A/N: Out of all the chapters in this story so far, this one was the most difficult to write. It's gone through several re-writes over the last week and a part of me feels like I'm losing the plot a little here, but I have to keep reminding myself that this is the romantic filler portion of the story. I designed it this way...for better or worse. We've gone too far down the rabbit hole now to course correct. Plus, the holiday season is upon us, so things are naturally busier and my brain decided to hit its burn-out season right in the thick of it. On the bright side, I am fully embracing the Christmas spirit this year, which has not happened in several years for reasons none of you need to know about. I'm not turning this author's note into a therapy session...the chapter however...
I have a really hard time writing humorous fluff without angst getting mixed in somehow. But such is the nature of life. Sometimes, even the sweetest moments are laced with fragments of bitter anguish. But enough of my rambling. I hope you guys will enjoy the chapter. Despite the difficulties that came with writing this time, I did still enjoy putting it together. Thanks for reading! Best wishes and God bless you all.
Disclaimer: Jujutsu Kaisen belongs to Gege Akutami and other copyright holders. This work is a fan project that is swiftly derailing into madness.
Warnings: This is the most "throw all caution to the wind" romance I have ever written in my life. That's the other reason why it's become increasingly difficult to write it. I am the author of this madness, yet I don't understand how we got here at all. What is going on with these clowns!? What is going on with me? Pray for me. Please!
December 15th, 2017
Tokyo, Japan – Shinjuku City District
9:30pm
Miharu is exhausted.
She had exhibited some hints of fatigue during dinner, but it wasn't until they began their long walk across Shibuya to Shinjuku that her body language began to reflect the physical and emotional fallout from her time inside the Veil and Cosmos' Domain Expansion.
Gojo keeps a sharp eye on her, resisting the urge to fill the silence between them during their visit to the local convenience store. She doesn't even glance at the shelves as they weave through the aisles, just stretches out a hand to the right or left every so often to grab something to toss into the small black basket thrown over her left wrist.
Her accuracy in attaining the essentials for this impromptu sleepover impresses him.
"Shop here often?"
"No. These stores are all laid out the same."
He nods in acknowledgement to her explanation, adjusting his hold on the sleeping Shikigami as they make their way to the register.
This time there's no discussion about who's paying. Miharu simply reaches into his pocket, plucks out his wallet, and hands one of his credit cards to the cashier.
It's terrible first date etiquette, but Gojo isn't concerned about that.
He's more concerned about the glassy state of her eyes.
"You okay?" he questions, his focus on the cashier placing the items into plastic bags.
"Fine."
She's lying.
Gojo knows it but chooses not to comment.
Once outside, they make an exchange. He takes his wallet and the plastic bags from her while she tucks Tuna into the fold of her arms.
"Sorry," Miharu murmurs softly, carding her hands through the demon cat's fur along his head.
"No, you're not," he teases lightly, calmly observing how the spirit animal purrs like a little motorboat in his sleep. "You'll happily spend all my money if I let you."
"I'd leave you enough to live on."
He laughs at her joke, but the noise sounds hollow in his ears.
…
Gojo understands the reason for her fatigue. Discovering the truth behind her sister's disappearance after twenty-six years of wondering had to have been a relief to some degree, but the knowledge gained had also opened a door to many other questions.
,
Some were answered.
…
Others weren't.
…
Gojo is certain it's those unanswered questions that are beginning to eat away at her now. There's still so much Miharu can't begin to comprehend about his world of Sorcery and Curses, and though he can be a source of information, he can't bring peace or meaning to the war waging inside her heart.
…
Even the strongest can't escape the agony of grief, and, considering the massive power gap between them, she really doesn't stand a chance against those feelings.
…
Trying to hide them from his sight is also a pointless venture, but such is a conclusion she'll come to realize soon enough.
…
In the span of forty-five minutes, Miharu Kelmendi, with kindness and courage guiding every step, brought peace to the Curse that had dismantled so much of her life and won the heart of Jujutsu's strongest soldier. It's only natural that she would experience some form of aftershock following such dramatic, life-changing events, but she is determined to rush through that process simply because she's tired of waiting to live.
