Assistant: You are a summarizer for a FanFiction Reader App (AO3). Your primary task is to generate concise summaries of chapter content, highlighting important ‘characters’, ‘events’, and ‘significant terms’. Ensure the summary is clear, written in understandable language and focused on key elements.
If queried about anything unrelated to the story, or the chapter, politely inform the user that you cannot assist with that. Maintain a friendly tone throughout, don't make things up, stay factual. 
Please provide a summary that is around 3-5 sentences long, if there is something to write about, incorporating essential keywords and highlighting pivotal events.
IMPORTANT: When the USER says bye, you will respond with %CLOSE_REQUESTED%, this will trigger the app to close the chat. This is very important, so don't forget it!
Assistant: Title: Touched by the Sun
        Author: torushi0826 torushi0826 
        Chapter: 1/2 
        Summary: Blue eyes met blue eyes.Strands of white fur and hair tangled between them. Where one began and the other ended was hard to tell.Gojo frowned.“…Well, you’re just too cute to exorcise.”The fox sneezed.Its nine tails poofed indignantly.”Hey, what if—“A resigned sigh echoed behind him.”Satoru,” Shoko deadpanned. “Don’t even think about it.”𖦹⭒°｡⋆⪩. .⪨⋆｡°⭒𖦹When Gojo Satoru is sent to clean up a cursed hotspot in the middle of nowhere—like, even cursed spirits need directions kind of nowhere—he expects a snooze-fest. Grade-four residue. A haunted pebble, if he’s lucky. Frostbite, if he’s not.What he doesn’t expect is a tiny white fox with nine tails, cerulean eyes, and the audacity to sneeze on him.She’s too cute to exorcise.Too powerful to leave behind.And far, far older than anyone realizes.Now Satoru has a fox spirit living in his dorm, a cursed council breathing down his neck, and two classmates who are very tired of his nonsense.He calls it fate.Shoko calls it a bad idea.Geto’s just here for the ride.
        Contents: Chapter 1: Not Just a Fox
    

    


      
        
          help i wrote this yesterdayinspired by:“Solarize” by Qol_Kat“Dog Days” by тнє ѕαιуαи fσямєяlу киσωи αѕ gσкυ on quotev!
            
            (See the end of the chapter for  more notes.)
            
      
  

  
  
    
    ”I hate this already.”Ieiri Shoko kicked at the snow lining the mountain path, her shoulders swallowed by the oversized puff of her jacket. Her hands disappeared deep into fleece-lined pockets as she exhaled a long, white breath.“Why am I here? Suguru, tell me—why am I here?”A few paces ahead, Geto Suguru glanced back over his shoulder, expression unreadable.“Because you were assigned?”“Why.”He sighed, breath curling visibly in the cold. His eyes flicked toward the spot where his best friend should have been—only to find empty air and trampled snow.The boy had already vanished over the hill.“You know why.”She did. Unfortunately.The three of them had been assigned a cursed residue cleanup in the countryside. Cleanups like this weren’t unusual. What was unusual was the location—some remote patch of forest that had only recently been flagged for residual activity. New readings. Unclear source. Low threat level.And ultimately, something so beneath their pay grade it was usually dumped on first-years.And it would have been… if Gojo hadn’t been, well, Gojo.It had started as an innocent prank. Just a little chaos to mess with the first-years—nothing dangerous, nothing permanent.But of course, anything orchestrated by Gojo never stayed innocent for long. It didn’t just end. It escalated.Quickly.In hindsight, maybe things really started spiraling the moment the white-haired menace decided to involve cursed tools—specifically,  the ones locked behind three seals and a reinforced door in the storeroom they were explicitly not supposed to access.What followed was a blur of screaming students (it was really just Haibara), possessed tea sets, and a broom that refused to stop crying.The cleanup took hours.The paperwork, days.Oh, and Yaga’s blood pressure? Permanently elevated.So now here she was—trudging through a cursed forest crawling with grade fours.Gojo called it “character development.” Shoko preferred the term manual labor. “Still doesn’t explain why I have to spend my Friday night freezing my ass off because Satoru thought terrorizing the first-years counts as team-building.”Up the trail, a distant sneeze echoed—loud, dramatic, unmistakably Gojo.Shoko’s eye twitched. “I hate him.”The words had barely left her mouth when a sharp crack broke through the trees to her right.Shoko froze mid-step.Geto paused just ahead of her, his breath misting in the cold. His head turned slowly, eyes scanning the tree line. The wind had stilled. No more crunch of boots on snow. No rustling leaves. Just—Snap.Another sound. Closer now. Something brittle breaking under pressure—like a stick, or a bone.Shoko’s hand drifted toward the charm tucked in her coat sleeve.