Work Text:
Three minutes.
It had been three minutes since Gojo Satoru had made his appearance, dragging a silver trolley and handing out souvenirs as Sukuna’s vessel floundered about his friends. Her students examined the strange pink charms handed to them and Utahime could already feel a headache gradually pricking her temples.
Utahime exhaled through her nose, closing her eyes as she tucked her hands into the white sleeves of her top. She was in no mood to deal with this ridiculous man’s antics.
This idiot. How dare he think that she would actually want one of his stupid souvenirs of all things—
“I was only messin’ with you.”
Utahime cracked her eyes open. Gojo offered her an innocent smile, and she narrowed her eyes cautiously. “What?”
“Of course, I got Utahime a souvenir too!” Gojo beamed brightly, reaching into the pockets of his black pants. “One that she can cherish and love all her life.”
Utahime’s brow twitched in annoyance. “What nonsense are you blabbering?”
“Aha!” Gojo tugged something out of his pocket, his long fingers curled around it as he held his hand behind his back. His other hand waved before him, a cheeky grin splitting his lips. “Ora, ora! Hold out your hand.”
Utahime stared flatly.
“Ora, ora!” Gojo persisted, continuing to wave his hand as he grinned. “Hold out your hand already!”
Utahime scowled at the hand swaying infront of her face.
She had half a mind to slap the man instead but her students were closely watching. Even Gojo’s students, the second years mainly—for Sukuna’s vessel was apologizing profusely as the brown haired girl continued kicking him while the quiet one made no effort to stop her— looked in fascination at whatever ridiculous souvenir Gojo wanted to hand her.
Utahime slowly lifted her arm, already planning on throwing the thing back in Gojo’s annoying face.
“Close your eyes too!” He said excitedly, his closed fist hovering above her open palm.
Utahime gritted her teeth. “Don’t test my patience!”
Gojo whistled in amusement. “You’re making such a scary face right now, Utahime!”
Utahime began warningly. “Gojo, I swear—“
His fingers unfurled, and something soft dropped in her hand.
Brown eyes stared at the small object. For on her palm, sat a plushie. A very small, round plushie of none other than Gojo Satoru himself.
“It’s an exact replica of me but liddol~” Gojo cooed lovingly.
Utahime briefly wondered how a full grown, one hundred and ninety centimeters tall man could say “liddol” in real life.
“I saw it and thought ah!” Gojo snapped his fingers. “Utahime would love this!”
Gojo stuffed his hands into his pockets, wiggling his brows as he leaned towards her frozen form. A smirk curled his lips. “So you always have me with you~”
Utahime gritted her teeth, tightening her grip around plushie’s blindfolded face. This idiot!
“What kind of idiot would want to have you?!”
Unbeknownst to them, Miwa slowly raised a hand in the background.
“Aw, come on, Utahime.” Gojo straightened up, the cocky smirk firmly plastered on his face. “People would die to have someone like me with them~”
“Those people lack brains then.” Utahime scrunched her nose in disgust.
Gojo gripped his chest, feigning hurt. “You wound me with your words, Utahime.”
“Oh, shut up! And It’s Utahime- senpai! ” Utahime hissed furiously, shoving the plushie into his chest. “Show some respect, you idiot!”
With a swish of violet locks and a white ribbon, Utahime pivoted on her heel. She marched towards the main campus building, hands balling into fists when Gojo trailed after her, whining loudly in that childish way of his.
“Utahimeeeee!”
Just one day. She breathed, tucking her hands back into her sleeves. Her eyes slid shut. I have to tolerate him for just one day.
Gojo Satoru was a curse in disguise.
Utahime was sure of it. There was no possible way that a human could be this much infuriating . Once they had all settled down in the lounge, Utahime felt something sitting atop her head. She had reached up in confusion, bringing it near her face and felt her blood pressure rising because it was that stupid Gojo Satoru doll again.
“It’s not a doll.” Gojo had wagged a finger at her, leaning back comfortably in his chair as she threw his mini-version back at him. “It’s called a plushie, Utahime. You must be pretty old if you don’t know that.”
It bounced away from his Infinity.
“I’m three years older than you!” Utahime screamed.
“Okay, boomer.”
Utahime wanted to murder him. To hell with the strongest shaman ever to exist, she was going to find a way to murder this obnoxious moron and sneer on his grave. She spent her time devising a murder scheme while also watching her students in the Goodwill event when there was a soft presence in her lap.
Brown eyes dipped down, hardening for again it was the Gojo doll— plushie .
She hurled it at Gojo’s cackling form once more, only for it to simply bounce back.
“You’re so mean, Utahime!”
