the rest of book two

## Chapter 6: Shadow Collective Elimination

The office building in Akasaka looked innocuous enough from the outside—glass and steel reaching toward the Tokyo skyline, indistinguishable from hundreds of others in the district. But the moment you stepped out of Gojo's car, you could feel the wrongness emanating from it like heat from asphalt.

"Definitely the right place," you murmured, your enhanced senses picking up the thick concentration of cursed energy. "That's a lot of curse users in one building."

"Fifteen, maybe twenty," Toji confirmed grimly. "Multiple floors, organized positioning. They're expecting trouble."

"Good," Gojo said with that slightly unhinged smile that meant he was looking forward to violence. "I hate it when they make it too easy."

The three of you moved through the shadows toward the building's service entrance, your coordination seamless after the earlier mission. This time, though, the stakes felt different. This wasn't about stopping random cursed spirits or even protecting civilians.

This was personal.

"Security cameras?" you asked.

"Handled," Gojo replied, his technique having already disabled the building's electronic surveillance. "We've got maybe ten minutes before their IT department realizes something's wrong."

"More than enough," Toji said, examining the service door's lock mechanism. "Standard security, nothing special. They're relying on numbers and cursed energy, not actual tactical thinking."

The lock yielded to his expertise in seconds, and you slipped inside to find yourselves in a maintenance corridor that smelled of industrial cleaning supplies and something less identifiable that made your skin crawl.

"Basement level," you noted, checking the building schematics Megumi had provided. "Main operations are probably on floors three through six."

"Split up or stay together?" Gojo asked.

"Together," Toji said immediately. "Unknown numbers, unknown abilities, and they've had time to prepare. We don't take chances."

"Agreed. Besides," you added with a sharp smile, "it's more fun when we work as a team."

The elevator shaft provided perfect vertical access, and Gojo's technique made climbing six floors in complete silence trivial. When you reached the third floor, the cursed energy was so thick you could practically taste it.

"Jackpot," you whispered, feeling the familiar pre-combat focus settling over you. "Multiple signatures, all concentrated in what looks like a conference room."

"Meeting in progress," Toji observed. "Perfect timing."

"On three?" Gojo asked, positioning himself by the access panel.

"On three."

The explosive entry through the ceiling was probably overkill, but it certainly made an impression. Gojo's technique tore through the reinforced flooring like tissue paper, sending debris and shock waves through the room below.

You dropped through the opening first, landing in a crouch amid a conference table full of very surprised curse users. Your blade was already moving before your feet touched the ground, taking out the closest threat with surgical precision.

Toji landed beside you, his presence immediately shifting the room's dynamic from 'meeting interrupted' to 'massacre in progress.' The curse user reaching for an alarm never completed the motion.

Gojo descended last, his cursed energy flaring so brightly it threw harsh shadows across the walls. "Sorry to interrupt," he said pleasantly to the remaining dozen curse users who were scrambling for weapons and defensive positions. "We need to have a conversation about your organization's recent activities."

"Kill them!" someone shouted—presumably whoever had been running the meeting. "They're just three people!"

The attack that followed was chaotic, desperate, and ultimately futile.

You and Toji moved like dancers in a deadly ballet, covering each other's blind spots with the instinctive precision that came from months of fighting together. Where Toji's raw physical power created openings, your speed and tactical thinking exploited them. Where your analysis revealed weaknesses, Toji's overwhelming force eliminated threats.

Gojo, meanwhile, was having what could only be described as artistic fun with the curse users foolish enough to challenge the strongest sorcerer in Japan directly.

"You know," he said conversationally while dismantling two attackers simultaneously, "I have to admire the confidence. Misguided, suicidal confidence, but still."

The fight was over in less than three minutes.

When the dust settled, you stood in a conference room full of unconscious or dead curse users, surrounded by the wreckage of what had clearly been an extensive operational planning session. Charts covered the walls, showing surveillance photos of various sorcerer families, attack plans, recruitment strategies.

And in the center of it all, a detailed dossier on your family.

"Well," you said, looking at photos of Megumi leaving school, of you and Toji grocery shopping, of your apartment building from multiple angles. "That's not creepy at all."

Toji's expression had gone very cold as he studied the surveillance materials. "How long have they been watching us?"

"Weeks, looks like," Gojo said, examining what appeared to be a timeline of your daily routines. "Detailed behavioral analysis, threat assessment, contingency plans for multiple scenarios."

"Including kidnapping Megumi," you noted, your voice deadly quiet as you read over one of the planning documents.

The fury that bloomed in Toji's chest was visible, a shift in his entire demeanor that made the air in the room feel electric with potential violence.

"Is there anyone left to interrogate?" he asked with terrifying calm.

"A few," Gojo confirmed, checking the pulse of the nearest unconscious curse user. "Though I should warn you, they're probably not going to be very cooperative."

"They will be," Toji said with absolute certainty.

