Archive of Our Own ^beta

God kisses the finite in his love and man the infinite – Stray Birds

At 9pm, Fushiguro received a text from Gojo. Out of the blue, without prior notice, and in an unusually anxious tone, as though he were about to face impending doom, he asked Fushiguro to rush to his apartment in the city.

Though the tone was a little hurried, Gojo made sure to carefully note at the end of the message that it was the apartment on the 24th floor.

After returning from a business trip in the morning and immediately falling into bed and sleeping for three hours, Fushiguro, who hadn’t even started enjoying his half day of break, was silent for a minute upon seeing this message. He spent 50 seconds considering the pros and cons of going or not going – having spent a full month being sent on various missions, Fushiguro found even turning on the spot could really make him think slower. Even a question like this which he could otherwise answer with his knee, he actually wasted his precious brain cells thinking about it, and for a minute no less.

He couldn’t not go, otherwise Gojo would bother him endlessly; even if he went, nothing good would happen, but at least Gojo wouldn’t talk his head off about it. In conclusion, he wouldn’t get anything out of it either way, but he'd get less trouble if he went, so it was better to go after all.

Perhaps it’s because he’d already slept in the morning, but Fushiguro didn’t feel particularly tired, just that after the Shibuya Incident, the New World and his graduation, he had been forced to take missions as high-intensity as Gojo had used to be assigned to. Repeatedly doing something could make anyone annoyed, and even though Fushiguro had a lot of patience, combined with the physical strain on his body, he inevitably became uncommonly tired and frustrated.

Gojo de-stressed by eating sweet food, as simple as it got, and it worked most of the time; Fushiguro would sleep as much as he could, and when he couldn't he would read – just that he would unavoidably always be susceptible to Gojo’s harassment. Even though he was now an adult, he wouldn’t put it past the other to still see him as a child.

Maybe not a child, maybe more like a way to de-stress.

In any case, Fushiguro couldn’t understand why Gojo had yet to grow up. Sometimes he would get very annoyed with him, but maybe because of the long amount of time they’d spent together, without him noticing, it had already become something he was used to. Fushiguro eyed his phone for a minute, and eventually replied with an “Okay”.

Fushiguro had the backup keys to all of Gojo’s residences in Tokyo, because Gojo was the one who had forced them on him. At the beginning Fushiguro didn’t want anything to do with them. They were like hot potatoes, he knew nothing good could come from it, and thus he refused to keep them. However, he didn’t realize that Gojo wasn’t actually giving him a choice, and the day after he’d returned them, they appeared again on his desk, weighing down a note that Gojo had personally written.

“Megumi forgot to ask me for them, so I delivered them personally, no need to thank me~”

Fushiguro had been so angry he’d immediately crushed the note and delivered it into the rubbish bin after three seconds.

Thus, Fushiguro could only change his clothes, grab his phone, keys, and wallet, and leave the dorms. Between directly teleporting to Gojo’s house and taking a taxi from the road closest to Jujutsu High, he still chose the latter.

Gojo wouldn’t die if he had to wait for a bit, and even if he was rushing over, that bastard would reach earliest by 12. Fushiguro thought.

The autumn weather had completely cooled down, and the night breeze was a little piercing. Fushiguro put on an extra layer and took his time leaving Jujutsu High, strolled down the mountain, hailed a taxi and notified the driver of the address. It was already close to 10pm and the city wasn’t that congested, so the taxi proceeded smoothly, the complete opposite of what Fushiguro wanted. The taxi driver drove quickly, wasn’t stopped by many red lights, and soon delivered Fushiguro to near his destination.

Fushiguro paid, left, and looked at his phone. There were no new messages from Gojo. Fushiguro knew he had guessed correctly. He was still suffering a little from time lag today, having only eaten lunch at 2pm and not yet dinner, and once he reached the city, seeing various restaurants around him, he started to feel a little hungry. He promptly decided on one he had some interest in, planning to eat something before heading to Gojo’s apartment.

At 2pm he had eaten a random sandwich, without much filling, heated up using a microwave. But once Fushiguro entered a ramen shop, the rich smell of ramen soup filling up the entire room immediately dragged Fushiguro’s hunger to the surface. Only now did he realize that he actually hadn’t sat down for a proper meal in very long.

“One chashu ramen, with extra chashu and a soft boiled egg, as well as the signature sushi and tako-wasabi.” Fushiguro chose a seat further from the entrance of the shop and placed his order.

The tako-wasabi was pre-made and served immediately upon order. Fushiguro hadn’t even touched his chopsticks when the phone in his pocket started chiming. He took it out, glanced at it, and found that there were new messages in the group chat with himself, Itadori and Kugisaki.

Itadori: [Fushiguro, you’re not in the dorms? Wasn’t today your day off?]

Kugisaki: [No way, a last-minute assignment? How sad.]

Itadori: [Kugisaki, aren’t you on a business trip? You have the time to reply to messages?]

Kugisaki: [What? I’m already done here okay, I’ll be back tomorrow morning.]

Fushiguro typed into the chat: [Gojo-sensei wants me for something.]

Kugisaki: [Wow, isn’t that even worse?]

Itadori: [Fushiguro, rest in peace, we will miss you…]

Fushiguro: [Can you not say it like I’ve already passed away?]

After making noise in the group chat for a good while, the extra-soft boiled egg, extra-chashu chashu ramen was served as well. After he was done slowly eating while looking at his phone, it was already close to 11, and Gojo still hadn’t contacted him, which showed that that bastard hadn’t even returned – he might not even have reached Tokyo.

Thus, Fushiguro finished his late dinner, paid, and originally thought to head directly to Gojo’s house, but as he walked past a cake shop, he automatically walked in and bought the last remaining cake on display, a six-inch strawberry cake that was on sale. He then bought a few bottles of water at a neighboring convenience store, before finally heading towards his actual destination.

Fushiguro had been to Gojo’s apartment a few times, mostly just for the night. Jujutsu High was just too far away from the city, and sometimes when he was suddenly saddled with an assignment, he would often come here without prior notice just to sleep before heading to the mission location.

But to Gojo, this place was rather like an interchange, a last-minute “stage station”.

Fushiguro took the elevator to the 24th floor, and used the keys which Gojo had forced on him to open the door. At the entryway, he changed his shoes for slippers, went into the living room and turned the lights on – as usual, the apartment was lacking any sign of human activity, with very few pieces of furniture and a few boxes in the corner of the living room, inside which were monochrome pieces of clothing, most likely treated like one-use items by a certain someone. The embedded television had never been turned on before, and was covered by a layer of dust. It looked like there was no one to clean it. There were even fewer things in the cupboards. Fushiguro didn’t need to look around to know that in the bedroom, besides the cupboard, bed and desk installed by the apartment itself, there was nothing else.

In simpler terms, Gojo had spent a whole lot of money to buy a permanent high-quality hotel room.

Fushiguro approached the kitchen with an air of trying his luck, and as he opened the fridge that looked like it was for display, he was completely unsurprised to find absolutely nothing inside, and not just that, but the fridge lights were dim. It seemed as though the plug wasn’t even connected to the power supply.

This place was worse than a hotel. At least hotels provided water and beverages.

Fushiguro closed the fridge door, looked around, and indeed found the plug and socket nowhere near each other. He sighed, plugged in the fridge, checked the temperature setting, and resignedly returned to the living room and put the water he’d just bought from the convenience store into the fridge that had only just started working.

Only when he was done with all of this did Fushiguro once again return to the living room, take out his phone and send Gojo a message.

[I’ve reached.]

He didn’t quite think that Gojo was going to hide in the room, waiting to scare him. If he’d wanted to do that, he’d have already appeared before Fushiguro entered the kitchen. Once the message was sent, no reply came from Gojo’s side. Fushiguro had expected it, and put his phone back in his pocket, planning to look around to see if this place had an extra blanket.

No matter what, he thought it incredibly likely that he wouldn’t be able to escape the fate of staying over. Just as Fushiguro was looking around in the cupboard of the bedroom for a blanket, a knocking sound came from the balcony.

Fushiguro jumped. A knocking sound from the balcony of an apartment on the 24th floor… He stopped what he was doing and listened for a bit, but the knocking sound only continued, and became more and more hurried. Fushiguro had no choice but to run to the other bedroom which was on the same side as the balcony. It might have been better not to look, for when he peered to the side from the window, he found that the person knocking was in fact Gojo.

Fushiguro quickly opened the door to the balcony. The cold wind at this height immediately blasted into the room and onto Fushiguro’s face. He looked at Gojo, who was wearing a Jujutsu High uniform, and scowled. “Why are you knocking from here?”

Gojo was still wearing his eye mask, but his expression seemed a little tired, and he seemed not to be doing so well. He lightly let out a “Hah”, grabbed at his hair, and innocently told Fushiguro, “I forgot to take my keys.”

Fushiguro was silent for a while, then said, “So you called me all the way from Jujutsu High, just to get me to help you open the door?”

“Yup.” Gojo seemed to smile a little, not seeing anything wrong with the situation, “Because I didn’t bring my keys. I could just destroy the door and come in, but it's annoying to repair, and if I don’t repair it, it’ll be winter soon, it’ll probably get quite cold sleeping in the open.”

Fushiguro opened his mouth, and then closed it. He didn’t know what to say. He very much wanted to say something in return, his inner thoughts a running commentary, but when the words were at the tip of his tongue, he found he couldn’t even spit out half a word.

Gojo didn’t seem to notice at all, and naturally entered the room and casually closed the door. Before Fushiguro could get his words together, Gojo stepped forward, stretched his hands out and hugged Fushiguro, burying his face in Fushiguro’s shoulders.

When it came to intimate actions like these, Fushiguro was quite used to them. He knew that it was a sign that Gojo was completely mentally exhausted and needed rest. Even if he wasn’t sure why that asshole liked to use him as a bolster. It was at least somewhat understandable when he was younger, he supposed that young kids were nicer to hug, but it seemed as though Fushiguro had spoiled him into making it a habit. Sure, Fushiguro supposed he had some part to play in this, but Gojo seemed to have no boundaries at all. Still, it didn’t harm Fushiguro in any way, and it was a rare moment when Gojo could be quiet, so in some sense, it was Fushiguro’s private pleasure. However, Fushiguro only let Gojo hug him for a little while, before saying, “That’s enough hugging from you, I’ve got to return to Jujutsu High.”

“No~, let me hug you a little more~”, Gojo’s tone had completely changed, taking on a childish note, an almost whiny sound, as he started complaining, “Two full months I’ve been on nonstop business trips, I’m really gonna die, why is it that even after everything’s already done and dusted, there’s only more work to do, not less?”

Fushiguro could probably recite Gojo’s complaints from memory, after all when Gojo started complaining he always said the same thing. He’d already heard all of it before, and chose to only reply to the first part, “If you’re tired then take a bath and go to sleep.”

But Gojo, instead of releasing him, hugged him even tighter, “No, I can’t sleep without Megumi.”

Fushiguro didn’t say anything.

Too close. He could hear his breathing. Fushiguro didn’t move, and felt the warmth of another body, only separated from him by a few layers of fabric, start to raise Fushiguro’s own body temperature. Having already anticipated this result, he sighed, “Gojo-sensei, your place doesn’t even have any spare blankets.”

“Yeah… but I just want to stay beside Megumi, only by Megumi’s side will I relax a little. The higher management really doesn't see me as a person. No matter what, I still need to rest, right?” Gojo simply didn’t pick up what Megumi was saying, “Ah, really, there’s some times where I’m so annoyed I just want to destroy the world, but when I see Megumi then I feel like this world doesn’t need to be destroyed…”

Gojo had started spouting nonsense. Megumi looked up at the ceiling and decided to stay quiet and let him keep going. At least Gojo was only complaining, he didn’t need any responses, and once he was done he would naturally stop.

For once, Gojo didn’t go on for too long. After talking about this and that which he’d encountered recently, Fushiguro detected that Gojo had really gotten quite tired. He felt a twinge of compassion, and for once, stretched out his arms and carefully held him back. In the next moment, he heard Gojo say, “Megumi, stay here tonight.”

Fushiguro sighed. He had lost track of how many times he had already sighed because of Gojo today. He repeated what Gojo had completely ignored: “There aren't any spare blankets.”

“Then let's sleep in the same bed, didn't we do that a lot when you were younger?” If Gojo claimed he was the second most shameless person in the world, no one would dare to claim they were the first. Then, “Let’s sleep in the same bed, hm? Pay attention to the poor Gojo Satoru, won't you? There are new toiletries and brand new clothes, and the bed is huge, so there’s no problem, right?”

