Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Snow is…” Yuji gazes in the distance, at the streetlights casting a warm, golden glow, illuminating swirling gusts of snow that dance through the air. Fluffy white snowflakes float gently down from the overcast sky, landing at the top of a passerby’s hair or beanie hat.

For a second, an image of fluffy snow-white hair with a blinding presence graces his mind.

“Mysteriously still special for me…”

As if on cue, his feet speed up by themselves, gliding across the slippery snow-covered pavement with a soft crunching sound under his sneakers, eager to return to the warmth of his home as soon as possible.  

If the weather reports are right and the snowstorm will pass today, the snow will surely pile up on the side of the road the next morning, even perhaps in the backyard of his Grandpa’s house.

“It makes you wanna build a snowman, isn’t it?” He mutters and smiles to no one in particular.

They both reach the start of the intersection when the red light for pedestrians blinks bright. After walking across it, he has to turn left for his next stop.

Sensing the sudden quietude from his companion, he tilts his head to the right, barely missing the gentle smile Ozawa has on her face before the girl quickly looks away. Ozawa’s cheeks are dusted with blush.

‘𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳’ he thinks.

They cross the intersection side-by-side. Just about reaching the end of the crossroad, he turns the gear in his brain, looking for something else to say. He hasn’t met any of his old classmates since he came back to Sendai and Ozawa is the first one he sees, albeit also coincidental. Who knows when else he can meet any of them, so it feels rude to just end their short conversation here, somehow.

‘𝘈𝘩!’ the metaphorical light bulb shines inside his head.

“Well, I have to turn left here, is Ozawa heading over there?” he points in the opposite direction.

Ozawa slowly nods, flush still high on his cheeks.

“Okay, then if you need someone to help with the moving from your grandmother’s house, just text me. I’m sure I can be of some help!” He grins, flexing his left bicep, despite the thick jacket not showing any of his muscles.

For some reason, Ozawa’s face is getting a little redder. He'd better not prolong it so Ozawa can immediately go home and warm herself up.

“Kugisaki said you already have my LINE ID, so text me anytime.” He waves, “See ya!” and turns his body around-

“Wa-wait, Itadori-kun!” He’s stopped by the slight tug on the end of his jacket so he turns back.

“Are you…um, are you in a hurry? I- I mean, it’s Christmas Eve, s-so my family is having dinner gathering, if you—um, since you’re alone, h-how about you come and have dinner at my house?”

He notices Ozawa fidgets in nervousness and her face blushes even more.

Ah…he gets it. She must be thinking he is lonely by himself when everyone else gathers with their family or their loved ones on Christmas Eve, but feeling too bad to say it directly hence the nervousness.

He appreciates the gesture though. He doesn’t expect his old classmate to be this kind and thoughtful to him even after not meeting for a while.

“There are still a few things I need to buy. Thank you for the offer, though, Ozawa, but that’s okay. I’d hate to impose on your family time. Besides, my guardian is waiting for me at home now so I’m not alone.”

Ozawa widens her eyes, surprise etches clear on her visage.

“Guardian…?”

“Yeah,” he can’t help but smile sheepishly, “He’s from Tokyo. There were a lot of things happened but currently, he’s staying with me at Jiichan’s.”

“I- I see…”

He senses there are more questions rising from Ozawa, yet he doesn’t feel like explaining more. Plus, the more he dawdles, the later he will come home and he doesn’t want to make him wait longer. So he quickly says goodbye once more, turns around, and heads over to his destination.

---

With the laundry bag and another bag of cake boxes decorated with mandatory red and green ribbons on each hand, Yuji runs off like there’s a burning engine under his wet shoes. Off towards the lonely street in the neighborhood he had lived all his life until recently. The streetlights flicker on around him, murky by his own fogging breaths in the chilly late December air. 

He slides the front door carefully and the old wooden door creaks noisily.

Jiichan’s house, or rather, his house now, is an old traditional house you can see anywhere in the countryside in Japan. There’s nothing special to it. It’s just now the house sticks out like a sore thumb being sandwiched between tall buildings of apartments on both the right, left, across from, and behind. Due to Jiichan’s stubbornness in refusing to sell the house for area development no matter how much the municipal officers offered him. Yet, now he couldn’t help but feel thankful for Jiichan’s unyielding determination, thanks to that he still has a place to return to after the school closed.

The current house, however, is very silent for 20.00 o’clock on Christmas Eve. There’s no festive decoration befitting of a Christmas celebration, not even a small Christmas tree anywhere.

