The place, date, her signature… there, done! Putting her pen aside, Utahime checked her watch: yes, almost time to wrap things up! She stretched her back while feasting her eyes on the serenity of the snow covered school gardens outside her window - ah, it was good for the soul. The calming view was the reason she continued to sit with her back to the door even though that meant her students could more easily prank her by sneaking up and scaring her to death.

Not today though. It was Saturday, the school was blissfully deserted. Gakuganji had taken a long weekend and the students were either visiting their families or friends. With no interruptions, Utahime had gotten a lot of work done, her "to do"-pile was considerably diminished. A series of neatly labeled letters lay on her desk, the only thing needed to send them on their way were stamps: they had run out. She'd send someone to the post office on Monday to get some - or would go herself depending on the weather. She liked to take little walks during the day.

Her phone began to buzz - a glance at the display revealed it was Shoko.

"Hey!" Utahime answered happily. "You're back?"

"Hey babe," Shoko sounded a little out of breath, the sound of her pumps click-clacking on concrete, "I'm calling to wish you a very Happy Birthday and only the best for the future!"

"Thanks," Utahime smiled.

"I got back two days ago but man, I've been so busy ever since!"

"Oh," Utahime shifted the phone to the other ear, "trouble?"

"You can say that," Shoko sighed and Utahime heard the sound of a lighter being lit. "February is always a high-activity month. People get depressed because of the darkness and the bad weather and curses multiply."

And what did Gojo do this time? Utahime waited for Shoko to start rant-raving about a certain Sorcerer's misdeeds but Shoko just sucked on her cigarette.

"Any of ours hurt?" Utahime asked casually.

"Nanami," Shoko coughed. "Almost got his arm sliced off but I fixed him. He'll be as good as new in no time."

"Oh thank god," Utahime exhaled.

"So it's true you sent Nanami a gift basket for Christmas?" Shoko's voice suddenly sounded suspicious.

"Er…," how the hell had that become public knowledge?!

"You know he's like... so much younger than you? Practically a baby?"

"Oh, I just wanted to thank him for being very helpful and kind," Utahime felt how she turned red. Why did she turn red? It wasn't a big thing to send someone a gift basket! "It's really nothing more." Besides, their age difference was only 4 years, which wasn't that much. And Nanami came across as so mature and responsible, anyone who didn't know his real age would guess he was in his late thirties.

"Helpful and kind?" Shoko sounded much too intrigued. "Do tell."

Utahime swallowed nervously. "Earlier in December, I found myself in a bit of trouble and…"

"So it was you!" Now Shoko sounded shocked. "Gurl, why pretend to be Gojo to get Nanami's number?! I would have given it to you with no questions asked!"

"What? What do you mean?" Oh no, and now she was lying to her best friend, her face as red as a tomato. This was bad. Had she really believed she had dodged this bullet so easily? Jujutsu Sorcerers were terrible gossips, they smelled secrets from a mile away and didn't stop until they had unearthed all of them!

"I don't think Nanami is the right guy for you," Shoko was on the move again, her shoes continuing to make energetic staccato sounds. "His world view is much too depressing. You need someone with… with more spice."

"I'm seeing someone," Utahime quickly interjected to end the topic. "No reason to worry about Nanami, Shoko."

"Oh… a non-sorcerer again?"

"Yes," Utahime began to put some leftover documents on her desk into order.

"Ah, good," Shoko said. "Do you have time to meet up soon? It's been ages. Next week for example? I'm free on Thursday."

"Thursday? That should work!" If she told Gakuganji to take the extra work and shove it up his old wrinkly ass. "Can you come to Kyoto?"

"Not likely, a foreign doctor is scheduled to visit me in the afternoon. Can you come to Tokyo? Or is it too much of a hassle? Oh wait, I could ask Nanami to pick you up? I bet you he'd be eager, he has a super fast new car he likes to impress women with."

"I thought he's far too young for me?"

"Well," Shoko laughed throatily, "I'm thinking the more the merrier and you deserve all the fun."

