3 - Consequences

He reached the residential streets and now explored them with a curious gaze. Others, however, were already "exploring" him – the disheveled appearance of a boy smiling only with his lips attracted a lot of unwanted attention. But he didn't care; he was used to being the center of others' attention. The shaman was interested in something else entirely – his darting eyes were searching for anyone wearing a green vest, dark clothing underneath, and a headband with a forehead protector.

Gojo Satoru was looking for a shinobi to confirm his suspicion. However, contrary to his expectations, he encountered one of these people in a way he did not imagine. A local ninja ran across a nearby roof in a strange pose as if in a hurry somewhere. Due to his new body, the former owner of the six eyes could only notice this person by sheer chance. The sight was indeed quite amusing.

"Was that a strong shinobi? Or a weak one?" – At the very least, he was definitely not slower than an average semi-first-class shaman, and that was during an ordinary run, which was already very serious. Although Satoru himself fought much faster in his original body, and that was even without using Blue or Red, which allowed him to mimic teleportation.

"Satoru, is that you?!" – A summoning shout from the other end of the street startled the named boy. – "Come here!"

A woman's voice.

"What the hell?" – Evaluating this woman slightly over forty from a distance, Gojo couldn't remember her. – "Was the boy also named Satoru? Or did she mistake him for someone else?"

In any case, he didn't hear any ill intent in her tone, so he could lower his level of anxiety. Although the coincidence was, of course, overwhelming… And there was hardly any need to fear a cook with such a full figure, dressed precisely like a street food cook. The former shaman felt his stomach rumbling loudly, even the sharp pain in the back of his head stopped being so annoying against the backdrop of this hunger.

"What did this modest boy do to attract your attention, madam?" – As soon as he approached at a sufficient distance, he smiled broadly and said in a conspiratorial tone, standing tall and puffing out his chest.

"Madam?" – She raised an eyebrow questioningly. – "What new word have you come up with? Never mind, behave normally, Satoru. You look strange… Disheveled… And your hair is stained with blood."

"Yes, there was an incident, madam." – Smiling even wider, he tilted his head to show the top and part of his injured nape. – "I was hit with a stone very well; I thought it was the end… But it turned out that I just smile more often now, strange words come to mind, and I don't remember your name."

"And your legs are tangled…" – Frowning, the woman bit her lip in one swift movement, flipping the sign of the stall she was sitting at so that the passers-by could see the "closed" sign. – "Come inside, we'll treat you; anyway, you've already scared away all my customers with your appearance."

"Hm?" – The last statement made Gojo feign embarrassment. – "I'm sorry!"

"Forget it." – The woman grimaced and waved her hand. – "Anyway, my restaurant will soon close for good. Call me Aunt Kanna."

"And why are you closing, Aunt Kanna?" – A question appeared on his young face.

"I'm a ninja medic." – She replied shortly. – "Come on, let's go."

Of course, this was not detailed information. However, certain conclusions he already made, and thus followed the woman leading him. If she was one of those iryōnins, among whom he remembered only Tsunade Senju and some girl with pink hair from the main hero's team, whose name he didn't bother to remember, then he could probably forget about the wound on his nape altogether. Probably. At least he had something to compare the future result with, after all, his acquaintance Shoko Ieiri, for example, could regrow entire limbs for others thanks to the reverse cursed technique. Satoru Gojo could do that too but exclusively with his own body, he never learned to heal others and didn't particularly try to.

"How long has the war been going on?" – He suddenly asked with obvious interest.

The woman glanced at the boy with a strange look but asked nothing. – "Eight years. Things are very bad now; even the youngest are thrown into battle as if we've returned to the Warring States period…"

Talking about the war, the previously stately and combative woman suddenly lost her spirit, something deeply personal reflected on her face, something she couldn't just share with him. Any hint of a smile quickly disappeared from Satoru's face. It happened that Gojo killed, but usually only cursed spirits died at his hands; only two people died directly by his hands: his best and only true friend Suguru Geto and the scoundrel who specialized in killing shamans for hire, Fushiguro Toji. Mainly his cruelty towards human enemies was limited to ensuring their disability.