For the two of them who live here in this house, December 24th is not a day they want to celebrate in merry. At least not for now, only 1 year after it happened. It’s a much more somber day, for them to reflect and feel gratitude for still being alive despite whatever had happened.

He tiptoes to the sole dimly lit room across the kitchen. The living room. The TV is on but the volume is set to the lowest, only giving out buzzing white noises inside the room.

A silhouette can be vaguely identified under the kotatsu, lying prone on the tatami, his upper body fully covered by the thick kotatsugake (kotatsu’s duvet) with only his snowy-white hair peeking out from the cover.

‘My own snowman…’ He cringes at his own corny thought yet can’t help but feel a little bashful.

The bright light from the TV screen falls into those white hair, causing it to glitter iridescently. Yuji watches in silent awe as the big build curls up awkwardly, trying to cram himself as much as possible under the small kotatsu. Yet his long legs are still sticking out painfully from the other end of the kotatsu. Thankfully clad in thick red Santa-style socks Yuji bought for him for jokes so his pale skin doesn’t get goosebumps from the chill. The slow rise and fall from the owner of the socks telling him he’s dozing off, or already falling into deep slumber.

He skims the dinner spread on the kotatsu, the food all wrapped with either aluminum foil or plastic. Roast chicken, potato salad, miso soup, tamagoyaki, fried salmon with teriyaki sauce, and garlic-sauteed spinach. Just a typical Japanese dinner, yet he’s amazed by how many side dishes the man who is still learning how to cook can even make in the short time Yuji was out running errands to buy their daily necessities.

He gazes up to the corner of the room, where a quite huge altar stands conspicuously. He smiles and feels touched seeing the already burning incense sticks, wafting calming sandalwood fragrant to the whole room. Four sets of offerings on small plates sitting right in front of two framed pictures, consisting of little bits of every side dish they are having for dinner. The only difference in the offering sets is that a small bottle of nihonshu (Japanese sake), is placed in front of Jiichan’s photograph, while next to it a bar of chocolate sits in front of a relatively new addition to the house.

A framed picture of Choso, his aniki.

Today marks the first anniversary of his death.

He smiles wryly in reminiscence, of a certain day over a year ago. Choso never liked having his picture taken. The guy didn’t understand the purpose or the technology and always refused being taken pictures if it wasn’t by him. However, Yuji no longer had his smartphone back then, crushed into smithereens during Shibuya disaster so he had no means or thoughts to do so. So he is forever thankful to Kirara-senpai for tricking the uncooperative Choso into getting his picture taken, out of pretense that he would need an ID photo once this battle was all over and if he wanted to live with Yuji afterward. To which Choso agreed at the speed of his own piercing blood.

It was just a small fun project by his senpai, to commemorate every process they all had undergone during the Preparation period, to have memorabilia to compare once everything was back to normal.

Obviously, almost all of them in the pictures didn’t come out quite the same anymore. And some of them didn’t even come out of the picture at all…

Despite looking very stiff in the picture, it was the only picture he has of his aniki so he tries hard not to regret anything and cherishes the framed picture wholeheartedly.

To the side of Choso, two small stone tablets covered in bronze and engraved with the golden kanji letters of Eso and Kechizu sit side by side, a blood print of Yuji’s signature shines brightly under the letters. The slabs of stone were taken from the road where they both took their last breath.

Before them, two other chocolate bars are placed.

He carefully puts the bags in his arms down and shrugs off his winter jacket. He slides closer to the sleeping figure. He raises his hand and cards it gently through the fluffy snow-white hair. Previously, this man in front of him was a super light sleeper, and there was no way someone else’s presence in the same room wouldn’t wake him up no matter how tired he was unless he pretended to sleep.

Yet, Yuji’s stroking his hair doesn’t even stir him now.

“Sensei…” he caresses the head one last time then nudges the wide shoulder. His sensei sleeps a lot since they moved together into this house. As if his body is making up for all the lost sleep he should’ve had for the past 28 years so Yuji usually doesn’t wake him up when he dozes off at random times of the day. But their dinner will get cold so he has no other choice this time.

“Sensei, wake up.” He nudges harder. Gojo stirs and groans a little then turns abruptly under the kotatsu, his big body hitting the wooden table frame and shaking all the utensils on it.

“whoa whoaa” Yuji’s quick reflexes catch the almost spilling miso soup.