Utahime almost asked after Gojo then but managed to hold her tongue. It wasn't like the Jujutsu World wasn't always abuzz with Gojo news: There was the story about him reducing a well-known shopping mall in the middle of Tokyo to nothing but rubble when exorcising a Special Grade curse, giving the Higher-ups a massive headache. Or the one about him dressing up as a woman and pretending to be his own cousin to fool Yaga. The other one about him insisting his students had to go see Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress on the night of its release for educational purposes - and him making the school pay for all the seats in the movie theater so they had "the necessary privacy" to discuss the important lessons (of which there were none, of course). Or her favorite one so far: when he had just disappeared last month without telling anyone where he was, not answering any phone calls. Luckily, he was spotted drinking Mai Tais on the beach in Hawaii before the world had a chance to end and was cajoled to return back to work by, who else? Nanami.

No need to see him to know he was okay and properly restored to his old, annoying self.

"Have you seen Gojo lately?" Shoko asked, making Utahime freeze in mortification. Why would her friend ask her that? Could she read her mind?

"N… no?" Her voice sounded too high. She had not seen Gojo for 72 days. During which she had done everything to forget about him and nothing had helped. She even dreamt about him looking at her. Just looking. But that was enough to make her wake up feeling like she wanted to commit a lustful sin.

"Hm," Shoko said, inhaling smoke.

"W… why?" And now she was stammering? Good grief.

"I hear he hasn't shut up talking about you. I wonder what that is about?"

"What?!" At least her indignation was genuine. Gojo was talking about her? That wasn't good.

"He keeps asking me questions about you, not that they make any sense. Well, the guy was always weird but lately, he has gotten so much weirder. But I guess that's how it is! Jujutsu Sorcerers are all insane, present company excluded."

Utahime laughed. She didn't think she was insane at all and Shoko was pretty normal too… also, Nanami. The rest of the men though, ha! One of the reasons she preferred to go out with non-sorcerers. Far less drama.

"Okay, gotta go now," Shoko sighed, "more work to do! You have a nice evening, gurl, okay? And I can't wait to see you next week!"

Utahime put the phone into the back pocket of her black jeans. The conversation had put her on edge, her heart was beating much too fast. Why was Gojo talking about her? She had kept her mouth shut like she had promised him - for his protection and, frankly, her own.

Not that she didn't have questions… oh, so many! But Gojo Clan business was not something she wanted to ever be caught up in again. Freaks.

With a sigh, she cleaned up her desk, checked her watch again and decided to leave early. She'd just take the long route to the train station so she wouldn't have to wait too long.

"Uta-hiiiiime," Gojo purred right into her ear.

She yelped and swiveled around with a stapler in her hand, instinctively defending herself and smashing it against… his Infinity, not his head of course. It broke in two and fell to the floor with a sad thud. Gakuganji wouldn't be pleased, she had just bought it on school expenses last week.

"Oh, I see you missed me too," Gojo grinned.

He was standing much too close, tall and radiant, his dark glasses reflecting her image. His hair was combed into artful submission today and he was wearing a light blue cashmere sweater instead of the usual black - he looked damn good but who was she kidding, that was why he had put it on.

"Gojo," she groaned, not trying to ogle the spot where the cashmere was a little tight across his chest and nipples could be seen. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't know it was her birthday, did he? Or did he.

"I've come to visit you," he declared happily, looking her up and down with unabashed appreciation.

"Why?" she asked, trying to bring some distance between them but her bum was already touching the edge of the desk. She was wearing jeans and a favorite red knitted sweater today instead of her usual work outfit, nothing fancy, but for whatever reason, it made her feel half-naked.

"Maybe to discuss the sister school goodwill event?"

"That's months away!"

"It's good to be prepared," he put a finger up for emphasis. This from the guy who repeatedly said that he didn't give a shit about the sister school event.

"Do you perhaps know it's my birthday?" she asked suspiciously.

"Ohhhhh, it is?!" he grinned more broadly. Yup, he knew. "Happy Birthday! What a coincidence I happened to be in the vicinity! Do you want to have a drink with me? I choose where to go this time."

That would likely end them in a strip club or some other completely inappropriate establishment. She shook her head, though admittedly with a bit of regret - one thing was certain, it never got boring with Gojo around.

"Sorry, I have other plans. In fact, I was just about to leave for the train station."

