Chapter Text
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You're convinced that Gojo Satoru will be the death of you.
Not because you're a curse he's hunting or a sorcerer gone rogue—no, you’re not an enemy of his or a threat to the sorcerer world. You’re just a girl whose chances of pursuing a romantic relationship with the customer she has a crush on have been thoroughly sabotaged by the strongest sorcerer in the world.
You're not sure why Gojo's efforts to help seem minimal. Does he have a crush on you? Or is he just unwilling to help Nanami? Either way, you're certain it's the latter.
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You own a small bakery-turned-café in Shibuya named Bento and Tea. What was once your parents' pride and joy became yours after their passing. You take great pride in the lunches, treats, and drinks your café offers. With tea imported from China and India and coffee beans from Tanzania and Indonesia, your café attracts tea and coffee lovers from all over Tokyo.
Business is good, allowing you to employ a small team ranging from teenagers to university students. Though you manage the behind-the-scenes work like payments and new menu ideas, you enjoy working the front too.
You’ve encountered a range of customers, from generous businessmen to those you hope never return. You thought you'd seen it all—until a man with white hair (which you’re convinced can’t be natural) and a black blindfold walked in and ordered one of everything on the menu. And, to top it off, he bought multiple treats for himself, making it clear he had quite the sweet tooth. You couldn't help but stare, mouth agape, at his peculiar appearance.
Can he even see me? you wonder, glancing at his blindfold. Who wears a blindfold at noon? But you quickly shift your thoughts to see if he’s serious about his order. After all, who are you to judge?
“Are you sure?” you ask, meeting what you think are his eyes.
“If I wasn’t, would I ask?” he replies with a grin that’s hard to ignore. The first thing Gojo thinks is that you’re cute. You’re shorter than him, making him look down at you, and the pink apron adorned with chibi animals you’re wearing only adds to your charm. He finds the way your mouth hangs open in disbelief endearing.
You quickly close your mouth, realizing he has a point, and start punching in his order. As you hand him the receipt, you give the order to Mina in the kitchen, who gasps audibly before rushing around to prepare the drinks. Meanwhile, you pack each pastry and lunch item into their respective containers.
Looking up, you notice that Gojo’s eyes (or where his eyes should be) have never left you. He watches intently as you work, and you can't help but wonder, Do I have something on my face?
“Is this for a company dinner or party?” you ask, leaning on the glass case. He laughs, and the sound is so pleasant that your heart does a little flip.
“What if I told you it was for myself?” he teases, watching your eyes widen before you quickly compose yourself. You’re not sure if one man could possibly eat everything he’s ordered or if he’s just messing with you.
“Then I’d say you have the biggest sweet tooth I’ve ever seen,” you reply, flashing a small smile as you hand him the bags. You notice his hands—long fingers with naturally prominent veins—hands that are surprisingly graceful.
“I’d say I’m a man of taste, wouldn’t you agree?” he quips, and you let out a laugh, nodding as you place the drinks in a cardboard holder. Seeing his hands are full, you offer to help by carrying the drinks and walking him to the door.
“Figured you might need a hand,” you say, holding the door open with your hip. Gojo smiles and follows you to a black car parked out front. As he settles into the passenger seat, you take a peek inside and spot an older man who looks visibly stressed as the driver, and three teenagers in the back—a boy with wild black hair, a girl with short orange hair, and another boy with pinkish-brown hair.
“Thanks for the food and drinks!” the pink-haired boy and orange-haired girl shout in unison, while the black-haired boy gives you a polite nod. You smile back at them before Gojo takes the box of drinks from you.
“Thank you!” Gojo says, taking your hands in his for a brief moment before the car speeds off into the streets of Shibuya. You watch the car until it disappears, then rush back into the café, excitement bubbling within you.
You’re not sure if you’re more thrilled about meeting one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen (even if his hair seems fake) or about the massive order.
