I do not own JJK.
Kasumi should have known this would happen.
Before winter break ended, she got a job at the neighborhood convenience store. There was no way she could agree to the baby-making thing. So, she was going to pay back every penny. One day. Paycheck by paycheck. Somehow…
But as things stood, she was currently at the cash register facing down a tall man with radiant, reflective blue eyes.
"G-G-Gojo-san," she stuttered and didn't know what to do. The store was empty. Manager-san was out back on his fifteenth smoke break.
"Heya, Kasumi~" He leaned over the counter, sunshades tilting more to reveal smiling eyes. "The Administration of Business contacted the fund. It seems your midterms didn't go too well. Care to explain? Hmm? No?"
The more he talked the more her eyes widened. Gojo was pretty scary when he wanted to be, huh. And maybe a bit of a stalker.
His eyes opened, a serious expression settling on his face. "Want to know what my guess is?"
"Th-that's because—!"
"You're fired. Let's go." He stepped back and slightly pivoted, indicating she follow him.
Her jaw dropped. "Excuse me, I have the right to work!" The ability to speak finally returned. "And you can't fire me!" She pointed an accusing finger at him, shouting, "Get out!"
"Hey missy that's no way to talk to customers," Manager-san hobbled back in from the side door. He was a short, thin man with three combed hairs on his head. "How can I help you, sir? Oh my." He took a good look at Gojo's physique and iridescent irises. The old man blushed. "You must be one of them Korean boys. BTS, was it?"
Gojo barely glanced at the manager before turning back to Kasumi, expectant.
She wanted to melt into the floor. "I can't," she mouthed. "Please." She was begging. She was more than aware that if Gojo Satoru really wanted something, there was nothing she or all of Japan could do to stop him.
Manager-san bopped a fist atop an open palm, light bulb going off. "Is this your boyfriend, missy?" How had he imagined that?! "Why don't you go on break. Shoo, shoo!"
He pushed her from out behind the counter. Her sneakers slid across the tile no matter how hard she dug her heels in.
And that's how she ended up sitting in the passenger seat of Gojo's parked, black mustang. He had the heated seats on. Her knees pressed against the door and her back was to him.
"You don't need to pay me back. I told you already," he said. "Whatever you decide, the scholarship is yours."
She watched a bunch of high schoolers run down the sidewalk. "It's so much money."
"It is."
She twisted around. "I know what you're doing!"
"I'm serious about you."
The words could have easily sounded romantic, but Kasumi knew what he was saying. He was 'serious' about his plans and utilizing her to achieve them.
She would be no different if she accepted. Her middle brother had recently gotten into an altercation with some Sanya hoodlums. Her mother had called her crying. Kasumi wired money for the clinic bill and that seemed to have appeased her.
Gojo sighed and leaned back in the driver's seat. He stared straight ahead. "Can you wait until our conversation in the spring before making a decision? That was the plan."
She crossed her arms and pouted. "I want to keep this job. Manager-san is really understanding about my schedule and study time."
"Then why did your test scores drop?"
Be honest. "It's you."
That surprised him. "What do you mean?"
Kasumi closed her eyes, fingers intertwining and fidgeting with one another. "I keep thinking about you. How you want to marry me. And what that would mean."
"I see," he mumbled and then gave her a once over. "What do you say?"
"We can stick to the plan and meet after this semester. But I'm keeping this job!"
"I can agree to that as long as your scores improve."
"Okay," she said, feeling scolded.
"If you don't," he smiled, "I'll buy the store and fire you myself."
Kasumi was affronted. She pushed open the door. "Fine!" she said and slammed it shut.
Satoru woke up at 3:00am to answer a phone call.
"Kasumi?" His voice was hoarse with sleep.
A sniffle. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Where are you?"
"The Milk District," she said.
"Have you been drinking?"
"Only a little," she said in a small voice. "Karaoke…" She was probably at Miashi's Rang Rang Pub.
