and private, full of shared history and quiet promises. Even after everything—the danger, the running, the gradual building of this new life—he could still make your pulse quicken with just a glance.

"Gross," Megumi said mildly, though he was smiling. "Can you two save the meaningful looks until after I've had breakfast?"

"This is us being subtle," you informed him, flipping pancakes with perhaps more flair than necessary. "You should see us when we're not holding back."

"I really shouldn't," Megumi replied immediately. "In fact, let's never explore that topic."

Toji's laugh was rough and genuine, the sound still capable of lighting you up from the inside. This—this easy domesticity, this sense of family, this feeling of belonging somewhere—it was everything you'd never dared to hope for during those early days of running and fighting and falling in love against all odds.

Your phone buzzed with a text, interrupting your reflection. You glanced at it and felt your eyebrows rise.

"Gojo's early," you announced. "He's downstairs asking the building manager about 'security protocols and potential structural weaknesses.'"

Toji's expression shifted immediately, the domestic contentment replaced by something sharper and more alert. "He's casing the building."

"Probably just being thorough," Megumi said, though he looked uncertain. "Gojo-sensei is... intense about safety."

"Or he doesn't trust me not to have escape routes planned," Toji said, which was probably accurate since Toji definitely had escape routes planned. Old habits died hard, especially when you'd spent most of your adult life needing to run at a moment's notice.

You turned off the stove and moved to stand beside Toji, close enough that your shoulder brushed his arm. "Hey. It's going to be fine. Weird, probably, but fine."

"You don't know Gojo," Toji said, though his posture relaxed slightly at your proximity.

"No, but I know you. And I know Megumi. And I know that whatever happens, we'll handle it together." You reached up to touch his cheek, drawing his attention away from tactical considerations and back to you. "Besides, you're not the same person who took jobs from shady clients and lived in the shadows. You're a father now. A partner. Someone with people to protect instead of just survive."

Something shifted in Toji's expression—surprise, maybe, or recognition. "When did you get so wise?"

"I learned from the best," you said, then grinned. "Plus, I've had a lot of practice talking dangerous men into making better choices."

"Dangerous men, plural?" Toji's eyebrow rose. "Should I be worried?"

"Only if you count Megumi, and his danger is more in the 'sarcastic commentary' category than the 'actual violence' category."

"I'm sitting right here," Megumi pointed out. "And my sarcastic commentary is perfectly calibrated for maximum emotional damage."

"See?" you said to Toji. "Dangerous."

Another knock at the door interrupted the moment—this one more confident, more demanding. All three of you went still.

"That'll be him," Megumi said unnecessarily.

Toji straightened, his entire demeanor shifting as he prepared to face someone who represented everything he'd spent his life working against. But when he moved toward the door, you noticed he didn't check his weapons or position himself for combat.

Progress.

"Megumi," Toji said quietly, "why don't you get the door? Might be better if he sees you first."

It was a smart tactical choice, but also something more—a father making sure his son felt included in this moment that would define their new normal.

Megumi nodded and went to answer the door, leaving you and Toji standing in the kitchen, listening to the sound of muffled greetings from the hallway.

"You ready for this?" you asked quietly.

Toji's hand found yours, squeezing gently. "With you? I'm ready for anything."

The apartment door closed, followed by footsteps approaching the kitchen. You felt Toji tense beside you—not with fear, but with the coiled readiness of someone preparing to defend what was his.

"Dad, Y/N," Megumi's voice carried a note of careful neutrality, "I'd like you to meet my teacher. Gojo Satoru."

The man who walked into your kitchen was not what you'd expected.

Tall, yes, with white hair that seemed to defy gravity and dark sunglasses that he wore indoors for reasons you couldn't fathom. But more than that, he radiated a kind of casual confidence that spoke of someone who had never encountered a problem he couldn't handle through sheer force of will and probably excessive amounts of power.

He was also grinning like this was the most entertaining thing that had happened to him in months.

"So," Gojo said, looking directly at Toji with obvious interest, "you're the infamous Toji Fushiguro. I have to say, you're not what I expected."

"Disappointed?" Toji's voice was carefully neutral, but you could feel the tension radiating off him.