“Yuji?” Gojo sighs between yawning, then rubs his eyes, “whattimeizzit?” he asks in a slurred speech heavy with sleep.

“20.10, Sensei if you’re so sleepy you should’ve slept on the futon. Won’t you catch a cold like this?”

“I was waiting for you and hey, aren’t cha so late? What happened to come back before 19.00??”

“Sorry, sorry, everywhere is packed with people shopping last minute, I swear I was waiting in line for almost an hour just at the cake shop alone, come on, Sensei, up up.” he tries to drag the older up to sit to no avail. He’s purposefully making it difficult.

“What happened to ‘Satoru-san’?”

“Uhh…” he blushes.

“Hey, it’s almost been a year and you’re still not used to calling me that? If your neighbors hear you call me 'Sensei' again don’t blame yourself when the police are out the door waiting with handcuffs to arrest me. Would Yuji like that?”

“As if they can even catch you.”

“Oh, perhaps Yuji likes the view when I’m being handcuffed?” Gojo-sensei leers lewdly.

“Fine, fine, Satoru-san!” He ignores the tingling on his tongue and cheeks so the older man will shut up, “I bought your favorite Kikufuku and strawberry shortcake, do you wanna eat dinner now or sleep some more?” He quickly changes the subject.

At the mention of his favorite sweets, the older man promptly sits upright and eyes the sweet treats in joy.

“Eat.” Satoru-san reaches his hand to the box but he catches him first.

“Not until we finish dinner!”

Satoru-san clicks his tongue. “Meanie, I think I should get some compensation for your being late? I was hungry you know, but I waited so I fell asleep. Aren’t I such a good househusband?”

“Ugh, I said I was sorry?”  

“Then where’s my apology kiss?”

Yuji huffs with no heat, then chuckles. He really can’t win against this older man no matter what.

Satoru-san slides back off the kotatsu so he immediately climbs to his sensei’s lap, circling his arms around the taller’s neck and the other promptly does the same to embrace his waist. He pecks lightly the glossy lips a few times while staring into the icy cerulean blue eyes that always remind him of the glinting surface of a winter lake.

“Thank you for cooking dinner, Satoru-san...” Another peck.

Gojo reacts by holding him tighter, “Then make the kiss extra long, for compensation.”

Yuji just giggles softly, before diving down and slotting their lips together, moving and gliding at familiar and practiced ease, making a wet slurping sound that turns more passionate by the second.

He holds back before they get too immersed in it, pushing the older’s chest a little. It’s not the time to be erotic yet, especially not in front of his Jiichan and big brothers. That is saved up for later in the privacy of their bedroom.

“And thank you for preparing my family’s offerings too.” He kisses the older cheek.

“Yuji’s family is also my family. Plus, it’s the least I can do to show my gratitude for your Jiichan and oniichan, for keeping you stay alive and healthy for me.” The older then trails kisses from his jaw to his neck, with so much gentleness, then ends with a light squeeze on his waist. “But if Yuji is really thankful then give me a massage later. I almost broke this old waist and back bending for so long to cook in your small kitchen. I’m not the strongest anymore, you see.”

“Gojo-sensei and Satoru-san is still the strongest to me.” He pats the older head lovingly, climbs down the older's lap, and starts preparing the table. “Still, I’m amazed you can cook this much! So I’ll definitely give you a good massage later.”

“Promise~? No taking back later?”

“Yeah. But Sensei, I never take back my words, do I?”

“Then I’ll admit not every dish is made in our kitchen,” Gojo says nonchalantly.

Yuji stops the hand that is scooping rice into the bowl, tilting his head to the side, “What? Online deliveries…? But how? Your smartphone is with me, though?”

“More like, Yuji’s neighbors’ kitchen. But you can’t take back your promise!”

“I knew this is too good to be true.” He shakes his head fondly. “By the way, what’s up with the chocolate bars?” He gestures to the offering table in front of Choso, Eso, and Kechizu.

“Well, I don’t know what your oniichan want, right? So I figure if they don’t like it I can just eat them myself later.”

“Seriously Sensei, you…” He is lost for words, “Never mind, you can keep the chocolates, these Kikufuku are for them, then. No Japanese hates mochi—”

“Hey, those are mine! No sharing!”

He puts the bowl of rice in haste in front of Satoru-san and beats him to hide the mochi box. Even if he can’t ever beat his Sensei in strength, he still can beat him in speed.

