Chapter Text
Sparring with Gojo, as Yuuji finds, is less a heart-pumping sexy adventure as it is hitting a wall for several hours straight while the wall motivates you to hit harder. Sometimes the wall hits back and throws you into a tree. The anticipation of spending one on one time with his teacher blends into the heat of battle, Yuuji’s instincts and brain battling it out even as his fists feel like one big bruise, cursed energy behind them or not.
“You can do better,” Gojo says as they wind down, Yuuji lying on the ground of the remote woods that Gojo warped them to.
Yuuji opens bleary eyes to find his teacher crouched over him. Gojo’s chin rests on his hand, thumb brushing against the edge of his bottom lip. With the last of his energy, Yuuji manages to lift a thumbs up. “I’ll try.”
“The problem as I see it is that you don’t want to kill me. Technique can only be refined so far against allies.” Gojo sighs. “You don’t even respond to taunts.”
“You were taunting me?”
“What did you think I was doing when I called you weak?”
“Motivating me to be stronger so that I can support Fushiguro and Kugisaki better next time? It’s nothing I haven’t heard in my head.”
“I’ll need better motivational material…” Gojo says, thoughtfully. “Praise works as poorly as criticism in a different way. Your focus quickly leaves you.”
It doesn’t need to be stated where Yuuji’s focus goes when Gojo praises him on what his body can do. Yuuji would only be too happy to show his teacher what else his body can do. Tragically, after two weeks of living together, Gojo hasn’t made a single lecherous move. A part of Yuuji has been hoping that his teacher’s casual nature and lack of boundaries and propensity for teasing might reveal a deeper character flaw, but if he has any flaws, Yuuji hasn’t been able to unearth them. His soul’s as shiny as his lips, which at the moment are pursed.
Yuuji's never liked disappointing those he cares about. “I’ll try harder. I want to get stronger.”
Gojo’s hand drops down to pat him over where Ieiri’s incision mark used to be. “It’s on me as your teacher to properly nurture your skills. And I have just the thing for it.”
Sensei’s smile is dazzling. Yuuji would love for it to be the last thing he sees. When it has that hint of madness, he’s convinced that it will be. “What is it?”
“I’ll start having you accompany me on my weaker missions. Throw you into the fray, so to speak. You're doing well with our spars and the cursed energy practice, and your hand to hand is unmatched for a student. Let's see how you use that cursed energy rolling inside you.”
Yuuji scrambles upright, former tiredness forgotten. Hell yeah would he like to fight real curses. “Really? Thanks, sensei! When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow. Keep in mind that I’ll be observing you. Most of the time. Probably. If you try to die again, I’ll be displeased. I’ll make you watch the end of Titanic on a loop for hours.”
“Can we start with the cursed spirit off thataways?” Yuuji casts his thumb behind him. “It’s been, uh, growling with its cursed energy ever since we got here.”
Gojo’s tone turns pleased. “Very good. Your sense of cursed energy has improved. What grade is it?”
“Grade two?”
“On the cusp of grade one. I’ll be disappointed if you don’t demolish it.”
“Yes, sensei!” Yuuji pauses. “Was that a taunt or praise?”
“Does it matter?”
“Not really. You use them the same way.” Yuuji stands. When he does, Gojo doesn’t join him, remaining crouched on the ground and tilting his head up. It’s a little ridiculous with his broad form. “I won’t fail. I won’t be weak again."
Gojo hums. “I’ll keep throwing stronger opponents at you until you are. Don’t worry too much. We’ll make a monster out of you, but for the moment you’re still a munchkin.”
Yuuji can’t decide which point to argue with first. No, the most important: “I’m not a munchkin! Can’t I be a monster-in-training?”
A munchkin is deeply unsexy, after all. This isn’t a pet name that Yuuji has been daydreaming about!
“Maybe if you exorcise this curse without needing rescue.” Now that’s a taunt. Hot. “Go get this for me, Yuuji.”
After such a request, who could resist? Yuuji turns and heads deeper into the forest, where he discovers what must have been several hikers' worst nightmare. Gojo's not wrong; there is in fact something that Yuuji hasn’t been able to bring himself to use against him. Not because Yuuji is arrogant enough to think that he can harm him. Even minutes into their first spar, Yuuji understood that this wouldn't be the case. It's only that this isn't a power that he wants to use for the first time against Gojo.