Gojo's face fell. The hurt puppy expression was very convincing but she was not falling for it.

"Are you leaving town?"

"I'm going to visit my fam…"

Her phone buzzed. She fished it out of her pocket and - dammit! - blushed deeply when she saw who it was.

"Who is it?" Gojo demanded to know, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of her screen.

"None of your business," she snapped. Seriously, this guy had no sense of privacy! She pressed the "can't talk right now" message button.

"Why are you not picking up?"

Did he have to ask? The phone started buzzing again. Nope, her current boyfriend wouldn't desist. Utahime side-stepped Gojo and retreated to the farthest corner of her office. Which was still much too close because of course, her office was rather small.

"Oh, heyyyyy," she picked up the phone, trying to hide how awkward she felt. "It's a little inconvenient right now…"

"Hi honey," Kenji's voice was full of earnest adoration. He was such a sweet guy. "I'm sorry, have you left yet?"

"Not yet, but I'm about to."

"You've got to be kidding me," Gojo exclaimed loudly.

"Is someone there with you?" Kenji asked surprised.

"No, don't worry," Utahime put a hand around the phone to block additional Gojo sounds off. "It's just the radio. Sorry, I'm in a bit of a hurry, I see you on Monday, okay?"

"Okay, looking forward to it soooo much, I miss you!" Kenji made a loud kissing sound and Utahime thought she was going to die from embarrassment as she said her goodbyes and hung up.

"That guy? Really?!" Gojo had his hands at his hips, disapproval radiating from every pore. "He is a non-sorcerer! Who works at a bar!"

"So what," Utahime snapped at him. Did he have the hearing of a lynx? "That's none of your business!"

"What?!" Gojo was only getting more worked up. "Of course it's my business! You are cheating on me!"

"I'm… what?!" She just had to laugh at the ludicrousness of that statement. "Gojo. In what world are you living?"

"You promised to sleep with me!"

"I don't believe this," she groaned, feeling instant, treacherous heat everywhere. "I wasn't even serious!"

"But I was," he whined. "That night at my family's shrine was a disaster and only the beginning of So. Much. More. Trouble! I only went there because of you. You owe me and you promised!"

"And I negotiated with your goddamn bloody Ancestor who wanted to kill you until I collapsed! How do I owe you after that?!"

Why was she even haggling with him over this? That was not how things worked, people didn't negotiate about sex like this! She had decided weeks ago - even before things with Kenji had become more serious - that she would not sleep with Gojo, she just knew it would be glorious and then he would dump her because he'd get bored and it would take her months to feel good about herself again. She wasn't made for casual sex. She might even find it… morally apprehensive. Yes, that.

"Oh, you're swearing," Gojo sounded impressed. "You're that angry with me? I like it."

"Gojo!" she screamed, feeling a big urge to hit him.

"Okay, yes, I admit you were very helpful during that… incident in December. But that doesn't mean our agreement is no longer valid!"

"And you're coming now to tell me that? Two months later? You've got some nerve, I gave up on you weeks ago," Utahime grabbed her bag and her jacket, hiding her burning face by ducking her shoulders. Morally apprehensive but apparently, a part of her was quivering with happiness he had come here to renew his lewd proposal.

"I was very busy," Gojo frowned and moved to the side to make space for her. "In fact, it's been extra hard on me and I'm super stressed, I'm having trouble sleeping. I would like you to sing to me."

"Sing to… ugh!" Utahime threw her hands into the air. "I'm not your therapist!"

"Oh… but could you be? I would pay you. Lots."

Utahime stopped to have a good look at the infuriating man-child who had invaded her office. He looked impossibly serious. "No, Gojo. I cannot and will not sing to you for stress relief and most certainly won't take money for it. And now I'm sorry, but I have to go see my parents."

"Ah, that's where you're going," he smiled.

She mumbled something about being late, waved an extra short goodbye at him and rushed down to the train station. What a weirdo, she thought as she settled into her seat, but... I am glad that he is doing well.

And... she was giddy too. Gojo Satoru still wanted to sleep with her? She looked at the reflection of her face in the train window, the dark scar so prominent on her features. She shouldn't feel proud, should she. But, sigh, she did.

