The next few days came and went uneventfully.
Shoko was very busy. Before Utahime wound up here, curse season was barely picking up. Here, it was in full swing. Curse season was giving its all before it died down for the year, so she couldn't be with Utahime as much as either of them would've liked. But the alone time was good for Utahime, she decided, because it allowed her to gather herself, take stock of her emotions and situation calmly.
Shortly after she broke down in Shoko's arms, she felt a little bashful. Once she collected herself, she apologized. "I don't know what got into me," she said, face flushed with embarrassment. "I don't actually—"
But she never got to finish the thought. The curse halted her words mid-sentence, and at the same time, Shoko's phone started ringing again. It was a different ringtone, one that made her snap into action. An emergency line, she realized when Shoko got up, got her shit together, and got out the door in all of three minutes while her phone was still attached to her ear. She was giving orders, first aid instructions, while she gathered and filled her medical bag and put on her shoes.
She paused by the door before she left and looked back. Utahime shook her head, shooing her away. "I'll be fine here," she assured her, only sniffling a little bit as she braved a smile she barely felt. "Go save the world."
Shoko scoffed, adjusting her phone so the speaker was muffled against her shoulder. "You mean go save some idiots who don't watch their own backs on missions just to make my job harder." She rolled her eyes, but smiled back at Utahime, giving her rapid-fire last minute advice. "You should be good here. Don't worry about Satoru. Ignore him if he makes you uncomfortable. You're welcome to anything but the rabbit. I love you, but we should draw a line somewhere. Keep your phone on you so I can let you know if I'm running late."
Utahime decidedly ignored one of those things. "Okay!"
"Text me what you want to eat for dinner!"
And that was the most she'd said to Shoko since.
She missed Shoko (she always missed Shoko when she was gone), but she couldn't deny she was grateful that she had a bit of breathing room to herself. She let her mind wander as she finished cleaning up: running the dishwasher that night, doing laundry, scrubbing both bathrooms, changing the sheets on Shoko's bed and rolling out the futon for herself in the guest room.
Utahime always wanted children.
It was a strange desire among sorcerers, the ones planning to go into active duty, at least. Out of all the girls she knew at Tokyo Tech — Shoko, Mei, Yuki, and herself — she was the only one who expressed such a desire.
She'd thought at first that it came from her upbringing. Conservative and traditional, destined to become the wife or plaything of some important man, only ending up at Jujutsu High by some series of unforeseeable events. Playing her role and having their kids must've been embedded into her subconsciously, she was sure.
But one day when she said so to Mei, the older girl had turned her head to look at her from where she lay on the grass beside her. "I don't think so, Uta-bug. I came from the same kind of background, you know. And there's nothing I want less than to bring a child into this world." Mei had said the words with her usual glib smile, but there was an undercurrent of hostility to them that was impossible to miss.
"But that makes sense! Why would I want something so obviously inconvenient?" she'd asked at the time.
"Why does anyone want anything?" Mei closed her eyes, drinking in the rays of the late afternoon sun. "You know what I always say, darling. Your desires aren't there to convince you to want them. They're there because you already do. All you need to concern yourself with is whether you'll choose to give yourself what you want and how. Spending time wondering why is a waste."
Following that, Utahime accepted that part of herself a little more. It wasn't a crime, she'd think, to want a family. To experience motherhood. Lots of women wanted to be mothers, so what? She wanted lots of other things, too! She wanted to be a Grade 1 sorcerer, she wanted a serious boyfriend, she wanted an all-expenses paid trip to the Maldives for her 25th birthday. Just because she wanted motherhood and a family — and yeah, maybe even a husband — somewhere down the line didn't mean anything bad.
But it did make this current situation a little harder than it should've been for her. Nothing at all happened to her, but her heart broke for this Utahime. If she was anything like her, she had this secret desire too, and to have it taken from her must've been hard.
And if she were being honest? Her heart broke a little bit for herself too, the part of herself that couldn't be fully convinced that this wasn't an alternate reality but her future, an inevitability, a glimpse into what would become of one of her most guarded, selfish desires. That they wouldn't pan out, that she wouldn't get something she really wanted…it did hurt.
When she was done cleaning, she looked at the pile of texts and decided she felt too balloon-headed from all the crying for any more research tonight. So she marked all of their places and pushed everything to the side so it wasn't taking up the entire living room, then looked through Shoko's kitchen to see what she had. When Shoko came home close to midnight with half-apologies and a bag of convenience store instant ramen, she had dinner waiting for her instead. Although it was late, Utahime stayed awake to eat with her.
It might've been a shitty thing to do, but katsu curry was delicious and Shoko had all the ingredients, so there was no reason for her to not make it.
But as crazy of a rollercoaster as the day had been, Utahime felt apprehensive as she laid down to sleep. She shouldn't have, because when she woke up, she was only sleepily disoriented for a few seconds before she recognized that no, she hadn't gone back to where (when) she should've been.
The dream theory was officially dead now. She'd been harboring a tiny hope that this would all just magically fix itself without any needed efforts from her. But of course that couldn't be the case. Magic wasn't real, and Jujutsu sorcerers should know better than to believe in miracles.
So there she was, day after day in Shoko's apartment, ignoring her phone except for when Shoko gave her updates on when she'd be home. She helped Utahime set a new ringtone specifically for her calls and messages, so she knew to only go for her phone when she heard it. But every time she picked up her phone to read the text or return the call, she couldn't help but to look at all the other ones that were left. Not just from Gojo, but a whole bunch of names she didn't know and a few she did.
Mei Mei texted her a few times, things like acronyms with attached prices. Gakuganji called her twice, still refusing to text like he did where (when) she was from. Her parents and members of her clan were weirdly present, showing an unusual amount of concern for her disappearing act. She didn't even open those messages, not wanting anything to do with that can of worms in this life.
And yeah, Gojo too.
Lots of pictures. Cats, sweets, students, a selfie in front of the Tokyo skyline (from way higher than she thought was possible). A few texts inquiring about her health, letting her know that Yaga or some other person was calling him away. Pleas for her to answer, call him back, asking why she wasn't going home.
Utahime didn't know what to do with those, so she left them alone and focused on herself.
And now that she had a few days to settle in, she was able to come to terms with her life…or the life this Utahime lived.
She still ignored the scar on her face as much as possible. Sometimes there was an itch under the skin or it pulled uncomfortably, but Utahime found it was very easy to pretend it wasn't there. She washed her face and brushed her teeth without looking in the mirror, and she didn't bother with makeup at all. She dressed in whatever of Shoko's was comfortable, then spent all of her time in the main living areas.
Another thing she had to get used to was her body itself. While showering, she noticed she had a few more scars littering her body. Nothing serious or previously life-threatening, but there nonetheless. And like she told Shoko, she felt a little heavy. Whether that was due to the…issue, as she was eager to call it, or because she put on a significant amount of weight since her teenage years was yet to be determined.
Once on the third day, she took a look at herself in the floor length mirror in Shoko's bedroom. She found that when she stood a certain way, she didn't have to worry about seeing her face at all. And she looked at her body, twisting it this way and that with a critical eye. Later that night when Shoko got home, Utahime was eating tofu and miso, a different meal than the dinner she made for Shoko. When Shoko asked why and Utahime answered, it took several minutes to get the younger girl/older woman to stop laughing.
"Times are different, Uta," Shoko finally said when she could catch her breath. "You're kinda the ideal now, trust me."
Utahime frowned at that, but Shoko was serious. She was happy about the extra cup size or two in her chest, but shocked that apparently having fat in your hips and thighs and butt was in, now. All the better for it, she supposed. She'd had to work hard to stay skinny in her time. She probably didn't need to do too much now that she was older, with less energy and a slower metabolism. So she allowed herself the extra heaping of rice, the extra drizzle of soy sauce, the fried version of foods, the udon instead of the shirataki.