“Let’s eat, Satoru-san, Itadakimasu!” Yuji dives in first into his dinner and ignores the whiny grumbles from the adult before him.

To his surprise, every dish his lover made tasted perfect to his taste buds. The tamagoyaki is obviously still a little bit too sweet, but it has improved a lot from when the first time he taught him how to cook.

He ravishes all the dishes in front of him with gusto, famished from being outside in cold air for so long. Occasionally, he glances at the altar, making sure his family sees how happy and grateful he is for being alive and to still be together with his beloved, in this moment.

‘Satoru-san cooks the offerings tonight for the first time, so I hope you guys like it.’ He speaks in his mind.

‘Once again, thank you Choso…Aniki, for making this possible for me.’  

It might be just a night illusion out of his longing, but it seems to him as if the stiff expression on Choso’s picture softens a little. Yuji feels the familiar wetness begins to reach his eyes again, so he blinks away. He gives an assuring smile to his older lover, despite knowing his Sensei must’ve already figured it out. Even now, nothing can skip his blue eyes.

---

1 hour later he finds himself trapped under the kotatsu now with his Sensei spooning him from behind. They have tidied up the dishes but then bellies full and bodies warm, they both just suddenly feel sleepy and too lazy to move to their bedroom.

The TV is still on in front of them, showing an endless loop of Christmas carols none of them are watching. The incense sticks have burnt out and the warm puff of breaths on his nape tell him the taller man has dozed off yet again, though whenever Yuji stirs slightly in his embrace, his lover seems to jerk awake for a moment then absentmindedly continue to sniff his neck and nape hard, until soft snores are heard again. He doesn’t know why but his scent seemingly is always able to calm the older, despite he hasn’t even been able to take a shower yet after running around outside all afternoon.

Yuji fidgets with the sleek black smartphone in his palm, his lover’s smartphone to be exact, typing replies to all the messages he receives today.

Ever since they live together here he basically acts as the older’s secretary or manager or something. After refusing Satoru-san’s offer to buy him a new phone, deciding he didn’t need one for the time being so he could focus more on their time together, Satoru-san offered his own gadget to him to use together.

“After all, aren’t we always together from now on? Then if they need to contact me, they can contact me through Yuji, too, right?”

So what started as borrowing the older’s phone to contact his friends has now turned to him managing his lover’s business, anything that may disturb his retirement period has to go through Yuji's permission first. After all, he has learned the hard way the importance of being grateful for the current life he was bestowed at the cost of someone else’s life, his own big brother.

Moreover, he had also given Satoru-san a fair share of scolding, to cherish and put more value towards his life and body. It was a rough time of misunderstandings, arguing back and forth, verbal fights, giving each other a few days of cold shoulder, and trying to understand where each other stood and did what they had done, not long after Satoru-san had woken up from his ‘death’. Eventually, they had learned from their mistakes and pasts and decided to keep moving on together. Their love and bond stronger than ever before.

After finding out they had been together even before the tragedy in Shibuya, no one from the Jujutsu world was against their current arrangement. They all agreed that Gojo Satoru, of all people, deserved some rest. So Yuji had offered his home, determined to teach his Sensei now to live like normal, ordinary people. To live his life to the fullest, value, and enjoy every second, just from mundane things, before they both need to go back to their respective responsibilities as sorcerers in a new Jujutsu era. Determines to come back with a new mindset and attitude. Not just as sensei-student anymore, but colleagues and partners on equal ground. To share their burden with each other and face their worries together, instead of hiding them away from everyone and letting them fester inside into something foul for the soul.

Just after typing a response to the last message from Yuta, he belatedly realizes that he forgot to tell Ozawa that his old LINE ID was trashed. That means if Ozawa did text him to ask for help, it wouldn’t get through unless she asked Kugisaki again. But to outsiders, it would be weird to find out he has the same account as his guardian, right?

When he decides it’s not worth mulling over for now, his lover stirs awake again behind him.

“….Yuji, you’re still talking to Megumi?”

“No. It’s Okkotsu-senpai.” He turns back around, facing the older.

Satoru-san yawns disgracefully. His older lover seems to have gradually caught ordinary old man mannerisms since he got here, which always becomes a refreshing and cute sight for him.

Before this all, Gojo-sensei, despite all his frivolities and pranks, was always the epitome of elegance, cleverness, power and strength, and absolute coolest of a man to his eyes. Someone he could never walk at the same level with. Yet, all of these little bits of common people’s quirks suddenly become very natural for him. As if he's always been just the next-door-neighbor Satoru-oniisan he has known all his life and now decided to live together, instead of the Gojo Satoru-sensei, the richest and strongest sorcerer of modern era.

