val

“she’s sticking her tongue out at me,” he says, and he feels a bit dejected at the thought of his daughter resenting him. he looks at her, then back at you, “did you teach her that?” rin asks quietly as he gently rocked her back and forth in his arms. “because i didn’t.”

“oh.”

“oh?”

“rin,” you chuckle, clearly amused. this made your husband even more confused.

what was so funny?

as cute as your daughter is, he still minded the way she always stuck out her tongue at him. and rin, knowing himself, would’ve let it slide the first few times, often entertaining her by mirroring the expression, but she only ever seemed to do it to him and no one else. the baby, the angel that she is, never did that to you, to his family, or even to his older brother.

he was sure that sae taught her that, and the mere thought of it being true slightly annoyed rin.

“rin,” you start, “she got that from you, y’know?”

your husband is brought back to reality as he processes your words.

from him?

“from me?” he asks, glancing at his daughter, who giggled at him, leaning her chubby cheek on his chest. rin swore his heart melted on the spot, and that all problems had been cleared, though not quite . . .

“yes, you. we were looking at your baby album earlier, and most of your pictures were pictures of you sticking your tongue out at the camera, so i guess she’s mirroring you,” you told him, holding it together to not burst out laughing at his dumbfounded expression. “plus, she watched a highlight of your career video online. most of the clips were when you’re so engrossed in the match that you stick out your tongue, love.”

you shrug your shoulders, happily smiling toward your little girl. “it seems that someone’s copying her daddy, huh?”

“oh.”

a faint blush blooms on rin’s face, and he tries to hide it by turning away from you, though you’re just as quick to persuade him to face you once more. “you’re copying me, hm?” he says to her. “that’s cute.”

in turn, the little sunshine giggles, sticking out her tongue at him, her eyes squeezed shut as she places her small hands on either side of rin’s cheek.

“bleh!” she cheers.

rin sighs, a small smile appearing on his lips. “bleh,” he mirrors her.

of course, you managed to snap a photo of the undeniably cute scene. you smiled triumphantly at yourself as you took a good look at the two in your phone’s gallery. this would be a great addition to her baby album, you think, plus it’s so adorable to see her pick up one of rin’s mannerisms that he carried with him until adulthood.

it certainly was like father, like daughter.

It is shattered in an instant and Gojo’s eyes become clouded with the weight of the reality of the jujutsu world. He drops your hand in the midst of dancing, leaving you standing in the rain, nothing to block out or distract you from the biting cold that stings against your skin. The death of Amanai Riko shakes Gojo to his core; both him and Geto, and he slips far beyond your reach. He’s there but he isn’t, and when you try to reach out to him, you feel as if he’s raised Infinity against you too.

The weight of the world seems to crash upon his shoulders as the applauses that he once reveled in became a dull roar in the back of his mind. Blurred faces haunt his memories and when you try to ask, Gojo shakes his head, mumbling that he doesn’t want to talk about what happened.

You don’t break up, but sometimes, you think that maybe, it would have been easier if things had ended then.

twenty — tolerate it Your heart drops when you hear that Geto has now been labeled as a curse user and is to be executed on sight. You refuse to believe that this boy that you’ve spent the last few years with in high school had suddenly turned his back to you, to Shoko, to Gojo. Gojo. 

“Satoru?” your voice is quiet but it cuts through the silence of his dorm room. You poke your head into the dark room, barely making out his figure leaning against his desk, head in hands and hair falling over his face. He doesn’t acknowledge your presence and when you step into his room, you feel as if you’ve fallen into a trap. The tension is thick and choking and you hold your breath as you approach him. His eyes are closed and you watch the steady rise and fall of his chest. The soft huffs of breath are the only sound that accompanies you in this silence.

“Satoru?” your call of his name for the second time makes his head raise, just barely tilting to acknowledge your presence. At twenty, you are caught between a teenager and an adult and amidst your own struggles, you realize that you don’t quite know what to do anymore. It shouldn’t have taken you this long to try to talk to him, because now that the distance has begun to stretch thin, you find that you are running out of things to say. How does one comfort a loved one who has lost another when, to him, you would never understand what it feels like to grapple with this turmoil. His words, not yours, remind yourself, mind flashing back to the last argument you had, one that ended with heaving chests and two stubborn teenagers. Only this time, you had Shoko to turn to, and Gojo had no one else. 

“Please, stop trying,” his voice is raspy but it hurts to hear. You realize that he’s far gone from your reach and this distance that you had once thought might be good for both you and him has instead come back around to tear you apart. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.” The cycle repeats and he shuts you out once more despite each tallied attempt.

You say “I love you” to a seemingly empty room, the words clinging to nothing but the dust and shadows that you feel like you’ve been talking to this whole time. 

twenty-one — happiness Gojo Satoru never flinches. He takes the punches without batting an eye and strikes back even harder, knowing exactly where it hurts. He knows which cuts will bleed the most until you are left with nothing but pride to grapple with. 