Satoru rolled out of bed. "Stay where you are." He put pants on and grabbed his keys. "I'm on the way."
"From the mountains?"
"No, I'm in the city." Even if he were back at headquarters, warping time and space wasn't particularly hard to do. For him, anyway.
"Okay," she said again in that small voice.
"Bye." He hung up, beyond annoyed.
He found her sitting outside of Miashi's. She wore a red sweater over checkered leggings. At his approach, she glanced up at him with runny mascara. Tears trickled down her cheeks and her lipstick was smeared.
A dark thought settled over him. But first, he silently offered a hand, and she took it. She held her phone to her chest.
"What happened?"
It was instant word vomit. "An upperclassman tricked me into going to a mixer! I tried to get out of it once I realized, but the karaoke room was booked already so I felt bad! I must have not been very fun because when I went to the bathroom, they ditched me. And I…I think they took my purse." Miwa Kasumi was a bit of a spaz. Perhaps it was better that she had given up on sorcery, like Ijichi.
"And what happened here?" He swiped red gloss off her cheek and showed his thumb.
At the sight Kasumi covered her eyes with her forearm. "One of the guys—" She chocked over a sob— "tried to kiss me."
Irritated, Gojo grabbed her hand and led her down the street.
"I thought I saw your bag with some drunk idiots." It was a dull pleather purse with unforgettably tacky pins.
Alcohol was still new to her. She cried, likely embarrassed. It was a quiet cry, as if she were used to hiding weepy episodes.
"I'm sorry I came here. I don't want you to think I haven't been seriously considering your offer. It's like cheating. I just wanted to apologize. You didn't need to come."
Satoru knew he had chosen right. She was so good. They were still nothing to each other, but she thought going to a mixer was cheating. That meant she really was considering the offer.
They finally approached three college aged individuals having a laugh at an outside high top. Satoru encouraged Kasumi to go forward herself. His words were unneeded because once she spotted them, her hands balled up into fists and she came at them with burning rage.
She snatched her bag off the table, surprising the group and knocking down a few drinks.
"Oi! Watch it!" a male student drawled. He jumped up from his seat, lap wet with beer.
"You watch it!" she cried and whacked him across the face with the once captive bag. He was so stunned he plopped right back down on the chair. She raised her bag again toward the second male. The female upperclassman was speechless with her jaw open. People were looking over in curiosity or annoyance.
"Hoo, hoo," Satoru catcalled from afar, hands cupping his mouth. "Kasumi~," he sang, "mind your strength~" It'd be a bad look to lop a normie's head off with a purse imbued with cursed energy.
Kasumi looked over her shoulder at him, bag held high over herself. She innocently smiled and then spun once to gather momentum and dropkicked the second male in the chest. He cried out, tipping backward and off the seat. Satoru winced on impact. The female student screamed and some of the men at the bar started laughing.
Satoru took a wild guess and assumed guy number 2 was the one who kissed her.
Kasumi stormed past him. "Let's go!" Satoru followed her, laughing.
"Did you see that!" she squealed in mirth, pity party forgotten.
"I did," he chuckled. He was glad she was feeling better. She didn't need rescue after all. She had faced bigger and badder monsters than a bunch of petty university students.
She stopped in the middle of the downtown hustle and bustle, looking around. "Where's your car?"
He pointed over his shoulder. "That way."
She laughed. "Oh sorry!"
"C'mon," he said, smiling. She trailed behind. He made sure they made a huge 'C' around the pub.
"There they are, officer!"
"Time to run," he mumbled and the two booked it down the street, laughing their heads off.
Satoru sharply turned into a dark alley and snatched an arm around Kasumi's waist. He pushed her against the brick wall, leaning onto her. The cops ran past them.
After a few minutes and a clear coast, he glanced down. Kasumi was sporting a blush and looking at his mouth. He remembered how she had ogled him at the restaurant as he'd taken off a scarf.
