Chapter Text
Today was the first time Gojo broke your heart.
You sighed, staring up at the ceiling of your shared apartment with Gojo. It was already 11 pm, and he was still out, on a mission and whatnot.
It wasn't the first time he'd stayed out late. This week alone, he'd come back home late four times, hair ruffled messily and clothes ripped and torn apart. He never had any blood on him, which was good, but he always came back panting and sweating, so you always pitied him, coddling and fussing him- and he never stopped you as you took off his clothes from his warm, sleeping body, meticulously sewing them back up again under the dimmest of lights, careful to not wake him up again, as if nothing had happened.
But he never thanked you, either. lt wasn't like you saw him that often lately, anyways. You always awoke, swinging your hand towards the space Gojo occupied the night before, but all you were met with was a cold, empty space.
But you never pestered him about it. You never showed up to work to help him out, because, you justified, he needed time and personal space. And of course, that's fine!
Sighing, you grabbed a half-finished bottle of red wine and started pouring it down your throat. You didn't want to think anymore. It was you and Gojo's anniversary, and he was out again, on a mission. After downing all the remaining wine, you slammed the bottle back down on the table, shattering it.
Seeing the mess on the floor, you sunk your head into the table, uncontrollably sobbing, thoughts flooding into you like tidal waves.
Is he finally falling out of love with me?
I mean, that is to be expected... He's the strongest jujutsu sorcerer out there. Girls and guys are flocking to him from left and right. Why would he choose me?
Is he embarrassed of being with me? I'm can't even conjure a Domain Expansion...
As you tried to stand back up to clean up the mess, you dismissed those stray thoughts by justifying his actions, telling yourself that He's just tired. He's just always on missions. He still loves me. It doesn't mean anything.
I'm sure he's busy now, why else would he ignore me?
But you couldn't help thinking about a stray thought that had slowly, slowly crept into your mind these past few weeks.
Is he cheating on me?
You hadn't been intimate in months, and you knew there were many beautiful men and women that were practically throwing themselves towards him every day.
No matter how hard you tried pushing the thought away, chastising yourself for having so little trust in your lover, it didn't stop the tears from continuing to fall. That didn't stop you from shaking as you made your way towards the kitchen. And that certainly didn't stop you from taking another swig at a bottle of vodka.
As the effects of the alcohol set in, your mind going hazy and your eyes glazing over, you crawled into bed, turning off the lights, silently chastising yourself for even expecting him to come home. Wrapping your hands around a pillow, you drowned yourself in your thoughts, slowly drifting away to sleep.
----
You woke up to an unexpected sound of a dish being broken in the kitchen. Jolting awake, you ran to the source of the sound, just to see Gojo wearing an apron, holding a small spatula. His face wore an expression of pure panic, but as those ocean-blue eyes, behind those sunglasses that were snugly resting on his nose, caught sight of you, his lips curled at the edges, and he gave you a smile that lit up your world so much it could've rivalled the sun.
"I was trying to surprise you with breakfast in bed, baby!"
A sudden headache invaded your head. Ugh, the alcohol, you realised. Wincing, you sat down on the same chair you'd been crying in the night before, placing your head gently onto the table into your arms, mirroring your posture the night before.
Gojo slowly trudged over to you, and crouched down beside you, aiming to make contact with your eyes. "You okay, baby?"
Hearing those words, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his head, sobbing into his platinum blond hair.
Reaching his arm up to your head, he ruffled your hair, gently cooing into your chest, "Hey, hey, it's alright. It's alright. I'm here."
Instantly, you pushed back on his shoulders, shaking your head. "I'm sorry," you managed to stutter. "We've barely talked these few months, and it was our anniversary yesterday, and you didn't show up, so I wasn't feeling the greatest. I. didn't think you loved me anymore."
He titled his head to look at you, taking off his sunglasses to peer into you with his beautiful, ocean-blue orbs. Holding your hands in his, gently rubbing circles into your palms, he sighed, "No. I'm sorry."
Your eyes widened in confusion, but he continued, "I've been swarmed with missions and this new kid just joined our school, and he's this vessel of this..."
Seeing your eyes wander, he trailed off. Coughing a few times to reset the conversation, he stammered, "It's my fault. I should've been here last night. My missions don't excuse the way I've treated you these past few months."
Prying your hands from his, you gently cupped his face, closing your eyes. You felt him nuzzle his face into your hands, and it made you forget every single one of your thoughts from the night before.