"Dismantle," Yuuji says, and when it works, he feels a little like it worked its power on him, too, felling the hesitance that he's felt in embracing the fingers' power. He's been doing his part in digesting the fingers; he's been doing more than anyone's asked for, maybe. The curse doesn't last long after that.
When Yuuji returns to Gojo, he finds him in the same spot, leaning against a tree. Yuuji joins him panting, a head wound no longer leaking blood. He tried to smear it off, but he figures it’s all over his face anyway. There’s a satisfaction in his chest that he doesn’t get when fighting against Gojo, limbs loose. That wall’s demolished, unlike this one.
“Not bad,” Gojo offers.
“Not a munchkin?”
Past the blindfold, Gojo’s gaze is heavy enough to note as it casts down, then back up. “Not a munchkin. I'd be bored if you were.” His tone isn’t as teasing as it was. Rather more measuring. "We'll have you demolishing special grades in no time."
It’s the start of the next phase of Yuuji's post-death life. He feels something like a dog that Gojo carries around on missions, picking Yuuji up and sending him chasing after various curses. It's something of a sink or swim education, but Yuuji's always been better on his feet than in a classroom. He's learned to anticipate Gojo warping him out for a mission at any time.
A few days in, the target is a curse that's settled deep within a lake.
As he stands on the shore, Yuuji sighs. He kicks his sneakers off. "You could have warned me. I would have worn my old hoodie for this."
Gojo scoffs. "As opposed to this older hoodie?"
"I like this one!"
Gojo holds out a hand. "Alright, hand it over."
Yuuji throws it off along with his shirt, giving both to Gojo. "It's my Naruto shirt," he explains. "Special edition!"
On and off, Yuuji has pondered his mother's advice. It's probably a wash for him. When he recalls the seduction plots of Beach Days of Our Lives, it’s largely things he isn't inspired to do. He doesn’t want to cast doe eyes toward Gojo like Lena did toward Pablo, doesn’t want to giggle. Unfortunately, even on another look it doesn't seem like his bare chest will inspire his teacher to think less of him as a student and more as a very, very available sexual partner.
Yuuji looks between the small boat tied to a small pier and the lake. "Do you think I can use my technique underwater?"
"Sukuna was known to be able to hover in the air," Gojo says, sunnily. "Why don't you try it out?"
"I think I'd know if I could fly…" Yuuji closes his eyes and holds them firmly shut. After a few seconds of careful concentration, he opens one eye, gets disappointed, then opens the other. Sushi chef, get cooking!
In the end, this one is outside of Yuuji's skillset. The boat capsizes and Yuuji goes underwater, where he learns that fighting underwater is nearly hopeless. He gets his ass kicked for a while until Gojo steps in, taunting the curse as he throws himself at it. As Yuuji watches, he can’t decide if he wants to fight him or fuck him. Both, one turning into the other.
Gojo turns it into an impromptu lesson about domains, revealing for the first time what is under his blindfold.
Yuuji has trouble keeping his jaw from dropping. "Wow," Yuuji says, blinking. "Sensei, you have eyes!"
"Did you think I didn’t?"
"I was getting worried."
"You’re a pest," Gojo says, laughing. He blasts the curse out of existence, ending the domain. When it drops, Yuuji lands on the now right side-up small boat while Gojo hovers in the air. Lamentably, there isn't a single drop of water on Gojo, unlike Yuuji, who is drenched from his hair to his pants.
Still catching his breath from several dunks in the water by the curse, Yuuji can only stare into Gojo's eyes. He'd expected something special under the blindfold: a weird eye-void or eyes in any shade of the rainbow. He just didn't expect to be so arrested by them, caught like a curse.
The words spill out. "You have really pretty eyes. I can see why you keep them hidden. You’d get too many compliments."
Gojo inclines his head. "I do miss the compliments. Curses don't usually praise you."
"Do you only show your eyes to curses?"
“Not necessarily, but it's how it tends to work out. It takes a lot of energy for these to be as pretty as they are." From his position in the air, Gojo leans down to where Yuuji sits on the boat's one seat. "Seen enough yet?"
Yuuji tries to commit those eyes to memory. It's impossible. When he blinks despite himself, his mental image of those eyes can't measure up to the real thing. "No, but I don't want you to suffer. Did your blindfold fall in the water?"