“... Alright.” It’s true that there's no problem, Fushiguro thought as he agreed, “But you’re done hugging me now, right? Let me use your toilet for a bit, there's strawberry shortcake on the living room table, I got it from downstairs. And there's water I put in the fridge.”

Fushiguro found the toiletries that Gojo put here. What made him speechless was the discovery that they were all, without exception, single-use items. Although he'd stayed over a few times, he’d always just sleep and then leave, so he had never explored this place in any detail. This was his first proper overnight stay, and he couldn't help feeling stunned at what he saw.

Gojo actually bought a permanent hotel room. Putting aside the single-use toiletries, the apartment was barely furnished, and most of the furniture didn't show many signs of use. Although Fushiguro had known Gojo for many years, he had never heard of Gojo having a respectable place to live besides the Gojo family estate itself.

Not that he would talk about these things with Gojo.

Fushiguro took a set of brand new clothing and single-use toiletries, and took a shower. Before entering the toilet, he saw Gojo sitting at the living room table cutting the cake. Once Fushiguro was done, he couldn't find the hair dryer no matter how hard he searched, and instead found Gojo with his head on the dining table, asleep.

He really looked very tired. Fushiguro couldn't help but imagine himself in his shoes, but after business trips for a single month, he had slept for a whole night, continued sleeping at the airport, slept until the plane touched down and kept sleeping after taking a taxi to Jujutsu High, completely knocked out during meal times. He knew Gojo had it even worse. He became a Special Grade sorcerer many years before Fushiguro did, and Fushiguro was there to witness how busy he was. However, although Fushiguro could somewhat feel it before, this was the first time he could recall Gojo showing it so straightforwardly.

Just as Fushiguro was contemplating whether to wake him and ask him to bathe before sleeping in bed, or get a jacket from the bedroom to cover him and let him keep sleeping, Gojo woke up.

His white hair was a little messy. Gojo yawned with groggy eyes. Seeing Fushiguro come out from his shower, wearing the clothes that he had prepared, but were a little too big for Fushiguro, said, “... Megumi, you’re done washing…”

“Yeah, I couldn't find the hair dryer.” Fushiguro watched Gojo get up and rub at his eyes.

“I put that in the drawer in the bedroom.” Gojo woke up a little. “I’ll go get it for you.”

“No need.” Fushiguro firmly rejected, seeing Gojo’s half-asleep state, “I can go look for it myself. Go shower and change, and then go to bed.”

For once, Gojo didn't say anything in return, and just obeyed, taking a set of clothes and one-use toiletries and heading into the toilet.

Fushiguro put the leftover strawberry shortcake back into the cake box and put it in the freezer. Realizing that the bottles of water hadn't moved, he took two bottles and placed them on a desk in the bedroom. Rummaging in the cupboard beside the desk, he indeed found the brand-new hair dryer.

Gojo might not even use it much, who knows how long it’s been here.

Fushiguro plugged it into a socket on the wall, turned it on, and started blowing his own hair.

Luckily Gojo wasn't so tired to the point of sleeping in the toilet, he indeed only blew his hair for a short time, and took a towel, roughly wiped at his hair, and leapt towards the embrace of his bed. In the next second, he was caught by a Fushiguro who couldn’t take it anymore.

“Blow your hair before you sleep.” Fushiguro looked at Gojo, whose expression was like that of a three-year-old who not only failed to receive candy but was also scolded, and compromised, “I’ll help you blow it, so sit down.”

The three-year-old looked happier, and obediently sat down beside the bed so that Fushiguro could blow his hair, and with every passing minute, asked, “Is it done,” clearly broadcasting his desire to immediately close his eyes and fall asleep on the bed. When Fushiguro finally turned the hair dryer off and unplugged it, Gojo had already taken off his slippers, crawled onto the bed, claimed one side for himself, and when Fushiguro turned to look at him, opened his arms in his direction and said, “Megumi, come here quickly.”

Fushiguro closed the bedroom door, turned off the lights, and used the light from his phone screen to make his way into the bed. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a little light shining into Gojo’s eyes. Just as he lay down, before he could even put down his phone, Gojo sidled up to him. The warmth of his body was especially obvious in the dark and under the blankets. Subconsciously, Fushiguro turned his body to the side, and was hugged by the other.

Along with the warmth, Fushiguro could also feel Gojo’s heartbeat. He could hear his light breaths, and thought he could finally get a good rest, but unexpectedly, Gojo wasn’t done yet. “A child’s body temperature is very high, so when you were younger, you were so warm and nice to hug, and you were just a small bundle too, so it was very comfortable.”

Fushiguro didn’t think Gojo was the reminiscing type, especially not with regards to his body temperature and body shape when he was in elementary school, and whether or not he was nice to hug, and thus gave an extraordinarily heartless response: “So sorry, but I’ve already grown. Since you think that way, it would be better for me to go back now.”

Having said that, Fushiguro made to get up, but Gojo grabbed onto him and retorted, “Megumi is still very comfortable to hug! Stay, stay here, beside the very sad and pitiful Satoru-san, hmm? Satoru-san is actually a rabbit who will die if he feels lonely.”

For some inexplicable reason, Gojo’s word choices tonight seemed to come out of a children’s book. Fushiguro suspected that he was so tired that even his brain was twisted into knots, and ignored his words. He adjusted his sleeping posture and patted Gojo’s back. “Since you find business trips so tiring, please get some good rest now.”

Fushiguro was 21 years old this year and an undeniably powerful jujutsu sorcerer. His rank was ascended to Special Grade last year, and it was even rumored that his promotion had been delayed. He was currently single, the status of his feelings unknown, and he had never had any romantic developments with Gojo. If asked why their relationship seemed closer than a regular guardian and ward, the answer that they had known each other for many years was rather lacking, but the people in question didn’t seem to find anything strange about it.

After finally coaxing Gojo to sleep – “coaxing” was fairly appropriate, he felt – Fushiguro found it a little hard to sleep. He suspected it was because he had slept too much in the day, and perhaps because he was a bit too used to his bed at Jujutsu High.

At this moment Gojo was right at his side. This guy had long limbs, and held Fushiguro in his embrace. From the frequency of his breaths and the movement of his chest, he seemed to be in a deep sleep.

Darkness could make one’s thoughts drift. Fushiguro couldn’t sleep, and neither could he stop himself from thinking about this and that. Accompanied by the noise of Gojo’s breathing and heartbeat, he suddenly started to wonder exactly when this had started. He recalled that ever since he enrolled in Jujutsu High, Gojo had already started taking great pleasure in crawling through his dorm room window. Though Fushiguro was often disturbed, he never locked the windows, perhaps subconsciously.

After considering the causes and effects, he found that the greatest problem lay with himself. Fushiguro realized that his lack of real resistance was the biggest factor that caused their relationship to become like this, and was rendered quite speechless by his own self. Yet he couldn’t seem to find any real moral problem with it, leading to it slowly become a sort of habit.

Still, beside him, Gojo was sleeping very deeply. Although Fushiguro knew that was partly because of how exhausted he was, it was also true that in any other place, Gojo would usually sleep lightly.

After his eyes got used to the darkness, Fushiguro could roughly see Gojo’s features in the dark. He inwardly sighed, thought to himself that it was better not to think so much about things that had already happened, closed his eyes and let drowsiness overtake him.

Before he fell asleep, Fushiguro had thought that since he had slept so much in the day, he might wake up before the sun was even up, but rather unexpectedly, when he got up again, it was already noon of the next day.

Gojo, who had been on business trips for the past two months, seemed to have received the break that he had worked so hard for. He lazed around in bed and didn't get up early, but still woke a little earlier than Fushiguro did. As a result, when Fushiguro woke up and turned his head to the side, he saw Gojo lying on the other side of the bed, supporting his head with one arm. As their gazes met, Gojo smiled brilliantly, and said, “Good morning, Megumi.”

Fushiguro had to admit, the moment he saw Gojo, for some reason, he couldn't speak. After looking at each other for three seconds, Fushiguro’s gaze swept around the room where the sunshine leaking in had illuminated. He extended a hand and grabbed his phone, which he had left at his side. A glance at the screen, and he realized it was already almost 11.

“... It’s almost time for lunch.” Fushiguro coldly refuted Gojo, and got up from the bed. He rolled up the overly-long sleeves, and decided to wash up. “It’s about time for me to go back to Jujutsu High now.”

“Ehhh—” Gojo exclaimed loudly and wiggled his body closer to Fushiguro, with such big movements that the bed boards started creaking. “You're going back just like that? Megumi is too much of a workaholic, I can't believe you’re actually going back just to wait for more assignments…”

“Yeah.” Fushiguro didn't deny it, but still turned around to look at him, and said, “Since there's still time, do you want to go out to eat?”

Without waiting for an answer, Fushiguro added, “There's nothing here anyway, the fridge wasn't even plugged in.”

Gojo watched Fushiguro’s back as he went to wash up and scratched at his own face. He couldn't say half a word in return. Fushiguro had said the truth, he didn't have anything in this place, the most use he had for it was as a place to sleep when he got back from a business trip and was too lazy to return to Jujutsu High.

Gojo wasn't in any rush to get out of bed. He felt around for his phone and briefly looked at his messages, and true to form, his inboxes were stuffed full. Mildly irritated, he scratched at his head, tossed his phone out of sight, yanked the blankets to the side and got out of bed.

Gojo's clothes on Fushiguro could be generously described as loose and comfortable. Less generously, they looked like a burlap sack. Fushiguro had rolled up the arm and pant sleeves quite a bit, and was glad that the waist of the pants were adjustable, so that when he tightened it as much as he could, it could still hang on his waist. Otherwise, he would have had no choice but to wear the top like a nightgown.

As Fushiguro brushed his teeth facing the basin, Gojo sidled over, leaned against the door frame and watched him. Fushiguro couldn't quite understand why he chose to queue up for this bathroom when there were two bathrooms in this apartment. His slow brain churned for a bit and he realized that Gojo might have something to say, and matched his gaze in the mirror.

At the side, Gojo received the signal, saw that he had attracted Fushiguro’s attention, and purposefully and dramatically sighed. Surprised, Fushiguro’s hand twitched, he held it in for half a second, and asked, “... What’s going on? The symptoms of getting old? How unlike you, to start sighing.”

“... What do you mean, getting old? I’m still a youthful, handsome thirty-three, okay?” Gojo grabbed at his hair with some force. It had already been fairly messy from sleep, but now it looked even more like a bird’s nest. “Say, Megumi, do you have any missions after this?”

“Not for the time being.” Fushiguro finished brushing his teeth, and said, “I’m on break today and tomorrow, though I'm not sure if they’ll assign me something at the last minute.”

“... Then there's no need to rush to Jujutsu High.” Gojo mumbled.

Fushiguro had turned on the tap, the sound of the water covering Gojo’s muttering, and so he couldn't hear clearly. “What?”

“I said, Megumi is so young, yet you're always the image of workaholism, not like a youth at all.” Gojo was a little mad.

Fushiguro wet the towel, and asked, “Then what am I like?”

“Like a working adult with property loan and auto loan debts to pay off and not enough money to eat.” Gojo described bluntly, and added, “Why don't you go out and play with Yuuji and Nobara?”

“They both have missions and don't have the time, I asked them yesterday.” Fushiguro reminded him nicely. “Also, I’m a jujutsu sorcerer, not someone with property loan or auto loan debts, I don't have those sorts of worries…” Fushiguro was going to keep going, but he felt something was off. Would Gojo keep going on about this meaningless stuff? Not that there hadn't been precedence, but he could tell Gojo had more to say. He closed his mouth, and thoughtfully considered Gojo from the mirror. Gojo looked unconcerned, and even gazed indignantly back at him.

“... Okay, Gojo-sensei, what exactly do you want to say?” In this silent battle, Fushiguro surrendered first, because Gojo’s face was broadcasting that if Fushiguro kept guessing wrongly, he was about to make a whole lot of noise.

“Megumi,” Gojo’s tone went back to normal, he called his name and paused for a moment, as though he was pouring wine, and said, “Move in with me.”

It was a statement, but between the lines hid a tentative, unsure tone. However, Fushiguro was too busy to care, he no longer looked at the mirror, but turned his head to look at Gojo. On Fushiguro’s face was the subtle expression of someone who wanted to say a lot of things, but couldn’t say anything. After three seconds, he turned his head back, lowered it to wipe his face, and categorically refused, “Sorry, but no.”

