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When Utahime woke up to a text from Shoko asking to meet her at the Tokyo school campus, she wasn’t sure what to expect, seeing as how they hadn’t planned on hanging out until next weekend. However, upon her arrival a few hours later, a strangely familiar white-haired boy hiding behind Shoko and clutching the back of her lab coat was not one of them.
“Who’s that?” Utahime demanded, a little blunter than she would’ve liked. The kid ducked further behind Shoko, and she winced apologetically.
Shoko, for her part, didn’t seem to care, not as she let out a beleaguered sigh and declared, “This would be the strongest sorcerer of our time.”
At first, Utahime could only stare, not quite sure what she was hearing. Then, after a moment of silence, the boy peered out from behind Shoko’s back to gaze back at her, and the first thing Utahime noticed was his bright blue eyes – very familiar eyes, now that she was paying attention. White hair, blue eyes… But no. Gojo didn’t have any kids, contrary to what a few women had tried to pass off in the past. He didn’t…
“Wait.” Utahime blinked. “He’s the strongest sorcerer of our time?”
“Yup.”
Utahime furrowed her brow. “He…”
Shoko tugged her lab coat out of the boy’s tight grasp. “Yup.”
“ What ? That’s Gojo ?”
“He was hit with a curse technique.” Yaga stepped into the office, his normally stony demeanor undercut by a very exasperated expression on his face. Immediately, the kid went back to hiding behind Shoko as if she might protect him from the much larger man.
Utahime gawked at her old teacher. “How? It’s not possible. Infinity–”
“He lowered it,” Yaga cut in. He’d peeled his trademark glasses to wipe them off, eyeing the young boy like a parent might their child, then put them back on. “Showing off, as usual. It doesn’t really matter. He was hit by the attack. He managed to counteract it just enough to stop it from entirely working, but…” He gestured to the child, a precocious young prodigy. “Here we are.”
“Oh.” Utahime twisted her lips. “What am I doing here then?”
“The curse needs to be exorcised for the effects to be reversed,” Yaga explained. “Obviously, no one can know about this, especially the higher-ups. If anyone was to find out that Gojo Satoru was reduced to a child…”
It would be dangerous. She couldn’t imagine the power vacuum that would happen. Chaos would ensue. The higher-ups might seek to take control of him. Someone in the Gojo clan might try to supplant him. Who knew what the Zen’in and Kamo clans might do? Not to mention any Special Grade curses or curse users that held themselves back only due to Gojo’s existence. If enemies were to find out that he’d been de-aged to a much more vulnerable position, the world would dissolve into madness. He had to be hidden, protected, taken care of.
“You need a babysitter,” Utahime surmised.
Shoko nodded. “Bingo.”
“Why me?” Utahime questioned. “I’m too close to the higher-ups. If Gankuganji were to catch wind–”
“We trust you,” Yaga interrupted. “ He trusts you.”
“I need to do research,” Shoko added. “Plus, you’re better with kids than me.”
“Fine, fine.” Utahime struggled not to let out a frustrated huff. It didn’t matter in the end. They had called her here because they needed her help – because Gojo needed her help – and she would give it. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed out her expression, putting on a warm smile, and crouched down to the child’s level, making herself look smaller. “Hi there, I’m Utahime. What’s your name?”
The boy hesitated for a moment, but then, after a push from Shoko, he stepped forward. “Satoru.”
“How old are you, Satoru?”
He held up two fingers, so little that Utahime’s heart swelled. Satoru was an absurdly cute child. The members of his clan must’ve fawned all over him when he was this age. No wonder he’d grown up to be the spoiled brat she recalled from their high school years. Nonetheless, it was hard to fault him for it now, even though she’d dealt with his obnoxious adult version just seven hours prior.
After all, they were dating, even if they’d done their best to keep the relationship under wraps. Considering she was the first person Yaga and Shoko had thought to call, perhaps they’d not done a good job hiding it.
“I’m going to take care of you while Miss Shoko and Mr. Yaga work, okay?” Utahime said, her voice delicate. He nodded slowly. She might’ve put a bit of her cursed energy into it as she spoke, lilting her words in a slightly more musical manner. His small body relaxed as he stared back at her. This young, Satoru wouldn’t have nearly as much control over his techniques, and so Infinity did nothing to shield him from her own. “Are you hungry?”
Satoru nodded again. “Uh-huh.”
“What do you want to eat?”
He gave it no time to think over, excitedly exclaiming, “Ice cream!”