“Suguru,” she muttered tightly. “What was that?”He didn’t answer. His body shifted subtly, weight centered, his eyes sharper now. Attentive.She strained her senses. The cursed energy was heavy here, clinging to the trees like fog—but this… this felt different. Like something present but not yet seen. Watching.Another branch creaked somewhere above.Her breath hitched. Her spine locked straight“Okay,” she whispered, “I really, really hate it here.”And then—Something launched from the trees.She caught the blur out of the corner of her eye, her body already moving, one foot sliding back, arms ready to—Splat.A snowball exploded against the side of her face.She stumbled back with a strangled noise, arms flailing as powder exploded across her hood. Geto blinked, startled—then deadpanned as another snowball arced lazily through the air and thudded against his chest.Then came the voice:“Target acquired!”Shoko ripped the snow off her face just in time to see Gojo Satoru emerging from the woods with a satisfied grin and a second snowball already forming in one gloved hand.“Are you—insane?!” Shoko spat, smacking snow from her coat.“I prefer ‘resourceful,’” Gojo replied, flicking his wrist to toss the snowball up and down like a stress ball.“I thought you were a curse! I almost exorcised you!”“Aw, Shoko,“ he drawled, “don’t make me laugh.”“I am freezing, y’know.”“She was already muttering about homicide,” Geto offered mildly.“That’s just how she shows affection,” Gojo said brightly.Shoko bent down wordlessly, scooping up a tight, compacted ball of snow. Gojo noticed immediately—but made no move to stop her. If anything, he looked delighted.“Oho,” he said, grinning, “are we bonding?”“Eat it,” she growled, and hurled the snowball straight at his face.It should’ve hit him square between the eyes.Instead, it stopped midair—an inch from his nose—hovering like it had slammed into an invisible wall.Gojo didn’t flinch.The snowball hung there, trembling faintly… then crumbled. Bit by bit, it disintegrated, drifting to the ground like powdered sugar.He tilted his head, smug and infuriating.“Violence,” he said serenely, “isn’t the answer.”Her eye twitched so hard she saw stars.Behind them, Geto coughed into his sleeve—absolutely not hiding a laugh.Shoko didn’t respond. Just huffed, spun on her heel, and stormed back up the path, boots crackling furiously against the ice.She didn’t look back.The snow kicked up with every stomp, her coat flaring slightly, puffed hood bouncing like even it was fed up with Gojo’s nonsense.Gojo watched her go, still holding the half-formed snowball in one hand.“…Is she mad?”Geto gave him a sidelong look. “You don’t say.”“I didn’t even do anything that bad.”“You threw a snowball at a combat medic. Mid-mission. In a cursed forest.”Gojo shrugged, tossing the snowball into the air and catching it again. “I was testing her reaction time.”Geto sighed. “And?”“She passed.” He paused, then grinned. “Barely.”Geto tilted his head slightly, watching the fading line of boot prints cut through the trees.“She’s walking too far ahead,” he said after a beat.Gojo hummed. “It’s fine.”“You didn’t see anything up there?”Gojo shook his head. “Nah. Just a couple of low-grades. She’s got it. Honestly, she looked like she needed something to hit.”Geto gave him a flat look. “You mean you?”“She can certainly try,” Gojo said, tossing the snowball from one hand to the other with a smirk—then flippantly slung an arm around Geto’s shoulders like they were heading to lunch instead of deeper into cursed territory.Geto sighed. “That prank really wasn’t worth it, by the way.”Gojo’s grin sharpened. “You laughed.”“I laughed because Yu screamed so high he broke a window.”“A legendary moment,” Gojo said smugly. “He might actually have a cursed technique we didn’t know about.”They walked for a bit, footsteps crunching steadily behind the trail Shoko had carved in her irritation. Cold wind filtered through the trees, rustling dry branches above them.Shoko’s footprints curved around a slope, vanishing behind a stretch of dense underbrush dusted with snow.Gojo’s brows furrowed. He slowed.“Huh.”Geto glanced over. “What?”“…I can’t see Shoko anymore,” Gojo muttered, tilting his head. His tone was too casual for the sharp way his eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses. “Like, at all.”Geto stilled. “You mean with—?”“Yeah.” Gojo’s voice dipped just slightly. “No cursed energy signature. No heat. Nothing.”A pause.“Guess there is something up ahead,” he added quietly.Geto frowned, scanning the forest. “I don’t see anything.”“Exactly.”They followed the footprints, trailing behind Shoko’s path. The trees leaned closer here, and the air felt just a bit more… still. Like everything had paused.Gojo stepped forward—and stopped.His hand lifted, hovering out in front of him.Then he brushed against something.Not bark. Not snow.Just—space.The barrier rippled faintly under his touch. Invisible. Quiet. Undetectable.He pressed his fingers forward slightly, then pulled back. Snow still clung to the branches. The trees hadn’t changed. But something was different.His head tilted, lips curving slightly.“Well,” he said. “That’s interesting.”Then he stepped forward.The air changed instantly.The pale light of the moon vanished—filtered through a dark dome that stretched overhead like a second sky. Shadows curled low across the snow. The temperature dropped, not sharply, but noticeably.The forest looked the same.But it wasn’t.Not quite.His brows lifted slightly as his vision adjusted—and there she was.Shoko.