Chapter Text
You hated your family. They sent you off to this country when you were born. You hated them so much. Was it because they sent you off or they were made to? You heard and know that your grandparents want you here. They’re the ones who raised you. They weren’t the best people either. They threw massive responsibility in your hands. They forced you to do things that hurt you, that you never would have wanted.
You hated being a jujutsu sorcerer. You hated the missions. You hated when you get injured. You hated pain. It doesn’t matter if being one means helping hundreds of people. It doesn’t matter. You didn’t want to be one. You didn’t want to be brought to this godforsaken world. You just wanted to have peace and no other.
Your grandparents are the head of L/N clan. Your clan is a fragile one. One of the oldest but also the one clan that birth to a lot of offspring with no curse energy. That was why your parents was sent off in a different country. They didn’t have any curse energy at all. They are cased to the side with banishment. Your birth is just a normal occurrence of a child born in a line where a generate is skipped. Your birth was felt, thus you were sent here.
To suffer.
You’ve never felt happiness. All you do is follow what they wanted you to do. To follow so you can evade a greater amount of pain than what you already receive. Despite all that, you’ve receive too much physical pain. Too many scars that lined your back and arms and thighs. Parts around your body that you could easily hide with clothes. You hated it so much. Reflection, your cursed technique is called, is something you loathe.
You hated the scars that you have tattooed to cover them up. Tattoos hurt but at least that pain is something you wanted. Something you choose yourself to receive. It hid your scars. It helps you look at yourself in the mirror instead of breaking it apart.
You felt so fucking lost. You are an adult, but you are a marionette. You’ve done everything that your grandparents and other elders of your clan told you to do. You’ve made your name stand out in jujutsu community with how brutal you work, how unfeeling you were. People when they meant you wouldn’t even meet your eyes. If they do, you would automatically look away.
Little did they know, you only acted that way because you are the one scared yourself. You feel everybody looking at you. That if they know you, they will easily try to hurt you. Like your clan does. It was hard for you to speak up, to try to understand what you felt. It will always take you longer to feel you are actually delighted than when you feel fear.
One day, your grandparents only summoned you and told you that they finally arranged your marriage. You couldn’t say anything else as you looked down on your hands. Something heavy has settled on your shoulders and your chest. The mention of the name Gojo Satoru didn’t even made you look at them. Their words, though registering in your head, escapes your other ear. You didn’t even have a choice even its marriage.
For about a whole month, your grandparents are the one who did everything they deemed necessary. It took them a whole month to present you a marriage contract that is already signed by the other party and a band of silver ring. All you can do is stare at the piece of paper in an empty room. You only noticed yourself crying when you were signing your name and tears fell on the paper. Your hands were trembling so much after your put your stamp on the box. You haven’t even met him yet.
You wanted to rip the paper into millions of pieces, but you can’t. You’ve only patted your tears away and let the paper dry right before your eyes. You only left the room without looking elsewhere. You weren’t even aware of the pair of blue eyes that stared at you from afar.
The first time you meet Gojo Satoru he was at least wearing a black suit and tie. You had no idea you were meeting him and you had refused to wear the kimono that they prepared you. If glares could kill, you would have been dead because your grandparents had glared at you so hard. Throughout the meeting, all you did is be so stiff with your head bowed. It wasn’t long until everyone except for your spouse to leave.
“Aren’t you even going to look at you husband?” He asked, his voice carried his playful attitude.
You’ve gaze up to him. Your golden eyes met his gaze from behind the dark tinted glasses he wore. You didn’t know how to react when he lowered the glasses. Your breath caught slightly at how ethereal he looked. The soft white haired looked like its glowing, his eyes were so blue and light that you got captivated by it.
“I look good, don’t I?” He smirked. His intentions of bringing out any reaction from you is clear, but you only looked down on your hands resting on your lap. You heard him click his tongue. “They never told me you’re mute.”
“I’m… not,” you softly said.
“Whatever.”
You didn’t look at him when he stood. You’ve had to grip your hands to avoid flinching. He left you, opening and closing the doors loudly at you. You’ve stayed in your position, counting minutes before the doors were opened again harshly. A hand slapped you. The sting and force almost threw you off across the room.