Suddenly, he jumped up, walking back towards the kitchen counter, taking his spatula along with him. In a swift motion, he placed the skillet on the table, sighing, "I wanted to plate this nicely, but... well..." Gaze flickering towards the broken dish on the floor, he shrugged. The welcoming and savoury scent coming from the skillet made you salivate. Seeing your eyes closed in bliss, Gojo sat down on the opposite side of the table.
Once your eyes were opened, he picked up a fork and gestured towards the food, suggesting you take the first bite. The skillet was full of an assortment of food- grilled tomatoes, fried eggs, fried potatoes, grilled sausages, tiny pancakes and more. Nodding your head to signal that you were going to dig in, you stabbed a few potatoes onto your fork and bit down. Gojo's a good cook, you realised.
He'd never cooked for you before. He was always taking you out to restaurants, due to him being paid a high salary as a jujutsu sorcerer, and the days you stayed home, either you were the one cooking, or you ordered takeout. As you chewed on the starchy, savoury potatoes, you reminisced on the past few weeks, and how you had missed going out with Gojo, whether it be to a high-end restaurant on the other side of Tokyo, or down the street at the local 7-Eleven.
Your face must've been showing every single one of your emotions without fail, because he reached an arm over to caress your cheek, saying, "I'm sorry I haven't done stuff like this before. I promise. From now on, whenever you want me to, I'll be here for you. I'll cook for you. I'll do whatever you want."
Leaning into his touch, you sighed, "I love you."
He rubbed his thumb on your cheek in two more circles, then brought his other hand to cup your face, simply standing up to kiss your forehead.
----
Today was the second time Gojo broke your heart.
It's been 3 months since Gojo woke you up the day after your anniversary, and since then, all he's done has been showering you with praise, gifts and attention. You never woke up to a cold, empty bed anymore. Waking up, you were always greeted by his warmth, towering over you, even in his peaceful sleeping form.
Your friend asked you to come to stay with her for a while since she was writing her doctorate thesis, and really needed a helping hand, as well as someone to get groceries for her. When you told him, Gojo didn't mind it, telling you that you'd be back in his arms soon enough and that your friend should take priority these few weeks. Plus, he said, he'd call and text you daily, because you were his greatest priority.
And he did. Your friend had a messed up sleep schedule, falling asleep in the afternoon and staying up past midnight to write her thesis, which allowed you an ample amount of time after work to catch up with Gojo. He'd laugh as you tiptoed across the threshold of your friend's bedroom to reach the bathroom, silently cringing at how she'd snore like a pig. He'd sometimes even help out with her thesis, guiding her on good articles she could cite, as well as providing different theories.
This week, though, he'd gone distant again.
As you left the building after work, you texted him "hey, you- i've just now left the building. can i call you later on this evening?".
But he'd never responded.
Sitting on the couch in your friend's apartment, you buried your head in your hands, stifling the sobs that were threatening to sound.
He needs time, you justified. Yes, of course, that's fine. Every human needs time. Plus, this getaway was supposed to be about your friend, not Gojo.
He needs space, you justified. He can't help it if he wants some alone time since you're gone- he could hang out with Nanami, or his students. Why else would he ignore you?
You couldn't help but remember how your ex had done the same thing the last time you left him for a short trip with your classmates. You couldn't help but remember how thoroughly and painfully he ripped your heart into shreds.
But when you arrived back at home, and he practically leapt into your arms, burying his head into the crook of your neck, kissing passionately, you forgot about it totally and completely.
----
Today was the third time Gojo broke your heart.
Gojo came home at the same time, as usual, carrying a small box of daifuku mochi. A present from Nanami, he said. But you knew better. When he brought desserts home, it was usually because he had a horrible day, and wanted to just gorge on food to distract himself from life. He'd never opened up to you about his problems, though, preferring to drown in his own thoughts alone.
As he sat next to you on the couch, you scooted over to him, reaching your arms up to massage his shoulders, but he swatted them off. Pouting in mock annoyance, you tried placing your hands on his shoulders again, but he snarled, huffing an "I said no."
You instantly reeled back. He knew he crossed a line- he never used that tone on you before, a mixture of annoyance, anger and disappointment. But the apology never came. He merely lifted his legs off the ground, onto the couch, and started to mindlessly shuffle through the channels.