###

Her parents' house in Yamazoe, a village to the south-east of Kyoto, was situated halfway up a small mountain, nestled among trees that had grown too big for a good view of the valley below. Whenever she visited, it was warm and welcome, and even better, it always smelled of her favorite food.

"Busy at work?" her father asked, sucking on his antique kiseru and watching the smoke billow lazily up to the ceiling.

"Yes, this time of the year is never quiet," Utahime nodded, opening a can of beer. "But it's not too bad."

Her parents were proud of what she did. Apart from a great-grandfather, nobody in her family had worked as a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Their powers usually weren't great enough and they generally preferred quiet lives in the countryside among non-sorcerers. She would never have thought she'd end up working for the Society either but life was unpredictable sometimes, wasn't it?

Father and daughter sat together in comfortable silence, he drawing on his pipe, she sipping her ice cold beer. It was getting dark outside but there was a soft glow lingering among the trees around the house, beautiful and mysterious. She relaxed further, feeling content. Celebrating her thirtieth birthday quietly with her parents was exactly what she wanted.

The doorbell rang. Her father took the pipe from his mouth and looked towards the entrance with a frown.

"Who could that be?" Her mother came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on her apron.

"Maybe a neighbor," her father said, though he sounded unconvinced. People around here didn't just ring neighbors' doorbells.

Her mother disappeared from view to open the door.

"Good evening, Madame Iori!" Utahime froze. It was a voice she had never ever ever ever expected to hear at her parents' doorstep. "I am sorry to disturb you, but is your daughter here?"

"Y… yes?"

It was the utmost calamity. Her father's questioning look made her stomach turn. Not Gojo. Not here.

"Pardon me for forgetting to introduce myself," his chipper voice boomed through the house, "I'm your daughter's good colleague, a teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High. I'm sure she has talked about me: I'm Gojo Satoru"

Her father's face lost all color. Utahime jumped up, worried he might collapse, but he shook his head to indicate he was alright.

"Gojo?" Her mother squealed in alarm.

"Ah, so you do know about me," Gojo sounded happy.

Utahime felt… fury. But that was not all she felt. Concentrating on the fury seemed like the only safe option so she jumped up to shove Gojo out of the house and slam the door in his face.

"Don't," her father exclaimed, meekly lifting a hand. "Don't… make him feel unwelcome."

The situation was crystal clear and only made her a thousand times more furious: Her father was afraid of the name Gojo, of course he was. More than twenty years ago, that family had crushed him and his business like a bothersome insect for no clear reason other than that they could. It had taken her father years to come back from that blow, years of hard, diligent work. He knew in his bones that it could be taken away again anytime, just like that, at the whim of one of the Big Three. So, instead of giving Gojo the boot for what one of his relatives had done to them, her father's fear of unjust treatment by the Prime Family of Bullies meant he'd rather humiliate himself than to risk their ire.

"There's no need to humor this particular moron, he wants nothing to do with his family!" She hissed, already halfway out of her seat, but her father grabbed her arm to hold her back.

"Be careful. I don't want any harm to come to you," the pain in his eyes was like a jab to her heart. The untimely death of her sister more than ten years ago was an open wound that would probably never heal, an unsettling fear in her parents' hearts that losing one child didn't mean you couldn't lose your second child too - because the world was cruel and unjust.

"He won't harm me!" Utahime assured him. Gently, she disengaged her arm from her dad's grip, and walked out to greet the most annoying Sorcerer in the whole wide world, her quivering chin up in the air.

"There you are, Utahime!" Smoothly, Gojo slipped out of his shoes and into a pair of slippers. "I forgot to give you your present earlier."

Utahime stared at his giant feet, certain her family had no slippers in his size. But here he was, wearing slippers that fit him perfectly. In her parents' house. Her mother stood frozen before him, suspended in disbelief, her mouth standing half-open.

Gojo held a gigantic bouquet of flowers towards Utahime. Pink and white roses, they smelled heavenly. Where had he gotten roses like this from in the winter? Oh… teleportation? Maybe she was a little impressed.

"For you," he smiled. "Happy birthday."

