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He meets her for the first time when he’s a freshman. Iori Utahime, she introduces herself. She’s unmistakably plain, but she stands out among other seniors–reluctant because there are two special grades as their juniors.
“Nice to meetcha, Utahime,” Satoru grins. Utahime shoots him a glare.
“It’s Iori-senpai to you,” is all she says before turning away, not giving him a second glance. Satoru doesn’t favor those who have too many rules, such as the jujutsu higher-ups–so he decides that he doesn’t care and calls her by her first name anyway.
“Geez. Okay, senpai,” he snickers mockingly. Suguru gives him The Look and Satoru stops right there, but not before he catches her trying so hard to look dignified.
Huh. Cute.
“Shoko, you’re on friendly terms with her, right?” Satoru elbows her softly. Shoko side-eyes him, knowing where this conversation goes.
“Don’t you dare,” she says. Satoru rolls his eyes. “You’re literally a manwhore. You think I’ll let you touch her? Over my dead body, Gojo.”
“Ouch,” says Suguru.
“Simply put, Utahime is a nice person. Don’t you dare break her heart, or I’ll dissect you alive. I mean it.”
“Fine, fine,” Satoru sighs dramatically. “I just want to get closer with our senpai, what’s so wrong with that?”
“It’s always wrong when it comes to you,” Suguru says matter-of-factly. Satoru rolls his blue sky eyes. Unfortunately for Suguru and Shoko, Satoru has made up his mind: he wants to have fun with Utahime. When he says have fun , it really means he wants to have a taste of her. And he will.
After all, what Satoru wants, Satoru gets.
Satoru starts with morning greetings. Sometimes he’ll call her Utahime just to see how she’ll react. She’ll respond nonetheless, albeit curtly and coldly, before turning to Shoko, giving her a warmer response. He doesn’t care that she picks favorites and he’s not one of them; he’s there just to mess with her anyway.
But then Yaga announces a joint-mission, and he’s paired with Utahime. It’s a simple mission, really; before Satoru can even witness Utahime’s cursed technique, one flick of his finger kills the grade three curse.
“Senpai, you’re so slow,” Satoru smirks. “Are you even worthy to be called my senpai?”
She scowls, but she still tries to maintain her composure. “Well, it can’t be helped, right? You’re a special grade compared to me,” she sighs, but then she smiles. A genuine one, her face basked in the afternoon glow. “Anyway, thank you, Satoru. I owe you one.”
When Utahime turns her heels to go back to the car where the auxiliary manager is waiting, Satoru turns off his limitless, letting his skin touch her shoulder lightly. “What?” She halts her step.
“We still have time, and I’m hungry, he says. Since you owe me one… you can pay me back by giving me your time. Why don’t we find a place to eat? I heard there’s a nice hole-in-a-wall within this area.”
Utahime contemplates for a bit before she nods, a thin smile on her face. “Okay, show me the way.”
Now that he finds out what she likes, he asks her for more time together. “Senpai, I found a restaurant that serves a delicious meal set! Let’s go there for lunch!” Is his usual line.
Utahime wants to be a reliable senpai, and Satoru takes advantage of this fact. He pretends to be bad at math when his cursed technique literally derives from math, and Satoru asks to study together. “Didn’t you get a perfect score for last week’s test?” Suguru whispers, and Satoru elbows his gut just enough to shut him up.
Truth be told, Satoru has been sleeping around since he was 15 so he can feel anything else aside from numbness.
When Satoru was born, the balance in the world changed. His name was put on bounty hours after his birth, and all he’d ever been told by the grown-ups of her clan were to be perfect, because he’s one of strongest beings in this world. Even when he has Suguru on his side, being the one-half of the strongest duo is still exhausting.
He lost his virginity to an older woman but not older than 18, maybe, someone with a much lower rank in his clan. She’s beautiful, with long, dark hair, and there are sparks in places she touches. Sleeping around gave him something to do at night when he cannot sleep–it’s always difficult for him to sleep–instead of staring at the ceiling for hours. But as soon as she asked for whatever arrangement they had to be labeled, Satoru ended it.
So he made rules, and they’re simple: I won’t do it with someone committed; I’m here for the fun, not the drama. And never, ever ask for my phone number, because I’m not here to stay.
He’s not sure if he wants to try it with someone from the school–this is the first time he ever pursues someone with the same line of work. But, eh, she’s graduating this year anyway.
Who cares.
Utahime is good at singing.
Forget good, it’s perfect . Her name doesn’t mean “songstress” for nothing. She knows literally every song. The first-years are invited by the fourth-years for some get-together at the karaoke, and that’s where he finds out: Satoru is pretty good at singing–he’s good at everything he puts his mind to–but in this 3 x 3 karaoke room, no one beats Utahime’s singing voice.
