Chapter Text
".... Y/n?" You heard a voice on the other end of the phone. A familiar voice. It's three in the morning and instead of sleeping you're sitting and watching a movie. You grab the TV remote to turn down the background noise, because the voice is surprisingly quiet. "... I need your help."
∆∆∆
The fact is, the only reason you have a job supporting the jujutsu sorcerers is because your uncle is a Yaga. Your cursed energy is so small it's practically nonexistent. Sometimes you see curses, sometimes you don't. However, in situations where there aren't enough people in the field, you're sprinkled in in a support role... More like support for support. It never bothered you though. Your talent for being a person with curse energy is that you are almost normal. Almost sometimes makes a big difference.
But hey! Work is work and as long as they pay there's nothing to complain about. So when you were running through the streets of Tokyo in the middle of the night to the apartment of none other than Gojo Satoru, it didn't even cross your mind what was going on.
He's probably craving something sweet again, or come up with some stupid idea like - "So if you put more capsules into the washing machine, won't the wash be done faster? Damn. Okay, clean up this mess y/n." Or "I'm out of hair gel, I'm not leaving the house like this! Go y/n and buy me some." - being an errand dog defines your position more. Especially since one of the weakest of the weak in the world of the strong, you are a subordinate of none other than the strongest sorcerer. The Chosen One.
Meh... Could be worse. Right?
Right?
∆∆∆
You punched in the code to Gojo's apartment, breathing heavily. Fuck, why is Ijichi always the driver? Oh yeah, you failed your driving test.
"Gojo? What is it this time?" You asked with a slight note of irritation in your voice. You turned on the light in the living room, looking around the room for any sign of Satoru. With his height you usually had no problem finding him. But this time, all you were greeted with was a dark room. As if no one was here. "Gojo? If this is some kind of stupid joke..."
"Believe me, I would like to..." You heard his voice, strangely quiet but not weak. However, when you turned in the direction it came from, no one was there. "Listen... First, promise me that what you see will stay between us." Gojo continued talking, or rather his voice came from the side of the table in the living room.
"Um... Ok?"
"Secondly... swear you won't laugh."
"Did your students play some stupid prank on you? Did they shave you bald?"
"Promise me, fuck."
"ok ok I promise..." You slowly approaches the table, his voice getting clearer, but you still can't see him.
"Third... Fuck... Help me." His voice was a mix of anger, shame, and humiliation. You never thought you'd ever get to hear it. Ever.
"Okay Gojo... I'll help you, but where are you?"
After he told you to turn on the light and go to the table, you still didn't see him. Finally you heard some rustling and Gojo climbed onto the table top. Yes, he climbed it.
"you won't believe what happened to me..." He said, trying his best to protect his dignity by masking it with an amused tone of voice.
And so, before you on the night table stood the strongest sorcerer of modern times. The Chosen One. Except... He's the size of a doll now, with cat ears and a tail.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!"