Chapter Text
The man that walked into her classroom was not what Utahime was expecting. When she had made a call regarding one of her students, she’d been more focused on the student than what his guardian would look like. Megumi was clever and did his homework without fail, but he also had a habit of getting into fights with other students. While her colleagues were ready to consider the boy a lost cause, Utahime wasn’t about to give up hope, so she reached out to the man who had taken him in.
As she sat behind her desk in her classroom waiting for the guardian to arrive, she flipped through Megumi’s file. His mother had died shortly and very suddenly after his birth, an aneurysm that no one had noticed. His father had spiraled afterward and was arrested multiple times for various reasons. On top of that, he had forced them to relocate often, so Megumi had bounced around various schools until finally, his father abandoned them. After being placed briefly in the care of his father’s family, he and his older stepsister were taken in by one Gojo Satoru.
The records were a little fuzzy there and she couldn’t figure out exactly how a single man in his early twenties managed to gain custody of two children seemingly unrelated to them, but regardless, he had given them a better life. He’d enrolled them into an expensive Catholic school, citing Megumi’s late mother’s wishes. And so they went from struggling and neglected to a life where they could have anything they asked for.
But of course, such an unruly early childhood would create an unruly child themselves. Megumi could be very well-behaved. He didn’t interrupt in class, turned his homework in on time, and didn’t cause the usual, disruptive problems that many children his age did. She knew that his acting out wasn’t typical either. The last time she’d had to pull him into her office was because he’d punched another boy in the face, knocking out a tooth. When asked why he’d done it, Megumi had simply shrugged and said the other boy was picking on one of the other kids on the playground.
He was a good kid, and Utahime was determined to do everything she could to protect him. She would not fail him like many of the other adults in his life. Plus, she knew what children could be like. The way they were treated by authority figures, both religious and secular, when they were younger often reflected their beliefs in the future. If she failed him, if this school failed him, then essentially the church would have failed him as well, and he’d never forget that.
A knock on her door pulled her attention away from the file. She closed it quickly, responding with a simple, “Come in,” and lifted her head as the door opened.
Utahime prided herself on being collected and professional, but even her eyes widened when Gojo Satoru stepped into the room. Although she hadn’t exactly known what to expect when it came to Megumi’s guardian, she wouldn’t have expected someone as handsome as him. Tall but not lanky, with perfectly tousled white hair, unblemished skin, and toothy grin that could’ve probably been used in toothpaste commercials, Utahime was taken aback. His suit was tailored as well, although the top few buttons were casually undone, just enough to hint at the muscle underneath.
For a moment, her throat felt dry. The only thing that felt odd about him was the dark sunglasses he wore despite being indoors, but that only seemed to add to his good looks. She tried to swallow imperceptibly, tearing her eyes away from him and gesturing to a chair she’d pulled to the front of her desk.
“My apologies for calling you so abruptly and asking you to meet me here,” Utahime greeted in an attempt to gather her thoughts, shuffling the papers around on her desk. “My office is having some renovations done.”
A pipe had randomly burst in the ceiling while she’d been having a session with one of her other students, a young and very stubborn girl named Kugisaki Nobara. Like Megumi, she had been a recent transfer to the school and was also having some trouble adjusting, having come from a much smaller town before. So here she was, having a parent-teacher conference in her classroom, which wasn’t exactly meant for adults.
“It’s fine,” Gojo said casually, sitting down in the chair. It was too small for him. She noticed that immediately as he leaned back, his long legs spread out so far that his feet touched her desk. “You wanted to talk to me about Megumi? He isn’t in trouble, is he?”
Utahime hesitated, stilling her hands. “Well…”
As she explained the situation, Gojo listened carefully. His face remained impassive the entire time, to the point where she wasn’t sure he was actually listening to her. It was hard to get a read on him, especially with those glasses. Halfway through, she almost asked him if he could take them off but then thought better of it. This was about Megumi, so she would focus on him. Other than crossing one leg over his knee to bounce his foot, he was still and quiet until the very end.
Once she was finished, Utahime fell into an awkward silence. She cleared her throat and carefully prompted, “I don’t want to presume anything, but he seems to be struggling with...structure. It’s an unusual case, but I was curious what his home life was like.”
Gojo tilted his head. “You wanna know how I’m raising him?”
Utahime folded her hands over top of her desk. “Forgive me for saying – but his adoption was under very unusual circumstances, right?” Gojo nodded. “I don’t need details. I’m just wondering if his behavior is any different outside of school, if there’s something we need to fix here or if I need to work with him more.”