It wasn't like she was staying in this body anyway. She'd take care of it as well as she could, but the other Utahime could deal with the fallout of a few days' worth of reckless eating.
But most of her time was spent deep in research. The one good thing about Jujutsu was how widely it spanned, how many uses and applications could come from cursed energy. The problem was that meant that there was so much content to slog through, and it was making her head swim.
It was closing in on a week of her being here, and she was no closer to figuring out how she got here (and therefore, how to get back). Scrolls and tomes and even a few tapestries were brought to and from the school as they ruled out possibility after possibility.
Shoko was running back and forth from the school, sometimes only spending 3-4 hours at a time in the apartment. It dawned on Utahime that if she hadn't been here, then perhaps Shoko would've opted to stay at the school some nights for convenience's sake. But when she tried to bring it up, Shoko just waved her off.
"I said I'd help you, and I will. I'm not doing anything I don't want to be doing."
And of course, the elephant in the room: Shoko's presence deterred Gojo.
But as time went on, Utahime could almost put even Gojo on the backburner. So singularly focused as she was on research, she could almost forget that he existed, that in this reality (time?) she was married to him. Of course, that was the problem.
She could always ignore Gojo, but he never seemed to be too great at ignoring her.
Shoko had gone to the school shortly after breakfast one day for another emergency. She definitely wouldn't have time to come home for lunch, but she promised to let her know about dinner. Having got a small taste of Shoko's normal chaos, Utahime was already prepared for that. So she sent Shoko on her way with a packed bento (which earned her a rather condescending pat on the head) then focused on her research.
Unfortunately but maybe not so surprising, her research led her to the Gojo.
Due to the nature of the Six Eyes and Limitless techniques within their bloodline, for centuries the Gojo have dedicated themselves to the subjects of philosophy, spirituality, physics, and the places where those things intersect. It opened up a breadth of knowledge that took her breath away. The secret nerd inside Utahime wanted nothing more than to lose herself in these topics, but she forced herself to stay focused for the moment.
The book she currently held was a reconstruction and re-translation of a collection of writings by Ryota Gojo, a branch family member from the late Muromachi era. The language was a bit hard to understand even with the translation into more modern Japanese, but the insight was helpful.
It was part diary entries, part philosophical mumblings. In it, he described his experience with having a sister, the only one born in their immediate family with the Limitless technique. Since she obviously did not possess Six Eyes, she only had partial grasp on the technique like anyone else in the clan who inherited it without that secondary technique. But even though she only had partial control over the neutral application, Infinity, she was able to keep it up near constantly without tiring herself like others would have. It led to many in the clan asking why, running tests on the girl, tracing any outside influence that could have contributed to it.
Ryota Gojo wrote about his own research and findings, less into why his sister had so much control, and more into the nature of Limitless that made it so hard to control in the first place.
We hosted a traveling hoshi this week. He traveled from the newly formed town in Musashi to the south. Many were traveling to Kyushu Island these days, in search of trade and the exchange of knowledge with the foreigners who'd found their way to southern shores…the hoshi and I had lunch many times as he waited on the repairs to his wagon. Sharing a pot of tea with a stranger was always satisfying, but even moreso with this man! So dedicated he was to the pursuit of knowledge. Though he was not of a kind as a clan such as ours, he held so many beliefs, so many conjectures, so many hypotheses that aligned exactly with what we know to be true. I will include the notes I've taken during our many impromptu sessions here. I believe they may do wonders for the progression of research into Mukagen, as well as the curious case of imoto-san.
And of course, the notes were little more than gibberish to her, but she found what she could understand interesting enough.
And so on that day, I posed a question to the hoshi. If illusion is the nature of things and all things are connected, could it not mean that we, should we reach reincarnate, should we reach enlightenment, experienced many seemingly separate experiences at once? Could we not say that we've experienced the end of life and the beginning of life while we are in the middle if we experienced them in the past? To that, the hoshi simply asked me for my own judgment. Time, as he believes it, exists in a different way for each person. One year is different for an elder than it is for a child. To that I say, if time has no beginning and no end, then might we not experience time out of order? Might the cause not come after the effect if we experienced them in different lifetimes?
Truly, it made little sense. Utahime was raised in the traditions of the shrines, and her Jujutsu education was based in Buddhism, but she considered herself more of a casual believer and practitioner of either. It wasn't that she didn't believe in any of it. It was just that none of it really had practical application in her day-to-day of fighting curses and navigating the modern world for her to really care.
I so wish I could tell him of the truth of Jujutsu! I would ask him his thoughts on imoto-san and Mugen. Long have we held the belief that Mukagen is a doorway to the Dharmadhatu, where all things should, theoretically, exist at once. Does that not also mean the past and the future? If the past is one realm and the future another, at some point, do they not meet? And so to the hoshi I answered: time does not exist out of order. If the past and the future exist at once, if time moves quickly and slowly at once, if each person who experiences time is connected, then there is only the present moment. The past is now and the future is now, as each realm exists now.
It made my heart soar when he smiled, sipping from his cup with a satisfied hum as if I were his student who just made a significant breakthrough.
And it really was all so fascinating, truly. The only problem was that this section of Ryota Gojo's writing was labeled Transversing Different Realms of Existence. But all he talked about was time.
"So which is it?" she asked aloud to herself. "Time or different realities?"
"Your problem is thinking they're two different things."
Utahime startled so hard, she dropped her book. A hand clapped over her mouth right as she began to scream when she saw who it belonged to, and just how close he'd gotten to her without her noticing.
"Love when you scream," Gojo said with a laugh, "but not so much like this."
She glared at him and impulsively decided to bite down on his hand. But before her teeth could make contact, his Infinity wrapped around his hand, giving her the worst sensation of biting into never ending soft toffee. He laughed at her furious expression, pulling his hand away to reveal her frown.
"How did you even get in here?" Utahime asked, more than a little bit put out that she couldn't bite him.
"Well, hello to you too. I missed you too. I've been wondering what you've been up to too."
Gojo perched himself on the arm of the sofa. Utahime refused to look at him, but her upbringing made it hard for her to be as flippant or passive as she wanted to be. "Hello, Gojo," she said through gritted teeth.
"Satoru."
"Right," she nodded, kicking herself for slipping up like that twice now.
"What are you doing here?"
"You kidding? I've been gone for three weeks and the day I get back, you let Shoko kidnap you for five days!"
Utahime winced. It would be weird, she supposed. She just hoped she would've found a way home by now, before she had to deal with the mindfuck that was acknowledging she was married to Gojo in this reality.
"Isn't Shoko's apartment warded?" she asked, sidestepping his words. "You shouldn't have been able to warp in."
He shrugged, leaning back against the wall. "It's my family's building. It wasn't hard for me to get a key."
Utahime's face scrunched up. "That's so unethical! How could you do something so…so wrong?!"
"Like I care. I never claimed to be a good person," he said. He was laughing, but the expression on his face seemed almost puzzled. "What's wrong is hiding out here and ignoring all my calls. What's wrong is letting Shoko keep you from me. What's wrong is getting Yaga to keep me busy so that I couldn't come after you."
Utahime bit her lip but said nothing in the face of his accusations. Gojo stared at her, the prickle of his cursed eyes sweeping over her.
"Come on, I'm not so scary, am I?"
He slid down the sofa until he was seated next to her. There was still a good enough bit of space between them to keep her from panicking, but she'd still never willingly been so close to him as she was both times he'd seen her in this life.
"You still mad at me?" he asked. "I'm not that bad, you know."
"Mad at you? For what?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
He shrugged. "Letting you take the blame for what happened on your last mission even though it was my fault."
Utahime spluttered. She had no recollection of what he was talking about (obviously) but even as grown and married as they were, he was still pulling this kind of crap with her?!
"Seriously?!" she hissed.
"No? Then is it because I called you weak when you needed help exorcising that Grade 1 curse? Or is it because—"
"I'm not mad at you, Gojo," she seethed, trying to tamp down on her anger through gritted teeth.