“Huh? Why!” As expected, Gojo’s serious tone of voice couldn’t last three sentences, and completely collapsed upon Fushiguro’s rejection. “Wouldn’t it be more convenient for Megumi to stay here than Jujutsu High? You could cut your travel time to and from missions! And it's already the 21st Century, if there's any assignments they can just send you a message! The world of jujutsu hasn't developed any supreme hacking technology, has it? Why do you have to stay in that small shitty house in Jujutsu High?”

Twisting his towel dry, Fushiguro glanced at the small toothpaste tube which he had only used twice, but was already squeezed dry, and turned to look at Gojo, “If on the way back from missions, I really don't want to go back to Jujutsu High, I could just get a room in any hotel in Tokyo. It probably wouldn't be very different from this place.”

Gojo persisted, “But this place is free, and you already have the backup keys.”

“You forced those on me.” Fushiguro hung his towel nicely, threw the one-use toothpaste into a nearby dustbin, and made to leave the bathroom, “Please do try and recall what you've done in the past. I can return them to you now.”

Gojo straightened up and extended his hand to the other side of the door frame, the very picture of someone trying to block the way. “But you still accepted them.”

“I didn't have a choice.” Fushiguro emphasized, and looked up straight into Gojo’s eyes. “Please move, I’m getting out.”

Seemingly out of ideas, Gojo repeated stubbornly, “Come on, just move in.”

Fushiguro took a rather troubled breath and breathed out slowly. He compromised, “Then please give me a convincing reason why I should agree.”

Gojo said, quickly, “So that when I return from missions I can immediately see Megumi, and the world won’t need to be destroyed.”

Fushiguro immediately retorted, “Childish. How many times do you think we can meet in a month?”

“At least once.” Gojo was still pretending to be a door god at the entrance of the bathroom, like an almost two-meter-tall metal board, his eyes glinting, “Like yesterday, right?”

When Gojo set his mind on something, no one could do anything about it. Even Fushiguro found it difficult to deal with. However, he just found the prospect of moving in annoying. Though he didn't think there was much of a difference between sleeping here and sleeping at Jujutsu High, moving was a lot of work. He had to pack his things, and maybe even buy more things. But Fushiguro also faintly detected something else, something hard to describe and hard to grasp in the air between them, something which had been born when neither of them were paying attention.

Change was the only constant in life. Just as four years ago, Fushiguro had thought that a couple of words, if said out loud, could irreversibly change his relationship with Gojo.

At the same time, he deeply understood that relationships were always changing, and the fact that their relationship now was not like how it had been then was perfectly normal. But he didn't expect his relationship with Gojo would head in such an unexpected direction, like a compass that was just slightly off, an originally straight path that started to bend and twist.

Fushiguro was aware that this change was a product of time, and the Gojo of now seemed to be rather desperately seeking a place for him to belong.

So Fushiguro retorted again, “That's because you called me over.”

“Even if I hadn't called Megumi over, we would still have met at Jujutsu High.” Gojo said the obvious. But he didn't seem to think it was redundant. A meeting here was different from a meeting at Jujutsu High. After a single second's pause, where Fushiguro remained silent, Gojo said a rather unexpected line. “After I come back from missions, seeing a sign that there’s someone else at home will put me at ease.”

Fushiguro hadn't anticipated that, and was rather surprised. “... I didn't think you were the type to think like that.”

Gojo asked in return, “Why not?”

Standing in front of the “door god”, Fushiguro thought for a while, and for some reason, recalled their conversation four years ago. In the end, he nodded and agreed, “Okay, I’ll move here.”

Four years ago, when the first snow of 2019 was falling in Saitama, Gojo had just returned from a business trip when he received a call from Fushiguro. The Fushiguro on the other side of the phone said he had something to discuss with Gojo, that he was currently in Saitama, and that he hoped Gojo could go over to where he was.

Gojo had a vague feeling that it was going to be about something important, and immediately agreed. Once he hung up, he received an address from Fushiguro – it was the address of a cafe, near Fushiguro’s very first residence.

After the Shibuya Incident of 2018, the door to the New World had opened, and before the one-year anniversary of Gojo escaping from the Prison Realm had elapsed, the world in the eyes of jujutsu sorcerers had already greatly changed. The higher-ups of the jujutsu world were full of new blood replacing the old, and the Three Great Sorcerer Families were no longer what they were before, with the Zenin Family specifically having its members greatly reduced. After finally surviving a dangerous and busy year, as the aftershocks of what happened gradually died down, life continued, a little like it had before and yet not quite. The roads were the same as before, but the people using them had changed.

This year, many old buildings in Saitama were set for demolition, including the one that the Fushiguro siblings used to live in. Gojo still remembered that it was hidden at the very end of a narrow alleyway, with wires crisscrossing above it. When it was summer, the stifling heat would seep into the various corners of the house; when it was winter, the harsh cold would linger coyly. With his memory of the place already imprinted in his mind, Gojo almost couldn’t recognise which street he was on. Luckily the ablest phone now had navigation services, and Gojo easily found the cafe Fushiguro had talked about.

Fushiguro was sitting at a corner near the window, and seemed to have been sitting there for a while already. The coffee in front of him was half-empty, and his head was lowered as though he were rehearsing for the upcoming conversation. Gojo knocked on the glass, successfully bringing Fushiguro back to the present. He made a hand sign towards Fushiguro, and walked in from the shop door at the side.

Fushiguro hadn’t graduated from Jujutsu High then, and was wearing its student uniform. He had been sent on a solo mission a few days ago, and its location happened to be Saitama. He had called Gojo over only after knowing roughly when the other would be here a few days in advance and rushing through his mission.

By then, it was already sunset. In Saitama, at this very moment, a slither of inevitability could be felt in the air. Accompanied by chimes as he walked in, Gojo greeted Fushiguro, who had been sitting there for a long time.

“Why did you think of meeting me here?”

Gojo had already ordered a hot cocoa and a black forest cake at the front desk earlier, and sat down at Fushiguro’s table instead of waiting for the coffee to be done. The seat was a little too small for him, and his legs had to bend. Though considering the person who wanted to meet with him was Fushiguro, he didn’t really mind these small details.

“I just finished my mission.” Fushiguro explained, “I had a few things to ask Gojo-sensei, and I remembered that sensei seemed to be coming back today.”

Gojo could tell that Fushiguro had chosen this place on purpose, and roughly guessed what his ward of ten years wanted to ask him. For once, he didn’t retort meaninglessly, and straightforwardly asked, “So, what did Megumi want to ask me?”

Fushiguro didn’t start asking his questions immediately, and Gojo’s orders were quickly delivered to their desk.

Gojo took his fork and cut a corner of his black forest cake, which quickly entered his stomach. He didn’t seem to be in any rush for Fushiguro to speak, after all, there were many things that couldn’t be spoken of so quickly.

“I actually had quite a few questions to ask Gojo-sensei.” Fushiguro took a brief detour, his conversational skills debatably lacking, but he seemed to be thinking carefully, and emphasized, “I hope Gojo-sensei can answer them for me.”

Gojo waved his fork in the air, and said, “Answering my cute student’s questions is part of my responsibility as a teacher.”

“No.” For once, Fushiguro interrupted his often-used expression, and said, “I hope you can answer as ‘Gojo Satoru’.”

Gojo froze for a moment, before looking up.

Fushiguro continued, “Not as a guardian.”

Gojo thought for a while, and put down his fork.

“Not as a teacher.”

Shortly after, his eye mask was removed as well.

“And definitely not as the Gojo family head.”

Gojo’s spine straightened, and finally looked the picture of someone ready to listen.

“Instead, I hope you can answer as the ‘Gojo Satoru’ of the present.”

Once he was done speaking, Fushiguro didn’t really feel like he had crossed a line, because he knew very well that there were some things that Gojo had to answer him truthfully, notwithstanding the fact that this was his promise from very long ago.

So long it could be traced to their first meeting.

Upon seeing Gojo silent, Fushiguro paused for a good while. After setting the stage, he threw Gojo a question: “My father Fushiguro Toji, he died at Gojo-sensei’s hands, right?”

Fushiguro’s question was different from the usual, “Did he die in your hands?” or “Was it you who killed him?” It was clear, from the way he had asked it, that Fushiguro already knew that it was true.

“Yes.”

Gojo answered him swiftly, without elaborating on the reasons why, and made no arguments for himself, because the fact that he had killed Fushiguro Toji would not change based on pretext, and he could never use those reasons to excuse his actions. From the very first time he had met Fushiguro, he had wanted to tell him that Fushiguro Toji was dead, and that it was Gojo himself who had killed him, but Fushiguro had interrupted him then, and said that he didn’t care where Fushiguro Toji had gone, that he only knew that he had been abandoned. Gojo did indeed promise the other at the time, that if he were to want to know everything about his father, he could ask Gojo anytime.

And so that “anytime” appeared, brought up again by the person most involved ten years later.

To Gojo, this was actually a “trial”. Too many things had changed in the ten years since he’d gotten to know Fushiguro, and now that he’d become Fushiguro’s guardian, family and teacher, coming back to this question, his entire state of mind had changed.

No wonder Fushiguro had emphasized that he wanted the Gojo Satoru of the present to answer him, Gojo guessed that he might get to the bottom of the things, maybe even ask questions he hadn’t anticipated.

After answering, Gojo prepared to answer any questions Fushiguro might have about what happened then, or perhaps about Fushiguro Toji. Contrary to his expectations, after receiving his answer, Fushiguro looked deep in thought for a while, and when he opened his mouth again, what came out of his mouth was, “I see. Gojo-sensei probably hates the idea of becoming my “father”? I look very similar to him after all.”

If Gojo had employed the technique of sipping his cocoa to hide his emotions, he would probably have already choked half to death – who could have expected that line to come out of Fushiguro’s mouth!

Gojo hadn’t been stunned for half a second, and the poor Fushiguro Toji hadn’t been the topic of this conversation for ten seconds, when Fushiguro jumped to the next topic. “So my next question, about the New World…”

“Wait!!” Gojo loudly called for Fushiguro to stop, and looked at him disbelievingly, “What New World? What about the New World? Doesn’t Megumi have any more important questions to ask me? The topic is closed, just like that? Don’t you want to know anything else?”

“... Like what?” Fushiguro’s face twisted with confusion. He had no idea why Gojo had reacted so violently. “That question wasn’t even the main point of today’s conversation.”

“Huh?”

“What are you making such a fuss about?” Fushiguro didn’t get it. “I already knew that my father Fushiguro Toji was killed by you, before you were locked in the Prison Realm. Today I asked you just to hear it from you personally, I didn’t mean anything else, I don’t even have much of an interest in what happened then – although now that it’s come up, I wanted to ask you, why you destroyed the Inverted Spear of Heaven, it was needed to destroy the seal on the Prison Realm.”

Gojo didn’t understand, how did this become an interrogation of why he destroyed the Inverted Spear of Heaven? God knows how dangerous that thing was, and he had no way of knowing that he’d get sealed in that little black box, of course he would destroy it.

“... What.” Gojo had a rare headache. “I’m already free, why are you still asking about the Inverted Spear of Heaven? Shouldn’t Megumi ask about my motives or something? Even if you don’t care much for the past, he’s still your father, you know!?”

The tone of the last question quite resembled an elementary student in an argument.

Clearly, Fushiguro was better at maintaining a cool head. After Gojo finished conveying his lack of understanding, he was quiet for close to three seconds, giving Gojo the time to drink his cocoa and calm down. Only when the bottom of the ceramic mug hit the glass table with a clink did Fushiguro open his mouth again, and said, “Gojo-sensei would never raise your hand against normal civilians or jujutsu sorcerers.”

Gojo’s hand paused in the motion of using his fork to destroy his cake.

“I know you, and so I understand that there must have been a reason to force you into taking action. Such as: Fushiguro Toji was after your life. If you didn't kill him, he would have killed you.” Fushiguro’s tone was a little flat, almost composed. No, that wasn't quite right. He must have had considered these words for many nights, repeatedly turning it over in his head, for it to be presented using this tone. Gojo raised his head slightly and found that the other was staring right at him with his usual expression, save for his eyelashes, which were slightly turned down.

He said, “From a different perspective, if someone wanted to kill you, and the only way out was to kill that person in return, most people would do it – at least jujutsu sorcerers would do it.

“Besides, you are my guardian, the benefactor who saved me and Tsumiki, the past ten years speak for themselves.” Fushiguro must've had found a balance long ago, he was not a child who needed others to worry about him, and he knew very well right from wrong, “Of course, I’m not rejecting Fushiguro Toji. He was indeed my father, and raised me for a period of time, although I was rather miserable then, but those memories have already faded, and I can't remember much.”

