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It starts with a gift.
Utahime doesn’t really think about it much. Considering how much money Gojo’s family has, his exuberant spending abilities come as no surprise. Every time he goes on an out-of-town mission, especially one across the country or out of it, he comes back with a suitcase full of trinkets. Most of them are for himself, but he usually provides his friends with a few absurd gifts, so while she furrows her brow, she doesn’t think it’s too odd when Gojo presents her with a bag.
“It reminded me of you,” Gojo says with a boyish grin.
She expects a gag gift that will leave him laughing like an idiot – maybe some sort of bug candy that will make her shriek or an ugly painting – so she is surprised when she pulls out an absolutely stunning Chinese silk scarf.
Mei Mei leans over to eye it with interest. “Wow, Gojo, I’m impressed, but I’m disappointed mine isn’t as expensive.”
Gojo shoots her a wink. “Only the best for my girl.”
“I’m not your girl,” Utahime mutters absentmindedly, out of habit more than anything else. She’s too distracted by the scarf, carefully running the delicate material through her fingers. It’s light blue, decorated with a beautifully intricate white flower design and flecks of gold. She’s pretty sure it’s nicer than all the clothing in her closet, perhaps save for her one furisode that she still has yet to find a reason to wear. The fact that it’s hers makes her strangely breathless.
Rocking back and forth on his heels, Gojo asks, “Do you like it?”
“Yes,” Utahime admits, then manages to tear her eyes away from the scarf to look him in the face. “This isn’t a joke? You’re not going to snatch it from me and question why I’d even think you would give something like this to me?”
“Nope, it’s yours.” Gojo reaches out to touch her hair, tilting his head like he's examining it all over again. “Suguru said I should get you something nice for once.”
So taken aback by the thoughtful gesture, Utahime doesn’t notice the way Mei Mei eyes Gojo sideways or how the color of the scarf matches his eyes.
*
The kiss is the next warning sign that something fundamental has shifted.
It should make it much more obvious to Utahime, but once again, she’s too distracted to notice. This mission is different from others because of the focus on the aftermath. A Special Grade curse managed to wreak havoc on a city before they managed to subdue it. It was so strong that Gojo was forced to exorcise it entirely instead of allowing Geto to take control of it, but after the amount of destruction it caused, there are no bitter feelings.
They managed to paint the damage as the result of an earthquake, which isn’t that far off considering the nature of the curse’s technique. She was in the thick of it, something she wasn’t used to. All she could do was boost multiple sorcerers, one after another, until her feet were bleeding, her muscles were screaming, and her throat was sore, when the ground opened up from underneath her and swallowed her whole.
Seen as a threat, the curse did what it could to take her out, and then, while she was trapped underground and coughing up dirt and scrabbling on rock, Gojo and Geto showed up to finish the job. As much as Utahime wants to begrudge the fact that she wasn’t enough to make the other sorcerers stronger, in the end, she’s grateful for how strong Gojo and Geto naturally are.
She’s in the middle of the recovery mission, a side to sorcery work that not everyone participates in. It’s a nasty and uncomfortable business, usually delegated to Managers and Windows. Wearing ripped jeans and now a ripped t-shirt, she can blend in with the other civilians giving a helping hand, but after what feels like hours of sifting through rubble and helping the wounded to a medical tent and stumbling across the less fortunate, she’s at her wit’s end.
When she tries to stand upright, a wave of dizziness sweeps over her. She sways, her cursed energy fluttering weakly like a dying flame, and topples over – only to be caught with an arm around the waist.
“I got you, senpai,” a low voice murmurs in her ear.
Geto, her brain supplies. Under any other circumstance, she would’ve fought to scramble away from him, but she admittedly doesn’t have the strength. He has the graciousness to not pick her up, but he all but carries her, holding her hand, as he guides her to sit down on a slab of uprooted concrete.
Sweeping her sweety bangs out of her flushed face, Geto surmises, “You look terrible.”
“Thanks,” she grumbles with no heat.
