Chapter Text
The Present
Occasionally, Utahime would have dreams so vivid, so real and emotional that she would wake feeling the remnants of those dreams. Sometimes it was tears pooling in her eyes, or the warmth of happiness in her chest. Sometimes it was the feeling of hands, brushing through her hair, caressing her skin, touching her in ways no one else before had. The feeling of lips against hers, her fingers running down his torso, and the sounds of pleasure and lust engraving itself in her body.
But, when she woke, the more seconds that passed, the more the dreams would start to slip through the cracks. Only moments before she had felt that she could reach out and touch him, but then the dreams would join the memories she’d lost ten years ago.
She wasn’t sure how or when, but it started to come back to her, outside of her sleep. Perhaps little bits of memory had been unfolding in her brain since she had made plans to go see Shoko for her birthday. Or when she had woken up this morning, a fresh and well rested brain retrieving lost information. Maybe was it when she saw the young couple sit down in front of her.
A quick glance at the young pair wouldn’t have made many look twice, and yet she couldn’t take her eyes away. There was just something so familiar about it, as if she’d seen them before somewhere. With their backs to her, she could only see the sides of their faces when they turned to each other.
The girl had shoulder length black hair, though bits of it escaped at her temples, it was plaited back into two braids, one resting on each side of the head. Like pigtails. The boy’s hair was cut short, probably only a few inches, but it was bleached. It had been bleached so thoroughly that there was barely any colour left. It looked pure white, like freshly fallen snow.
They were talking quietly together, their shoulders bumping each other ever so often. Whether they were a couple wasn’t clear, but Utahime could tell that they wanted to be. The smiles they gave to each other were devoid of any deceptions and were easily given. Constantly their bodies moved in a way that made Utahime believe they were touching each other. All telltale signs of innocent and youthful love.
Her hand shot to her head as she was sure she could feel a tug on her hair, like when she was younger and wore her hair in two parts. Whenever he was close enough, Gojo would tug on the end of her hair, not too rough to hurt, but enough for her to know he was there.
She couldn’t help but watch them, it was hypnotising. Her eyes locked on them as the boy leaned down to say something in her ear, a whisper, probably something too inappropriate to say out loud. The girl looked back at him, an aghast look on her face, but with a slight hint of amusement, and then shoved him slightly. They both laughed and as she turned away from him he leaned back in and placed a kiss on her cheek.
But as she stared at the young couple, she could feel something coming back to her in waves. It felt as though she were standing on a beach, and the memories from her youth would come in with a wave, remnants would be left along the shore as the water wet the sand, but the whole ocean still stood well beyond her reach.
The Past
Utahime sat down on the bus seat, resting her bag on her legs and started putting away her travel card. She felt a nudge from beside her as someone sat down besides her, she had sat close to the middle of the seat and there had barely been any room for someone else to fit.
Before she looked she knew that it was obviously Gojo, he had promised that he would help her with setting up Shoko’s birthday party. She rolled her eyes as she said, “Why can’t you just sit somewhere else, Gojo?”
He shrugged and lightly shoved his side into hers, “I wanna sit with my favourite senpai.”
When she didn’t give up any ground, he pushed a little harder and she felt as she slid across the seat. His side was no longer pressed up against hers as he settled back into the seat, however, she could feel his heat seeping into her and his thigh and shoulder would brush hers with the sway of the bus.
She only had a few moments of peace until she felt a pressure on her scalp as he tugged on the ends of her hair, “Have I ever told you how cute these are?” He teased her as he pulled his hand away from her hair.
Annoyance and embarrassment flushed her cheeks, “I am your elder, Gojo. You can’t call me cute.” She was always bewildered with how he felt so comfortable with saying such impolite things to her, always teasing her. Even his brazen touching was out of bounds, no one ever touched her as casually as he did, well, no boy ever did.
“I can. And I did.”
A huff let out from her mouth, she looked at him and told him sternly, “Well, you shouldn’t. I’m a grown woman, I’m not cute.”
He shrugged and looked away from her, as if he were bored with the conversation, and his attention was now focused on the outside. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t wear such cute pigtails.”
She couldn’t tell if the flush on her cheeks were because she was mad, or a little embarrassed. Boys didn’t call Utahime cute, they called her boring instead.
“So, how does this work? The driver pulls over at every stop?” he sounded genuinely curious, as if he really didn’t understand how buses worked.
“Of course. You probably got driven everywhere your whole life.” Sometimes she forgot just how different their lives were. While she had grown up in a fairly small village, with parents making just enough money to get by; he had grown up in a big city, with chauffeurs. The most important person in his world. He would have had everything and anything he ever wanted, the idea that someone like that would ever catch the bus was ridiculous.