One of the curse users—a woman in her thirties with the kind of calculating eyes that suggested she'd been important in the organization—was beginning to stir. Toji crouched beside her, his presence alone enough to make her eyes snap fully open with panic.

"Congratulations," he said quietly. "You get to be the one who explains why your organization thought threatening my family was a good idea."

"I... we weren't..." she started, then stopped as she took in the destruction around her.

"Let me be very clear about the situation," Toji continued, his voice never rising above conversational volume. "Your organization invaded my home. Put hands on my sixteen-year-old son. Created detailed plans to kidnap and potentially kill my family."

He leaned closer, and something in his expression made the woman press back against the wall in terror.

"The only reason you're still breathing is because I want to know if there are more of you out there who need to be eliminated. So you're going to tell me everything about the Shadow Collective. Leadership, other operations, future plans. Everything."

"And if I don't?" she whispered.

Toji's smile was absolutely terrifying. "Then you'll discover exactly why they used to call me the Sorcerer Killer."

The woman looked between Toji's predatory stillness, your cold fury, and Gojo's casual examination of the operational documents, and apparently decided that cooperation was her best chance of survival.

"The Collective has cells in twelve cities," she said quickly. "Tokyo was supposed to be a proving ground. Take out a few sorcerer families, demonstrate our capabilities, recruit more members."

"Who's in charge?" you asked.

"Hayashi Kenji. Former sorcerer from the Kyoto school, expelled for unauthorized cursed technique experimentation. He founded the Collective six months ago with backing from some... unsavory sources."

"What kind of sources?" Gojo's tone had sharpened.

"Curse users who've been operating underground for decades. People with money and grudges against the established jujutsu families."

"Where is Hayashi now?"

"Safe house in Shibuya. Building 47 in the commercial district, top floor penthouse. But it's heavily warded, and he's got at least twenty people with him—"

"Had," Toji corrected grimly. "After tonight, he's got significantly fewer people."

The woman's face went pale as she realized the scope of what had just happened to her organization.

"This was just one cell," she whispered. "There are others—"

"Not for long," Gojo said with cheerful finality. "You see, threatening families is where we draw the line. Every cell, every safe house, every member who thought this was a good idea."

"You can't eliminate an entire organization—"

"Watch us," you said flatly.

As you prepared to leave the destroyed conference room, you looked around at the evidence of the Shadow Collective's plans to tear apart the lives of innocent families, and felt nothing but cold satisfaction at what you'd accomplished.

"One down," Toji said, checking his weapons.

"Eleven to go," you agreed.

"This is going to be a long night," Gojo observed, though he sounded more excited than concerned.

As you headed toward the Shibuya safe house to continue your systematic dismantling of the organization that had dared threaten your son, you found yourself thinking about Megumi waiting at home, probably still running data analysis and coordinating intelligence for your mission.

He'd told you to come home safe.

You intended to do exactly that—after you'd eliminated every single person who thought threatening your family was acceptable.

After all, you had something worth protecting.

And anyone who didn't understand that was about to receive a very permanent education.

## Chapter 7: Home Sweet Home

*3:47 AM*

Megumi looked up from his laptop when he heard the apartment door open, relief flooding through him as familiar voices carried down the hallway.

"—told you the roof approach would be overkill," you were saying, laughter in your voice.

"Overkill worked," Toji replied, and Megumi could hear the smile in his father's tone. "Besides, you have to admit the look on their leader's face when we dropped through the skylight was priceless."

"I still think my entrance was more dramatic," Gojo chimed in. "The whole 'domain expansion in a penthouse' thing really set the mood."

Megumi saved his work and closed the laptop, stretching muscles that had gone stiff from hours of data analysis and worry. The intelligence packet he'd compiled on the Shadow Collective's remaining operations could wait until morning. Right now, he just wanted to confirm that his family was home safe.

"Megumi?" you called out. "You still awake?"

"In here," he replied, watching as three slightly disheveled but victorious adults appeared in the living room doorway.

Toji looked like he'd been in a fight—which he had—but he was moving without any sign of injury. You had what looked like plaster dust in your hair and a small cut on your cheek, but you were grinning with the kind of savage satisfaction that meant the mission had gone very well. Gojo looked like he'd had the time of his life.

"Status report?" Megumi asked, though their expressions had already answered his most important question.

"Shadow Collective is no longer a collective," Toji said simply. "Leadership eliminated, remaining cells scattered. They won't be bothering anyone's family again."

"All of them?" Megumi raised an eyebrow. "In one night?"

"Gojo's very efficient when properly motivated," you said dryly.

"I prefer 'thoroughly inspired,'" Gojo corrected. "There's something about people threatening children that really brings out my creative side."

"Speaking of which," Toji said, moving to ruffle Megumi's hair in a gesture that the teenager pretended to find annoying, "you did good work with the intelligence gathering. Made our job a lot easier."