With half the black forest cake in front of him gone, upon hearing that, Gojo huffed out a laugh. “Megumi, it kind of sounds like you're making excuses for me.”

“I’m telling the truth.” Fushiguro corrected, “Isn’t that so?”

It had to be said that Fushiguro was rather mature for his age, he would be only 17 within the next month. Gojo had thought he might show some signs of teenage rebellion, but upon further contemplation, Fushiguro had already grown rapidly after Tsumiki had been cursed, and was no longer an obstinate child. Jujutsu sorcerers couldn't be compared to regular humans after all, though Gojo wasn't sure whether to be glad or regretful for it.

The year of 2018 had been rather unkind to the youths in Jujutsu High.

Gojo Satoru wasn't so strong that he could protect even the mental state of all teenage jujutsu sorcerers-in-training. He couldn't do it, and could never do it.

“Other than that, what did Megumi want to ask?” Gojo decided to skip the topic at hand, and not destroy the poor black forest cake, “What about the New World?”

“After the New World, lots of people appeared.” Fushiguro established a broad premise, before returning to Gojo, “Gojo-sensei is no longer ‘the strongest’, right?”

Fushiguro had greatly outperformed Gojo’s expectations today, so much so that Gojo was rather stunned. He didn't know why Megumi had suddenly brought up the idea of “the strongest”, but he had indeed used to say it a lot. It sounded arrogant, but it had been the truth. Thus, he swallowed the black forest cake in this mouth, and asked, “What does Megumi think? About Gojo-sensei being the strongest? Hm… I guess after the door to the New World was opened, “the strongest” has yet to be proven, that's true.”

Looking at Gojo who seemed deep in thought, Fushiguro thought this man was probably mentally weighing whether he was the strongest, and answered, “I’ve heard it from you many times, in various places. To me, ‘because I’m the strongest’ means ‘don’t worry, leave it to me’.”

Gojo wasn't expecting that.

The strongest. He'd gotten used to saying it, and was of course aware that it was a curse on himself. But he also knew that if he took more upon himself, others didn't need to take on as much – now that he thought about it, why did it have to be him? Just because he was the Six Eyes?

“Though considering your personality, I guess there's plenty of reason that you'd say it so much.” Fushiguro ignored Gojo’s squawk of “What do you mean, plenty of reason”, and continued, “There’s so many things you obviously can't do.”

“Hm, that's true.” Gojo already finished his black forest cake, and started attacking his cocoa, as opposed to Fushiguro, who hadn't even touched his half a cup of coffee, “For example, I can’t drink alcohol.”

Fushiguro clearly wasn't referring to that, and didn't know if Gojo really didn't know, or was giving that example on purpose. He sighed lightly, said, “The last question.”

Gojo’s tone was lighter than before. “Go ahead, I’ll answer if I know.”

“Gojo-sensei,” Fushiguro didn't look at Gojo, his eyes were slightly lowered, his gaze on his already-cold coffee, and asked what he'd wanted to ask the whole time, “Have you ever treated yourself like a human?”

If the previous questions only took Gojo aback, then now he was completely dumbfounded. He was born with the Six Eyes, with the strongest technique, which then thoroughly evolved through his encounter with Fushiguro Toji, and thus he became what he was today. This seemingly light and simple question was, to Gojo, the hardest to answer.

Past memories came rushing back to him. His dear friend Suguru, saying goodbye to him forever in a street in Shinjuku, his question of “Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru, or are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest”. While he existed in the human world, enjoyed the world of information around him, could use a phone, would eat sweet things, would sleep if he was tired, would complain when he felt slighted; he never seemed to truly put himself in the position of a “human”, much less a “normal human”.

The Six Eyes represented the superhuman, the “other”.

When Gojo had just met and adopted Fushiguro, it was the child who helped him understand what living in a civilization meant, which was why he was even here today.

And today, this child unlike any other has given him such a straightforward, piercing question.

Now that he thought about it, most people probably liked lively homes, dining tables bustling with noise, and always having someone waiting for you to come home.

Even if they chose to spend their lives alone, they would have other methods of spiritual sustenance.

Then what about Gojo Satoru?

Gojo was silent for very long, and Fushiguro, in front of him, didn't seem urgent for a response, and began quietly drinking his coffee, careful to make as little noise as possible so as not to disturb Gojo’s thinking.

“... Yes, I can't do many things.” In the end, Gojo spoke, a little stiffly, a little unclear. His cocoa wasn't sweet anymore and he could only keep stirring it. He said, “I don't disagree with–”

“Gojo-sensei,” Fushiguro interrupted, “Whether you want to answer or not, it's fine, I know the answer already. I just wanted to tell you that, in my eyes, you're just a normal person. That's it.”

Gojo’s answer was most likely a negative. Fushiguro could guess that he might spout a lot of useless bullshit to stall for time, until he managed to change the topic. The real answer would only be buried in his heart. Fushiguro sometimes thought that this man carried too much on his back, and yet there was not a single person who could understand him and reach his heart.

He arrogantly thought that he understood Gojo, because in some ways they were the same type of person. But from a different perspective, they were exceedingly different. Nine years of experience wasn't something that could be easily chased up to by exorcizing a few curses, and just knowing the events in someone's past didn’t mean he could completely empathize with them.

Everyone had their own secrets. The memories that Gojo would never say aloud, he can digest them himself.

“Gojo-sensei, I apologize.” Fushiguro put down his coffee mug, “I’ve said some rather offensive things.”

Gojo suddenly felt intrigued. In this exchange, Fushiguro would sometimes use formal speech, and sometimes treat Gojo as his peer.

It was most likely not unwittingly, but on purpose.

With that thought, Gojo found himself relaxing. He stretched lazily, his curled-up leg touching Fushiguro’s unavoidably. “Just an apology isn't enough. I teleported from Jujutsu High and I haven't even had any dinner. To show how sorry you are, shouldn't Megumi treat me to a meal?”

Lunch had to be eaten, but Fushiguro’s plans to go back to Jujutsu High became a large shopping trip for household items.

Gojo’s place might be called an apartment, but the interior had very little in it, and a certain amount of household items had to be bought in order to make it livable. At least, Fushiguro thought his dorm room at Jujutsu High had more signs of life than Gojo’s apartment. He wasn’t in a rush to go back to Jujutsu High to pack since he didn't have that much in it. The only things of note, he supposed, were his clothes and the books on his shelf. But Fushiguro felt that if he brought it up, Gojo would extremely likely just ask Ijichi to help him pack and bring it over. He didn't want to bother Ijichi, and decided to make a trip to Jujutsu High in the future.

Regarding the topic of “home”. Back when the Fushiguro siblings’ home in Saitama was demolished, as the name on the property belonged to neither of the two, Gojo had to put in a lot of work in order to get them compensation for it. After Tsumiki recovered, Gojo had also arranged for her to start enrolling in high school again in Tokyo and living in a studio apartment. It was said that it was a relatively safe neighborhood, and Fushiguro would make time to visit her.

However, their “home” had been flattened with an excavator. This year Fushiguro had to go to Saitama for a mission, and went to visit on a whim, but it had already been rebuilt into a residence, the appearance completely changed, and he almost wasn't able to recognise it.

Fushiguro kept staying in the Jujutsu High dorms, and after Tsumiki graduated from high school, she stayed at the Tokyo University dorms. They had the compensation money from the demolition and Fushiguro’s savings from his years of work, and it was enough to buy a house in Tokyo. But for some reason, they kept putting it off. Tsumiki didn't bring it up and Fushiguro kept forgetting, and in the end they both accepted the present state. Maybe when Tsumiki graduated from university, they might have reconsidered it.

As it was, Tsumiki was quite a few years away from graduating from university, and Fushiguro was hopping between missions. Sometimes when he had some private time, he would daze, thinking that it was very normal for Gojo to be unable to answer when he asked him “Have you ever treated yourself like a human” – because Fushiguro was following in his footsteps.

It was because of that conversation that he agreed to Gojo’s request.

Fushiguro looked at the person who was on business trips for two months and had slept who-knows-how-many hours a night, and found that he was more energetic than himself, especially after he’d agreed to move in. Gojo was already using his phone to take notes of what to buy later during lunchtime.

Knowing Gojo, Fushiguro thought that he would probably refurnish the entire house, from small items like toothbrushes, cups, towels, to big items like bedsheets and pillow cases. Once they reached, he might even buy a bunch of clothing for Fushiguro, and then spend even more on delivery, so they wouldn't have to worry about how to move it back.

Fushiguro only felt that his two rare days of break were flying away, and felt quite depressed, but he couldn't show it, to the point that at the end of the trip he was the only one seriously picking things out at the store while Gojo chose whatever he liked. It's not that he never suspected that Gojo didn't have the basic ability to take care of himself, but Fushiguro quickly dismissed the thought. That was not possible; most of the time, Gojo was just lazy.

Fushiguro’s gaze just happened to linger on a frog-shaped mug while thinking about something else, and it was caught by Gojo’s sharp eyes. He put it into the shopping cart – this was already the fourth mug that Gojo had put in the shopping cart.

And they did indeed buy new clothes. Even if Fushiguro didn’t think there was any need for it, as he just needed to go back to Jujutsu High to get his clothes, Gojo didn't seem to want Fushiguro to return to Jujutsu High in his two days of break, and even bargained with him, saying they'd just buy the clothes he’d wear for these few days and the very crucial sleeping clothes.

Apart from the household items, the shopping cart also contained a packet of coffee beans that Fushiguro had put in with self-awareness. As the automatic coffee machine was too large to be put in the shopping cart, after paying, Gojo let the staff find a time to deliver it to their doorstep. Other things, like toothbrushes, toothpaste, towels, tissues, toilet paper as well as cutlery, filled up a whole car; and they were plagued with difficulty trying to move it all back. Although Gojo and Fushiguro, as jujutsu sorcerers, didn't lack the ability to lift them, but if they had just carried all the items out of the shop and then teleported back, they might end up on the front page of the news the next day, with a ridiculous headline like “Unidentified Flying Object Found in the Skies of Tokyo”.

They ate a quick dinner and returned quickly to unpack all the things they'd bought. Fushiguro showered and changed into the sleeping clothes they hadn't even removed the tag from, and flipped through all the bags on the living room table, taking everything out from the bags. After taking up all the space on the table, the coffee table and half the floor, he found that Gojo had bought eight whole mugs, all of different colors, patterns and materials, none of which he had much impression of besides the strange-looking frog-shaped ceramic mug that weighed like a brick when he picked it up. The only saving grace was that Gojo didn't get too excited and buy any matching sets, although the pink rinsing cup and children’s toothpaste at the side didn't seem much better than matching cups.

Gojo could cook. Fushiguro had eaten his cooking a few times when he was younger, and it had tasted better than a restaurant right outside his elementary school. But the job of a jujutsu sorcerer was a busy one, and eating at a proper time was already considered a luxury, much less having the time to cook for himself.

Fushiguro suspected that the cutlery on the table wouldn't be used very often, at most twice a month, and after half a year, would still look good as new.

Also, they really bought a lot of things. Fushiguro didn't find buying them very tiring, but looking at the things sprawled on the table and floor, he felt a headache come on. He wasn't worried about where to put the things, after all, he wasn't about to stand on ceremony with Gojo. It was just that he wasn't looking forward to cleaning, and cleaning for more than two, at that.

His eyes first locked on the eight mugs. Fushiguro took four, and headed towards Gojo, who hadn't moved from the bedroom after leaving the toilet, planning to ask him exactly what to do with these mugs, only to see him standing on a chair, of which only one of its four legs were touching the ground, the others hovering in the air. Gojo, completely oblivious, was adjusting the curtains that had just been put up with difficulty.

The original curtains in the bedroom were white with dark patterns, thick but translucent, and when the sky darkened even a little, they looked pale and lifeless.

“Gojo-sensei, you bought eight mugs.” Fushiguro watched as the curtains were replaced with dark ones, and asked Gojo, who was performing a circus act, “Exactly which of these were you planning to use?”

“Hm? Were there so many?” As expected, Gojo had no idea how many mugs he’d bought. “I remember there was a frog one, Megumi looked at it for so long.”

Fushiguro waved the four mugs in his hands at him, raised an eyebrow and said, “I’m asking which one you’re going to use.”

Gojo thought for a good while, the legs of the chair touching the floor here and there, and said, “I want the black one with the cats. Ah, also, I’m going to be using the children’s toothpaste, it’s strawberry-flavored, don’t steal it from me.”