The grin from before was back on his face, sharper this time. “Religion not cutting it?”
“I take it you’re not religious,” Utahime said.
“In my experience, most people that devote themselves to God are some of the most corrupt and despicable out there,” Gojo replied without hesitation. His candidness and indifferent distaste caught her off guard, especially considering they were sitting in a religious institution. Then, he shrugged. “To be fair, I never found much use for it myself after I got older, but his mother wanted him to attend this school. Who am I to deny a mother’s dream?”
Utahime eyed him. “That’s very...considerate of you.”
“It’s the least I can do,” Gojo said. “Megumi is a good kid, but he’s got some troubles. A chip on his shoulder for sure, even at this age, and an inherent dislike and distrust for adults. I figured you nuns would be able to instill some discipline in him if anything.”
“I’m not a nun,” Utahime dismissed as she wrote down a few notes.
Gojo uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “Really? I thought all the teachers here were.”
“No, I’ve considered it, but–” Utahime looked up, only to see that his glasses had fallen down the bridge of his nose slightly. Although not fully revealed, she caught the bright blue color of his eyes, so vivid that she found herself lost in them for a moment. When she realized she was staring, she snapped back into focus and looked away again, ignoring the obvious interest on his face. “I’ve received my master’s in theology, so I’m a teacher, but I’m not…”
“Why this school then?” Gojo asked curiously.
“There was an opening and I knew someone on the staff, so it was...fortuitous.” Utahime sat upright and fixed him with a determined look. “Megumi is very bright, and I think he has an even brighter future ahead of him, but he needs more attention. You said he has a dislike for adults? Has he been disruptive at home or said anything concerning?”
“His father ditched him and the family that took him in were pieces of shit, so I imagine that covers all the bases,” Gojo answered casually. She didn’t say anything, keeping her lips pressed together as she stared back at him in return. Realizing she was waiting, he continued, “We’re working on it, but it’s hard. He doesn’t like bullies or anyone he deems as ‘bad’. He’s got a lot of...pent-up energy and aggression. You think sports might help?”
Utahime hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe, but I wouldn’t push him into it unless he’s shown an interest in one. His whole life has been chaotic, leaving him feeling as if he doesn’t have any choice, so he’s likely lashing out in an attempt to gain some sort of control.”
“You get a degree in psychology too?” Gojo asked teasingly.
“Has he shown interest in any sort of hobby outside of fighting bullies?” Utahime asked instead, keeping a straight face. She had actually double-majored for her bachelor's degree, but they were not here to talk about her.
Gojo considered her question for a moment. “I’ve caught him watching some of the baseball games at the park. I don’t know about playing, but he seems curious.”
Utahime perked up in excitement. “That’s a start! We don’t have a team here – we’re much too small of a school – but I know of some local little league teams that he could join. The season is about to start, and we have a handful of students his age that also signed up. The coaches have all been vetted for and are really devoted to teaching the kids, and it could give Megumi an opportunity to spend time with other kids and also redirect his energy into something healthier.”
“You seem very knowledgeable in this area,” Gojo pointed out.
“I, ah–” Utahime sank in her seat, returning to a more professional position. “I was never allowed to play growing up, but I’ve always had an interest in the sport.”
“You weren’t allowed to play?” Gojo tilted his head. “Because you were a girl?”
“Well, it wasn’t considered proper,” Utahime said. Neither had been going to grad school, but she’d managed to keep herself from getting in too much trouble since she’d paid her own way and had pointed out that she was furthering her spiritual education as well. “But we don’t do that here. The teams are co-ed, so Megumi would be able to play with both boys and girls. I think working on his social skills and behavior could really help him adjust.”
Leaning back in the chair again, Gojo asked, “So I’m assuming these aren’t religious-affiliated teams. No praying before the game or giving it up to Jesus or that sort of thing?”
Utahime coughed, a hand over her mouth, then shook her head. “No. This is just about the kids and the game. Some of these children don’t have much of a home to go back to, so playing sports helps give them a place, protects them, teaches them something about themselves.” She shifted in her seat, feeling strangely warm under Gojo’s gaze even with his sunglasses covering his eyes again. “I’ve been involved with the program since college. It’s really quite nice.”
“How considerate of you,” Gojo said with a smile, returning her stilted compliment to her in a much smoother fashion. “I don’t recall teachers going this far out of their way to protect kids when I was in school. You’re very passionate about your work, huh. This your dream job?”