Maybe he had been approaching this whole thing wrong. Miwa Kasumi was a young woman. Like any other college girl, she was probably dreaming of being swept off her feet and romanced.
He could do that.
Satoru gently placed a palm on her cheek. "That was a close one, huh?" His eyes narrowed, leaning an arm above them.
Her eyebrows went up, flush deepening. "Ye-yeah."
"If I were you," his thumb pressed against her bottom lip, "I wouldn't count what happened earlier. Think of this instead."
A shaky breath escaped her before he pressed his mouth to hers. His fingers slid into her hair. He was pleasantly surprised by how smooth she felt. She must have drunk something sweet because she tasted like plum wine.
"Gojo-san," she sighed, awed when he stepped away. Her hands covered her mouth. "He didn't kiss me!"
"Ha?" She had said—
"He tried to, but I covered my mouth at the last second and I must've smudged my makeup!" A new batch of tears gathered in her eyes. Apparently, alcohol made her especially sensitive. "You kissed me!"
He suddenly felt so tired, and kind of bad for the guy she dropkicked. "I think it's time I take you home."
Down the Milk District, onlookers were conflicted as they watched a tall man with odd hair drag by the hand a crying girl with odder hair.
The next morning Kasumi woke up in a luxurious bed. She jumped into no conclusions as she stared at the ceiling of Gojo's…hotel suite?
She had gotten sick all over his car. He'd taken her to his place because it was closer. He drove with his head out the window trying not to sympathetically puke. He carried her in and dropped her in bed.
If she were him, she'd had thrown herself in the garbage.
"Stay," she vaguely remembered him commanding, as if she were an undisciplined dog.
How embarrassing. Surgery drinks always made her sick. At twenty years old, she let herself be pressured by her upperclassman in the business department. Why? Because she wanted to be liked. Between work and studying, it was difficult to make new friends. She thought it would be a good opportunity….
Kasumi sighed and found the bathroom. She helped herself to a shower. She used her fingers to comb through her hair. The room wasn't lived in at all. Where were the hotel's toiletries? Water and a finger would have to substitute for toothpaste and a toothbrush.
She hand washed the middle part of her undies and wrung them out as best as she could before redressing in last night's leggings and tank top. She had no idea where her sweater was.
Most definitely in the trash.
When she stepped out of the room, she had a vague inclination that this wasn't a hotel suite at all, but a skyrise penthouse. There were several rooms and even a spiral staircase leading who knows where. One wall of the condo was a floor-to-ceiling window that oversaw the entire city.
"Whoa," she mumbled and walked to it. She glanced out and peered up as best as she could. Was this the top floor? Of…of how many floors?
"Enjoying the view?"
"Gojo-san!" She startled and twisted around, pressing her back to the window.
"Were you always this jumpy?" He gave her a once over. "Want some breakfast?" The man was spiffy as always, wearing one of his glamorous jackets and finely tailored slacks.
Ashamed, Kasumi closed one eye and pursed her lips.
Gojo smiled that simple smile she was starting to notice. "Scratch that then. Let's get you some clothes."
"Shopping?"
"That's right. Let's go." He handed her a jacket. So this was what genuine leather felt like. The reddish brown was a very nice color. And it smelled like a man's cologne. The aroma made her belly tingle.
The front door was essentially a private elevator. It took them to a garage 30 floors down. The garage could have probably fitted 30 cars, but it only had two. The vomit infested mustang and a black SUV.
They took the SUV and Gojo made it a point to remind her exactly why. She giggled at the exaggerated rendition of events.
"I didn't say that."
"You did. 'Please Gojo-sama rescue me!' Just like that." He raised his pitch when he mocked her and she laughed again.
They ended up on a strip in Shibuya famous for its high-end boutiques.
"Don't argue about it," he mumbled as he led the way into a shop called 'N ID Tokyo.' Every piece of clothing was singular in design and size.