You softly excused yourself, but Gojo held onto your wrist, gazing up at you, no doubt staring daggers at you with his eyes, but they were covered by his blindfold.
"Stay with me," he sighed.
"Why?" you growled. "You made it clear that you didn't want me to touch you, why do you want me to stay with you?
He instantly lowered his head, bringing his hands up to run his fingers through his beautiful white locks. "Sorry, babe. I've been going through a bit at the school lately."
Reeling back again, this time out of compassion rather than fear, you stated, "Talk to me about it then."
He shook his head firmly, and something inside you snapped. You hated it when he closed himself off to you. You knew there was a reason, but you'd been together for four years, dammit, and he couldn't even tell you when there was something on his mind?
You must've said that out loud, because he whined, "You wouldn't understand! You never do!"
"Because you never give me a chance to! You never tell me anything- how do you expect me to understand if I don't even know what's happening in the first place?"
Your voice was raised, louder than you've ever raised to him before, but the frustration that has been building up these few years couldn't help but seep out. He opened his mouth to continue to retort, but you continued, softening your voice a few degrees, "Why do you keep so many secrets from me, huh? Every single time I go out with the other teachers from Jujutsu High, I manage to learn something new from you. Do you know how embarrassing it is when Nanami says something about you that I've never heard of, so nonchalantly, like it's something I should've known in the early days of our relationship, and I have to awkwardly laugh, pretending like I know what he meant?"
"Well, I am so sorry that I don't want to talk to you about my past because I don't want to cry my eyes out remembering the crap I've gone through."
"And I've let you do that. But we've been in a relationship for years now. You can tell me these things. I'll cry with you, I'll help you."
Hearing that, Gojo started laughing, almost maniacally.
"Help me?" he chuckled, leaning back in emphasis. "No one can help me."
"Fine," you huffed, dashing into your room.
You slammed the door shut in his face, locking yourself in your room, making sure that he'd sleep alone, on the couch, cold and shut out from you, like you were from his mind.
----
The next day, as you opened the door to see Gojo laying on the floor, in the doorway of your room, his face red and tear-stained, you couldn't help but feel a pang of pity.
He instantly jolted awake, hearing you, and pulled you into his arms in an embrace. As you mumbled apologies into his chest about how you overreacted and how he completely had the right to keep things from you, he simply mumbled an "okay, baby" into your hair and started peppering tiny kisses down your hairline, onto your throat, down your chest and beyond.
----
Today was the last time Gojo broke your heart.
It was his birthday, and you wanted to surprise him. Knowing he had a massive sweet tooth, and a massive superiority complex to match, you bought him a box of cookies, all adorned with his name. As you took the box from the shopkeeper, he chuckled at you, asking, "you really love him, huh?" And you responded with a shy, "yes."
As you approached the school, you were met by Nitta, an Auxillary Manager for Jujutsu High, she introduced herself as, who was more than eager to show you around.
"Gojo never talks about you- I didn't even know he had a partner!" she squealed, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. "Must be because he wants to keep you all to himself- you're such a beauty!"
Bringing you around the school, you met the three students Gojo had been raving about- Megumi, Yuuji and Nobara. And they were exactly how he described them, seeing as you stumbled on Nobara and Yuuji prying Megumi off a girl who was merely asking him for notes and begging him to go and get sushi with them, as well as paying for the sushi.
They were endearing, but you also could tell that they were all very strong sorcerers; their aura was so strong you were intimidated by them, but as Yuuji saw you, waving and giving you the largest smile ever known to mankind, your heart softened. You instantly knew why Gojo used to go full days without coming home- those kids were truly captivating.
As you and Nitta left them after a while of chatting, you could faintly hear Nobara subtly say "I'd tap that", Yuuji agreeing, and you couldn't help but shake your head and smile. Kids these days.
Nitta left you alone as you reached Gojo's office's floor. When you asked her why teachers were given their own private offices, she said it was a luxury reserved for the teachers of Jujutsu High, since they were all renowned sorcerers.
Knowing Gojo, you expected him to be sitting at his desk. Napping, maybe. Maybe even developing a curriculum for his students. So you eagerly turned the doorknob, a wide grin appearing on your face.
But as you opened the door, the sight was not what you expected.
