Chapter Text
Utahime carried on as she always did.
Mornings began at the shrine, her dance steady and familiar movements she had practiced for as long as she could remember. From there, it was the train to Kyoto Jujutsu High, the sound of students calling her name, the long days filled with lessons and missions. It wasn’t exciting or glamorous, but it was hers. A sorcerer’s life rarely allowed for simplicity, and she took quiet satisfaction in the small routines that made hers feel steady.
It had been a few months since her engagement. There had been no ceremony, no exchanges of affection just a decision made between families, accepted with the same composure she brought to everything else. She and her fiancé had met once or twice, spoken politely, and that was all. There was no spark, no real connection, but she didn’t expect one.
Born into a long line of shrine maidens, duty had always been her anchor. Marriage was another step along that path, something inevitable.
As long as her future husband was a sorcerer, someone who understood the demands of their work, that was enough. She valued her position, her students, her role in the world far more than fleeting emotions. Everything else was secondary.
Three months into the engagement, news came of his death.
A mission gone wrong. A first-grade sorcerer mistakenly assigned to exorcise a special-grade curse. He hadn’t made it back. The words were delivered with the usual solemnity reserved for their kind, and Utahime received them the same way quiet, still, and unflinching.
It was a loss, and she recognized it as such. Whether love was involved or not, he had been a fellow sorcerer, and in their world, every death meant another light gone out. She felt the weight of it not grief, exactly, but respect.
She performed the required rites, handled the formalities, and offered prayers for his spirit. No tears, no public mourning. It wasn’t detachment; it was understanding. Loss was part of the life she had chosen, and she carried it the same way she carried everything else with dignity and calm.
A few weeks later, she returned fully to her duties.The days moved forward as they always did: teaching, missions, evenings at the shrine. Her world didn’t feel empty, just… quiet. Balanced again. Whatever ache lingered wasn’t from love lost, but from another reminder that nothing in their world ever truly stayed
You didn’t summon Gojo Satoru you requested his presence, even if you were one of the higher-ups or a member of his own clan. And when the latest request came, he knew exactly what it was about. Nothing new.
They’d been on him since he was sixteen, ever since he’d unlocked Limitless and the Six Eyes and the elders had realized just what kind of power they were housing. Marriage proposals had been dropping on his doorstep ever since, each one promising alliance, stability, heirs. He’d been dodging them for years with the same lazy grin and a handful of excuses.
Lately, though, it had gotten harder to shrug off. He was in his late twenties now, and the clan was getting restless. They wanted security; they wanted an heir. He, of course, didn’t care. He’d never pictured that kind of life for himself never pictured anyone in it long enough for it to matter.
So when the higher-ups and his clan gathered and presented him with a neat list of potential brides, he knew he was cornered. His father spoke of duty and bloodlines; his mother, exhausted by years of argument, simply pleaded with him to give in for once.
He spent hours refusing, deflecting, cracking jokes to hide the irritation that gnawed at him. But the longer it went, the clearer it became that they wouldn’t stop. Eventually he exhaled, dropped the fight, and said flatly, “Do whatever you want. Pick someone. I don’t care who.”
And just like that, the decision was made. His parents chose one of the candidates, and Gojo Satoru The Honored One was engaged.
He had no interest in meeting the girl. There was no point. Love had stopped being an option for him a long time ago. Whenever he let himself think about it, the image that came wasn’t the one he was supposed to see it was Utahime.
But she was promised to someone else now, and so those thoughts went where the rest of his impossible wishes lived buried deep. Whatever came next would be duty, not desire.
When news reached him of Utahime’s fiancé’s death, he went still for a long minute. He hadn’t known the man, but he knew what a loss like that meant in their world. His first impulse was to drop by Kyoto, to check on her in person, but he stopped himself. The last thing she needed was him showing up. She’d probably snap at him.
He settled for a message instead: I hope you’re doing okay, Utahime.
Her reply came hours later: a simple Thank you.
It was brief, polite, and exactly what he expected. Still, he caught himself staring at the screen longer than he should have before tucking the phone away and telling himself to move on.
The engagement fell apart long before the rings were exchanged.
For weeks, the clan that had sought to align themselves with the Gojo family had grown audacious demanding more power, more access, more control. They wanted the Six Eyes to be theirs in name, their daughter little more than a key to a throne that never belonged to them.
It wasn’t about marriage anymore. It was about possession.