Kasumi watched as Gojo was greeted by the attendant like old friends. He introduced the woman and she basically piled up a week's worth of clothes in Kasumi's arms.
They all fit her perfectly, but she chose the cheapest looking outfit, which wasn't saying much. She walked out of the boutique with high-waisted white trousers and a long sleeved, ivory silk blouse. The attendant even made her change into a matching set of underwear. She refused all the jackets offered to her.
If she accepted one, then she wouldn't have an excuse to continue to wear Gojo's.
Kasumi looked older. It was okay, but weird in the way change initially felt. At least she still had her crossover purse. The attendant also tried to sell her on the idea of a handbag and Kasumi declined as gracefully as possible.
Beside her Gojo was sporting his trademark circular shades, multiple store bags, and a completely different outfit. He was aglow with the aftermath of a successful shopping spree. This guy was such a ham…
"I'm pretty hungry. Brunch?"
Kasumi agreed. "I'd offer to pay," she shrugged, "but what's mine is yours." That was an understatement.
He smiled at her as they walked down cobbled sidewalks. "Speaking of, last night your friends used your fund credit card to buy an obscene amount of alcohol. I threatened to report the theft if they didn't drop the charges against you."
"Charges for what!"
"Battery and public disturbance."
"Oh God!" She face palmed. "Never mind." He was chuckling until she realized something. "You went back?"
"Hm mm," he said. "It would…be inconvenient if you were expelled for misconduct." It would set his plans back.
Even so, she considered his nonchalance as they made it back to the car. He was a good guy—no. Gojo Satoru was an excellent human being. He was known for his arrogance but when you were that powerful, was it even avoidable? He was also accredited for having saved Japan and likely the world countless times. And on a smaller scale, recognized for saving a lot of students from terrible situations—from executions to a bad night out with mean upperclassman.
Kasumi's heart raced within her.
"I'll do it."
"Hm?" He passed her a questioning glance as he opened the passenger door for her.
"Let's get married," she said. "I'll have your babies. And you'll take care of me and my family. We have a deal." The first thing she wanted was for her family to be moved out of Sanya.
Gojo actually looked surprised. But then, there on his face, a massive grin appeared, signifying the end all be all:
Checkmate.
That same week the Miwa family was relocated to a nice neighborhood near Ebisu Station. They were closer to Kasumi's university and her brothers were enrolled into prestigious schools. Her mother had taken the change in stride, not asking too many questions. If she pried too much, she was afraid she might have to give it all back.
As agreed, Kasumi quit the convenience store and started a summer internship. She texted with Gojo now and then throughout sophomore year, and met up for dinner maybe a handful of times to work out the details of the marriage agreement. What life would look like for them, living separately until she graduated or got pregnant, keeping it a secret until there was a baby in their arms, etc.
Fast forward, it wasn't until the end of sophomore year that she met up with Gojo at the courthouse. He greeted her on the ivory steps with a Cheshire grin.
The man was spiffy as always. He sent her, as he put it, an obscene amount of money to buy herself a nice dress. It was white and short and its skirt was comprised of bubble-like petals. Her hair was styled in a high ponytail with a veil the length of her knees. The bridal getup was completed by white pumps that tied around her ankles.
Gojo handed her an arrangement of spring flowers. "For the bride!" He was his usual cheeky self, and it made her feel at ease.
For my family, she thought.
Kiyotaka Ijichi joined them shortly. He was jittery, like he'd be apprehended at any moment. To his credit, Gojo had asked him last minute to be a witness.
"I feel like I'm abetting in a crime against a minor," Ijichi mourned.
Gojo laughed and excessively patted the man on the back. "Well that's pretty offensive. She's twenty-one!"
"OW, senpai—stop."
Kasumi smiled as they waited in the government hall to be called.
Ijichi sat between them, as if it would stop events from unfolding. He turned to her and grabbed her hands. It looked like they were both holding the bouquet of flowers.
"Miwa-san, you don't have to do this. This guy has a terrible personality."
She giggled. "I know."
"Hey," Gojo said, peering over Ijichi, "you should at least defend your future husband." That he went completely ignored made him sullen.
"I know," she said again, "but I want to marry him anyway."
Ijichi nodded, taking her words seriously. "If you're sure then. I wish you happiness and good fortune."
"Thank you, Ijichi-san."
"You're very welcome, Miwa-san."
"Gojo Satoru and Miwa Kasumi, please enter the judge's chamber."
After a nice dinner with an unwilling Ijichi, and a corroborating wedding photograph, the newlyweds were dropped off at the penthouse.
On the couch, Satoru attempted to set the mood. Dim lights, wine, and soft-spoken, pleasant conversation. He knew she was attracted to him. His arm was draped over the couch near her bare shoulders and he had a hand resting on her thigh. She would press her thighs together when his mouth brushed against the shell of her ear.
She really was a pretty thing. And that dress was like a gift waiting to be unwrapped.
But she was nervous. Part of the blame was on him. He should have made more of an effort to romance her during her sophomore year. It would have made tonight easier. Either way, they had an agreement. He upheld his end of their deal and would continue to do so. It was her turn.
Satoru kissed her neck. Her pleasured hum was a reward to hear, but when his hand slid up her dress, she startled and asked him to wait.
"Kasumi."
"I know, I know! I want to, but it's just that I have this feeling like I'm doing something bad. It's the same as when I hadn't agreed yet and was leaving you on standby! It's just so confusing." It was one of those: damned if you do, damned if you don't, sort of things.
"I think I see your dilemma." Miwa Kasumi was an overthinker. But he could work with that.
She tried to turn away, but he wouldn't let her. She gasped when he thoroughly kissed her on the lips. The sounds she made were more than enough to get him in the mood.
When they parted, he let her scramble off the couch and take several, wobbly steps back in those sexy little pumps. A hand covered her mouth in shock of her body's reaction. The other pressed against her lower pelvis. His grin was wicked as he slowly got up and approached her with predatory intent.
"You kissed me!" she accused. How nostalgic.
"Oh sweetheart," he drawled, "we'll be doing much more than that."
"What!"
"Just fall in love with me, Kasumi. We both know it's not hard to do."
The gall of the man was unparalleled. She flushed from head to toe.
He ran his hands down her arms, causing her to shiver. "Turn your brain off," he whispered against her temple, "and let me do the thinking."
She gasped when he threw her over his shoulder and made his way up the spiral staircase. "Gojo Satoru, put me down at once!"
"I don't think so." He smacked her ass with a sharp slap and then tossed her on his bed. He loosened his tie at the same time he unbuttoned the top part of his dress shirt.
Kasumi scurried backward against the headboard, pressing her back to it.
"Honey, don't look so scared. I'm about to make you feel real good." He shrugged off his shirt and pressed a knee into the mattress, causing her to bite her lip.
Oh her stomach tingled something fierce. The man was too handsome—too charismatic for his own good. She could practically feel her insides melting in response to his dominance.
"Will you be gentle?"
"I'll be whatever you want me to be," he flirted before he was upon her, taking her into his arms and passionately kissing her.
"But my heels!" She made a point to remember, trying to get out from under him.
"Let's keep those on." His hands slid up her thighs, her cute dress compiling over his forearms. He groaned. "You're so soft. Let me see you."
In under a minute, she was nakednakednaked (with only heels and a veil on). She was grateful for the speed in which he undressed her, because it didn't give her enough time to think before he put his mouth everywhere. Even in places mouths should never go. After he made sure she lost herself an absurd number of times for her first night, he settled his hips between her legs and took what was his to take.
"Look at me, Kasumi," he huffed, grabbing her wrists and guiding her hands to slide down his abdomen. "Never forget this night. Remember that I've chosen you and no one else."
She whimpered in response, as he moved with determined purpose.
"I need you," he said and laid his palm flat against her belly. "I need you."