"Intrigued," Gojo corrected. "Megumi's told me a lot about how you've... changed. And I have to admit, I'm curious about the woman who managed to domesticate the Sorcerer Killer."

The title hung in the air between them—acknowledgment of what Toji had been, what he'd done, the reputation that would always follow him regardless of the choices he made now.

But instead of flinching or making excuses, Toji simply nodded. "That's what I used to be. Not what I am now."

"And what are you now?" Gojo asked, genuinely curious.

Toji glanced at you, then at Megumi, then back at the powerful sorcerer standing in his kitchen. When he spoke, his voice was steady and sure.

"A father. A partner. Someone who's learned that there are things more important than survival."

Gojo studied him for a long moment, those hidden eyes undoubtedly cataloging every micro-expression and body language cue. Then his grin widened.

"Good answer," he said. "Now, shall we discuss how you're going to help us save Tokyo from whatever supernatural nightmare decides to show up next?"

## Chapter 2: Terms and Negotiations

The silence that followed Gojo's question stretched for exactly three seconds—long enough for you to see Toji's jaw tighten and Megumi shift uncomfortably.

"Let me be clear about something," Toji said finally, his voice carrying that dangerous edge you recognized from the early days. "I don't work for the jujutsu world. I don't work for you. If I choose to help, it's on my terms, for my reasons."

"Of course," Gojo said easily, as if he'd expected exactly this response. "I wouldn't dream of trying to control the great Toji Fushiguro. That would be like trying to leash a hurricane."

You caught the slight emphasis on "great" and had to hide a smile. Gojo was either genuinely respectful or an excellent manipulator. Possibly both.

"But," Gojo continued, settling into one of your kitchen chairs uninvited, "I'm curious about what your terms would be. Hypothetically."

Toji exchanged a glance with you—a silent communication that had developed over months of facing impossible situations together. You nodded slightly, encouraging him to continue.

"First," Toji said, "my family doesn't get involved unless they choose to be. That includes Megumi. I don't care if he's your student—he's my son, and his safety comes before your missions."

"Agreed," Gojo said immediately. "Though I should point out that Megumi is quite capable of making his own choices about involvement."

"He's sixteen," you interjected. "Capable doesn't mean we stop looking out for him."

Gojo's hidden gaze shifted to you, and you got the distinct impression you were being evaluated. "And what's your position in all this?"

"My position," you said, moving to stand beside Toji's chair, "is that I go where he goes. We're a package deal."

"She's not negotiable," Toji added, his hand finding yours automatically. "If you want my help, you get both of us."

"Interesting," Gojo mused. "I was told you were formidable, but I wasn't expecting a team."

"The best kind of dangerous," Megumi said quietly, speaking up for the first time since the introductions. "They're scary efficient when they work together."

You felt a flush of pride at the casual way Megumi talked about you and Toji as a unit. It had taken time for him to see you as more than just someone dating his father, but somewhere along the way, you'd become family.

"What else?" Gojo prompted.

"Second," Toji continued, "I choose which jobs I take. You can ask, but you can't order. I'm not one of your sorcerers, and I won't pretend to be."

"Fair enough. What about compensation?"

The question seemed to surprise Toji. "Compensation?"

"You're not doing this out of the goodness of your heart," Gojo said with amusement. "And I'm not naive enough to think you should. The jujutsu world has resources—money, information, protection when needed. What would make this arrangement worthwhile for you?"

Toji was quiet for a long moment, considering. You knew he was thinking about the practical aspects—rent for this apartment, food for a growing teenager, the kind of stability that required steady income.

"Information," you said suddenly, the idea crystallizing as you spoke. "About cursed spirits, about threats to civilians. We've been fighting this stuff on our own for months, but we're working blind half the time."

"Smart," Gojo approved. "Early warning systems, threat assessments, backup when things go sideways."

"And money," Toji added bluntly. "I've got a family to support, and legitimate work doesn't exactly come easy when your resume includes 'former assassin.'"

"The jujutsu world pays well for specialized skills," Gojo assured him. "Especially for someone with your particular talents."

"What talents would those be?" you asked, curious about how the official sorcerer world saw Toji's abilities.

"Combat expertise, obviously. But more than that—your partner has a unique perspective on cursed spirits and cursed energy. He fights them without having any cursed energy of his own, which means he's developed strategies and techniques that traditional sorcerers never consider."