“What did he say, is everything okay at the Gojo residence?” Satoru-san asks languidly, there’s no real concern reflected in his tone.

“Apparently, he’s complaining again why he should cover for the Gojo family’s New Year’s Eve gathering instead of you.”

Satoru-san just laughs out loud, “That means he’s alright. Anyway, Yuji, what about my massage?”

“Then let’s go to bed. By the way, can I take a quick shower first?”

“Eeh? I’m too lazy and in pain to roll out the futon. My back is still hurt. Let’s just do it here. And now.” The older yawns again.

His cheeks instantly heat up with the implicit meaning.

“You know exactly we won’t stop at just the massage, right??” he hisses.

“So what? Of all the rooms in this house, we’ve never done it here, right? Yuji-kun since this is the most romantic night for couples, let’s spice things up!”

“Are you nuts?! Not in front of my family!!”

“I’m sure they won’t mind. I prepared their offerings, didn't I? Also, I let you call me Sensei again to your heart’s content, just like the old days, since Yuji seems to love it the most.”

“Ugh!” He looks away from his lover’s sleepy smug face out of embarrassment and his gaze accidentally falls on the altar again.

Like before, he must be hallucinating because now it seems like Choso’s face in the framed picture is more pissed than before.

Suddenly feeling too self-conscious out of delusions of being watched by his family, he struggles out of the older’s embrace and stands up. “Whatever. You wanna sleep here then stay, I’ll go to bed alone then.” He quickly struts out of the living room, away from the altar.

“Eh?? Yuji, what about my massage?? No take-back, remember!”

Yuji ignores the whine and slides the bedroom door loudly, clicking the door lock for emphasis.

“Yuji?!!”

“Bedroom!” he yells from inside the locked room then promptly hears the urgent sound of footsteps followed by a muffled crash and thud thud thud sound of something (or someone) heavy falling on the floor.

“Ouch oww, okay okaay, I’m comin', Yuji, Sensei’s coming~!”  

Chapter Text

Part 1

Yuji always says to others, "Jiichan did it this/that way, but Jiichan said that" etc, etc, so when Satoru starts living together in Jiichan's house, Satoru subconsciously begins picking up old man habits from Wasuke despite never actually meeting the man, just because Yuji keeps saying to him,

"No, Sensei! but Jiichan and I, we always do it like this."

"But, Satoru-san, you should say it that way."

"It's supposed to be put here, not there!" Everything in this house is according to his Jiichan's memories.

When their friends and other sorcerers who visit them begin pointing out that Satoru is starting to act like an old man, he's surprised.

He used to be offended when Yuji called him old, but he finds he doesn't mind being compared to Wasuke because he thinks Wasuke must be a good parent for raising such a good kid like Yuji. 

***

Part 2

After living together in Jiichan's house in Sendai, to live an ordinary life and be mindful about their new direction in life together, Yuji and Satoru make a compromise that no using Infinity other than on missions (which is rarely taken during this rest period), no using RCT other than when accidentally bleeding while doing house chores. All of these so Satoru can rest his body and start letting nature take its natural course, so he can relax and doesn't have to exert effort and be on guard all the time. 

Satoru finally knows the pain of stubbing his pinky toe on the leg of the low tables after over a decade of having never experienced that. He keeps crashing his forehead into the top of the cabinet when cooking or when he goes through the door because the Itadori house isn't designed for someone as tall and big as him.

But his name won't be "Gojo Satoru" if he isn't trying to win something from this handicap, so since he isn't supposed to use RCT then he asks Yuji to heal the bruises every time with Yuji's healing kissy-kissy-pain-pain-go-away. He asks for that to his forehead every time as an excuse to make Yuji keep kissing him, so sometimes he even crashes his head on purpose against something hard, the door frames, the headboard, the hanging cabinets, and keeps blaming that their house is too small.

Yuji just laughs his whine off and kisses him every time.

His latest stunt is to keep falling face-first onto the tatami mat because he keeps stumbling over the small things like game consoles, remote controls, that he himself scatters around on the floor after a lazy afternoon, even after Yuji always chides him all the time to put the things back where they should.

Even after repeatedly showing his Yuji how uncool he is now that Infinity no longer protects him ,and he always makes clumsy mistakes, Yuji still loves him unconditionally.