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Utahime anxiously tugged at the string of fabric holding her hakama together.
Her recently manifested cursed technique was about to be presented to the clans as their respective heads try to contemplate whether: (a) her technique was powerful enough to further bolster their status in Jujutsu society, or (b) her technique was compatible enough with their own clan's techniques, she'd be capable of producing a formidable heir.
Utahime's heart pounded relentlessly in her chest. This was the day her parents had been preparing her whole life for. A part of her knew it was nothing short of an archaic practice, but there was nothing she could do to change the way that Jujutsu society treated women.
"Your cursed technique is unique from the other Ioris, Utahime."
"I'm sure at least one of the big three families would make an offer."
Utahime smiled tightly, it was the smile she perfected: gentle, docile, and obedient.
She kept that smile as she walked towards the center of the dome-like room, it was almost like a coliseum. Utahime eyed the place warily, keeping the smile on her face, she saw the Kamos, the Zenins, and, of course, the Gojos occupying most of the area.
Naobito Zenin was seated in the front row next to a boy who seemed to have a permanent sneer on his face.
She's heard stories of the Zenin boy, none of them good. Utahime felt a chill up her spine, Naoya. Naobito Zenin was looking for a wife for Naoya.
Her throat constricted, she looked for her parents, desperately seeking for a semblance of comfort. Instead, she met familiar, cold blue eyes.
Gojo Satoru.
Of course he was here. The chill down her spine was immediately replaced with a flash of irritation because, like some cosmic joke, Gojo was about to witness her being sold off to the highest bidder, or in this case, to the one with the most valuable dowry. He was about to witness what was, undoubtedly, the most shameful moment of her life.
She stood there eyeing him scathingly. The likes of Gojo Satoru deciding her whole life and her worth as a sorcerer would never sit right with her. As if sensing her simmering wrath he yawned obnoxiously.
"I'm bored." Satoru drawled. "Let's get this show on the road."
Whispers drowned the crowd, a collective agreement that she was taking too long. Some of them eyed her with prejudice because why was this low-born sorcerer taking so much of their precious time?
All this scrutiny because the Strongest decided to be vocal about his boredom.
Utahime knew he did it on purpose.
"Iori, if you please." One of the elders, Gakuganji, rasped.
Damn you, Gojo Satoru. Utahime balled her fists. She raised her chin, opened her mouth, and hummed.
One of the Iori clan members who was supposed to take the stage with her called out, but she silenced him with a look as she continued humming.
She knew she needed someone else to use their technique in order to display the full potency of hers, but Gojo Satoru wanted fast, didn't he?
Utahime started moving around the area. She used large, expressive movements, the humming getting louder as she moved faster and as gracefully as she could. There was only one way she could prove her worth, only one way to make her clan and parents proud.
Her song was starting to reach its crescendo, the bells wrapped around her wrists ringing louder than ever, Utahime knew it was time.
She started making her way to the Gojo clan. Conveniently, Gojo Satoru, as head of the clan, was seated in front. She reached out, taking Gojo Satoru's hand as she did so.
She almost fumbled and failed to hit the remaining notes of her song as her hand made direct contact with Satoru's. His palm dwarfed hers, it was crazy how warm he was considering how pointed his gaze was at the moment.
Her eyes widened at the realization that he turned his infinity off, whether he did it on purpose or not, the soft gasp from the crowd all but confirmed to Utahime that the damage had been done.
She honestly had no idea if her plan was going to work, but she'd rather take that risk. Gojo's deactivated infinity already eliminated one of the hindrances of her plan.
She was going to show everyone and Gojo Satoru just how valuable she was.
If she was going to be displayed like purchase, she might as well be the finest damn one there is.
Utahime sang the highest note of her song, lifting Gojo's hand up, willing for something, for anything to happen.
She could feel Gojo staring at her quizzically, wondering what the hell she planned on doing. Utahime ignored him, pulling emotions from deep inside her… this was what her parents raised her for, that fucking pain, all the times she'd been called weak…
She was not failing.
A flash of blue emanated from Gojo's palms, blinding Utahime for a moment.
Then there was silence.
All Utahime could perceive was the quiet rumble from the gaping hole Gojo's technique blasted through the wall.
She looked around in astonishment because the coliseum-like structure was cleaved in half and it dawned on her.
This wasn't just Gojo's technique, this was hers as well.
Hers.
She did it.
