Chapter Text
At nine years old, Gojo Satoru had already learned that he hated clan events. He was forced to wear traditional clothing, told to be quiet, told to suppress his cursed technique, even as he was supposed to keep up his barrier as much as he could. It was exhausting and annoying and so, so, boring.
He grimaced as his mother tugged him along, to sit in front of yet another panel of old people who liked to talk super slow.
Satoru winced as someone turned on extra lights. His Six Eyes had always given him headaches, but instead of getting better as he got older, it was almost like they were getting worse.
“Mother,” he whined. “Tell them to turn the lights down.”
He had also learned, at nine years old, that he could mostly get whatever he wanted. The only exception seemed to be that he could never avoid the clan events.
Lights dim, he looked around with vaguely more interest. If he was lucky, sometimes the clan events included other sorcerer children. Last one, he’d managed to find some Zenin kid and goad him into a spar—and promptly kick his butt. He wouldn’t mind doing that again.
A small figure was behind one of the higher-ups, glowing with a strange cursed energy. Satoru tugged himself free of his mother’s hold. At her protest, he pressed a hand towards her, showing her that he’d raised his Infinity, the barrier to keep him from getting murdered, or whatever she was currently worried about.
He darted after the small figure. It was a young girl. She was carefully carrying a used tea tray. A servant, perhaps?
“Hey!”
She jumped. The tea set went flying, delicate china shattering as it hit the ground.
The girl didn’t say anything, but the look on her face struck Satoru so much that he stopped moving, staring at her. She was so afraid.
Even through her fear, he could sense it. A weak cursed energy, but pretty. Golden. Different.
“Utahime! You careless little—oh. Master Gojo.”
Satoru stuck out his chest, staring up at the old man. “What?” he asked belligerently.
“I am sorry if this brat bothered you,” he said. His smile was slimy and made Satoru want to kick his ankles. “I will be sure she makes proper apologies.”
Satoru hadn’t quite known what to expect, hearing that, but he didn’t expect the sudden yank on the girl’s hair, the kick to the back of her legs to get her to kneel in front of him. Her knees were on the shattered china.
The little girl whined quietly, head bowed, but she didn’t fight.
Satoru had been annoyed plenty of times in his life. He had never felt so truly angry before.
“Get away from her!” he shouted. When the man didn’t move he surged forward, feeling his cursed energy rising with his emotions. The old man backed off, allowing Satoru enough room to grab the girl off the floor, getting her away from the broken shards. He glanced at her knees, frowning as he saw blood.
“Master Gojo, you shouldn’t touch her, she—”
“Satoru! What is going on?” His mother rounded the corner, eyes wild.
Satoru pointed. “He’s a bully!”
The old man stiffened. “I was merely admonishing this attendant for failing in her duties, ma’am.”
Satoru sneered. “Bully,” he said. Not that he’d ever met a bully in real life, given his limited exposure to schools and the real world, but he’d seen enough television to know what it was. He pulled the girl closer to him, surprised that she easily allowed herself to be manipulated, head still hanging. “You stay away from her.”
The old man’s expression went from its surprise and anger back to its slimy one. “Of course. It won’t happen again, young master. Come, Utahime, back to your duties.”
“No.”
Satoru felt some satisfaction from the way the man’s face dropped. “What?”
“Satoru—“ his mother started.
“You’re mean to her. She should come with us.”
Both adults began outraged diatribes.
But Gojo Satoru knew that he could get what he wanted. He ignored them, turning to the girl.
“Utahime, right? I’m Satoru.” He made a face, considering. Maybe the girl didn’t want to come with him. But he wanted to see her again. “Do you want to come with me?”
Large brown eyes lifted to meet his. They flickered to the old man before focusing intently on him. Satoru held his breath. It felt like she was searching his soul, like her eyes had Six Eyes, not his.
She nodded, a slow, deliberate motion.
“Satoru, don’t be ridiculous! I’m sure this girl’s parents will refuse.”
Satoru tucked his arm more firmly around Utahime’s. “Well, they’ll let her spend her time with me, won’t they? So she won’t have to work for these old guys anymore.”
The old man scowled. “Actually, she is an orphan. She’s a ward of the elders.”
His mother was looking a little frazzled, the way she did when Satoru had blown up a jungle gym set. “Satoru, please, don’t be silly. This girl has duties, and you have your destiny.”