Strangely though, even though Gojo was a grade-a jerk and completely up himself, he never threw around his clan connects. And it was more than just being related to a big clan leader, he was slated to become one in the next few years. Of one of the big three no less. She could give him credit for that at least.
Only a few seconds had passed since she opened her mouth when she turned to look at him. He had his hands twined together sitting on his lap, she couldn’t see his eyes, mostly covered by his glasses, but he was looking straight ahead. His attention was focused on a small child near the front of the bus, she wondered if there were many children in his clan.
It was in moments like this she was reminded how young he is, when she got a good look at him, without wanting to murder him. His face was still slightly round, cheeks holding on to the last scrap of childhood plumpness, not a single hair graced his face and his skin possessed the healthy glow of youth.
She had never, and she suspected she would never, be able to read Gojo. A part of her worried that he might be nursing a fractured heart, that Geto’s defection and the collapse of his relationship with Shoko was wearing at him. When Geto had massacred all those people and his parents, it felt like their whole world had changed. Everyone had been effected by it, but none more than Gojo.
It felt as though every time he opened his mouth recently he meant less and less of his words. He’d always been the type to let whatever he thought come falling out of his mouth, but now it felt like he said things to specifically piss people off. It occurs to her that maybe he’s doing it deliberately. Maybe he was trying to push everyone away.
He broke her out of her thoughts when she saw him sticking his tongue out in a teasing manner, the child at the front of the bus was returning the gesture. But once their mother caught sight of their antics, she chastised them and she could hear Gojo chuckle from beside her. She honestly felt like chastising Gojo as well.
“You have to press the button. The driver will hear it and pull over”. She nods her head in the direction of the button, hoping that it will distract him from the small child.
His focus fixates on the button on the pole, “This one?”
She makes a sound of confirmation and he does something that she later thinks that she definitely should have seen coming. He, of course, reaches over and presses the button.
“Gojo!” her hand darts over and swats his hand away, or his infinity she supposed. He has the gall to smile at her as she questions him, “Why did you do that!?”.
He shrugs, “I wanted to see how it worked.”
“Ugh.” She stands up from her seat and yells to the bus driver that they accidentally pushed the button, apologies running from her mouth. She notices as one of the other passengers, an older lady, gives her an unimpressed look.
Embarrassment reddens Utahime’s cheeks and if she didn’t want to kill Gojo before, she did now.
Sitting back down, she huffs. Her arms are crossed across her chest and she tries her best to not notice Gojo out of the corner of her eye. He stretches out his arms above him, letting out something between a yawn and a groan. Then instead of letting his arms come back down to rest on his lap, he puts his arm around the back of their seat, his hand dangling near her shoulder, his fingertips grazing her skin.
She tries to shrug away his hand, “Don’t, Gojo.”
His hand doesn’t move, “C’mon, Utahime. It’s uncomfortable sitting on this cramped little seat. I gotta put my arm somewhere.”
“Then sit somewhere else!” His lack of common decency continues to grate on her nerves and she smacks his hand away. His hand now a safe distance from her skin, although still resting on the back of the seat.
She hears him sigh a little, as if he was disappointed in her!
Maybe 20 seconds pass when he finally breaks the silence, “You know, having someone to drive you anywhere you want to go is only cool if you have somewhere to go,” he says solemnly.
Being the heir to the Gojo clan, he would have mostly been confined to the Gojo estate as a child, it would have been his whole world. What reason could there have been for him to go anywhere else? His education would have taken place behind the walls, any friends he might have had would have lived on the estate. They had doctors, chefs, anything you could want or need. Besides freedom she supposes. Another part of their lives that was so different.
If it weren’t for the fact that he was so powerful he probably wouldn’t have been able to have as much freedom as he did now. There’s no way they’d let him wander around Tokyo without a guardian, he’d have an entourage. Most clan heads didn’t participate in exorcisms, their power was reserved for themselves. Gojo was different in that regard as well.
The only reason she met him for the first time four years ago, before he was officially a Jujutsu Tech student, was because there was a special grade curse causing trouble. All of the big hitters were outside of Tokyo, or indisposed, so they let him loose.
She was starting to almost feel bad for snapping so much when she caught a glimpse of his expression. Only moments ago he seemed forlorn regarding his upbringing, now though he seemed pleased. No doubt he was simply trying to gain some sympathy from her, it was the only times when she actively ignored his bad behaviour.