Gojo didn’t even bother pretending interest. The girl wasn’t at fault; she was simply born into the wrong ambition. But her family’s greed had begun to show teeth, and even his parents usually indulgent to a fault had started to lose patience. When the clan made the mistake of trying to dictate the terms of his post-marriage duties, the matter ended quietly but decisively.
The engagement was broken.
And Gojo was free again.
For a while.
He knew how this world worked. In the eyes of the elders, freedom was a phase an interlude before the next political offering. He had expected some peace before the next attempt. Instead, less than a month later, another request appeared, this one stamped with the seal of both his clan and the higher-ups.
He didn’t even bother reading it in full. The meaning was clear enough.
Another meeting. Another discussion of “suitable partners.” Another attempt to bind him under the guise of duty.
He could refuse. He always could. No one in their right mind would stand against him, and everyone knew it. But lately, even his own clan had begun to speak in cautious tones about “responsibility,” “stability,” and “legacy.” The words dripped with the same disguised greed he’d grown up surrounded by.
So when the request came, he went.
Warped straight to the sterile, suffocating hall where they held such meetings walls too pristine, air too heavy.
And then he paused.
A ripple brushed against his senses familiar, steady, quietly contained.
Utahime?
He frowned, scanning the energy again just to be sure. There was no mistaking it. Her cursed energy always felt like that calm on the surface, but with a steel current running underneath. It didn’t belong here. Not in a place filled with vultures cloaked as leaders.
What was she doing here?
For a moment, the tension in his shoulders eased, a wry smile tugging at his lips. Maybe the meeting wouldn’t be a total waste. If she was here on some assignment, or to deliver a report, perhaps he could catch her afterward. Maybe even convince her to stay for a drink. It had been months since he’d last seen her too long.
He exhaled, half-dreading, half-anticipating what came next.
Because if Utahime Iori was in the same room as the higher-ups…
then the day was about to turn far more interesting than he’d expected.
When Gojo entered the council chamber, his eyes out of habit landed on her.
Utahime.
A small smirk tugged at his lips. He had missed seeing her. She looked even more radiant than before, if that was possible. The light hit her hair just right; her posture, her calm expression steady, polite, and composed even in a room full of predators.
If she was here, it meant she’d be sitting through the marriage discussions. Strange, but he didn’t think too much of it. His gaze lingered a moment longer behind his blindfold subtle enough that no one noticed.
Across the room, Utahime had already sensed him. His cursed energy was unmistakable vast, electric, the kind of presence that filled every inch of space even when silent. The closer he came, the heavier her chest felt. She knew why the higher-ups had summoned her today. They were going to discuss her marriage. And now, Gojo Satoru of all people had walked straight into that conversation.
Her pulse quickened. Was he here on unrelated business? Maybe. Hopefully. She refused to meet his gaze directly when he entered. There were too many eyes on them.
Gojo would’ve taken any seat far from the front if one of the elders hadn’t spoken up.
“Satoru, you can sit beside Utahime.”
Both their heads turned slightly at that. A strange pause filled the air as he walked toward her, every step echoing louder than necessary.
They sat side by side her posture straight, his loose and deceptively casual.
He turned his head slightly, voice soft but teasing.
“Long time no see, Utahime.”
She sighed, barely glancing his way.
“Gojo. Hello to you too.”
His grin widened beneath the blindfold, clearly amused by her restraint. He was about to speak again when one of the higher-ups interrupted, voice slick and smiling.
“Good. You two get along well.”
Utahime stiffened. The phrasing was too deliberate. Gojo’s smile faltered, curiosity replacing amusement.
“Hmm? Of course. We’ve known each other since Jujutsu High.”
“Yes, we’re well aware,” another replied smoothly. “Which makes things easier for all of us.”
Gojo frowned. Utahime already knew where this was heading; she could read between political lines better than anyone. He, on the other hand, was waiting for the reveal.
“I’m sure you both know why we’ve called you here,” one of the elders began.
Utahime said nothing. She wanted to see the look on Gojo’s face when the words finally landed.
“We’ve come to the conclusion,” another continued, “that the Iori and Gojo clans should become one. It will be beneficial for the future of the Jujutsu world. Satoru you’re already the strongest. And with Utahime’s technique to enhance your power, you would be unstoppable. Of course only if you both wish it.”
A lie. Everyone in the room knew it.