Gojo leaned forward slightly, his tone growing more serious. "There's also the fact that he's killed sorcerers before. That's not a skill we take lightly, but there are situations where understanding how to counter sorcerer techniques could be invaluable."

The reminder of Toji's past hung in the air, but instead of shame or defensiveness, you felt only a fierce protectiveness. That was who he'd been when survival was his only goal. It wasn't who he was now.

"Third condition," Toji said, apparently unbothered by the reference to his darker days. "My past stays in the past. I'm not interested in being anyone's attack dog or assassination solution. If that's what you're looking for, find someone else."

"Noted. Though I should mention that the jujutsu world has other problems besides the ones that require killing."

"Such as?"

Gojo's grin was sharp and slightly unsettling. "Cursed spirits are getting stronger and more intelligent. There's been an uptick in organized curse activity—groups working together, planning coordinated attacks. Some of them have been specifically targeting sorcerer families."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. You felt Toji go very still beside you, that predatory stillness that meant he was assessing threats.

"Are you saying my family is in danger?" Toji's voice was deadly quiet.

"I'm saying your family could become a target if the wrong cursed spirits learn that the former Sorcerer Killer is now working with us," Gojo replied honestly. "But that's also exactly why we need your help. These organized curses are using tactics that traditional sorcerers aren't trained to counter."

"And you think I am?"

"I think you understand violence in a way most sorcerers don't. I think you know how to think like a predator, how to anticipate strategies based on self-preservation rather than honor or duty." Gojo's tone was matter-of-fact rather than accusatory. "I think you and your partner could teach us things we need to know."

You looked at Toji, seeing the internal conflict playing out across his features. The protective instinct warring with the desire to stay out of the jujutsu world's problems, the practical need for income against the risk of exposure.

"What kind of timeline are we talking about?" you asked.

"Immediate," Gojo said apologetically. "There's been activity in Roppongi that fits the pattern. Three attacks in the past week, all targeting civilians with no cursed energy, but the spirits involved showed clear coordination."

"Sounds like they're herding," Toji said grimly.

"Herding?"

"Basic predator behavior. You separate the weak from the herd, drive them toward a killing ground, eliminate them efficiently." Toji's expression was cold and analytical. "If the curses are targeting non-sorcerers specifically, they're either building up power or trying to draw out sorcerers by threatening civilians."

"Both, we think," Gojo confirmed. "Which is why we need someone who understands that kind of strategic thinking."

Megumi had been quiet through most of this exchange, but now he spoke up. "Dad, if these things are hunting civilians..."

"I know, kid." Toji's voice was soft when he looked at his son. "I know."

You squeezed Toji's hand, offering silent support while he worked through the decision. You could see the exact moment he made up his mind—the shift from reluctance to grim determination.

"One job," Toji said finally. "Trial run. If it works out, we negotiate a longer arrangement. If it doesn't, we walk away clean."

"Deal," Gojo said immediately. "When can you start?"

"Now," you said, surprising yourself with the decisiveness. "If there are people in danger, we start now."

Gojo's smile was brilliant and slightly manic. "I was hoping you'd say that. Megumi, you're staying here."

"But—" Megumi started to protest.

"No arguments," Toji said firmly. "This is exactly the kind of situation I don't want you involved in until we know what we're dealing with."

"Besides," you added, "someone needs to hold down the fort. Make sure we have somewhere to come back to."

Megumi looked like he wanted to argue further, but something in Toji's expression must have convinced him this wasn't the time. "Fine. But I want a full debrief when you get back."

"Deal," Toji said, then looked at Gojo. "How bad is this going to be?"

"On a scale of one to 'complete supernatural catastrophe'? Probably about a seven."

"Great," you muttered, already mentally preparing for whatever chaos awaited. "Just how I wanted to spend my morning."

But as you and Toji gathered your gear—his weapons, your own defensive tools, the kind of preparation that had become second nature—you felt that familiar thrill of anticipation. This was what you were good at. What you were built for.

And this time, you weren't just fighting to survive or to protect each other. You were fighting to protect the life you'd built, the family you'd found, the future you were creating together.

That made all the difference.

## Chapter 3: First Mission

Roppongi looked like a war zone.