Satoru always has trouble sleeping–of countless missions, of being demanded to be perfect–which is why he goes around the day to find anyone to lay down with at night, because it’s the only way he doesn’t have to stare at the ceilings for hours trying to sleep.
But he knows, he knows, that this is the voice that will finally lull him to slumber, and he wants to hear more of it.
“Senpai, sing me something,” he says, a day after the karaoke night.
“Why?” she asks, brows arched.
“I like your singing voice.”
Utahime closes her book with a sigh but sings a melody anyway. If the school library is the ocean, Satoru is a hungry mortal finding honey in the form of her voice, luring him in; and in he goes, his neck on her hands before she breaks it in two.
Satoru turns off his limitless around Utahime so he can lean on her, and it stays that way for each of their meetings.
“I think it's time for you to stop doing the twice-a-week after-school tutoring session, Gojo,” Shoko chides him one day.
“Why not?” Satoru asks playfully.
“First, you don't even need it,” Shoko rolls her eyes. “And second… I heard Utahime-senpai is betrothed.”
It’s all it takes for him to feel a weird, tingling sensation on his skin. It makes him feel alert that he annihilates 12 special grade curses looming in the neighboring town with his limitless. It's so quick that he doesn't even give any curse left for Suguru to deliver the final blow.
It's not like Shoko drops the bomb on purpose–she just hears about it recently from Utahime herself: he's an older, first-grade sorcerer from another ancient, well-respected but smaller and lower-ranked clan, just like her own. Satoru doesn't give enough fuck to give to find out about this man's identity. But he wants to know why .
“Satoru, don't tell me... are you jealous?” Suguru, the ever-considerate friend of his, drops the question after he finishes the clean-up (too much of a clean-up, because Satoru is definitely overdoing this).
“Huh? Jealous of who?”
Suguru shoots him a weird look, but he doesn't pry further.
“I see that you're into arranged marriage shit, senpai,” Satoru mocks her in their next meeting.
“Where is this coming from, Gojo?” Utahime frowns, visibly annoyed from his sudden hostility.
“I heard from Shoko,” he mutters.
“Oh, that,” Utahime sighs. “It's not like I want to, but this is important for my family, so…”
“So you just agreed to be sold off,” Satoru scoffs. “What a weakling. What’s next, would you be a prostitute if your family asked you to?”
Utahime slaps him. When Gojo blinks, he sees tears on her eyes, threatening to spill.
“You know what, Gojo? You don't know a single thing about me.”
“I’m sorry, Utahime–”
“You've crossed the line,” Utahime whispers. “I don’t want to see your face anymore.”
Satoru rubs his cheek. It doesn't hurt where the hand lands, so why does it hurt everywhere else?
He shrugs then, thinking, never mind, I’ll just find someone to sleep with tonight as Satoru walks away from the corridor that leads to the library. But when he steps outside, feeling the autumn breeze softly poking his skin, he realizes he hasn't been sleeping around for quite a while.
The strongest duo is no more.
The night after Suguru leaves him on the streets of Omoide Yokocho, Satoru feels even more numb than before Utahime starts singing to him. He wants to feel something, anything, and he looks everywhere for it only to end up with nothing. He teleports to places with every special grade curse available, kills them as many as his limitless allows, and he does it all without sleep.
He takes Megumi and Tsumiki in, two children who are neglected by their parents. Satoru takes them under the pretense that he needs an equally strong partner–to which Megumi has the potential to fulfill. The sparks of hope and relief in their eyes on the day Satoru visits to announce all matters are settled, Megumi is off the market! gives Satoru a temporary peace of mind, but he still doesn’t feel anything.
It continues to happen until Satoru graduates. His day goes like this: mission, checking up the kids, mission, training Megumi after he finishes his homework, going on more missions, meeting with the higher-ups. He hates his routine. No, scratch that: he hates any routine.
Then he sees her–a person that occupies the back of his mind, even though he’s not remotely conscious about this: Iori Utahime, now a teacher in Kyoto Tech, is on a visit to Tokyo for the Goodwill Event. She’s sitting in the tatami room.
“Utahime,” he calls her name, testing the waters.
After that day in the library, Utahime graduates. But he still sees her every once in a while, although Utahime has built tall walls and a perpetual scowl reserved only for him.
“Hi, Gojo,” she says, a thin businesslike smile on her face. It’s the expression that tries to tell him I’m sorry for what happened. But she probably knows that it doesn’t really matter anymore because 1) it’s been a few months and 2) he’s okay, he even adopted two kids and they’re doing absolutely fine.