Utahime gradually started to believe that the doll—no, no plushie— was cursed. It had to be cursed. Gojo must’ve asked the principal to curse it for the hideous little thing would always appear around her. On her head, in her hand, lying face up in her lap no matter how hard she sent it flying across the room and into a certain white haired shaman’s face before it merely ricocheted off him.
The stuffed toy was either cursed or Gojo kept misusing his teleportation and dropped it back on her.
“You sure are careless, Utahime.”
Gojo tutted as the plushie bounced back off Infinity, a vein popping up on Utahime’s forehead as she stood seething. A teasing smirk curled his lips, and he cocked his head to the side.
“You keep on losing mini-me.”
“I. Am. Your. Senior!”
The door shut with a resounding click.
Utahime pressed a hand against her head, dragging her palm down her face. The chaos in the event had left her exhausted. For curses to attack a jujutsu school, fully aware of the capable sorcerers there— knowing that Gojo Satoru was there was not an everyday event. It promised the beginning of something far more sinister.
“There’s a traitor among you.” Gojo’s grim voice echoed in her ears.
Her grip tightened on the strap of her bag. A traitor among her trusted companions, even her loyal students.
The thought left her mouth bitter.
Discarding her boots in the genkan, Utahime padded into her apartment, a sigh escaping her lips as she entered her bedroom. She set her bag on the dressing table. I should get changed.
A ding filled the air, followed by another. Brown eyes snapped back towards her bag as she reached for the zipper, tugging it down in search of her phone when a tuft of silvery white caught her attention.
Utahime dug into her bag more, fishing out the foreign object.
The tiny smirk sewed across the plushie’s face taunted her.
Within seconds, Utahime hurled the plushie in the air forcefully. The toy slammed into the front wall, and pathetically dropped atop her unrolled futon.
Utahime exhaled through her nose. She pulled out her phone, thumbing through her messages. Perhaps Shoko was worried about her after what happened today—
|Gojo Satoru:
u forgot smol me again </3 dwi put it back (*￣▽￣)/
Utahime blocked his number.
The curses always failed to give her a headache because it was a feat only Gojo Satoru could accomplish. Utahime muttered curses under her breath, swearing that if he texted her again—which he managed to do so every single time despite her blocking his number—she would chuck her phone out of the window.
Texting be damned, she’ll write Shoko letters.
.
.
.
.
.
Utahime liked her showers sizzling hot. The kind that would leave steam rolling off her skin as she turned off the faucet and stepped out into the warmth of her room, towel wrapped around her hair.
Her mind kept drifting back to Gojo’s words. An enemy hiding among them. She grimaced, changing into a comfortable sweatshirt and shorts before plopping down on the futon.
Something poked her leg.
With a quiet grumble, Utahime pulled it out. Gojo’s plushie dangled from her fingers, blindfolded eyes gazing back at her with that stupid smug smirk.
Utahime snorted, lying back down as she lifted the plushie scrutinizingly.
Damp lavender locks spilled around her head, splayed across her pillow as she examined the plushie in the dimly lit bedroom. Moonlight slipped in through her open windows, casting streaks of silver along her futon and the small toy within her gentle hold.
Her thumb grazed along the blindfold smoothly, and a familiar teasing voice curved around her ears.
“One that she can cherish and love all her life.”
Her trimmed nails dug into the blindfold. Did he actually mean what he had said back there? This little toy within her grasp, one that he said to cherish and love, one that he boasted was an exact replica of himself. Was that his way for telling her to care for him—
The plushie clumsily fell from her hands and landed on her face.
Utahime swore under her breath, picking the toy back up and tossing it aside.
She shifted onto her side, hazelnut eyes staring at the blaring crismon digits of her alarm clock. Her mind drifted back to a handsomely sculpted face, wild white hair and a teasing smirk as her hands were enveloped by warmth. “So you can always have me with you~”
“Idiot.” Utahime scowled, throwing the comforter over her head and squeezing her eyes shut.
A ring filled the air.
Utahime paused, chalk in hand as she turned towards her bag sitting on the wooden table. Her students’ gazes swivelled over as well, watching her hurriedly pull out her phone and scowling at the unknown number. With a wave of her hand, Utahime walked out of the classroom and into the empty corridor.
Her thumb reluctantly swiped across the screen. “Hello?”
“Utahimeeeee.” Gojo sang from the other side. “Wazz up!”
Utahime pinched the bridge of her nose. “Don’t call me in the middle of class.”
“I see you're angry as usual.”
Her thumb moved to click the line off when Gojo spoke again, a tad bit of seriousness in his tone. “Did you get any intel on the mole thing?”
Utahime halted, peering in through her classroom window where her students sat chatting amiably. “Not yet.”
“I see,” Gojo hummed thoughtfully from the other side. “I wanna discuss more about this. But it would be better to talk in person.”
