39

We settled into the plush chairs of the hotel lounge, the opulent surroundings a major change to the grimy sewers that we just finished showering to scrub the scent from our very souls.

I felt good about wrecking Mahito, but I can't help the feeling that shit is about to get real.

"We can't keep this up," Miu stated, her voice firm despite the exhaustion etched on her face. "Gojo will catch on eventually. He's not stupid."

Nobara nodded in agreement, fiddling with the sapphire Tojo pin on her lapel. "Yeah, that blindfolded weirdo is bound to figure out we're not exactly following orders."

She rose from her seat, stretching languidly. "I'm going to freshen up. Don't plan anything too crazy without me."

With a wink, she sauntered off towards the ladies' room, leaving Miu and me to continue our discussion.

"She's right," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Gojo will figure out we're acting independently sooner or later."

Miu leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with a mix of determination and frustration. "Then we need to make him understand. We need to make him see that we can handle things on our own, that we're not just helpless students."

"But how?" I questioned, skepticism lacing my tone. "What could we possibly say or do that would convince Gojo to back off?"

Miu's brow furrowed in thought. "I don't know the specifics about the anime you saw," she admitted, "but we need to make it clear that we're serious, that we're not playing games. We're fighting for the same cause, and we're not going to let anything stand in our way. Can you tell him something that might get him off our backs?"

I nodded slowly, appreciating her resolve and quick wit.

While she might not have the answers, I certainly did.

I sighed, "Alright," I conceded, a plan forming in my mind.

"Leave it to me. I'll come up with something that will get Gojo's attention and make him understand that we're not to be underestimated."

Miu's face brightened, a relieved smile replacing her frown. "I knew you'd figure it out, Zack," she said, her voice filled with trust and admiration. "Together, we can handle anything."

I decided to separate from the others for a moment.

I had a letter to write.

3 minutes later.

I sat at the small desk in the hotel room, a blank sheet of paper and a pen sitting in front of me. "Here goes nothing."

The weight of responsibility pressed down on me as I contemplated the words I needed to write, the delicate balance between truth and deception that could determine our life and death.

Taking a deep breath, I began to craft the letter, weaving a narrative that would capture Gojo's attention and manipulate his ego without revealing too much.

"Gojo-sensei," I wrote, my penmanship neat and precise, "I'm writing to you because I believe I have information that could be crucial to the future of the Jujutsu world."

I paused, choosing my next words carefully.

"As you know, I'm a huge fan of the 2005 Jujutsu Kaisen anime," I continued, laying the groundwork for my fabrication.

"In my original world, I stumbled across, a preview, the trailer for the next season of the anime, set years after the events we're familiar with."

"In this preview," I wrote, my hand trembling slightly as I penned the most crucial detail, "I saw a Suguru Geto. But something was off in the trailer. You say something like, 'You really aren't him are you?'.

He laughed as he unzipped the skin and skull on his forehead, revealing- something else entirely residing inside his skull. A brain with a smile and strange markings. It was Kenjaku, his- whatever the hell it was supposed to be- twisted in a cruel, mocking grin, as if reveling in the deception and-"

"Gojo-sensei," I concluded, my tone shifting to one of urgency and determination, "I don't think it's a good sign for the world if the anime that represents it is canceled after the trailer reveal."

I signed the letter with a flourish, a sense of both trepidation and anticipation washing over me. The fate of our mission, our very lives, might hinge on Gojo's reaction to this letter.

I had only been gone a few minutes, Nobara was seemingly still in the washroom.

"Do you really think that will work?" Miu asked, her voice laced with a hint of uncertainty as I sealed the envelope containing the letter to Gojo.

I leaned back against the plush headboard, exhaustion tugging at my eyelids. "It has to," I replied, my gaze meeting hers with a determined glint. "It's our only chance to maintain our independence and continue our mission without too much interference."

Miu's brow furrowed, her expression thoughtful. "But what if he doesn't believe you? What if he sees through the whole 'anime trailer' story and realizes that he's only a prequel character, not the main character?"

"He's arrogant," I reminded her, a sly smile playing on my lips. "He believes himself to be the strongest, the pinnacle of Jujutsu sorcery. The idea that he could fail, that he could lose... it will gnaw at him. He won't be able to resist investigating, digging deeper."

"And what about the part with. Geto?" Miu's voice softened, a flicker of sadness crossing her features.

I reached out, my hand gently cupping her cheek. "I know it's a painful subject," I said softly, "but it's the key to convincing Gojo. The thought of Kenjaku defiling his best friend's body, mocking his memory. it will enrage him, drive him to action. It doesn't hurt that that was what happened and I'm not exactly lying about that part."

Miu leaned into my touch, her eyes closing for a moment as she absorbed the weight of my words. "You're right," she whispered, her voice laced with a quiet resolve. "We have to use every advantage we have, even if it risks him directing his ire on us."

"Wait, what do-"

I am interrupted by Nobarra storming in front of us with tears in her eyes and panic on her face.

"What the hell was that all about?" she demanded, her voice trembling with barely suppressed emotion. "Are you telling me that we're all just... fictional characters? That our lives, our experiences, are nothing more than a story someone made up?"

Miu and I exchanged a worried glance, "Nobara," I began, choosing my words carefully, "it's not that simple."

I stood up and slowly stepped forward, my hand reaching out to gently touch Nobara's arm. "Nobara, listen to me," I said softly, my voice filled with empathy and understanding. "We might come from a different reality, a reality where our lives were once part of a story, but that doesn't mean we're not real. We're here now, in this world, experiencing life just like you."

"But how is that possible?" Nobara questioned, her voice cracking slightly. "How can a story- become real? Am I even a living person?"

I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain the unexplainable. "Think of it like- echoes, ripples in the fabric of reality. events of one world, one universe can bleed through into another, Just because those echoes popped into the head of an author, doesn't mean the world they saw in their minds wasn't real."

"And we're just echoes?" Nobara asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"No," Miu interjected firmly, her eyes meeting Nobara's gaze with unwavering conviction. "We're more than that. We have our own thoughts, our own feelings, our own choices. We're not bound by the story, by the expectations of others. We're free to forge our own path, just like you."

A long silence stretched between us, the weight of the revelation hanging heavy in the air. Then, slowly, Nobara's tense posture began to relax, her expression softening as understanding dawned in her eyes.

"So. we're not fictional," she murmured, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "We're just so unique that an author chose us out of all the people in a world to write about."

Miu and I nodded, relief washing over us as the tension dissipated. Nobara stepped forward, her arms wrapping around us in a tight embrace.

"Well, then," she said, her voice muffled against my shoulder, "I guess that makes us the most badass group of unique individuals this world has ever seen."

We held each other close, making sure Nobara felt as real as possible.

Because she was real for the people who lived in this world, and that's what mattered.

30 minutes later.

I shove the letter into the Vice- executive's hands.

I stared him dead in the eye. "If this reaches anyone's hand but Satoru Gojo's, everyone in the Tojo clan will die. If you screw up- well, don't screw up."

Sweat beads down his head, he bows, and then rushes off with urgency.