Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Why are you so chirpy?”

Gojo looked up from his phone as Shoko pulled a chair to sit next to Geto, who had his nose buried on his notes. He didn’t even look away from them when he leaned down to kiss her cheek, but she wasn’t bothered by his inattention. Instead, she stole a pocky from Gojo and ignored his protest with a grin.

“So why are you smiling like an idiot?” she asked twirling the candy between her fingers.

But before Gojo could open his mouth to reply, his friend cut in.

“He’s looking at pictures of Iori-senpai. Again”

Gojo's mouth twitched in irritation at the tone used in the last word and rolled his eyes sarcastically. “Dunno why you keep trying to study, Suguru. You’re not gonna be able to learn it all at the last minute.”

“You don’t know that.” His friend answered without looking away from his notes.

Shoko hummed and patted his back in consolation. “Even I know that. Give up, you won’t do well on the finals,” she popped the pocky in her mouth, making her words come out slightly muffled. “Much less on the university exam.”

That manages to get Geto to look up, frowning.

“So what, I’m supposed to be your working-class bimbo?”

The girl pinched his cheek with a sardonic smile. “Yes.”

Gojo laughed out loud, and Geto closed his notebook in irritation with a thud.

"You know what, let's badmouth Satoru for looking at Iori-senpai's photos in a creepy way."

“I’m not creepy!” Gojo frowned.

“Having a whole album of her in different angles is creepy, Satoru. I’m surprised no one has arrested you.”

“For your information, you can’t arrest someone for that.” Gojo quickly glanced at Shoko to confirm it, but she only gave him a smirk.

“Evidence that Gojo’s creepy-“

“Hey!”

“Remember that time when you tried to rip her sweater off on her graduation day?”

His frown deepened. “First of all, I did not try to rip off her sweater!” he smiled smugly, crossing his arms. “I tried to rip off the second button of her blazer.” There’s a moment of silence where his friends arched their eyebrows and his smile wavered a little when the stare prolonged uncomfortably. “You know, the button? The one closer to the heart-“

“Yes, we know.” interrupted Geto. “But that only applies to boys, dumbass.”

“You’re the dumbass.”

“And you’re creepy.”

“I’m not creepy!” protested Gojo. “Shoko, control your man.”

But Shoko only laughed and Geto crossed his arms.

“Look, I suppose your little crush was cute when you were kids but now? You’ve to admit it’s a bit creepy. Isn’t Iori-senpai in university right now?”

“Right now she’s in her second semester of her second year.” Seeing the disgusting face Geto made, Gojo quickly added. “I go to her house from time to time for dinner! We‘re childhood friends and we always did that! It’s not something you grow out of.”

“You do.”

“You should.”

“Shoko, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

The girl shrugged as she drummed her fingers on the desk, biting her lips as a sign that she craved a cigarette. Gojo continued arguing with his friend that it wasn’t creepy to also have a gallery of all the works Utahime had done until Shoko’s voice cut through the argument.

“It’s called puppy love.”

Gojo stopped mid-sentence and tilts his head. “Well, who doesn’t love puppies?”

Shoko made an irritated gesture with her hands. “No idiot. It means you had this huge crush on her as a kid, didn’t you? But now it has grown into this obsession-“

He blew a raspberry. “Boring!”

Both of his friends made a face at his rude interruption, but Gojo only stuck out his tongue at them, annoyed. Having an album full of Utahime’s pictures wasn’t creepy or obsessive; he simply loved to look at them because he hadn’t seen her in days. And that had been a common occurrence ever since Utahime got into Geidan.

Gojo knew that when Utahime entered university, the time they spent together would be cut short. He knew it, but didn’t think about it when he became a freshman, and Utahime was a senior who was already looking for options of art universities and the cost of them. He didn’t think about that, and focused on the happiness he felt to be able to see her everyday, to walk home together every afternoon, and to be able to annoy her on lunch breaks at her desk ignoring the obvious stares of her classmates. His first year of high school had been the best year of his life, not only because he made two friends his age, but also because he was able to spend more time with Utahime since she was the manager of the baseball club. Even if coach Yaga nagged him for spending most of his time trying to speak with her-even if he got completely ignored and carried the conversation on his own-, he couldn’t deny Gojo’s talent when it came to play on the field. His baseball swing was always precise, sending the ball in a home run almost every time. Even Utahime couldn’t deny his ability, begrudgingly patting his head after they won a game thanks to him.