“It’s–” Utahime flattened her hands on top of her desk in an attempt to still them. She didn’t know why she felt so fidgety right now. It wasn’t like her. “It’s important to me, along with the kids. I just want to make sure I don’t fail them.”
“Of course.” Gojo glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was after six o’clock, which was far later than she liked to stay at the school, but it was the earliest he could meet her. Something about his job keeping him late. When she’d asked where Megumi was while he was at work, he had said something about a close family friend watching them. “What are you doing after this?”
“Oh, um…” Utahime blinked, trying to remember herself. “Getting something to eat. I worked through lunch today and forgot to eat, so I should probably do that before going home.”
“No one at home to cook dinner for you?” Gojo asked, his eyes locked on her again.
Utahime shook her head stiffly. “Nope, just me, not even a cat.”
“Let me take you out then,” Gojo said with all the confidence in the world.
Her face instantly burned. “Oh, no, I couldn’t. Besides, you’re one of my student’s guardians, so it would be improper–”
“I think we could talk better outside of here,” Gojo cut in smoothly, still confident. “Nothing against you personally, but I’ve always found places like this to be a little...stifling. Maybe Megumi is having trouble with that as well since it’s so new to him.” He held out a hand. “You need to eat, I need to eat, and we both need to figure out how to help that kid. Maybe getting out here could give us more clarity and allow us to talk more candidly.”
He’s quite the smoothtalker, was Utahime’s first thought.
It was easy to get lulled by him, and she suddenly found herself looking at a different man. Was this how he’d managed to get custody of two kids? And why? She couldn’t deny that she was curious, and if he was perhaps holding back because of his own discomfort, then maybe… But no, she really shouldn’t. While she would remain as professional as possible, it wouldn’t be good to be seen in public with one of her student’s guardians. Granted, no one would know, and she was hungry. Mei Mei would tell her to get a free meal out of him if he was going to be difficult.
“Okay,” Utahime said, “but only to discuss Megumi further.”
Gojo grinned broadly. “Right, right, of course.”
Even as her heart fluttered, her stomach turned. There was something about that grin that felt off to her, but she couldn’t put a finger on it. Well, a man as handsome as him was probably used to sweeping women right off their feet. She could picture him as a playboy, although she couldn’t imagine taking in two kids had made that kind of life easy for him. Honestly, even if she felt a bit thrown off by him, she couldn't deny wanting to know more.
One dinner couldn’t hurt.
*
It turned out one dinner could definitely hurt.
Gojo was charming in a way that Utahime had never truly experienced before. Okay, so she had grown up very sheltered and likely would’ve turned away from religion had she not gone to college and found friends and teachers that guided her back to her own faith. She’d even dated sporadically throughout college – getting her first kiss, holding hands, cuddling, all that innocent stuff – but she would be the first to admit that she wasn’t experienced.
But no, not Gojo, he was something else entirely. He was like a tornado, sucking everyone on the edge into his world without a care about what they were doing previously. Despite it being a Friday night, Utahime had been prepared to grab something from a bodega, maybe work out at the local gym, and then go home to watch some TV or read before bed. It might be a little lonely, but it was peaceful.
Gojo was not peaceful. He was full of life, energy, excitement, danger. Though he never outright crossed a line with her at dinner, she could tell he enjoyed toeing it a little too much.
And the fact that he’d managed to convince her to have a beer (or three) didn’t help either.
“I just don’t understand why such a pretty girl as yourself would waste your time in such a boring, stiff place like that,” Gojo sighed, his face cupped in his hands and his elbows propped on the table. He was cute, she thought, kind of like a puppy. Still wearing his sunglasses as well, which was weird since they were inside a lowlight restaurant, but probably for the best considering how much she’d stared at him when they were off even a hair.
Utahime set the pint glass down, careful not to slosh the drink. It was her third one, and she was very determined to take it slow. “It’s really important to me,” she explained. “I didn’t have the best relationship with my parents or religion growing up, but I really found myself later on. If I can help kids not struggle in the beginning – to show them they’re accepted – then maybe I can do some good later down the road.”
“Yeah, but can’t you do that in a public school?” Gojo asked. “I’m sure there are some poor, helpless, desperate inner-city kids in need of someone as caring as you.”
“We all have our paths,” Utahime told him. “I hadn’t really planned on becoming a teacher, but then my friend called about the opening and I put in an application on a whim and…” She gestured vaguely. “Here I am.”