But at what cost?
She laughed mirthlessly, Gojo looked at her again, his piercing gaze sharp as ever.
Utahime let go of his hand, taking confident strides towards the center of the arena. "My cursed technique is Solo Forbidden Area. I can amplify cursed techniques."
An excited murmur burst through the crowd, Naobito Zenin whispered aggressively at Naoya Zenin's ear.
Even the other clans were muttering amongst themselves.
Utahime felt like fucking livestock, but she did it. It was so conflicting, her thoughts fluttered between being glad that she proved her worth to being petrified that she was about to become a clan broodmare.
With as much bitterness she could muster, she spat. "Have at it."
No one seemed to recognize how exhausted she felt. She chanced a glance at the Gojo clan and saw that even they were interested in what she could offer.
"I'd offer half the hectares of our land." Some small clansman offered.
"The Ioris would get land and riches." A rather formidable clan countered.
Utahime drowned out the noise, but Satoru's seat scraping the floor as he stood up made everyone silent once more.
"Old man." He said, obviously referring to Gakuganji. "Is she the last one?"
Gakuganji only grunted in response.
"Then I'm done here." Satoru stretched and gestured to his entire clan. "We're leaving."
"But Gojo-san…"
"I'm not interested in this."
"Please." Someone from the Kamo clan scoffed. "That girl just made you use your technique without your consent and still made this carnage. Even you aren't so prideful to disregard what she can do."
"I'm not disregarding anything, I just don't need her to do something I can do on my own." Gojo eyed him threateningly. "Would you care for a demonstration since you're so interested, Kamo-chan?"
Kamo dared not react.
"Ever wonder why I kept infinity down? It's not a threat, it's weak." He emphasized and Utahime knew that he wasn't done, something about the way his mouth curled upwards so cruelly told her that he was just about to deliver the final blow. "It's not a cursed technique that I would need."
"Not now."
There it was.
"Not ever."
The nail in the coffin.
Gojo walked away not knowing how his words sealed her fate.
All offers that were initially given were rescinded and Utahime went home with nothing but emptiness that night.
—
Utahime cursed as she blearily made her way to the door of her apartment someone was currently loudly banging on.
"What the fu-"
"I need you, Utahime."
Utahime had never heard him say that before so the effect was instantaneous, like she's been doused in a boiling pot of coffee. Never, in a million years, did she think that he would say it in the vulnerable, backed-in-a-corner way he was right now.
He was stuck in the prison realm for what must have felt like ages for him, maybe he lost a bit of his sanity there.
"Is this a joke?"
"What?"
"Gojo, it's 2 am, I know you have better things to do—"
"No, you don't understand." He insisted. "I need you, I need your strength."
Utahime blinked up at him, maybe he did lose himself a little bit in that box. "You know I will help you in any way I can, but you're being crazy right now."
"I need your technique, what's so crazy about that?"
"Whatever happened to you 'not ever' needing my technique, then?"
"Are you seriously still pissed about that?" He arched his perfectly sculpted eyebrow because, of course, even his eyebrows would have the perfect shape.
"Gojo, I don't want to deal with this tonight." She sighed resignedly. "Fine, I'll help you tomorrow."
"Do you even know what I'm asking of you?"
"Something about my uninteresting cursed technique, I presume?"
"You are still pissed." He grinned cheekily.
Utahime felt a flash of irritation. "You ruined my prospects and my relationship with my clan. Did you think I'd be hugging you for it?"
"I wouldn't mind." He smirked, looking down at her sleepwear comprised of a loose tank top and shorts.
She blushed and wrapped an arm around herself. "Whatever, Gojo. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Did you seriously not know why I did that?"
"Because you live to torment me?"
He ignored her answer. "Your clan abandoned you, so what? You were better off."
"They were my parents–"
"Who wanted to sell you off like you weren't even human!"
"In case you haven't noticed, that's the way things work around here." Utahime sneered. "All you did was isolate me from everyone else. I was alone!"
"You had me!" He roared back, eyes blazing. His face was so close to hers. "And Shoko. Hell, even Nanami was there."
"Gojo, I never had you."
Their noses touched.
"You're wrong. You had me then, you have me now."
Their breaths mingled.
"Gojo…"
Their lips met.
All Utahime could think of was how she was going to get an explanation from Gojo for his actions, but for now, she was going to enjoy the feel of her lips against his.
The feeling of belonging.