But now, the three year gap in their age was evident. He couldn’t meet Utahime as often as he wanted, and when he went to her house to hang out, she was painting or drawing all the time in the little room she called a studio that used to be a storage room. He knew that she had assignments to deliver, but he couldn’t help but to feel alienated from her. Geidan had made that gap in their age so noticeable he couldn’t ignore it anymore, just as he couldn’t ignore the career planning survey he had shoved deep down his bag.

He had filled it. And then erased his answers before he got home that day when he saw that his father’s car was in the garage.

Gojo sometimes envied the fact that Utahime had known her answers in that survey ever since they were children, when the age gap didn’t bother him so much. For him, Utahime was the slightly taller girl that lived around the corner from his house and where his mother had decided to throw up in the bushes just as Utahime’s mother had come out to take out the trash.

Of course seeing an adult woman in a party dress emptying her stomach in their yard while a three year old toddler gripped the shiny hem of the dress had caused Utahime’s mother to panic for a second before regaining her composure and calling for her daughter to help her.

The memory of Utahime poking her head out of the door frame was burnt on his mind forever. His tiny heart had throbbed in his chest with what only could be described as love at first sight. That, and Utahime's mom promising him chocolate chip cookies if he walked into the house while she took care of his mother. Gojo remembered how fast his heart had beaten when Utahime received him with a bright smile, asking for his name while helping to take off his shoes. He still remembered the sweet taste of chocolate and the salty caramel of the cookies Utahime had served him with a glass of milk. And he remembered how his sticky hand was enveloped by Utahime’s when her mother asked her to go upstairs to play when she was finally able to drag his mother inside the kitchen so that she could drink water and sober up.

Utahime’s room had her fate sealed for the future since the first time he walked inside. It was as if an explosion of colors had gone off inside. On every surface of the room were painted and colored pictures of animals, trees and flowers. There was a faint smell of crayons wafting around along with something chalky he couldn’t place. In the midst of his amazement, he was immediately drawn to the small desk of her room, where there was a drawing of a cat with no whiskers. In front of the paper was a set of watercolor paint and a jar with gray water with too many brushes inside. He took one and rubbed it clumsily in the black color so he could draw the missing whiskers. But before the tip of the brush could touch the paper, Utahime had yanked his hand away.

“Careful! You’re gonna cause a big smear!”

Angry that she had stopped him, he had whined and struggled. Her grip was weaker than his mother’s but it was too familiar for his liking.

“I wanna draw the whiskers!” he had screamed at her.

That was his mistake because Utahime screamed back.

“If you do that, you’ll ruin it!”

That was the first time someone had raised their voice at him. Not even his own mother had, preferring to ignore his tantrums until they left him breathless and red. This was different. Gojo stood there, silent and shocked at the girl’s firm stare.

“Look!”

And to prove her point, she guided his hand at the edge to the paper and pressed the tip of the brush on it. Immediately, the dark color flowed out uncontrollably, dripping onto the paper and making the cat a weird calico with orange stripes. Gojo watched in wonder as the black color floated on the water in beautiful dark wisps, and Utahime took the brush from him before he could repeat the same action. That had caused him to whimper, reaching out to the hand that held it far from him.

“Whiskers!”

“No! Say ‘please’.”

“Whiskers!”

“If you don’t say the magic words, then no.”

He had been ready to throw himself on the floor and scream so that Utahime gave him what he wanted, but the girl glared, almost challenging him to do it.

He didn’t.

Gojo had begrudgingly said ‘please’ and Utahime nodded with a satisfied smile.That became his happiest childhood memory, when Utahime guided his hand gently across the paper to make the weird calico cat’s whiskers. It was also the start of him popping up in the Iori household unannounced, eager to spend time with her for as long as he could. Be it morning, afternoon or evening, he wanted to always be by her side. To him, Utahime and her mother-Baba, as he grew up to call her over the years- were more family to him than his own. His mother liked parties. His father liked to be left alone with the business of his company. The same company he would have to lead one day as its heir.

But as Gojo stood in front of Utahime’s house with a huge grin on his face it was the last thought on his mind. After three rapid rings, Baba opened the door and greeted him with a huge smile on her face.

“Hello, Satoru!”

“Good evening, Baba! Is Utahime home?”

“Yes! She’s working in her studio.” Baba moved to the side so that he could enter. “Will you fetch her for dinner? She’s been cupped up there for hours.”

“Of course!”