“Have you been helping this entire time?” he asks, and she nods. “Since the fight started?”
She nods again. It hurts too much to speak. She’s pushed herself past her limit in more ways than just one. When she raises her eyes to look Geto in the face, he blurs for a moment, the edges of her sight growing dark, but then she blinks and shakes her head. She can’t heal herself like Shoko and Gojo and she’s too tapped out to give herself a little boost.
All she really wants to do is pass out, right here in the middle of the destruction. It would be so nice to close her eyes, if only for a moment…
Geto’s hand on her face startles her enough to snap her eyes back open. “Stay with me, Utahime.”
“M’fine,” she mutters. “I’m not weak.”
“No, you’re not weak,” Geto says, a slight smile on his face. She can’t read it, but then again, she has always found it hard to figure out what Geto is thinking. If he’s capable of being polite, if he’s even more demeaning than Gojo, if he even likes her or thinks she’s useless to the two of them. “But you’ve exhausted yourself past your means, and Satoru would be infuriated if he found out I didn’t properly take care of you.”
She’s positive Gojo wouldn’t care at all. He’d probably laugh if Geto told him that he found Utahime close to passing out on the scene. That was just like her. She wasn’t strong enough to help them fight the curse or help with the recovery.
“You’ve done so much already,” Geto says, looking down at something. It takes Utahime a moment to realize he’s looking down at their hands. He’s still holding hers, but he’s turned her palm upright, taking note of the multiple scratches and blisters littering her skin. It’s an ugly sight, but that doesn’t seem to deter him, not as he lifts her hand and presses his lips to the inside of her wrist. “Let Satoru and I take it from here.”
Utahime can’t say a word. All she can do is nod while he smiles and stands upright before finally letting go of her hand and walking away. Her entire body is sore, but she can only feel the warmth on her wrist where his lips touched her skin like a kiss.
*
They have saved her life more than once, much to her regret, but this time is much worse.
Utahime finally has an excuse to wear her furisode for the first time. Brimming with both excitement and nervousness, she trails behind Mei Mei like a shadow. The event is far nicer than anything she’s ever attended before. The other attendees are either clan members, high-grade sorcerers, and even the Higher Ups. While she’s familiar with some of them due to the guarded nature of Solo Forbidden Zone, it still leaves her on edge.
To be honest, she planned on wearing something less ostentatious, afraid she would come off looking presumptuous or like she was trying to lie about her status, but Mei Mei insisted on it. Wear the furisode, she said, and seeing as how she was her ticket into the event in the first place, Utahime couldn’t say no.
And so here she stands now, clutching her second glass of wine and hoping it’ll give her some sort of liquid courage instead of the means to humiliate herself. Despite the fact that she’s only a grade two sorcerer, she finds herself thinking that it’s less intimidating dealing with curses than with the way these other sorcerers look at her.
She doesn’t get it, and quite frankly, she’s a little annoyed. Men will look at her, but instead of striking up a conversation or even acknowledging her, they’ll either look away or, even worse, turn their attention to Mei Mei instead. It’s more than a little frustrating. It’s not that Utahime is on the market for a suitor or even cares about men, but the longer the night drags on, the more convinced she is that she doesn’t belong here.
Maybe she should leave. Go back home, shed this disguise, and drink the rest of that six-pack in her fridge.
“I’ll be right back, darling,” Mei Mei suddenly says, laying a hand on her arm.
“What?” Utahime glances around surreptitiously. “You’re leaving me?”
Mei Mei smiles. “Only for a moment.” She touches the ornament pinned in Utahime’s hair. It’s not nearly as beautiful or as decorative as hers, but Mei Mei had lent it to her for tonight’s occasion. “Try not to let too many men hound you.”
Utahime scoffs into her glass. “That’s highly doubtful. No one has even spoken to me outside of the servants.”
“Better to be safe than sorry,” Mei Mei tells her before wandering off to do whatever she has in mind.