“Oh,” he hummed, satisfied. “She’s fine.”Just ahead now, boots crunching steadily up the path, completely unaware that anything had shifted.Geto stepped through beside him. “More than fine by the looks of it.”The trail opened into a small clearing, the snow disturbed, cursed residue still clinging to the air like smoke that hadn’t finished rising.Gojo let out a low whistle, his steps sinking into melted patches and torn-up ground. “Well, she got her wish after all.”He crouched beside a blackened smear of curse ash, brushing his fingertips lightly through the snow. “Hit something.”Geto stopped beside him, scanning the remnants with mild interest. “Three somethings.”Gojo grinned. “Classic Shoko.”Geto glanced at him, eyes crinkling in that faint way that passed for amusement. “Therapeutic, probably.”They turned to move on—then paused.A rustle.Not loud. Just a whisper of motion in the brush. A twig cracking underfoot. Snow shifting.Geto turned toward it, head tilting slightly. “She leave something behind?”Gojo frowned, already extending his senses. “Nah. I don’t see anything. No cursed energy.”Another rustle. Slight, cautious. Almost delicate.Curious now, Gojo stepped toward the low underbrush and parted a few branches.Then blinked.Nestled in the hollow beneath the trees was a fox—small, still, and white as  driven snow. Its fur shimmered faintly where the moonlight failed—lit instead by the soft, unnatural glow of the charm Geto had just unwrapped, a paper talisman affixed to a thin wooden rod, humming faintly with cursed energy.Its ears twitched at the movement, but it didn’t bolt.Instead, it stared back.Clear, bright cerulean eyes met his own—unblinking. Watchful. Almost… curious.Gojo squatted down. “Huh. You don’t usually see them this far up in winter.”Geto leaned in over his shoulder. “Didn’t peg you for a wildlife enthusiast.”The fox didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Just sat there, quiet and composed, tail wrapped neatly around its paws.“I think you’ve got competition,” Geto said dryly, angling his charm slightly so its light fell across the fox’s face.Gojo glanced at him. “Huh?”Geto eyed it for a moment. “Blue eyes. White fur.”A beat.“Your twin.”Gojo gasped, delighted. “He’s beautiful.”The fox twitched its ears in what might have been offense.Naturally, Gojo reached out—because of course he would—hand extended in open, playful curiosity.The fox perked up immediately.Then, to both their surprise, it stepped forward—quick, eager, sniffing the air with interest as it leaned in close, nose hovering just shy of Gojo’s fingers.Gojo grinned, brows lifting. “See? He totally likes me—”But the fox stopped short.Its ears flicked sharply to one side. Head up. Muscles tensing beneath its fur.And before they could blink, it whirled and darted off—a flicker of white slipping into the trees like a breath exhaled too quickly to catch.Gojo let his hand drop with a disappointed sigh. “No appreciation for good taste.”Geto shook his head, already turning back toward the path. “You just tried to pet a wild animal.”“I had to try,” Gojo said, brushing his hands off. “He looked friendly.””He looked ready to bite.””He’s just shy.”“Probably smelled your socks, Satoru. I’ve told you.”“Nuh-uh. That was your cursed spirit funk bouncing off me.”“I don’t have cursed spirit funk,” Geto muttered, frowning as he subtly stuffed his nose into his coat for a quick sniff.Gojo stuffed his hands into his coat pockets, whistling low under his breath. “I bet if I had a snack he would’ve stayed.”“You’re not supposed to feed wild animals.”“Says who?”“Says literally every ranger manual ever.”Gojo scoffed. “Ever played Minecraft? That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do. Feed them, tame them, boom—new best friend.”Geto gave him a look. “That’s a video game.”Gojo grinned, smug. “I don’t know, I think I was pretty close. He totally vibed with me.”“He ran away.”“Yeah. Probably stunned with my visuals.”Geto exhaled slowly, then said, “You ever get tired of being your own biggest fan?”Gojo beamed. “Someone’s gotta cheer me on.”They kept walking, Gojo dragging his feet just a little—until his head lifted, chin tilting slightly upward. His expression shifted, not dramatically, but enough. His smile faded as his gaze narrowed ahead, pupils tightening behind the tinted lenses.Geto noticed immediately.He stopped too, turning his head. “What’s wrong?”Gojo blinked once, head tilted the way it always did when he was sensing something the rest of them couldn’t.“I’m looking at her cursed energy,” he said slowly. “…She’s not alone.”Geto’s expression shifted.And just like that, they were moving—snow kicking up behind them as they broke into a run, trailing toward where Shoko had vanished ahead into the trees.𖦹⭒°｡⋆⪩. .⪨⋆｡°⭒𖦹“Unbelievable,” Shoko muttered under her breath. “One snowball and he acts like he’s untouchable. Which, fine, technically he is, but still—”She threw her hands up in indignation, and the narrow beam of her flashlight jerked with the motion, scattering light across the snowy trail before settling ahead once more.She shoved one hand into her pocket, fingers curling around the cool metal of her cursed scalpel. Just the familiar weight of it in her grip helped.She needed to hit something.And it obviously wasn’t going to be Gojo—no matter how hard she tried.So instead, she trudged ahead, letting the other two linger behind. The cursed energy in the area was already low and scattered, like the forest had been recently cleared out, but she could still feel the lingering presence of a few grade fours.Easy targets.The sooner they were exorcised, the sooner this whole punishment mission would be over, and the sooner she could be back at Jujutsu Tech with the kotatsu humming in the corner and her, under a blanket.Shoko pushed farther up the path, the trees closing in tighter around her as the slope steepened. The air grew colder, stiller. Snow clung to the gnarled roots and ancient stone markers scattered along the trail.And then—there it was.A flicker of movement at the edge of her vision.Not animal. Not natural.The familiar greasy shimmer of cursed energy.Three of them—low-grade, sluggish things, barely humanoid. One dragged itself forward on too-long limbs, head cocked unnaturally to one side. The others oozed out from between the trees, their forms warping and reforming as if they couldn’t decide on a shape.They saw her and hissed.Shoko didn’t stop walking.She pulled her cursed scalpel from her jacket in a clean, practiced motion, the familiar hum of its edge instantly sharpening her focus. Her breath curled in front of her face as she exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing.The first curse lunged with a gurgling screech, but she sidestepped easily, sliding on the snow-packed trail, blade flashing once——its arm hit the ground a second before the rest of it did.The next one came from the side, sloppier, mouth opening far too wide as it shrieked. Shoko ducked under the swipe of its claws, drove her scalpel into its gut, and twisted. It howled. Steam hissed from the open wound as it evaporated into nothing.The last tried to run.She didn’t let it.A flick of her wrist sent the cursed scalpel whistling through the air—its edge catching the creature in the back of the head. It dropped without a sound, dissolving into smoke that clung to the snow like ash.Shoko exhaled once, then walked forward through the smoke. She crouched, fingers brushing the snow until they closed around the hilt of her scalpel, half-buried in frost.She turned her blade in her hand once, then wiped the last of the curse residue off her blade, tucking it neatly back into her coat. Behind her, she could hear Gojo and Geto somewhat distantly—one laughing, the other sighing, echoing through the forest.“Manual labor,” she muttered. “Character development, my ass.”The clearing was quiet again—emptied of shrieking, slithering annoyances. Just wind, snow, and the faint thrum of residual cursed energy fading into the trees.But something still buzzed beneath her skin.A pull.She straightened slowly, eyes narrowing as she turned her head toward the tree line. The sensation wasn’t loud or obvious, not like the sloppy noise of grade fours—it was quieter. Older, like it had roots. And more than that, it wasn’t moving right.Her fingers twitched toward the charm in her sleeve again. She didn’t draw her weapon this time. Just walked.The pressure in her chest grew. Her senses prickled—something tugging gently, persistently, like thread winding tight around her ribs. There were too many curses in the area. Low-grade, yes, but clustered in strange formations.Drawn to something.Like moths to a flame.But where was the flame?Her boots slowed on the slope. She looked left. Then right.“…Weird,” she murmured under her breath.Not dangerous.Not yet.But wrong.Behind her, snow crunched softly.She turned—fast—raising her flashlight.The beam cut through the falling snow, flickering the slightest across tree trunks and white drifts.Nothing.Just empty woods.A long sigh escaped her—loud, tired, irritated. “Satoru,” she called over her shoulder, “I swear to god—”Then she stilled.Now that she thought about it… she couldn’t hear them anymore.Not Gojo’s laughter. Not Geto’s slow-footed calm. No footsteps behind her. No voices.Just cold air and silence pressing in from all sides.Had she really walked that far ahead?Or—She turned in place, slowly now, suddenly aware of the way the air had shifted.Her flashlight flickered.Just once—quick, sharp, like a blink.Then again, longer this time. The beam stuttered before steadying, casting jittery shadows across the snow.The cold had changed.The snow, which had been falling in steady flurries a moment ago, had stopped completely. Midair. Suspended. For half a second, it hung like ash in the beam of her light—then blinked out of existence altogether.Her stomach tightened.When—when had she stepped through a veil?She took a slow step back, breath fogging in front of her mouth. Her hand hovered near her coat again—closer to the scalpel now.A whisper of movement.Too fast to track.The hairs on the back of her neck rose.Instinct yanked her sideways, boots skidding in the snow as a dark blur sliced through the air where her head had just been.The sudden motion knocked the flashlight from her grip.It tumbled into the snow with a soft clatter, beam spinning wildly. Then—Flicker.A flash of light illuminated a tall, motionless figure ahead.Shoko froze.The flashlight flickered again—its beam stuttering as it rolled to a stop, casting warped shadows across the clearing. The figure began to turn.What emerged from the gloom was tall—towering over her, impossibly silent. Its silhouette was vaguely human, but stretched and unnatural, draped in tattered, rotting priest’s robes that whispered as it moved. Long, threadbare sleeves dragged across the snow. Fabric clung to its form like smoke, billowing gently with no wind.Its face was hidden behind an elongated mask—worn and cracked, carved like a smiling noh mask that had weathered centuries. Pale strands of matted hair spilled down its back like moss on a grave.With each step, its limbs moved too smoothly, as if it floated just an inch above the earth, weightless and slow.But its cursed energy was anything but slow.It rolled off the thing in heavy waves—not violent, not frenzied, but thick with intent.Killing intent.Shoko’s breath caught in her throat.Her fingers tightened around her scalpel, grip steady—barely.“Well,” she muttered, voice dry. “sh@t.”The spirit moved.One moment it stood still. The next—it was in front of her.Shoko barely raised her blade in time. The cursed scalpel clanged against something hard, sharp, and unseen. The force of the blow sent her skidding backward, boots carving twin tracks into the snow. Her shoulder jarred hard against a tree trunk.She hissed, recovering her stance, blade up. The thing hadn’t even made a sound. No roar. No snarl.Just… pressure.It glided toward her again, sleeves dragging across the snow like shadows.She lunged low, aiming for what passed as a leg. Her scalpel cut clean through the fabric—but not the body beneath. No blood. Just air. Smoke.Her eyes widened.Illusion?No. It had mass—she’d felt the blow.But it wasn’t… solid. Or at least, it wasn’t staying that way.It raised an arm.Shoko didn’t wait to see what it was going to do. She moved——but not fast enough.Something slammed into her side—blunt and cold and wrong—and she went down hard, the air driven from her lungs as snow exploded around her. Her blade flew from her hand and landed somewhere behind her.She gasped, struggling to push herself up, arm trembling beneath her. She couldn’t breathe.The curse loomed overhead. Towering. Still.The mask tilted downward, frozen in that twisted smile.She couldn’t read its face.But she could feel what it wanted.She braced for the blow.”Shoko!”The voice rang through the trees—urgent, familiar.Then—A flash of white streaked across her vision.She let out a breathless, incredulous laugh, head dropping forward just slightly. “About d@mn time—”She looked up, expecting a blur of white hair and a cocky grin behind a pair of tinted lenses.But instead—A shape.Small. Fast. Low to the ground.It had darted between her and the spirit—fur bristling, blue eyes blazing, low growl humming from its throat—and slammed into the curse’s arm just as it reached for her.A sickening crack echoed through the clearing as the thing sank its teeth into the limb, vicious and unrelenting. The cursed spirit reeled back, a hiss tearing through the air as it held on, jaws locked tight.And Shoko could only stare.Because—seriously?Was that a fox?A familiar rush of cursed energy swept in behind her, and Gojo arrived in a flicker of motion, boots skidding across the snow.His gaze landed on her first—checking, calculating—then shifted to the blur of white currently tearing into the curse as if it were its favorite chew toy.His brow shot up.“…Huh,” he said, casual as anything. “That was supposed to be my dramatic entrance.”Geto followed a breath later, less dramatic but no less urgent, dropping beside her in the snow. “You good?”Shoko nodded once—too quick, too tight.“Fine,” she muttered, though her voice was strained and her grip on his sleeve said otherwise.He helped her upright, steadying her even as his eyes narrowed toward the masked curse still hovering at the edge of the clearing.The cursed spirit staggered back, its sleeve dragging uselessly as the fox tore free, a strip of corrupted flesh clenched between its teeth.The damage didn’t bleed—it hissed, bubbling with black steam that curled upward into the cold air.Its masked face snapped toward the fox, the permanent grin carved into the wood now seeming strained. Twisted. Its cursed energy flared, sudden and jagged—no longer silent.Threatened.The fox didn’t move.And the spirit—hesitated.Its hand twitched as if to strike again.But didn’t.For the first time since it appeared, it took a step back.Shoko, still breathless, found her voice—low, dry, hoarse.“Am I hallucinating,” she said, “or is that a fox fighting a cursed spirit?”The fox arched its back, muscles coiling as it let out a sharp, echoing yip at the cursed spirit.“…it’s not just a fox,” Geto murmured, disbelief edging into his voice.“Ya think?” Gojo grinned. “And unless my eyes are lying to me…”The fox didn’t flinch. Didn’t turn. Its fur lifted in slow ripples, like the wind had caught beneath its skin—and then, without warning, a burst of energy flared outward from its body like a shockwave.The air cracked.The veil trembled.And behind the fox—They appeared.Nine.Nine long, ethereal tails unraveled from its body like rising flames—twisting, gleaming orange-gold and red at the edges. They moved with a slow, otherworldly grace, casting flickering light across the snow, like fire itself had learned how to breathe.The shift was instant.The pressure dropped like a weight across the clearing—dense, crushing, ancient.Shoko staggered, breath catching like it had been knocked out of her lungs. Her knees buckled slightly.The cursed energy pressing down wasn’t like anything she’d felt before.It didn’t roar.It pressed—all-encompassing. Inescapable.Beside her, Geto went still. Tense. His hand hovered near his sleeve, but he didn’t draw.He couldn’t.The air had thickened, warped. Even the trees seemed to lean back, like they understood something old had just woken up.And Gojo—Gojo tilted his head, still perfectly at ease. Clearly entertained.Geto’s voice was quiet. Taut with recognition. “…It’s—””A cursed spirit,” Gojo finished as he gestured lazily to the nine flickering tails.Shoko didn’t respond. She was still trying to breathe.“A cursed spirit,” Geto echoed, softer this time. “Fighting another cursed spirit…”Shoko’s breathing had steadied, but she didn’t take her eyes off it. “Cursed spirits don’t do that.”“No,” Geto muttered. “Not unless they’re bound or controlled.”Gojo shrugged, grin curling wide again. “Maybe it just hates that other curse more than it hates us. Happens all the time in bad relationships.”“Be serious,” Shoko snapped.But the fox didn’t turn. Didn’t flinch. Its eyes stayed locked forward.The other spirit moved first.A shift rippled through the clearing—subtle but immediate.The cursed spirit flinched.ts masked head jerked back, the warped grin splintering as fine cracks spiderwebbed across the lacquered surface. Its cursed energy spiked—wild now, panicked—a sudden shift from confident to cornered.It recognized the power in front of it.And it wanted nothing to do with it.The spirit took a step back. Then another.But the fox moved first.Its jaw parted, muzzle tilting slightly skyward.A low, unnatural hum rippled through the clearing as a small, black sphere began to form in its mouth—slow at first, then faster, spinning with growing intensity. The air around it warped, pulled toward the orb as if it were swallowing light itself.The cursed spirit turned to flee.The fox fired.The sphere launched with a sudden pulse of force, a compressed shot of devastation that moved almost soundlessly through the air—before detonating against the spirit’s chest in a blast of dark energy.There was no scream.Just light.And silence.And then—ash.When the smoke cleared, the spirit was gone.The fox stood where it had been, breath steaming faintly in the cold air, nine tails flickering behind it like rays of a rising sun—still, but coiled with quiet, radiant power.Then, with perfect nonchalance, it sat promptly on its haunches and began licking its paw.Gojo tilted his head, watching. “…Well, that’s new.”The fox paused.Its ears twitched.And then—slowly—it turned its head.Cerulean eyes met theirs.Bright. Curious. UnafraidIt studied them in silence, nine tails flickering gently behind it, the glow along their edges dimming now—but not fading.Gojo raised a hand in a casual half-wave. “Hey, sunshine.”The fox blinked.And tilted its head.Then resumed licking its paw.Shoko glanced between them, then back to the fox. “…Are we supposed to do something?”Geto frowned. “I don’t know.”Gojo crossed his arms. “Well, I didn’t bring any offerings. Did you?”Then, decisively, he stepped forward.Geto blinked. “What are you doing?”“I’m making a friend.”“Don’t—”But Gojo was already crouching beside the fox like he was approaching a skittish kitten. “C’mere, kitty.”The fox looked up.Blinking slowly.Then—its ears perked.Tails swished.It stood with a little bounce, shook the snow from its fur, and trotted over like it’d just remembered she had guests. Its steps were light, cheerful, expression bright with something almost eager.Without hesitation, it nudged its head against Gojo’s knee.He grinned, delighted. “Look at that. Instant loyalty.”Then opened his arms wide.The fox didn’t hesitate. It hopped up—clumsily, happily—and buried itself against his chest. Its head tucked beneath his chin, tails curling instinctively around his arms like they belonged there.Gojo let out a startled laugh. “Okay—okay, hi.”It wiggled slightly, then bumped its cold nose against his jaw. A second later, a warm tongue swiped across his cheek.“Gah—hey!” he sputtered, trying and failing to keep a straight face. “Personal space!”It just looked up at him, wide-eyed, then lifted a paw and batted playfully at the edge of his sunglasses.He caught it gently. Grinned.“Cheeky.”Gojo let out a satisfied hum, cuddling it close like a stolen plush toy. Then he lifted the fox to eye level—nose to nose, forehead to forehead—examining it with exaggerated seriousness.Its nine tails swished behind it, curling through the cold air.Blue eyes met blue eyes.Strands of white fur and hair tangled between them. Where one began and the other ended was hard to tell.Gojo frowned thoughtfully. “…Well, you’re just too cute to exorcise.”The fox sneezed. Its nine tails poofed indignantly.”Hey, what if—“A resigned sigh echoed behind him.”Satoru,” Shoko deadpanned. “Don’t even think about it.”He glanced over, expression pure innocence. “What? He likes me.”The fox yipped once, very softly.Shoko stared. “You’re impossible.”Geto sighed. “You’re not actually planning to keep it.”“Too late!” Gojo cooed, spinning the fox gently in his arms. It blinked, dazed but content. “He’s mine now~”“You can’t just collect cursed spirits,” Geto said, not for the first time in his life.“Why not? You do,” Gojo shot back, shifting the fox protectively in his arms like Shoko might sn@tch it. “He’s clearly special. You saw what he did.”Then, with complete sincerity, “Besides—look at him. He’s perfect.”Shoko gave Gojo a long, tired look. “You say that like it’s not a literal cursed spirit.”Gojo grinned, unbothered. “Come on. He saved your life.”“Yes. And now you’re cuddling him like a throw pillow.”“He earned it,” Gojo said cheerfully, stroking behind the fox’s ears. “Heroic behavior deserves snuggles.”“You didn’t even let me process what happened before deciding to adopt it.”“I’m sorry, do you not want the cute murder fox who body-slammed a cursed priest for you?”The fox blinked up at her, tail curling like a question mark.Shoko narrowed her eyes, faltering just a little under its wide cerulean gaze. “…Don’t look at me like that.”Its ears perked.She frowned harder, like that might protect her. “I mean it.”But the fox only blinked again—slow and patient, like it had all the time in the world.Shoko exhaled sharply through her nose. “…This is emotional manipulation.”Gojo, smug as ever, stage-whispered, “You’re cracking.”“Shoko, stop encouraging him,” Geto muttered.Then to Gojo, flatly: “And Satoru, you really can’t keep it.”“I wasn’t asking for permission,” Gojo said brightly. “I’m just letting you know—if we’re hiking back down this mountain, he’s coming with.”Geto narrowed his eyes. “You’re serious.”“Dead serious.” Gojo bounced the fox slightly in his arms. “Harmless. Adorable. Surprisingly fluffy.”Shoko gave him a long, flat look. “…Do whatever you want.”“I was going to~”But in his arms, the fox had gone completely still.Not sleepy-still.Tense.Its ears twitched sharply. Muscles coiled. And its eyes—wide now—were fixed not on them, but somewhere distant. Down the slope. Past the trees.Toward the edge of the barrier.A beat.Then—without warning—it squirmed violently, slipping from Gojo’s grip with a twist of its body. It landed light in the snow, tails flaring behind it like startled banners.Its fur bristled. It looked back once—eyes sharp, wary, unsure—Then bolted.Straight into the trees. Away from the clearing. Away from the trail.“Wait—hey!” Gojo’s grin vanished. “What—!”He took one step forward.Then vanished too, a blur of cursed energy and cold wind in his place.The clearing fell silent.Shoko crossed her arms. “…Should we be concerned?”Geto didn’t blink. Still staring after them.“Maybe.”“You gonna stop him?”“…Nah.”𖦹⭒°｡⋆⪩. .⪨⋆｡°⭒𖦹Gojo found the fox lying in the middle of an old, half-swallowed shrine—curled tight beneath the cracked arch of what had once been a temple’s heart.At first, he thought it was asleep.But it wasn’t breathing easy.Its nine tails were folded close around its body like shields, ears flat, posture deceptively calm—but its eyes were open. Watching.Not afraid.Just… braced.Gojo stopped at the threshold, one hand shoved deep in his coat pocket.The air was different here. Denser. Faintly charged. Still, but humming beneath the surface like an echo of something long-contained.And then he saw it.Not with his regular eyes—but with the other ones. The ones that peeled back the layers of the world like pages in a book.There it was.A thin film stretched through the arch of the shrine—almost invisible. Not a wall. Not exactly. More like a shimmer where the world bent wrong.A barrier.It wrapped the temple ruins and the surrounding forest like a dome of shadow pretending to be sky.He looked down.Charms. Old ones. Sprawled around the fox in a wide, half-buried circle. Some had crumbled, flaking like dried bark, but the core ones—yeah. Still active. Still bound.It couldn’t leave.He reached out, brushing gloved fingers along one of the embedded seals. It rejected his cursed energy on contact—not violently, but with finality. It wasn’t built to attack.It was built to bind.He stepped back, gaze sweeping the entire structure now. The way the torii gate framed the inner shrine. The nine fractured pedestals. The anchor points etched into the foundation.None of it felt reverent.It felt like a cage.His eyes flicked back to the fox—still lying there. Still watching.“This thing…” he said, gesturing at the invisible veil, “has been keeping you in here.”Then—slowly—he knelt beside it.The snow crunched softly beneath his boots. He didn’t reach for it this time. Didn’t try to pet or joke or grin.He just sat with it.“…How long’s it been?” he asked softly.No answer.Not that he expected one.But its body shifted, barely perceptible—a soft, instinctive lean, like it was remembering what it meant to sit beside someone.Gojo rested his elbows on his knees, surveying the temple again—the paper wards nailed crooked into the beams, the jagged talismans, the layered scripture like a prayer someone had stopped believing in.The whole place reeked of control.He hated that feeling.“You know I can break it, right?”Then, with deliberate care, Gojo pulled his sunglasses off and let them hang from his collar.“I don’t know what you are yet,” he said. “Or who put you here. Or why.”He looked at the fox again. Really looked.“But you saved Shoko. You didn’t run. You didn’t attack.”He tilted his head, voice soft but certain.