If he was good at something, it was getting Utahime out of that studio to eat something. Ever since her second year had started, Gojo had noticed how Utahime had lost weight and the bags under her eyes had become more and more prominent. She spent hours drawing, drawing, and drawing, pouring herself into her work. A little too much for his liking.

Gojo knocked the door with a silly rhythm and a grin.

“U-ta-hi-me! Can I come in?”

The answer he got was something blunt thrown at the door.

“Okay, if you don’t come out in five minutes, I’m gonna enter your room!”

“Don’t you dare!” Utahime yelled inside. Judging by the penetrating smell of turpentine, she was using oil paints. She had been doing it for a month.

“Don’t test me!” he smirked and went downstairs to help Baba with the table.

They’re ready to start eating when Utahime entered the kitchen with smears of Prussian Blue on her cheeks and hands. Utahime hated that color because the paint would always stain her clothes even if she was really careful when using it, but Gojo had seen her use it for two weeks straight. He smiled excitedly when she sat next to him and began eating quickly.

“Utahime, wanna play some video games after dinner?”

“Can’t.”

“How about some-“

“Can’t.”

“I didn’t even finish!”

“I’ve to work.”

Gojo pouted at her, noticing how Utahime practically gobbled the food without even tasting it.

“Thank you for the food.” and stood up to wash her dishes.

“What-you didn’t even make conservation with us!”

But Utahime ran upstairs without answering, making him growl annoyed. However, Baba kept eating with a faint smile.

“Satoru-kun, would you like some cake?”

Gojo smiled excited, forgetting his bad humor. “Yes, please!”

She drank a cup of tea while Gojo ate his slice of chocolate with a glimmer in his eyes. Utahime’s mother always made the best desserts, even better than the chef his mother hired every year to make his birthday cake.

“How did you see Utahime?”

Gojo frowned, twisting the fork inside his mouth.

“She has lost weight. And I don’t know about you Baba, but I swear every time I see her, her eye bags are even darker! Seriously, she doesn’t know how to take care of herself and that makes me angry.”

It did. It angered him that Utahime was so focused on her assignment that she often forgot to eat or sleep. And it had only gotten worse these last two months. The time she was given to do her final project for the semester.

Baba laughed at the face he made. “You know, Satoru-kun? If you don’t come to dinner, Utahime doesn’t get out of her studio. That’s why I’m so happy when you come to spend time with that girl. Utahime may appear annoyed every time you visit, but in reality she’s delighted.”

Gojo titled his head making a confused face.

She was?

“Well, she’s terrible at showing it!”

Baba laughed out loud and placed her cup down. “That’s my girl, as stubborn as her father. And you Satoru-kun? How is school?”

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old!”

The woman began to clear the dishes. “Have you decided on your university?”

To that, Gojo tensed and laughed, making Baba arch her eyebrow at him. The subject made him uncomfortable but he wasn’t going to be rude with Utahime’s mom.

“I’m going to get my bachelor's degree in Business Administration. You know, the old man wants an heir for his dumb company!”

The stupid company that he didn't want to run, yet was destined to do. His fate had been decided the day he was born and he didn’t want it. He didn’t want to sit behind a desk, stressed over making money and not spending time with his family. His true calling lay in something else his father would most likely disapprove and forbid him to even think about it. That’s why he didn’t want to show his parents the career survey, which needed one of their signatures in order to be submitted to his teacher Gakuganji. He kept pressuring him to hand it over and Gojo managed to avoid him in the hallways by dragging his friends to another part of the school.

“Satoru-kun, is that what you really want?”

Baba’s voice pulled him out of his thought and at her worried stare, Gojo gave her a crooked smile.

“Of course!”

The woman stared at him in silence before taking his empty dish.

“I knew that Utahime wanted art ever since she was little. But what do you really want?”

It took Gojo a lot of effort to answer that he really wanted his degree in that. Baba frowned at his words but didn’t press him further; she only ruffled his hair with a thin smile. Gojo returned it by curving one corner of his mouth and immediately disappeared as soon as she turned around. It was okay. He could do that. He could lie to himself the rest of his life that saying that he wanted to study something he really didn’t want to do.

It was for the best.

*...*

Yaga screamed at him to focus for the umpteenth time that day, and Gojo was ready to snap at him with ‘Yes, I’m focused!’

He really wasn’t.

Even if he had swing every ball perfectly, they always ended up hitting someone, and Gojo apologized with a wave. But when Nanami was hit square in the back of his head, Yaga pulled him aside and asked him what’s wrong.

“Nothing.” Gojo lied.

Everything was wrong. Utahime wasn’t eating enough. The university exams were closing in and he had to make a decision soon. And Gakuganji was pressuring him for that survey signed by one of his parents, who still thought that he was going to study Business Administration. In that moment, hitting baseballs was the best feeling in the world, so Gojo lied to Yaga that he was fine and wouldn't hit anyone else. But Yaga wasn’t convinced by his promise.

“Go home and clear your head.”

“But-“

“Now!”

Gojo wasn’t dumb and knew he would get anywhere arguing, so he handed over his baseball bat and existed the field with his hands clenched.

He didn’t go home. He went to Utahime’s house.

Gojo had his own key since middle school because he practically lived there, sometimes sleeping on the couch after Utahime and him pulled all-nighter playing video games or watching movies. If she woke up before him, Utahime would tuck him neatly with a sheet. If he woke up first, he would jump on the couch to wake her up as well.

There appeared to be no one inside when he announced his entrance. Gojo took off his shoes and went upstairs to knock on the door of the studio when he saw that Utahime’s bedroom door was open.

“Utahime?” he called, and when he didn’t get an answer, he peeked inside.

It had been a while since he had entered Utahime’s room but the contrast was obvious from the memory of childhood. There were no colorful pictures of animals and trees made with crayons and kid-friendly watercolors. Now, sketches, still lifes, rough landscapes and beautiful watercolor art hung from the walls. Her desk was filled with anatomy books, color manuals, copic markers, paintbrushes, and dried oil paint stains in various shades of blue.

Gojo noticed the sketches scattered across the floor and picked one up. All of them were filled with anatomy practice. Soft hands in various poses. Different perspectives of the head. Noses. Eyes. Hair. All done in great detail with different shades of pencils and textures. He carefully held the sketch in front of him, ready to snap a photo when a voice stopped him.

“What are you doing?”

Utahime was standing at the threshold of her room looking at him with confusion and anger.

“I-“

“Don’t take pictures of them!”

Gojo blinked at her tone. Before, she would proudly present him her drawings with a grin and a blush on her cheeks. Now, she looked upset.

“Why?” he asked, and quickly moved the sketch away before Utahime can take it from his hand.

“Satoru!” she yelled frustrated. “Give it back!”

“No!” Gojo lifted the paper out of reach, waving it with a small smirk. “I’ve to take a photo for my gallery!”

“No! They aren’t good! It’s worthless!” Utahime gasped for air and Gojo saw that her eyes were moist. “It’s stupid!”

She was holding back her tears. Gojo lowered the paper but still kept away from her when Utahime tried to rip it off his hand.

“No, it isn’t.”Gojo looked at the drawings surrounding them as he playfully struggled with her. “They’re beautiful.”

At that, Utahime stopped and a small glint crossed her eyes. However, as soon as it appeared, it was gone and Utahime evaded his gaze.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then tell me, Utahime!”

The girl flinched at his gruff tone and Gojo sighed in exasperation.

“You never speak to me! You never tell me anything when we hang out! Do you know how worried I am for you? You don’t eat! You don’t sleep! So just-” he paused and tugged on her paint-stained overalls, softening his voice. “So just...talk to me. I’ll try to understand.”

For a moment Gojo felt as if they were children again, and didn’t carry the weight of the future of a career. It was something he longed for but he knew he couldn't hold onto it because they had to grow up. The only thing Gojo wanted was to be able to do it with Utahime. To share the same burden, and forget that small gap between them. He wanted to be able to be with her in that process. Utahime looked ashamed for a moment but her hand imitated his action, tugging on his uniform as her voice came out soft and slow.

“I could be better, I...” she breathed in and gazed away from him. “I could be better, but I just can’t improve! I could do better, Satoru! I’m doing what I love, I’m painting and yet...” Utahime looked at her hands, guilt filling her eyes. “I’m not enjoying what I’m doing. I’m supposed to like it! I chose this but I’m not good at it, Satoru! There are people so much better than me in Geidan, and I... I can’t help but to feel jealous! And I feel guilty of that. I shouldn’t feel jealous of them when it’s my ability that needs to be improved but...what if I can’t get better?” She looked at him and a tear slipped down her cheek. “What if I can never be as good as them?”

The silence that followed was filled by the sob that escaped from Utahime, who quickly wiped the trail of the tear from her cheeks.