Huddled in on herself in the corner of the room, Utahime is eyeing how much wine she has left in her glass, wondering if she should get another and wait for Mei Mei to return or count her losses and cut loose, when suddenly a presence appears before her. It surprises her, but before she even looks up, her mind, used to the field, does a quick analysis. High level of cursed energy but no innate cursed technique, smells like expensive cologne, a dark kimono with a deep red trim.
His face all but confirms it, so she’s not surprised when the man introduces himself as a member of the Kamo clan, the youngest brother to the clan head. He’s got a few years on her, but he’s still young enough to be arrogant for no reason, especially when he’s got nephews his age who are probably closer in line to being the head than him.
Nonetheless, Utahime is almost excited to have a conversation with him. It truly is the first time someone has spoken to her here, so she takes it in stride, trying to be both polite and engaging. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take her long to realize that the man in question has little to offer her in the way of entertainment. Sure, he’s attractive, wealthy, and comes from a great family with good connections – her parents would be thrilled – but if he has a personality beyond those things, she can’t find one.
She excuses herself to get another drink, but before she can even find another servant carrying a tray, she finds herself dragged into another conversation with two high-level sorcerers. One, she knows from working with before. He’s strong and strict, but there’s something about the way he demands her technique that she distinctly dislikes. The few times she’s used Solo Forbidden Zone to boost him, it’s like he’s trying to yank his cursed energy from her instead of allowing her to direct it.
He holds onto her by the elbow now, having grabbed her to quite literally drag her over to them. Utahime manages a few words here and there, but for the most part, she’s trapped between the two sorcerers as they debate something. Even though he asked for her opinion on the matter, he doesn’t seem to actually value it much, but when she tries to excuse herself again, his grip on her tightens slightly.
“I’ll get you a drink,” he tells her.
Utahime frowns. “No, you don’t have to–”
“You’re not here with anyone, right?” he cuts in.
Technically, she’s here with Mei Mei, but it suddenly occurs to her that he’s not asking her that. In fact, he wasn’t asking for her opinion on the matter of using lower level sorcerers as back up on missions at all.
However, before Utahime can figure out how to respond without making a scene, an arm is thrown over her shoulder, knocking her off balance. “There you are, Hime! We were looking all over for ya!”
The beads on the ornament jingle as they’re knocked together while she attempts to straighten herself, but it’s impossible for her to find her footing with Gojo practically hanging over top of her. “Gojo, what are you–?”
“You’re going to mess up her hair,” Geto scolds as he steps up on her other side.
Gojo flashes her a sheepish grin. “My bad.” He pulls himself off her, but he only gives her a moment to sigh with relief before he sweeps his gaze over to other sorcerer who is still holding onto her arm and something ice cold shoots through her. “Is there a reason you’re touching Utahime like that?”
The grin is still on his face, but there’s something distinctly unsettling about the vibe he’s giving off. It’s his cursed energy, she realizes. He’s letting it bleed out in full, to the point where it’s beginning to smother the room and making all the occupants either stiffen in reaction or squirm uncomfortably. She becomes acutely aware of the fact that people are looking at them – at her and Gojo and Geto and these two sorcerers she doesn’t care about – and she can’t gauge their reactions.
With her heart in her throat, she tugs on the sleeve of Gojo’s kimono. “Gojo, stop that. Let’s just go.”
“Yes, let’s go,” Geto agrees before smoothly sliding a hand over the small of her back and guiding her away. The other sorcerer’s hand falls away from her elbow, and she’s left to wonder in a daze as Gojo and Geto all but escort her to the other side of the room. Trapped between the two of them, the rest of the world falls away, but she allows it to happen, using their much larger sizes to block her from sight.
Gojo has put a cap on his cursed energy, but she can still sense the way it’s simmering under the surface. In turn, she struggles to keep a tight grip on her own cursed energy, which automatically seeks to answer the call of power. It’s almost impossible not to react to Gojo and Geto, no matter how much she tries.
“What was Mei Mei thinking, bringing you here and leaving you alone?” Gojo grumbles under his breath, glaring at the other attendees behind his glasses.