Gojo’s smile vanished completely. The words rang in his head they want me to marry Utahime.
Utahime closed her eyes for a brief second. So this was it. Duty dressed as diplomacy. Her clan had been waiting for an opportunity like this minor as they were, aligning with the Gojo name would secure them status for generations. But at what cost? She sneaked a glance at him. He looked… different. Older, perhaps. Sharper. And even in anger, he was beautiful.
What would it even be like, living with him?
She caught herself. He’d drive me insane within a week.
Then Gojo spoke quiet but cold, his tone a blade.
“Are you all out of your minds? You went and found Utahime? You want me to marry her because her technique will boost mine?”
Utahime’s breath caught. He sounded angry. At the idea of marrying her? The thought stung, absurdly.
But then
“She’s not a tool. Not for me, and not for you to use.”
She blinked. That… she hadn’t expected. He was angry for her.
“Now, Gojo,” one of the elders interjected, “it would be a marriage of convenience. Good for everyone. And since you’re already friends, it should be easier.”
Gojo stood abruptly, chair scraping back.
“That’s enough. It won’t happen.”
And just like that, he walked out.
The room stayed painfully silent.
Utahime remained seated, expression unreadable. Gakuganji’s deep voice broke the quiet.
“Utahime, think about what this means for your clan. Convince him.”
She drew a slow breath.
“I understand what it means for my clan,” she said evenly. “But if you think you can bind Gojo by using me, you’re mistaken. He won’t be tied down like that and I won’t let myself be used against him.”
She didn’t know why she said it maybe because he’d done the same for her.
Without waiting for a response, she rose and bowed politely.
“If that’s all, I’ll excuse myself.”
“We’ll wait for your word,” someone murmured behind her.
She didn’t respond. She was already walking out.
The courtyard air was cooler, quieter, as she followed the faint trace of his cursed energy. She spotted him easily long strides cutting across the garden toward the main gate.
He stepped into the courtyard, the late afternoon air cooler, cleaner. He was halfway down the steps when he heard it.
“Gojo, wait.”
He stopped.
Her voice was steady maybe too steady. When he turned, Utahime was standing a few paces behind him, her expression unreadable. For a second, neither of them spoke. Then she walked forward, her shoes crunching softly against the stone.
“I understand why you walked out,” she said at last. “I would have, too.”
He tilted his head, smirking. “Yeah? Even after they told you who your lucky groom was supposed to be?”
“I didn’t know it was you,” she admitted. “They said they’d found someone for me, but I didn’t expect…” She hesitated, looking over his shoulder. “I didn’t expect it to be you. I would’ve said no.”
Gojo’s smile didn’t fade, but something in it twisted. “Ouch. I didn’t know you hated the idea of marrying me that much.”
Utahime crossed her arms, fighting back irritation. “It’s not that. I just never thought they’d pick someone like me for the great Satoru Gojo.”
He smirked slightly, “Don’t think too low of yourself, Utahime.”
“I’m not,” she said quickly. “But you’ve made it clear before I’m just a weakling compared to you.”
Gojo huffed. “Everyone’s weak compared to me. It’s not just you.”
“Gee, thanks, jerk.”
Now she was irritated, and his grin grew wider at the sight.
“Is that all you wanted to say?” he teased. “Call me a jerk and storm off again?”
She took a slow breath, her fingers curling at her sides. “Gojo… be serious for once. Just listen to me.”
That made him pause. The teasing flicker in his expression softened into something quieter. “All right. I’m listening.”
Utahime met his gaze or the strip of fabric that covered it and steadied her voice. “I think… we should do it.”
The words dropped between them like a stone in still water.
For a heartbeat, Gojo didn’t move. Then, slowly, he reached up and tugged down his blindfold. His eyes bright blue, almost too much locked on her face, searching.
“You’re serious about this,” he said quietly. Not a question a confirmation.
“Yes.” Her voice was even, but her pulse thundered.
He took a step closer. “And why would you want that to happen?”
Utahime drew in a breath, forcing herself to hold her ground. “Think of it as a marriage of convenience. Between two colleagues.”
He didn’t respond right away. His gaze held hers unblinking, electric and she realized how long it had been since she’d last seen his eyes. They were still devastatingly clear, still unreadable, but there was something tired in them too. Human.
Gojo’s heart was pounding faster than he wanted to admit. He’d told himself he’d stopped thinking about her that way years ago that whatever he had felt for her had been buried under duty, sarcasm, and distance. But hearing her now, so calm, so sure it rattled something in him.