“I haven’t seen you in a while,” he says, moving closer towards her and sits beside her. She doesn’t move away.
“Well, yeah, I’m a full-time teacher and sorcerer now. I’ve been busy,” she says, not quite meeting his eyes.
“Hey, Utahime,” Satoru scoots closer, personal space be damned. “Sing for me?” his voice low. Satoru leans his head on her tiny shoulder, and without saying anything else, she hums a familiar melody.
Satoru closes his eyes, not realizing his own tears leaving dampness on Utahime’s kimono. He feels a soft, dainty hand brushing his snow white hair, and it lulls him to sleep.
“Hey, Gojo, please pick up the call. It’s about Utahime. We’ve been losing contact with her for a few days.”
Satoru teleports the farthest he’s ever been. He’s on a mission overseas, across the ocean–and as a consequence, he arrives in Tokyo Jujutsu Tech with a massive nosebleed. He’ll probably suffer from brain damage if he ever teleports that far away again, strongest sorcerer or not.
The first time Utahime went missing, she was with Mei Mei, and they–it was still the three of them at that time–came together to save her. Everyone returned safely, and it ended with a hearty laugh and inside jokes to jab each other with. But life is rarely kind to him. Once he locates her, Utahime lies unconscious deep inside a remote forest, alone and possibly dying in the hands of two special grade curses.
He wants to know who the fuck is stupid enough to send her alone on a mission this dangerous. He thinks he wants to kill them with his bare hands.
Satoru doesn’t have to go miles–but he does, anyway. He activates his domain expansion and mercilessly annihilates the curses into nothingness in less than five seconds before he goes to Utahime, her face bleeding everywhere, and teleports back to Tokyo with her in his arms.
When Satoru sees her again, she has regained consciousness. A large scar adorns her face permanently. “I’m so relieved now that my arranged marriage is canceled, ” she grins to him. “Well, I couldn’t care less for a family who glorifies scar on men while doing the exact opposite when it comes to women.”
“Are you okay, Utahime?” Satoru asks. There is no sarcasm in his tone–he’s genuinely concerned, but he doesn’t want to pity her. He knows how much she hates it.
“I’m perfectly fine, duh,” she answers, giggling. “It’s not like I want to get married anytime soon anyway. And with this scar, well… I guess it repels men. Good riddance, then,” she shrugs.
“That’s not true,” Satoru says, voice only above a whisper. “You’re still beautiful. I think there’s still someone who wants to be with you no matter how you look.”
Utahime blinks a few times before she bursts out laughing. “Seriously, Gojo? That’s so cringeworthy, you know. Stop being so sappy, that’s so unlike you!”
“I mean it though,” he mutters, avoiding her gaze. “Well, I gotta go, senpai. Please be careful on your next missions.”
Gojo turns around and walk away when she calls his name. “Hey, Gojo?”
He stops, turning his head. “Yeah?”
“Thank you for comforting me,” says Utahime, no walls between them this time. Her perpetual scowl whenever he’s around is replaced with a genuine, sweet smile for the first time in forever. “And for saving my life.”
Satoru turns on his heels, facing her. “I can’t believe this, Utahime. I’ve saved you three times right now. First on the joint mission, then on the day you went missing with Mei Mei, and now this? How are you gonna pay for it, hmm?” Satoru teases her.
“I’ll pay it by being strong so I can support you on the battlefield, Gojo,” she replies. “I’m not saying I can compete against your own strength, but...”
“No, that’s unnecessary. Just take care of yourself, Utahime,” He waves his hand, leaving for real this time.
After all, you’ve saved me multiple times, in many ways only you can.
Ten years.
After ten years of going on this endless mission, Satoru decides to put it on hold.
One day, he thinks. In a life that's less ugly and a little less cruel, in a life where he’s able to breathe a little easier, sleep a bit longer, he’ll say the words he's been aching to say for a while but only realizes recently. But for now, his feelings can wait.
In many events that humbled him over the years, Satoru has left his old life behind. And this is where he relents; realizing that he wants her in more ways than he ever understands. It stays that way for a decade, a secret that everyone knows; everyone, except Utahime herself.
He’ll build a world worthy of coming home to Utahime’s embrace. Worthy of her to live in. He will, one day, put his limitless perpetually on pause, so his hand can intertwine with hers for as long as they want. But he knows how selfish this wish is, with the way he is the strongest and the responsibility he carries.
So in the meantime, Satoru will continue to love her through the merciless teasing, calling her weak, annoying her, pushing her buttons, because as twisted as it sounds, he doesn’t want her to fall in love with him when he doesn't deserve it yet.
One day, he will tell her about his feelings. One day, she will be his. It’s a promise.
But for now, Utahime doesn’t have to know.