"Satoru," he chided. "Get it right, Hime, jeez. Someone might think something if you don't."
She opened her mouth, but her words caught in her throat. Not because of the curse this time.
Every once in a while, she'd take them out. The hospital papers. And she'd read over the details again and again. She'd always put them away before Shoko came home, but they were out now, on the coffee table right in front of her. Without his blindfold on, it was impossible to miss Gojo's eyes falling on them, recognizing them for what they were.
Whatever caustic words she had died in her throat. This was something else she'd come to terms with in the past few days. Shoko was Shoko, but even she was different. A little more somber, responsible, mature. She had important duties and a life and a whole bunch of her own reasons for doing the things she did the way she did them. She was Utahime's friend, she'd always be Utahime's friend, but it was sometimes hard to reconcile this Shoko with the young, bright-eyed, energetic yet sarcastic girl she knew in her own life.
And if that was the case for Shoko, couldn't that also be the case for Gojo?
Sure, he was still obnoxious. Loud and irreverent and condescending and rude as always, from the one sole interaction she'd had with him. But her mind kept going back to the soft way he spoke to her, especially now that she knew more.
He'd been away when it happened.
A few days ago, he wouldn't stop calling. Seventeen missed calls in a row, to the point that she turned her phone off for the night. When she made a sarcastic remake about him acting like he cared when he couldn't be bothered to come home for her when she probably needed him, Shoko shut that down immediately.
"You're the one who told him to stay where he was," she said in a tone that brooked no argument. "He would've dropped everything to come to you. He always drops everything to come to you."
Utahime had felt cowed, mumbling a stuttered apology even as her mind reeled with the new information.
She liked to think she had sense. That she was the type of person to look beyond her own prejudices and preconceived notions when the situation called for it. And now, as she watched Gojo lazily scan the medical details of her — other her, of course — miscarriage, it dawned on her that he lost his baby, too. And if she could feel terrible about it without it even technically happening to her, without her feeling any real attachment to the outcome, then what might he be feeling in this moment?
Are we happy? she'd asked. He loves me?
And he said, now what kind of crazy would make you ask a thing like that?
As if the thought that he didn't was absurd.
Whatever her Gojo was like in her life, that was the result of him being an annoying, overpowered boy, born to look down on them all. And so he did. This Gojo was a grown man in his thirties. Different, like Shoko. Still all the things he always was, but more now. A teacher, with students who obviously cared for him and felt close to him. Juniors of his own who took up for him when he wasn't around. And yes, a husband too, and a good one if everyone around her was to be believed.
She couldn't treat this Gojo like he was her Gojo. He was different. Even if he was raised the same as her Gojo was, in this life (time?) he'd obviously grown out of it. He all but clung to others, stood next to them instead of above, equated himself with those that were technically beneath him (everyone). He married her, for goodness' sake.
So yes, he was different. No one that she'd trust so easily, but no one to treat as terribly as his 16-year-old counterpart in her time treated her. Almost like a new person entirely. Or if that were impossible, an acquaintance who was just familiar enough to not be a stranger.
So she scooted closer to him, hesitating for only a moment before putting her hand on his back.
An acquaintance, she reminded herself. This is the kind of thing people do for their acquaintances, no?
"I'm sorry," she said, but he interrupted her.
"This isn't the kind of thing you apologize for. Not you. Not ever."
His words were quiet and soft, but the effect was harsh anyway.
Utahime backtracked. "I just mean to say that it must be hard on you, too."
He looked over at her, tearing his gaze away from the report. "Yeah?"
She nodded.
He sighed, reaching over to take the book out of her lap. He threw it on the floor, where it landed with annoyingly perfect precision on top of a stack of other books. "Come here."
Utahime stiffened. She was being understanding and empathetic, yes, but surely that had limits?!
Gojo chuckled when he saw her tense. "Come on. I'm not gonna bite you. Just wanna feel."
"Feel?" she choked.
He rolled his eyes and reached for her, pulling her into his body. Before Utahime could properly freak out, he stretched out on the couch and laid back, laying her down with him.
He held her. He just held her.
Gojo let out a deep breath. His head fell naturally to her chest as he wrapped himself around her. Utahime tried to calm herself down. It would be embarrassing if he attributed her quickened pulse to his proximity (though she did feel a type of way seeing his snowy white hair all over her tits).
She'd never have guessed Gojo could be so warm.
A tiny prickle of energy pulsed around her, flickering against her skin. It felt familiar, but wrong in its own way. "Reverse cursed technique?" she asked, struggling to place it when it felt so weird.
Gojo hummed in assent. "Still can't do it like Shoko can. Hers is too good. Mine's only really good for myself." But his fingers splayed over her back and her stomach. She forced herself not to jump as they found their way under her borrowed sweater and directly onto her skin. The energy penetrated a little deeper. "But I can map things out a little better, at least."
Ah, feel her.
The minutes ticked by, and somehow Utahime grew lax, absently rubbing circles in Gojo's back. She could almost forget it was Gojo next to her, halfway on top of her really. She'd never had a boyfriend before, but she had slept next to her friends. This was different. Everything was different with a man, she supposed with a slight blush.
Just like when he hugged her the day he got back, she could feel the lines of his body. He was hard (killing herself not to connect that thought to a dirty joke with Gojo as the subject), his body a map of sharp angles and corded muscle. His uniform didn't do him any justice. Dressed as he was now, in a regular cotton T-shirt and worn denim jeans, he was like a whole different person.
She still couldn't believe he was able to get so big.
Her Gojo was just some scrawny kid, but even he had lean muscle like most active sorcerers. She'd seen him shirtless once. She and Mei had gone to find Shoko and found her sitting on the bleachers in the gym. It was the middle of summer and the school was swelteringly hot, so he was shirtless, playing basketball with Geto and a few second and third years.
Utahime had barely spared him a glance then, choosing instead to gossip with Shoko and Mei about manga and celebrities. Every once in a while one of them would make a remark on one of the players and she'd get another eyeful of Gojo, but she genuinely thought nothing of it. He was a kid.
The Gojo laying next to her was not.
And yeah, technically he was still younger than her in this life, as Shoko confirmed. Same birthday and everything. But he felt so much older, so much more masculine, really truly like a man, and it was something weird to wrap her head around.
And again, she had a bad habit of daydreaming, getting lost in her own mind. She had no idea how long he'd been kissing her when she finally noticed.
"G—Satoru?!"
He snorted, the soft tickle of his breath against the pulse on her neck making it flutter. "Nice save."
She tried to scramble out of his hold, but his arms locked around her back tightly, slowly, preventing her from so much as squirming. Utahime squeaked as he started kissing her again. This was nothing like the soft pecks he did back in Shoko's office. These were hot, openmouthed presses of his mouth against certain spots on her neck that she'd rather Gojo went nowhere near. She shivered when she felt the tip of his tongue against the hollow of her throat.
So sensitive here. I'll keep that in mind.
Utahime shook her head against the memory. She'd never had a boyfriend yet, but she wasn't innocent. Not like she should be, at least. So she knew what might come next if she let Gojo continue.
"H-hey," she said, furious to find herself a bit breathless. "We shouldn't."
"And why not?" he asked, kissing his way across her collarbone to the other side of her neck. She fought back a…she didn't really want to think about what reaction she would've made, actually…while she wracked her brain for a good enough excuse.
"This is Shoko's place," she tried.
"So?"
"So we shou—ah!"
Utahime clapped a hand over her mouth when he bit down gently but firmly, causing her body (her stupid fucking mouth) to betray her.
She grew tense as he kissed his way up her jaw. "So we should stop," she said. "It's disrespectful."
"Nothing we haven't done before."
"Excuse me?"
Gojo took advantage of her shock to kiss her properly, on the mouth this time.
Not innocent, but this was her first kiss with a boy.
A man, she kept reminding herself.
Everything was different with a man.
