Jojo-tsu kaisen (jojo x jjk)

SLAM!

"I should have known that guy was up to no good!" President Yaga's fist struck the desk, sending papers scattering.

His frustration seemed to add another decade to his appearance. The documents he had received from the higher-ups were nothing short of a mess of accusations and conclusions that left little room for defense.

Jotaro's decision to just leave without a word did not help either.

The case was already closed by the time Yaga got the news. The charges leveled against Jotaro were... rough: defying mission orders, murder of an innocent person, critically injuring over thirty others.

That wasn't all. The higher-ups had piled on his past infractions to strengthen their argument. Unauthorized use of his cursed technique in public and exposure to non-sorcerers. Possession of a special-grade cursed object without official permission.

It was as if they had been waiting for this.

Jotaro had been under their gaze since his arrival at Jujutsu High. The higher-ups didn't need much of an excuse to act. To them, he was a potential threat, someone they couldn't control.

They were simply waiting for the right moment to strike, and now it had come.

The verdict was obvious from the start: Jotaro Kujo, labeled a special-grade threat, had been condemned to execution, no room for negotiations, the decision final.

Yaga leaned back in his chair trying to find a way out of this but nothing came to his mind. He slammed his palm on the desk one last time, muttering, "Damn you, Jotaro."

Outside Yaga's office, Suguru stood motionless, his gaze fixed on the floor. He couldn't bring himself to knock. 

'Things went wrong.'

By the time Suguru had arrived at Jujutsu High, the news of Jotaro's supposed attack on an innocent town had spread faster than he wished it would. 

Even if there was more to the story, the higher ups left no room to argue but Suguru had a felling he knew the reason of Jotaro's action, to the outside it might look like he did it out of rage but Suguru had the felling that Jojo had done it so he wouldn't have to. 'I own him one' Suguru though as he realized how different thing would have been if Jotaro was not there that day.

"You okay, Suguru?" A voice broke through his thoughts and Suguru felt a hand on his shoulder.

He didn't need to turn to know who it was. Gojo's presence was unmistakable.

Suguru's first instinct was to shrug it off and give a generic response, but something stopped him. Instead, he found himself looking up. Memories he'd been trying to bury surged to the surface, the image of Gojo carrying a corpse wrapped in white, the sound of applause ringing in his ears.

"I don't know," Suguru finally admitted, lifting his eyes to meet Gojo's. For once, he didn't hide behind a mask and did not avoid his friend's worry.

***

Tokyo, Shibuya Scramble Crossing – 11:23 PM

A large figure stepped into a taxi, his presence filling the cramped interior. "to Sendai City," Jotaro said, his deep voice resonating with authority.

The driver frowned, glancing over his shoulder. "Sendai? That's pretty far, you know. I'm about to end my shift—"

Jotaro didn't let him finish. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out some cash and tossed it onto the passenger seat. "Call your wife. Tell her you'll be late tonight."

The driver's frown quickly disappeared, replaced with a nervous smile. "O-of course, sir! Just give me a moment." He fumbled for his phone, dialing hurriedly.

As the driver made his call, Jotaro turned to gaze out the window. The streets of Tokyo bustled with life, the neon lights casting a glow over the pedestrians. For a brief moment, a small smile crossed his face. Though his time in Tokyo had been short, he knew he would miss this place.

'Goodbye Tokyo' he thought as the taxi began to move.

Jotaro leaned back against the seat, his expression neutral. He wasn't disappointed with how things had turned out at Jujutsu High. If anything, he had expected it. While he hadn't gone as far as Suguru did in the anime's events, Jotaro was certain that the Jujutsu Society already had an execution order out for him.

Could he face the higher-ups and argue his case? Perhaps. He could even force them to reconsider if it came down to it. But what would be the point? They were cowards, scared of what they couldn't control.

Jotaro couldn't bring himself to care about the opinions of people like that.

Besides, he knew how this story would end. One day, those same higher-ups would meet their demise at Gojo's hands. It was inevitable, but if they insisted Jotaro was not scared to do it earlier.

What truly piqued Jotaro's curiosity was whether Suguru would find his way or fall on his path like before. Only time would tell.

For now, Jotaro had other matters to focus on: his strength.

The fight with Yuki had made him conscious of his abilities. His reliance on Star Platinum was both his greatest asset and his biggest vulnerability. Without his stand, Jotaro was pretty much defenseless against someone strong, his cursed energy reserves mediocre and his control average at best.

Another issue was his thinking. Star Platinum could act on its own, but that did not mean Jotaro did not have to control his decisions and in the middle of a fight he often found himself overthinking, trying to calculate his every move only to take to much time. In the world of sorcery, where a millisecond could mean life or death, hesitation was a fatal flaw of his.

Closing his eyes, Jotaro let out a sigh. He had time to address these shortcomings, time to improve his skills and eliminate his flaws. He will become stronger, that was a fact.

His gaze drifted down to his clothes—the dark blue uniform of Jujutsu High. While it differed slightly from the standard design, it was still recognizable enough to mark him as a sorcerer. It was a liability now, a target on his back, so he needed to get rid of it as soon as possible, but then again he hadn't thought to bring a spare change of clothes with him so there was that.

Jotaro smirked to himself, a flicker of self humor. 'Who would've thought I'd end up wandering Japan with a target on my head and only a pair of clothes, napping in taxis. Guess I'm a bum like that guy now.'