She huffed and looked away from him, annoyed with his manipulations. Only a second later she felt as his whole arm left the back of the seat and draped around her shoulders, his hand now dangling in front of her chest.
‘He is insufferable!’ She thought. With his arm around her like it was, she was being pressed into his side more than before. The heat of his body now was seeping into her, and his body spray was more clear and potent. Thinking about it, it was probably some expensive cologne, because no other boy had ever smelt like this before. It wasn’t that over the top kind of body spray that teenage boys lathered themselves in, instead it was subtle. It smelt like the kind of cologne that a man would wear. A rich man, as even just by scent she could tell it was expensive.
Blood rushed to her face when she realised that he was holding her almost like a boyfriend might hold their girlfriend. She hadn’t experienced much in the way of dating or boys really, and even if it weren’t Gojo and a boy she actually liked, this was too far.
She tried to shrug his arm off of her shoulders again, though it didn’t budge and it didn’t seem like he even noticed.
“So,” drawing out the ‘O’ sound, “have you had any luck with boys recently, Senpai?” his neck slightly bent towards her, a wicked smile mocked her just as much as his words did.
“That is none of your business, Gojo.”
“That’s a no.”
Once again she smacked his hand away from her when it got too close, “Shut up! And keep your hands to yourself!”
His hand came to rest against her again, “I’m just worried, Utahime. A woman your age needs to start looking for the right man to settle down with.”
Her head whipped to look straight at him. Outrage and disbelief had her blood pumping through her veins as she contemplated just hitting him, but she knew if she did she’d likely just hurt herself and he’d feel nothing.
He kept on talking, not looking at her anymore, “You’re pretty weak as a sorcerer but I feel like you’d make a great housewife. Ooh, and a mom. You’d be great at that, you were always telling us all what to do and getting worried about us. Very maternal.”
Noticing that they were about to approach their destination she thanked all the gods, reaching over him she pushed on the button. Looking at him with her deadliest glare, she spoke “Get. Up.”
He somehow managed a look of disbelief and held his hands up in defence, “Hey, I’m just expressing my concern! There’s no need to run off in a huff.”
She couldn’t help the feral little growl that escaped her throat, pushing on his chest so that he would get off the seat and she could get past him. “We’re at our stop you idiot!”
“Oh.”
She stormed off the bus, not before politely thanking the bus driver, and stomped down the sidewalk.
She couldn’t believe the absolute gall of him! Not only did he think that he had any right to be asking her questions about her personal life like that, but insinuating that she’s too weak to be a sorcerer! Part of her wanted to turn right around and give him a piece of her mind, another didn’t want to make a scene in public. Not to mention she’d made a promise to herself to stop letting that jerk make her loose her mind. They weren’t in school anymore, well… she wasn’t.
It wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that before, that she was too weak to be a sorcerer. But she didn’t know what to make of the whole, ‘You’d make a great wife and/or mother’ thing. He’d never said anything like that before. It sounded like something her parents would say, or perhaps some of the older sorcerers. Their community may have evolved as the world around them did, but there were still a lot of prejudices around women working as jujutsu sorcerers.
She’s never heard him say anything like that about any of the other women sorcerers. Shoko has a non-combative techniques, and yet, he’d never said anything like that about her! Although, Shoko went out into the field far less than her.
Despite her not turning around to look, she knew that he was following her. It was surprising he hadn’t caught up to her already, with those giant legs of his.
Utahime looks down at the address written down on a piece of paper, given to her by Mei Mei the day before. She didn’t really have a lot of spare time to put the party together, so Mei Mei had given her the address to a party planning store that sold bundles of supplies.
But as she looks up at the narrow stairs between a convenience store and an izakaya, there was only one sign that she could find. A small sign with the words ‘The Love Box’ on it, little hearts and ribbons were decorating the background. Looking once again up the stairs, where she could see nothing except the end of a hallway.
“This doesn’t look like a party supply store.” She says nervously, once again checking the address to make sure they match.
Gojo finally comes to stand next to her and also peers up the stairway. “There’s little ribbons on the sign, and it’s the same address on the paper.”
He comes up behind her and ushers her up the stairs. As they’re walking up the steep and carpeted steps, he’s able to lean over near her ear and quietly says “I’ll protect you.” He feels her elbow in his ribs only moments later.
They come up to a frosted glass door with the same sign from downstairs hanging on it. She’s becoming more and more unsure about this place, but she didn’t want to back down in front of Gojo.
Once they cross the threshold into the store, Utahime suddenly feels the need to storm from the store and find Mei Mei and murder her. The door closes behind them as they both take in the assortment of… adult paraphernalia across the room.