"It's okay, mom," Utahim signaled her mother with her eyes that she'd prefer a moment of privacy. She meant to kick Gojo out posthaste and if necessary with force, which was not something she wanted her parents to witness. It definitely wouldn't meet their definition of politeness. And besides… her face was much too hot. This had the feel of a disastrously embarrassing incident already.

"There's a card here," Gojo pointed at an envelope half-hidden among the rosebuds.

"You're behaving like the worst kind of stalker," she grumbled, putting her arms around the huge bunch of fragrant roses though, quickly pressing her nose into them to inhale deeply, "you cannot just ambush people at their house!"

"I can't?" Was he genuinely puzzled or just pulling her leg? Probably the first. Gojo wasn't somebody you would take along to an important social function. Unless you wanted an incident.

With a sigh, she picked the envelope out of the bouquet. Would a nasty bug jump out at her? Or was it one of those tricks that sprayed paint all over you?

"I'll hold them for you while you open that," Gojo had already taken the flowers back, obviously so impatient for her to open the message that he began to tap his foot.

The envelope contained two tickets. To the World Baseball Classic game at Tokyo Dome in March. The very much sold out baseball game.

"How much did you pay for these?!" she gasped.

"Do you like my present?" he beamed even more radiantly, letting his glasses slip to the tip of his nose to study her face. The blue of his eyes matched the blue of his cashmere sweater perfectly.

"Take whoever you want with you. Just not that barkeeper. And… not Nanami either. In fact, I don't think I want you to go with any man. Can you take Shoko? Hmm… maybe it's better if I take them back!"

She laughed, quickly shoving the tickets into her back pocket in case he planned to make a grab for them. "You are impossible, Gojo. Would you like to come?"

His face turned serious so unexpectedly, Utahima felt catapulted into dangerous territory completely unprepared. If he looked at her like that, her knees wanted to go all weak, her lips began to tingle, and she thought about impossible things.

"Yes. I'd like to go with you. A lot."

Was this how fish felt when they had swallowed the bait? Dangling helplessly from a rod, with no possibility to escape? What would happen if she got lost in the azure blue of his eyes and never found her way back to earth?

"I don't think we have a vase that is big enough for those," Utahime's mother lamented, jolting Utahime out of drowning in someone's eyes.

"Ah, don't worry Mrs. Iori, I can take care of that," Gojo pushed the flowers back at Utahime and… disappeared with a faint plopping sound. Her mother gasped and looked at her with a pleading expression, as if Utahime could explain Gojo's erratic, moronic behavior so that it made sense to others.

"Has he left?" Her father asked from the door behind them, his voice shaking.

Mother and daughter just continued to stare at each other.

"Flowers?" Her father came closer. "Why?"

"Utahime, love?" Her mother pressed out. "What is going on?"

He wants to sleep with me, he says. If he wants something, he usually gets it. He's a bulldozer and I'm already much too weak. Help.

"I am not sure," Utahime said, trying to hide her burning cheeks behind the bouquet. "Just don't offer him anything to eat, he might get the cl…"

Gojo materialized out of thin air with no warning, still wearing his slippers, in his hands a gigantic white ceramic vase adorned with a pink ribbon. Had he gotten it from one of his apartments? It looked new.

"Here," Gojo held it out to her mother, "please keep and use this one, I'd be honored."

"Oh, thank you, thank you," her mother took the vase and held her hand out to Utahime for the flowers. "I'll take care of them."

"And you must be Utahime's father!" Gojo bowed towards her dad, "it is an honor to meet you, Mr. Iori."

"Hm, yes, hm, hm," her father cleared his throat. "It is my… my pleasure to meet a fellow teacher of my daughter, the…," more throat clearing, "Heir of the Gojo Clan no less. Please do not take offence, our house is very humble."

"Uh…," Gojo seemed taken aback, "ah, no, no. I'm not here as Heir of the Gojo Clan, just as Utahime's friend. And your house is perfectly fine. And how nice it smells!" He turned his nose towards the kitchen. It actually twitched! "Is that Sukiyaki in the making?"

"Yes!" Her mother, who had come back from putting the flowers into the vase, looked somewhat more in charge of the situation. "What an amazing sense of smell you have!"