Fushiguro was not childish enough to want to steal children’s toothpaste from Gojo. As someone thirteen years younger than Gojo, Fushiguro was a lot more mature than him in many ways. Even though no matter how you looked at it, it was weird for a grown man of thirty-three to be using children’s toothpaste, Fushiguro believed that personal taste shouldn’t be suppressed. Gojo could be considered an endangered species, the kind that still had a youthful heart.

Fushiguro returned to the living room and first prepared both his and Gojo’s toiletries. He took a gray towel for himself and gave the light blue one to Gojo. It would have been fine if he didn’t unfold it, but once he did, Fushiguro found that the inner side of the gray towel had an extraordinarily adorable Kirby on it, and even Gojo’s had a Bulbasaur.

He knew immediately that Gojo had replaced the plain towels he’d put in the shopping cart when he wasn’t looking.

They hadn’t bought as many towels as they did mugs. Fushiguro gazed silently at the Kirby on his towel for a long while, before resignedly hanging it on the rack, accepting the reality that he was going to be using it from now on.

Gojo’s rinsing cup was pink; the other one was white, and naturally belonged to Fushiguro. They’d bought a whole row of toothbrushes, and Fushiguro thought that since this bastard wanted cute things, he might as well see it through to the end, and took out the pink toothbrush from the middle and put it in the pink rinsing cup, claiming an orange one at the side for himself. Once he was done with the toilet, he unpacked the paper towels and the tissues, and placed them respectively in the toilet, living room and bedroom. After looking around, he found a small room that looked suspiciously like a storage room, with rows and rows of unevenly-sized containers, and he put the remaining tissues and paper towels into one of the boxes.

As he was preparing to place the cutlery into the kitchen, Gojo finally walked out with the white curtains he’d spent who-knows-how-long hanging, took one look at Fushiguro and called out to him, “Megumi.”

Holding a stack of bowls and plates, about to head to the kitchen, Fushiguro heard Gojo call him, and turned around to look at him, confused. He watched Gojo throw the curtains onto the sofa, walk behind him, and extend his hand. He then heard a very soft “clack” as Gojo seemed to snap something apart, and showed it to Fushiguro, saying, “You didn't remove the tag.”

Fushiguro touched where the back of his neck had itched, and felt both ends of a broken plastic ring. He took the tag from Gojo and decided to throw it away. “Once you're done tidying the bedroom, come and put away the stuff we bought. I can't pack all of it myself.”

“I’m out here now, aren't I?” Gojo subconsciously extended his hand to rub Fushiguro’s hair. The kid who had already grown up didn't care for it and dodged. Gojo didn’t seem to mind, walked past Fushiguro, saw the battleground of a living room, and said, entirely unselfconsciously, “Wow, there's so many things. We bought this much?”

“... You really have no self-awareness at all.” Fushiguro couldn't resist saying, “There should be more to be delivered, right?”

Gojo looked around, shock plain on his face. “There’s going to be things delivered here?”

Fushiguro raised his head and looked at the ceiling with difficulty, doing his best to hide his rolled eyes. “So you are getting on with age, your memory has been getting worse, right? How quickly you forget what you bought earlier today.”

“... How dare you! I’m still a vibrant, cheerful thirty-three!!” As expected, goading Gojo could lead him to misuse his vocabulary. Fushiguro turned around to pick something else up and hid his expression as he heard him say, “I remember very well!”

Just packing what they’d bought today took them until 11pm. Gojo’s apartment was very big, and had a storage room to keep things, so they weren’t lacking in space. Fushiguro couldn’t help counting the remaining hours of break he had on his fingers. Although today’s shopping didn’t add to his stress, but less time was less time, and there were other easily-overlooked things that they hadn't bought, which they would have to go shopping for the next day or the day after.

As the two men finally took a break, realized they were a little thirsty, and went to look for water, they found the empty fridge was still empty, without any food or drinks to fill the space. From what Fushiguro had bought yesterday, there was only one bottle of water left, smack dab in the middle of the fridge. Fushiguro, who had come here to look for water, looked at Gojo, who had followed him to look for water. They stared at each other for a good while, neither of them making a move to take the bottle.

“Megumi can have it,” said Gojo, who had arrived later, and come back to his senses. He turned to leave the kitchen, probably having remembered that in the day they had only bought household items, and completely forgot about food and water, and went to look for his phone and wallet. “I’ll go to the convenience store downstairs to buy some water–”

“Gojo-sensei.” Fushiguro took the water back to the bedroom, twisted the cap open, and poured half the bottle into Gojo’s newly-bought cat mug, and left the other half for himself. He knew that Gojo had never stopped moving, and like himself, had not drunk water for a long time. “I’ll split half with you, let’s go down together after drinking.”

Half a bottle of water wasn’t much, and Gojo, who’d found his phone and wallet, didn’t stand on ceremony with Fushiguro, he took his cup and finished his water in a few gulps. He was wearing sleeping clothes that he’d bought earlier in the day, and only wore a jacket on top. To Fushiguro, he said, “Then Megumi should go and wear a jacket, it’s cold outside.”

“Okay.” Fushiguro hadn’t thought of going out just like that. He went to the bedroom and unwrapped and put on a jacket Gojo had bought for him earlier that day. He grabbed his phone and keys, headed directly to the entryway, and said to Gojo, “No need to bring your keys, I’ve got them.”

He reached the elevator first, and as he was waiting for Gojo, Fushiguro looked at his phone quickly. All was calm in his inbox, but his LINE group was fairly active.

Kugisaki: [I’m back! Itadori is at Jujutsu High, right? Fushiguro should be resting now, quickly get him out so we can go eat and shop!]

Itadori: [I’m coming back tomorrow morning, I'm free for a meal at night. Where’s Fushiguro?]

Kugisaki: [I don't know, I haven't heard from him since yesterday. He’s not being exploited by that so-called teacher of ours into going on another mission, is he?]

Fushiguro looked at this message and paused, thinking that he did in fact have to go on “another mission”. He kept reading and found that the other messages were just Kugisaki and Itadori ignoring their post-mission fatigue to yell at him, asking him to reply, and some other idle chatting.

Fushiguro got out his phone keyboard and replied: [If there aren’t any last-minute missions, I’ll be free tomorrow afternoon, what time should we meet?]

Not three seconds after he sent it, there was a new notification from the group.

Itadori: [Fushiguro’s alive! Is Gojo being a respectable teacher for once?]

Kugisaki: [3pm, my desire to shop is burning! Itadori, carry my bags tomorrow!]

Itadori: [No problem! Then at night should we eat self-serve sukiyaki at Ginza? I’ve been craving it for so long.]

“Respectable teacher? What?” Before Fushiguro knew it, Gojo had already worn his shoes, closed the door and walked behind Fushiguro. He glanced at his screen and the first thing he saw was “respectable teacher”, seemingly with no concern for others’ privacy.

Fushiguro didn’t seem to mind him looking at his phone, and said, “I’m meeting with Itadori and Kugisaki tomorrow afternoon, we’re going to eat at Ginza at night.”

“Go ahead, if there are any last-minute missions assigned to Megumi, I’ll help you deal with them.” Gojo looked away from the screen and gave Fushiguro a side-eye as they were waiting for the elevator. “Were you guys secretly talking behind my back again?”

Fushiguro was first shocked by the “consideration” and “empathy” in the first half of what Gojo said, and didn’t make any move to reject or accept. Once he heard the second half, his expression returned to normal, and he replied honestly, “What do you mean secretly? Don’t we do it in broad daylight all the time?”

“Exactly what kind of image do you guys have of me?”

“Not a very good one.”

Accompanying Gojo’s slightly exasperated words, the doors to the elevator open, Fushiguro quickly replied to the messages in the group and put his phone back into his pocket. Gojo entered afterwards, pressed the button to close the doors, and when he opened his mouth again, it was no longer about the same topic. “Megumi, what shall we buy later?”

“I’m a bit hungry.” Fushiguro was used to Gojo’s nonlinear train of thought, and knew that the previous topic was closed. “Let’s just eat whatever at the convenience store. I want to get some milk – don’t buy so much, who knows if we’ll have to go overseas again for missions in the future.”

“Now that you’ve said that I’m feeling a little hungry too – eating at the convenience store is so sad, and at this time, there might not be much on the shelves, why not let’s go somewhere to eat supper?” Gojo suggested. “The convenience stores are open all day round, it won’t be too late to get the water and milk after we’re done eating.”

Fushiguro didn’t reject Gojo’s suggestion. However, he was still a little hung up on what Gojo had said earlier. “Just now, you said if I was assigned to a mission tomorrow, you’d take my place?”

“Yeah, isn’t it a good thing?” Gojo slanted his head down to look at Fushiguro. Even though he was substituting for a mission, his expression was full of glee, leaving Fushiguro disoriented, and confused as to what had made him happy. “This is a rare chance to take advantage of me, make good use of it, hm?”

Sometimes he really couldn’t understand what Gojo was thinking, but only a fool would give up this opportunity. Gojo had handed it on a golden platter to Fushiguro, so how could he say no? As he thought so, faced with Gojo’s out-of-the-blue suggestion for Fushiguro to move in and half his day spent buying household items, Fushiguro decided it wasn’t so bad to accept the offer.

Gojo had always hoped, from when Fushiguro was young, that Fushiguro could get to know more people. But back then, Fushiguro had been stubborn and had always insisted that just Tsumiki was enough, and only really started making friends once he was 15 and started going to Jujutsu High. Until the present day, after experiencing battle and life and death, the three of them were still such good friends. Gojo was glad for Fushiguro, and didn’t want some annoying mission to interrupt their gathering, which is why he had offered.

He didn’t know if Fushiguro could understand that.

As he was ordering, Gojo looked thoughtfully at Fushiguro, and pushed that thought back: How could Megumi not know? No one could know better.

They slowly finished their supper while chatting, before returning to the convenience store. By then it was already past midnight. The convenience store staff member was taking the expired items off the shelf and restocking the newly-arrived items.

Fushiguro, after eating his fill, didn’t linger at the frozen section for too long, and only took four bottles of milk, for every two bottles, one was at half price. Gojo, on the other hand, lingered at the frozen section for a good while, took out an iced bun and considered for a moment before returning it, and then, before paying for all of his food, took blueberry cake from the freezer at the side and finished it before they reached home.

At the side, Fushiguro watched him chew as he finished the cake, completely impervious to the cold of the night or of the cake which had just been removed from the freezer. Gojo’s teeth seemed in good health, and he even asked Fushiguro if he wanted some in the middle of eating.

Fushiguro turned him down, he didn’t want to freeze off his front teeth with the cake.

After they reached home and washed up, it was time for bed.

Fushiguro didn’t have as much energy as Gojo and yawned before getting into bed. He was sleeping in the same bed as Gojo. Such a big apartment, two bedrooms, but only one bed. The other bedroom was only furnished with a cupboard and a closet, completely empty, with nothing else in it.

“Megumi, what time are you meeting Yuuji and Nobara tomorrow?”

The lights were turned off, the door to the bedroom shut, the curtains drawn. Both of them were lying on the bed, when Gojo suddenly asked him this question.

“3 o’clock.” Fushiguro shut his eyes, and felt the warmth of Gojo moving closer. He didn’t move, and let the warmth envelope his body. “Why?”

“Then will Megumi spend the earlier part of the afternoon with me?” Gojo said softly in the dark.

“Okay.” Fushiguro agreed readily, paused, and said, a little uneasily, “I’ll find a time to bring over my things from Jujutsu High, so don’t worry about it.”

Before it had even fully taken form, Gojo’s plan to find a time when Fushiguro wasn’t around to invade his dorm room and pack and move all his things over had faded into thin air. Gojo was rather upset that Fushiguro knew him so well even on issues like these, and agreed moodily.

Fushiguro was assigned a mission at the last minute. He received the call around noon, while he was eating with Gojo. Gojo probably saw something in Fushiguro’s expression while he was on the phone, and immediately stood up, bent over, and took Fushiguro’s phone away. He knew without looking who was calling, and quickly said, “I’ll be replacing Megumi for this upcoming mission, he has something else going on. Send the mission details to me. That’s it, don’t disturb my lunch with Megumi, I’m hanging up now.”

Gojo hung up as soon as he said he would, pressing the button to do so and throwing the phone into Fushiguro’s arms. “Okay, the annoyance has been dealt with.”

Having not really believed Gojo would help him go on missions so that he could make it for his meetup with Itadori and Kugisaki, Fushiguro felt a little incredulous. But he thought about it from a different view, and thought that perhaps it wasn’t completely due to Gojo’s burst of compassion, kept his phone, and nodded, saying, “Then I’ll leave it to Gojo-sensei. To show my gratitude, this lunch is on me.”