…
She wants to move on. She wants to pretend the confrontation with Cosmos was a task simply checked off a list of things to do and that accomplishing this goal came with the prize of a strong, handsome, and very rich boyfriend all too willing to murder every monster daring enough to even glance in her direction.
…
More importantly, Miharu doesn't want to think.
…
Thinking beyond the present moment will undoubtedly send her spiraling through every detail of those forty-five minutes.
…
At least, that's Gojo's current conjecture with how blatantly her anxiety shouts at him. He won't interfere for now, for their simple companionship is a soft cushion to the rapid collapse of his own plans to reshape the cruel, uncaring world of Jujutsu.
…
To his credit, he is mostly correct about Miharu's thought process.
...
However, her main concern at the moment pertains to how she's on her way to spend the night with a man she technically just met three hours ago.
…
In her mind, this situation is either a horribly written Wattpad romance or a one-way ticket to having her body thrown into a dumpster somewhere. Oh yes, the thirty-year-old model can clearly see herself as a front-page newspaper article…even though hardly anyone reads those anymore.
And really, it's something she should have considered before accepting his outlandish invitation.
Their date aside, common sense tells Miharu to carry her behind back to her apartment in Chiyoda and write off this entire day as one giant fever dream. Furthermore, common sense screams that Broomstick Man is not automatically trustworthy just because he's attractive and funny.
…
Well, he's more than those things, but taking those other traits into account means reviewing other revelations of the day, which she is not keen on doing right now.
For these reasons and more, the model isn't listening to the more logical part of her brain anymore. Her choice to spend this night with Gojo is simply a concession to his point…that she would rather be with him than return to life as she knew it.
…
She's not sure if she's looking forward to the future either, but there's no going back now. She can't write off her experiences as mere fantasy.
…
She can't deny how she felt in his arms either.
…
At her weakest…Gojo provided the strength she needed to press on and forge her own path towards closure.
…
Nevertheless, if she were to awaken with the familiar sounds and sights of her apartment, a part of her would dismiss it all in a heartbeat…because it's far easier to run from ugly truths than it is to accept pretty lies.
…
Running is her default.
…
For a destructive habit like that to die, drastic measures are necessary.
If tragedy is all there is to find in his world…so be it.
...
Miharu is used to it anyway.
"Are we there yet?" she whines, suppressing a yawn.
"Almost. My building is just up ahead."
"Okay."
When they arrive at a high-rise luxury apartment complex within the Shinjuku district a few minutes later, Gojo has a very difficult time stifling his laughter watching Miharu drag her feet along the pavement.
"My place is on the top floor," he coos, showing off all his teeth when he points up at the skyscraper before them.
"Okay…"
"And I may have failed to mention that the elevators are out of commission right now."
…
The model blinks once, her expression completely blank.
"You're joking."
…
"I'm not."
…
She blinks again and thinks he'll be the one on the front page of a newspaper if he expects her to climb…
"How many flights?"
"Twenty-five."
…twenty-five flights of stairs…in heels!
"Teleporting is still an option…"
…
A long sigh slips past her lips.
"Those elevators better be out of order," she mumbles calmly, marching ahead with Tuna wrapped in her arms and the sword from Cosmos strapped to her back. "Otherwise, I will find a way to break you in half. You hear me? In half!"
At that exact moment, Gojo feels a strange chill, an omen of sorts.
…
He shrugs off the sensation. Miharu, weak as she is, couldn't possibly back up such a threat, especially not after she sees the shut down notices plastered across each elevator door inside the front lobby.
"Maintenance purposes they say…"
"I could…"
"NO!"
And so, roughly twenty floors later…
"Miharu, this is silly," Gojo complains, swinging the bags filled with items she purchased with his money as he follows her inch by miserable inch up the eerily quiet stairway. "You could have already been asleep by now..."
She glares at him, practically daring him to say something else.
…
He obliges.
"Honey, are we having our first fight?"
