Work Text:
Gojo Sayuri enjoys playing games. She loves to decimate Suguru at the arcade, in racing games and shooters; loves to clear out the prizes from crane games until she’s chased from the store; loves to sprawl out on Shoko’s bed and play Persona 3 on her PSP at max volume. If it’s a game, Sayrui wants to play it. After all, there’s nothing that she isn’t good at. No skill she can’t master.
And messing with Utahiko is the greatest game of all.
Ever since Utahiko was forced by his family to befriend Sayuri in the earlier days of their youth, Sayuri has sought out new and inspiring methods of tormenting him. She ought to feel bad, and has been chewed out for it before, but who can really do anything about it? Certainly, not Utahiko himself, as quick to blushing and tears as he is.
However, now reaching their late teens, Utahiko has blushed less and less. Sayuri hasn’t made him cry since grade school. The game is losing its steam and that just won’t do. Sayuri needs a new strategy, a new configuration of buttons to smash to get underneath Utahiko’s skin.
She agonizes for days over it. Contemplates every successful jab she’s thrown at him. For all her genius and luck, Sayuri falls short of a solid answer. Just when she thinks she might be forced to live without the delightful sight of Utahiko’s angry bashfulness, a new weapon presents itself.
All it takes is a mini-skirt and a pair of legs.
Utahiko returns from his mission to the Tokyo campus in the middle of a Tuesday. In the several steps up the almost never-ending staircase leading into the belly of the school, he hopes that she isn’t around today. He’s exhausted, having used too much of his cursed energy and not having eaten since the night before, and he really doesn’t feel up to dealing with Gojo Sayuri’s particular brand of mischief. No matter how pretty her smile is when she calls him weak.
His hopes are soon dashed, however, when he spots a familiar streak of vivid white in the distance. He watches Sayuri toss her head back on a laugh, her beautiful alabaster hair pulled high into a ponytail and her lips shiny with over-expensive gloss. She’s sitting on the other side of a low wall, only her torso visible, and Suguru sits across from her.
Great. Suguru and Sayuri are an awful combo.
Before Utahiko can turn on his heel and take a different path to Principal Yaga’s office, Sayuri’s head snaps in his direction like a dog catching a scent. Every one of her pearly whites shows as she grins wildly at him.
“U-ta-hi-ko!”
Stifling a groan, Utahiko continues along the path, trying his best to look unimpressed. It’s a difficult feat when Sayuri’s full attention is on him. He knows how men tend to look around her- plain stupid. Brainless lustful things that trip over themselves to follow her commands. She’s had suitors since the first day she stepped on campus. He refuses to be another one of her many followers.
“Good afternoon, Gojo-san. Geto-san.” He states cordially.
Suguru has a smirk on his face that immediately sets Utahiko’s teeth on edge. Suguru is…an interesting man. He has a habit of making others look stupid, too, if not by how in love with him they are. It’s embarrassing, but Utahiko has sported a crush here and there on his mysterious underclassman. Not that he’d ever admit that.
“Hey, Utahiko. How’d the mission go?” Suguru asks politely.
“Fine. Just a few low-level curses.”
Sayuri seems to vibrate with energy. She leans over the low wall, still partly obscured, and demands Utahiko’s attention with flailing arms and an aggressive tone, “Hey, hey, hey, didn’t your mom tell ya to call me Sayuri- chan? I’m gonna tell on you.”
Utahiko scowls as Suguru chuckles. “That would be inappropriate. And I am not a child. I do not need to obey my mother’s every wish.”
“You’re gonna break her heart!” Sayuri laughs, her large blue eyes rolling to Suguru’s over the tops of her sunglasses. The two exchange a brief look that leaves Utahiko feeling a bit nervous. It’s never good when these two are scheming.
“Somehow, I doubt that. Now, if you two will excuse me, I need to debrief Principal Yaga-”
“Wait!” Sayuri shouts, “I want your opinion on something, Uta-chan.”
“Don’t call me that. And when have you ever wanted my opinion on anything?”