While there was normal party things, like some party poppers, streamers, balloons, and sparklers. But it seemed as though most goods for sale had an alternative role, or additional. Glasses shaped like genitalia, shirts with the torso displaying ample breasts, light up wands also shaped like genitalia. Everywhere she looked there was lights flashing in a rainbow, bright colours and bold designs. What was a little strange to her was the assortment of costumes along the wall beside her; there were maid costumes, school uniforms, extremely revealing kimono’s, but worst of all, a miko outfit. She wasn’t sure if it was worth her time being offended.
“I think this a sex shop.”
“I think this is heaven.”
Their words overlapped one another. Utahime rolls her eyes as she remembers that she’s with a teenage boy. Of course he’d think this was amazing.
She turns around and starts to head towards the door, “This can’t be right. We’ll just have to find another and be quick about it.”
She doesn’t make it far before his hands clasp around her shoulders and turn her back around, directing her towards the front counter. “I saw some party hats, they were shaped like dicks, but they were still party hats! I’m sure they sell plain party supplies too. Otherwise, why would Mei Mei send us here?”
She groaned as he pushed her closer to the counter, “Because I owe her $10 and she’s doing this to punish me?”
“Hmm, maybe. But still, better to ask before we go anywhere.”
As she reaches the counter they finally get the attention of the young woman working there. She greets them with a polite smile, “Hi, welcome to The Love Box. How can I help you both today?”
“Uh… we are throwing a birthday party for our friend, and another friend of ours, Mei Mei, told me that this would be the best place to come for party supplies… I think I might’ve gotten the wrong address though.” She could kick herself for just how unsure her voice sounded right then, the idea of letting Gojo see her so out of her element was embarrassing and frustrating.
“Oh! You’re a friend of Mei Mei’s, she’s certainly an interesting woman. But don’t worry, she gave us a call and I put some things aside for you. We often cater to bridal and bachelor parties, but we do get a small supply of tame decorations. If you could just wait for 5 minutes, I’ll be right back.” For someone who worked in a shop like this, Utahime was surprised she was so well spoken and polite.
Not long after the woman left, did Gojo also disappear, probably to cause some trouble. It only about a minute until she could hear her name being called from somewhere else in the store. “Utahime! Come here!”
Not particularly wanting to get dragged into whatever freak show he’d discovered, or yell back out at him in a store, she stood her ground, ignoring him. Once again he yelled out her name, almost singing it. One of the only other patrons in the store looked at her, annoyance from the disturbance pulled the eyebrows into a frown. If they weren’t in a shop that sold glasses shaped like genitalia, then she was sure they would have ‘tsk’ed’ at her.
Giving up, she strode through the store, frowning slightly when she realised that there was a division in the store. Walking through the arch that was only separated by a sheer curtain, she walked into a whole different store. She realised that they must be a sister store. She continued to keep her eyes averted from all of the colourful and lewd merchandise as she made her way through the store to find the tall young man. “What do you want, Gojo?”
He pulled something from the rack along the wall and giddily held it up to her, “Do you think I should get this for Shoko? I already got her something bu…”
She is completely shocked as she watches Satoru Gojo wave around a bright pink vibrator, her jaw drops and the hottest flush she’s ever felt heats her face. “Gojo! Put that down!”
He tries to put on a face of shock but his smile breaks free from the facade, “What? I’m just trying to think of her needs!” She tries lunging for the box, but he holds it upwards in the air, and while Utahime isn’t short per se, he is pushing 6’4, and holds it out of her reach.
“This is so inappropriate, Gojo! You can’t buy her that for her birthday!” Jumping on her tippy toes, she almost touches it but he just takes it higher.
“Hime, just because you’re a prude who blushes and faints at the idea of sex, doesn’t mean Shoko is.” He says this in a matter of fact tone, which enrages her even more.
What she wanted to say to him was that she was both his elder and a woman and that it was completely disrespectful for him to be talking to her in that way. But, that isn’t what came out of her mouth, “I am not a prude!”
Still she tried to grab the item out of his hands, not wanting to let his brain hold to the idea of buying that for Shoko. But as she is jumping to try and reach it, she keeps going forward and as she does, her chest comes to press up against his.
His laughter is echoing in her ear as she puts one hand on his shoulder, and tries to use him as leverage to get higher on her toes, now fully leaning on him. Her focus is so fixed on his hands and being so close to her goal that she doesn’t realise that he’s stopped laughing.