You couldn’t look up. You couldn’t cover your ears as you receive a kick to your abdomen. Your grandparents are angry at how you are dressed. You really should have worn that kimono. It was your first time not to put on the clothes they put out for you. And it is your mistake. However, it is not like you are wearing casual clothes. Before you can say your apologies, a clan member has already grabbed your arm and started dragging you else where. You wanted to runaway but you had no bone in your body to. You were harshly thrown into one room that smells like blood and dirt.
“Take off your clothes.” The man said.
You just nodded, removing your clothes, and putting them in a basket. Soon, a harsh whip landed onto your back. You had to bit your lip to keep yourself from shouting. You’ve made sure not to activate Reflection. You’ve received ten lashes for not wearing the kimono. The clan member only let you lay down on the bloody floor as your curse energy heal your wounds. You almost fell asleep if not for the man to gently kick your side. You looked up.
“Don’t sleep here, girl.” He muttered. You nodded, sitting up. You ignored how he looked at you while you dress. “Is anyone scheduled for tonight?”
You paused. The ring on your finger turned heavy as the male stepped closer to you. You bit your trembling lip when you felt him pressed against you from behind. You feel his disgusting arousal. You can basically feel it leaking.
“Yes.” You immediately lied, wishing he would back off but he didn’t.
“Well, we finished early here, didn’t we?” His hand slipped underneath your shirt. He is breathing you in. You can push him away, but you know how he will be able to bend the story.
-
When you arrived in your room, you’ve found your things properly packed. A person was waiting for you by your doorway. You just listened when he told you he will take you to Gojo Satoru’s house. It took you an ounce of courage to tell him you will just need to clean yourself. He was kind enough to nod at you telling you that he will load your belongings to the truck.
You couldn’t care less. All you wanted to do is clean yourself of what happened minutes ago. You still feel the ache in your lower body. Being born in your clan, you’ve not only faced physical abuse but also a sexual one. They would touch you as they please, not caring about who you are. Your clan doesn’t respect you one bit.
Soon enough, you finished your bath and you are already riding at the back of the car. What would your husband say about how dirty you are? You didn’t look out the window, you just settled in your seat with your eyes cast down. The ring felt heavy.
Kiyotaka Ichiji, an assistant director in Tokyo Jujutsu School, drove pretty well. He got you to a tall building in no time. You just followed behind him silently until you two arrived in front of the door to the penthouse. He explained that all four rooms here are property of Gojo Clan. He told you about that this particular unit is where you will be staying with Gojo Satoru. He gave you the code and given you your key and card. You just accepted them, eyes drifting at the obviously empty unit. Gojo Satoru is no where.
You just sat quietly on the sofa, watching Ichiji and a few other people bring in your things and unpack them in a specific room. It didn’t took them long enough, especially since they are the ones who packed them. When Ichiji told you they are leaving, you just stared at him. The man hesitantly left you along in the penthouse unit.
By then, it took you hours to realize Gojo Satoru won’t be home for the night. You didn’t bother looking at every corner of the unit and just settled in your room. Feeling the touch on your skin, you started to cry. You wished you were never born, especially not in this kind of world. You wished if you weren’t born that no other child would suffer the same fate as you.
The next day, there are no hints that Satoru would come home. Nor the next. A month has passed until Gojo finally showed up with souvenir treats in his hand. He handed you one box when he found you staring outside from the sofa. You’ve only accepted it, muttering a soft ‘thank you’ before continuing what you were doing.
He didn’t ask you anything. He just went on to is separate room. This is reality, you realized. Being married to the strongest jujutsu sorcerer doesn’t mean shit. It didn’t help you one bit. You still get push around by your clan. Your abuse getting more and more tiring. Every day you get tired from your mission. Every day you get fucked by men you are not married to. Every day you just face the reality of being alone.
For two years of being married to Gojo Satoru, you two barely exchange any words. He might try to kid around but always back away nonchalantly for your lack of response. The rare times you had shared meals with him carry nothing but heavy atmosphere. You never really tried. You never bonded. The number of times you two were out for separate missions isn’t helping too.
“Are you a doll?” He joked one time. Your food has gotten cold because of how slow you were eating today. The questioned confused you so much that you just stared at him. He sighed at you, leaning back. “You are boring. Can’t you even try holding a conversation?” He rolled his eyes at you.