"The floor of the boat," Gojo says.
Yuuji spares some attention for something that isn't his teacher and finds that the blindfold is in fact there. It's only a little wet. Yuuji spends a moment wringing it out first, then flattening the wrinkles out. It's a hopeless case, but if his teacher needs it, then it'll have to be good enough. Caught by an impulse, Yuuji reaches for Gojo's jacket, tugging him just that bit closer through the air before he wraps the blindfold around his teacher's head. It's less mysterious, less of an obstacle now that he was the one to put it on. He knows what's under it, now.
"Smells like seaweed," Gojo grumbles. He doesn't lean away.
When the boat sways, Yuuji steadies himself briefly with a hand against Gojo's jacket. His teacher doesn't move in the air. "Did it make you crave sushi, too?"
"Do you deserve it?"
"I got a hit in," Yuuji tries.
"Did you even use cursed energy against it?"
"Too busy trying not to drown." Yuuji catches the oars that Gojo throws his way and begins a steady pace back to the small dock. He's relieved they didn't damage the boat during the fight. It's someone's, well-kept without any mold that Yuuji can see. "What should I do next time against a curse like this?"
Gojo floats through the air next to him. "You can tell your teacher that you're not able to handle it."
"That doesn't sound like me." Much as Yuuji likes to win a fight, he likes the thrill of an unwinnable fight, too. There's a part of him that thinks that maybe next time, he'll be able to do it.
"I shouldn't have become a teacher. It's turned my hair gray."
"That's not what Dr. Ieiri says."
"Have you been gossiping about me?"
Yuuji casts a glance Gojo's way, turning his head from the shoreline. "A little. It's more fun than getting my vitals checked. She showed me photos from when you were my age. Your hair was just as white as it is now."
He's visited the morgue twice since his supposed death, both times under the cover of night. Ieiri checked his height and weight with a comment about how it shouldn't have fluctuated from his intake forms, then his blood pressure and something to do with his cursed energy. After that, they got to talking about the reverse cursed technique. Theoretically, Yuuji should be able to do it consciously now that he's healed himself, but in practice, he's been going to sleep with injuries gained during fights against curses or spars with Gojo, and waking up healed. It's some kind of reflex, but a slow reflex won't help him if he's bleeding out during a fight.
When Yuuji's attention started to wander during a session, Dr. Ieiri pulled out the photos. Yuuji's never gone from bored to attentive so fast.
"It went prematurely white when I realized how annoying the world was."
"Upon birth?"
"I'm told I was born bald. It took a week for the white to show itself."
Yuuji's tickled at the thought of Gojo as a baby. "Do you have pictures?"
"Not a single one. Shoko doesn't either, so you can't beg them off her." With a push of his leg, Gojo rights Yuuji's boat, which has started drifting toward him instead of toward the pier during their conversation. He looks as though he's about to say something else when instead he pulls out his phone. Yuuji catches a glimpse of a photo of a much younger Megumi on the call screen. He's covered in flour. "Your proof of life call awaits."
"Fushiguro!" Yuuji calls out. "How are you?"
"Why do you sound so far away?" comes Fushiguro's voice from the tinny speaker.
"I'm paddling a boat to shore. We exorcised a cursed spirit in the middle of a lake. Can you believe it? Gojo-sensei showed me his domain and he used Hollow Purple and everything. It was so cool." Yuuji proceeds to do a play by play for Fushiguro, who doubtlessly hasn't done anything as cool today, since Yuuji's had Gojo to himself all day.
Fushiguro isn't as starstruck as Yuuji. "Why is he making you paddle the boat? He can teleport."
Yuuji can just about imagine his friend's grumpy expression. He misses it, but he'll get it back soon enough. "I'm earning my sushi dinner!"
"Stop making excuses for him. After everything he did, he's making you earn your dinner?" Fushiguro sounds properly disgusted.
"You're acting like I kidnapped him," Gojo says.
Fushiguro scoffs. "You did."
"Not with any nefarious purposes." As if to prove his point, the boat gets an invisible shove forward through the water. Yuuji didn't need it, his muscles getting a good workout with the oars.
At Gojo's words, Yuuji perks up. "Were nefarious purposes on the table?"