Her fingertips touched the box as she turns her attention to his face, now only a few centimetres away from her own and she can feel as his breath warms her face. Their chests are squished together enough that she wonders if he’d be able to feel her breasts against him, the thought is too much and she quickly relinquishes it. She can’t see his eyes from behind his glasses usually, but because of how close they are, she can just barely see that he is looking down. His eyes are settled on her face, but they don’t make eye contact.
It occurs to her once again, just how much he’d grown in the last couple of years. He was so tall already, she hoped that he had stopped growing. Her left hand was still resting on his shoulder, and beneath her fingers she could feel the muscles that he was certainly developing. She knew that he exercised regularly, all jujutsu sorcerers need to keep a certain level of physical adequacy.
His arm starts to slack slightly and she notices it quickly enough that she uses this moment to grab the item from his hand and pulls away from him. She stands there, looking at him, her face still bright red presumably, and he looks dumbfounded. This only lasts for a few seconds.
He regains his composure quickly, switching from absent to cocky in a second. “Utahime, if you really wanted one of those, I can always buy you one for Christmas. You don’t have to jump all over me to get one.”
She sees red as she tries to calm herself down and not let him get to, more so at the very least. “Shut up. The lady is probably waiting for us at the counter, let’s go.”
Once she puts the object of their altercation back, he bows slightly in front of her and uses his hands to point towards the front counter, a ‘ladies first’ gesture. As she walks past him, she’s fairly certain she can see a slight blush on his cheeks.
The Present
Utahime felt like she was coming out of a daze, like she was in the middle of a daydream, she shakes her head trying to rid herself of the fuzziness and confusion. Her eyes refocusing, as the streets of Tokyo became clearer and the noises of the traffic become audible.
She sits there, dazed and confused as she tries to work through what she’s just seen. It had felt so vivid, so real, like a memory. She can remember the feeling of frustration and embarrassment when Gojo pushed the button on the bus. How it felt when he squished onto that seat with her, the smell of his cologne, although it was different to the one he wore now. The firmness of his shoulder as she held onto it, trying to grab the vibrator from his hands. How embarrassed and aware she felt as her breasts pressed against his chest.
As she thought over it, it felt like a memory, it felt strange to her that she’d ever forgotten it. It had to have been one of the memories she had lost all those years ago.
When she had lost her memories in the early days of 2010, they had told her that she could regain her memories in a few days, weeks, months, or even years. Or possibly never. That was almost ten years ago. Ever since then she’d never had a full and tangible memory ever come back to her. The only time she ever recalled anything about that time was in her sleep, and they’d never stay with her for long. All she could remember was that she had them, the emotional remnants leaving their mark on her, whether it be tears on her cheeks, a smile on her lips, or an ache between her thighs. If they were even memories at all.
It truly begged the question, why now? Why him? Why was the first memory that she’d recalled been of Gojo? Perhaps it was just a coincidence, he had called her earlier about what she’d gotten Shoko for her birthday. Or was Gojo, him? The man from her nighttime memories.
And if this truly was her regaining her memories, did that mean she’d remember more? Would she be able to piece together exactly why it was she was attacked by a curse user? Would she be able to figure out just who it was that she’d been seeing in her dreams? Would she figure out why it was that she was left in a hospital room trying to cope with her aching wounds all alone.
Walking into the izakaya she was determined to have a good night. No more theorising about the memory, if she would gain any more, why Gojo of all people was at the centre of it, and certainly no more thoughts about that hospital room. She shrugged off her coat, already too hot in the warm establishment, and scanned the room for a sign of her friends. It only took her a few moments to locate who she was looking for, the stark white hair of Mei Mei standing out.
As she walked to the table she saw everyone. Mei Mei and Ijichi were sitting across from each other, holding some conversation. Next to Ijichi was Shoko then Nanami, they seemed to be in conversation with one of their mutual friends, Hiroshi Ito. Ito had graduated from Jujutsu Tech a year before Utahime, at the Kyoto school. While they hadn’t been close friends in their youth, once they all graduated they would often work together when he moved to Tokyo. She and Ito had often been partnered together on missions over the years, which had fostered a good relationship between the two.
She saw as Shoko’s attention settled on her, raising her hand up and waving at her “Utahime!” It had been several weeks since she had seen Shoko, having been too busy to make it to Tokyo. The heads of both Nanami and Ito turned to her, Ito having to turn around in his position. They both gave her a greeting as she rounded the table to give Shoko a quick hug and pulled out her present from her purse.
“Happy Birthday, Shoko.” She says to the seated woman before she heads back around the table to sit down next to Ito, preferring to be able to see Shoko.
“So, have I missed much?”
“Not really, we all pretty much just got here.” Ito tells her as he flips his black shaggy hair out of his eyes.