Gojo grinned. “And here you are, out for dinner with me.”
Utahime poked him in the forehead. “Discussing one of my students with his guardian.”
He moved to snatch her hand, but she pulled it back before he could, resting it around her drink. He didn’t seem to mind it, that playful look still on his face. Utahime had to look away, focusing on the amber liquid in her glass. Gosh, she hadn’t had more than one drink in a while. Aside from Mei Mei, who drank expensive liquor either neat or on the rocks exclusively, no one else at the school drank. Maybe they had a glass of wine, but that was pretty much it.
A part of Utahime was a little giddy with excitement. It felt good to go out, to be around other people her age, to just...be in the environment and world. Sometimes, as much as she loved her job and believed in her faith wholeheartedly, she felt bogged down by the people running it. They had made it clear that there was no room for error for her, not at the school or in the church. Having dinner with Gojo, indulging in a few drinks like she hadn’t done since college, was nice and eased the tension she’d felt all week.
And it was admittedly a tad bit...naughty.
After taking a sip of her drink, Utahime said, “Okay, you’ve pestered me about my job and such, so it’s my turn now.”
Gojo raised an eyebrow. “Turning the tables on me, are we?”
“Yes.” Utahime leaned forward, and he did so as well. She should probably pull back, but she didn’t. He wasn’t too close. He wasn’t touching her. The restaurant was loud at this time, so he’d probably leaned forward to hear her better. “You’re young, well-off, handsome–”
“Why thank you,” Gojo quipped.
“–and clearly unattached to anyone,” Utahime continued, pointedly ignoring him. “Why would you choose to adopt two children that you seem to have no connection with? Megumi is eight, and Tsumiki is ten, and they’ve both been through a lot. You’re not exactly…”
“Father figure material?” Gojo offered.
Utahime gave him a flat look. “You just don’t seem like the type, is all.”
“Maybe I’ve got a bleeding heart under these good looks,” Gojo teased.
Utahime shook her head, and he pouted. No, she didn’t think that was it. There had to be something more to it, something he didn’t like talking about. Well, he’d grilled her on her religious beliefs for half the dinner when they were supposed to be talking about his charge, so the least he could do was give her a hint.
Sitting back, Gojo let out a sigh. “I knew his father, ah, through work.” He pinched the end of the thin straw in his fruity cocktail, spinning the ice around the glass. “I guess you could say I owed him a debt, so when he bounced, I looked up his kid to see how he was fairing.” He shrugged. “He wasn’t doing too hot, so I pulled some strings, and now I’m a single dad to a very difficult boy and his much nicer sister.”
“That’s quite the debt,” Utahime said softly. “Do you...know what happened to his father?”
“Eh, he’s gone,” Gojo answered carelessly. “Doesn’t really matter why, not to Megumi at least.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Utahime murmured, half to herself. “He never wants to talk about it.”
“He’s a difficult kid, for sure, but somebody’s gotta raise him.” Gojo plucked the straw from his cocktail and stuck it in his mouth, his lips tugging upward in a grin to bare his teeth. “You ever think about having kids? Isn’t that the most glorious thing a woman can do for the Church? Be fruitful and such?”
Utahime blushed and gave him a look of contempt, which only made his grin broaden. “I thought about it, sure, and it’s likely what my family wants, but…” She looked down at her drink. “I don’t know if it’s in the cards for me. My students are my children, for now. I can appreciate them.”
“No settling down with a pious man and popping out a bunch of good, little, Christian kids?”
Wrinkling her nose, Utahime complained, “For someone who willingly became a single dad to two kids, you make having a family sound so crass and terrible.”
Gojo pulled the straw out from his teeth with a snap. “All I’m saying is that I never see women given much credit when it comes to religion.”
There it was again – that slight, as if God, the church, or religion itself had insulted or hurt him somehow. He wasn’t alone in thinking this way, not by a long shot. Just as many people had been hurt by religion as had been helped. It was a double-edged sword, one she’d struggled to shoulder for a long time. There was following the belief of leaders in the community and following your own, and not everyone was given a choice.
Humanity wouldn’t have been given free will if they weren’t allowed to choose how to believe in their faith.
“You seem awfully antagonistic towards religion,” Utahime pointed out. “Do you not believe in God?”
“Oh no, I believe in him alright,” Gojo replied with ease. He snorted derisively. “I just don’t think he believes in me. I’m a bit too far gone, I’m afraid.”