Her tensed shoulders relaxing, Utahime pressed the phone against her ear. Perhaps Gojo was finally growing out of that childish behavior.
“I hope you’re taking care of me.”
Utahime blinked.
“The little me I gave you yesterday, of course.” Gojo elaborated, his grinning face flashing before her eyes. “I bet you have me all cozied up on the side of your bed—“
Beep. Beep. Beep.
.
.
.
.
.
Pedestrians thronged the sidewalk, strangers passing around her as Utahime sat in the cafe’s soft pink chair, hair pinned back into a high ponytail. She tapped her foot impatiently, wallet and baseball cap set before her on the table. After class, she had received a text from Gojo announcing the spot and time where they could sit down and talk about the traitor.
Utahime had gone back home and changed into a casual attire; blue overalls, a long sleeved white shirt and a matching blue baseball cap that now lay on the table.
She made sure to bring the plushie too. If the toy actually was cursed, she couldn’t just throw it out into the garbage. Best thing would be to hand it back to that numbskull. But the lack of a cursed aura around the plushie told her that perhaps it wasn’t cursed after all.
Utahime raised her brows, cupping the plushie within her hands curiously.
Out in the sun, it looked clearer. She idly traced her fingers along the small toy, ruffling the silvery threads before her fingertips grazed past the smirk and halted over its tiny chest.
Just where had Gojo got this from? Utahime crossed her ankles under the table, rubbing circles on the plushie’s chest. He had it made maybe? Ugh. Who’d make a doll of that idiot anyway.
His words rang in her ears. “It’s an exact replica of me~”
Utahime examined the plushie carefully. An exact replica, huh? She snorted in amusement. This tiny plush toy couldn’t be a perfect copy of that infuriating man.
The faint color of the pink lips sewed along the plushie’s mouth caught her attention, same as the color of Gojo’s lips—not like she had ever concentrated on his lips, mind you—and Utahime set her elbows on the table, tracing the slightest details of the plushie in her hands.
“Mhm.” She hummed, eyes narrowing slightly. What if it smelt like him too? Knowing the moron, he must’ve sprayed his cologne all over it.
Utahime brought the doll closer to her nose and took a thoughtful sniff. It didn’t smell anything like him. There was a chance that the scent had faded away already.
Because of course she recognized the outrageously expensive minty cologne the white haired idiot wore since he would lean into her personal space impudently, blabbering about with that impish grin on his face and she would inhale the rich scent until it would fill her lungs and fuel her anger because how dare he smell so fucking good—
Utahime shook her head, ponytail swishing behind her. Her grip on the plushie slackened, letting it plop back on the table. She glanced at the clock displayed outside of the cafe.
He was late yet again.
Her gaze strayed back onto the plushie. With a bored look, she lazily dragged a finger over the tiny black blindfold covering its eyes. Hm? She arched a brow when her nail tugged at the dark blue fabric of his uniform shirt. Do these toys have removable clothes—
Utahime clamped a hand around her mouth, horrified by her own thoughts.
She was Utahime Iori. Teacher to future sorcerers, a member of a respectable family and a proud jujutsu sorcerer herself. She could not succumb to such corrupt thoughts.
The doll gazed back at her and she peeked around suspiciously.
“It’s an exact replica of me~”
Utahime picked up the doll and slowly slid off the blindfold.
Round blue eyes greeted her and she tipped her head sideways. It wasn’t the same color of blue Gojo had. For Gojo Satoru’s eyes were a glimmering kaleidoscope of blue, several shades of the sky and ocean hidden behind a thin black blindfold.
Her finger idly slid under the plushie’s shirt, slowly lifting it up to show pale skin—
“My, my.”
Warm breath ghosted over her neck, scattering goosebumps across her skin.
“Who knew you were actually a perv, Utahime.”
Utahime shrieked, kicking the ground and her chair toppled backwards. Hands clasped down on the tipping chair’s sides, holding her back midfall.
Hazel eyes stared upwards, meeting iridescent blues as Gojo’s sunglasses tipped down his nose, a smirk curling his lips.
“Wouldn’t you like to see the real thing instead?” He offered teasingly, the sunlight curving around his face. “I promise it’s far better than the plushie—“
A fist shot up, and Gojou paused. He watched in amusement as Utahime’s knuckles slammed against his Infinity barrier, held away from his face by a few inches.
Gojou snorted. “You never give up trying, now do you, Utahime?”
Utahime had always thought herself better than using expletives. She decided to make an exception for today as her lips pulled back into a snarl.
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Only if you watch me.” Gojo chirped easily, setting her chair back before she could invent a technique that could end Infinity and him too.