The waiter comes around to their table and after ordering some drinks, they all fall into easy conversations. They’ve all known each other since their teens, some even earlier, and with that comes comfort and the ease of conversation.
But not long passes before someone mentions the missing guest, “Gojo was supposed to come, yes?” Mei Mei asks while sipping some vile looking cocktail.
Shoko nods, “He texted me that he’d be a little late. His mission is taking a little longer than usual.”
“That’s good. It isn’t a party without Gojo, is it?” Mei Mei says in her trademark provocative voice. Utahime rolls her eyes, knowing Mei Mei was only happy he was coming so that he’d pay for the tab, as she usually pestered him into doing.
“Is it?” Utahime asks quietly, almost to herself.
Ito laughs besides her, “What is it with you two? Always riling each other up?”
Exasperation grips at her, “I don’t rile him up! He’s the one who’s so rude all of the time!”
“He does seem to push it further with you though.” Nanami pipes in, sounding and looking concerned. She knew he didn’t like the way that Gojo was with Utahime, often chastising him when she was too far gone in the passion of her annoyance and rage to do so.
She groans and then pleads with the table, “Can we please not talk about Gojo? Please.”
“But I’m the most interesting person here. Or anywhere.” Of course he would have the worst possible timing imaginable. Almost everyone at the table groans at his statement, save for Ijichi and Mei Mei.
She turns to look at him, not being able to help herself, and sees that even though he had been held up by a mission, he’s taken the time to change. He wore black trousers, a white button up, and a black jacket, and though they were simple in style, they would have cost a fortune, and would probably be incredibly soft to the touch. And instead of wearing his usual black blindfold, he wore a pair of darkened glasses, his hair falling around his face.
He looked frustratingly handsome, he almost always did. It was a thought that she tried to stay away from. It was never a good idea to think lustfully of someone that you worked with, not to mention someone you rarely could have a conversation with without loosing your temper.
But with the memory of them together as teens, added with how good he looked tonight, it was too much to completely ignore. She couldn’t help it as she flushed slightly, remembering how it felt to grip onto his shoulders. The arms of his button up shirt had been rolled up to his forearms, revealing his muscled forearms and the slight hair dusting his skin. He placed his jacket next to her and pushed back his hair from his eyes as it fell when he sat down. He looked… gorgeous.
It took her moment before she realised that he had sat down next to her on the tatami. She wanted nothing more than to push him away and force him to go sit next to Nanami, but she was an adult and she could handle him sitting next to her. Probably.
“So what were you guys saying about me? How devastatingly amazing and sexy I am?” He breaks out a smile, usually she would just find it goofy, but there was something wrong with her tonight and her libido was running wild.
She scoffs at him, shamelessly forgetting how she was almost drooling over him only a few seconds prior. She can see Gojo’s attention shoot to her at the sound from her periphery vision, probably formulating a comment already.
Thankfully Ito comes to her rescue, “We were just wondering why you and Utahime are always riling each other up.”
Gojo laughs a little, leaning over slightly he wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side. “Well that’s because she’s so cute when she’s angry.”
She slaps his hand away from her, deja vu hitting her hard. “Don’t Gojo.”
Before she gets a chance to derail the current conversation, Gojo actually does it before she gets a chance to. “Hey Ito, still stuck at grade 2?”
Everyone else at the table has seemed to move onto their own conversations, seemingly ready to just ignore Gojo. She would love to have that luxury, but as she was currently sitting between Gojo and Ito, it made it a little difficult. “Gojo.” She warns him.
Ito gives a little chuckle, handling the slight dig better than most probably would. He had been stuck at Grade 2 for years, probably ten, and with Gojo being not only several years younger than him and also a special grade, it was obviously a taunt. “No, I got Grade 1 only a few months ago.” But Ito always managed to rise above his taunts.
“Congratulations.” Gojo reached over her back and gave Ito a pat on his shoulder, and from the sound of contact, it had to have been harder than was necessary.
“Great, I’m in the middle of some male tiff,” she thinks. Trying her best to just ignore the two of them, she takes a sip of her beer and pretends to listen to the conversation happening at the other end of the table.
“Thank you, but I should probably be saying that to you.” Ito responds.
Utahime frowns, a little confused as to what he could mean. “Hmm?” she asks.
Looking at Ito she can feel as Gojo stills and his cursed energy wavers for a moment. Because of her familiarity with the cursed energy around her she notices, but she doubts anyone else would have. It was a strange occurrence, Gojo typically wasn’t affected by anything and certainly not a stray comment.