“Isn’t that how it should be?” Gojo wasn’t the least bit courteous with him, and immediately hailed over a service staff who was walking in their direction. “Please give me another serving of tamagoyaki, garlic chicken wings and a parfait with chocolate sauce.”

They sat at that restaurant for a long time, and Gojo received the mission details as they were eating, along with the destination. He replied with a single sentence, requesting the auxiliary manager to fetch him at 2pm at the entrance of a certain apartment.

Thus, at two, Fushiguro was rushed by Gojo to go and look for Itadori and Kugisaki, while Gojo himself embodied the principle of always being late, and after bidding Fushiguro goodbye, took his time making his way back to the entrance of the apartment. Fushiguro didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Tokyo was only that big, and it was working hours on a workday, the roads were fairly clear, and the number of people taking the train would be a lot fewer than in the morning. If he were to start heading there now, he would be way too early.

Still, Fushiguro listened to Gojo, and went there earlier.

When he reached there, it was only half past two, and he saw no sign of even the shadows of Itadori and Kugisaki, and thus strolled along the streets. As he was passing by a gift shop, he suddenly thought of the things they’d forgotten to buy the day before, as well as Gojo’s upcoming birthday.

Although he couldn’t buy a cake for Gojo and call it a day, the chances of them being able to meet up on his birthday were low anyway. In the three years since Gojo had been released from the Prison Realm, on both Gojo and Fushiguro’s every birthday, either one of them would be on a business trip, or both of them would be on business trips. The cake could be made up for later, after all, if it couldn’t be given on the day itself, it would lack that certain something.

Fushiguro thought that he wasn’t the kind of person to need a sense of ceremony, at least not in most cases, although he would make exceptions for special events. Gojo definitely needed it more than he did, but when it came to his birthday he had no choice in the matter. In Fushiguro’s memory, he could count the number of Gojo’s birthdays he was there for, but it was true that every time left a deep impression on him.

The ex-first years trio were still on stellar terms. Fiercely fighting on the front lines of their shopping adventures was Kugisaki, as always, and Itadori was still very good at keeping the atmosphere alive. The self-serve sukiyaki was two-in-one hot pot and barbeque, located in Ginza, and the average price per pax was not cheap, but it had high-quality beef and fresh seafood. As always, the three of them complained that dealing with the people involved was more work than the actual mission, of curses that had no end, and of holidays that were nowhere to be seen. Itadori did look famished; for example, after entering the shop, sitting down and ordering the highest-quality self-serve option on the menu, he told the service staff he wanted ten servings of beef chuck roll, beef tongue, and beef short ribs as well as one serving of marbled wagyu* and then three servings of all the seafood; it gave the server such a fright his eyes almost dropped out. And then, in front of a sea of eyes, he first dealt with ten plates of beef, and half the marbled wagyu, before continuing to eat while discussing whether they would pay more to extend the time with the other two. All this happened within half an hour from sitting down in the shop.

*tl/n: if anyone knows what 雪花和牛冰山 is please let me know

After not meeting for a very long time, they naturally had a lot to say. After dinner, they went to a dessert shop in Ginza to sit for a bit, and after a good half a day of shopping and eating, as Itadori and Kugisaki prepared to go back to Jujutsu High, they found, to their surprise, that Fushiguro was heading in a different direction from them.

“Ah, I’m staying at Gojo-sensei’s place now, so I’m not returning to Jujutsu High for the moment.” Fushiguro did consider going back to Jujutsu High for a moment, but the sky was already dark, and it would take quite a long time to go back to Jujutsu High and then to Gojo’s apartment, and decided to go another time. “It’s closer to here than Jujutsu High.”

After he said this, Kugisaki’s face filled with disgust. Itadori, on the other hand, didn’t seem too surprised, and responded, “Huh? Fushiguro’s just now getting together with Gojo-sensei? I thought you guys had been together for a long time.”

After hearing Itadori say that so straightforwardly, Fushiguro was slightly taken aback, and in this moment thought of many things, including the way Gojo had, after waking up in the afternoon, seemed to be scheming a way to fix a place for himself in Fushiguro’s heart, which now seemed to have an explanation. Even if they had never dated, and their relationship had never developed into that dimension, in Itadori and other people’s eyes, it seemed to have already become like that.

Seeing Fushiguro lost in thought, Itadori thought he was mistaken. He scratched his hair, a little embarrassed, “Oh, is that not the case? If I said something wrong…”

“I guess you’re right.” Fushiguro suddenly cut off Itadori’s words. “You’re not exactly wrong.”

“What with the ‘I guess’? And what’s with the ‘not exactly wrong’?” Kugisaki said, annoyed, “Is even dating such a casual thing?”

Whether he did it to protect Gojo, or whether Fushiguro really didn’t think much of it, he said, “Let’s just say it is so casual – well then, I’ll be off.”

After saying goodbye to the two of them, Fushiguro came to the train station, and as he was waiting for the train, he took out his phone to look at his LINE messages, and found that Gojo had sent quite a few over.

[The mission’s over now! This time the mission location was pretty close, I didn’t need to travel far!]

This was sent around half past five, closely followed by a picture of stew.

[I’ll be back in a bit, I’ll get what we missed yesterday on the way home, so don’t worry about it.]

[By the way, for as long as I can remember, whenever Megumi is free, you always go out to eat with Nobara and Yuuji. When can I also have these kinds of special privileges?]

[Tomorrow I still have half a day of break, Megumi should have a mission tomorrow, right?]

Two people, as they get to know each other, usually became lovers before they became family. Him and Gojo, on the other hand, had been walking step by step in the direction of becoming family since they had met each other, even if on the way they had to double up on many roles, as guardian and ward, teacher and student, benefactor and recipient, but Fushiguro had indeed never thought in the direction of lovers before. He admitted that he was attracted and attached to many of Gojo’s qualities, and if someone were to say he liked Gojo, he would not deny it. But this kind of feeling was like a necessary household item, always present, never absent, quiet but not turbulent, and definitely would not cause him pain if it were unrequited.

Fushiguro was very aware that feelings were a formless luxury to jujutsu sorcerers, he had never been overly aware of the changes in the relationship between Gojo and him. Now that he thought about it, a certain someone was certainly extremely sly, using such an excuse to carve out a space in his heart.

Thus, Fushiguro replied to Gojo while on the crowded train: [Tomorrow afternoon I’m going to Nara for a mission, it’ll take a week at most.]

[Also, what do you mean ‘when can I have special privileges’? You’ve always had them.]

After quite a few stops on the train, he got a reply from Gojo.

[I’m free tomorrow! Upper management is being compassionate for once, actually acknowledging that I need rest.]

[Muahaha, I just got quite the haul of ingredients on my way back. Today there isn’t enough time, but tomorrow afternoon I’ll make sure to cook up a feast for Megumi!]

Fushiguro didn’t need to look very hard between the lines to see Gojo’s happiness overflowing through the screen, and could tell that he was very satisfied with this answer. He could already imagine what the other would look like at home.

Time passed quickly, and just like that, Fushiguro started staying in Gojo's house. Although it was technically cohabitation, since they’d never confirmed their relationship, their cohabitation was only in the sense that they were staying under the roof, and didn’t have the connotation that modern people would usually associate with “cohabitation”.

Afterwards, when Fushiguro left for a business trip, and then went back to Jujutsu High, he found that his dorm room had been basically emptied out.

Although he’d instructed the Gojo with special privileges to not help him move, how could he have expected Gojo to listen to even half a word? Gojo hadn't even told him beforehand. His trip to Jujutsu High was a wasted one, and as he faced his long-emptied dorm, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He called up Gojo, who had a mission in another location, and the other actually picked up while in an Innate Domain, and even exclaimed about how amazing it was to be able to receive signals while in an Innate Domain.

Fushiguro didn't scold Gojo for acting on his own, just said, “At least tell me beforehand, you caused me to make a wasted trip.”

Closely followed by Gojo's “Ah, I was so busy I forgot, then I’ll treat Megumi to a meal next time to make up for it, you have to remember, okay?”

Instead of making more requests of the auxiliary manager, Fushiguro once again left Jujutsu High and headed back to his new home – the term “home” was subtle yet evocative, and carried with it a sense of warmth. When he heard it, he couldn't help but think of when he was younger and staying in Saitama, the broken air conditioner in summer, the creaking sounds of the old fan, and the ice popsicles they split amongst themselves.

This apartment that Gojo had bought was very big, with three bedrooms and a living room, with two toilets and a storage room. When he'd bought it, Gojo probably hadn’t thought about having people live in it, the kitchen was not open, the sofa in the living room was very large, and when you looked at it from the side, the living room visually looked a lot smaller. The master bedroom was where Gojo usually slept, and the side bedroom only had a cupboard, an air conditioner, and nothing else. The last room seemed like a study room, with a bookshelf without any books, and two computer desks in the corner, but without any laptops or computers on it.

After those two days of shopping, and after Gojo put the box of clothes in the living room and a pile of single-use items into the storage room, what used to be an extravagant hotel room finally had a human touch. Though they hadn’t bought many things and the interior still seemed a little empty, it was still a vast improvement from before.

Fushiguro returned home, and as he was changing his shoes in the entryway, he found that Gojo had apparently bought new home slippers. For Fushiguro, he had prepared a pair patterned with black dogs; for himself, a pair patterned with white dogs. These slippers were probably the first real matching set that they’d bought. Before he entered the living room, Fushiguro suddenly realized that the entryway was missing a doormat, and made a mental note, preparing to compile what they needed and buy it all in one go later.

He turned on the indoor heater, and searched around in the bedrooms. In the closet of the master bedroom, he found the clothes missing from Jujutsu High put together with the clothes they’d bought last time. Fushiguro changed into pajamas, and took the dirty clothes to the bathroom, planning to put it into the washing machine to wash, when he saw the dirty clothes basket filled with clothes at the side. He didn’t need to think to know that they belonged to Gojo. The pile didn’t have any light-coloured clothes, so Fushiguro swiftly put them together with his into the washing machine. However, just as he was about to turn the washing machine on, he couldn’t find liquid detergent or detergent powder no matter where he looked.

The last time he’d washed his clothes here, he had done it manually, and had used new soap. Somehow, he’d forgotten that the washing machine was to be used with detergent.

Fushiguro closed the lid of the washing machine, planning to wash the clothes after he went down and bought the detergent, and first went to look for his other things.

The books from his dormitory room had been brought over by Gojo, neatly arranged on the bookshelf in the study, but Fushiguro didn't have many books, and it looked rather strange, only taking up less than one shelf. On the other side, on the neatly arranged computer table was an expensive-looking glass decoration, which made Fushiguro wonder what Gojo had been thinking when he bought it.

He made another trip to the master bedroom and cast his gaze around. Apart from the changed bedsheets, pillow cases and blankets, the head of the bed displayed a row of fluffy toys, all various types of small animals, with even a sea creature – an octopus – in the mix.

In the freezer were quite a few types of meat that were unsuited to being kept for long, and the lowest level of the fridge was a full row of packaged drinks and milk, which not only had a long shelf life, but were also easy to keep, enabling the two jujutsu sorcerers to drink beverages other than water when they came home and didn't feel like drinking water. On a shelf in the middle, put to a corner, was a container of honey and chocolate sauce. The rest of the fridge was empty, without any vegetables.

The cupboard in the living room was stuffed full with snacks, and Fushiguro didn't need to use his brain to guess that they were all probably snacks that Gojo liked. Even so, he still opened the cupboard and looked, and to his surprise, found quite a few salty snacks, probably meant for Fushiguro. He opened one bag, a bag of seaweed-flavored salted crackers, and used that to stave off his hunger, and when he closed the cupboard door, he glimpsed a carton of juice and two cartons of bottled water against the left side of the wall.

He had originally planned on making a cup of coffee for himself using the automatic coffee machine on the kitchen counter, but after seeing the water in the corner, Fushiguro changed his mind, and instead went for a bottle of water.

Having confirmed what to buy later, Fushiguro, who had just returned from a mission, raised his head to see if he could find a wall clock, but couldn’t find any in the room, and could only use his phone to check the time.

It was ten in the morning, some time away from breakfast. Fushiguro decided to take a light nap in the bedroom. He would eat after waking up, then go shopping.

Fushiguro’s alarm rang at half past eleven, he woke up, changed into outdoor clothes, and when he was changing his shoes at the entryway, received a call from Gojo. He talked while changing shoes, clamping his phone in between his ear and his shoulder, and tied his shoelaces with some difficulty.