She tensed up as he pushed and pulled at her lips, the gloss he always wore making his soft.
"Hm," he said as he pulled back, watching her with a searching smile. "That's new. You never did that before."
"W-what?" she asked, a little dazed.
"Not react." His hands found their way back under her sweater. The way he dragged them along her heated skin was almost enough to make her shiver. "You always reacted to me when I kissed you before."
Before Utahime could figure out what to say, the front door banged open.
"I knew it," Shoko said, slightly breathless as if she ran here. "Get off of her."
"No," Gojo said easily, eyes never leaving Utahime's flushed face.
"How'd you even…" Shoko shook her head. "Give me the key you used and get out."
"I can just make another, you know."
"You better not." She kicked the door closed and dropped her medical bag on the floor. "That's a serious invasion of privacy, and a really shitty thing to do."
Gojo shrugged, dipping his head to nose at Utahime's neck again. Ignoring her squeak of indignation, he simply said, "I'm not a good person, so I really don't give a fuck. It's not like I'm sneaking in here to put cameras in your bathroom and take a peek in your underwear drawer."
"You ass."
Utahime blinked rapidly when Shoko, stronger than she looked, marched forward and yanked Gojo by the back of his shirt, physically hauling him off of her, giving her the space to scramble backward. She curled her arms around her legs into a ball and watched as Shoko dropped Gojo on his ass, breathing a tiny bit easier when she put herself in between them.
Gojo frowned up at Shoko. "I might start to get pissed at you for keeping my wife from me, you know."
"Get pissed then, who gives a shit? Just do it away from here."
He rolled his eyes, looking around Shoko's legs to catch Utahime's eyes. "I actually came to talk to you, you know."
She bit her lip. "I still don't really feel like talking."
Instead of laughing or making some lewd comment, Gojo softened. "You're gonna have to eventually if we wanna get through this, you know. I can help."
She looked away from him. Different, older, mature though he was, Gojo was still Gojo. If she didn't have to involve him in her situation, she wouldn't. Especially now that she knew he'd try to put his hands on her whenever he came around. And the last thing she wanted to do was grieve a loss she had no business grieving with him when she still wasn't fully sure how she felt about it herself.
He sighed dramatically. "Fine, have your silence and your secrets and your stupid Shoko sleepover." He heaved himself to his feet.
Shoko stuck her tongue out at him. He flipped her off. She all but shoved him toward the door.
"You'll at least bring her to Kyoto tomorrow, won't you?" he said over his shoulder to Shoko.
Utahime perked up. Kyoto? What did she need to go to Kyoto for?
He looked back at her, answering her silent questions easily. "Clan event. I am, unfortunately, their head until I die. And you are my wife." Shoko was pushing him through the doorway, but he wasn't making it easy for her, leaning his full weight against the door she was trying to close. "So we have to be there to sanction and preside over the wedding of some third cousin neither of us gives a shit about. You agreed to give the wife-to-be a blessing."
Shoko shoved at him harder. "Yeah, yeah, we'll be there. Now go and don't come back!"
She finally managed to shut the door behind her.
"Answer your phone!" he yelled from the other side of the door. "Text me back!"
Shoko rummaged around the front closet for a bit until she found some strange rubber-tipped metal stick. She hooked it under the doorknob and wedged it firmly against the floor, ensuring that no one could open the door from the outside. Not even Satoru Gojo.
"Sorry, Uta," Shoko said, raking a hand through her hair. "I was in surgery, and when I got out, Yaga was asking me where he went. I just knew he would try to come for you so I rushed here as fast as I could—"
"It's fine," Utahime interjected.
"He didn't do anything to you, did he?"
She looked down, sure her face must be on fire. It's not like Shoko hadn't already walked in and seen him on top of her.
"That bastard."
"Not really," Utahime said softly. "I'm his wife, remember?"
And there was something about the way her voice cracked that had Shoko rushing to her side. "Come on, Uta. Buck up. We're going to figure this out."
She shook her head. Whether they did or didn't no longer mattered. She'd been here for too long, and this Utahime had responsibilities that apparently couldn't be put off any longer. And something told her that now that Gojo got to her, even for this brief amount of time, nothing would stop him from finding a way back to her. Just like Shoko implied earlier, nothing could keep Gojo from his wife.
Gone were the few short days where Utahime was allowed to hide away in Shoko's apartment.
"It's too late, Shoko," she whispered, dropping her head to her knees. "We're out of time."
Taking the train was familiar, at least.
Shoko went by Utahime's house to grab her stuff the night before. Thankfully, Utahime was as much of a prepper in this life as she was in her own. Everything she needed for the day was already packed, some of it sent on ahead of her. According to the staff, Gojo had already left for Kyoto, claiming some business that required his earlier presence.
"Shigeko-san said to tell you they'd meet you there," Shoko said as they walked through the station. "They were going to finish cleaning up the house then drive over, sleep there for the night. Your staff should already be there when we arrive."
"Shigeko-san?"
"The older one, Shigeko Utagawa. She's the closest to you and acts as your personal advisor. Calls herself your lady-in-waiting, but honestly, she runs your house like she's the lady, not you. Which you're fine with, and we laugh about it sometimes…"
Utahime nodded, only half-paying attention as they boarded the train. If you asked her, she didn't need a staff. She didn't know what possessed her other self to sign up for all of this pomp and circumstance. Utahime had never been one to want unnecessary luxury. Sure, she liked to dress up in a pretty dress here and there and tended to splurge on expensive skincare, but her life had been largely marked by necessity and service to others.
It could only be Gojo's influence, she decided.
Speaking of which…
She hadn't decided what to do about him. When tensions had finally calmed last night, Shoko took her by the hand and sat her on the ground in front of the couch.
"Just a suggestion," she said, and Utahime immediately knew where she was going with it.
"Mm-mm, nope."
"Uta…"
"No!"
"We're running into a wall here. All the texts we could find about any of this stuff won't hold a candle to someone who lives his life navigating the world of space/time."
Which, of course, Utahime knew. But the thought of telling Gojo, asking him for help?
She shook her head. "I can't."
"No," Shoko said frowning at her. "You won't."
"Please, Shoko!" Utahime threw her arms around her best friend's shoulders. "Just a little bit longer. Let me think on things a little bit longer."
Shoko had sighed, returning Utahime's embrace. "You know I'd do anything for you, Uta girl," she said softly, rubbing comforting circles on her back. "I'd put myself between you and anybody, anytime. I just want us to be realistic."
"Realistic?"
"Yeah. We're running into a wall. I have no doubt we'll figure this out. All curses can be exorcised, all Binding Vows have limits. But we might get there faster with his help."
Utahime had pouted when she heard that. She knew it to be true, of course. Hadn't she thought the very same thing when she first woke up here, and several times since?
"One day," she asked Shoko. "Just give me one more day to think about it, please."
And Shoko, best friend that she was, readily agreed.
Which was why she was coming to Kyoto with Utahime. It was a tough sell to Yaga, letting her go cross-country at the height of curse season on a whim. But luckily for them, Yaga's soft spot for his former students won over common sense. Shoko was allowed the one day in Kyoto, as long as she promised to be back at work the following morning. Utahime was grateful, even if she didn't really know how it would all work since Shoko wasn't invited to the wedding as far as she knew. But Shoko reassured her.
"I kind of have a standing invitation to most clan events," she said with a soft roll of her eyes. "Everyone wants to suck up to the RCT user. And of course, close friend to the Six Eyes and his wife doesn't hurt either. No one'll complain."
And so the plan was set. Shoko and Utahime woke up bright and early that morning, dressed, and walked to the nearest train station. They would get on the train and go to Kyoto, where they'd call a driver from the Gojo Estate to drive them over. Shoko would show Utahime the ins and outs of that world, the clan she'd married into, the responsibilities she'd be expected to fulfill, and would in general spend the day at Utahime's side. And then the day after that, they'd have a serious conversation on whether or not to tell Gojo.