The poor woman immediately becomes a stuttering mess, to the point that Gojo doesn't understand half of what comes out her mouth as she pivots on her heel to stomp up the remaining five flights like a toddler.
Entertained yet flabbergasted with Miharu's stubbornness, the Sorcerer waits for her to reach the final floor before speaking again.
"What was that last bit!?" he questions mockingly, bringing a hand to his ear as if he hadn't heard her more intelligible comments. "Speak up, dear."
"I said your superpowers have made you lazy," she calls down, leaning over the railing while tapping her foot in impatience by the last door. "Now quit gawking at me like a dork and get up here!"
With a widening smirk, Gojo decides to teleport directly in front of her. Anticipating her reaction, he immediately presses a hand against her mouth to prevent the shriek that would have startled the sleeping Shikigami swaddled inside her coat.
…
"See how much faster that was?" he whispers, slowly withdrawing his hand once her breathing stabilizes. "What's that saying? Work smarter, not harder?"
Miharu doesn't respond. The sudden proximity makes her brain short-circuit, so, relying on gut instinct, she tries to put space between them only for her back to smack the hard surface of the door.
"Yep," she laments, watching his playful smirk twist into a dark, predatory smile. "Should have seen this coming when he didn't order any dessert."
She squeezes her eyes shut in acceptance and hopes the newspapers will use the more glamorous photos of her career and not the embarrassing one's from her runway days. The woman will literally haunt all of Japan if all she's remembered for is traversing down a slippery aisle wearing a literal box.
…
…
…
"Sweetheart?"
His velvety voice is right in her ear.
"Hmm?"
"Can you move?"
Miharu immediately opens her eyes in shock.
"Huh?"
Gojo responds with a slight frown.
"I need to get around you to open the door. I mean, we wouldn't have to move from this delightful position if we teleported directly into my apartment, but I'm trying to respect your wishes…foolish as they are."
There's a short pause…
…
And then, with a scarlet blush brightening her cheeks, Miharu flies into a much louder stuttering fit while repeatedly poking the center of Gojo's chest. Disturbed by all the noise, the demon cat awakens to press a paw to the woman's lips, silencing her.
"Meow…"
"See?" Gojo moans, shaking his head as if he's disappointed in her. "Look what you did. He was sleeping so soundly."
"Meow…"
"I know, buddy." He lightly pats the top of Tuna's head. "She's not being a very good cat mommy, is she?"
…
Miharu's responding expression is a clear indicator that she wants to murder everything and everyone in her immediate vicinity, but by now she's too exhausted to combat the combined antics of a rowdy pet and a psycho Sorcerer, so she simply steps aside and allows Gojo to open the door the old-fashioned way.
"That settles it. I'm the main character of a ridiculous Fanfiction. That's the only explanation for what my life has become."
Entering the top floor, the strange couple and their cat travel down a quiet, winding hall.
"I don't usually have to use this," he mutters, extracting a key-card from his pocket. "You know, with the teleporting and all."
"Lazy Broomstick Man," she drones, following him through the brightly lit space to a black door equipped with a card reader and a keypad. She watches him swipe the card first. The light above the door flashes yellow, indicating the request for him to input a secondary four-digit security code.
Miharu sighs lowly, studying his long fingers as they dance over the keypad.
…
Access Denied.
…
"Just a missed input."
He types again.
…
Access Denied.
…
"Meow…?"
"Gojo…?"
"Don't worry. It's fine…"
He tries once more.
…
Access Denied.
…
…
…
"I… think I might have forgotten the access code."
"Are you serious!?"
"MEOW!"
"It's fine. Let me try this combination instead."
He presses a different set of numbers.
Access Denied.
"No. Wait. Maybe it was this?"
Access Denied.
"This is just sad."
"Don't judge me! I just told you that this is not my usual way of entry!"
Access Denied.
"Oh, I'm judging. I'm judging harshly."
Groaning in irritation, Gojo retrieves his cell phone, unlocks it in a very theatrical manner to show Miharu that he can remember passwords, then quickly scrolls through his contacts to call the head of his personal cleaning staff.