“Gojo-sensei,” Fushiguro’s movements were a lot slower than they usually were, “Aren’t you on a mission? Is something the matter?”

Gojo’s voice came through the phone’s speakers. “Ah... I’m on a short break now, after I eat I still have to go to the next place. Is Megumi at home?”

Hearing the word “home” from Gojo made Fushiguro feel a little strange. He couldn’t pinpoint why. Perhaps because this “home” now belonged to both of them? His reaction was slightly delayed. He opened his mouth, “Yes, but I’m heading out now.”

“A last-minute mission?”

“No.” At last, Fushiguro finished tying his shoelaces, and quickly used his hand to grab onto his phone, his form returning to a normal pose of someone on the phone, and after checking that he’d brought his keys and wallet, opened the door, “I’m going to eat, then shop – there isn’t any detergent at home, I can’t use the washing machine.”

“Oh, we did forget that last time. I remember we only bought soap, right?” Gojo seemed deep in thought, most likely thinking back on what other things they’d forgotten to buy. “Megumi, when you go shopping later, help me get a pan for tamagoyaki? Also I forgot to buy the oven as well, help me get one of that too. Also, I reserved a space in the living room and ordered a table and cabinet from the same furniture set. We can put beverages there, I left a space for Megumi to put your coffee machine.

Fushiguro walked to the elevator landing and pressed the button. The elevator was on the 25th floor, and quickly reached Fushiguro’s level and the automatic door opened. “Okay. Is there anything else to buy?”

“Not for now.” Surprisingly, the connection didn't break in the elevator, and Fushiguro faintly heard the sound of an opening car door from Gojo’s side. “Okay, I’m hanging up now, I’ll leave it to Megumi!”

“Okay.” Fushiguro hung up.

As expected, on Gojo’s birthday, both of them were on business trips. Gojo was at Akihabara, while Fushiguro was at Hokkaido, and couldn’t leave any time soon. Fushiguro found some time to send Gojo birthday wishes, and the other only replied to him a full three hours later.

However, shockingly, on Fushiguro’s own birthday, for the first time, the mission took a full day less than expected, and he reached Jujutsu high near the afternoon – unsurprisingly, his movements had all been anticipated by Itadori and Kugisaki, and he was forced to wear a paper birthday hat to his own Birthday Party*. A bunch of his ex-seniors and good friends, who had all been adults for a very long time, surrounded him to clap and sing a birthday song, as childish as could be.

*tl/n: “Birthday Party” in English

Fushiguro was supposedly the star of the day, yet it was as though he had gone to the party just to suffer. He was made to stay for a whole three hours, and could only begin extracting himself at half past two in the afternoon. Once he got out, he rushed out of Jujutsu High as fast as he could, and while he was traveling the thought occurred to him that he should be glad that he was staying at Gojo’s place, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to escape the entire day.

He indeed received a lot of gifts, including some strangely-shaped ones mixed in. For example, he had no idea who sent him a set of fluffy dog-patterned pajamas, and a full set of The Tale of Genji.

Putting aside the dog pajamas, which at least looked a little like the Divine Dogs, he really couldn’t think of any kind of explanation for The Tale of Genji, and after asking around, he still didn’t even know who had given it to him.

Tokyo had fully cooled down. Fushiguro was wearing a toggle coat, and he still felt cold walking down the streets. He took the train back home, only bringing a portion of his gifts home, the rest left at his original dorm room. He’d retrieve them another time.

Gojo was still on his business trip. A week ago, he’d said that it was an overseas trip, and he didn’t know when he’d be back. Fushirguo wasn’t surprised. The life of a jujutsu sorcerer was just like that, busier than a regular office worker. The nature of work was also different. Even if the reward was proportional to the difficulty of the mission, the former was, in the end, just trying to make money, while the latter could lose their lives at any time.

Very few jujutsu sorcerers would treat their job like saving the world – although that wasn’t exactly wrong – but as soon as their mindset was off, no matter how much money they had saved in the bank, they wouldn’t be alive to spend it.

Fushiguro had bought Gojo’s birthday gift a long time ago, but never had the opportunity to give it to him face to face. At home, he welcomed the warmth of the heater, and thought that if he didn’t give it to him soon, the year would be over. He would rather not give a gift after a year. Thus Fushiguro decided to just leave it at home, and let Gojo take it himself when he came back.

After all, even Gojo had no idea how many days he would be staying overseas.

After what happened in Shibuya, Kenjaku was exorcized. In order to prevent any accidents from happening, not even the dust he left behind was overlooked, completely sealing away the possibility of any future complications. And after the New World was opened, incidents both large and small kept happening. It was quite a nasty business. While they had managed to maintain a balance for these few years, only sorcerers born a hundred years from now would know whether anything would happen in the future.

By then, both the Six Eyes and the Ten Shadows would be ten feet under. It would be no concern of the Gojo of today.

After Fushiguro got off the train, he took a detour to the neighboring convenience store, planning on cooking himself tonight. After he went home and changed his shoes, the first thing he did was to turn on the heater and waited until the temperature gradually rose before he went to change his clothes.

The corner for beverages that Gojo had previously mentioned was already done, and the coffee machine could just nicely be put to one side. It was probably custom made, as the coffee machine fit perfectly. The cabinets on top were also now filled with coffee beans, tea bags, cocoa powder, and some rather confusing instant drinks that Gojo had bought. Even the side bedroom had started to gain some function after being turned into half a gym, with the dumbbells that Fushiguro bought and Gojo’s yoga mat, and even two fitness machines in the corner.

It had to be said that there was once Fushiguro had come back, and of all things, had seen Gojo doing stretching exercises on the yoga mat, with a tablet on the floor, playing some video from a fitness channel.

Fushiguro had almost thought that he had gone to the wrong place.

A house was meant to be lived in, as the number of people increased, it would become more lively, and the amount of things in the house would only increase. Although Fushiguro and Gojo could count on their fingers the number of times they ran into each other despite living in the same house, at least the fridge was on 24 hours a day, when the meat in the fridge ran out, someone would buy more, and such was the case for the UHT milk in the freezer and the water in the living room as well.

On top of the basin in the toilet were no longer single-use toothpaste and toothbrushes. If Fushiguro came home and found that the towel with Bulbasaur on it was a little moist, it meant that Gojo had been here. The body wash on the rack in the corner smelled of orange, the shampoo a peculiar woody scent; and the diffuser hanging in the closet in the bedroom made it so that both Gojo’s and Fushiguro’s clothes smelled of the same scent.

Gojo would also leave sticky notes for Gojo on the fridge. Later, maybe fearing the possibility that Fushiguro wouldn’t open the fridge and thus not see the sticky notes, he bought an acrylic message board and put it on the table in the living room. He would use the message board to tell Fushiguro what he’d bought and where he’d put them; or if he’d bought a gift or souvenir for Fushiguro, he’d leave it beside the message board, along with some writing.

Fushiguro could guess Gojo’s mood by his handwriting. Gojo’s handwriting was beautiful, every stroke and curve just right. When he was in a good mood, they would curve up a little more, and he would add many small emojis and exclamation marks.

There wasn’t actually much of a need for the message board, since he could just send a message on LINE, but Gojo found an intense joy in this way of communicating, and never tired of it. Fushiguro thought he would no longer find it fun after a while, but didn’t expect Gojo to take a liking to it for so long, and it didn’t seem to be going away any time soon. Fushiguro eventually gave in and also started using the message board. Even though it was only erasing and then writing a line or two, he found an inexplicable pleasure in the process. It was like a secret just between the two of them, though it may seem childish and meaningless to others.

Fushiguro spent a few minutes deciding between making some coffee and going to sleep, and eventually decided to go to bed. He’d make dinner after he got some rest.

After he slept a few hours, he got a message from Gojo.

[Congratulations Megumi on growing a year older! Forever young!]

[I hid your birthday present in the innermost closet, remember to unwrap it!]

Congratulating him on growing a year older, then wanting him to stay forever young. Truly, no matter what kind of contradictions came out from Gojo’s mouth, he would still fail to find any logical flaw.

It was just that Fushiguro found that he was already twenty-one, he had already been an adult for two years, and yet in Gojo’s eyes, he was still a child.

If he’d hidden things in the closet of the side bedroom, he most likely had prepared it a long time ago. In the closet, Fushiguro found the bag, which contained a huge box. When he took out the box, the word “Switch” in large print entered Fushiguro’s line of sight, and he thought, half-exasperated, half-amused, that Gojo did actually treat him like a child.

Below the Switch, there were also a couple of newly-bought game cards and fitness rings, with Mario, and even Zelda and Monster Hunter, making a total of 10 cards.

Fushiguro suspected that he wouldn’t be able to finish playing all the games even when he reached thirty.

After keeping the game cards and the Switch, Fushiguro didn't immediately unwrap everything else, and instead grabbed the acrylic message board on the living room table, erased the previous message from Gojo, and prepared to write a new one.

The previous message had been: I bought a nightlight, it’s on the bedside table!

Fushiguro had seen the nightlight. It was in the shape of a duck, and when you patted its butt it would light up automatically, and when you patted it again it would turn off. It was convenient in a rather odd way.

As the message was wiped away, there was a new message added to the board: I’ve received the gift. Gojo-sensei, aren't you afraid that it’ll collect dust?

Fushiguro put the message board back. He wasn't sure when Gojo would see the message, but only the two of them could understand the satisfaction of communicating like this, in a way that took time, and that only the two of them knew of. He didn’t get frustrated thinking about when Gojo would be back next, just quietly waited for the next time the message board would be updated.

At night, he ate stew and pan-fried saury, with some tofu miso soup. Fushiguro made some extra stew, planning to leave it for tomorrow’s lunch. He’d find out if he had a new mission then.

To him, the idea of celebrating a birthday or an occasion was a foreign one. Or perhaps he’d never really encountered the idea much when he was younger. When he thought of liveliness, he’d think of Gojo. For the longest time, he'd only celebrated birthdays and holidays when Gojo made time to celebrate them with him and Tsumiki. So when he went to Jujutsu High and met people other than Gojo who would celebrate his birthday, he was understandably somewhat wrongfooted; many times he’d go on so many missions that he’d forget the next day was some occasion, and in those days he was often dragged out by Itadori and Kugisaki to go shopping and have meals.

In his busy life as a jujutsu sorcerer, Fushiguro developed the habit of sending holiday wishes on LINE. Though he understood Gojo’s words that “Friends are very important”, but these few years, when it came to his birthday, he rather hoped to spend it with Gojo.

After dinner, someone knocked on the door of his house. Fushiguro went to open it, and found a stranger on the other side. They were holding a bouquet of flowers, and explained that they were here to deliver the flowers and a birthday gift. Fushiguro signed an acknowledgement of having received it and sent the other away. When he opened the card in the bouquet, he found a simple line wishing him happy birthday, the sender Fushiguro Tsumiki, while the gift was a ballpoint pen.

Fushiguro must be the luckiest kid on Earth. Despite his many trials and tribulations, he was still lucky. He had a sister who thought of him, a bunch of good friends and comrades, and Gojo, who stood by his side as he grew up.

Fushiguro realized that there were no vases at home, and could only use a large mineral water bottle and scissors to make a simple one for the time being. He added water, then put the whole bouquet in it, and placed it on the table in the living room.

The night was quiet. Fushiguro bathed, dried his hair, and found a book he planned on reading a little before going to bed, when he suddenly heard some noise from the balcony. He automatically put down the book, entered the master bedroom, and found Gojo coming in through the balcony on the 24th floor instead of using the main door again, the cold air and dust from outside rushing into the room. In his hand was a box, and from the words printed on it and its shape, it was easy to see that it was a cake box.

“Megumi!” Gojo wasn’t surprised to see Fushiguro at home, and took out his phone to look at the time, “Ah, it’s still so early, looks like I’m not late.”

“... Weren’t you out on a mission?” Fushiguro was rather surprised, his hand still gripping the handle of the bedroom door. “Also, could you come in through the front entrance next time?”

“Isn’t the purpose of a balcony door to be opened?” Once Gojo opened his mouth, nonsense came spewing out. Carrying a cake box, he walked to Fushiguro. “Ah, it’s so warm at home. I bought some cake to celebrate your birthday with – You’ll eat it, right, Megumi? But not all of it’s for Megumi, I’m eating some too, since I finished my mission and came here su–per super early, I haven’t even eaten dinner!”

Fushiguro stood up and walked towards the living room. “I made stew for tonight, if you don’t mind, I can cook some noodles as well.”