Megumi felt a warm glow of pride at the praise. "Just applied the lessons you taught me about tactical analysis."

"Smart kid," Gojo said approvingly. "Though I should probably head out and let you all get some rest. It's been a long night."

"Thanks," you said, and Megumi noticed the genuine warmth in your voice. "For everything. We couldn't have handled this alone."

"Partners look out for each other," Gojo replied simply. Then, with a grin that suggested he was enjoying some private joke, he added, "Besides, someone had to make sure you two didn't get too distracted by your teamwork to actually complete the mission."

Both Toji and you went slightly pink, which made Megumi immediately suspicious.

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"Nothing," you said quickly. "Gojo's just being—"

"Observant," Gojo finished cheerfully. "You should have seen them, Megumi. Perfect synchronization, flawless communication, finishing each other's tactical plans. It was like watching a very dangerous dance."

"A very dangerous, very intimate dance," he continued, completely ignoring the warning looks he was getting from both parents.

Megumi made a face. "Gross."

"I thought it was beautiful," Gojo said with exaggerated sincerity. "True partnership in action. Really makes you appreciate the power of—"

"Okay!" Toji interrupted. "That's enough commentary from the peanut gallery. Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"Fine, fine. I can take a hint." Gojo headed for the door, but paused to look back at the three of them. "For what it's worth, you've got a good family here. Worth protecting."

After he left, the apartment settled into the comfortable quiet that came after crisis and resolution. Megumi watched his parents—because that's what you were now, really, even if the paperwork hadn't made it official—as they decompressed from the night's events.

"You sure you're both okay?" he asked, noting the way Toji was favoring his left side slightly and the careful way you were moving your right shoulder.

"Just some bumps and bruises," you assured him. "Nothing that won't heal."

"Good. Because I was not looking forward to explaining to the school counselor why my guardian figures kept showing up with mysterious injuries."

Toji snorted. "Fair point. We'll try to be more careful about visible damage."

"Try to be more careful about getting in fights that require dramatic skylight entrances," Megumi corrected.

"Where's the fun in that?" you asked, settling onto the couch beside him.

Megumi was about to respond when he noticed the way Toji was looking at you—soft and proud and something deeper that made his chest feel warm and his brain feel like it needed to be anywhere else.

"You were incredible tonight," Toji said quietly, apparently forgetting that his son was sitting right there. "The way you read that room, found their weak points, adapted when the plan changed..."

"We were incredible," you corrected, reaching up to touch the cut on his jaw with gentle fingers. "I've never felt as safe in a fight as I do when I'm fighting beside you."

"Even when I'm being reckless?"

"Especially when you're being reckless. Because I know you're being reckless to protect the people you love."

And then, because apparently they had completely forgotten that Megumi existed, Toji leaned down to kiss you with the kind of intensity that spoke of relief and adrenaline and emotions that had been held in check all night.

Megumi cleared his throat loudly.

They broke apart, both looking slightly dazed and more than a little embarrassed.

"Right," you said, your cheeks pink. "Sorry. Post-mission adrenaline."

"That's what we're calling it?" Toji asked with a grin that made you swat at his arm.

"Children present," Megumi reminded them pointedly, though he was trying not to smile. There was something deeply satisfying about seeing his father this happy, this settled, this obviously in love.

Even if it was occasionally nauseating to witness.

"Right, sorry kid." Toji settled on the other side of you, his arm automatically going around your shoulders in a gesture that had become natural over the months of living together. "We'll try to keep the gross couple stuff to a minimum."

"I appreciate that," Megumi said dryly. "Though I should probably warn you that your definition of 'minimum' and mine might be different."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Megumi said, closing his laptop and gathering his things, "that you two have been giving each other heart-eyes since you walked through the door, and it's only going to get worse now that the adrenaline is wearing off."

"We do not give each other heart-eyes," you protested.

Megumi looked between you and Toji, both of you sitting close together on the couch, Toji's thumb unconsciously stroking your shoulder while you leaned into his warmth with the kind of contentment that came from being exactly where you belonged.

"Sure," he said. "Whatever you say."

As he headed toward his room, he heard you ask quietly, "Do we really give each other heart-eyes?"

"Constantly," Toji replied, and the warmth in his voice made Megumi smile despite himself. "It's disgusting. I love it."

"You love being disgusting?"

"I love being disgustingly happy."

Megumi closed his bedroom door and put on headphones, deciding that some conversations were better experienced with a soundtrack that wasn't his parents being adorable.

But as he settled into bed, listening to his father's quiet laughter and your responding giggle through the walls, he couldn't help but feel grateful for the chaos that had brought this strange, dangerous, wonderful family together.

Even if they were occasionally too cute for his sanity to handle.

Outside his window, Tokyo slept peacefully, unaware that three people had spent the night eliminating threats and came home to each other with hearts full of love and relief.

It was, Megumi thought as he drifted off to sleep, probably the best possible ending to what could have been a very different kind of night.