"Don't besmirch my good name, Megumi," Gojo says into the phone. "Are the second years treating you well? How many times has Maki beat you up now?"
Fushiguro ignores the questions. "I'm calling again this time tomorrow."
"Say hello to Kugisaki for me," Yuuji calls out.
He's not sure if he got the words in before the call ends. It doesn't matter too much; he'll talk again to Fushiguro tomorrow. Fushiguro's more talkative when Yuuji takes the phone from Gojo and heads to his room. Sometimes Kugisaki joins them, complaining of everything from classes to the Kyoto students who visited the other day. Yuuji has heard a lot about Maki and Mai. He thinks he could identify them in a lineup from Kugisaki's descriptions alone.
When Yuuji finally makes it to the pier, he ties the boat up and meets Gojo on the rocky shoreline. To no surprise, he finds he's earned sushi dinner, which Gojo takes them to after a quick stop for a change of clothes on Yuuji's part. As much as his teacher teases, it's rare that he doesn't throw a treat Yuuji's way after a hard day, often in the form of food. It doesn't do much against one type of hunger that Yuuji feels, but it's nourishment, and it always tastes good.
After sushi, Yuuji asks for a detour. Gojo indulges him. "Is there something missing from my kitchen?"
"I need a lot more flour and baking supplies," Yuuji says. "Some packaged snacks. A few nice packages of nuts, too, the ones that Kugisaki likes. I'm making snack boxes for Fushiguro and Kugisaki."
Gojo snags a shopping cart. "You're spoiling them. First it's preventing them from agonizing over your death, then it's snack boxes of all things."
"They're training hard. They deserve something nice!" Yuuji throws a bag of flour in the cart, mentally going through a couple recipes. "Besides, it’s my first time having proper friends. I don’t want them to forget me."
Gojo's posture is ridiculous, leaning over the cart at his height to rest his elbows on the handle. "That's impossible. No classmate of theirs has died on them before. It's rather unforgettable."
"I hope I didn't traumatize them," Yuuji says.
"You traumatized me."
"You don't look very traumatized, sensei."
"I hide it well."
Yeah, maybe. For all that Gojo is over the top with his moods, Yuuji's aware that there's much under the surface that he doesn't see, not only the blindfold for cover. He hasn't known his teacher for long enough to understand him better; he wants to, though. "You like sweets. What are your favorite flavors? What combinations? What texture—soft, sticky, cake, toffee?"
"Yuuji," Gojo says, voice warm with growing delight.
It's never going to get old, hearing his name from Gojo's mouth. "I've never liked toffee. It always sticks in my teeth."
"Then you haven't had enough good toffee," Gojo says, and proceeds to rank his favorite desserts based on a grading scale more intricate than anything Yuuji's ever seen from him as a teacher.
Yuuji listens attentively as he throws snacks and ingredients into the cart. His snack boxes get funded by Gojo at the register, the card swiped before Yuuji can even make a move. Afterward, Gojo uses insider knowledge to pick up Fushiguro's childhood favorite snacks, warping them in and out of several different stores. The next day is taken up with baking, three boxes packed tightly with treats. Kugisaki largely prefers savory, while Fushiguro is in the middle between hers and Gojo's sugary box.
Having never baked for anyone other than his grandfather, it sends a pang through Yuuji to know that his grandfather will never try these. His grandfather's appetite was weak for the last few months of his life, his taste for desserts slipping. Yuuji would still tell him about the meals he made and the pastries he baked just to assure him that he was eating well. These days, Yuuji's own appetite has slipped; it's not this kind of food that he truly craves, even as he enjoys the taste.
One box he sets in Gojo's hands, while the others land just outside Kugisaki and Fushiguro's doors at night courtesy of a quick warp.
Whether they like them, Yuuji doesn't immediately find out. When Gojo announces that he has a mission that will take him away for a few days, he assigns Yuuji to work with a colleague.
"No matter how good he is, you're still obligated to like me more," Gojo says after he introduces Nanami Kento.
Yuuji can't imagine otherwise. Who wouldn't prefer Gojo? “Not an issue! Never an issue! Gojo-sensei is the best.”
"Correct answer," Gojo says, his lips curling up.
When Yuuji catches a sight of Nanami to the side, his expression doesn't seem nearly as happy. Feeling bad that he's been ignoring him, Yuuji says, "Nice to meet you, Nanami! Do you still go to punk concerts on the weekends like you did when you were in school?"