"It's one of my favorite foods," Gojo smiled at her. "Your Warishita smells like you used a few drops of plum wine?"

"Amazing!" Her mother smiled back at him, too obviously smitten. "Would you like to stay for dinner, Mr. Gojo? There is plenty of food."

"But mother…!" Utahime exclaimed in horror. Her mother had too big a heart, she couldn't resist feeding stray cats and dogs, and apparently, stray Sorcerers.

"I'd love to stay!" Gojo's entire face lit up, "thank you so much! Can I offer my help in the kitchen?"

"No, absolutely not," Utahime's mother waved her hands dismissively. "We are almost ready to eat. There will be a few side dishes to finish and then… Darling, could you please offer Mr. Gojo a drink?"

"Y… yes, yes, of course," her father cleared his throat again. "Would you like beer, wine, or maybe sake, ?"

"Gojo really shouldn't dr…," Utahime tried to save the situation, but the train wreck was going to happen with certainty, it was a simple matter of time.

"Beer will be just fine!" Gojo exclaimed. "Very kind of you!"

Gojo walked to the living room with her father, babbling about all kinds of things like the type of wood used for building the house, the pictures on the walls, and the peaceful harmony in their home. However rude it was to turn up unexpectedly at someone's home like this, Gojo was such a force of nature, there was not a single person in the whole wide world who could withstand a charm offensive of this magnitude.

"How nice your parents are, Utahime," he smiled at her when her father went to the porch to get a beer for him.

"Yes," Utahime replied, "but you shouldn't drink, remember?"

"I shouldn't do many things," he replied, stretching out his long, long legs in the very well-cut trousers. "but here I am."

"Why are you here?" she asked with a frown.

"To spend your birthday with you," he replied, sounding very pleased with himself. "Tit for tat. Was the bartender not invited?"

"Of course not," she hissed. Her parents didn't know she had a new boyfriend and she didn't want them to know. There was altogether too much subtle and less subtle pressure for an unmarried, thirty year old woman to look for a husband. Not that her parents had ever said anything directly, but she had noticed her mother's longing looks at young women with children and how her father sometimes went to look at the chest full of wooden toys in the spare room.

"Ah. So it's not serious."

"No," she scoffed, "that's not it at all. But this was supposed to be a family celebration."

"I'm not going to leave, glare at me all you want," he said resolutely. "I love Sukiyaki and I like when you glare."

"Of course you do," Utahime sighed. Annoyed and far too flustered, she downed her can of beer in one go, which led to an instant bout of hiccups. Which, judging from the expression on his face, Gojo found very endearing.

###

They ended up playing Hanafuda after dinner. Gojo didn't know the game, which was quickly remedied by her mother who only had to explain the rules once. Being the fast learner that he was and showing his competitive streak clearly tonight, Gojo went on to win every game after losing only twice.

Utahime's father winked at her and filled Gojo's sake cup anew. She was beyond caring. First of all, her father had also amply refilled her own cup, her head was buzzing. Second, she very much wanted to beat Gojo at this point and her only chance was to make him too drunk to think straight. And third… third… I deserve pretty things on my birthday, she thought. Was he more relaxed than usual or was it her own state of drunkenness that made him look even better tonight than he usually did? Like a God who had come to earth to grace a bunch of mortals with his presence. Glowing. Handsome. Cute. Happy.

Gojo caught her ogling him but she didn't even care, she just grinned. Unabashed. His ears turned red and he looked so adorably boyish and flustered that she wanted to ruffle his hair.

He lost several times after that, haha.

"Oh dear, look at the time!" her mother yawned sometime later. "I'm off to bed, are you coming too, dear husband?"

"Hm, hm, yes, yes," her father staggered when he stood up. Gojo had refilled his sake glass amply too. "It is way past my bedtime."

"See you in the morning, Utahime!" her mother smiled. "Goodnight, Mr. Gojo."

Gojo got up, swaying precariously, and bowed to her parents, almost keeling over in the process. Utahime giggled. He was so wasted!

"... play more?" Gojo slurred, only keeping his eyes open with an effort.