Not the obvious kind—there were no burning buildings or obvious signs of destruction. But you'd learned to read the subtler signs of supernatural violence: the way civilians unconsciously avoided certain streets, the unnatural quiet that settled over areas where cursed spirits had been active, the taste of fear that lingered in the air like smoke.

"Three locations," Gojo explained as your impromptu team moved through the district. "All within a six-block radius. First attack was a businessman walking home from work. Second was a group of college students leaving a bar. Third was a night shift worker heading to the subway."

"All alone or isolated," you noted, falling into step beside Toji. "Classic predator targeting."

"And all survived, which is unusual," Gojo continued. "Most cursed spirit attacks don't leave witnesses. These victims were injured, traumatized, but alive."

Toji's expression was grim. "They're not hunting for food. They're collecting information."

"About what?"

"Response times. Defense patterns. How long it takes for sorcerers to show up." Toji paused at a corner, his enhanced senses picking up something the rest of you missed. "They're studying you."

The realization sent a chill down your spine. Cursed spirits that planned, that learned, that adapted—those were the kind of threats that kept you awake at night.

"Where's the most recent attack site?" you asked.

Gojo pointed toward a narrow alley between two office buildings. "About two blocks from here. The victim was found unconscious but alive, with strange markings on his arms. Medical couldn't identify the cause."

"Show me."

The alley was typical Tokyo urban landscape—narrow, poorly lit, the kind of place people avoided after dark for good reason. But as you approached the attack site, you felt that familiar prickle of wrongness that meant cursed energy residue.

"There," you said, pointing to a section of wall where the concrete looked slightly different. "Something was here for a while. Long enough to leave an imprint."

Toji moved to examine the area, his fingers tracing patterns invisible to normal sight. "Multiple spirits. At least three, maybe four. They waited here—this wasn't random."

"An ambush," Gojo said grimly.

"More than that." You crouched beside a storm drain, examining the area around it. "Look at the positioning. They had the victim surrounded, but they didn't go for a quick kill. This was deliberate, controlled."

"Like an interrogation," Toji added, his voice cold with understanding.

Before anyone could respond, the temperature in the alley dropped ten degrees in as many seconds. Your breath misted in the suddenly frigid air, and every instinct screamed danger.

"We're not alone," you said quietly, reaching for the weapons concealed beneath your jacket.

The cursed spirits materialized from the shadows like smoke given form—not one or two, but six of them, moving with coordinated precision that confirmed your worst fears. These weren't random monsters driven by hunger. These were soldiers following orders.

"Well," Gojo said, his casual tone at odds with the cursed energy beginning to manifest around him, "this is convenient. No need to hunt them down."

The largest of the spirits—a grotesque thing with too many eyes and limbs that bent in directions anatomy didn't support—stepped forward with clear intelligence in its gaze.

"Sorcerers," it hissed, its voice like grinding glass. "Come to play heroes?"

"Something like that," Toji replied, and you felt rather than saw him shift into combat mode. The change was instantaneous—from protective father and partner to apex predator, all lethal grace and controlled violence.

"And you brought pets," another spirit added, its multiple mouths curving into what might have been a smile. "How thoughtful. We've been wanting to test our new techniques on non-sorcerers."

The threat against you sparked something dangerous in Toji's eyes. "Bad choice of words."

The attack came without further warning—six spirits moving in perfect coordination, using the alley's narrow confines to limit escape routes while maximizing their numerical advantage.

It was exactly the kind of tactical thinking that would have overwhelmed most sorcerer teams.

Unfortunately for them, you and Toji had never been most people.

You moved left as Toji went right, the kind of seamless coordination that came from months of fighting together. Gojo took the center, his technique creating a barrier that forced the spirits to split their attention.

The first spirit that came for you learned quickly that "non-sorcerer" didn't mean "helpless." Your blade found its core before it could complete its attack, the blessed steel disrupting its form enough for Gojo's technique to finish the job.

"Not bad," Gojo called out, sounding genuinely impressed as he dismantled two spirits simultaneously. "You've been holding out on me, Toji."

"Haven't even gotten started yet," Toji replied, using the alley wall to launch himself at the largest spirit with bone-crushing force.

