Chapter Text
Iori Utahime should have seen the sudden thunderstorm for the bad omen that it was.
Instead, once the heavy downpour began, she had gladly welcomed it, basking in its dark ambiance; of the steady and fierce pitter-patter of water against the tiled roof and how the ground seemed to shudder each time lightning struck the earth. Even if it meant it would be cold and muddy, Utahime had always loved the sound of rain, especially at night. At the time, it seemed like a godsend to accompany her as she worked overtime as a teacher’s assistant at Tokyo Tech, the only one in the empty teacher’s room. Her last week as teacher’s assistant, she should clarify, because, after so many years of working her ass off, she was officially going to start her new post at Kyoto Tech as the second year’s teacher.
Which was probably why the first years’ teacher she assisted was taking advantage of her one last time and had left all the grading to her. Again.
Utahime glanced at the clock on her desk once more, its second-hand clunking onward to read 11:03 p.m. She should have already been home, in her wonderful bed and getting ready for the weekend, where she’d finally catch up with Shoko who had been constantly buried under schoolwork and deadlines since the start of the semester. Instead, she was forced to read one bad essay after another.
When she picked up one that had clearly been plagiarized off the internet, she couldn’t help but groan, rubbing her eyes. The student hadn’t even reformatted the page. While the credentials to get into Tokyo Tech were demanding, intelligence really wasn’t a determinator. In fact, it was pretty much bottle of the barrel, and boy, did it show.
As she finished scrawling a big fat F on the paper, her phone rang, jolting her from her troubles. She looked at the screen, recognizing the number, and immediately silenced the call. Not even boredom would make her answer that person’s call.
Returning to her work, she had barely made it through the intro of the next essay before her cellphone chimed, a text:
Idiot:[11:07] pick up
It rang again. She ignored it.
The onslaught of messages immediately poured in.
Idiot:[11:08] oi pick up
Idiot:[11:08] utahime pick up r u so old that you cant hear the phone ring anymore???
Idiot:[11:08] i know youre reading my messages
Idiot:[11:08] im gonna keep bothering you until you answer so pick up
Idiot:[11:08] pick up pick up pick up pickup pickup pickuppickuppickupickup!!!!
Idiot:[11:08] im stranded and injured send help
Idiot:[11:09] …If you don’t call me back in five seconds, I’m going to tell everyone about the time we made out.
Utahime flew across the desk, fingers flying across the keypad. The dial tone picked up and she didn’t waste a second on pleasantries. “Don’t you dare spread those repulsive lies around, Gojo Satoru! I would never kiss a brat like you!”
A familiar annoying laugh answered. “I knew that last one would get you. And what do you mean by repulsive? Kissing me would be the highlight of your life.”
“Never meeting you would be the highlight of my life, but seeing as that not possible anymore, I’ll settle for extreme limitation of interactions.” She sandwiched the phone between her ear and shoulder as she continued her work. “Why are you bothering me so late anyway? I’m busy.”
A car horn sounded loudly through the phone, the faint city sounds a faint backdrop as he spoke. “Well, if you’d answered earlier I would have already told you why. You wouldn’t be dodging my calls now, would you? I wasn’t able to get in contact with you last time either.”
She cleared her throat, vaguely recalling hitting end on his call last month. “Must have had bad cell service.”
He chuckled, the deep sound reverberating in her ear. Somehow, it sounded rough and gravelly, as if he hadn’t slept in days.“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what it was. You said you’re at work? Don’t you get off after classes end?”
“Supposedly, but the first-year teacher always coincidently manages to have a very important mission to complete when it comes to actually teaching and grading so I’m filling in for now.”
“You’re such a pushover,” he snickered.
She scowled but didn’t correct him. “What do you want, Gojo?”
“What I want, dearest Utahime, is to help you help yourself. I have an assignment that requests two sorcerers. You game?”
“So, in other words, you want to give me more work. And don’t talk to me so casually. It’s Utahime-Senpai. Senpai .”
He blew a raspberry. “Again with that old thing. Come on, when’s the last time you actually went out in the field? Plus, you’ll be hanging out with me, your favorite junior in the whole world.”
She stacked the students’ homework in a neat pile. “That’s Shoko.”
“Whatever, second favorite, then.”
“Nanami.”