"Excuse me?"
"I remember you from Dr. Ieiri's photos! I almost didn't recognize you. Your hair is so different."
"Please forget you saw those, Itadori."
Without Gojo's power of teleportation, Yuuji and Nanami rely on Ijichi to drive them. A curse attacked several high school students at a movie theater, which Yuuji finds particularly egregious. A movie theater is a sacred place.
He quickly gets caught up in the mystery of the students' deaths, learning from Nanami and tracking down Yoshino Junpei alongside Ijichi. Yuuji is quick to like him despite the need for caution. Junpei shares his love of horror movies and his propensity for being a loner, though Yuuji's managed to work on that recently. He meets Junpei's mom, who's young and funny and has the most outrageous anecdotes that embarrass Junpei and entertain Yuuji. She's as quick to laugh as her son is quick to frown.
It makes it that much harder, later, when Yuuji has to tell her of Junpei's death by the patchwork face curse that fled after a protracted battle against Yuuji and Nanami. Yuuji doesn't tell her about how Junpei was manipulated in his final weeks of life by the curse, doesn't tell her about the form Junpei's body took directly before his death. Yuuji chokes out an apology and barely makes it out of the apartment without crying when she hugs him before he goes.
He thinks he might break down in the stairwell, but the tears don't come. It's like they're stuck in the back of his head, trapped by futile rage.
Downstairs, Ijichi is parked at the building's entrance. Yuuji's steps feel slow, ungainly as he approaches. He gets into the front seat.
"Itadori?"
"I can't go back to the school yet. There's some things I need. Can we make a few stops?" He looks away before he can see how Ijichi looks at him.
"Of course. Where to?"
"I don't know exactly. I'll give directions."
To his credit, Ijichi doesn't call him crazy. They drive silently except for Yuuji's instructions, which largely amount to a vague that way for a while. It's nothing new, this tug. It's been something Yuuji thought he could ignore. And he did, up until now. He’s angry, he’s grieving, and he’s so fucking hungry it hurts.
Once the car stops, Yuuji exits to a parking lot. A long, long time ago, there was something else here. A temple of some kind. Yuuji sends an apology to the lot's owners before he smashes his fist against the concrete. A layer of concrete, then stone, then a long-lost finger wrapped in cloth.
Yuuji thinks of monsters, human and otherwise, and he tears the finger in two with his teeth as he shoves it down his throat. To Ijichi, he says, “There’s another one close by.”
To Yuuji's relief, Gojo hasn't returned from his mission by the time Yuuji returns to his home. It's easier to cry without company. Yuuji cried once for his grandfather; he can give Junpei this once, too.
In the morning, Yuuji lies in bed, holding his hands up in the air as he looks at his black nails. He heads out before the rest of the school wakes, walking to the train station. His head's still not where it should be, but it's enough to get him from the station onto the train, then from the train to the movie theater. It's not the same one that the patchwork curse killed the students at. This one, Yuuji has visited in the past.
He takes a seat in the back and watches the movie. The events on the screen largely go past him. Halfway through, someone sits down next to him. For the first time in his life, Yuuji doesn't turn his head Gojo's way.
It's not until the credits roll and the lights turn on that Yuuji says, "I'm not good company right now."
"You don't have to be." Gojo sets a store-bought bento box onto Yuuji's lap.
Despite himself, Yuuji opens it. He's hungry. The last thing he ate didn't involve a lot of nutrients of the nourishing kind. The onigiri goes down harder than Sukuna's fingers. "I wish he hadn’t died, that’s all." Yuuji swallows. "I kept thinking… he’d get on with Fushiguro, you know? And Kugisaki would complain about another boy around, but he’d draw her all pretty and she’d fold. His mom doesn’t have anyone else. I didn't tell her I killed him."
"It wasn't Junpei in the end. There wasn't anything left of who he was. Don't blame yourself, Yuuji. If anything, you can blame me. Much good I did, trying to keep death at bay."
Finally, Yuuji looks his way. There's enough light in the room to see Gojo. He looks the same, but Yuuji's vision is all different, today. "You’re not a god, sensei."
"Occasionally I’m reminded of this."