Utahime’s face flushed a bright cherry red as Gojo sauntered around the table and sat down from across her. He leaned back in his seat, shooting her a bright, dazzling smile.
“I wanted to talk more about the mole thing. But I see you’d rather be undressing little me instead—“
“Say one more word and I’ll smash this cup on your head.”
“Hysterics aren’t gonna win you men, you know?”
Utahime could feel her blood pressure rising. She clamped her hands on the edges of her seat, ready to throw her chair at him despite that damned invisible barrier protecting him from her wrath.
“May I take your order?” A waitress stepped near their table, notepad in her hands as she gleamed.
Utahime kept her glare on Gojo as he straightened up, gleefully flipping through the menu. “Ooooh~ I would like to order a triple strawberry layered cheesecake with two side scoops of chocolate ice cream with blueberry sprinkles please.”
Utahime’s expressions morphed into disgust. Who in their right minds could eat this much sugar?
The waitresses peeked at the menu he was ordering from and smiled apologetically. “Ah, sorry, sir. But we only have that available in our section for the couple's special dessert.”
A smug smile tugged Utahime’s lips. The reason for her happiness may be petty but watching Gojo not get something he wanted felt very satisfying.
“What’re you talking about?” Gojo laughed breezily, reaching ahead and Utahime blinked as he clasped her hand on the table into his own. “This is my wife right here!”
Utahime choked on thin air.
“Aww, one couple special order then!” The waitress giggled, turning to a shell shocked Utahime. “And what would you like, mam?”
With a murderous gaze, Utahime parted her lips to spew out vulgar insults when Gojo suddenly pointed behind the waitress. “Oh, look they’re calling for you!”
The waitress whirled around abruptly.
Utahime blinked, the warmth of the hand nestling her own on the table leaving as Gojo appeared behind her. Her heartbeat spiked as he leaned in close, his warm breath lingering across her exposed nape as he muttered quietly.
“Just play along and I’ll owe you one.”
A shudder went down her backbone, and she regretted having her hair into a ponytail to leave her neck exposed like this.
Within seconds, Gojo was back in his seat, an innocent smile on his face as he cradled her smaller hand in his own once more.
The waitress turned back to them in confusion and Gojo laughed sheepishly. “Oops. Maybe they weren’t calling you.”
“It’s okay,” the young waitress smiled gleefully, clicking her pen on the notepad. “You were saying, mam?”
Gojo mimed zipping his lips shut from behind her and Utahime let out a sigh. “I would like a cup of chamomile tea please.”
“Coming right up!”
When the waitress retreated, Utahime scowled deeply. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” Gojo grinned. “Because one, who could ever hate such a handsome and strong person like myself.”
Utahime rolled her eyes.
“And two if you really did hate me,” Gojo teetered closer, wagging his brows cheekily. “Then you still wouldn’t be holding my hand.”
Realization hit Utahime, and she snatched her hand out of his hold as if she had been burned by hot iron. Her face flushed a dark shade of crimson as she gritted her teeth.
Gojo smiled unabashedly, one arm propping on the table as he picked up the fallen plushie. He inspected the toy, turning it left and right before blowing a raspberry.
“Aww, little me looks so lonely.”
Utahime inhaled deeply. She was going to ignore him. Engaging in any kind of conversation with this insufferable man was a wastage of her time. Yes, she would just wait till her tea got here and she could leave and maybe drink away this headache with some beer once she got home.
“I mean look,” Gojo continued on, lips jutting out into a childish pout as he turned the plushie’s face towards her calm form. “It doesn’t even have a single lipstick mark on it!”
He leaned back with a dejected sigh. “And here I thought you slept with liddol me.”
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.
.
The waitress yelped, inching away from the couple’s table as a chair was sent flying forward, only to bounce away from the chortling white haired man.
“Uuuu!”
Utahime marched ahead, hands curled into tight fists as Gojo matched her swift pace with his own long legs. Their back and forth bickering had left no space for them to discuss the important topic they had planned to meet up for. Her day had simply been wasted by Gojo chatting her ears off and making her want to tug out her hair.
“Taaa!”
Streetlights spilled light on the pavement they walked on, the darkness of the evening around them as people strolled past, engaged in their own lives.
None of them stuck with this man child unlike her.
“Himeee!”
Gojo tapped her shoulder repeatedly. “Take a look at what I uploaded!”
Utahime turned sharply, jaw tight. “What is it, you idiot!”
Her stomach dropped as he waved his phone before her. Several photos of her, him, and even some of the plushie flickered across the screen of his expensive smartphone. Utahime swallowed as Gojo scrolled down, showing how all the pictures were uploaded in a group chat made by Gojo.
The group consisted of Gojo, her, Mei Mei, Nanami —he left several times but Gojo would always add him back— and Shoko.