Utahime frowned. “I don’t believe that.”
Gojo eyed her steadily. Then again, that was only his second drink, and she’d caught the way he had asked for more mixer than alcohol. “So you think everyone is capable of being saved? There’s not a single soul out there that isn’t beyond grace?”
“Well…” Utahime hesitated.
It was a trick question, she knew, one that a lot of people fell into. She was supposed to say yes – God would save anyone that believed and asked for forgiveness – but she also knew the hypocrisy of the church quite well. She’d witnessed it firsthand countless times – the way they’d turn away people simply because they didn’t fit the mold that men had created. It wasn’t fair.
On top of that, Utahime knew evil existed in the world. Sheltered as she’d been growing up, she had not been exempt from seeing it or from being touched by it.
“I suppose some people don’t want to be saved,” Utahime settled on saying. “If they refuse God, then there’s no saving them.” He nodded; whether in agreement or understanding, she wasn’t sure. It was a sad thought. Some people, she knew, would never accept things, but she still wanted to help them. Maybe she was too nice. That would be bled from her eventually if she kept giving so much of herself away to others. “What about you?”
“Pretty sure the big man upstairs gave up on me a long time ago,” Gojo said with a laugh. She twisted her lips at his casual response. She’d answered seriously, hoping that he would respond in turn, but no, he’d turned it into a joke. He relaxed in his seat, considering her with a look that could only be described as faintly amused. “You’ve got a good heart, and you’re stubborn, I can tell, more than what is probably liked by those self-righteous bastards – which means you earnestly hope for the best and genuinely try to see the good in others. Not everyone has that.”
Utahime’s frown deepened. “And you’re saying you don’t have any? Even after taking Megumi and Tsumiki into your home and away from the people that were hurting them?”
“I didn’t do it out of the kindness of my heart,” Gojo answered honestly.
“I don’t think a debt covers the truth either,” Utahime countered. “There’s something more to you.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Gojo leaned in and pulled his sunglasses down. “Care to find out?”
Even in the dimly lit restaurant, his eyes were too bright, glittering like crystal. She wanted to look away, but it was hard, the glow of them pulling her closer to him. He must’ve gotten a lot of girls this way, she reasoned. He seemed like the type – instead of bothering with flowery words and playing pretend, his candidness knocked people off balance, his smiles sharp and exciting, his casual flirtation tempting.
Essentially, he was the type of man that every nun, teacher, priest, and parent had warned her about, and yet here she was, sitting close enough for him to touch her.
Utahime pulled herself back, forcibly snapping herself out of the moment. “I should go home.”
Gojo tsked in disappointment and sat upright. “Right, can’t have you turning into a pumpkin – or a nun. That’d be a real shame.”
She finished her drink, too quickly to enjoy it, but she was afraid of what would happen if she took it slowly. There was definitely something about Gojo that threw her off. She’d never met a person in her life who affected her like this – who made her feel almost drunker than alcohol. It was odd. She’d watched her friends get swept off their feet by pretty boys with pretty words, only to find them crying a few weeks later, but she had never been one herself. It rather irritated her.
After waving the waitress over, Utahime opened her mouth to ask her to split the bill, but then Gojo handed over a black credit card before the girl could even set the black book down. When she left to run the card, he winked at Utahime and said, “I said I’d take you out. A pretty girl like you deserves to be treated once in a while – and you’ve done a lot to help Megumi, more than I expected of anyone from that school, so allow me to show you my gratitude.”
“I–” Utahime fiddled with the empty pint glass between her hands. “Okay, thank you.”
“Any time,” Gojo quipped, and she was positive he meant it. Responding to him would only lead to a discussion, so she wisely kept her mouth shut. He knew it too, but thankfully, he didn’t call her out on it. She wasn’t sure what she’d say in response.
After the waitress returned and Gojo added a very generous tip along with his signature, they got up to leave. Utahime had to hop down from the stool in order to stand, her feet having been hanging in the air the whole time. Gojo seemed to seamlessly glide out from his chair, his feet having never left the ground. He plucked her jacket from the back of her chair and held it out for her to slide her arms into the sleeves. Such an innocent, gentlemanly gesture made her cheeks burn, especially when he smoothed down the collar, his hands brushing her neck.
The cold air that washed over them the moment they stepped outside was a welcomed relief. She had started to feel too warm inside, his proximity to her body as they weaved their way through the crowd waiting to be seated all too apparent. He’d probably pressed himself up against her just a little on purpose. She thought to ask him about Megumi again – it was rather late, wasn’t it? – but she couldn’t get the question out of her mouth even in the early fall chill.