"Let's call it a day," she said with a bit of regret and began to collect the cards, sorting them into a neat pile. She'd take care of the dirty glasses in the morning because frankly, she was drunk too.

"Ugh, tired…," Gojo mumbled. "I need to rest."

He stretched out his long form on the living room floor.

"No… Gojo, you cannot sleep here like this!"

"I can't?" He turned to the side and curled up, putting his head on his folded hands and pulling his knees closer to his chest.

"No… get up," she grabbed his arm and shook him. "I cannot let you sleep on the floor, my parents will be very displeased."

Speaking of which, how come her parents had just gone to bed, leaving her to deal with him? It was very unseemly, an unmarried woman and an unmarried womanizer who looked like Gojo alone at this time of the night. Why did she have to be the one more parental than her own parents sometimes? Alcohol was such a problem!

"Teleport yourself to your own bed," she shook him again.

"No," he curled up a little more tightly. "Don't want to."

Oh, right. Forcing him to do drunken teleporting was probably not a good idea, she remembered that feeling of being disintegrated in her nightmares.

"Get up!" she pulled on his arm, "there is a spare room upstairs. Come with me."

"Hm, okay," he scrambled up, swayed, leaned on her heavily. "Which upstairs?"

"Upstairs upstairs. Up the stairs. What other upstairs is there?"

He mumbled something about how he did not understand why people walked up stairs in the first place but dragged his feet forward following her lead, out of the living room, and up the wooden stairs.

"Shhhh," Utahime reprimanded him when he stumbled and made a huge ruckus. "It's almost midnight. My parents are asleep!"

"Sorry, sorry," he slurred.

"Stop putting your entire weight on me," she complained in hushed tones, "you're very heavy."

He replied something that sounded like "but I like it", tried to rebalance himself, and made it even worse in the process. Right before her legs buckled, she managed to push open the door to the spare room.

"There. A bed for you," she groaned, hitting the light switch with her elbow. It was cold in this room with the slanted walls underneath the roof, but the bed was always made.

"Got it," he straightened... and began to fumble for the rim of his sweater.

"Don't undress," she squeaked, "I'm still…"

But he had already pulled it halfway over his head, entangled himself and began to struggle against it. "Bloody nuisance," he mumbled, pulling the garment this way and that, "clothes are so useless."

Running out of the room would have been the right thing to do. But despite a high sense of responsibility, great level-headedness, and a conviction that a quiet, steady life was what she wanted for herself, Utahime did not run.

Because staring at Gojo's lean body was what she wanted. She wanted to admire his clearly defined abs, his chiseled chest, the - gods give her strength! - thin trail of hair running from his belly button down to what was hidden by his low-cut trousers. Her birthday was almost over, but this? This was the present she wanted.

He managed to pull the sweater over his head, got his glasses caught up in it too, and threw everything into a corner, cursing. His hands went to the button of his trousers… and froze.

"Utahime," he lifted his head to stare at her. "Why… Why are you in my room?" He looked around himself, growing more confused by the second. "Where… where are we?!"

"You really shouldn't drink alcohol, you moron," she chided him, taking a step in his direction. Her hands were itching to test whether his skin was as smooth as it looked. "You are very drunk once more."

"Am I?" He frowned at everything, "it makes sense."

Utahime lifted her hand to put it onto his chest - or rather, on the protective barrier around his person. It was as close as one got to Gojo Satoru and that was a good thing. A few more minutes before midnight. A few more minutes of crossing a line she knew deep down she should not cross.

Her hand met skin. She sucked in her breath in surprise. She felt his heartbeat thrum faintly against the tips of her fingers. How warm his skin was. And how smooth, like silk.

Utahime looked up into the eyes burning like blue suns above her. "Lie down, Gojo," she said. "I'll sing to you. I'll make sure your sleep will be untroubled."

"Sleep?" He sounded breathless. "I don't want to sleep."

About two more minutes to midnight. Utahime went up on her tiptoes, put a hand around Gojo's neck.

"You are much too drunk, Gojo Satoru."

And I am much too drunk too, she thought, pulling his head down gently so that she could put her lips on his. But I want a kiss before my birthday ends, just a kiss.

"Is this the present you want?" Gojo whispered against her lips.

Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes.