"flowers fall, clouds disappear, can my heart be understood."
ink fills the sea of your dreams, while scrolls cover the land of your nightmares.
[contains spoilers for jjk 0 and the manga]
[jujutsu kaisen x onmyoji]
[jujutsu kaisen belongs to akutam...
You're taken to a place called Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College. It's a big place on the mountains, filled with buildings built in traditional Japanese architectural style and surrounded by trees.
You're mesmerised. Never in your life had you seen something so big, but then again, never in your life were you taken so far away from your house.
The white haired man brings you in, kind enough to carry you once again due to how inconvenient leaning down to hold your hand was. He brings you through the maze of buildings into the tallest building, brings you up the stairs and into a room with all of three people excluding him and you.
They turn to look at you and him, and you hug your scrolls tighter.
He places you down and introduces you to the three. There's a girl with chin length brown hair, named Shoko, a guy with his hair tied into a bun, called Geto, and a tall man with a buzz cut, called Yaga-sensei.
They creep you out.
You run the moment he sets you down into a corner at the end of the room, one near the door should you need to escape. You hug your scrolls impossibly tighter to yourself, eyes focused on the floor. You tremble as the man with the buzz cut approaches you.
You didn't want to be here. You wanted to go back into that world your ink had created. Tears fill your eyes again, and they cascade down your cheeks, falling like rain onto your precious scrolls. They grant your wish, and everyone is pulled into your world of ink.
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This was the same place that Gojo had watched you paint in the car.
The sky was a soft blue, the clouds a fluffy white. Birds of a rather... childish design flew in the sky, and the mountains, triangles drawn in different sizes, were painted pretty shades of grey and green.
The three of them looked rather baffled, while Gojo looked pleased. You were nowhere in sight however, most likely hiding away somewhere.
"She... did this?" Geto asked, eyes wide. Gojo nodded, smiling.
"I was wondering what happened in those scrolls, and it seems that I now have my answer. I'm sure you were curious too, Yaga-sensei." He looked at Yaga from the corner of his eyes, and the teacher couldn't help but nod in agreement.
Giggles of a child were heard, and they all craned their necks to the direction they heard it from. The sight they were greeted with was you smiling, chasing a white fox that stood on two legs, wearing a grey kimono and a black sun hat and a green frog that stood on two legs and wore a gat-like hat and carried a a lotus leaf.
"Misty! Mirrog! Don't run so fast!" You cried through giggles, little legs desperately trying to catch up with the painting spirits. They had ran without an awareness of their surroundings, consequently making them run into Shoko's legs. She looked down at the fox and frog, twirling a piece of her hair.
"So sorry, dear guest." Misty, the fox, had bowed its head in apology. The frog too had bowed, and Shoko merely shrugged in reply.
"No big deal." She waved them off, and they continued their game of tag with you.
"What is this place?" Yaga mumbled to himself, observing the scenery around him. If he hadn't been in the real world moments ago, he would've thought this was the real world.
"This is Lady (Y/N)'s painting." A voice from the sky replies, clouds parting for the imaginary figure. "Welcome to a world of her painting."
"A world? Are you saying she has more?" He questions the being, the smallest hint of disbelief in his voice.
"She has many more, and will have even more so long as she keeps painting. Her power is within her ability to paint, after all." Despite the speaker not being seen, they could hear the smile in the voice. "She can be a most favourable asset to the jujutsu world. That is, if you raise her to believe in the beliefs you do and follow in your footsteps. A painting doesn't paint itself, and what is a child if not a blank canvas?"
The once parted clouds had converged together once more, the voice leaving as mysteriously as it had appeared. You, now having gained some courage, stood in front of the group of four, a hand holding your beloved paintbrush. Kneeling down onto the grass, you drew a flower on the ground.
Rain in the form of wisteria flowers drowned the world in a sea of purple.