Of course, nothing could run that smoothly.
Because when they arrived in Kyoto and stepped off the train, there was already someone waiting for them. A Manager, in the nondescript black suit they all wore with the distinctive Jujutsu buttons on the jacket. She was a slight thing, a bit younger than they were but an adult nonetheless, with short blonde hair and dangling star earrings. When she saw them on the platform, she walked toward them at a brisk pace.
"Ieiri-san, Iori-san, thank goodness I found you both!"
Shoko nodded at her. "Nitta, what's up?"
The woman cut right to the chase. "There's a situation at Kyoto campus. A few of our sorcerers went on a mission and took in a curse that's attempting to physically change them. We've got Arata and the twins holding them stable right now, but it got in through the blood so there's only so much they can do. We called Principal Yaga to ask for an emergency transfer to get you over here as soon as possible, Ieiri-san, and he told us you both were already on your way for the Gojo wedding! Really good fortune on our part."
Shoko nodded. "How long has it been?"
"They came back less than an hour ago. If we go now…"
Shoko nodded again, then looked back at Utahime. "I'm so sorry."
She only shook her head. "Don't be. Go save the world." It was more important than holding her hand through a situation that, at the very least, wouldn't kill her.
"I'll text you when I can, try to come as soon as possible. When you get there, just ask for Shigeko." She leaned forward to whisper. "Be yourself but confident, like you've done it a million times before. Don't worry too much. She's very efficient. She'll get you through the morning easily and help you out if you stumble." Shoko pulled away, turning toward Nitta. "Hopefully it's a simple case and I'll be back before long."
The Manager readily nodded. "And please don't worry, Iori-san! I've arranged for your transfer service to the Gojo Estate as well. I notified him when I saw you on the platform, so he should be coming through here any minute now."
Utahime nodded. She took Shoko's personal bag and handed her the medical one, waving as they left her behind. Not even five minutes later, a smartly dressed older man in a dark blue suit approached her. He was obviously from the Gojo clan, judging by the way he bowed to her and took her bags (all three of them!) without a word.
The slight hum of Infinity wrapped itself around her as they silently walked to the black town car parked in front of the station. He opened the car door and let her in, pulling his Infinity back as he did with slightly shaking hands. She wondered if he'd overexerted himself with it, knowing that Gojo without the Six Eyes can use neutral Limitless imperfectly.
But he never complained. He simply bowed, shut her door, stashed the bags carefully in the trunk, then drove away.
Utahime was still a bit tired, so she dozed off a bit as the car wound its way through the streets toward the outskirts of Kyoto. It was when she felt the pulling of a good few distinctive barriers in rapid succession that Utahime woke up. She looked out the window with wide eyes.
Of course she knew the Big Three were important. Of course she knew they were old and probably wealthy. But the Gojo she'd come to know (in this life and her own) acted nothing like the heir and inevitable head of something like this.
If her own house was ridiculous, the Gojo Estate was a veritable compound of many such ridiculous buildings.
It was like a movie set. A castle complex hidden among the bamboo, servants and family members dressed in similarly colored kimono with tabi socks and wooden sandals. Everyone wore the blues and purples, the adornments on everything from the kimono to the buildings were decorated with motifs of lotus flowers and fig trees. It was splendor on a level you'd see in ancient paintings, read about in history books.
It was so wasteful. Who needed anything like this in modern times?
The car rolled over a bridge and around a circular driveway in front of the largest building by far. It stopped dead center. Utahime knew enough to wait for the driver to open her door, and when he did, she was greeted by two long lines of people. More staff, there to welcome her. They all bowed to her, calling out greetings. Gojo-sama, they all called her.
She felt uniquely uncomfortable.
She looked over at the driver, who was directing two others to retrieve her bags from the trunk. From the moment she stepped out of the car, he'd had her wrapped in his Infinity once more, clasping his hands together in front of him to lessen the shakes.
Wanting to relieve him of what she suspected was his duty (and wanting to get out of here as quickly as possible herself) she steeled herself and spoke like Shoko told her to. "Is Shigeko already here?" she asked.
"Yes, my lady," the older man replied. "I believe she has everything prepared for your arrival. Would you like to be taken to her?"
"Yes, please."
"Very well." He gestured for her to walk in ahead of him and so she did, nodding and smiling at everyone she passed. It only felt right, even when she got some scowls in return.
Clans were clans, she supposed.
Again, the Iori were barely a clan, but they sure did operate like one. A head, a council of elders, a main family, a branch family, a few bloodline techniques. Utahime was part of the branch family, on the outskirts, an unimportant part of an unimportant whole. But she was raised to serve clans, hers and others. She'd always remember the lessons: how low to bow to who, how to address who, who to know, who not to know, what kind of treatment to expect. That last one in particular. She was raised to remember her place, do her job well, not expect any cordiality or friendliness from those she served.
It wasn't impossible that these people were raised very similarly, if not more strictly due to being in the belly of the beast, so to speak, and at a time when pseudo-gods walked the earth.
They all knew who she was, but more importantly, they all knew where she came from. They all knew she was no better than them. Speaking from experience, it was maddening to have to bow and scrape and serve others in the first place. It probably felt even worse to have to do so for someone like her. She could guess with greater clarity why the one sent to retrieve her was ordered to wrap her in Infinity when she was around others.
So she wasn't surprised to be met with a lot of indifference and even some scowls. But the few shy smiles she got back in return made it all worth it.
Utahime hadn't been paying attention at all. She probably should have tried, mapping escape routes and such. But somewhere deep in the complex, she felt him. Unlike he usually did when they were together, here he didn't hold back at all. The dread of his cursed energy filled every room, cowed every person. And as she moved through those ancient halls, it pulsed in time with her movements, and she just knew he knew she was here.
Gojo was many things. But if there was one thing she could trust, it was that she never had to worry about being safe around him. He was obnoxious and mocking and many things she hated, but she never had reason to feel threatened or in danger when he was around. She knew if there was ever trouble, he'd find her immediately and bring her to safety, regardless of whether she asked him to or not.
He said he wasn't a good person, and she definitely agreed, but that didn't automatically make him a bad one either.
Which was why it was so hard to think about what to do.
She couldn't tell him herself, but she knew that with one look from her, Shoko would tell him for her. But she couldn't do it. Well obviously she could, but it felt…
She couldn't really say how it felt, but it didn't feel like something she wanted to do.
They arrived before long at a door. The guards outside of the door nodded at her and opened it for her. She walked over the threshold and through the barrier and found herself in the heart of the Gojo's ancestral home.
Utahime didn't have time to be nervous or awestruck, or wonder what to do. The moment she walked through the barrier, several people accosted her. She froze for a moment before recognizing the faces as those who'd been crowded around her back at her house the day she woke up here.
She let them drag her away, only looking over her shoulder once to thank the driver. He bowed and briskly left right as she turned a corner.
From there, Utahime lost count of the places she was whisked away to.
She let the girls chatter over her as she was scrubbed head to toe. Nothing she hadn't experienced before, but still embarrassing nonetheless, even moreso as this wasn't a body she felt comfortable in herself, much less felt comfortable enough for other people to see it. It was a bit like that getting ready song in that American Chinese movie Mei liked, where everyone was getting the heroine ready to meet her matchmaker. Utahime was already married, but the amount of people who doused her skin and hair with cleansers and oils and layered fragrances was enough to make her dizzy.
When they finally left her alone in a steaming bath, filled to the brim with rose petals and other things that admittedly smelled heavenly, she gave herself a second to grouse about it. "Am I the bride or is she?" she grumbled under her breath.
"I'll have none of that from you today."
Utahime startled, splashing a bit as her arm fell from the rim of the tub into the water. But she relaxed marginally as she saw her, the senior staff member from her house that Shoko told her to look for, approaching her with a small bag in her hands.
"Shigeko," she said, only a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
The older woman smiled, pulling a stool to sit behind Utahime. "You look well, my lady. I trust you're feeling better?"