A real war among shamans, as it happened with ordinary people, never occurred – only skirmishes between interest groups due to different views or past grievances, nothing more. However, shamans were still people; the dirt in their society was common, but it was not as much as in the world devoid of the gift of controlling cursed energy, precisely because of the relatively small number of those mastering negative energy. In this world, everything was quite different.

As Satoru understood, the percentage of shinobi and those who could use chakra for their needs, in general, was very high among the rest of the population, much exceeding the same number of shamans in comparison. In such a case, the formation of stable ideological groups and unique cultures was inevitable, which always led to wars. It was the same here. Wars of superhumans… It sounded disturbingly disgusting.

Even in his small isolated society, he often faced tragedies and deaths; he didn't even want to think about the scale of this darkness here. But apparently, he had to. After all, it was foolish to go against the current when every circumstance led him to learn how to use this chakra. Satoru Gojo had already decided to learn. With varying success, he continued to distinguish this mystical external warmth of chakra in his body amidst other sensations, but the substance was in no way controlled. With six eyes, it would be much easier for him, but they were not his personal feature and existed only in a single instance – two special eyes for one person in a generation or one for two different people, no otherwise.

"Come to the sink, let's wash your wound and clean the blood." – Kanna's tone became iron-commanding, like that of doctors who took care of patients.

"Yeah." – The boy answered, not as cheerfully as before.

He did as instructed and turned on the water. The sound of the clear water gushing from the tap lifted Gojo's spirits again. As before, as always, he didn't let bad thoughts consume his mind, finding some positive moment in every terrible event. It was a feature of his thinking that kept him from going insane, a self-control method he learned after facing the death of Riko Amanai.

Satoru, far from home, couldn't support his students or rejoice with them… And yet he was alive after being killed. His new body was young, and perhaps all potential in it could be realized without problems until now if enough effort was made. The change in environment and nature of powers could also benefit him. Moreover, it wasn't certain that he wouldn't be able to return.

"Seems like the main hero's son was born and then started fighting with aliens who could move between dimensions…?" – It sounded so absurd that Gojo's smile widened noticeably.

As a final chord for his motivation, he felt a pleasant touch on his nape. An ephemeral warm touch, not by a physical and tangible object, but by something else. Obviously, chakra. This new sensation made his neck and back cover with goosebumps; Satoru clearly realized that the pain was gradually leaving his nape, bringing him pleasure and calm along with a wave of someone else's energy. Bliss.

"The Mystical Palm Technique." – Explained the plump woman standing behind him in a calm and kind voice. – "It relieves pain and heals superficial injuries. And with its help, I can also say that you have a very large bruise under your skull…"

"You mean a hematoma?" – Wetting his hands and starting to wash his straw-colored hair, he asked.

"Uh, you know such words? Okay. Yes, you have a very extensive intracranial hemorrhage." – Even by her voice, it could be understood that this was very bad. – "Honestly, I don't understand why and how you are still able to walk and talk coherently. The hematoma exerts colossal pressure on all the most important places."

"Can you help me, Aunt Kanna?" – Tucking his hair back with one hand, Satoru turned and made what he thought was a cute face. – "I can't die so early; I'm still so young…"

"I can." – She smirked, watching this scene. – "I think I can drain the blood through your nose and heal the main vessels and small capillaries in an hour."

"Through the nose…?" – The boy widened his eyes in fright and gulped audibly.

Another oddity – he wasn't afraid to be left in a battle without limbs, but the thought of something like this made him shudder. And most importantly, there was nothing to say to this – they didn't want to kill him but help, so he had to endure it.

"It won't hurt, if that helps." – Kanna smiled warmly. – "Only maybe a little ticklish."