That was the last of it.
He’s been gone for far longer. He didn’t even know how much lashings you took for him. How much you frequented your tattoo artist to fill in the scars that destroyed your tattoos. You felt so… tired. You tugged your hood down over your face, making sure that no one can see your swollen cheek. It has yet to subside. Sometimes your curse energy wouldn’t heal menial injuries such as this. You can still taste the blood in your mouth when you received a back hand from your grandfather.
“Two years of being married and you still don’t have a son?” Your grandfather spat. “Don’t tell me you’re infertile?”
They wanted you to breed with your husband. It is Gojo’s six eyes that they want. His power mixed with your own curse technique. When you told them you haven’t even talked with him properly, they only laughed at your demise. They don’t care about you. They only cared about your cursed technique. Only cared about the unborn offspring you may or may not carry. They only cared about their clan getting alive and getting the most from Gojo clan.
When you reached your penthouse, you are only welcomed with more silence. It took you everything not to make a mess in the genkan. You slipped off your shoes and placed it neatly inside the cabinet. Your husband is still out, doing whatever mission he is task with. You have no idea where he is. You didn’t ask when you saw him stepping from his room and going outside. That was two days ago.
With a thud, you fell down on your knees in the hallway. You started crying. The darkness that surrounds you isn’t helping the darkness you felt. You can still feel the hands of three men on you. They took you earlier in the morning, just before they dragged you to your grandparents for a scolding. You can still feel their seeds seeping out of you.
“Everything hurts. Living is so painful.” You harsh sob wrecked your body. You held a hand over your heart. Your shoulders cave in as you cried harder. “I’m so dirty. I don’t want to live anymore. I don’t want to.” You had gotten further down, your head already touching the floor. “Save me. Please.”
“Save you from what?”
The voice jolted you. Your head raised. Your eyes sought the darkness. You saw nothing. You are about to stand when the lights was turned on. You saw your husband standing by the doorway to the living room. A towel over his head. You felt bare. You saw how his light blue eyes trail at your never-ending tears until his gaze stopped at your swollen cheek. His eyes narrowed at it. Is he angry?
You looked away. You felt embarrassed and exposed. He wasn’t supposed to know about this side of yours. You wiped your tears, grabbing the edge of your hood to pull it further down to hide yourself. You tried to stop your cries, but you couldn’t. How can you stop when everything really hurts.
“Please don’t look.” You pleaded through your tears. You just couldn’t stop crying. You never been so exposed to anyone before. There was no one who had found you crying on your own. “I’m sorry. Can you please give me a moment—”
Warm arms wrapped around you. Your eyes widened before you cried harder. Gojo Satoru felt impossibly warm around you. Your trembling hands gripped at his shirt. He is a stranger to you. But why does he feel so warm? He held you tighter by the second. For the first time, you didn’t feel the disgusting touches on your skin.
“Who hit you?” He asked.
You didn’t answer him. You heard him click his tongue. You whimpered at him, gripping his shirt tighter. He moved you away, holding your chin with his thumb and forefinger. He tipped it up so he can look at your swollen cheek. You coldnt understand the emotion that passed his eyes so you looked away. His thumb brushed against it.
“Was it from your mission?” He pried. You kept your silence, tears still fell from your eyes. “Look at me.”
You did, when you heard his tone got harder. You saw his eyes twitch. You must’ve looked so disgusting. You have snot almost dripping from your nostrils. Fat tears running down your cheeks. Who would want a wife like you? You reached up, pushing him away to wipe your tears with your sleeve. You sniffled. You scooted back, finally feeling the disgusting feel of semen dripping out of you. You felt so ashamed.
“Sorry, I have to clean myself.” You shakily stood up.
You froze when his hand shot up to grab your arm. You started trembling, freezing in your spot. The thought of him touching you pass by your mind when he stood. You couldn’t look at him. He stepped closer to you and you flinched when he leaned down. Your action made him pause.
“What the fuck is up with you?” He asked.
“It’s nothing.” You blurted out, taking your arm back from him. You didn’t look at him as you race towards your room.