Utahime nodded.
"We were worried when you never came home, but then the master said you were staying with Ieiri-san for a bit until you got better." Shigeko opened the bag and took out a comb.
"Yes." Instinctively, Utahime turned around. When the first passes of the comb swept through her hair, she said, "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble."
"You don't have to apologize at all, my lady," Shigeko said, masterfully working the comb through usually wild locks. "We were simply worried for a moment, but you were in good hands."
They fell into companionable silence as Shigeko worked the tangles in her hair, then brushed it out gently. When she was finished, she plaited Utahime's hair into a single braid. The doors to the bathing room — because of course the Gojo couldn't have a normal bathroom, they had to have a room specifically for the enormous tub that only one person would sit in at a time — opened shortly after. A few more of the maids came in, taking Utahime by the arms and massaging her muscles. She felt a bit silly, arms stretched out like a scarecrow, but someone just worked a knot in her shoulder that felt heavenly.
"It's too much for a wedding," she muttered, even as she moved her neck from side to side. "And it's not even my wedding."
"Do you remember Gojo-sama's wedding?" one girl whispered to another.
"So amazing! We prepped the lady for days."
"Oh, I wish I could've been there! I got here two years after."
"It was the grandest event ever! Sorcerers from all over the world came here!"
Shigeko clucked her tongue. "Enough. If you can talk, you're not working hard enough." She turned to Utahime with a slight frown in her brow. "And you should take this a bit more seriously."
"Oh yes," Utahime said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "I'll be most serious about all the pomp and circumstance for someone else's big day."
"All the pomp and circumstance, as you call it, is a gesture of respect." Shigeko bent to pick up her tools. "It tells people you believe this to be an important event, one worth all the extra effort for."
The wedding of some third cousin neither of us gives a shit about, Gojo had said.
Shigeko caught her eye. "Whether or not you actually believe it is irrelevant."
"You're wasting your time, Auntie. That one does what she wants, regardless of what other people might think."
Utahime startled. The girls who were massaging her skin fell away with hushed giggles and whispers as Gojo walked into the room.
It was frustrating. With his cursed energy everywhere, it was hard to pinpoint exactly where he was outside of a general area. She knew he was deep within the compound, but hadn't felt him, the source of all that dreadful, electric energy, moving toward her until he was right at the door.
He padded into the room on bare feet, crossing the stone floor as if he were gliding. It was a different Gojo once again from the one she knew, even different from the one she met at the school and in Shoko's apartment. Not a boy, not her husband, but clan head. Even as he wore nothing more than a pair of silken pants and an open robe, his bare torso on display for all to see, he walked as if he knew he was the most important person in the entire compound.
This was the problem.
Utahime had to come to grips with a lot since she woke up in this reality (time?). Her face, her house, her loss, her thirties. But Gojo was by far the biggest shock. Being married to him wasn't something she'd ever envisioned for herself. And her research had re-affirmed some troubling things to her.
If she was cursed, there was nothing she could do about that. However, if a Binding Vow was involved like Shoko believed, then things became more complicated.
Unlike a curse, which was typically energy directed one way, a Binding Vow was a two-way street. It was a feedback loop, energy that fed into each other like a snake eating its own tail. It wasn't something that could just be done to someone. There was a level of agreement that cemented the binding.
Which meant that if this situation were the result of a Binding Vow, then on some level, Utahime must have wanted it.
It was absurd to think of it this way. Who the fuck would want to go to sleep and wake up married to Gojo of all people? But the fact was that it happened to her. And if a Binding Vow was somehow involved, that meant that she bargained with her soul because on some level, she thought this — a life where she married the boy who tormented her, a life where she became a conservative clan wife, a life exactly like the life she'd been dreading all her life — was something she wanted, even partially.
How was she supposed to face that?
Gojo sauntered up to her, crouching down to her level. Utahime instinctively sat a little lower in the water, which made his grin widen.
"Utahime."
"Satoru."
"You remembered."
She cleared her throat, turning her head away. But he reached out anyway to caress her cheek, and she bit down hard on the other side to keep herself from squirming away from his touch.
"Shoko didn't come with you?" he asked.
"Emergency on Kyoto campus."
He hummed noncommittally. "Don't worry. I haven't come to bother you."
She snorted softly. "That's a first."
He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I'm serious! Just thought you might need this."
He held up a book, leatherbound and full with colored tags sticking out of it.
"Your grimoire," he said before she could figure out a way to ask what it was.
And the curse chose that moment to take hold of her. "Not a grimoire," she replied automatically.
He waved her words away with the hand holding the journal. "Spells and sigils and spirits are all over this thing. Seems like witchcraft to me."
She sighed. "We practice Jujutsu sorcery, not witchcraft."
"Tomato, carrot."
"Those are two completely different things."
"Both are red, both are veggies."
"Carrots are orange. Tomatoes are fruit!"
"Debatable."
Utahime shook her head, not feeling up to arguing with him as he laughed at her. Not with all the thoughts running in her head. She looked around, and her eyes landed on one girl, familiar enough for her to take a risk.
"Akane?" she called.
And thankfully the girl she meant to call, the one who'd gone to get Shoko that fateful morning, was the one whose head popped up.
"Can you take my…this, take this for me please?"
"Yes, of course!"
Gojo easily handed off the journal, free hand now dropping to draw circles in the surface of the water. He refused to let go of her cheek. Cursed energy crackled between them, tickling her skin, seeping into her pores.
"I need to finish getting ready," she said, "and so do you."
"I want to talk to you."
"Now's not a good time."
"Later, then."
"I'm catching the last train back to Tokyo with Shoko."
"I can help, Hime. What are you so scared of?"
The question she'd been asking herself lately.
What was she so scared of when it came to Gojo?
And Utahime knew, she just knew, that she couldn't avoid him forever. It wasn't fair to him, who both needed and wanted to be there for his wife during a troubling time. It wasn't fair to Shoko, who was the one standing in between him and what he wanted on her behalf.
And it wasn't fair to Utahime. Other Utahime, who must be missing and wanting and needing her life back, too.
"One more," she whispered.
Gojo cocked his head, his thumb stroking down the side of her steam-dampened face.
"One more day," she said. "Just…let me get through today, and we can talk tomorrow."
He perked up. "Yeah?"
She nodded. "Yeah. You, me, and Shoko."
"Shoko? We don't need Shoko."
"Trust me we do."
"We don't."
"We do."
"We don't."
"We do," she insisted, pulling back from his hand, "now go. You're making everyone nervous."
"Including you, I hope."
Utahime bristled. "Goodbye, Gojo."
"Satoru."
Damn it!
"Satoru," she corrected herself, with as much grace as possible.
Gojo laughed, snuck a kiss to her forehead before she could back away, then left, the sounds of his mirth echoing down the halls.
Utahime closed her eyes, counted to ten, then stood. "Can someone please get me a towel?"
It was barely lunch time. Shoko sent her a quick text. The situation at Kyoto was bad but not dire, so she was hoping to wrap up sooner than later. When she called, Utahime asked for some privacy.
"How are things?"
"Fine, if you think prepping and dressing me like the bird for the main course at dinner is fine."
"You're not a bird. More like a rabbit, silly."
"0/10 joke."
"And Gojo?"
"Saw him once. He walked in on me bathing."
"He did that on purpose you know."
"I know…I told him we could talk. The three of us."
Utahime pretended she couldn't hear the sigh of relief that left Shoko when she asked, "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Tomorrow. Preferably when we're all back in Tokyo."
"It might not be so bad. He'll help, you know he will."
"…I know."
"Don't worry about it for now. We'll talk when I get there. You need to focus on how you're going to get out of blessing that poor bride."
"I don't think I have to."
The journal Gojo gave her was her own personal research journal. Endless notes and experiments on curse theory, sealing practices, Buddhist hand signs, and international applications. She could see why Gojo called it her grimoire. Every major project she'd done in the past four or so years was in that journal. Work she'd done for the school, something for a coma patient, the wards on her own house. It was all in there, an ambitious and complex layering of Jujutsu techniques that had come from her own mind. Including, thankfully, the blessing she'd been planning on performing for the new bride.
She could've gotten lost in it for days, but unfortunately, they were on a time crunch.
"The seals and methods were already written out, the required materials sent to the bride's family weeks ago. It's complex and layered, but I think I can do it."
"Think? You have to know, or you might end up cursing her instead."
Utahime's eyes flicked over the page once more. "I can do it," she insisted. "I can."
"If you say so." An obnoxious blaring started going off in the background. "Gotta go, angel face. Someone's coding. See you soon!"
The line went dead.
Utahime studied her work while her hair and makeup were being done, going over the steps and incantations carefully in her mind. She looked through past references in her own journal when something didn't make sense to her, but really, it was all very intuitive.
By the time Utahime was done and wrapped in the layers of her kimono, she didn't feel apprehensive at all. Shigeko and her maids led her to the bride's chambers in a completely different building than the one she'd gotten ready in, holding onto her and the hem of her kimono. If it weren't for the fact that it was too long and heavy to drag over the uneven stone walkways without snagging (and the fact that she didn't know where she was going), Utahime would've felt embarrassed at the pseudo-procession. Many more people were milling about now than when she arrived, letting her know that the ceremony would soon start.
When she got to the bride's room, she walked up the steps by herself, sliding open the doors on her own when a voice called for her to enter.
It was easier than she thought. Training as a shrine maiden definitely helped, and it was nothing to look at this as just another job. Pouring water, sipping sake, lighting incense, repeating mantras. And when it came time, she slowly but effortlessly carved the seal into the large pendant the bride's family had procured at her request. She would wear it throughout the ceremony, then hang it just inside the threshold of their room after that.
Easy peasy.
Utahime was mentally patting herself on the back as the bride's family thanked her, effusive with their bowing and their praises. As one by one they all trickled out, Utahime gathered her things. The bells would be ringing soon, and Utahime still had to find Shoko.
"Um, excuse me? Lady G-Gojo?"
Utahime took a second to turn around, reminding herself that this was now her title, her name.
"Yes, Yoko-san?"
"Will this make me happy?" When Utahime gave her what she was sure was a puzzled look, the young woman clarified, "I want to be as happy as you. Will this do that for me?"
The ritual she just did was to promote peace and fertility primarily, and to offer a second layer of protection within the space they would share together.
Utahime wasn't sure about the girl's circumstance. She didn't think she'd know that much even if she did have all her memories. But she was well-trained in offering people advice, so she stopped cleaning up for a second to sit next to the bride.
"I must be honest with you, Yoko-san," she said evenly, "happiness is an emotion. Fleeting and personal as it is, nothing external could guarantee it, especially not Jujutsu sorcery. That's too bold of a power, and it's based in negative emotion, the opposite of what you're looking for. All this will do is promote peace and fertility within your home. General states of being are easier to produce and control with Jujutsu than emotions are. Less backlash, too."
She grasped the young girl's hands. They were ice cold.
"If you want happiness, you can't wait for it. You will have to seize it yourself. And if your husband is anything like mine…"
Utahime thought about Gojo. The relentless mocking, the irreverent disregard for authority, the flouting of all rules he didn't feel like following. He moved through the world as if he were born above it, as if every law and social contract that ordered civilization was a suggestion he was free to ignore on a whim.
Yoko's husband would be nothing like that. Few people were born with the power to live like that, or the confidence to keep it up.
But Gojo was also someone reliable, dependable. Someone who expected a lot out of others because he could literally see what they were capable of. Someone to whom much was given, and so much was also required. And in turn, he expected that same loyalty, diligence, and determination from those he chose to be around him.
They had to prove themselves to him, just like he continued to prove himself to the world.
"If your husband is anything like mine," Utahime repeated, a bit softer, more personal this time, "then you can't be content to sit back and take whatever he gives you. You have to show up, not just for him or your family or your household, but also for yourself. Most importantly for yourself. Let him see how highly you think of yourself and that you won't settle for anything less than that. Make him respect you, and show him how to make you happy."
She shocked herself at her little speech. She'd meant every word, but almost couldn't tell where they came from. Not like when the curse put words in her mouth, but something different. Deeper.
Almost as if…
Yoko's large brown eyes widened. "That…doesn't sound anything like what I've been told."
Utahime wanted to roll her eyes. She could worry about it later.
"What you were told was said by those who didn't believe their happiness mattered in a marriage. You do." She looked Yoko over. "Do you want to marry him?"
It was a bold question. Arranged marriages weren't uncommon amongst old clans, and if Yoko had said no, she might've felt obligated to do something about it. But thankfully, the young girl nodded emphatically.
"It was arranged," she confirmed Utahime's suspicions, "but he's been good to me. Kinder than anyone else. I'm…" she looked around, leaning into Utahime to whisper. "I'm glad to be leaving my house, and he's expressed a similar wish to create one for ourselves unlike the ones we've known."
The sentiment landed deep in Utahime's gut. Some echo of her short-lived fantasy rang true for a moment, the dark lit images she fantasized on a whim turning, morphing into something brighter, more tangible.
More real.
A page in her not-grimoire that she'd been fascinated by popped into her head. A stroke of inspiration flooded her. Utahime looked around, patting herself down until she remembered the pin in her hair. Pale red stones dangled off of them on golden chains.
Quickly, with a single-minded intensity that shocked her, Utahime ran through a new ritual, melding this one with her old one. She truly hoped the other Utahime wouldn't mind, but she'd leave a note detailing what she did just in case.
"New energy," she said, "so you may always have the courage to try things your way, without worrying about how they should be."
With a small glow of cursed energy, the new stones melded to the bride's chain, hanging over the round disc of the pendant.
"And this will let everyone know you have my favor. You hold all of the cards."
Yoko's eyes filled with tears, and Utahime braced herself as she was drawn into a fierce hug.
"Oh, thank you!" she cried. "Thank you so much, Gojo-sama!"
"Please, just Utahime."
"Utahime-sama!"
She shrugged. I'll take it.
And when Utahime finally left the bride's chambers, it took everything in her not to scream when she all but bumped into Gojo, leaning against a column right outside the door.
"You're very jumpy," he remarked.
Utahime frowned. "You like popping up all over the place."
"Hm."
He pushed off of the column. Of course, they'd be dressed in a matching set of clothes. But seeing Gojo in traditional dress was still strange. The kid practically lived in his uniform in her life.
He offered her an arm. "We're about to be late," he said. "I'll warp us."
Something about him was oddly quiet. "Gojo?" she asked, looking up at him.
But he only shook his head. "Tomorrow, right?"
She nodded. "Tomorrow."
For a third cousin she wasn't supposed to give a shit about, the wedding had been beautiful. They kept it to the families, not inviting too many outsiders. Perhaps it was a budget thing, but nothing that was spent was wasted. Every moment was set up to make it seem as if nature and the very sun itself was shining its light on the couple in approval. And Yoko, slightly emboldened, stared her groom in the face, holding his eyes with a smile. Utahime internally squealed when she saw the man squeeze her hand tighter, with a look akin to awe on his face.
After the ceremony, Shoko found her way to Utahime, apologizing profusely. "I swear, no one's going to be more excited than I'll be when we fix you," she said, glowering at no one and nothing. "No offense, but I can't wait for other Utahime to come back and finish implementing her system so we can hurry up and start doing the rounds."
Utahime had no idea what she was talking about, but it was hilarious to see Shoko muttering about incompetent sorcerers while looking the prettiest she'd ever looked in a purple and white kimono with her hair twisted up. She couldn't even take offense. After all, she wanted to fix this too.