Utahime straightens out her sleeve where the sorcerer had wrinkled it. “She said she had something quick to do.”
“No, it was definitely on purpose,” Gojo says. “You know how much she likes to play games.”
“She wasn’t playing a game,” Utahime insists.
“Are you so sure about that?” Gojo counters, turning his heated gaze on her. It’s enough to startle her, but because it’s Gojo, she forces herself to stand her ground, even as his eyes rove over her. “Dressing you up like this, showing you off to everyone, and then leaving you on your own before we could get here. She knew what she was doing.”
Utahime rolls her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you’re being ridiculous.”
“He’s just concerned about you,” Geto interjects. “It didn’t look like you were enjoying yourself or wanted that man touching you.”
At this, Utahime hesitates, because while she doesn’t fully believe Gojo is concerned, Geto isn’t wrong about her. She’s more than positive she would’ve been able to gather herself and figured a way out of the conversation without looking like a fool or causing an argument, but she can’t deny that Gojo and Geto’s presence was far more effective. No one is even looking at her now, keeping their gazes pointedly away.
“I can’t blame him,” Geto admits, a crooked smile on his face. “You look beautiful tonight.”
Utahime blushes and forces out a quick, “Thank you.”
“I’ve never seen you wear something this nice,” Gojo adds. It’s not exactly a compliment, and before Utahime can point out that he has shit manners, he fingers the front of the furisode, right over her collarbone. It’s a presumptuous touch, especially in public like this, and startles her quiet. “I’ll buy you something even nicer next time – and you can arrive with us. That way, no one will think twice.”
“To do what?” Utahime asks, her voice quiet and her throat constricted.
Geto’s hand is still on the small of her back, burning her skin through the material. “To make a move like that on you.”
Gojo snorts, his mood strangely lightening as he peers around again. “It’s not as if you’re available.”
*
Either she’s going crazy or they are, and she’s pretty sure those two were crazy to begin with.
The only reason she popped in on the Tokyo campus after a mission was to see Shoko. She wasn’t even all that injured, but she figured it would make for a good excuse to see her best friend. And instead of being greeted with a warm hug or excited wave, her so-called best friend hits her with the most insane question.
“Oh, did you come here to see your boyfriends?”
Utahime stares in what can only be described as horrified confusion as her brain processes the question. “What?”
“Satoru and Suguru are both off campus,” Shoko continues as she fails to light a cigarette. “Separate missions, but they’ll probably be back in a few hours.”
“What?”
Shoko finally succeeds in lighting the cigarette and pulls in a drag. “It’s not my thing, but I get it. They’re both Special Grade sorcerers and, even if they can be idiots, they are pretty hot. Plus, that means I’ve got more free time without them always annoying me.” She takes another hit and continues, “Wanna see my latest experiment? It’s only a little gross. I wish I could dissect an actual curse, but they fade and Suguru won’t let me try it on one of his. Hm, maybe you could convince him for me? I’m sure he wouldn’t say no if you asked.”
Utahime grabs Shoko by the arms and demands, “Shoko, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Uh… curse dissection…?”
“No, about–” Utahime glances around, just to make sure no one is around them, and hisses, “Why are you referring to Gojo and Geto as my…boyfriends?”
“Because they are?” Shoko responds as if Utahime is confusing her.
“They are not!”
“Really? Huh, the way they were talking about you, especially after that shindig last month, it sounded like you all were, you know, together or something.” Shoko only shrugs while Utahime gawks in shock. “I mean, they made it pretty much obvious that you weren’t on the market. Mei Mei even said she got a lot of emails asking questions and complaints like men thought she was your personal matchmaker.”
“I… That’s…” Utahime can’t come up with any sort of response that isn’t pathetic. What was Shoko talking about? What had those two idiots said about her? And why were people emailing Mei Mei about her? “What do they…?” Utahime swallows, not sure she even wants to ask this question, but now that it’s out in the open, it’s haunting her. “What did they say about me?”