Utahime swallowed the sudden lump stuck in her throat, swiping at the phone.
“Wh-What?! When did you take these?!”
“When you weren’t looking, of course.” Gojo responded gleefully, holding his phone away. “Gotta show the others how much fun we had today!”
“Fun?!” Utahime’s left eye twitched, her furious gaze snapping up his way. “Delete my photos this instant!”
“They’re memories, Utahime.” Gojo chided, swaying his phone that displayed a photo of her blowing at the steam of her tea. “You can’t just delete memories.”
“I look ridiculous!” Utahime snapped, reaching for the phone again.
“Aw, come on.” Gojo held the phone over her head, laughter bubbling past his lips.
“You look absolutely beautiful!”
Utahime halted instantly. He paused beside her too as she peered up at him through thick lashes, soft brown hues flickering with an unrecognizable emotion. Her heart skipped a beat as Gojo teetered closer, arm reaching across her shoulders. His palm flattened against the cool glass of the toy shop’s window they stood before.
He towered over her smaller frame, kaleidoscopic blues glimmering as a smirk curved his lips.
“But you know what’s more beautiful?” Gojo whispered, holding the phone out. His thumb swiped across the screen, showing a smirking selfie.
“Me, of course!”
Gojo cackled, skipping away from Utahime’s clawing hands. The street light shone scarlet, and Utahime huffed furiously, trudging forward to cross the street as she hissed out curses.
A hand caught her wrist, holding her back.
“Ah, ah, ah! You’re forgetting something, Utahime~”
Utahime clenched her jaw tightly, a vein popping on her temple as she whirled around swiftly. “I swear if it’s that stupid doll again—“
She froze, meeting the plushie halfway as its face grazed her lips. Utahime stared, dumbfounded while Gojo cooed, tapping her mouth with his plushie once more.
“Chu~!”
At that moment, she couldn’t comprehend when he slipped the plushie into her rigid hands, that teasing smirk plastered on his face as he laughed about how she had nearly forgotten him again. He tipped his head to the side, announcing his departure and disappearing with that troublesome teleportation technique of his.
Utahime stood there, rooted to the spot with her eyes round like moons. The noise of the traffic echoed around her stilled form, snapping her back to reality as the world clicked back into motion.
A hot blush exploded across her face, and Utahime threw the plushie on the ground. Her face burnt red hot whether from anger or embarrassment—probably both as she slammed her foot down on the plushie.
The pedestrians around her jumped, scurrying away from her raging form as she screamed curses, furiously stomping on the toy over and over again.
The fact that it didn’t have Infinity to protect itself fueled her anger more.
The moment Utahime reached home, she ran herself a much needed bath. A warm, steaming hot bath to heal her headache and perhaps her mental exhaustion too. Twisting around the faucet, she glanced at the dust stained plushie through the ajar door of the bathroom.
Gojo’s plushie lay on her dressing table face down, covered in dirt and dust.
Utahime turned away, huffing as she poured salt into her bath.
Brown eyes slowly peeked back at the toy, and she grimaced.
Steam curled in the air, a crease set between Utahime’s brows as she leaned back in the sizzling water. Her nails scrubbed across the plushie’s face, swiping away the marks of her heels from earlier. She stretched her legs along the bathtub, letting the hot salt water soak into her skin and loosen her tensed joints.
Her fingers carded through the snowy threads of the plushie’s hair, dipping the stuffed toy in the water a few times too.
Utahime tossed it into the dryer as she toweled herself off.
Changing into a loose green tee and shorts, Utahime let the plush dry off before she sat in the emptiness of her cold kitchen, chewing her dinner in silence.
Comforter neatly folded under her bare feet, Utahime quietly gazed up at the ceiling of her room as she lay back on her futon. A flicker of her pictures from today, flashing from Gojo’s exorbitant smartphone flared behind her eyes. She bit the inside of her cheek, her hands curling into tight fists atop her stomach.
She hated having her photos taken.
Utahime never considered herself insecure about the scars that littered her body, especially the notable one curving across her face and arching over her nose. They were a sign that she was a survivor, a strong jujutsu sorceress, a hero who had saved countless lives. The judging looks were what she loathed.
People going through her photos, comparing herself with others, murmuring about her body and her frightening face. How their eyes would linger over her scar in silent observation and pity.
Fingers rose, brushing along the length of the scar across her face as Utahime reflected her time in the subway once. Her gaze had fallen on a small child who stood muttering an incoherent nursery rhyme under his breath, and she had smiled unconsciously when the child glanced her way.
The child locked gazes with her briefly. Her heart wrenched within her ribcage as a panicked look spread across the child’s face, tears dripping down his cheeks before he abruptly clung to his mother’s leg and screeched about the “ scary looking lady” in absolute fright.
Her muscles tensed, form stilling as the mother’s gaze snapped her way, the look of alarm on her face softening into one of commiseration.
Utahime hated it.
She wasn’t weak. She didn’t need sympathy.
With a loud exhale, Utahime shifted onto her side, lilac locks splayed out behind her as she spotted the plushie discarded near her pillow. Reluctant fingers reached ahead, clasping the plush toy and tugging it closer till she gazed at the eyes carefully sewed in with blue threads.
Idiot. A frown marred her lips. Her thumb brushed along the blindfold tugged down on the plushie’s neck. Why do you have to be so infuriating?
Heat crawled up her neck, brown eyes narrowing as she remembered how the buffoon had swept his plushie across her lips.
She buried her nose in the silver strands of the plushie’s hair, fingers tightening around its soft small body as she curled inwards, letting out a soft sigh.
Beep.
Utahime jolted slightly. Her hand clamped down on the phone, eyes squinting as the screen flashed in the darkness of her room.
|Shoko
—tagged a picture from Gojo Satoru
U 2 on a date?
Utahime stared at the text, the words sinking into her mind before she panicked, typing out a reply swiftly.
You
NO!!!
Half way in writing through a thorough explanation of what had happened today, her phone dinged again. Utahime paused.
| S hoko
lmao jk
saw that plushie u had u made it?
A frown curved the ends of Utahime’s lips. She clicked across her keypad.
You|
No, Gojo gave it to me I think he had Yaga-san wurse it
*curse
|Shoko
nah the principle womt ever do that throw it away if u wanna
Utahime pursed her lips, glancing down at the plushie. She nudged her foot against her folded comforter.
You|
What’s the point?
The idiot would give it back somehow
A moment of pause followed, Utahime watching Shoko’s message ping on her phone.
| Shoko
oh?
You|
Yes, he keeps on pestering me with it.
Says how it’s somewhat like he’s with e
*me
Just to infuriate me
Another moment of silence. Utahime slid her feet under the fabric of her comforter, eyelids drooping as she typed out a goodnight message for her friend.
Her phone rang once more.
| Shoko
i have an idea 😈
want that toy out of your life?
Her brows furrowed slightly because of the emoji.
You|
Yes?
| Shoko
this is what u have to do 😎
Shoko is typing …
A vibration in the back of his pocket made him halt. Switching the quadruple scooped ice cream cone in his other hand, Gojo searched his pockets for his phone. His tongue poked out from the corner of his mouth while one of his students pressed their faces on the cool glass of the ice cream displays.
Yuji squished his face against the thick glass. “Ahhhh, I can’t decide which flavor!”
“Don’t drool over it.” Megumi chided with a frown.
Nobara clicked her nails against the countertop, eyes flickering from one colorful ice cream flavor to another as she contemplated over the choices offered.
“Hurry up now,” Gojo called after them, smiling when finally getting his phone out. He swept his thumb across the screen. “Megumi-kun, choose a flavor too if you don’t wanna complain about it lat—“
Plop.
Plop.
Plop.
Plop.
His students turned abruptly, staring with wide eyes as Gojo stood frozen, phone in one hand and an empty cone in the other.
Nobara burst into laughter.
“Ha! That’s what you get for ordering four scoops!”
“Gojo-sensei!” Yuji cried out, gripping his head in utter misery. “Your ice creammmmm!”
Megumi’s eyes drifted over the mess of the pathetic colorful puddle on the floor before shifting back to his teacher’s gawking face.
“Oi.” Megumi stepped closer, peeking down at the phone screen curiously.
“You okay?”
| Gojo Satoru called you at 2:13pm.
| Gojo Satoru —replying to a picture from Utahime Iori. Oi! Wth is this!
| Gojo Satoru I know ur reading this utahime!! i can see the blue ticks Reply!!!
|Gojo Satoru called you at 2:15pm. | Gojo Satoru called you at 2:16pm.
|Gojo Satoru pick up the call utahime UTAHIME! OI UTAHIME!!
| Gojo Satoru called you at 2:18pm.
You
rejected a call from Gojo Satoru at 2:19pm
| Gojo Satoru called you at 2:31pm. |Gojo Satoru called you at 2:32 pm.
Gojo Satoru is typing ...
You have 12 missed calls from Gojo Satoru .|
“Tch.”
Utahime clicked her phone shut, switching to silent mode before she continued trudging through the school’s corridors. A smirk curled her lips, and she hummed a classical tune, arms clasping behind her back as she contemplated on inviting Shoko and Mei Mei over for a karaoke night.
Her treat.
