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The act was so sudden that his mind didn't register it until it happened.
Gojo had his infinity off around Utahime, like he naturally did. Only this time it proved advantageous to her.
For all the teasing jibes he'd thrown at her throughout the years, she finally lost it and whipped her hand up in annoyance. And as her delicate palm collided with his cheek, she gasped, surprised by the direct contact.
“Gojo, I– I didn't expect..” She stumbled over the apology, then shook her head in shock. “No! You're an asshole for continuously calling me weak. You deserved that slap!”
He didn't respond. Too busy basking in the fact that Utahime Iori had touched him. Slapped him. But trivial details didn't matter right now. She touched him. It was the first time someone had done so since high school, and it electrified him. Made him realize how incredibly touch-starved he was.
Utahime gazed at him, concern boldly obvious on her face. Tentatively, she raised the same hand again, and he almost flinched but didn't put up his infinity. Not around Utahime.
Fortunately, this time she only placed her palm gently upon the reddened skin where she had slapped him. Her brows scrunched, lips turned down into a pout. “Was-was it too harsh?”
And despite the stinging sensation in his cheek, he couldn't help himself. “Nope! Felt like a fly’s bump on my glorious face.”
“I’m not that weak, you idiot!” She snarled like an agitated feral kitten and cocked her face to the other side.
“So you agree that you are indeed weak?”
“Shut up before I slap your glorious face again!”
He grinned, ducked his head low and turned his other cheek to her, too thrilled for more skin contact.
Sadly, Utahime scoffed at his audacity and decided to focus on her tea instead.