Ito looks at her confused face and explains himself, turning to look at Gojo apologetically. “Oh, sorry. I thought everyone knew about your betrothal.”
Betrothal? “Betrothal?” her voice mimicked her thoughts, and louder than she had intended. Whipping her head around to face the white haired man beside her.
For second he doesn’t react, just looks past her at Ito. He doesn’t have a single expression on his face, bar perhaps slight amusement. But she was pretty sure that his face was just stuck like that.
Then he looks away, his eyes flicking to hers as he does, and takes a bite of his food. He speaks with his mouth half full, “Thank you, but I am still a free man.”
“Wait, did I just hear that you’re betrothed?” Shoko cuts into the conversation, their other discussion obviously abandoned.
Utahime glanced at the table and saw that everyone was looking at Gojo, their expressions were of utter disbelief, reflecting her own. Except for Ito and Mei Mei. It wouldn’t surprise her that Mei Mei already knew, she had so many ‘friends’ involved in the clans. Moreover the Ito clan was a moderately successful clan itself, and although Hiroshi Ito was not in line to become head, his eldest brother was.
He groans at the questioning and dramatically throws his head back as he does so, “It’s just clan bullshit. They do this every year, try and set me up with their granddaughters. It never works, I am the clan head after all.”
“I heard that it was more than just bullshit this time. That you met with the girl last week,” Mei Mei says from the other end of the table whilst casually scrolling through her phone, either faking indifference or genuinely not interested.
Gojo replies to her, “Interested in my love life, are you, Mei? A little jealous?”
She laughs, “I think even I couldn’t put up with you for that inheritance.”
Shoko continues to question Gojo about it, but Utahime only half pays attention. The idea of Gojo getting married was a bit of a funny one. He was the most immature person she’d ever known in her entire life, especially considering the stakes of holding the power that he does. But he is the head of his clan, and in the matter of legitimate heirs, he’s seriously lacking. Most clan heads were married young, early 20s at least, and then produced and heir and a spare by the time they were 30. Gojo was closing in on his 30th birthday.
Over the years he’d make comments about a date or some woman he’d be seeing every now and then, but she’d never actually seen him with anyone. She had assumed that he just must not date other sorcerers and only civilians. But perhaps it was always just women in the clans, she tended to stay away from all of that.
Gojo seems to be making it seem like it’s no big deal with the way he’s almost defending himself from Shoko’s questions. But Utahime knows that once word about a betrothal get out, it’s usually followed by a wedding invitation. Not that she would ever get one.
When she imagines Gojo standing next to his bride, both wearing their traditional kimono’s, tying themselves together, she feels a flutter in her stomach. It’s chaos in her mind as she flickers through translucent visions of Gojo’s future, his marriage, his children all with his colouring, she can see herself older and alone, perhaps even teaching the next Gojo heir.
She decides to order another drink.
The rest of the night manages to go well, they all catch up, talk about the newest TV show or movie, the recent baseball season, much to Utahime’s excitement, some of the up and coming sorcerers. And every single time she sees him from the corner of her eye, hears him say something, or he accidentally touches her, she takes a sip from her drink. Of course, she ends up doing this a lot.
About two hours later she is past the tipsy line but fortunately not actually drunk. Unfortunately though, she hadn’t planned to be drinking tonight, and had wanted to catch the train back to Kyoto for the school day tomorrow. “At least I haven’t thought about my memories coming back at all,” she thinks. The reminder instantly sours her alcohol brightened mood.
She checks her phone, rechecking the train times back to Kyoto she decides that her best option is probably to get an Uber to come and take her to the station. She had planned to just take a bus or walk, but with how she had drank, she didn’t trust she wouldn’t end up sprawled on the pavement.
Excusing herself from the table, she gets up with her bag and phone and heads to the bathroom, needing to pee before her departure. The moment she takes a step away from the table her world starts to spin and she almost trips over her shoes. “I think I drank more than I should have,” she thinks, a little annoyed with herself.
Planting both her feet apart, she makes sure that she is properly balanced and continues on her trip to the bathroom. She doesn’t make it very far before she feels a hand softly land on her lower back. She can feel the heat of a body coming up close behind her and then the voice says, “Utahime.”
Flashes of a sensation run through her body, the feeling of hands sliding down her bare back. She was sitting on the thighs of another person, the naked skin of their chests were touching. Her breasts pressed against his chest and her nipples rubbed against his skin as his head was rested in the crook of her shoulder. Feminine moans floated to her ears, her own she realises, and she notices another sound, a sound of wet skin slipping against one another intimately. His hands were at the lowest part of her back and hip, pushing and pulling at her body onto his own. “Utahime… ah…” a voice whined in her ear.
