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“I don’t see how singing a nursery rhyme is going to make me a better jujutsu sorcerer,” Fushiguro said.
“That’s because you don’t see things the same way I do. I am your teacher and your elder and I know what’s good for you. This game will hone your ability to remain steadfast in the face of absurdity while simultaneously training your hand-eye coordination! Not to mention it’s the perfect teambuilding exercise for the two of you.”
Gojo had said stupid things before, but this was quite possibly the most stupid thing Fushiguro had ever heard him say. It was obvious that Gojo was just avoiding work (as per usual) and that he was using Nobara being absent as an excuse to be lazy. “I think you just don’t feel like teaching this evening.”
Gojo gasped. “How could you say such a thing? I’m hurt you could even think such a thing. And after I went through all the trouble of learning this rhyme.” His voice quivered and he worked up a single crocodile tear that rolled down from beneath his sunglasses.
“Sensei!” Itadori exclaimed, raising his hand passionately, “I’ll play the game with Fushiguro!”
“Yay!” Gojo cried (tears nowhere to be seen). “Now bring your chairs up to the front, both of you.”
“I won’t,” Fushiguro said.
“You will,” Gojo replied, “or you’ll be on cleaning duty for the rest of the month.”
Fushiguro scowled but did as he was told. Itadori was already at the front of the classroom, sitting with his hands on his knees and a look of determination on his face.
“The rules are simple,” Gojo said. “First, you must maintain eye contact at all times. Second, you must not laugh or even think about laughing. Third, you must maintain a constant stream of regulated cursed energy between the two of you. Finally, and most importantly,” he said with a smile, “you cannot leave this room until you successfully complete the entire game.”
‘The Game’ in question was a simple clapping rhythm game that Gojo demonstrated using a desk as a partner. The rhythm was simple enough, consisting of cross pattern hand claps and a few knee slaps. The rhyme that they had to sing was something stupid about a sailor that Gojo had written on the white board before class.
“I feel like a preschooler,” Fushiguro complained, thoroughly irritated. It was insulting that Gojo thought this game would be a challenge for them.
“Isn’t it refreshing to feel so youthful? Now get to it! Begin!”
Fushiguro turned in his seat, held up his hands, and made eye contact with Itadori. Itadori busted up laughing immediately. Fushiguro’s heart sank.
~+~
It took them over an hour to finish the game. Itadori simply couldn’t hold it together. Every time Fushiguro thought they would make it, Itadori would guffaw and they would have to start over. At one point he was even on the floor holding his sides and howling with laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Fushiguro asked, trademark frown glued to his face. He didn’t see the humor in being held late in class. It was already past six and he had studying to do.
“It’s just-” Itadori gasped for air. “It’s just h-how serious you’re being about it! You’re so serious and – and-“ He doubled over laughing again.
Fushiguro still didn’t see what was so funny. “You should also be taking this seriously.”
“I am taking it seriously,” Itadori said between fits of laughter.
Of course, Gojo sat in the corner through it all, watching them with a smirk on his nasty, smug little face. Fushiguro wanted to punch it right off.
In the end, Fushiguro suspected that the only reason they finished was because Itadori couldn’t physically laugh any longer. The second they completed the final hand-clap knee-slap combo Fushiguro stood to leave. He had had enough of silly games.
“Excellent work!” Gojo shouted after him. “Oh, and Itadori, stay with me for just a few minutes, alright? I need to speak with you about something.”
~+~
Fushiguro decided to walk over to the study hall to grab his favorite drink before finishing the rest of his studies. It was well past nine o’clock and he needed a little bit of a boost. He was startled to see Itadori standing next to the vending machine so late at night.
“You’re up late,” Fushiguro said, selecting his drink.
“You drink coffee this late?” Itadori said. “Doesn’t it keep you up?”
“That’s the point,” Fushiguro said. He picked his drink up from the bin. Like always, it was obvious that Itadori had something else to say, so Fushiguro waited for him to spit it out.
“Um, Fushiguro? Could you help me find the way back to the dorms? I don't want to bother anybody, but the doors keep dumping me into weird rooms and I really don’t want to end up in that doll shrine again.”
The question hit Fushiguro like a brick to the gut. “Wait…has nobody ever told you how to navigate the campus?”
“…no…”
“You’ve been here for months. How were you finding your way around before?”
“I dunno, I guess I just followed everybody else?”
Fushiguro thought back on the last several months. In every memory he pulled up, Itadori was next to somebody else. Never alone. And come to think of it, Itadori had followed him home from class every single evening up until now. He could kill Gojo for overlooking something as simple as this. Still, it wasn’t Itadori’s fault; how could he have known? He hadn’t grown up with jujutsu fuckery like Fushiguro had. Fushiguro pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.
“So, just to clarify, nobody has ever told you about the doors?”
“Um, I don’t think so?”
“Okay. That’s fine. Let me show you how they work.”
Despite Itadori’s lack of experience, he was an eager student. It was easy explaining things to him, and Fushiguro didn’t mind playing the role of teacher (unlike a certain person who didn’t take their job seriously). He told Itadori about the barrier that protected the school and about how the 1,000 doors on campus shifted if you weren’t careful. “You have to visualize where you are going before you open the door. It’s like sensing what’s in front of you before you actually see it.”
“Ooooh, is this like that time Nanami Sensei taught me about sensing traces and residuals and stuff? Like fingerprints left behind at a crime scene?”
Fushiguro had no idea what Itadori was talking about sometimes. “Yes,” he said.
“But how come I never got lost when I opened the door to my room?”
“Probably because you already had a good sense of what your room felt like.”
“Oh, okay.”
They came to a stop in front of two nondescript doors. Fushiguro thought it was about time to test Itadori. “Which one will lead us to our dorm?”
“Hmm.” Itadori was clearly deep in thought. His brows were furrowed, and he was biting his bottom lip like he did when he couldn’t understand something in class. It was almost endearing the way his face was so open. Suddenly, his eyes lit up.
“It’s this one!” Itadori said, throwing the right-hand door open. The hallway to their dorm rooms stretched out before them. He turned to Fushiguro, grinning from ear to ear, his emotions once again written across his face.
“Next time you’ll be able to find it faster,” was all Fushiguro said in response, even though it was impressive that Itadori had caught on so quickly. Not that Fushiguro was surprised. Itadori was smarter than people gave him credit for.
Itadori stopped before entering his own room and looked Fushiguro straight in the eye. “Hey, thanks for always explaining things to me. Everybody says you’re soooo mean and scary, but you’re really the nicest person here.”
“Mean and-“ Fushiguro sputtered, caught off guard by both the compliment and the insult that had preceded it.
“Anyway, see you tomorrow,” Itadori said with a wave. “G’night!”
“Goodnight,” Fushiguro said after Itadori had already closed his door. Later that night, after finishing his coffee and his studies, he lay awake for some time thinking about expressive faces and compliments that came out of nowhere.