Rebirth In The Days When Curse Gao Was The Boss Chapter 23

Day Twenty-Three of Transmigration

Since receiving that “heavy” gift from Xue Yang on his birthday night, Gojo Satoru’s attitude towards Xue Yang underwent a subtle change. The kindness he showed was no longer the kind of feeding and indulgence mixed with playfulness and teasing; it became more… blatant, even somewhat clingy.

Specifically: when Xue Yang trained, Gojo Satoru stayed by his side to instruct him for longer periods. Although his remarks were still sharp, the focus in his eyes had clearly intensified. When Xue Yang went on missions (within the scope Gojo Satoru allowed), he followed secretly at a closer distance, ensuring there would be no unexpected “surprises.” The frequency and quality of the sweets he provided were upgraded again, reaching a point where there were almost no repeats daily, under the pretense that Xue Yang “is growing and needs nutrition.”

But what made Xue Yang’s scalp prickle the most was that Gojo Satoru began to escalate his invasion of Xue Yang’s personal space.

Initially, it was just an increased frequency of coming over to sleep, almost every night without fail. Then, one day, Xue Yang returned from a mission, pushed open the door to his dorm, and almost thought he had entered the wrong room.

A seemingly expensive and extremely comfortable beanbag chair had appeared in the room, placed perfectly by the window where the sunlight was best. Next to it were stacked several manga and gaming magazines that Gojo Satoru often read. On Xue Yang’s desk, the previously empty space was now filled with Gojo Satoru’s various small trinkets—oddly shaped sunglasses, half-eaten candy wrappers, and even an ugly-cute Cursed Corpse doll.

A vein throbbed on Xue Yang’s forehead. Before he could erupt, he saw Gojo Satoru walk in from the doorway, humming a tune and carrying a huge pillow printed with cartoon characters.

“Yo, you’re back?” Gojo Satoru greeted him with utter naturalness, then tossed the giant pillow onto Xue Yang’s bed, placing it side-by-side with his original plain pillow, where it looked conspicuously out of place.

“What is the meaning of this?” Xue Yang pointed at the extra items in the room, his tone dangerous.

“Hmm? Meaning of what?” Gojo Satoru blinked innocently. “The teacher’s dorm is being renovated, so I’m temporarily crashing here.”

“Renovation?” Xue Yang would believe him only if he were a ghost. “Jujutsu High has so many empty rooms, and you insist on squeezing into mine?”

“Oh, come on, where else is as comfortable as here?” Gojo Satoru walked over self-righteously, throwing an arm around Xue Yang’s shoulder and leading him further into the room. “Look, the sunlight is great here, the ventilation is excellent, and most importantly—” He leaned down, close to Xue Yang’s ear, lowering his voice with a hint of ambiguous amusement, “I have my exclusive sleeping pill here.”

The warm breath on his earlobe made Xue Yang stiffen. He abruptly pushed Gojo Satoru away, but the tips of his ears flushed uncontrollably: “Get lost! Who’s your sleeping pill!”

Gojo Satoru wasn’t annoyed; he grinned at him. “Don’t be so stingy, Xue Yang-kun~ Teacher even moved his most beloved game console and limited-edition sweets over. We can play and eat together!”

Only then did Xue Yang notice that a small refrigerator had appeared in the corner of the room at some point, stuffed with various sweets Gojo Satoru treasured. Next to his own game console, a brand-new model of a console was conspicuously present.

This was not “temporary lodging”; this was clearly an intention to move in permanently!

In the following days, Xue Yang’s dorm completely became Gojo Satoru’s second lair. Gojo Satoru’s clothes occupied half of Xue Yang’s wardrobe, his toiletries dominated the sink, and his various strange items were scattered everywhere. Xue Yang protested, struggled, and even tried to throw out all of Gojo Satoru’s belongings, but each time, Gojo Satoru neutralized his efforts in various ways (physical suppression, sweet temptation, or simply acting shamelessly).

Gradually, Xue Yang found himself… getting somewhat used to it.

He got used to opening the dorm door and seeing Gojo Satoru either sprawled on the beanbag chair playing games or wearing a steam eye mask while applying a face mask (yes, Gojo Satoru occasionally indulged in such self-care). He got used to Gojo Satoru clinging to him like a large koala in the middle of the night, carrying a faint scent of sweets. He got used to him complaining about “reports being such a pain” while monopolizing his desk to write mission reports, occasionally asking him irrelevant questions. He even got used to Gojo Satoru’s occasional impulse to attempt making “special sweets” with his “kitchen killer” skills, then forcing Xue Yang to taste test (which usually ended with the two of them ordering takeout).

This suffocating “encirclement” and “invasion” initially made Xue Yang feel choked and irritated, but he couldn’t pinpoint when the feeling of being constantly watched and protected allowed his perpetually guarded and vigilant heart to find a sliver of solid ground.

One evening, Xue Yang came out after showering and saw Gojo Satoru sitting cross-legged on his bed, holding Calamity, his Personal Sword. Gojo Satoru was carefully wiping the blade with a soft velvet cloth. Moonlight streamed in through the window, falling on his serious profile. His usually flamboyant white hair looked unusually soft.

Xue Yang paused his movement of drying his hair. He watched Gojo Satoru cleaning Calamity, his expression focused, as if he were handling a rare treasure. That weapon, which represented Xue Yang’s bloody past, seemed to be imbued with a different meaning in Gojo Satoru’s hands.

Gojo Satoru noticed his gaze, looked up, and smiled at him. “All clean? Come to bed quickly, we have a mission tomorrow morning.”

Xue Yang hummed in acknowledgment, walked over, and climbed into bed. Gojo Satoru carefully placed the cleaned Calamity back into its specialized sheath, then naturally reached out and pulled Xue Yang into his arms, adjusting to a comfortable position as usual.

“Hey, Gojo Satoru.” Xue Yang’s muffled voice came from his embrace.

“Hmm?”

“Are you… planning to live here forever now?”

Gojo Satoru chuckled softly, the vibration of his chest reaching Xue Yang’s ear. “What? Not welcome?”

Xue Yang was silent for a moment, then mumbled in a voice barely audible, “…Suit yourself.”

Gojo Satoru’s smile deepened. He tightened his arms, resting his chin on the damp top of Xue Yang’s hair, and whispered, “Then it’s settled.”

Xue Yang’s steady breathing came from his arms, seeming to be an acceptance. Gojo Satoru looked at the bright moonlight outside the window, feeling the docile (relatively speaking) sleeping posture of the youth in his arms. That soft feeling spread through his heart once more.

He knew Xue Yang’s past was a darkness that couldn’t be easily touched, and he never intended to forcibly erase those scars. But he could use his own method—this almost shameless, all-encompassing companionship and protection—to gradually fill Xue Yang’s present and future space, allowing those dark memories to be slowly covered by new, warm, and even somewhat noisy routines.

To keep his little wild beast captive in his territory, using infinite patience and indulgence, to make him accustomed to light, accustomed to warmth, accustomed to… being loved.

This feeling wasn’t bad. Gojo Satoru closed his eyes contentedly, smelling the mix of Xue Yang’s fresh shampoo scent and the faint aroma of sweets on himself, and drifted into a deep sleep.

And Xue Yang, before completely falling asleep, vaguely thought: This annoying guy… it seems like he really can’t be shaken off. But, perhaps… he’s not that annoying either.