“Utahime, are you stupid?”

That immediately made her head snap towards him with a flash of familiar anger in her eyes.

“What did you just call me?”

“Stupid.”

“You little-“

“Stupid, stupid, stupid! You’re overworked!”

The girl blinked. “What?”

“You’re overworked, silly! That’s why you’re not enjoying your career!” Gojo took her hand and his thumb rubbed her knuckles. He didn’t remember that last time they had touched like that but the tingling feeling sent shivers down his spine. “For your information, not matter what you draw or paint, I’ll always love it because you made them!”

Utahime blushed furiously. “You...” she growled and sat on her bed, gazing down. “Idiot...”

A light chuckle escaped his lips and Gojo took a seat next to her, his weight causing the mattress to sink. Utahime leaned closer to him and didn’t pull away when their shoulders bumped or when Gojo bopped her cheek to get her attention.

“What happened to you? You changed ever since you started your second year.”

Utahime glanced down and started playing with her fingers. Gojo noticed how they were stained with fresh Prussian Blue, the oil paint marking her friction ridges, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“A teacher said that my work was pointless.”

Gojo gawked. “What?”

“He said that my painting lacked meaning and there was no point in doing it.”

Gojo let out an offended gasp before folding his arms.“Well, your teacher sounds like an asshole!”

Utahime looked scandalized at his choice of words, but Gojo ignored her and pointed to the drawings in the room.

“Look at your work! How detailed it is! How much you love it every time you finish them! And he says there’s no meaning in it?!” Gojo’s frown deepened. “I mean, I know what everyone has their taste in art, but that doesn’t sound like a constructive criticism a teacher should do! A teacher is supposed to help you grow and understand the subject! Not to undermine your work!”

“But he’s-“

“An asshole! So only because he doesn’t like it, you’re gonna think all your work is worthless?!”

Utahime stayed quiet for a moment before shaking her head.

“No.”

“Exactly! And you know what? I bet he’s jealous of this!” Gojo shook the sketch in front of her eyes. “You make such beautiful things, Utahime! Never doubt that!" he took a pause to breath in and out, rubbing his eyes feeling that they stung a little after his outburst. “Look, I know art is hard, but you’ve always worked for your place more than anyone I know. However, I also think that you should have fun every once in a while.”

He stood up and extended his hand at her, ignoring her puzzled expression.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere you can relax!”

*...*

“The arcade?” Utahime glanced at Gojo, mildly irritated. “What are we, children?”

Gojo gave her a sly grin and patted her back so vigorously that Utahime lost her balance for a moment.

“We used to come here all the time, remember? I come here with Suguru and Shoko!”

The girl frowned. “Let me guess. You and Geto play Dance Dance Revolution all the time?

“Pfff, no.” Gojo averted his gaze. “Of course not.”

“So if I go there, I won’t see your names at the top score?”

“Hey look, Skee Ball!” Gojo quickly pushed Utahime towards the colorful machine. “Remember I used to win all the time?”

Utahime’s head turned sharply to see him. “Excuse me? You did not.”

“Oh, I’m certain I won every time,” his lips curved into a cocky grin. “I’m the star player of the baseball team after all.”

“You brat.” Utahime paid for the game and grabbed the ball with a determined glare. “I’ll show you who the star player is.”

Gojo sighed dramatically, his grin becoming huge.

“Fine...but if I win, you’ll have to give me your tickets.” The face Utahime made caused his eyes to glint with mischief as he titled his head. “What’s it, Utahime? Are you afraid you will lose to me?”

Utahime growled at him. “I won’t lose to you!”

Easily two hours later Gojo was carrying a bunch of tickets to the center location with a huge grin while Utahime kicked the side of the Skee Ball machine angrily. It was so easy to rile her up. He held the prize he got behind him until he spotted her again sitting at a table drinking what appeared to be iced coffee.

Ew.

Gojo skipped over to her side with a grin. “U-ta-hi-me!” he called and pulled out the prize, almost shoving it in her face. “Look, it’s you!”

Utahime arched her eyebrow and sipped her drink. “A bunny?”

He nodded excitedly. “Look at its big floppy ears. And now look at your pigtails.”

Utahime rolled her eyes. “You’re unbearable.”

“Really? Then, if I’m sooo unbearable, why is there a parfait here?”

She doesn’t answer, too busy looking at her phone and sipping her drink. Gojo giggled and put the stuffed animal in the chair between them before beginning to gobble up the dessert. He’s too focused on eating that the sound of a photo being taken almost slips past him. He looked up at Utahime.

“Did you just take a photo of me?”

Her face was red and quickly looked down at her phone. “No.”

“You did!”

“No!”

“You did, you did!” A laugh escaped his lips. “Utahime, you pervert!”

If it was possible, her face tinted a redder shade. “It’s a reference!”

“For what?”

“Something!”

“Tell me!”

“A reference!”

“For your final project?”

Seeing the way her expression changed, he was right on the money.

“If I win in the baseball simu-“

Utahime interrupted him. “No. I’ve seen you play, Satoru. I-“

“What?” Gojo moved the stuffed animal and placed it on his lap as he sat closer to Utahime so he could hear her better. “You’ve seen me play?”

He noticed a thin blush on her cheeks as she averted her gaze. “I went to every single game I could ever since I graduated.”

What. The. Hell.

“Why didn’t I see you there?!”

The girl sighed. “After that stunt you pulled on the first game I went to see after I graduated, I couldn’t show my face at the school anymore. So I watched from the sides for a moment.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

Utahime slammed her hand on the table and glared at him in exasperation.

“You literally grabbed me by my armpits and lifted me up in the air like freaking Simba from The Lion King.”

Gojo laughed stupidly at the memory of her screams of indignation while he shook her euphorically because he’d gotten his first win as second-year, and seeing her cheer for it from the bleachers had made him run at full speed towards her to share the excitement. He took the bunny’s paw and pressed it against Utahime's cheek.

"Bunny Utahime says to tell me what you want my photo for."

"No."

“Come on!"

"No."

Gojo frowned and pouted. “Jeez, Geidan has made you bitter."

That got her to look at him again, and Gojo smirked as he got her attention back. However, Utahime's gaze was serious.

“Satoru, have you decided on a career?”

The corner of his mouth twitched.

Why was everyone asking him that?

What was the rush?

Somehow he manages to keep smiling even if all he wanted was to scowl, and his voice came out a little too enthusiastically.

“Of course I’ve Utahime! I’m going to study Business Administration.”

He laughed but in the end it came out broken and weird. Damn. Of all the people in the world, he didn't want Utahime to see him without a smile. He had taken her out of her studio to have fun and relax, not making her worry about his personal problems. Gojo didn't want to trouble her. It was only a career, a choice that would define the rest of his life and future. He could live doing his father’s work. Gojo flinched at the sudden, but familiar sensation of her hand touching his, and when he looked up, Utahime's amber eyes stared at him seriously.

“Satoru, are you sure you want that?”

Ah.

Gojo's smile broke.

“No. I don’t.”

Her hands wrapped around his, and Gojo felt like he was three years old again and Utahime was holding his hand to guide him up to her room to play.

“So what do you want?” she asked quietly, her fingers rubbing his knuckles.

He took a breath.

“I want to be a teacher.”

The only ones who knew about it were Geto and Shoko. They’d encourage him to do it, and Gojo felt glad that his best friend was also pursuing that career even if studying wasn’t his forte. His eyes glinted as he kept talking.

“I like teaching. I like teaching others what they don’t know or don’t understand, and walk them through the problem. I want to make learning fun, I want to help my students, I....” Gojo chuckled lightly. “I just like it. For me, teaching is like your painting. I love it.”

Utahime gave him a understanding smile. “And the problem is your parents.”

“Bingo.”

The last and greatest obstacle he had to face. Utahime began to massage the palm of his hand with her fingers, slowly opening it.

“I know your father wants you to inherit his business but I want you to remember that his life doesn’t have to be yours, Satoru. It’s your career and it’s your decision.”

“But what if-“

“And you know…” she interrupted him. “My house has an extra room.”

Gojo fell silent and Utahime continued to massage his hand absently. Although the tips of her ears were red, Gojo didn’t point it out and concentrated on the feeling of Utahime's fingers on his skin. They’re small and thin, and they stopped at the calluses on his hand caused by holding the baseball bat for so many years. He doesn’t know how long they stayed like that but he feels how the anxiety that had settled in for weeks in his stomach slowly subsided until all that was left were him and her surrounded by the joyful noises of the arcade. When Utahime calls his name softly, Gojo blinked to get out of the comfortable haze.

“Yeah?”

“I need your help with something.”

*...*

“Ok, this is ridiculous.”

“You said you’d help without complaining.”

“Yeah, I said that. But a towel covering my face?”

Gojo heard Utahime shuffle through some stuff before taking his hands and guiding him through the studio. She chuckled when he emitted a small distressed sound at the uncertainty of his steps.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be okay. Look, here’s the footstool.”

Gojo felt the edges of the footstool before sitting on it and taking off the towel. He blinked to get used to the light and the explosion of colors. It was like going back to Utahime's childhood room for the first time and that made him smile widely. The walls were covered with paintings and drawings, and the desk was bursting with painting materials. In front of him was a large canvas. Utahime was putting on her overalls and grabbed a paint palette covered in dried blue oil paint in various shades.

He grinned at her. “So I’m not allowed to look at your masterpiece yet?”

The girl scoffed, a light blush on her cheeks. “It’s not a masterpiece, just my final project of the semester.”

Gojo hummed smiling as he tilted his head to get a better look at her. He had always loved the way Utahime looked when she was concentrated. It was both fascinating and scary.

“Satoru.”

He reacted. “What?”

“I was talking to you.”

Oh.

His confused face must have answered that he wasn’t paying attention and Utahime clicked her tongue annoyed.

“I was telling you that it wasn’t as fun as I thought. Studying art.”

Gojo blinked. “Wait, what? Really?”

“But don’t get me wrong,” Utahime smiled as she ran the brush across the canvas. “Making art is fun. But it’s also suffering. Is doubting yourself. Is questioning yourself. It’s enjoying the process of doing it. Is being happy even if only one person acknowledges it. Is feeling sad if you didn’t get the praise you wanted for your effort. It’s loving every moment you put into it, even if the only one that fully appreciates it it’s you.” She finished the stroke on the canvas and sighed. “You were right.”

“What?”

“Don’t make me repeat it.”

Gojo’s mouth became a huge grin. “No, please do. You never told me that!”

“No, once is enough.” Utahime dipped the brush in the jar with turpentine and dabbed it in a cloth. “I’d overworked myself chasing the approval of that teacher. I thought that if I kept going like that, then my effort would be recognized. That my painting would get a meaning like he had said.” Gojo saw how her eyes got lost for a moment in the memories. “I think that’s when I lost the joy of painting.”

“Hey-“

“But now I see that’s not it. As long as my paintings have a meaning for me that is enough.” Utahime smiled as she applied the painting in quick strokes. “Yes, now...now I’m liking how it looks.” She poked her head around the side of the canvas. “I won’t overwork myself again.”

Gojo eyed her suspiciously. “And if you do?”

Utahime smiled at him.

“Then you’ll take me to the arcade, right?”

He laughed out loud and gave an excited grin. ”I will.”

They were both silent as Utahime moved her brush on the canvas and Gojo followed her movements closely. Apparently she was painting an ocean considering the variety of blues in her palette.

“So what’s the theme of your final project?” he asked.

Utahime kept painting as she answered. “I’m not telling you.”

“Oh, come on! I can see you’re using a lot of blue! It’s an ocean? A sky? An ocean reflecting a sky? That’s why you needed to see my eyes as a reference? Utahime!”

She shushed him curtly. “I’m focused.”

Gojo pouted before tilting his head to the side with an innocent face. “You look pretty when you’re focused.”

Utahime only rolled her eyes in exasperation.

For the next weeks Gojo covered his face with a towel before sitting on that footstool after dinner and watched Utahime paint as they talked. They talked about Geidan. They talked about his options for university. They talked about how Gojo would break the news that he was going to study to be a teacher. They talked about his red cheek the day after he had talked to his parents. They talked about how horrible the university exams had been for Geto. They talked about his results and what it was like to be among the first places.

And the day Utahime let the paint dry, they went to his last baseball game together, where Gojo grabbed her by the armpits and lifted her excitedly into the crowd of his teammates after winning the game despite her screams of embarrassment.

*...*

The morning of his graduation, Gojo knocked incessantly on Utahime's bedroom door until she opened with a frown.

“I’m here to give you this.” and extended his hand towards her. The inside her room smelled intensely of lavender and it was obvious she was in the middle of doing her hair considering how only a pigtail was done and the rest of her hair was loose on her back.

“Couldn’t you wait later?”

“No. It’s something special.”

Utahime raised her eyebrow but accepted what Gojo placed in the palm of her hand.

“A button?”

Gojo smiled. “My second button.”

However, she made a confused face. “Why would I want this?”