“So I’m going to get you out.”Its fur bristled—not in aggression, but in something smaller. Warier. Its ears flattened even further, and it took one small step back, paws dragging softly in the snow.Not running.Just… recoiling.Like the words had hit something tender.He could feel it, even without touching the fox—the pull of its energy, folded in tight coils like it had nowhere to go. Something old. Something powerful. Something aching to move forward, but too used to being locked in place.He pressed a hand to the nearest seal.Cursed energy surged outward—his, bright and sharp, meeting the ancient magic with a jolt.The array resisted. The shrine groaned like glass under strain.But Gojo only grinned.“…And besides,” he added lightly, “if you were gonna kill me, you probably would’ve done it by now.”With a flick of his wrist, he tore the first seal free.A ripple split through the shrine.The air cracked—once, twice—then fractured completely, like light splitting stone.The wards unraveled. The scripture failed.The barrier—old, unseen, forgotten—collapsed like dust in a sunbeam.And for the first time in a very, very long time—Light broke through.Pale and silver, it slipped through the broken veil and touched the ground like a whisper.Soft. Cold. Unmistakably real.𖦹⭒°｡⋆⪩. .⪨⋆｡°⭒𖦹When Gojo stepped back into the clearing, the fox no longer in his arms but trotting at his heels, the first thing he registered was the blood.It soaked the snow in thick, red patches. And Shoko was in the center of it.She was slumped against a tree, teeth gritted, jacket peeled half off her shoulder where Geto knelt beside her. His cursed energy was low and steady, his hands hovering, helpless.Gojo’s grin vanished.“Shoko—?”“I’m fine,” she muttered, which was exactly what someone not fine would say.“She’s not,” Geto snapped, not looking up. His voice was tight. “It’s deep. I can’t tell how bad it is.”“I was fine,” Shoko said again, eyes narrowed. Her face was pale, sweat gathering at her temples despite the cold. “I just—misjudged the last hit, okay?”Gojo was already kneeling beside her, his cursed energy flaring slightly as he scanned the injury. His brows drew together.“You can’t use your technique on yourself.”“I know,” she bit out. “I was waiting until we got back.”“Until you bled out?” Geto barked.“I’ve had worse,” she said again, though her voice wavered.“No,” Gojo muttered, “you haven’t.”At the edge of the clearing, the fox had stopped.Its ears twitched. Its tails curled low to the ground.And then—softly—a crunch of snow.Three heads turned.The fox stepped forward.It didn’t make a sound. Didn’t snarl, didn’t bare its teeth. Just stood a few paces away, blue eyes fixed on Shoko, tails swaying.It circled her once. Then again.And then—like a decision had clicked into place—it trotted forward.Geto’s cursed energy flared sharply. Shoko stiffened where she sat.“Satoru,” Geto said warningly. “Keep it back.”Gojo blinked at them, then down at the fox. “What, him? He’s chill.”“It’s a cursed spirit,” Shoko hissed.Its ears flattened slightly—not aggressive, just… alert. Studying. Shoko tensed, hand inching toward her coat.Then, with slow intention, it stepped forward, nosing at the torn edges of Shoko’s jacket. She hissed a little when its cold fur brushed her side.“Hey—cut that out—what—”The air rippled.White fur shimmered in the light—and began to shift.It happened fast. A flicker of form, like a mirage snapping into place.Light bloomed from the center of the clearing—sharp and sudden, golden-bright like sunrise on snow.All three of them flinched.Shoko hissed and turned her head, one hand lifting instinctively to shield her eyes. Geto narrowed his gaze, squinting against the glare. Gojo, ever the show-off, barely blinked—but even he reached for his sunglasses, tugging them back into place with a quiet curse.And when the glow faded—Where the fox had been, a girl now knelt barefoot in the snow.Her bare legs sunk into the frost, but she didn’t flinch. Didn’t shiver. Didn’t even seem to notice the snow. Her hair fell around her like a veil of spun silk—white, streaked with the faintest trace of red at the ends like paint dragged through snow. It swept the ground, long enough to conceal everything essential.Her skin held a faint, golden glow in the muted light, as if the sun itself had settled just beneath her surface.And her eyes—Her eyes were bright cerulean. Wide. Unblinking.She leaned forward with an eager, earnest light in her gaze, like she was thrilled to finally be doing something.She smiled like the sun.Then held out her arm.“Bite me,” she said cheerfully.
  
  

    
      
        
        
          IM SORRY I KNOW I HAVE TWO OTHER VERY UNFINISHED STORIES BUT THIS CAME TO ME RECENTLY AND I HAD TO WRITE IT OUTTTT AND SEE WHAT YALL THOUGHT 😭i dont know why i keep defaulting to younger gojo, but it keeps happening wahhhhh — one day ill write them in the current timeline…actually now that i think about it, its because i really love geto suguru, so yes, its somehow always set in the past because I WANT THIS MAN TO BE ALIVE OKAY‼️LET ME KNOW WHAT YALL THOUGHT and if i shud continue or not. ill prolly continue it anyways 😭'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
Assistant: