for the popsicles

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The next time they saw each other happened to really be the next weekend.

Pure coincidence, Hina reminded herself, blinking at the tall man-child next to her, who had a basket full of sweets and snacks. It was just pure coincidence, probably.

Hina needed to go grocery shopping. It was an urgent matter. She had neglected it long enough, and she finally gave in when she had no more milk to make coffee with. Her local grocery mart was one ten minutes away from her apartment, and her walks there were always peaceful. She allowed her imagination to flow.

Milk was the first thing she needed. Organic, two-percent non-fat milk. She opened the door to a fridge sectioned in the wall, grimacing as she tried to reach for it on the top shelf. It was too high. And it was cold.

And then she felt someone reach over her, and her eyes found a large hand effortlessly grabbing a carton, then lowering it down to her level. She blinked, turning around quickly.

"Ah," Hina raised her eyebrows. She was honestly surprised. "Gojo-sama?"

He waved. "Yo, it's been a while."

She took in his form. He wasn't wearing a jujutsu uniform. In fact, he was wearing incredibly normal clothes. A loose navy-blue long-sleeved shirt that seemed to fit him perfectly. Skinny jeans, and black dress shoes with no laces—his usual pair.

Hina was most surprised about the fact that he wasn't wearing his white blindfold. He sported a simple pair of black shades over his eyes.

Ah. She's staring. She ought to stop making that a recurring habit.

Hina took the milk carton from his hand, bowing quickly. "Thank you."

"No problem."

And that's how she ended up grocery shopping with the strongest sorcerer alive. It was comical, because really—it didn't feel that way. Especially when she caught the man dunking five packs of sweet bread into his basket. It was practically overflowing—it was a surprise that none of it had fallen out yet.

It was also a surprise that he was only getting sweets. It wouldn't hurt to ask, right?

"Gojo-sama," He hummed in response after hearing her, placing three more packets of chocolate sticks into his basket. Hina blinked, then regained her focus once again.

"Why are you only getting sweets? Do you not need . . . other things?"

Hina wouldn't have asked, but she allowed herself to today—at the park, when they were catching up with each other, he had mentioned that he lived in an apartment, not at the estate.

He waved his hand dismissively. "Eh, I have most of that stuff. I don't—" His voice was interrupted with a bubbly gasp that rose from his throat, his lips in a gleeful and wide grin as he cheered excitedly.

Popsicles. This grown man was getting excited over popsicles.

Hina's lips cracked into a small smile. It was confusingly adorable.

"I'm going to check out now." She informed the man-child, obsessing over what flavor he should get. Melon was too strong. Pineapple was too sour. Banana is okay ...but so is matcha, is what Hina gathered from his bubbly choice-making.

Hina adjusted the basket hooked around her elbow. "I'll wait for you outside—"

"Wait, wait, wait," And within a second, Gojo was at her side. Hina was impressed to see all four flavors in his basket (which still had not fallen over, and Hina wished she had the time and place to wonder how. Because how?)

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