Considering the strange hour, the middle-aged woman sounds just as flabbergasted as the model next to him when he asks for the code to his apartment.
"Sir…why don't know your pass-code? Have you been drinking?"
He sighs heavily, making a mental note to himself that this is not an adequate reason to reduce someone's salary, tempted as he may be to do just that.
"Just…give it to me please."
Thankfully the much older woman doesn't need to be told twice. She gives him the code and, after offering his thanks, he hangs up and punches in the appropriate numbers.
"Eleven-Eleven?" Miharu questions, her expression a mixture of exasperation and legitimate concern for his mental faculties. "How could you forget such an easy code?"
Gojo sighs this time, only slightly mortified while watching the light flash green above the keypad.
"I changed the code last year when Taeyeon released a song of the same name. Forgot that I did that…cause I typically just…"
"Teleport," she interrupts while they cross the threshold. "Isn't Taeyeon from Girls' Generation?"
"Oh? A fellow fan?"
Miharu crouches down, releasing Tuna to run down the short hall into the living room.
"I was always more of a 2NE1 fan, but yeah. I like a few of their songs."
Stepping out of his black dress shoes, Gojo watches Miharu remove the sheathed sword from her back to lean it against the wall.
…
The weight of the weapon doesn't seem to be a problem for her anymore.
…
"2NE1 is a good group too," he murmurs while she takes a seat to remove her boots. "Was sad to see them disband."
"Yeah, this year has been tough for 2nd Gen K-Pop." For a few seconds, the model struggles to pull off the left boot. "SISTAR disbanded too."
He nods, whistling that group's final song to himself while Miharu fights against uncooperative footwear.
…
She hums along with him once he gets to the chorus.
…
It's a solemn tune embodying their shared loneliness.
…
After both boots are off her feet and resting next to his shoes, Miharu jumps to her feet and pads her way into the dark living room in a rush of childlike excitement.
He stops whistling.
"Hold on. Let me turn on the lights so you don't trip or…"
"I'm not that…ouch!"
Gojo shakes his head as he flips a switch to illuminate the interconnected space of the living room and kitchen. Tuna had already made himself comfortable on the large grey couch positioned behind a black coffee table. Beyond the table is a fireplace surrounded by grey stonework with a plasma screen TV mounted on the wall above it. The kitchen has similar coloring with its modern appliances and an island/bar covered in a deep blue granite.
She thinks the cold, mysterious nature of the space suits him, but she's surprised at the lack of a Christmas tree or any other holiday decorations. Based on his playful nature, she had expected a more festive atmosphere.
"Told you to wait."
"Yeah, I know," Miharu mumbles, gritting her teeth against the pain of a stubbed toe. "Should have listened to you."
Gojo walks around her to place her things on the kitchen counter. "Well, to be fair, you didn't listen to me when I told you to wait when we first met either. In that case, not listening to me was…a good call."
She doesn't miss the slight hesitation in his words.
"I…suppose it was."
…
When a heavy silence begins to fill the room, Miharu takes the opportunity to stroll across the living room to the curved wall of windows. She casts her gaze on the twinkling lights of the city, understanding now that there wasn't much need for decorations inside when he could see a whole mural of silver and gold intermingled with the usual reds and blues of Shinjuku's nightlife.
Gojo marvels at how all the lights sparkle within the storm building in her eyes. Right now, standing above a world she barely knows; he feels the weight of her relief when she exhales.
…
She hasn't been at peace in over a decade.
…
And, unfortunately, what she feels now isn't going to last much longer.
…
The inevitable wave of old grief is on its way to claim her.
…
Gojo watches her breathing change from its regular rhythm to something more strained as the silence drags on.
…
"What got you into Girls' Generation of all things?"
…
The question is a distraction tactic.
But now…
…
"Not sure," he answers, shrugging as he takes slow strides across the room, bypassing the couch as Tuna stretches into a more comfortable sleeping position. "I found their music during a…rough time in my life. Listening to them was a way to take the edge off."
She hums softly. "Is that so?"
"Yeah. Back then, I could forget the world and everything in it while lost in a bright tune."
"Does that still work now?" she asks.
…
While waiting for his answer, Miharu sees Gojo's reflection tug the blindfold down to his neck. His hair follows the motion, repositioning itself around his head in a more natural manner when he comes to a stop a few feet behind her.
His demeanor transforms with the change in look, and the model can't help but feel that he's more intimidating this way. It's why she hesitates when shifting her attention from the bright visage of the glistening city to the luminous abyss hidden behind his mystifying blue eyes.
"No. It doesn't."
Meeting his gaze throws off her equilibrium and thrusts her through familiar sensations lost to a time of music, elegant costumes, and ice beneath her skates.
…
Angelica's death isn't the only tragedy she has to overcome.
…
Eleven years ago…heartache corroded the path of her dreams.
…
Modeling had only been a hobby back then, but after…
…
...
...
Tears, hot and fast, slide down her face.
…
"You okay?"
…
It's the second time Gojo has asked her this.
…
"I'm f-fine."
…
Though Miharu delivers the same lie as before, the break in her voice confirms the truth she can't run from anymore.
…
Gojo takes a step and silently extends his hand to her.
…
The simple gesture makes her heart pound.
…
She's scared. She's scared to fall without a clear safety net.
…
Before today, she had labeled this man as a flippant, sugar-crazed, womanizer.
…
Now he stands before her as an equally complicated soul.
…
"Don't lie to me."
The words are spoken softly, but there's a cool edge to the command that slices through her heart.
…
With a shaky exhale, Miharu places her hand in his to take another step into the unknown.
…
"You lied to me when you said nothing hurts you," she counters when he guides her hand to his chest. "What makes it okay for you to..."
Her words disappear when she feels his heartbeat pulse through her palm.
It's a wordless signal expressing his own apprehension, and the sensation is an immediate comfort that robs her of any desire to argue with him.
…
"Look at me."
Her gaze moves from their hands to his face.
"You see my eyes?"
She nods.
"Part of the reason I wear the blindfold has to do with how powerful my eyes are," he states, answering her question from when they were at Kaikaya. "I can see most everything with them."
…
"T-That tends to be how eyes work…"
"No, sweetie, my eyes are special," he cuts in, chuckling darkly. "Want an example of what I mean?"
Miharu knows he's not really asking. Something wild and terrible is coming over him. She can identify it in the brightening of his irises as he releases her hand to stroke her wet cheek with his thumb.
Perhaps it should frighten her, but instead she finds herself leaning into his touch.
"With these eyes I can see the tiny flecks of Cursed Energy in your tears, the exact path they'll take down your face before it happens, and, with all my focus centered on you, I can make an extremely educated guess on what's going through your mind right now. I'm not always accurate since I'm not capable of reading minds, but nonverbal signals can communicate all sorts of things."
She keeps her gaze locked on his even as he draws closer. Both of his hands are on her face now, wiping away the continuous flow of her despair.
"I knew you were overwhelmed and tired, hence my frustration with you insisting we not teleport, but you are a very stubborn woman." He laughs again. "No one can reason with you once you've made up your mind."
Beneath her hand, Gojo's heart rate starts to climb.
"Your Cursed Energy is just as uncooperative," he continues, studying her face carefully with the expression of a mad scientist. "It's difficult to detect and read, especially with residual energy from that Curse getting in the way. Nevertheless, I know some of what you're capable of…because you bypassed an ability of mine that should have prevented you from touching me at all. It's active, even now, but here you are still...disrupting the natural flow of my energy and touching my heart."
Miharu's grey eyes widen at the new information surrounding this confession.
"Gojo..."
"I typically eliminate anything capable of nullifying my abilities," he tells her, his hands drifting delicately past her neck and down to her shoulders. "I have many enemies who would absolutely love to use your little trick to disarm and manipulate me. Such a problem is easily fixed if you don't exist anymore."
She feels the skip in his heart when he says that. It's another wordless signal.
...
"But I like that you exist, Miharu Kelmendi," he murmurs, the intensity of his gaze softening. "I like it enough to give you my trust and put everything else at risk."
This time it's her heart that skips.
"Why?"
His hands move down to her hips.
"I don't know."
He speaks the words seriously, leaving zero room for any misinterpretations.
...
She still ends up laughing regardless.
"Of course you don't know."
Sighing, Gojo leans his forehead against hers while she bites down on the inside of her jaw. He knows she wants to scream, but she's fighting it, not wanting him to know how close she is to breaking, even though he's been able to discern her emotional state for at least an hour now.
"I don't know what's going on with us either," she groans, clutching at the fabric of his jacket. "I feel so stupid. I thought knowing what happened to Angelica would fix my life…but all it did was complicate it, and now everything is happening too fast. I mean, how did we even get here?"
…
"We walked…"
"Don't be a clown right now." She moans softly when he weaves one his hands through the hair at the base of her neck. "We met less than four hours ago! We're total strangers, but you guided me through the most difficult moment of my life…and then I kissed you out of nowhere…and now I'm here in your apartment…and I...I just..."
"You said it yourself before," he cuts in, his words compelling her to look at him again. "It doesn't feel like we're strangers."
Miharu had said that. She had said a lot of things to justify this nonsensical behavior.
Is it really so nonsensical though?
…
In the short silence that follows, Gojo steps closer.
That single movement traps her against the window.
...
"Just tell me one thing. Is this real? Are we..."
"Stupidly in love? Maybe."
…
If the glass were to break right now, gravity says she will plummet to her death, but that isn't on her mind when his lips tenderly brush against hers or when she drapes her arms around his neck to pull him flush against her.
…
The law of gravity doesn't apply to him anyway.
If the glass breaks, he'll be her safety net.
Because for Satoru Gojo, keeping Miharu Kelmendi in his life is a simple, necessary decision. After all, her ability to transform different forms of Cursed Energy, particularly his, isn't something he can afford to let loose into the world now that he's aware of it. Some may consider it calculative and selfish of him to view her this way, but he is not a man prone to introspection or guilt. He acts according to his own will. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Frankly, he doesn't know if love is something he's capable of feeling at all.
But he does care about the woman in his arms. Selfish or not, he will not allow anything to touch her.
…
Having vowed to never turn off his technique again, Gojo had resigned himself to the ache of isolation. It didn't matter how much he smiled or laughed. It didn't matter if he was lost in a crowd or interacting with his students...that crippling chill of loneliness remained. And really, it was such a familiar pain that he thought himself numb to it.
Murdering his best friend dismantled the idea.
…
And the aftermath left an invisible yet gaping wound that bleeds into everything else.
…
Even now, a small trace of that anguish finds its way into the moment without his permission as he pulls back to let Miharu catch her breath.
"Satoru?"
Her fingertips, hesitant and gentle, brush the skin beneath his left eye.
...
She's the only one who can touch him this way.
...
"Are you okay?"
He smiles.
"You're the first person to ask me that in long time," he whispers, pressing a kiss to her forehead now.
"And your answer? Be honest."
...
"I think so," he tells her after a handful of seconds. "Do you feel better?"
…
"A little."
…
They examine each other for another moment...
...
And then they both start laughing because neither of them really feel great at all.
They just feel stupid.
"We're hopeless," Miharu wails.
"Meow!"
"See, even Tuna agrees..."
She trails off for a second to glance at the Shikigami, wide awake and most definitely traumatized.
"Satoru...did we just make-out in front of him?"
The Sorcerer scratches at the back of his head and whistles some random song as if he didn't know the poor creature was watching the entire time.
"Oh no! My poor baby!" She immediately escapes from his arms to sit by her dazed pet with an expression of pure horror on her face. "How could you not tell me he was watching!?"
"I...was distracted."
Miharu waves her hand in front of Tuna's little face several times.
Poor thing doesn't move an inch.
"I think we broke him!"
Still whistling, the strongest Sorcerer stealthily tiptoes past his increasingly manic girlfriend.
"Where are you going!?"
"To my suite on this end of the apartment," he answers, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yours is through the hall by the far end of the kitchen. I keep some old clothes in there that should fit you."
"Wait!" Miharu calls, jumping to her feet in exasperation. "You're just going to leave. You coward! Get back here and face the consequences of your actions!"
Gojo pauses to glance at her and the zombie demon kitten.
"M-Meow..."
"Don't go to the light, baby," she says kneeling back down to rub soothing circles along his little head. "You're alright. Mama is here."
"M-M-Meow..."
Growling, Miharu glares at the Sorcerer again.
Blinking very slowly, Gojo comes to a sharp realization.
...
He's fallen for a crazy cat lady.
"Don't give me that look," he teases, smirking as he points at Tuna. "Our undying love was simply too much for him to witness. If he wanted to survive, he shouldn't have been so laser focused on us..."
"MEOW!"
Shaking her head, Miharu goes to the kitchen with a hand pressed to the side of her head. "I'm getting a horrible headache from all this."
"Then get some sleep," the Sorcerer suggests. "And if you need anything unrelated to cat drama, don't hesitate to find me."
"I'll keep that in mind, Satoru."
"Oh? No more Gojo or Broomstick Man?"
She smirks while searching through the plastic bags for Tylenol.
"I think I like calling you by your first name best."
…
The words contain another message for him.
…
It isn't necessary to share everything in one night. They have time. They have the rest of their lives if that's what it takes to figure out why they feel the things they do for one another.
Undying love may be a stretch, but they have something.
…
"Goodnight then, Miharu."
"Goodnight."
Gojo finally leaves the room, a faint trace of fatigue filling him as he moves. In monitoring his physical state, he comes to understand another effect of her technique.
…
Those kisses took more away than his breath.
…
He barely noticed it since he has so much Cursed Energy to spare, but…
…
Sighing to himself, he withdraws his phone, enters his pass-code and is immediately bombarded with notifications from Nanami regarding Ijichi's condition, how he shouldn't have left the man passed out in the middle of Shibuya in the rain, and a terse series of questions about his "supposed" girlfriend.
There's a text from Yaga too. He's wondering where the report to the higher-ups is. It's a good indicator that Miharu's involvement hasn't gotten around yet.
The group chat he has with his students reveals that they'll all be attending the Christmas Party he all but forgot about. Yuta seems particularly excited in his texts. That's good. The kid has been through a lot.
Utahime flat out rejects his invitation. Fine.
Shoko will attend with Nanami as her date for the evening. Funny how the strict salary man hadn't mentioned that.
…
Why did he start checking his phone again?
…
Right.
…
Upon entering his suite, he dials the number for the research division.
"Ah! Gojo-sama! How may I help you this evening?"
He hesitates.
Once he starts this…
…
"I need you to send me every record of Curse and Sorcerer activity from Ireland."
A/N: And that is the end of this chapter. Whew! I'm going to have to take a break from these two hooligans after this. Hopefully next time we can pull in some more of the other characters to keep things from being too centered on Miharu and Gojo. I also have to keep reminding myself to trust the process. Love at first sight is not a troupe I have ever written before now. The concept generally perplexes me...and now I got to write it and make it believable. What have I done to myself? Help! Someone help me to not have an existential crisis over this. I'm going insane. But, if you enjoy my insanity keep following this story. Many thanks to you all for reading. Best wishes and God bless you all.
Also, a quick list of songs/groups mentioned/referenced in the chapter:
11:11 by Taeyeon
Lonely by SISTAR
Girls Generation (No specific song included, but Into the New World or The Boys are solid introductions if you're interested in K-Pop)
2NE1 (No specific song included, but they did disband in 2017 with a song called Goodbye. Great song. Highly recommend it.)
Safety Net by Ariana Grande feat. Ty Dolla Sign (Technically not in the chapter at all, but I listened to it a lot during the final re-write. It really captures the essence of what Gojo and Miharu's relationship is based on...what could be called trauma bonding. I don't know.)