“Oh, come on! You know what it means!”

Utahime knew by the way her mouth twisted slightly into a smile. "Of course not. I-“she snickered at his frustrated face. “I’ve no idea.”

Gojo grunted and closed Utahime's hand around the object. “It’s a lucky charm for your big day at Geidan. And this too.” Gojo loved the way her eyes opened slightly at the object in his hand. “Turn around.”

"What? No,” Utahime took a step backwards. “You're going to do something to me.”

“Exactly. Turn around."

"Not after those words!"

"Just do it!”

After arguing back and forth, Utahime did as told and Gojo undid her pigtail.

"Hey!"

"Trust me." He slid his fingers through her dark violet hair to comb it, feeling it a little damp at the root. Gojo quickly made a half updo before wrapping the white ribbon around it. He turned her around and smiled, satisfied with his work. “You look beautiful.”

She looked more mature and Gojo's chest filled with joy at the blush on her cheeks as Utahime cracked a small smile.

“Thank you, Satoru.” She cleared her throat and glanced to the side. “The exposition will end at four in the afternoon so I assume you’ll be able to come.”

“As your boyfriend?”

“Only family and friends are allowed.”

“Cool, cool, cool, but I’m going as your boyfriend, right? Right?”

Utahime sighed exasperatedly and pushed him toward the door of her house. “I’ll see you there.”

“Can’t wait to-“

But Utahime shut the door on his face.

Gojo’s good mood wasn’t altered by the girls on the school tugging on his uniform and asking who he had given his second button to with tears in their eyes. He wasn’t altered by the fact that he was leaving the baseball club and his precious kouhais and Yaga behind. He hugged them until their bones cracked and laughed out loud at Nanami’s grumpy face. He wasn’t altered by the fact that he and Geto wouldn’t be able see Shoko as often as before because she was leaving for med school and both of them were going to become teachers at the same university. He wasn’t scared anymore of the new path that now laid in front of him because that was the path he chose, and with its highs and downs, he would enjoy it.

He felt joyful. And he couldn’t wait for everything to be over so that he could go to Geidan- to Utahime-, and finally see the canvas she had so zealously kept from him.

Geto and Shoko go with him, but get in the gallery as they decided to look at the other pieces from the beginning like a normal person. Gojo ignored everything else and sprinted down the hallway where he could see Utahime’s ribbon, ignoring the lingering looks on his person and the word ‘model’ whispered a few times before plowing into Utahime’s back as he wrapped his arms around her waist in a big hug.

“Utahime!” he sing-songed moving her around easily in his arms, ignoring her protests. “Where’s your-“

Gojo looked up and stood still with Utahime hanging in his arms. His first impression was that he was seeing the most beautiful sky in his life and that it what was strangely familiar. It was the blue that he saw every day in the mirror. It was his blue, and those were his eyes, and that was his face with a soft smile, his hands painted in so much detail that they looked real as they gazed at a vanishing point outside of the canvas.

It was him.

Utahime had painted him.

Gojo didn’t know how much time he stood there looking at the painting-at himself- as people passed by. Some looked at the painting and then at him realizing that they were the same person. At some point he had lowered Utahime down but didn’t let go; he held her close to him.

“Utahime, sell me this painting.”

She laughed pushing his face away from her. “It’s not for sale, silly. It’s just my final project.”

“I want to buy it. No matter the cost, I’ll work the rest of my life if that means I can watch you do what makes you smile every day.”

Utahime was able to pull away from his chest, but didn’t let go his hand. She smiled looking at the painting. “You can take me to dinner tonight. I’m craving sushi.”

“Done.”

“And beer. But you can’t have any.”

He scoffed. “Ew. I don't even know why you like that disgusting stuff.”

“I just like it and I want that." Utahime entwined their fingers. "And want you to become a great teacher that nurtures their students.”

Gojo nodded rubbing his thumb with hers. “I will.” He stared at the painting with a grin. “I love it. But you know the real thing is much better right?”

“Don’t ruin this, Satoru.”

“Awwww, I know you love me!” he rested his head on top of her, making Utahime lose her balance for a moment. “So will you finally tell me the theme for the final project was? I saw someone painted money.”

“That’s Mei Mei’s.”

“So that was the theme? I know I appear loaded with money but-“

Utahime placed her finger in his lips, effectively shushing him. She smiled after a moment of silence and cupped his cheeks with both hands.

“The theme to paint was ‘Our Happiness’.”