Utahime struggled not to roll her eyes. Of course Satoru wanted to eat something sweet. That had never changed. Instead of trying to argue with him, however, she simply nodded and held out a hand. After eyeing her for a moment, he took her hand. Smiling at him warmly, Utahime stood upright, shooting a sharp look at Yaga and Shoko that Satoru couldn’t see, and then walked out of the morgue with Satoru.
This was certainly going to be an interesting day.
*
Truth be told, things went far better than expected. Aside from a slight hiccup when Satoru threw a fit at the shop when they didn’t have the exact flavor of ice cream he wanted, he’d been easy to handle. His cursed energy had flared wildly, a section of snacks exploding, but after managing to calm him down with her cursed technique once more, she had convinced him to choose a different flavor while cleaning up the mess. It was a little embarrassing, but she shuffled him out of the shop with only minimal apologies to the cashier.
Satoru only got about halfway through his ice cream when he decided that walking was a bore, so he stopped and reached out to her. His eyes were so bright and full of need that Utahime couldn’t say no and so she bent down to pick him up and carried him for as long as she could.
He was so small .
Seeing how it was too dangerous to keep him out in public for long, they returned to Jujutsu High. Gojo had a spot on campus that served as his apartment, though it was a stretch to call it that. He could’ve easily afforded some fancy penthouse in the city, but no, he preferred to stay at the school, closer to his students. Ridiculous as he was, Gojo valued his students and was a solid teacher. He looked out after them, and now it was her turn to look out for him.
At two, Satoru couldn’t exactly do much on his own. For a brief, terrifying moment, Utahime had suddenly realized he might not even be potty-trained at this age, but he had shooed her out of the bathroom, insistent he could do it himself, a small miracle for a prodigy child. She’d had to help him with his pants, the outfit haphazardly put together on the fly, and then he demanded to be carried back to the main room. Not knowing what else to do, she sat him down on the futon and turned on the television, picking a cartoon at random to watch.
However, when she moved to leave, Satoru clutched the sleeve of her kosode. “No go.”
Utahime frowned. “Satoru, I have to–”
“Stay!” Satoru’s bottom lip wobbled threateningly, his eyes big once again, so she sighed and sat down on the futon. The threat of crying was gone, replaced by a big smile, and he snuggled with her. Utahime did roll her eyes this time. Big baby. Some things really hadn’t changed. He was still clingy in private. Without Infinity to keep him away from the rest of the world, he invaded her space, pressed up against her side, but it was hard to be mad at him when he was so damn cute.
It was also hard for her to remember that this was technically Gojo. This little and young, it was easy to forget, seeing him as a random child. Every time she tried to get up, he would cling to her. It wouldn’t have taken much for her to pry him off, but every time he flashed her those blue eyes, she caved. He was sweet, endearingly so, content to sit against her and watch cartoons. She played with his hair, running her fingers through the soft tendrils, and hummed under her breath.
After a while, she could tell he was getting sleepy, his eyelids drooping and then snapping open. Utahime bit her lip, still humming. She might’ve been using her technique on purpose, lulling the little boy to sleep so she could actually get things done. When he slumped against her, his hand relaxed on her leg, she let out a breath. With some careful maneuvering, she managed to lay him down on the futon and pulled a blanket over him. The mere image was enough to fill her heart. He was so cute, his white hair mused, his little lips parted slightly as he breathed, one small hand clutching the blanket like a stuffie.
Gojo unfortunately made a very cute kid, the thought awakening something in Utahime that she’d done her best to suppress over the past few years.
Stepping out of the room, Utahime busied herself with some light cleaning. Gojo had a bad habit of not picking up after himself, not seeing much of a point in it. She gathered discarded clothes, made his bed, and set dishes aside to be cleaned. She was too hesitant to leave Satoru entirely alone, so she focused on what she could do here. After checking in with Shoko and Yaga – and dodging a text from Gakuganji – she sat down in the bedroom, wiping tiredly at her face. Hopefully, they could resolve this quickly, because she didn’t know how long–
“Utaaaaa! Uta !”
At the sound of a child’s wails, Utahime jumped to her feet and rushed out of the room, only to find Satoru sitting on the couch, blanket tossed to the side. He was rubbing at his eyes, lips trembling. She hurried over to him, crouching down before him once more. “It’s okay. I’m here. I didn’t leave you.”