“She’s with me,” he said firmly. “It’s time to go home.”
The adults began arguing again. Satoru ignored them, turning to pull Utahime along with him. Her hand was a little sweaty in his.
“Don’t worry, Utahime,” he said confidently. “I’m gonna be the strongest, so I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to worry about those old geezers anymore.”
She made a strange snorting noise. Satoru glanced back at her, seeing her fight down a smile.
“You hungry? The food here sucks. We can get some takeout on the way home, though.”
She shrugged. Satoru frowned but saw his mother approaching.
“We’ll get food,” he said decisively. “Come on, the car is this way.”
“Satoru! We are not done talking about this!”
“Yes, we are,” he said. “I told you, that she’s with me.”
“I’ll make a deal with you,” his mother said. Her voice sounded firm, like she did about the clan meetings. Satoru eyed her warily.
“What?”
“I’ll let you keep this girl, let her do lessons with you. If you promise that you won’t let her be a distraction. You’ll work hard, you’ll train. You’ll be the strongest.”
Satoru rolled his eyes. “I was gonna do that anyways.”
“Satoru, listen to me. Do we have a deal?” Her sharp gaze met his.
“Deal,” he said.
He felt the girl’s fingers curled against his elbow. She was a taller than him, but she cowered in a way that made her seem small.
Satoru smiled at her encouragingly. “Let’s go! Do you like McDonalds?”
Utahime shrugged helplessly. Satoru hesitated. “Look, you do want to come with me, right?”
She nodded again.
Still, she hadn’t said anything. Satoru frowned. “What? I won’t hurt you.”
“Hey. Girl.” His mother nudged her and she skittered back like a frightened animal. “Can you talk?”
She looked between the two of them, panic lurking in her eyes.
She opened her mouth.
“Ew!” Satoru gagged. “Gross! Where’s the rest of your tongue!”
She frowned and shoved at him, crossing her arms.
“Now you don’t want her to come with us, right?” His mother tugged on his shoulder. “Come along, Satoru.”
“Why not?” Satoru wrinkled his nose. “It’s gross, but she can stay with us.”
“Boy, what am I going to do with you?”
The girl was staring at him. Eyes wide with an unknown emotion.
“That must suck, not having a tongue. Can you taste food?”
Utahime did a ‘so-so’ motion with her hand.
“Well, I’m starving! Let’s see if you like McDonalds, okay?”
Utahime nodded, a small smile on her face. Satoru felt proud that he’d put it there. He had a strange thought that she hadn’t had a chance to smile much before. He dragged her into the car after him.
He could hear his mother on the phone, next to their chauffeur. She was complaining about Utahime already, probably talking to the housekeeper, or maybe his aunties.
“How old are you?” he asked.
She lifted up both hands, and then dropped all but two.
“Huh. Three years older than me.” Satoru looked out the car at the wrong moment, a flash of headlights in his eyes. He groaned, covering his eyes before shaking it off. Utahime was watching him, concern in her eyes. “It’s fine. Cursed energy,” he mumbled. “You have pretty cursed energy.”
She gestured, but Satoru couldn’t figure out what it meant. He tapped at his lip.
“Mother! What do people who can’t talk do to talk?”
She craned her head back at him. “Well, if she’s not illiterate, she could write to you. Or she could learn sign language. But you’d have to learn it too.”
“Find us a teacher,” he demanded.
“I told you Satoru, you can’t let her interfere with your training, or—“
“It won’t!” Satoru let some of his cursed energy trickle out, stifling the car. His mother didn’t have cursed energy of her own, but she could sense it. He smiled at the way she cringed. “Get us a teacher!”
“Fine,” she said.
Utahime grabbed at his sleeve. Satoru paused, confused. She seemed upset.
“What?”
She shook her head. Her eyes once more went to his mother. Maybe she was scared of her.
“It’ll be okay,” he promised. “Just like I told you.”
She relaxed a bit, but rolled her eyes at him nonetheless. It was strange. Satoru hadn’t had anyone make fun of him for most of his life. Yet here she was, a nobody, pushing back against him. He supposed that any other kid would be annoyed, but it was strangely exciting.
“I think we’ll be best friends,” he announced. He could sense his mother’s discontent, but none of it mattered with the way Utahime’s eyes softened as she looked at him. He grinned, kicking his feet against the seat.