A presence loomed behind her, casting a long shadow. Utahime whirled around, brown eyes sharp as her fists rose upwards. She halted, an unimpressed look on her face as her arms dropped by her sides.
“Oh,” Utahime said dryly. “It’s you.”
Gojo set her with a frown, phone in one hand as he slouched closer to her shorter height. “Utahime, what is this?”
“It’s Utahime-senpai!” Utahime snapped back, the corners of her lips twitching upwards as she peered up into his blindfold. “Learn to respect your elders, Gojo Satoru.”
His frown deepening, Gojo held out the phone near his face. Utahime glanced from the screen to him nonchalantly. “What do you want?”
“You can’t just send me this and not answer?!” Gojo complained, brows creasing even more. “Explain yourself, Utahime!”
Utahime clasped her hands behind her back, hazelnut eyes flickering back on the shining screen of his phone.
A picture of his plushie sitting beside her pillow greeted her, a prominent pink lipstick mark plastered on the expanse of its small face. It took a lot of her willpower to not snicker when she looked back to Gojo’s grim face.
“I don’t see the problem here.” Utahime arched a brow.
“The problem — Did you kiss my plushie for real , Utahime?!”
Utahime cocked her head innocently. “Is that not what you wanted?”
“W-Well!” Gojo’s brows furrowed even more. “I didn't expect—“
Utahime bit her tongue, holding herself from breaking into laughter. Gojo Satoru, the strongest shaman ever to exist, stumbling over his words before her. She was definitely going to treat Shoko out now. Bless her friend’s soul.
Gojo quietened down when Utahime cleared her throat loudly, offering him a faint grin. “Yes, I decided to keep the doll—, no, plushie ! Yes, I shall be keeping it.”
Utahime awarded him with a gentle smile. “Thank you for your thoughtful gift. I shall cherish it.”
His mouth opening and closing as if mimicking a fish, Gojo blinked repeatedly as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He straightened up, letting her words sink in slowly. “You’re… welcome?”
Utahime nodded her head, shifting aside when a hand clamped down on her shoulder. Brown eyes swung backwards, meeting the sly grin splitting Gojo’s lips as he moved to stand before her.
“Ah, so you’ve finally accepted my awesomeness, huh, Utahime~?” Gojo puffed his chest out proudly, brows waggling above his blindfold. “Who knew giving you a plushie of myself would make you finally accept your feelings for me—“
“I never said I had feelings for you.”
Gojo blinked, growing astonishingly silent for once in his life. Utahime mentally patted herself on the back for achieving this impossible goal.
“Not you, Gojo.” A pleased smile touched Utahime’s face, and she tucked her hands into the sleeves of her white shirt. “I was talking about Minijo.”
“... Minijo ?” Gojo echoed dumbly.
Utahime nodded, raising her hands. “Yes, I decided to name him.”
Gojo’s jaw hung open, eyes bulging out of his sockets from behind the blindfold when Utahime reached into the dip of her neckline, easily tugging out his plushie from between her— her—!The mechanics in his brain halted. Gojo gaped openly, stunned into absolute silence. Why had she put that there—
“It’s so he stays close to my heart,” Utahime answered him with a snort. Gojo clamped his mouth shut, realizing that he had unconsciously voiced his thoughts out loud.
His brows knitted together. “Did you just call that thing a he—“
“He’s nicer than you,” Utahime interrupted, hands gently clasped around the toy as she tucked it under her chin. She pressed her lips against the back of the plushie’s face, hiding an amused smile when Gojo’s mouth dipped into a frown. “He doesn’t annoy me or speak disrespectfully to me.”
Utahime lifted the plushie, and Gojo’s brows creased even more as she squished the soft toy against her cheek. His gaze flitted between the lipstick mark on the plushie’s face and the rosy pink color of her pouty lips.
“And he lets me touch him.”
“... What ?”
“He doesnt use any stupid cursed technique to stop me from touching him,” Utahime elaborated smoothly, the smile on her face widening as she pecked the plushie’s cheek. “Or kissing him.”
Gojo stared at her incredulously.
Hazelnut eyes glimmered in mischief, and Utahime’s smirked. “He’s better than you in every way, Gojo.”
Utahime reveled in the way how a scowl graced Gojo’s features, lips parting before slamming shut again. Utahime straightened her shoulders, the smirk firmly plastered on her face as she brushed past him.
“Your students must be waiting.”
A hand shot out, snatching the plushie out of her grasp. Utahime pivoted on her heel, violet locks whipping behind her as Gojo gripped the plushie tight. She set him with a glare, reaching for the plushie. “Give it back!”
“No way!” Gojo balked, holding the plushie over his head and away from her outstretched arms. “This doll isn’t better than me!”