The fight was brutal, efficient, and over in less than three minutes. When the dust settled, six cursed spirits had been reduced to rapidly dissipating energy, and your impromptu team stood relatively unharmed in the now-quiet alley.

"Well," you said, checking your blade for damage, "that was enlightening."

"They were definitely organized," Gojo agreed. "But also overconfident. They thought they could handle us based on outdated information."

"They were testing us," Toji said grimly. "This wasn't a real attack. This was reconnaissance."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it. Six spirits, coordinated attack, but they engaged us head-on in an enclosed space where we had the advantage." Toji's expression was troubled. "Either they're incredibly stupid, or this was never about winning."

The implication hit you like a physical blow. "They wanted to see how we fight. How we work together."

"Which means there are more of them," Gojo said, his casual demeanor replaced by something much more serious. "And now they know what we're capable of."

"Or what they think we're capable of," you corrected. "Good thing we held back."

Both men looked at you with expressions of amusement and slight concern.

"That was you holding back?" Gojo asked.

"We didn't use any of our real techniques," you pointed out. "Basic combat, standard weapons. If they're going to study us, might as well make sure they learn the wrong lessons."

Toji's smile was sharp and proud. "See why I keep her around?"

"Among many other reasons, I'm sure," Gojo replied dryly. "But she's right. If this was reconnaissance, we need to assume there's a larger operation in play."

Your phone buzzed with an incoming call—Megumi's number. You answered immediately, worry spiking in your chest.

"Everything okay?"

"Fine here," Megumi's voice came through clearly. "But I think you should know—there's been unusual cursed energy activity around our building for the past hour. Nothing aggressive, but definitely surveillance."

The three of you exchanged grim looks.

"They're not just studying our combat abilities," you said quietly. "They're mapping our lives."

"Home invasion?" Toji's voice was deadly calm, but you could see the fury building behind his eyes.

"Looks like it," Gojo confirmed. "The question is whether we respond to their terms or set our own."

You looked at Toji, seeing your own determination reflected in his expression. They'd made this personal the moment they started surveilling your family.

"We set our own," you said firmly. "Time to show them what happens when they threaten the people we protect."

Toji's smile was all teeth and promised violence. "I was hoping you'd say that."

As you left the alley, moving with purpose toward whatever confrontation awaited, you felt that familiar thrill of working alongside the man you loved. Different mission, higher stakes, but the core truth remained the same.

Together, you were unstoppable.

And anyone who threatened your family was about to learn exactly what that meant.

## Chapter 4: Home Defense

The ride back to your apartment building was tense with barely controlled fury. Toji sat in the passenger seat of Gojo's car, his knuckles white as he gripped his phone, every line of his body radiating the kind of lethal energy that meant someone was about to have a very bad day.

"Megumi, status report," he said into the phone, his voice deadly calm.

"Still fine," Megumi's voice came through the speaker. "But the cursed energy signatures are getting stronger. Whatever they're doing, they're not trying to hide it anymore."

"How many?" you asked from the backseat, checking your weapons for the third time.

"Hard to tell. At least four distinct signatures, maybe more. They're positioned around the building—north, south, east, and west sides."

"Classic containment formation," Gojo observed grimly. "They're not planning to attack. They're planning to trap."

"Trap what?" Toji's voice was dangerously quiet.

"Us, when we come home. Or Megumi, if we don't." Gojo's expression was harder than you'd seen it. "Either way, they've made a serious tactical error."

"What's that?"

"They're threatening our families."

The building came into view, and at first glance, everything looked normal. Ordinary Tokyo apartment complex, ordinary evening lighting, ordinary pedestrians going about their business.

But you'd learned to look deeper than surface appearances.

"There," you said, pointing to a figure standing too casually near the building's entrance. "And there, by the convenience store. And the one pretending to read a newspaper under the streetlight."

"Not spirits," Toji said, his enhanced senses picking up details the rest of you missed. "Human. Curse users."

The realization sent ice through your veins. Cursed spirits were dangerous, but they operated on instinct and hunger. Curse users were human sorcerers who'd chosen to use their abilities for destruction and personal gain. They were intelligent, adaptable, and absolutely ruthless.

"How do you want to play this?" Gojo asked, pulling the car into a parking spot three blocks away from the building.