And Yuuji knows that there are things pink hair and an indominable force of will won't fix, but this is the first time he's encountered something on this scale. He couldn't do anything about his grandfather's cancer. But this time, he could have done something if only he'd been better, stronger. If he'd trained more and ogled his teacher less, maybe. It's all futile, he knows, every bargain he makes with himself. It's not going to get Junpei back. It's not going to heal Nagi's pain.
When the bento box is reduced to just plastic, Gojo takes it from him and Yuuji lifts his feet to curl into himself on the seat.
He doesn't look up as Gojo stands. "Give me a minute."
When Gojo returns, it's to a new movie starting and no one else having entered the theater, the previous movie-goers in the rows in front of them now gone.
At Yuuji’s questioning look, Gojo says, "I booked the room. You can tell them to change the reel."
"Anything but Human Earthworm," Yuuji says. "What did you choose?"
"Greatest hits of Takashi Miike."
"Thanks, sensei."
When Yakuza Apocalypse ends, the credits don't roll for more than a minute before the next movie starts up. Yuuji doesn't take long to realize it's Over Your Dead Body. Any other day, this would have been a good movie binge watch. Any other day, Yuuji could have appreciated it.
"I don't know what it's all for," Yuuji eventually says, ignoring the happenings on screen. "What's the point if I can't even save anyone?"
"You can save some people. Not everyone, not anyone. Don't get too arrogant. Even I can't save everyone." Gojo sighs. "My goal, my intention, is to change jujutsu society from within. To leverage powerful students against the stodgy elite, until their opinions are in the minority."
His chin resting on his knees, Yuuji turns his head Gojo's way. "It's a good goal?"
"You said you would help me with it. So you’ll have to pick yourself up if you intend to fulfill that promise. I can’t use you like this."
Yuuji's laugh is more strangled than not. "Sensei."
"Don't sensei me."
"You're terrible at giving comfort."
And still he looks at Gojo and thinks about what it would be like, a society with a dozen, two dozen strongest, Gojo just one of them. It's a good dream. Yet for all that Gojo's plan is to better the jujutsu world, it's kind of selfish, too. Yuuji figures that most students don't know they're in the middle of a tug of war between Gojo and the archaic state of jujutsu society, shaped by purpose other than simple education. But there's worse things than being selfish, especially when one is magnetic and interesting and too attractive by far.
"Jujutsu High hasn't lost a student since I began my teaching career. You came the closest. I won't lose you to grief, either."
"You won't," Yuuji promises. "I'll leave the rest of the grief to Junpei's mom. That's where it belongs."
Yuuji doesn't have a claim to it, not really, not after letting Junpei's killer go free. Nanami must not have been able to track the patchwork curse down. There's no message from him like he promised he'd send if he managed to find it. While Gojo leaves to pick up a few snacks from the concession stand, Yuuji's thumb hovers over Nanami's text message chain on his phone. Instead of asking again if there's been any progress, Yuuji taps onto another contact.
He breathes it in, breathes it out, the useless anger and the lingering threat and the renewed grief, so fresh again. Do curses deserve a proper death, too? Yuuji doesn't know. He can’t bring himself to call, so he texts instead.
To: Mom 👻
From: Yuuji
It's been a weird day. I met a curse that has the ability to manipulate another’s soul
To: Yuuji
From: Mom 👻
Did my baby devour him?
To: Mom 👻
From: Yuuji
He got away
To: Yuuji
From: Mom 👻
Tell me more about this fellow
Yuuji does. When Gojo returns, Yuuji stands to help him with the snacks, taking a soda and depositing it on his arm rest. "Can I hug you?"
Gojo's arms envelop him almost before he finishes asking the question. It’s tragic, but Yuuji can’t even appreciate Gojo’s firm muscles. Not when he kind of wants to cry. He won't. He can't cry more for Junpei than he did for his grandfather. Can't think about his mom, either, and deals half-understood.
"It'll be easier next time," Gojo says. His voice is quiet despite the empty theater.
Yuuji digs his face into the crook of his teacher's neck. Against his teacher's jacket, he says, "Please stop talking, Gojo-sensei."
His teacher's hand lands in his hair, stroking. It feels nice. He doubts that Gojo will accept hugs as a daily necessity for life, but maybe he can get Fushiguro and Kugisaki in on it when he returns to life. They both look like they'd give good hugs.
Yuuji wipes at his eyes after he lets go. "I didn't even know him for long."
