glassed in a translucent dream || gojohime

the third year

Gojo licked his nose.

He had long lost track of the time.

How long had it been since he'd been abandoned? Eighteen hours? Twenty? He wasn't sure.

He silently cursed himself for not clinging to Utahime more before she'd left. He'd instead taken to lazily watching her curl her satiny hair into loose waves, spectated as she painted her lips red with rouge. Watched her drape her svelte body in a short, skin-tight dress, ruched at the chest, red fabric splitting into a large V at the back.

By the time he realized that, no, she wasn't treating him to a nice fashion show as a break from her constant moping — and what he liked to call "bad vibes" — she had already left the house, ecru Louboutins 1 clacking away, door shutting in his face.

The last thing he saw was bright red.

He expected her to be back around midnight, most likely going out to have a drink with her friends, something he knew even as a human she had a predilection for. Perhaps they'd be celebrating society's gradual convalescence from the Culling Games.

However, he could see the sun begin to dip into the horizon, melting into the heavens, coloring the foyer in hues of gold, amber, crimson.

Violent images ran through his head, superluminal bullets.

Although all the circumstances differed, they all ended the same way - with Utahime's bloody carcass.

He could no longer feel his limbs, nerves numbed, the feeling of hard tile pressed against the side of his head waning.

He shrinked into the floor, gazing at the aureate sky, waiting.

Waiting for his owner to arrive, to come home, to drown him in love, explain just exactly why she had forsaken him. He'd ignore her apologies, show her only his back, and reluctantly succumb after a few minutes of her doting. Just like always.

He raised his head the moment he heard the smallest sound, then sadly lowered it upon realizing it was either a figment of his imagination or the wind playing tricks on him.

He stared at the darkening sky, feelings blackening with it.

Just as he was thinking of how he could probably still use some cursed energy to break down the door and look for her himself, he caught wind of an ever-growing susurrus emanating from the outside.

"Thanks for lunch and driving me home!"

"Don't mention it. Let me take you out again. Sunday good?"

"Sunday sounds perfect!"

Gojo's ear flicked.

The two outside bid farewell. He heard a rustle of metal clanking together, then a push. Soft footsteps treading against the floor.

He opened his eyes to stare at Utahime.

He couldn't believe it. All his worrying had been for naught. She had absquatulated with this stranger and abandoned her beloved cat?

She gasped. "Noodle! How long have you been waiting here for?"

Gojo meowed mournfully, looking her up and down, eyes drooping upon seeing her dressed in someone else's clothes. Clothes that smelled of someone else. He opened his jaws, tasting the air, glaring as he found that her entire being ranked of the person she'd been chatting with outside. At this rate, the entire house would stink.

Sometimes his heightened sense of smell was incredibly helpful. This was not one of those times.

It didn't take a genius to realize just what she'd been up to for the past couple of hours.