His back was towards you and his trousers were pooled around his knees. In front of him, leaning face-down on his desk, her back connecting with Gojo's chest, was a woman. And she was gorgeous. The two of you looked similar, but she was absolutely perfect. While your whimpers and moans used to be that of an innocent, squealing teenager, hers were that of an experienced woman, filled with lust, yet also laced with a slightly dangerous innocence that you couldn't pin down. While your hair was silky smooth, hers could be described to be cloud-like- even standing in the doorway, you couldn't help but want to run your fingers through her hair. While your body was beautiful, and Gojo never went a week without reminding you how beautiful it truly was, hers was perfect, with the right amount of fat in the right places, and plenty of muscle to match. She was just... absolutely superior to you in every way.
You stood there in horror. You knew you should've turned on your heel and ran. You knew you should've cried. You knew you should've yelled. But you just stood there, hand holding onto the box of cookies you came with, as you watched as he repeatedly rutted his hips, the tears welling up in your eyes but refusing to pour.
You mindlessly watched, your grip on the box becoming tighter and tighter and tighter, until it finally crushed under your pressure, startling you. Gojo and the girl didn't seem to notice, though, enveloped in their own pleasure, so you turned around and ran.
----
Weren't breakups supposed to be messy?
Weren't the two of you supposed to be screaming and yelling at each other? Wasn't there supposed to be begging? Wasn't there supposed to be crying? Wasn't there supposed to be the indescribable pain of the shattering of hearts?
Weren't you losing the love of your life?
But he just stood there, leaning against the kitchen counter, not even a splash of upset evident on his face, as he watched you slowly pack up your belongings.
Stretching your arms to reach the cabinet above him, you expected him to give a reaction. Any reaction. Maybe he'd swat your hand away, shove you towards the wall and cage you inside his arms, leering down at you with a predatory gaze, threatening you not to leave him. Maybe he'd drop down to his knees, crashing his head into your torso, tears staining your shirt, stammering out apologies, begging for your forgiveness. Maybe he'd reach up and help you open the cabinet, out of sympathy, because it was just that bit too much out of reach.
But he didn't. He just stood there, arms crossed, his gaze never once leaving you.
You couldn't take it anymore.
"What is your problem?" you growled.
"Nothing," he sing-songed nonchalantly, waving his fingers.
You weren't a violent person. You'd never hurt anyone. You'd never lashed out at anyone, much less with your fists, but seeing him so calm, so collected, when he broke your trust into little pieces, spitting on your love, stepping on your fidelity, all you wanted to do was to ram your first into his chest, to swipe an open palm at his face, to pin him down and stomp all over him.
You'd given your heart to Gojo. You'd given him everything. You wondered why the hell you let him in, why the hell you let anyone in, after all you'd been through. You told him about your past, your previous relationships. He knew exactly how much you despised cheaters. He knew exactly what fidelity meant to you. He knew exactly what trust meant to you. He'd always made you feel so safe in his arms, he always made you sure your trust could be placed in him.
You hated him. You could just picture them- was he why he was never home those many months ago? Because he was curled up in her bed every night? Because she was the one who got to wake up with a warm bed, seeing gorgeous, ocean-blue eyes staring back down at her, while you had to wake up with an empty bed, seeing wrinkled up blankets staring back at you?
But you didn't show it. You didn't show him the rage and anger that were bubbling on the surface. You didn't show him the tears that were threatening to fall. You weren't going to let him see you fall apart into pieces, the way you were before he found you those years ago, after your last partner ripped up your heart exactly like he did, ripping along with it all your happiness and self-worth. You weren't going to let him destroy you again.
You weren't going to give him a reaction. You weren't going to tell him how much it hurt. You weren't going to let him win. Turning on your heel, you grabbed the mug from the cabinet and left him standing there, arms still crossed.
Finally closing the two suitcases that were packed to the brim with your belongings, you stood up, approaching the door. Again, you expected a reaction. Maybe he'd reach the door as you opened it, slamming it back shut, and start yelling curses at you. Maybe he'd reach the door before you, wrapping his arms around you, sobbing into the crook of your neck, kissing it tenderly, telling you he wouldn't ever do it again. Maybe he'd just utter an "I'm sorry."
Nothing. He didn't move an inch. His eyes just followed you as you turned the doorknob, as you put one foot out into the outside world, as you finally turned around to face him again. Tears welling up inside your eyes, you made your way to close the door, but you heard Gojo utter out three last words before the door shut completely.
"I'm not sorry."
It must be nice to love someone who lets you break them twice.