"Quiet and fast," Toji said immediately. "If they're watching Megumi, we don't give them time to use him as leverage."

"Agreed. What's the building layout?"

You pulled out your phone, bringing up the floor plan you'd memorized when you first moved in. "Fire escape on the east side, main entrance south, service entrance west. We're on the fourth floor, corner unit."

"Multiple escape routes," Toji noted with approval. "Good. Gojo, can you handle the containment team while we get to Megumi?"

"With pleasure. How long do you need?"

"Five minutes to secure the apartment, then we come down and help with cleanup."

"Make it three. I don't want to give them time to call for backup."

You looked between the two men—one the strongest sorcerer in Japan, the other a former assassin turned protective father—and felt a fierce surge of confidence. Whatever these curse users had planned, they'd seriously underestimated what they were up against.

"Let's go bring hell to their doorstep," you said, checking your blade one final time.

Toji's smile was sharp and absolutely terrifying. "After you, sweetheart."

---

The approach to the building was a masterclass in coordinated stealth. Gojo peeled off to handle the perimeter team while you and Toji made your way to the service entrance, moving through shadows with the kind of silent precision that came from years of survival-based combat.

"Four flights up," you whispered as Toji picked the service door lock with professional efficiency. "Emergency stairwell should be clear."

"Should be," Toji agreed grimly. "But we plan for the worst."

The stairwell was empty, but the wrongness in the air was palpable—the particular tension that came from being in the presence of hostile curse users. They were close, watching, waiting.

Third floor. Fourth floor. The hallway stretched ahead, ordinary and residential and absolutely crawling with barely contained malevolent energy.

"Two in the hallway," Toji whispered, his enhanced senses mapping threats. "One by the elevator, one outside our door."

"Megumi?"

"Inside, alive, but there's cursed energy in the apartment. At least one more threat."

The fury that bloomed in your chest was cold and focused. They'd invaded your home. Threatened your family. Put hands on a sixteen-year-old kid who'd already been through enough trauma for one lifetime.

They were about to learn exactly why that was a mistake.

"On three?" you asked.

"On three."

The attack was swift, silent, and absolutely devastating. You took the curse user by the elevator—a young man who barely had time to register your presence before your blade found his heart. Toji handled the one outside your apartment with the kind of brutal efficiency that left no room for counterattack.

The apartment door was unlocked, which was either carelessness or a trap. Knowing your luck, probably both.

Inside, you found Megumi sitting calmly on the living room couch, hands zip-tied behind his back, while a curse user in expensive clothing held a knife to his throat.

"Welcome home," the man said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost."

"Not lost," Toji said conversationally, stepping into the apartment with his hands visibly empty. "Just delayed by your friends in the hallway."

"Friends who are now very dead," you added helpfully, moving to flank the curse user's position. "Hope they weren't anyone important."

The man's smile faltered slightly. "You're supposed to be afraid. Your son is in mortal danger."

"My son," Toji said, his voice dropping to that particular tone that meant imminent violence, "is about to watch his father and stepmother demonstrate why threatening our family is the last mistake you'll ever make."

"Step—?" the curse user started, then stopped as he caught sight of Megumi's expression.

The kid wasn't scared. He was annoyed.

"You might want to let me go now," Megumi said calmly. "They get really creative when they're protecting family."

"Shut up," the curse user snapped, pressing the knife closer to Megumi's throat. "One more step and—"

He never got to finish the threat. Toji moved like liquid lightning, crossing the room in a blur of motion that ended with the curse user on the floor, unconscious and probably concussed. The knife skittered harmlessly across the hardwood.

"You okay, kid?" you asked, moving to cut Megumi's restraints.

"Fine," Megumi said, rubbing his wrists. "Though I have to admit, I was starting to wonder if you were going to let him finish his villain speech."

"We were being polite," Toji said dryly. "Seemed rude to interrupt."

The sound of footsteps in the hallway announced Gojo's arrival, and he appeared in the doorway looking slightly windblown but satisfied.

"Perimeter's clear," he announced. "Four curse users, all handled. Though I have to ask—was the one in the hallway supposed to have a head, or was that artistic interpretation?"

"That was efficiency," Toji replied without a trace of remorse.

"Fair enough." Gojo looked around the apartment, taking in the scene. "Everyone okay?"

