Chapter Text
"Every one sees what you appear to be, few really know what you are."
-Machiavelli
You were nicknamed the ‘Zenin princess’ before the age of thirteen and spent many years training and being groomed into the perfect bride, wife, and mother. You weren’t let out of your gilded cage very often but that didn’t make you naïve to the world around you, far from it actually. you liked observing people, studying them, and you read all the great works including The Prince and the Art of War. You were just as cunning if not more so than the potential heirs of the clan, no one knew this of course, in their eyes you were simply a pretty cash cow that they’d reap the rewards of soon enough.
Being pretty and having a decent amount of cursed energy isn’t what set you apart from the other women in the clan, not even your technique that was passed off as a frivolous party trick. No, you inherited the same gift as one of your female ancestors, a cursed womb- not to be confused with the woman from the Kamo clan experiments. You had increased fertility levels and are guaranteed to give birth to strong sorcerers. On top of that any child you give birth to has a 99% chance of having an inherited technique, depending on the father of course.
There were other unique traits that made you the perfect sorcerer incubator, your high sensitivity levels and your full figure, but your least favorite trait was when you were ovulating. You dreaded the days when you felt like a bitch in heat, your entire body was built for breeding, and you were forced to deny it every month while in isolation.
I guess everyone must have a weakness, it’s just a shame yours is so… lewd.
The clan politics that surrounded you were no easy feat either, not that they included you anyways in the meetings, but you’d overhear when possible. Sometimes they’d have you serving tea in the same room, quietly pouring into the cups while ignoring the subtle glances and “supportive” touches to your waist.
Even within your own clan men are beastly and wolfish, you enjoyed taking advantage of this.
You enjoyed wrapping them around your fingers, giving them the impression of being an innocent sweet girl, only Naobito was able to see through this, but knowing your true nature only made him prouder to be your uncle. Knowing that the Zenin clan was able to produce a woman just as calculating as the men without even trying.
Yes, you were well liked and cherished as much as a woman could be cherished within that clan. You were kind and nurturing towards the younger girls, slipping them treats and letting them avoid beatings by staying in your rooms.
The one other person who didn’t fully buy your innocent act was Naoya, but of course he had no evidence to fully support his speculations. Maybe that’s what drew him to you, he claims that there are a million girls prettier than you, but you know he’s lying through his teeth. You see the way he looks at you in passing, that insatiable glint in his eyes when your gazes connect across a room. The way he’d subtly touch your waist and hips when maneuvering you near him. But he’s always been this way, ever since you were fifteen and growing bolder over the years. “Accidentally” tripping you just so he could catch you, stealing a quick feel while chiding you for being so clumsy. You’d smile and thank him in that sweet voice of yours, ignoring the urge to slap that smug smirk off his face.
This game would continue for many years, and when you turned seventeen you began asking things of Naoya. You’d look up at him with those pretty doe eyes of yours, pleading in a soft honeyed voice for him to take you out to the shops for new kimono fabrics. You’d wrap your delicate arms around his own muscular one, making sure to press your bosom against his arm so he could feel the outline of your well-endowed assets through the fabric. And who was he to deny you? Just a sweet stupid girl asking for her favorite second uncles help.
It was the second day after your eighteenth birthday, Naobito still hadn’t debuted you yet, they had kept you so well hidden from the prying eyes of jujutsu society.
Despite his ‘women should walk three steps behind a man’ ideology, Naoya liked the feeling of you holding onto his arm while you strolled the shops together, and he enjoyed the envious stares of other men. As much as he loved the little begging routine, you’d give him, he loved these moments even more, away from the household where he could properly fantasize what it’d be like having you as a wife.
It still shocks him that his cousin Jinichi managed to father a daughter so beautiful, he thought any children would come out just as ugly as him. Naoya often caught himself thanking the universe for your mothers’ genetics.
You were ethereal in his eyes, raven hair cascading down your back, golden colored eyes that would become almost blazing when angered, every curve and angle of your face looked hand crafted by meticulous angels, determined to bring a slice of heaven down to the mortals.
