MHA; Gojo Vs Sukuna

Chapter Ten: The Path of a Hero.

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The past week had unfolded like a quiet storm, each day bringing subtle but significant changes to both Gojo Satoru and Sukuna. At fifteen, they had each awakened a fragment of their power, sending them down different paths. Yet, despite their freedom to live as they pleased, one thing remained constant—the daily training regimen imposed by the system.

Gojo had embraced it with a mix of curiosity and resignation, his body growing stronger at a pace that defied reason. Every morning, he would wake up feeling a little sharper, a little faster, as though his muscles and reflexes were sculpted by an unseen hand. He could feel it—his body, once just above average, was evolving into something extraordinary.

Today was no different. After completing his daily training, he sat on a wooden bench in the vast park near his home, catching his breath. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, cooling against the chilly morning air. The sky above had turned a deep shade of gray, thick clouds stretching endlessly like an impending storm. He exhaled slowly, watching the fog of his breath dissolve into the crisp air.

His gaze dropped to the glowing blue interface before him. His heartbeat, muscle density, quirk strength—everything was displayed in precise detail. His profile picture sat neatly in the corner, his silver hair and sharp blue eyes reflecting back at him.

"These daily missions really do help," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. His strength had increased noticeably in just a week. If things continued at this pace…

A sudden chime interrupted his thoughts. The interface flickered before shifting into a new notification.

[Mandatory Mission Unlocked: Enroll in U.A. High School.]

Gojo blinked.

"U.A.?" he murmured, tilting his head. He had never once considered joining a hero academy. With his family's wealth and status, there was no reason for him to become a hero. Why risk his life for others when he could live comfortably without lifting a finger?

He scoffed and tapped the decline button.

[Warning: Declining this mission will result in a penalty—One month of extreme torture sickness.]

Gojo's fingers froze mid-air. His eyes widened slightly as the words sank in.

"A month?" His voice came out quieter than expected. His blue eyes darkened, recalling the excruciating pain he had endured for just an hour. The memory of blood pooling in his hands, his body writhing in agony, his breath barely escaping his throat—it wasn't something he could endure again.

He clenched his jaw.

"...So that's how it is," he murmured.

With a deep sigh, Gojo stood up, dusting off his clothes. There was no choice. He had to enroll in U.A., whether he liked it or not.

The scent of warm food filled the dining room that evening. The Gojo household was an elegant blend of modern and traditional aesthetics, the wooden floors polished to perfection, the soft glow of overhead lights casting a tranquil ambiance.

Seated around the table, his family ate in silence. His father, Gojo Ichirou, was a man of discipline, his presence alone commanding authority. His mother, ever composed, sipped her tea gracefully, while his little sister sat across from him, swinging her legs absentmindedly.

Gojo took a casual bite of his food before speaking, his voice carrying a hint of nonchalance.

"I have to enroll in U.A. High."

A sharp silence fell over the room. His father's chopsticks halted mid-air. His mother's tea cup rested against her lips, frozen in place. Even his little sister, who had been humming under her breath, stopped moving.

Then, his father spoke.

"No." His tone was firm, absolute.

Gojo raised an eyebrow. "That was fast."

His father set his chopsticks down. "You are the heir of the Gojo family. You have no time for foolish hero work."

Gojo leaned back slightly, his lips curving into a small smirk. "I think I can balance both."

His father's stare turned sharp, a silent challenge hanging in the air. The conversation ended just as quickly as it began, the weight of authority crushing any further argument. His mother and sister exchanged glances but remained silent.

Gojo didn't push the matter. There was no point.

But he had already made up his mind.

Late that night, Gojo lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The faint glow of his phone screen illuminated the room. His fingers hovered over a contact name he hadn't thought about in a while—Yaoyorozu Momo.

After a brief hesitation, he pressed call.

A few rings later, a soft voice answered.

"Hello?" There was a slight nervousness in her tone. "Gojo? Why are you calling at this hour?"

Gojo exhaled. "I need to get into U.A. The same school you're attending. How do I do it?"

A pause. Then, Momo's voice came through, careful and measured. "I was admitted through recommendation. The regular entrance exam is in three days, but… the registration period has already ended."

Gojo clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"Can't you do something about that?" His tone was unusually serious. "I need to get in this year."

Momo was silent for a moment, thinking. Then, she spoke again, her voice softer.

"...I'll see what my family's connections can do."

Gojo grinned. "Thanks, Yaoyorozu. Love you."

Silence.

Then, a small gasp.

Momo, dressed in soft silk pajamas, clutched her phone tightly. Her face turned scarlet, and she immediately hung up. Her heartbeat pounded against her ribs.

"What was that just now?!" she whispered, her fingers trembling against the screen.

Back in his room, Gojo blinked at his phone. He glanced at the screen where the call had abruptly ended.

"Huh." He shrugged. "Weird."

Placing his phone down, he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes.

Whatever.

The real fun was about to begin.

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