“It’s not a doll, it’s a plushie!” Utahime corrected, standing on the tips of her toes as she vainly attempted to retrieve her possession. “And it’s mine!”
“Well, whatever the hell it is!” Gojo snapped back, irritation slipping into his tone. “I’m better than some stupid toy, Utahime!”
Utahime glowered. “You’re being ridiculous—ah!”
A strong arm slid around her waist, tugging her flush against him. Her breath hitched, brown eyes going round as Gojo swiftly yanked the blindfold down his face. Sharp iridescent blues gazed down at her, warmth creeping up the back of her neck and coloring her ears as Gojo brushed his nose against her, those piercing blue hues hardened into ice as he murmured. His breath fanned across her lips, and her heart threatened to burst out of her chest.
“You can touch me, Utahime.”
His mouth sealed over hers. A hand cupped the back of her head, holding her in place, and Utahime dug her fingers into Gojo’s shoulders, her face unbearably hot. She squeezed her eyes shut, squeaking when a warm tongue dragged across her lips.
Utahime patted his shoulders hurriedly, signalling to let her breathe. Her face flushed a bright shade of scarlet as Gojo leaned back, childishly pouting down at her.
She clenched her jaw, hating how soft his lips had felt against hers.
“You idiot!” Utahime hissed, blushing furiously when Gojo buried his face in the crook of her neck.
“Utahimeeee!” He whined shamelessly, hot breath ghosting across her skin and forcing her whole form to shudder. “Try marking me up with that lipstick instead!”
“Gojo!” She began warningly, a gasp escaping her lips as Gojo dragged her back.
Utahime stumbled backwards, clutching his shoulders firmly and squawking as his arm tightened around her waist, holding her close as he reached behind them to twist open a doorknob.
Her fingers carded through silvery white hair this time—not threads— as Utahime tilted her head, eyelids sliding shut when soft, warm lips met her midway. Gojo reached behind him blindly, ushering them inside the empty classroom before his fingers caught the doorknob.
The door fell shut with an echoing slam.
Out in the corridor, the plushie rested forgotten on the floor.
“You’re impossible.”
Utahime let out a sigh, quirking a brow when a lean arm slipped over her shoulders. Gojo scooted closer, squeezing her into his side and she gently nudged him in the ribs. “At least wipe your face.”
“Tired of me already, Utahime?” Gojo teased, fingers drumming on her shoulder. Utahime scowled. “You look stupid. Wipe your face.”
“Nope!” Gojo chirped, and Utahime owlishly stared at how his face was littered with rosy pink lipstick marks. Gojo grinned proudly. “I know I look absolutely ravishing, Utahime. I can take us to your apartment if you want— ow !”
He winced when her elbow jutted him in the ribs again. “Keep doing that and I’ll set Infinity up again.”
“At least wipe your mouth!” Utahime grumbled abashedly, touching her own mouth and tracing her fingertips along the smudged lipstick. She peeked back at his lips, ears burning hot when he smiled with her lipstick stained across his mouth.
Gojo stretched his legs down the marble steps of the corridor, gazing out into the courtyard. “That doll wasn’t the only thing I brought to be honest.”
“You mean, plushie.” Utahime wagged a finger mockingly, smirking when Gojo rolled his eyes. “I actually got something else made with it too.”
Utahime watched curiously as Gojo dug into his pocket, fingers furled into a fist before he held it out before her. He smirked, nudging towards his closed fist with his hand. “Ora, ora! Hold your hand out.”
With an amused look, Utahime obliged, cupping her smaller hands beneath his. Sarcasm slipped into her voice. “Aren’t gonna ask me to close my eyes?”
Gojo grinned toothily, eyes bright and shining. “Nah, you don’t have to close your eyes for this one.”
His fingers uncurled slowly.
Utahime felt her muscles tense when something soft plopped atop her curved palms.
A plushie; strands of violet thread and a silky white ribbon woven between them. She hesitantly traced the toy’s crimson miko skirt, grazing up until her fingertip lingered over the scar sewn across its soft face.
“I had them made as a pair!” Gojo beamed brightly from beside her, taking the plushie from her hands and holding it against his face as he grinned. “It's not as pretty as you. But still cool, huh?"
“...yes.” Utahime admitted quietly, brown eyes warm as soft laughter bubbled past her lips. “Quite cool, indeed.”
Gojo held her plushie out, lips tugged into a sly grin. Utahime raised a brow, but mimicked him anyway as she picked his plushie up from her lap, the tiny blindfold dangling around its neck as she lifted the toy into the air as well.
Utahime rolled her eyes, lips tugged into an amused smile when Gojo tipped her plushie’s face against his. He cooed loudly, adding in his own kissing sound effects.
“Chuuu~!”