But toward the end of the reception, disaster struck. Utahime had been with Shoko all night. Together, they made their rounds, talking to everyone so as not to offend anyone. With Shoko whispering in her ear, she managed to avoid offending anyone, remembering everyone with enough detail to satisfy them.
She was just waiting for Shoko to get back from the bathroom, thinking of their escape back to Tokyo, when Shoko rounded the corner with a stony look on her face. Utahime's heart dropped, and she immediately knew nothing could be so simple.
"Sorry, Uta," Shoko said, hooking their arms together and leading her down the hall. "I can't go home with you. The situation took a turn. I have to go back to Kyoto Tech now."
"Okay, I can just wait for you."
Shoko shook her head. "I think I'll be pulling an all-nighter, unfortunately. Trains won't be running by then. You can still take the last one out if you're fast enough. I'll give you my key, and you can grab your stuff—"
"Absolutely not."
Utahime had been avoiding Gojo all night. She stuck to Shoko as much as possible and hadn't actually seen him in hours.
But now he was advancing on them, right outside of the reception hall where he'd been standing alone. "It's about to storm. By the time we get back to the estate, it'll be too late to pack up, drive to the station, and go home."
"So what, you're suggesting we spend the night?" Shoko asked.
"Duh. Nothing stopping us from going home in the morning."
Shoko looked at Utahime. Not wanting her friend to suffer any more discomfort because of her, she jerked a nod. "That's fine with me," she said, looking at Shoko meaningfully.
"Yeah? You sure?"
"Yeah."
Gojo watched the entire interaction in silence.
Shoko turned to face him. "Can you send me to Kyoto Tech? I think the sooner, the better."
He nodded. Together, the three of them bid goodnight to the rest of the party. Yoko shocked everyone when she once again reached out to hug Utahime. "Thanks so much, Utahime-sama."
Ignoring the gasps of surprise, Utahime hugged her back just as fiercely. "Be happy, Yoko-san. You hear me?"
She giggled, maybe a few too many cups of sake in. "Loud and clear!"
They left shortly after.
Shoko undressed and redressed in record time, less than ten minutes total from them arriving back at the compound to her being teleported to campus. Just like Gojo predicted, very soon after that, it began raining. They made it to the bedroom, and then it began storming.
The seals on the doors helped stabilize them from the torrential winds that seemed to come out of nowhere, but that was only if you were inside. Outside was quickly becoming a madhouse.
Although she wanted nothing less than to be stuck alone with Gojo, her conscience couldn't keep Shigeko and her maids with her any longer. She dismissed them to their own quarters before they got too caught up in the rain. The uptick in the speed of the wind convinced them to go without too much more prompting.
When the last of them left, Utahime was alone with Gojo.
Unlike the last two times she saw him, he wasn't all over her. He didn't try to touch her or tease her or kiss her neck. He just peeled himself out of wet clothes with his back turned to her in silence.
Utahime struggled to do the same. Her layers were so much more complex, and she was having a bit of trouble reaching her obi. So she wasn't surprised when deft fingers fiddled at the tie at her waist, helping her with her clothes, peeling off the complicated layers until they got to a point where she could finish by herself.
"Thanks," she whispered.
He just nodded. "You have clothes in the dresser to the right," he pointed. "You can get ready for bed. I'll make us some tea."
She waited until he left the room, then all but flew to get dressed before he could find her naked. Thank goodness there were sensible pajamas mixed in with the…less sensible options. She finished buttoning up her shirt just as he walked back into the bedroom with two cups.
Utahime breathed in the delicate scent of the jasmine tea and took a cautious sip. It was perfectly brewed, not too sweet.
"Thank you," she said.
"You're welcome." He looked at her as he drank his own tea, and right before the silence grew too thick, he spoke. "You did well today."
"You think so?" she asked. "I improvised some of it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Like with Yoko's blessing…"
Utahime lost herself in explaining the intricacies of the improvised ritual based on what she'd remembered from her journal. It was fun, she thought, running through her thought process and explaining her work to someone else.
Even if that someone was Gojo.
"I think it's some of my best work yet," she said, nodding to herself. "Of course, I have no idea if it'll actually work, so I'll have to write it all down before I forget so I can reference it later."
Gojo yawned, stretching his arms out behind his head, his shirt riding up a little to expose a sliver of belly. "Should be fine. You did lots of research for that last ritual you referenced. It'll give them what they need."
"You think so?"
"Mm-hm." He stacked the empty cups on his nightstand and flopped down on the bed after peeling back the covers. "And if anything goes wrong, you'll just fix it."
"Hopefully I can," Utahime mumbled.
"Of course you can," Gojo said, yawning again. "Or at least the other you can, so you shouldn't worry about it. You coming to bed?"
Utahime didn't know what was worse, the mention of the other her or the realization that she'd been getting ready to share a bed with Gojo without realizing it.
"Come again?"
He just looked at her over his shoulder. "It's late, and I'm tired. And we probably have a long day tomorrow. Unless you wanna wander the halls for a spare bed, just get in already."
But she was frozen, rooted to her spot. "H-how…when did you…"
It was a blessing in disguise, this curse. Utahime wasn't sure what it was she would've said if it didn't make her swallow her words.
"Hm? Oh, I knew pretty much immediately."
So many things he'd said rushed back to her.
I forgot how excitable this one could get.
It's not my fault she's like this!
I warped all the way here instead of taking a flight, only for me to be thrown for a loop, surprised with a sight I never thought to expect.
Come on, I'm not so scary, am I?
Satoru. Get it right, Hime, jeez. Someone might think something if you don't.
You always reacted to me when I kissed you before.
You remembered.
Just thought you might need this.
He might as well have slapped her.
"Excuse me?!" She marched over to the bed and stood above him, glaring down at his half-lidded gaze. "You knew?"
Gojo snorted, putting his hands behind his head as he lazily watched her. "You're not that complicated, you know. Did you really think you were being clever enough to fool me, the greatest sorcerer of all time?"
All along…all along!
"You ass!"
She picked up the nearest pillow and started whacking him with it.
It was the least he deserved. Here she was, having a mental/psychological/metaphysical crisis over being in the wrong place with the wrong face, over getting home, over telling him or not, and the whole time he knew!
Gojo laughed, a little bit of the light coming back into his eyes. "What are you angry at me for now? I didn't do anything!"
"Exactly!" She whacked him again. "You could've said something!"
"You could've said something!"
"No, I couldn't!"
"Yes, you—wait, really? Huh, that's interesting. How'd Shoko know, then?"
Utahime rolled the words around her mouth until she found something the curse would let her say. "She noticed, and then she said something. Unlike a certain freakishly tall brat." Utahime raised the pillow to hit him again.
"Hey, I'm older than you now, aren't I?"
"That's not what you told Yaga."
Gojo only laughed. "Come on, it was funny."
She thought of all the things he did and said. Mating rituals and not talking and, and…he kissed her.
He kissed her!
"What part of you messing with me like that was funny to you?!"
She raised the pillow high again. Quick as the lightning flash that just illuminated the room, Gojo grabbed her by the wrist. In one fluid motion, he yanked the pillow out of her hand and pulled her down onto the bed beside him.
"Listen, Hime. I like playing with you, really. But I kinda haven't been sleeping for these past few weeks and it's catching up to me. So let's sleep for now and we can pick up where we left off tomorrow. Then maybe you'll finally let me help you, 'kay?"
Don't be stubborn! You can talk to me, I can help!
You're gonna have to eventually if we wanna get through this, you know. I can help.
I can help, Hime. What are you so scared of?
"You really knew?"
"Yep."
"All this time."
"Yep."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Where's the fun in that?"
She willed herself not to cry. She tried to ignore the tears pricking at her eyes.
"Oh, baby. You're fine. Come on, no need to cry. It's not that bad, is it?"
Even knowing that she'd suffer the humiliation for it later didn't make it stop. Utahime couldn't help it.
That night, as the storm raged outside, she cried herself to sleep in Gojo's arms.