“Awwwh, don’t be like that, U-ta-chan. I always want to hear your opinion. I’m trying something new with my uniform.”
Utahiko raises an eyebrow. Sayuri has always worn her uniform the same way. Slacks and the usual Tokyo College top. A very dignified and professional look that might trick you into thinking she’s a dignified and professional person. Contrary to her abrasive nature, Sayuri tends to dress more conservatively. A product of her sheltered upbringing, no doubt. Utahiko can relate- he hardly ever dresses in anything but his priest robes.
Look about giddy with excitement, Sayuri stands up and vaults over the low wall.
Utahiko’s jaw drops.
Miles upon miles of snowy skin, stretching up, up, up until they disappear underneath ebony cloth. It’s pleated and cute, rolled at her hips until the hem rests dangerously high on her muscular thighs.
A mini-skirt. Gojo Sayuri is wearing a mini-skirt.
Utahiko feels his mouth go dry and he quickly snaps his jaw shut. Sayuri has her usual loafers on, with thick white socks she’s pushed down to bunch around her ankles in a way that should not be cute- but unfortunately very much is.
“What do you think?”
Sayuri sounds a little breathless. If Utahiko wasn’t so focused on how shapely her legs looked and having a certifiable crisis, perhaps he would notice her nervous grin and shy gaze. As it stands, the man has been rendered speechless, unable to articulate a proper answer.
“Why, Sayuri, I think you broke him.” Suguru snickers, leaning over the low wall, his dark eyes glued to Utahiko’s face and eating up every expression that flashes across it. “I told you, your legs should be classified as a weapon of mass destruction.”
Clearing her throat softly, Sayuri straightens and begins to slink her way closer to Utahiko. This pushes him into action. Utahiko hides his shaking hands in his long sleeves and nods, “Uhm- it looks fi-ine,” his voice cracks and he wants to curl up and die, “fine! It’s looks- fine.”
She pouts, her big bottom lip pursing and wow was it always so hot outside? In the middle of autumn? Utahiko feels like laughing. Or maybe crying. Just when he thought he was getting over her.
“You don’t like it?” She asks, now far too close, head tilted up so that she can look directly in his face. “I thought of you when I bought it.”
“Oh! You thought of- uhm- ahem- why?”
She cocks her head. He knows he’s screwed when that slow, teasing smile tugs at her lips and his heart flips in response. He likes to think he’s different from her suitors and fans. In reality, he’s always chomped at the bit to get her attention. Weak for her, just as she always mocks him for.
“I wanted to dress in something you’d like,” she says slyly, and now, closer, Utahiko notices the blossoming red on her cheeks and how her teeth nibble at her bottom lip when she stops speaking.
Is she nervous? The thought nearly has him groaning with the unfairness of it all.
“Do you…do you like it?” She bats her eyelashes at him and Utahiko swallows thickly. Behind her, Suguru chuckles into his hand, obviously more than amused by the turn of events.
“Ah- uhm- I think you might, uh, get cold.”
The wrong thing to say. Sayuri’s mouth twists downwards and she takes a step closer. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
Unlike usual, Sayuri’s tone isn’t playful. Taking a quick breath, Utahiko reassesses the situation. He glances over her shoulder at Suguru. The other man tilts his head at her, an obvious gesture-
Compliment her, moron!
Terribly nervous, hoping not to give too much away, Utahiko looks back at Sayuri and attempts his kindest smile. “You look beautiful.”
Given Sayuri’s pale composition, the explosion of red across her face is as obvious as a punch to the gut. “Of- of course, I do!” She snatches his hand and drags him forward. Utahiko sucks in a harsh breath at the feeling of her hand in his. “C’mon, Suguru and I were waitin’ for you. We’re going to karaoke!”
“Wait- I need to check in-”
“That old geezer can wait!”
And then Sayuri beams a thousand watts up at him and he’s weak- so, so weak, just like she always says. Suguru flashes him a knowing smile and stands to round to Utahiko’s other side. Trapped between the two, all Utahiko can do is sigh.
“Fine. But we’re inviting Shoko.”
Damn whoever invented mini-skirts.