Satoru lowered his hands, peering at her with red-rimmed eyes, and her heart sank into her stomach. He must’ve woken up and gotten scared when he realized he was alone. She was caught off guard when he threw his arms around her neck, but she was quick to wrap her arms around him and hold him close, letting him bury his face in the crook of her neck. Instead of calming down though, he continued to sniffle and whimper, his body shaking.
She could sense his cursed energy rattling inside him, threatening to slip out. Controlling one’s cursed energy was difficult enough for most children, but for a boy like Gojo Satoru? It would have felt like holding back a dam. Something must have upset him to rile him up this much. She didn’t know what, but she needed to figure it out quickly before he had another explosive fit.
“Did you have a bad dream?” Utahime asked.
Satoru shook his head, rubbing his wet eyes and nose against the shoulder of her kosode.
“Was it because I left the room?” she pressed. He shook his head again and whimpered, a surge of cursed energy sweeping over her so strongly that she struggled not to shudder. “You have to tell me something or I can’t help you. What’s wrong?”
“Hurt,” Satoru whined, his voice muffled.
Utahime frowned. “What hurts?”
“Hurts!” Satoru burst, squeezing her as tightly as his little arms could allow. It was his cursed energy though that forced Utahime to her knees. The sensation was oppressive, stealing the breath from her lungs. She’d felt the strength of his cursed energy before but never like this. It was a wild thing, swirling around him like a storm. He couldn’t control it, as if the lid was unscrewed and his cursed energy was seeping out of him.
Forcing herself to take a deep breath, Utahime considered the possibilities. He was hurting. What would be hurting him? His cursed energy? Limitless? Six Eyes? His techniques took an exhausting and mental toll on his body and mind that he normally fixed with Reverse Curse Technique, but he hadn’t unlocked that ability until he was sixteen during his battle against Fushiguro Toji. Without RCT, he was probably suffering from the backlashes of his other innate techniques that he didn’t have a grasp on.
“Okay, it’s going to be okay,” Utahime murmured, petting the back of his head soothingly. “It’s just your cursed energy. It's like a super power. You’ve got lots because you’re so strong, but it can hurt too. You’re okay.”
Holding him in her arms, Utahime managed to get to her feet and took him to the bedroom, turning the light off as well. She didn’t let go of him as she closed the curtains to plunge the room into darkness, keeping his face tucked against her shoulder. After shutting the door, she moved over to the bed, laying him down on it. Satoru whined at the loss of contact, reaching out for her with grabby hands, but she didn’t take long to return to him, sitting down and pulling him into her lap.
Laying a hand over his eyes to shield them completely, Utahime said, “You need to calm down. I know it’s hard, but getting upset and crying is only going to make it hurt worse.” He took a sniffling big breath, his chest shaking with the effort as he choked on a sob. “Do you want me to sing? It's how I use my super power.”
Satoru nodded and muttered, “Uh-huh.”
Utahime smiled gently. “I can do that.”
Unlike the time on the couch, this time, Utahime sang in truth. She had only used her curse technique on Gojo a handful of times, always at his request when he was at his most vulnerable and desperate. Even the strongest needed comfort at times, and Gojo’s mind and cursed energy were sometimes too worked up for him to actually relax. She picked a lullaby from her youth, one her mother used to sing to her when she was little, and then another and another. He was still holding onto his cursed energy, struggling to let it go, so Utahime didn’t stop until the smothering sensation began to fade from the air.
Once Satoru was breathing lightly, Utahime stopped singing and gazed down at him. “Feel better?”
“Pretty voice,” Satoru mumbled groggily.
Utahime chuckled. “Thank you.”
Satoru squirmed in her lap, turning around so he could press his face against her middle. “No go.”
“Don’t worry.” Utahime rubbed a soothing palm up and down his back. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
*
While Utahime had told Satoru the truth – she wouldn’t leave him, not ever – it turned out that he was the one to leave her.
After a day of watching over him, the little boy clinging to her and refusing to part from her save to let her use the restroom, the curse that had reverted Gojo to the age of a toddler was found. She’d been in the middle of playing cars with him on the floor of his room when she got the call, strangely hesitant and even regretful as she hung up the phone. He was a little confused when she took him back to Shoko’s office, but he didn’t fight her on it, even if he demanded to be carried again.
Setting him down, Utahime took a step back, biting her lip when Satoru frowned at her petulantly. Shoko sent her out of the room, not sure what would happen, and closed the door. Then, with Yaga on the other end of a speaker phone call, the curse was exorcised. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen, only silence on the other end, but right before Utahime could burst into the room to check on Satoru, there was a strange gushing sound and she was smacked with a gust of cursed energy strong enough to knock her against the wall.