"Sometimes, that doesn't matter as much as it should," Gojo says, and he hands him the popcorn. "As the Gods Will is up next."
Yuuji once spent an afternoon on horror movie enthusiast forums discussing the movie's ending. It all feels so far away now, but he can summon a thread of that old joy. "Have you seen it?"
Maybe that's all there is to it; taking that thread and spinning it until it's enough to make something with.
To: Yuuji
From: Mom 👻
Thank you for the present. I received him 😘
In the morning, Yuuji wakes from troubled dreams. He glances into Gojo's bedroom as he heads to the kitchen, seeing it occupied. Rarely has Yuuji found him asleep. Gojo usually goes to bed later and wakes up earlier, running on some kind of endless stream of energy. Yuuji makes two cups of coffee: one with milk, the other with sugar and syrup. He tastes Gojo's cup before he brings it to his bedroom. It's not bad.
By the time the coffee makes it to Gojo's nightstand, Gojo is already stirring. He sits up in bed. Yuuji means to walk away, but he's frozen on the spot. His teacher's hair is mussed, his nightshirt more than half unbuttoned. He's not wearing his blindfold. Yuuji watches as Gojo takes one sip of coffee, then another. The movement of his throat, his chest. Yuuji can't catch a glimpse of chest hair through the nightshirt. It must be white. It has to be.
Gojo pats the bed. Yuuji's knees buckle as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed. He holds onto his own cup of coffee with white-knuckled desperation.
"I'm never up first," Yuuji manages to say.
"I spent some time searching for the patchwork curse last night. I took over from Nanami. I'm sorry that I couldn't find it for you."
"Ah," Yuuji says. He presses his hands into the heat of the mug. "I told my mom about the curse."
That cute sleepiness leaves Gojo's expression. "Complaining to your mom? I hope not about my teaching skills."
Yuuji shakes his head quickly. "No, never about you. Never about Fushiguro or Kugisaki." He knows, thoroughly, that his teacher is the strongest. But it's not strength that Yuuji needs, sometimes. "Mom settled it."
"Did they? When Nanami couldn't, even if it was weakened after the battle," Gojo muses. "Take it easy today."
"I don't know if I can. I'd rather be busy."
"What do you need from me?"
He asks it from his bed.
"Don't ask me that," Yuuji says, feeling like he might choke on the level of his attraction at any minute.
Gojo takes a sip of coffee. "Because you're too grief-filled to answer, I see." Even behind the mug, there's a tug to his lips, amusement.
And if you can't joke about grief, what can you, really. "Junpei would have wanted me to have a Human Earthworm marathon in his honor."
"I don't know if I have another movie marathon in me. I'm getting old. Tell me about the plot instead."
Yuuji hopes that his baffled expression conveys to Gojo just what he thinks of that. Getting old, honestly. If anything, his teacher is just getting hotter day by day. Yuuji will be the first to assert this. Especially from this view right here. "Are you sure? There are six movies."
"I'll make the time," Gojo says, leaning back against the headrest.
Yuuji settles in at the foot of the bed, cross-legged. He brings his phone out for visuals, tapping black nails against the screen as he discusses the series protagonist's trials and tribulations. He thinks he'll probably never be able to think of Human Earthworm without thinking of Junpei, the two forever intertwined. But neither will he be able to think of it without thinking of this moment, of his teacher's incredulous laughter when Yuuji seriously discusses earthworm reproduction and fan theories about the earthworm's parentage. Of the way Gojo looks when he's in bed, relaxed and almost fond, of the way he kicks Yuuji from under the covers when Yuuji talks about how this series might be the most meaningful portrayal of humanity in film. Yuuji rests a hand on Gojo's blanket-covered foot. Lightly at first, then lets the weight of his hand settle.
"How do you think the series will end?" Gojo asks.
"Kill off the earthworm and make a spin-off series about his kids, which ends up bombing after one movie but generates a few funny memes," Yuuji answers. He's put a lot of thought into this in between movie releases. "It's either that or he dramatically returns to the earth forever, only coming up during a heavy rain." When the time glows on his phone, Yuuji can hardly believe it. "Wow, I've taken up your morning. Regret asking?"
"No," Gojo replies. His coffee mug has long since been empty, though Yuuji has refilled it twice. "I can't say I do."