Why?
Why her, and why now?
She shifted under his gaze, fidgeting. “Well, Gojo?” she asked quietly. “Are you going to say something, or just stare at me?”
He exhaled, almost laughing but it came out rougher than he meant. “You really think this would work? You and me?”
“I think it will benefit us both,” Utahime said carefully. “I was almost married to another sorcerer once, but he met his unfortunate end. I was fine with the idea back then fine with anyone, really. But this time…” she hesitated, eyes shifting away from him, “…it’s you.”
Her voice trailed off. She looked anywhere but at him, a flush creeping up her neck that she tried her best to ignore. “I mean, I’ve known you for over ten years, Gojo. You’d be good for my clan, too. We wouldn’t have the upper houses breathing down our necks anymore. And in return…” she hesitated again, heat prickling at her cheeks, “…you’d get a wife. And maybe your clan would finally stop bothering you.”
Gojo let her words hang between them. He didn’t answer right away. The idea wasn’t entirely absurd marrying someone he actually knew might be easier. He tried not to think about the word love; he knew better than to chase something that probably wasn’t meant for him, not with Utahime.
“My clan wants an heir,” he said quietly. “Eventually. That’s why they keep pressing me.”
The word heir sent a flush straight to Utahime’s face. It was obvious what that meant that they would eventually have to… She cut the thought off as fast as it came, but not before a mortifying image of the two of them in bed flickered across her mind. She nearly gasped aloud. What the hell am I thinking? This is Gojo! The man who spent half his time teasing her just to see her scowl.
“I mean… we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” she stammered, trying to steady her voice. “If you’re okay with it.”
Gojo blinked at her, momentarily thrown. Not only was she agreeing to the marriage, but she wasn’t even opposed to the idea of a child someday?
“Utahime,” he said after a pause, brow furrowing, “I don’t know what’s going on right now, but are you all right? Did a curse get to you?” His tone was more genuine concern than sarcasm.
Her irritation sparked immediately. “Gojo, I’m serious! We just help each other out. And if… a child is born out of this, then it’s a win-win, right? At least for you.”
He blinked again, caught between disbelief and amusement. “Do you even want a child with me? You hate me.”
Utahime froze. Hate? She’d never thought of it that way. She tolerated him. She was annoyed by him. But she didn’t hate him.
“I don’t hate you, Gojo!” she shot back. “I just hate that you keep teasing me all the damn time!”
If her proposal had surprised him, this hit harder. His eyes widened slightly before a slow, quiet laugh escaped him.
“Well, this is news to me,” he said. “I always thought you did.”
She crossed her arms. “Well, you thought what you wanted to think. I never told you I do!”
His smirk returned, familiar and irritatingly fond. “Think about it, Utahime it won’t be easy living with me.”
“I’m well aware,” she said dryly. “If we do go ahead with this, I need you to be more serious about it. So what do you say?”
Gojo was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice had shifted calm, sincere, stripped of its usual arrogance.
“Utahime,” he said slowly, “you should know better than anyone I won’t be used in any political matter as a weapon.”
That stopped her cold. She’d never seen him as a weapon and the thought of being used against him made her stomach twist.
“Gojo,” she said, her voice firming, “I respect the higher-ups and follow most of their decisions the ones that don’t hurt anyone. But if they think they can use me to bind you down my husband then they don’t know what’s coming their way.”
Gojo stared at her. Of all the things she could’ve said, that was the last he expected. She’d go against the higher-ups for him? And the way she’d said my husband something in his chest pulled tight. The word sounded too natural coming from her mouth.
He found himself smirking again, softer this time. “Utahime… you’d do that for me?”
She huffed, exasperated. “Gojo, before I change my mind, please take this seriously.”
“I am taking it seriously,” he said at once, expression straightening.
She met his gaze then really met it and for a heartbeat, something fluttered deep in her chest.
He was still watching her, expression unreadable. When she finally found her voice, it was quiet. “So… what’s your answer?”
She waited, trying not to look as nervous as she felt.
Gojo held her gaze for several seconds before he exhaled softly. Then, with a faint hum, he turned off Infinity and extended a hand toward her. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s do this, Utahime. A marriage of convenience.”
A small smile curved her lips as she placed her hand in his. His palm was large, warm steady and, somehow, it made her feel at peace.