The first thing you did is take a shower. You scrubbed your body clean. You made sure there is not an ounce left from the three men that took you in the morning. You shuddered just thinking about them. After so long in the shower that your hands got pruny, you finally decided to step out and dry yourself. You wrapped yourself in the towel, avoiding the mirror on your way out.
A whistle made you look up. Gojo Satoru is laying down on your bed and looking at you. “Looking good.” He gave you a thumbs up. You failed to comprehend what he want to imply. “I complimented you.”
“Oh… thank you.” You muttered, not moving from your spot. He turned on his side, looking at you more intently. Your head tipped to the side when he looked down from your face to your shoulders where your tattoos peak from the back. Then down. He looked at you from head to toe. Your lips parted, an idea passed by your head. You undid the knot of your towel, letting it drop. You saw how his eyes widened as he sat up.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He looked away. “I like looking at woman, but what the hell? You moved so fa—”
“Didn’t you come here for sex?” You asked. He looked back at you, blue eyes meeting your golden ones. You forced yourself to walk towards him. He didn’t say anything so you crawled towards him. His eyes fell down at your breasts. You knelt in front of him. “Well?”
“I came here to check up on you…” He frowned, looking at your body intently. You saw his blue eyes travelled to the bruises on your neck, to the hickeys on your breasts, to your bruised hips and inner thighs. You looked away, spreading your legs for him.
“I cleaned myself.” You muttered, tears in your eyes. “You don’t have to worry.”
His eyes rose to meet yours. You didn’t bother understanding the look he is giving you. You only gazed away. What does he want from you? You reached down wit one hand and spread yourself open. Men in your clan wanted you to show yourself. You saw him lift a hand in your peripheral making you draw in a sharp breath.
“Goddamn it.” He cursed, throwing a sheet over your body. You looked at him. “Who fucking touched you?” He asked you, a deep frown on his face.
You didn’t say anything. You took his rejection to heart. You only crawled away and stood to wear some clothes. You can feel his gaze on you. At the way, all of you back to the back of your thighs and arms are covered by tattoos. One might think you are part of a yakuza. Soon enough you heard him laugh.
“Who are you sleeping with? You’re my wife. Aren’t you even ashamed?” His words made your chest tightened. “They gave me a fucking slu—”
You fell on your knees, hugging yourself. You started crying. You started thumping your head softly against your cabinet. His words hurt. You didn’t know what else to do. Your hands unconsciously scratched at your skin, at your nape, as you bowed your head lower like you are folding yourself to the ground.
“H-hey.” He called out but you only cried harder.
“I’m sorry for being dirty. I’m sorry.” You muttered. You doubted your voice can reach him. It was too quiet underneath your sobs. “I’m sorry.” You rubbed at your chest. It really feels heavy. You felt their hands everywhere on your skin. You whimpered, scratching at your skin harder.
“Y/N.”
His voice called out to you but you couldn’t hear him. All you can hear is men laughing at how much of a whore you are. You remembered how scheduling your night has become a thing. You remembered how they would mock how wet you get after touching your for almost half an hour. You remembered how they first started touching you when you were still a kid.
“HEY!” Satoru pulled you and gathered you in his hands. You pushed him, trying to keep him of your disgusting body. “I see, I get it.”
You shook your head. How can he get it? You cried against him, as he carried you to your bed. You couldn’t look at him as wrapped his arms around you.
“Do you have names?” He asked. You hiccupped, shaking your head. You couldn’t even look at them in the eye. “Does your clan know?”
You turned around and slipped your arms around his waist ang just hugged him. You never had someone who ask about anything about you. But somehow you are scared to tell him anything. He smelled like soft fabric softener. It is comforting. You feel so tired. You felt his hand wonder on your shoulders. Pressing your eyes closed when traced along the scar underneath the ink.
“Gojo Satoru, can you protect me?” You looked up at him. He gazed down on you. “Someone always pick me up at 9 AM. Will you tell him to go away?”
“What’s with tomorrow?”
“Something horrible.” You held him tighter, relishing his warmth. You can’t tell him what the three males have told you while you were at their mercy.
“All right.”
You thanked him. Over and over until you finally fallen asleep in his arms. For the first time in ages, you are able to sleep without nightmares plaguing your mind.