She stumbled forward, trying to get away from the hand at her back. Without looking back she knew who it was touching her, but she turned to see Gojo standing there anyway. For a split second he looked concerned, but a look of amusement overtook it in a second. “Has the prim and proper Utahime had too much to drink?”
Walking away from him she retorted, “Don’t talk like you’ve never seen me drink before.” Trying to keep some semblance of control over the situation.
She almost instantly regrets rejecting his hand at her back, as she mistakes the distance between where she puts her foot and where it actually goes, almost falling over onto a table. Thankfully, or perhaps dreadfully, Gojo is fast enough that he can catch her, snaking an arm around the front of her waist, and pulls her away from the table. He takes basically her whole body weight with the arm, her feet are left to try and catch up as he walks. Only barely getting them on the ground every few steps. “Gojo, put me down,” she cries.
Heat rushes to her cheeks as his scent drifts to her nose, the aroma was warm and masculine. The feeling of his arm so securely around her middle and her feet grazing the ground making her feel a little nervous. Behind her she can feel the solidness of his chest, she always forgot how strong he was underneath that uniform.
“I think you kind of like it when I save you,” he says, sounding way too pleased for her liking. They reach the outside of the bathroom when he lets go of her, his hand dragging across her belly as he lets go of her. The warmth of him at her back is replaced by the tepid temperature of the room, and for a moment she misses him.
She’ll punish herself for that thought later on.
Grumbling a ‘thank you’ to him, she turns her back to the wall so she could lean against it.
“So, what had caused my sweet senpai to drink to excess tonight? Boy problems?” he leans in with his shoulder against the wall next to her.
Utahime scoffed, closing her eyes she rested her head back against the wall, hoping that the world would stop spinning. “Shut up, Gojo.”
He chuckles at her, and then he is silent. The only thing she can hear is the sound of the other patrons and employees, their utensils clicking, the laughs and the hum of conversation. It’s usually very soothing, but with the way she feels right now, it’s all too overwhelming.
Her breathing becomes faster as her chest clenches, she feels like all of the heat in her body is being drained and she can’t help the shiver. Even though her eyes are closed, she can see the bare white walls of the hospital. The simple clock on the wall that would tick with every second that passed, she swears she can hear it. The feeling of pain across her face and abdomen is brutal, her pain medication not substantial enough, but her doctor says anymore will do more harm.
“Why am I thinking about that? Why do I feel like I’m right there? In that room. Loosing myself again.”
“Let me take you home tonight,” he interrupts her thoughts, for which she silently thanks him. And it takes a second for her to even register his proposition, and when she does, she’s sure she’s misunderstood. The alcohol muddies her faculties and for a moment she thinks he might be asking ‘to take her home’, a thinly veiled pretence.
She’s sure her face must mirror her misguided thoughts because he laughs at her, although to his credit, he does look like he’s trying to hold back ever so slightly. He explains his intention, “Let me take you back to your house, and then I’ll leave. You’re way too drunk to be catching the bullet train back. I’d end up loosing sleep thinking you’ve fallen onto the train tracks, and then I’ll be tired tomorrow. Can’t have that”.
Rolling her eyes as she looks away from him, truly wanting nothing more right now than to just be in her bed. She wants to turn off all of her thoughts, and hopefully for the world to stop spinning. She also really needed to pee. And no one likes peeing in a public restroom.
She closes her eyes, not wanting to risk seeing the smug look on his face when she agrees that she is too drunk to take the bullet train home. “Okay,” she says.
“Wait here. I’ll grab your coat and tell the rest I’m taking you home.”
Before she can protest that she’s capable enough to walk back to the table he’s already a whole stride away from her, and when she tries to push off against the wall she feels the world around her whirl again.
She settles back against the wall, watching him as he walks back to the table. When he had touched her it felt like one of her dreams. Her senses were taken over by the… memory? When his hand touched her in the same space that the man in her dreams did, it was like it triggered it. Just like when she had seen those two kids on the bus.
It had been almost ten years since she’d been attacked, why was it only now that she was starting to regain her memories? Waking up in the hospital, hurt, alone, and so confused, had been the worst time of her entire life. She spent days there, in such terrible pain, and always so cold. Feeling like she had lost something that she treasured, something that she loved and wanted to keep was ripped from her hands, and she didn’t even have the memories preserve it.
And he hadn’t been there, whoever he was. Someone who had loved her. She was sure he did…
Her heart clenched just thinking about it, there was a swirling in her stomach that she was sure was more than just the alcohol. “I hate this. I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to know what I lost.”