"We're fine," you said, though you were already mentally cataloging what would need to be replaced or cleaned. "But I think it's safe to say they've escalated beyond reconnaissance."

"Agreed. This was meant to be a message—stay out of their business or face consequences."

"Then I guess we need to send a message back," Megumi said quietly.

All three adults turned to look at him, surprised by the steel in his voice.

"They came into our home," he continued, his green eyes blazing with something that reminded you powerfully of his father. "They threatened our family. That's not something you just walk away from."

Toji's expression shifted to something like pride mixed with concern. "Megumi—"

"I'm not saying I want to fight them," Megumi interrupted. "I'm saying they need to understand that threatening us was a mistake. That we're not victims they can intimidate."

"Smart kid," Gojo said approvingly. "And he's right. This was a test, and we need to make sure they fail it spectacularly."

"What did you have in mind?" you asked.

Gojo's smile was sharp and slightly unhinged. "I'm thinking it's time to stop playing defense. Time to take the fight to them."

Toji looked at you, at Megumi, at the apartment that had been violated by people who thought they could use fear as a weapon against your family.

"I'm in," he said simply.

"So am I," you added.

"Then let's go remind Tokyo's curse users why threatening the people we protect is such a bad idea," Gojo said.

As you prepared to leave your temporarily violated sanctuary, you felt that familiar thrill of impending combat. But this time, it was different. This time, you weren't just fighting for survival or for each other.

This time, you were fighting for home.

## Chapter 5: Going on the Hunt

The curse user who'd held a knife to Megumi's throat was awake now, zip-tied to one of your kitchen chairs and looking significantly less confident than he had twenty minutes ago.

"You know," you said conversationally, perching on the edge of your coffee table so you were at eye level with him, "breaking into someone's home is really rude. Threatening their kid? That's just poor life choices."

The man glared at you with the kind of defiance that suggested he either had backup coming or was too stupid to understand the gravity of his situation.

"You have no idea what you're dealing with," he spat. "The organization I work for—"

"Has terrible hiring standards, apparently," Toji interrupted from where he was cleaning his weapons with methodical precision. "Sending amateurs to threaten sorcerers' families. Almost insulting."

"We're not sorcerers," Gojo said mildly from his position by the window, where he was keeping watch for additional threats. "Well, I am. But they're not. Which makes your little home invasion even more embarrassing."

"What organization?" you asked, bringing the conversation back to practical matters. "And before you give me some dramatic speech about loyalty and consequences, remember that your friends are all either unconscious or dead, you're tied to a chair in our kitchen, and we've had a really long day."

The curse user's jaw tightened. "The Shadow Collective. And when they find out what you've done—"

"They'll what?" Megumi spoke up from the couch, where he was icing a bruise on his wrist. "Send more incompetent kidnappers? Because that worked so well the first time."

"Megumi," Toji said warningly, though there was pride in his voice.

"What? I'm just pointing out the obvious tactical flaws in their approach." Megumi's tone was matter-of-fact. "If you're going to threaten someone's family, you should probably make sure you can actually follow through."

You had to hide a smile. The kid was definitely Toji's son.

"Shadow Collective," Gojo mused. "Can't say I've heard of them. New players in the curse user scene?"

"Been operating for about six months," the captive said, apparently deciding that giving up information might improve his chances of survival. "Started small, but we've been growing. Recruiting. Planning."

"Planning what?" you asked.

"To show the jujutsu world that there's more than one way to use cursed energy. That the traditional sorcerer families don't have a monopoly on power."

"Ah," Gojo said with understanding. "Revolution. How... predictable."

"You mock what you don't understand," the curse user snarled. "When the Collective rises—"

"When the Collective rises, they'll discover that threatening families is a really good way to get themselves eliminated," Toji said flatly. "Where's your base of operations?"

"I'm not telling you anything else."

"Actually, you are." You leaned forward slightly, letting him see the blade in your hand. "Because right now, we're the only thing standing between you and Gojo's creative interpretation of justice. And trust me, you want us in a cooperative mood."

The man looked between the three adults, finally seeming to grasp that his situation had moved well beyond 'captured by the good guys who follow rules.'

