(Attendance please…)
….
One Week Later
A week had passed since the Sokovia incident, a near-extinction event that most of the world remained blissfully unaware of.
The initial information blackout, designed for intelligence gathering and damage assessment, held for a day.
But then, the dam broke. The following morning was a carnival for media outlets and newspapers worldwide.
The centerpiece of the storm was a leaked video. Grainy, shaky footage, likely captured by a terrified civilian on the ground, a soldier's helmet cam, or perhaps one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who knew they might be witnessing their final moments.
It was the kind of modern-day reflex that defied logic not running from an apocalypse, but recording it.
And the footage was undeniable: it showed a lone figure, Gojo Satoru, erasing an entire city from the sky, a landmass two to three kilometers wide, with a single, terrifying blast of purple energy.
The news didn't spread with one unified voice. Society fractured, splitting cleanly into two opposing camps.
One side hailed Gojo as a savior, a hero who had made a terrible but necessary choice to save the world.
The other side was hell-bent on branding him a mass murderer, a monster who had callously wiped out thousands of innocent lives, arguing that if they had just waited, more people could have been saved. Both groups clung to their viewpoints, seeking only reasons to reinforce their own beliefs.
Satoru, for his part, didn't really care what they called him. Hero, mass murderer they were just words, labels people used to make sense of things they couldn't understand.
He was strolling through the streets of New York City, his round sunglasses firmly in place. He had claimed Tony's black credit card for himself, a temporary solution while his own identity, bank accounts, and other worldly necessities were slowly being arranged.
Back at the Tower, the atmosphere was strained, but it could have been worse. The Avengers, one by one, had tried to talk to him, offering support, telling him he wasn't alone in this.
They were clearly worried he was traumatized, burdened by the immense weight of his actions. He wasn't, not really.
He felt a certain sadness, a heavy acknowledgment of the lives lost, but he knew there had been no other viable choice. He had done what was necessary. The burden was there, but it wasn't crushing him.
The military's pursuit of him had been indefinitely halted. General Ross, it turned out, was in a coma. The punch Gojo had delivered to his face, though not enhanced with Cursed Energy, had still been more than enough for a man of his age to endure.
The "Gojo problem" had been temporarily shelved by the government.
Clink, ring, clink.
The small bell on a bakery door chimed as Gojo entered. He walked to the counter, the familiar, sweet aroma a small comfort.
"Four pastries, please," he said. "The best you've got. And any other sweets you'd recommend. For eating here."
The owner, a stout man with a grim face, looked up, his expression souring as he recognized the face from the news. "Sorry," the man said, his voice hard.
"We don't serve murderers here. I don't even know why the government lets you walk around and doesn't just execute you. What are the cops doing? I'm paying taxes here, damn it! Now, get the hell out of my shop."
Gojo said calmly, his expression unreadable,
"Bold of you to be yelling like that, especially at someone who could twist you up like a root vegetable. Don't you think?"
The shop owner recoiled slightly, his voice trembling though not much louder than before.
"W-What… So you're going to kill me now too, is that it?"
Gojo shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Nah. Not really in the mood for murder today." He paused, turning to leave but glancing back over his shoulder. "But lucky for you… if the mood ever strikes… I'll know exactly where to find you. Bi Bi"
This was the fourth shop that had denied Gojo service today. Not so much shocked or surprised anymore, Gojo just sighed behind his glasses and exited, the bell chiming his departure.
He looked up at a massive screen on the side of a skyscraper, where a news channel was broadcasting its latest hot take. An anchor, her face a mask of righteous fury, was speaking.
"…not a hero! He is a murderer, and only a murderer! Nothing will change that fact! No government statement, no billionaire playboy philanthropist like Tony Stark, no matter what they say! Do not be swayed by them!" A picture of Gojo flashed on the screen, a giant red 'X' slashed across it.
"Don't be deceived by his pretty face or youthful appearance," the anchor continued, her voice rising, "because he is a mass murderer of thousands of people, which included children, the elderly, women, and men! An unknown source has even come forward saying the Avengers wanted to save more people, but this man forcefully removed them from the city and then erased it without a shred of remorse or guilt! I think I'm right when I say that anyone calling him a hero needs to have their head checked in a mental hospital!"
Gojo watched for a moment, then just sighed again and began walking. "Really," he muttered to no one in particular, "they don't have a life, do they?… Oh, wait. I forgot. This is their life."
He walked on, turning down a quieter side street, until he came across a small dog limping near a crosswalk. It was a scruffy little thing, a mix of breeds, its back leg held awkwardly off the ground. It let out a low, pained howl. Gojo went towards it. It was a female dog. He squatted down and, remembering something he'd bought earlier, took a small packet of sweet biscuits out of his pocket.
"Awoooo… awoooOOOO…" the dog whimpered again, looking at him with sad, brown eyes.
"Can I even give you this?" Gojo wondered aloud. "I heard that human sweets can be harmful to dogs. Ah, well, whatever. A little can't hurt." He broke off a small piece. "Here, you can eat this. Then, I'll take you to an animal doctor. Hopefully, we can get that leg fixed."
He offered her the biscuit. She sniffed it, then ate it quickly. After she was finished, she let out a hopeful bark. "Arf-arf!" She clearly wanted more. Gojo smiled. He gently scooped her up into his arms, making her comfortable. She immediately began to lick his face, her tail giving a weak but enthusiastic wag. Gojo didn't react, just letting her, as he began to walk in search of a vet.
"Can you… no…t li…ck me constantly?" Gojo laughed, his face getting a thorough washing. "How about I give you a name? Hmm, how about… Mochi?"
The dog barked again, licking him with renewed vigor. "Arf! Arf!"
Gojo laughed, a genuine, lighthearted sound. "Hahaha! You liked it, huh? I liked it too. That's why I named you that. Alright, Mochi, let's go find you a good doctor."
….
A/N: So, How was it? 2 or 3 more simple chapters like him with hanging out with tony and banner after this than we will move forward.
Q: Should Gojo go in Daredevil season 2. I think it was somewhere around this time that it started?! Or NOT?!
-Yes(DD season 2)
-No(nah!)
-Suggestion for Slice of life chapters:-
And as always thanks for demicatoru/loadedDemigod for suggestions.
And join my discord for discussion if you like. Or about sharing your thoughts.
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