“You didn’t even go to school with him! He entered after you graduated.” Lightning flashed through the windows, its thunder following quickly, so loudly that she could hear its echo on the phone. She froze. Was Gojo close by? She shook her head. No, last she heard he was clear across the country, handling some secret assignment or whatever asinine things he did in his spare time.
“Regardless, I’m busy. I can’t go out and play with you, so goodbye.”
“Wait, you can’t just—!”
She hung up, thoughts of Gojo forgotten as she moved for the next pile but a page fluttered to the floor, just beneath her desk. She shimmied down after it, fingertips grazing the edge.
A low voice spoke, “So you’re too busy to come with me, but you have plenty of time to play hide-and-seek?”
Utahime started, her head crashing against the hard roof of her wooden desk. She yelped, quickly scampered out to find Gojo, as smug as ever, leaning against her work area. It’d been months since she’d last seen him face-to-face and she’d forgotten that at the age of twenty, he was still technically maturing. He seemed larger and sharper than before, his loose sorcerer outfit doing little to hide his large build. Standing at 6’3, with broad shoulders and an air around him that seemed to dominate much more space than he was entitled to, he wasn’t exactly the stealth type, making it all the more jolting to see him practically materialize out of thin air.
“Dammit, Gojo, I told you to stop using your cursed energy to sneak up on me like that!” She dragged herself up to her seat, rubbing her aching head. “You almost gave me a concussion.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, eyes hidden away by a pair of black opaque glasses. “Want me to kiss it and make it better?”
She growled. “What I want is to know what the hell you’re doing here. I already told you over the phone, I’m busy.” She emphasized her point by waving a hand at her cluttered desk.
Gojo stared down at her work, clearly unimpressed. “Yes, how riveting it must be, spending your Friday night doing someone else’s work.”
She arched a brow. “As opposed to doing yours?”
“Touché,” he grinned, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “But at least if you come with me you’ll get to hit something.”
“Please tell me that’s you offering yourself,” she said, voice saccharine sweet.
That roguish smile only grew and she caught a flash of his sharp canines as he leaned in close, hands curling around the armrests of the chair, caging her in. Her reflection stared back at her through his frames.“You know, I don’t actually like it all that rough but I might just be willing to let myself be pushed around a little if it’s you.”
Some odd tingling sensation lapped at her lower belly at his proximity, but she chalked it up as revulsion. She brought her lips to his ear and whispered, “You’re disgusting,” before swiveling her chair out of reach. “And a nuisance, so kindly see yourself out.”
Gojo clicked his tongue and threw himself on the chair beside hers, crossing his absurdly long legs atop the neighboring desk. Utahime hoped that the third-year teacher didn’t mind the muddy footprints.
“You know, ever since you got this position you’ve been so boring. You’re twenty-three and act like you’re some geriatric misanthrope. I can’t imagine what you’re going be like in ten years.”
“If I even get there,” she mumbled absentmindedly, sorting through her files. “And I don’t act like that. I like plenty of people, just not you.” She expected his usual diatribe but instead, only silence greeted her. When he didn’t respond, she looked up, finding his gaze already on her. His glasses had slipped down the bridge of his nose, showing those electric blue eyes that were always kept hidden. Expect tonight they were bloodshot, missing their usual sheen, the colors somehow dull, dimmed. For the first time, Utahime noted the pallid complexion, juxtaposed by the heavy dark circles under his eyes. Something flashed in them, so quickly she swore it was a trick of the light. But the sudden pit in her stomach told her otherwise.
Sighing, she set down her files, facing him head-on. “How long is this assignment going to take?”
Gojo practically shot up from his seat, sitting up quickly. “With you and me, we’ll be done in thirty minutes! If you let me move us in, we could even be finished before midnight.”
She bit her cheek, mulling it over. “The pay?”
Her eyes bulged at the number she heard. The wage gap between them was so unfair!
“Split it 50-50?”
He snorted. “Keep dreaming. 80-20.”
She pouted. “60-40. I’m not going anywhere with you for less.”
He opened his mouth and closed it. Tried again. Ran a hand through his hair, leaving the silver locks far more disheveled than they had been. Then he buried his face in his hands, breathing out a slow exhale before finally composing himself. “Fine,” he conceded, offering his hand to shake. “60-40, since you’re hurting for cash.”
“Say’s the stingy silver spoon.” She slipped her hand to his, callous skin against callous skin. Whatever he responded was swallowed by space as he teleported them out.
And then there was only darkness.