𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮 | 𝗷𝘂𝗷𝘂𝘁𝘀𝘂 𝗸𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗻

𝘀𝗲𝘁 𝗮 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗽

Jujutsu Tech is a beautiful school. And also, equally, very weird. So it makes perfect sense, really, that when Gojo said he was a teacher he meant here.

He's been weirder than usual since your harrowing near-death experience, which has brought you surprisingly close to Utahime, who you really get along with. You'd say he was avoiding you, but he'd never been the type to hang too long around in the first place. (You don't really know much about him, you've realized.)

You're glad your second time on campus could be under more pleasant circumstances than when Shoko had patched you up from being mugged, but you're not exactly here under stress-free conditions either. You adore Utahime, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't accept her invitation to visit the school with ulterior motives in mind. (You'd be a littledisappointed if you don't run into Gojo midday during the work week, you suppose.)

It doesn't matter if you don't run into the AWOL half of your situationship though, because you're determined to enjoy the architecture and gorgeous scenery of Jujutsu Tech regardless. "You must love working here."

"I do love this place, but my campus is back in Kyoto. This one is Gojo's territory."

"Gojo didn't strike me as the religious type."

Utahime shrugs her shoulders. "You'd be surprised." (If nurturing a raging God complex counted as worship, then Gojo was the most religious man in all of Japan.) "Speak of the devil!"

Something in Utahime's tone is a little too undisgusted—you suspect foul play. "What devil?"

She gestures to the nearby vending machine, which has spit back out a frustrated-looking Gojo's cash once more. "We should go say hi."

You glare at her. "I thought you didn't like seeing Gojo around."

"I don't." (She feels bad, because she really does like you, but seeing Gojo at your bedside had confirmed something was wrong—badly—and she couldn't afford to lose the trail you'd brought to her attention until she found out how you were causing Gojo's shifted energy. If Gojo couldn't overcome his guilt about your attack on his own, she'd have to force him through it.)

She drags you along (she was ridiculously strong, what the hell) to where Gojo's violently banging against the glass of the machine until it angrily spits out his soft drink.

"Ah, finally~!"

"Good afternoon, Gojo."

"Huh?"

You wave shyly.

He swings around on one of his long legs with his cold drink in hand, ready to speed-walk out of whatever the hell Utahime had dragged him into on a Tuesday, but she's grabbed his collar before he can escape. "What are the odds of you two running into each other here?"