“Huh? There’s food to eat?” Gojo was pleasantly surprised to know that there was food for him. He followed Fushiguro into the living room, and immediately spotted the bouquet of flowers. “Oh? Is this from Tsumiki?”

On his way into the kitchen, Fushiguro paused, and looked back with surprise. “How did you know?”

“I guessed.” Gojo placed the cake box on the table, and caught Fushiguro’s writing on the message board out of the corner of his eye. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, and instead of saying anything to Fushiguro, took up the eraser and erasable marker on the side, and after quickly penning a line, placed the message board back to its original position, and strolled into the kitchen. “The cake box still has candles and a birthday hat, okay?”

Fushiguro paused, and looked at Gojo with a complicated expression. “... Let’s not, I already had to do it once in the afternoon, I don’t want to do it again.”

“Oh?” Gojo perceptively caught the main point. “Seems like someone’s already celebrated with Megumi on my behalf?”

Fushiguro didn’t say anything. He just shot Gojo a look.

“Did you have fun?”

Fushiguro inclined his head slightly, and saw Gojo leaning to a side, both arms hugging his chest. He looked back, shut the door of the cabinet, before saying, “Yeah.”

“That’s good.” Gojo’s tone was bright, with a faint hint of envy and some unnameable nostalgia. “After all these years, Megumi is still on such good terms with your friends.”

Seemingly having heard something, Fushiguro didn't immediately add water into the pot. He looked at Gojo for a while, and just as Gojo had turned around, making to leave the kitchen, Fushiguro opened his mouth and said, “I was also very happy celebrating my birthday with them, but I didn't want Gojo-sensei to be absent. I’m very happy to be able to spend today with you.”

One foot out the kitchen, Gojo startled a little upon hearing this, and turned his head around to look at Fushiguro, who had unexpectedly already looked away to fill the pot with water so he could cook dinner for Gojo. Gojo stared for a long while, but Fushiguro didn't seem like he was going to lift his head again, surely with some intention of evasion, but not entirely so, more like he had stated some totally normal fact, and thus didn't plan on explaining it any further.

Gojo still stepped out of the kitchen, turned his head to the side, and saw the message board on the table, so he picked up a pen, and added a small row of words at the very bottom.

When Fushiguro finished preparing dinner for Gojo, Gojo was sitting on the sofa in the living room, on the phone with someone. He had removed his eyepatch, and twirled it around with a finger, his face full of changing expressions, his words filled with bullshit and nonsense. Fushiguro didn’t need to try to guess to know that there was a high probability that the reason he was called was because he’d returned early. Most likely, management’s position was that he shouldn’t have left in the mission no matter what, while Gojo’s was that since he would complete the mission flawlessly anyway, why couldn’t he arrange his time as he saw fit?

Neither side was wrong, they just had different values.

Fushiguro placed the cutlery on the table, and out of the corner of his eye, saw that the message board had moved. He took a look, and saw the message that Gojo had just written on it: Let’s make time, I’ll teach Megumi, I promise it won’t collect dust!

At the very bottom of the message board was another small row of words: Spend next year’s 12/07 with me, okay Megumi? It’s decided!

Seeing Fushiguro come out, Gojo quickly spat out a few words and ended the call early, adjusted his expression, and stood from the sofa. “Bring the cake out, I’ll help Megumi cut it.”

Fushiguro didn’t answer, and instead said, “Wait a minute,” and returned to the bedroom, amd took out the birthday present he’d prepared for Gojo a long time, which was in the corner of the closet, and presented it to Gojo, “Here, a late birthday present.”

“I see, I see, Megumi had thought of me, hm? What is it? Can I open it now?” Gojo’s tone of voice completely changed, he was truly very happy, “Ah, but let’s eat first, it won’t taste good cold. I’ll unwrap the gift in a while, preserve some of its mystery.”

The cake that Gojo had bought was not large, only six inches, probably because he’d considered that there was only going to be two of them. It was a fruit cake, and on top was a piece of chocolate with “Happy Birthday”* on it. Gojo let Fushiguro off easy, and didn’t take the birthday hat out, just turned off the light in the living room, lighted a single candle, placed it in the very middle of the cake, and pushed it in front of Fushiguro, saying, “Megumi, make a wish.”

*t/n: "Happy Birthday" in English

Contrary to Gojo’s expectations, Fushiguro didn’t make any wishes, and immediately blew out the candle and went to turn on the lights, and even rushed Gojo to eat his noodles quickly.

The bowl of extra stew was both aesthetically pleasing and flavourful, but it had been left out for a little long, and the noodles had become a little hard. Gojo picked at them with chopsticks, did his best to separate his noodles, and ate a mouthful. To Fushiguro, who had come back around and sat down, he asked, “Why didn’t Megumi make a wish?”

Fushiguro took the silicone knife and cut the cake, and first cutting a piece for Gojo, and said, “I don’t have any wish now. The wishes I had before have all come true.”

What used to be Gojo’s high-class hotel had been slowly changing, getting filled with various household items. If it weren’t for Fushiguro moving in, Gojo probably also wouldn't have bought some weird, strange, aesthetic but useless things, and it was even less likely that he would, like a normal person, need a home filled with life. Thus this kind of “cohabitation” kept continuing, all the way until the end of February of the second year. Fushiguro did indeed feel that living here was more convenient than living at Jujutsu High. In more ways than one. Whether it was being able to eat during a break, or being able to more quickly rest at home after a mission. Even the simple matter of writing reports, in the age of digitalisation, he could simply send an email from his tablet. It was less bothersome, and unless it was a very important mission, he rarely needed to be on site to give his report.

Gojo and Fushiguro lived like they always had, with mountains of missions to do, and endless curses to exorcize. It was precisely because humans never rest, with countless emotions and desires, that jujutsu sorcerers were so busy. Fushiguro looked back a little and thought, after moving to Gojo’s place, he’d run into Gojo a total of nine times, three of which had been Gojo purposefully rushing back, once on his birthday, once on Christmas, and once on the 31st of December.

As they weren’t dating, they couldn't have spent Valentine’s Day together. However, Fushiguro did buy chocolates for Gojo, very high-quality handmade chocolates, a small few pieces costing a few thousand yen. He had bought a very large box, and besides Gojo, who would never get sick of eating sweet things and thus could finish it all in a day, a normal person who liked sweets probably could eat it for a few days.

In response, Gojo used the reason that there weren’t many beans left in the counter above the beverage corner to give Fushiguro two bags of coffee beans. On Valentine’s Day Gojo was still overseas on a mission, so he had prepared it beforehand, and had put it on the table before the day, and had even purposefully written a message on the message board to go with it, dating it the 14th of February, as though he had really come back on the day.

At the very beginning of March, Gojo finally finished another round of high-intensity missions, and when he returned to Tokyo, it was already two in the morning. After Fushiguro started staying in his house, he started wordlessly leaving the balcony door unlocked, so Gojo, as usual, came into the master bedroom from the balcony on the 24th floor.

Fushiguro had gotten in the day before, today he was on break, and he still wasn't sure about tomorrow. He shared this with Gojo on LINE. Gojo walked quietly and lightly until he was beside the bed, and saw Fushiguro already laying on it, his breaths slow, looking as though he was already fast asleep, and then tiptoed out of the master bedroom, and very carefully opened the door and made his way to the living room.

The message board on the living room table had been updated, with Fushiguro’s familiar handwriting, with only a few words on the board: The souvenir from this round. The souvenir was on the table, it was Hokkaido-only peach blossom crisp, the expiration date a full two months later, and also the reason why Fushiguro bought it.

Gojo didn't rush into unwrapping the box of peach blossom crisps, and instead returned to the master bedroom.

Fushiguro, who was sleeping deeply, didn't seem startled by Gojo’s return. He was occupying one side of the bed, and left the other side for Gojo. Gojo quietly sat on the side of the bed, watched Fushiguro for a short while, and found that he was still not awake. A little childishly, he waved his hand in front of Fushiguro, saw that he was still sleeping soundly, before petulantly putting his hands back.

He seemed to be thinking about something, he didn’t go to sleep, and didn’t wake Fushiguro up either. He just sat there at the edge of the bed and watched the sleeping Fushiguro. After a good long while, Gojo suddenly softly said to Fushiguro, who was in deep sleep, “Megumi, when will we start dating?”

“Aren’t we dating now?”

The “sleeping” Fushiguro actually replied to Gojo’s words, his previously-closed eyes now open, staring at a stunned Gojo with an unruffled expression.

“... You were awake.” Gojo came back to his senses, his tone revealing a little awkwardness.

“I’ve been awake since you came in earlier.” Fushiguro still sounded sleepy. He sat up from the bed and looked toward Gojo, “I even heard you walk around in the living room.”

Following that, a rather awkward atmosphere descended upon the two of them. Or perhaps the only one feeling awkward was Gojo. Fushiguro seemed oblivious to the tension in the air, his eyes focused on Gojo, waiting for his next reply. But he saw instead Gojo turning his head slightly to the side, as though trying to run away from Fushiguro’s retort.

After a long while, Gojo scratched his face lightly, and muttered softly, “... I mean, I need a little formality.”

Gojo had digested all that Fushiguro had said, and between the lines, threw the question back at Fushiguro.

Hearing this, Fushiguro straightforwardly invited, “Please go out with me.”

Gojo turned his face back at last, and looked at Fushiguro carefully, a little surprised, “Megumi is too blunt.”

Fushiguro went silent.

He couldn't ask him if they weren't already dating, he couldn't directly ask him out, did Gojo want him to immediately find a flower store that was open 24 hours a day and buy a rose, then run to Gojo and kneel in front of him and profess his love and ask him to go out with Fushiguro? How could Gojo be such a downer?

“Then what do you want?” Fushiguro’s temper was rising, partly also due to his lack of sleep, “Forget it, I’m going to sleep now.”

“Wait!” Seeing Fushiguro look like he was about to lie down, Gojo hurriedly grabbed his arm, as though fearing that he would go back on his word, “Okay, fine, I accept! I’ll go out with you!!”

Fushiguro turned back and saw Gojo showing a pitiful expression, grabbing tightly onto his wrist. When he looked over, the grip on his wrist loosened slightly, but didn't completely let go. His other hand stretched out towards Fushiguro, the hint rather obvious, and when Fushiguro remained unmoved, he said, “Come on Megumi, give me a hug.”

Fushiguro, who couldn't do anything against him, looked at Gojo for a long time, and completely unsurprisingly, surrendered. He sighed, and extended his hand towards Gojo, only for the other to abruptly extend his hand, and wrap it around Fushiguro’s waist first, pulling Fushiguro completely into his embrace in one motion. Fushiguro, caught by surprise, could only hold onto his shoulder, almost sitting sideways in Gojo’s lap.

This hug was completely different from the ones before. Fushiguro could acutely feel the difference. In the past, even if they were sleeping in the same bed, Gojo’s hugs still felt slightly distant, they were very light, and not at all passionate. This was different, with Fushiguro’s whole body plastered against Gojo’s chest, and thus the frantic beating of his chest which was usually hidden, and the warmth of his skin, came across through the layers of fabric easily.

Fushiguro could roughly guess what Gojo was thinking then. This was probably similar to when he had asked the other, some years back, if Gojo thought of himself as human. Gojo had an otherworldly aura about him, and even Itadori would ask a question like, “So even Gojo-sensei sleeps?”

But he wasn’t the same now.

Although Fushiguro didn’t know why it had to be him to be proactive when it came to their relationship, he didn’t hate it, and after getting used to his very first hug of its kind, opened his mouth again.

“Gojo-sensei,” Fushiguro rested his hand on Gojo’s broad shoulder blades, and after calling him “Gojo-sensei”, paused for a moment before continuing, “This is the last time I’ll call you that, please listen carefully to my next words.”

Gojo’s eyes were shut, he nuzzled Fushiguro’s cheek affectionately, he was currently delighted at the fact that he had just officially gained the whole world.

Not only that, but he also regained a human heartbeat.

“What does Megumi want to say?”

After hearing the other’s response, Fushiguro said, one word at a time, “I’m probably the only one who will accommodate you in this whole world, so please treasure me properly.” Upon hearing that, Gojo snickered out loud. “Can I take this as a ‘threat’ from Megumi to me?”

“If you think it is one, then it must be one.”

Gojo released Fushiguro, and looked carefully at the man currently in his arms. This was the child he raised, the student he taught, and one of the few people in his life that were very dear to him.

Most importantly, this was his beating heart.

“So, how does Megumi want me to respond to this ‘threat’?”

Fushiguro didn’t say a word, just watched him silently in the dark.

Thus, Gojo gave his answer – he leaned over slightly, and kissed his own heart.