You let Naoya play out his sick little husband fantasy when away from the household, you saw it as a minor annoyance, letting it slide simply because you were out of the compound. Without Naoya by your side you’d never be able to leave unless it was to be shipped off to your future husband, so you enjoyed the time spent outside your cage and humored him.
A part of you also enjoyed having Naoya so close, he functioned as a wall against the leering stares of men that always found a way to follow you, and you knew they’d never dare to do anything besides staring so long as you had him.
Today however Naoya deeply regretted taking you to the shops, because the one man he couldn’t scare off was there.
Satoru Gojo.
All Naoya could do was keep a plastered smile and levelheaded voice when speaking to the white haired man.
“What brings you to Kyoto, Satoru? Surely, you’re not just here to sightsee.” Naoya began to pry in a fake polite tone.
Even with the blindfold Satoru made your heart skip a beat, you’d seen photos and videos of him in the past, but none were able to do him justice.
“Just checking out a hunch.” Satoru replied, a shit eating grin creeping up his lips when he noticed your staring. He was evading giving an answer, further annoying Naoya.
To your dismay Naoya stepped between Satoru and you, a pathetic attempt at shielding you from the view of the six eyes.
Curiosity got the best of you, Naoya couldn’t decide between welcoming your touch or stiffening under it when he felt your hands gently rest on his shoulders, knowing that you were standing on your tip toes to catch another glimpse of Satoru.
“Oh? Who’s this?” Satoru remarked, cocking his head to the side to get a better view of you over Naoya’s shoulders. You smiled a wide, genuine smile and Naoya reluctantly admitted to you being his second niece.
“Jinichi’s brat.” He tried downplaying and you could feel the air become even tenser.
“I never knew he had a daughter, or any children for that matter.” Satoru’s tone was lighthearted but held an inquisitive edge. While he wanted to ask Naoya how long they kept you hidden, he kept his responses vague, enjoying the uncertainty that made Naoya uncomfortable and on edge.
“she’s nothing special, she barely has enough cursed energy to produce a shikigami.” Naoya tried playing off in an amused tone, it was also a lie, you had more than enough cursed energy necessary for summoning a shikigami, you simply weren’t allowed to.
“Mh, but she certainly looks special.” Satoru mused, taking a step closer to get a better look. You could feel the slight anger rise in Naoya as Satoru towered over him to peer down at you behind him.
When Satoru saw the distinct beauty marks underneath the outer corners of your left and right eye, he knew exactly what you possessed. This only served to intrigue him further.
Naoya felt emasculated in this moment, he knew he had no true claim over you, and he knew eventually you’d be married off, you had spent your entire life preparing to be married off. So why now did he feel such rage when this blind folded idiot (his words) took such an interest in you?
Maybe he thought he’d have more time, maybe he was hoping Naobito would die before you came of age, if he were clan leader, he could force you to stay with him. To rub salt into the wound it was Satoru Gojo showing interest in you, besides the obvious clan rivalry he knew he couldn’t compete with Satoru, his ego was forced to come to terms with this fact despite his narcissistic upbringing.
Naoya didn’t even need to look at you to know you were giving Satoru that same look you’d give him when you wanted something, except with Satoru it was genuine, not superficial manipulation. You were genuinely interested in the man as well, nearly swooning over him at that. No, no, no Naoya could not have that.
“We have to be off,” Naoya spoke in a curt tone, his voice sounding almost strained to hide his frustration as he reached around to grab your wrist.
Satoru didn’t oppose, simply stepping aside and watching as Naoya dragged you away, smirking when he caught you looking back at him.
You felt some anxiety as Naoya dragged you back towards the car, and a startled gasp left you when he shoved you into the backseat. He was determined to carve out some sense of domination over you when he began hurriedly driving you back to the Zenin compound.
The servants kept their heads bowed low when passing, there were some concerned glances, but no one dared to speak up against an angry Naoya. Your father was off somewhere, not that he paid much attention to you anyways, and Naobito was likely drunk and passed out in his rooms. Forget about Ogi, like he’d do anything anyways.
Naoya gripped your elbow when leading you, ignoring your questions or pleas’, no amount of doe eyes or innocent flirting could get you out of this. No, he was on a mission when he pushed you into his rooms.
Panic began building quickly in you, you knew he couldn’t leave marks on you or taint your purity, so what else could possibly happen?
Naoya was muttering to himself the entire time, you’d catch the occasional “blind folded bastard,” or “Gojo scum.”
“N-Naoya?” you stammered nervously as he pushed you down onto his futon, caging you in under his body that shook with restrained rage. Normally you wouldn’t bat an eye at one of his outbursts, the last time it became this bad he beat a servant in front of you, but this was different, there wasn’t a servant to take the beating for you now.
“Shut up.” He snapped, his golden eyes glowering down at you.
Would it even be possible to try and fight him off? You considered it, ran the possibility through your mind. No, you were no match against him in combat, you’ve never sparred once in your life.
Think… how does a pretty girl nurse a man’s broken ego?
“Naoya…” you whispered in the sweetest tone, your soft hands slowly traced up his arms, fingers subtly digging into his biceps when briefly passing over.
Naoya felt his heart genuinely skip a beat when he heard his name on your lips, soft almost cooing with affection. Felt so much anger he originally had already dissipating. He had you splayed out beneath him, saying his name so prettily- Satoru didn’t have that, he did. He didn’t want Satoru to ever have this sight of you- any man for that matter. Your hair fanned out on the comforter, kimono disheveled and the opening widened, the subtle flushing of your cheeks while staring up at him. This sight alone was all his.
Your hands traveled further up his arms to his broad shoulders and came to rest at the nape of his neck, your fingernails oh so lightly scratching him, almost urging him closer. He thinks you’re urging him closer. He doesn’t care whether you actually are or aren’t because he’s already leaning down to get closer.
“it’s not fair.” He finally spoke, his voice soft but filled with bitterness, your hands slid from the nape of his neck to his jaw, gently cupping his face. He leaned into your touch, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he closed his eyes to fully relish and dedicate to memory the feeling of your soft hands holding his face.
“What isn’t fair?” you pried gently, your thumbs soothingly rubbing his cheekbones.
“You leaving me, leaving the clan.” He murmured against the palm of your hand before pressing a soft kiss.
“I know.” Was all you could say, you didn’t have a different answer for him, nor did you want to give him any false promise, you simply wanted him to be calm even if it left you with dread and guilt in your stomach.
“If I were the clan leader I’d keep you here.” His cat like eyes opened to look down at you.
Your mouth opened hesitantly, you didn't know what to say, how to even respond to that. Could it be that your manipulations had gone too far? No, you had a feeling this would've happened anyways, and in much more unsavory circumstances.
He leaned down closer, your noses now nearly brushing, and spoke softly, "I wouldnt let anyone take my sweet girl from me."
Your heart began to race, and what was once a grey relationship with blurred lines became vividly clear once Naoya said the quiet part out loud.
He began to think to himself, if he could get just a taste, a small lapping of you, maybe it'd be enough to satiate him. His cologne filled your senses being this close; leather, tonka, and vetiver; making your mind buzz with a newfound high.
But it did nothing to mask your feelings of unease, the prickling you felt in your limbs urging you to flee.
One of his large hands made contact with your shoulder and gingerly began to slide downward, gently pushing one of your arms out of the way in the process, "you've always been so good for me, you'll let me do this right?" he murmured persuasively, his warm breath gently fanning against your lips. You swallowed thickly, time was up and you formed no escape plan, tactics and schemes fell short when you now faced uncharted waters. Often times what's written on paper, yields different results when in practice.
You were faced with a decision; submission or a plethora of unknown consequences.
You chose to gently nod your head as his hand slid down past your delicate collar bones. Your breath gently hitched as he closed the distance, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt the warm press of his lips.
You could feel him shake with restraint above you, his breath shuddered along with yours as he deepened the kiss.
just one more, he told himself again and again as his touch grew more bold.
It took everything in you not to scrunch your face in disgust, how dare he touch me like this, you thought.
After what felt like eternity he pulled away, panting softly as he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes trained on yours. For a moment he wanted to say something, but with some newfound discipline, he held his tongue and reluctantly got off of you. You remained frozen in place, utterly stunned by this new event, not even noticing when he left.
one thing was clear however and echoed repeatedly in your mind; I need to escape from this place.