“Do you need a ride home?” Gojo asked.
Utahime shook her head. “I only live a few blocks down. I can walk.”
“This late at night?” Gojo pressed. “You sure that’s safe? You might be willing to give people the benefit of the doubt, but I know what they’re like at this hour.” It was true that she didn’t normally walk this late at night by herself. She was normally already home and in her pajamas. “Let me walk you home.” She frowned again. “I don’t want something bad to happen to Megumi’s favorite teacher. He’d be devastated.”
“Favorite teacher?”
Gojo smiled and brushed away a strand of hair from her face. “It’s true that he doesn’t like most adults and he abhors authority figures, but he’s rather fond of you. He said you’re nice, and he’s always so moody after you express your disappointment in him. That’s quite the compliment.”
It was a nice thought. She had worried that Megumi didn’t like her. Not that all of her students would – it was hard when she had to act as an authoritarian figure, and she knew how resistant kids could be to lessons – but she took great care in teaching and being a supportive beam as well. Perhaps she wasn’t doing as poorly with Megumi as she’d feared.
“So will you let me make sure you get home safe?” Gojo asked again.
Utahime sighed and started walking in the direction of her apartment. “If it makes you feel better, but I know how to take care of myself.”
“Take a few defense classes in between Bible study?”
“More like pepper spray and a knife,” Utahime shot back without missing a beat.
Gojo let out a whistle as he walked beside her. “So much for turning the other cheek.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t comment on his joke. By now, she was kind of used to it, even if they annoyed her as well. Whatever his issues with religion or God were, they were clearly deep-seeded, and he didn’t plan on changing them any time soon. He could have his jokes; she knew where she stood and wasn’t about to falter.
For the rest of the walk, they conversed in some more smalltalk, mainly about Megumi. He swore he’d speak with him about baseball, and she promised to email him more information tonight. It was safer this way. Her eyes looked for anything that stood out, as she normally did when she walked alone, but no one was intent on bothering them. In fact, two men walking toward them abruptly jaywalked across the street to the other sidewalk, but Gojo didn’t seem to notice as he walked beside her and spoke.
Nothing seemed to bother him, not even the way she kept a few inches between them.
Once they reached her place, a small apartment building tucked in between two larger ones, Utahime fumbled to get her keys from her purse. “It’s not much, but I’ve made it a home.”
“I’m sure it’s just as lovely as you,” Gojo said.
Utahime rolled her eyes. “Is this how you get girls to bring you inside?”
Gojo grinned, flashing his canines. “Maybe.”
“Thank you for the dinner and the walk,” Utahime told him, looking him in the eyes.
“Of course.”
The sunglasses were still on. How could he possibly see on this dark street? The nearest street lamp flickered, bathing them in darkness and then light, but he kept his eyes on her while she glanced up. Strange. That hadn’t happened before in the two years she’d lived here, but maybe it was finally in need of being replaced. This wasn’t the fanciest of neighborhoods, after all, not like the one listed in Megumi’s file.
Gathering her thoughts, Utahime politely said, “Goodnight.”
She had thought that might be it, and she could turn and get away from him scot-free, but then Gojo leaned down and pressed his lips against her cheek. He seemed to take special care not to come close to her lips, but her cheek still burned hotly. It was chaste, innocent, sweet even, especially after walking her home, reminding her of something in a romance movie – but there was also something in the way he lingered a hint longer than normal that made her heart beat frantically in her chest.
It didn’t feel innocent at all. Even with a kiss on the cheek, this man was obviously indecent, and her body flushed in response.
When he pulled back, Gojo wore a look on his face that suggested he knew exactly what she was thinking, but he simply said, “Night, Miss Iori,” and started back down the sidewalk. Utahime watched him go, flummoxed and strangely breathless, until she shook her head at herself and scurried up the stoop to the main door.
She had thought she’d have a few more answers after speaking with Megumi’s guardian, but now her mind was swirling with questions – and questions, in her experience, could be a dangerous thing. In the safety of her apartment, she tried not to think about them or him, but it was difficult to shake Gojo from her mind, as if the thought of him was a plague she couldn’t rid herself of.
There was just something about him that she couldn’t put a finger on, and, much to her frustration and maybe delight, she had a feeling he wouldn’t let her forget him so easily either.