“Ah, not that I mind, but why the hell am I naked in your office, Shoko? You’re not trying to experiment on me, are you?”
Shoko let out a sigh. “I’ll have to wait until you’re dead to dissect you.”
At the sound of Gojo’s voice – his very much mature, adult voice – Utahime’s stomach did a strange twist. She had been expecting the childish, innocent voice of Satoru, but no, he was back to his normal self. As his cursed energy slowly subsided, Utahime burst into the office, her eyes locked on Gojo as he pulled on a pair of pants. He blinked at her in surprise, no blindfold or sunglasses to hide his gaze just yet.
“Utahime?”
Her lips wobbled. “You’re back.”
Gojo tugged his pants on the rest of the way, buttoning them up. “Uh, yeah, I guess I am.”
Sitting down behind her desk, Shoko leaned back in her chair. “You were much cuter as a kid.”
“Hey,” Gojo pouted, “I’m cute as an adult too.”
“I don’t know,” Shoko drawled. “What do you think, Utahime? After all, you got to play mommy with him.”
Gojo whipped his head around to gawk at Utahime, his eyes lit up with a strange glimmer that she couldn’t place. “You what?”
Pressing her lips together into a thin line, Utahime folded her arms across her chest. “I was just helping out.”
Unable to meet his eyes directly, she looked away from him, determinedly staring at a spot on the wall. His eyes looked just like Satoru’s – because of course they were, they were the same eyes – but the boyish, sweet, innocent little boy was gone. She loved Gojo, she did, and she was glad that he was back to normal, but for one strange day, she’d finally…
Well. She’d gotten a taste of what she craved deep in her soul, something she refused to acknowledge.
While she and Gojo were together and they were both teachers, they’d never talked about having children of their own. It was something neither one of them brought up. Sure, as the head of his clan, Gojo was expected to pop out on heir eventually, if not get married, but he didn’t seem interested in it. Utahime herself used to daydream about having kids, but after the incident that left her face scarred, it didn’t cross her mind as much, and so she never brought the topic up to him, almost afraid that it would turn him away from her.
It was stupid and embarrassing, but for one day, she’d got to play out what it might be like to be a mother, but now that Gojo was back to normal, the daydream was over and cold reality set in.
As if sensing her struggle, Gojo grinned. “Aw, did you enjoy babying me that much?”
“Shut up,” Utahime seethed, irritated that he might see it as a joke.
Gojo picked up a black t-shirt and pulled it over his head, blessedly covering up those muscles that had distracted her more than once. “No need to be sad about it, Uta.” She glowered at him out of the corners of her eyes, watching him warily as he made his way toward her. Brushing her hair over her shoulder, he ran his fingertips along the nape of her neck, still grinning down at her playfully. “If you wanna be a mommy so bad, we can just have one of our own.”
Utahime smacked him on the chest, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Stop being weird!”
Unfortunately for her, the idiot just laughed. “You liked it, didn’t you? Having a little mini-me following you around, probably asking to be held and fed.” Gojo had managed to wrap a strand of her hair around his finger, tugging on it playfully when she refused to respond to him. “You want that, Uta? Want me to give you a baby?”
She did, something in her heart aching for it, but Utahime was stubborn if nothing else, so even with a film of tears burning her eyes, she slapped his hand away and hissed, “As if you aren’t a child yourself. Stop being ridiculous.”
With Gojo still focused on her intensely, Shoko huffed and got back to her feet. “On that note, I’m leaving. If you two decide to practice baby-making, leave the mess to a minimum.”
Shoko left the room with Utahime sputtering protests and Gojo laughing. The door had barely shut before Gojo wrapped his arms around Utahime, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck. It wasn’t the same as before with Satoru, but… It was similar enough to calm her down. Alone in the office, he still sought out the same physical comfort that he denied himself in public.
Sighing, Utahime sank in his hold and reached up to bury her fingers in his hair. “Idiot. Don’t make jokes like that.”
“I’m not joking,” Gojo insisted, his breath warm against her neck.
Utahime’s heart skipped a beat. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from saying anything and betraying herself even further, but that didn’t stop her from feeling a spark of hope. It was stupid. It had only been a day, just one day with a vision of what she could have, but it had been enough to awaken that dormant desire. If Gojo thought the same way, if he wanted the same thing…
Gods, they were both hopeless and stupid, weren’t they? Some things truly didn’t change.