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As luck would have it, the white-haired man returns to the café. Again and again.
It becomes a routine—every Wednesday, Gojo Satoru strolls in, orders an absurd amount of pastries and drinks (often more than he could possibly eat alone), and strikes up a conversation with you. You learn that he’s 29, a teacher at Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, and that he’s practically a father to three teenagers—Fushiguro, Kugisaki, and Itadori. You also learn that he’s the strongest sorcerer in the world.
You find his claim of being a "sorcerer" a bit dubious. Surely, that’s just his way of saying he’s a teacher at some mysterious school, one that likely has some shady dealings behind its doors. *What kind of school even has the word "curse" in its name and so few students?*
While you know better than to pry into the specifics, you form a close bond with Gojo. He makes you laugh, he’s undeniably charming, and he brings a hefty amount of business to your café. His students become regulars, and they seem to adore you just as much as he does.
You’re grateful for Gojo and all he’s done for your café. Sometimes, you reward him with a heart-shaped pastry to show your appreciation, which he always accepts with the biggest smile. Over time, he starts bringing in odd items he claims will bring good luck to the store (*more like items to protect you*).
Though Gojo is a bit eccentric and cocky, you come to realize he’s a genuinely good person.
When he has the time, Gojo helps you close up the café, often putting away supplies that are out of your reach. You trust him enough to let him close up shop on the days you need to run errands or catch your favorite show. He even drops you off at home sometimes, with the help of Ijichi, whom you repay with pastries and free lunches for the rides.
Your friendship with Gojo is one you cherish deeply. At 26, you’re glad to have more friends your age in your life. Being a café owner can get lonely, and spending most of your time with teenagers can be exhausting.
On days when the café is closed and your schedules align, Gojo takes you out to eat and to the movies. He takes an absurd number of pictures with you, which you later see plastered all over his Instagram feed, bringing a smile to your face.
But as wonderful as Gojo is, he’s not the best wingman.
One day, after having lunch with him and scrolling through his Instagram, you spot a picture of him with a blonde man in a khaki suit and cheetah-print tie. While Gojo keeps nudging you about how good he looks in the photo, your eyes are glued to the man next to him.
How can a man be so beautiful? you wonder, heart doing somersaults as you nudge Gojo and point at the blonde-haired man.
“I think I’ve met the love of my life!” you exclaim, beaming at Gojo, who looks at you as if you’ve lost your mind before bursting into laughter.
“Him?!” Gojo asks, clutching his chest as he continues to laugh, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. But when he sees the serious look on your face, he stops.
“Oh, you’re actually serious?” he asks, and you nod vigorously, grabbing his phone to search for any mention of the blonde man.
“I’m serious, Gojo. Please set me up with him!” you plead, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes and squeezing his hands.
Gojo glances at you, his heart pounding in his chest as you hold his hands. The way you’re looking at him, the way your lips pout, and the length of your eyelashes—it’s enough to make him do almost anything for you.
Gojo’s cheeks flush, and he realizes that he’s developed the biggest crush on you.
He’s not sure when it started. Maybe it was the chibi apron you wear, the one that’s a bit too big but you continue to wear because it’s "stylish." Maybe it was the way you acknowledged him as just Gojo, not the strongest sorcerer in the world. You don’t praise him for his strength or abilities but for things like his cooking and god-sent massages.
It’s those little things that Gojo appreciates. You don’t pressure him to save the world or tell him what he must do.
You’re the type of person who feeds stray animals, gives food to the homeless, and treats his students and colleagues like family. You take time out of your hectic schedule to spend with him, making him lunch and leaving him little notes and heart-shaped sushi. Your bakery is his escape from the sorcerer world, and he’s grateful that you never push him to answer questions about his work.
And as you keep squeezing his hands, Gojo realizes that you’re exactly what he’s been craving—someone who sees him for who he truly is, not just for his strength or abilities.
But he also realizes something else: he’s completely and utterly screwed.