"There's an abandoned warehouse in the industrial district," he said reluctantly. "Sector 7, building 23-C. But it's heavily guarded, and if you think you can just walk in—"

"We don't think anything," Toji interrupted. "We know. Because unlike your organization, we actually plan our operations instead of just hoping intimidation will work."

"Speaking of planning," Gojo said, turning from the window, "we should move fast. The longer we wait, the more time they have to relocate or reinforce."

"Agreed." You stood up, checking your gear. "But we're not taking Megumi anywhere near that warehouse."

"Obviously," Toji said. "Kid stays here, building's secure now that we've cleared the surveillance."

"Actually," Megumi said carefully, "I have a better idea."

All three adults turned to look at him with expressions of deep suspicion.

"No," Toji said immediately. "Whatever you're thinking, no."

"You haven't even heard it yet."

"I don't need to. That tone of voice means you're about to suggest something dangerous, and the answer is no."

"What if I told you I could help you get intelligence on their operation without leaving the apartment?"

That got everyone's attention.

"How?" you asked.

Megumi pulled out his phone, showing a screen full of code and data streams. "I've been tracking the cursed energy signatures around our building for the past two hours. Cross-referencing with public databases, social media, financial records. I've got preliminary IDs on three of the attackers and a list of properties connected to shell companies they've used."

Gojo stared at him. "You did all that from your phone?"

"I got bored while I was tied up," Megumi said with a shrug. "Plus, I figured if they were dumb enough to attack us at home, they were probably sloppy about operational security too."

"And?" Toji prompted, though his tone suggested he was both impressed and concerned.

"And I was right. Look." Megumi turned his phone around, showing a detailed map with multiple locations highlighted. "Seven properties, all purchased through the same network of shell companies. The warehouse your new friend mentioned is one of them, but it's probably not their main base."

"How can you tell?" you asked.

"Too obvious. If I found it in two hours of casual research, it's not where they keep their important stuff." Megumi highlighted a different location on the map. "This one, though—old office building in Akasaka, purchased six months ago, renovated with unusual electrical requirements and soundproofing permits."

"That's..." Gojo looked genuinely impressed. "That's actually brilliant detective work."

"I learned from the best," Megumi said, glancing at his father and you.

Toji's expression was complicated—pride, concern, and something that might have been recognition that his son was growing into someone formidable.

"All right," he said finally. "Good work. But you're still not coming with us."

"I wasn't planning to," Megumi replied. "Someone needs to stay here and monitor communications, make sure they don't have any nasty surprises waiting when you get back."

"Plus," you added, "if something goes wrong, you're our contingency plan. Smart, capable, and able to call for backup if needed."

"Exactly." Megumi's smile was sharp and confident. "Besides, I've got three more hours of data analysis to do. By the time you get back, I'll have a complete dossier on their entire operation."

You looked at Toji, seeing your own thoughts reflected in his expression. Somewhere along the way, Megumi had stopped being just a kid they needed to protect and started becoming a partner in his own right.

"All right," Toji said. "We hit the Akasaka location. Fast, quiet, and we're back before midnight."

"What about him?" you nodded toward the tied-up curse user.

"He stays here," Gojo said cheerfully. "I'll leave a little technique to keep him comfortable and quiet while we're gone."

The curse user's eyes went wide with panic. "You can't just leave me here!"

"Watch us," Toji said without sympathy. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before threatening kids."

As you prepared to leave—checking weapons, confirming communication protocols, making sure Megumi had everything he needed for his intelligence gathering—you felt that familiar pre-mission focus settling over you.

But this time, it was different. This time, you weren't just going into danger for a job or even for each other.

This time, you were going to eliminate a threat to your family.

"Ready?" Toji asked, his hand finding yours briefly.

"Ready," you confirmed.

"Then let's go remind the Shadow Collective why threatening our family was the worst mistake they ever made," Gojo said, his casual tone undercut by something much more dangerous.

As you left the apartment, you caught Megumi's eye one more time.

"Be careful," he said quietly.

"Always are," you replied.

"No, you're not. You're brave and reckless and protective, which is completely different." Megumi's smile was fond but worried. "Just... come home, okay?"

"We will," Toji promised, his voice absolutely certain.

And as you headed into the Tokyo night to hunt the people who'd dared to threaten your son, you believed him completely.

After all, you had something worth coming home to.