Shoko blinks, the smoke from her cigarette drifting lazily in the air. “Utahime, I love you and I can see that I’ve misread the situation, so for your sake, I’m not going to tell you.”
“Is it that bad?” Utahime asks in a squeak.
“I don’t want to embarrass you further,” Shoko says, giving her a pitying smile and patting her on the arm. There’s a minute shift in the expression on her face that makes Utahime furrow her brow, but before she can ask about it, Shoko continues, “In fact, you might want to run now if you don’t want to be even more embarrassed.”
“Wha–?”
The combination of cursed energy hits her from behind before she even hears Gojo call out, “Hey, Hime! I didn’t know you were dropping by today.” She spins around on him, hands clenched at her side, but she can’t get a word out, not when she finds herself trapped under the twin gazes of both Gojo and Geto. While Geto looks mild as usual, his hands in his pockets, Gojo grins widely. “Did ya come here to see us?”
“No,” Utahime says quickly.
“Are you sure about that?” Gojo teases as he advances on her. “I think you missed us.”
“And I think you’re an idiot,” Utahime retorts, “and you’re both delusional!”
Gojo pouts. “Aw, so mean, and for what? We’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Nothing wrong?” Utahime demands. “Nothing wrong?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Gojo insists.
As she glares at him – no, it’s not quite glaring, it’s not staring or gawking either, because she can’t wrap her head around the feelings swirling inside of her – Utahime can tell she’s becoming hysterical. She hates it when she spirals like that, always so embarrassed after, especially if someone else points it out, but she can’t stop it. It’s one thing for Gojo to tell people that he’s her boyfriend, but Geto too? She doesn’t know why she feels so shocked and even betrayed that Geto would go along with such a ridiculous notion.
But is it so bad that two Special Grade sorcerers want you? a traitorous voice whispers in the back of her mind.
Yes! Yes it is! These two have made her life a chaotic mess since she’s known them, and they’ll make it hell if she lets them get away with this.
“C’mon, let’s get something to eat,” Geto suggests, reaching out to her. “I’ll pay to make up for whatever Satoru did.”
Utahime takes a step back. “You can’t just– You’re not–”
The gift. The kiss. The touch. The declaration.
She can’t wrap her mind around this. None of it makes sense.
“Be nice, guys,” Shoko sighs, already absolving herself of this situation. “I don’t think she’s ready for this.”
“What do you mean?” Gojo asks, furrowing his brow.
“For a relationship,” Shoko tells him.
Gojo snorts. “Yeah, okay.” He shakes his head and smiles down at Utahime. “You just came back from a mission too, right? Go get changed, and then we can go off campus somewhere for dinner.”
“No.”
“Eh?” Gojo frowns. “No? You’re not hungry?”
“No! I’m not–” Utahime points a finger at him. “I’m not your girlfriend!”
Geto lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I told you not to get ahead of yourself like that. You didn’t even ask her out properly.”
“You didn’t either,” Gojo shoots back.
“I’m not either of your girlfriends,” Utahime seethes, practically shaking.
Gojo pouts again. “Aw, Hime, don’t be like that.”
Like what? Sane? Reasonable? How did they ever get it into their minds that she was interested in them in that way, much less that she was actually theirs? The mere thought makes her feel insane and strange, but with both of them towering over her, Utahime is very aware of the fact that they are stronger than her. Even with them keeping a lid on their cursed energy, she can sense it – and she can sense the way hers reacts to them, lulled in by the promise of power, desperate to entangle with theirs.
She can’t. Not them, never them. They’re just playing some weird long prank on her.
Unable to take it any longer, she exclaims, “Stay away from me, you weirdos, you’re not my boyfriends!” and then, like any sensible young woman, she turns on her heels and books it as fast as she can. She doesn’t even know where she’s running to or where she can hide. All she knows is that she can’t be around them or she’ll–she’ll… She doesn’t know what she’ll do. She doesn’t know what they’ll do, and that scares her even more.