You break up with him when you are both twenty-one. Four years together is shattered in an instant. Your voice doesn’t waver, doesn’t break, and neither do you. But he just stands there, eyes covered by sunglasses and takes it. It’s not messy, there are no raised voices, just the weight of exhaustion of two lovers who have pulled a string taut. Loving turns to waiting for the other to take the scissors and cut the string, but both are too stubborn to make the first move. And when given the opportunity, when he slips you the scissors behind your back you make the final decision. Emotions feel like a whirlwind in the moment as you grapple with knowing that you are the one to end four years of happiness. 

“I’m moving to Kyoto, I want a new start and Utahime is looking for a new roommate,” you say when the worst of it has passed. A few months down the line and you find that staying in Tokyo is only doing more harm. You become caught between growing tensions and your own internal conflict. So when Shoko offhandedly mentions moving somewhere new, but still with hesitance in her tone, and Utahime reaching out with regards to her new apartment, you jump at the new opportunity. For some reason, Gojo is the first person you decide to tell. He glances at you with a smile, teeth peeking out between his lips. You freeze at the sight, horrified at the cruel realization that you can’t quite tell if Gojo is truly happy for you to be starting anew, or if this winning smile of his was already starting to turn into a smirk.

“Don’t miss me too much!” ever the tease, Gojo tilts his head down so he can make eye contact, as if giving you one last look at those beautiful eyes of his before he hides them away. You’ll miss those eyes of his, you think; those ever knowing eyes that seem to see through you and break past every wall that you’ve built.

He does see through it all, so in tune with your emotions and every little twitch of your eyes and lips. Gojo is well aware of his own faults in this fall, but stubborn as he is, and selfish in his want to keep things civil, he doesn’t say anything else. His heart drops at the news of your departure. He can keep himself emotionally distant but physically? Perhaps this time you’re the one slipping beyond his reaches.

twenty-eight — long story short Utahime tells you that Gojo has taken in a new kid. You choke on your tea at the words until she clarifies that he’s simply taken in a boy to Jujutsu Tech (not custody over another kid, you hope that poor Megumi is doing well dealing with this man-child). At twenty-eight you know you’ve moved fast past your teenage romance that was Gojo Satoru. Now, you laugh at the memories, looking back on faded photos and scrawled love letters that once swept you off your feet.

But still, you find that it’s easy to fall into bad habits. And this one just so happens to be named Gojo Satoru. Ever cocky and teasing with his words and touches, you find yourself spending more time at Jujutsu Tech under the guise of working with Okkotsu Yuuta. Gojo finds his ways to slip back into your life, whether it's to bring you sweets he picked up as he was coming in late to work, or try to pester you about what it’s like to live with Utahime. There are no issues with humouring him, after all, you’ve had seven years of reflection. 

But seven years later you find yourself in his presence again and Gojo seems to be making every attempt to win you over again. He makes no attempt to hide what he’s trying to do, and you’re horrified to learn that Shoko knows all about it and she finds it rather amusing. 

At twenty-eight, both you and Gojo have had a myriad of experiences under your belt. Maturity comes with age, and while that may be said about the both of you (for the most part), you realize that Gojo still holds onto some of that childish innocence and energy that he did when he was younger. You see it in the way he raises Megumi who responds to his guardian’s attempts with eye rolls and glances over at you for help. You see it in the way he teaches his first years, poor Inumaki, Panda, Maki and Okkotsu staring blankly as their teacher brandishes extra sweet pastries as if it were some sort of reward. 

It is that energy that he brings back into your life that has you stumbling back, indulging in late night invitations to grab food and reminisce about your teenage days. Now, with the alarming lack of physical distance between the two of you, you would be lying if you said the thought never crossed your mind, that if you had stayed, what might have been. 

And one night, when you find yourself tangled up in his arms, you run, cursing his name through confusion and frustration. Seven years down the drain and you feel foolish.

When Gojo wakes to the distance reinstated, he wonders if you both will survive this when it all ends.

twenty-nine — right where you left me You return to Tokyo Jujutsu Tech under Gojo’s request. He texts you out of the blue with emoticons that contradict the severity of the situation at hand. You return with hesitance, walking through old hallways lined with dust and memories of teenagers that ran through with no care in the world. The trek back to your old classroom is one that brings back memories in waves and you can only wonder why Gojo has asked you to meet there. Your old classroom, the one that he now teaches in, with chairs that groan when you sit on them and desks that have markings from your teenage days looks nothing new, and yet it’s unfamiliar. 

Gojo sits with his feet propped up on the desk, chair tipping back precariously as he rocks back and forth, head turned towards the open window with blindfold over his eyes. He sits there, not yet acknowledging your presence, as if he’s been there for ages. The dust from the room seems to swirl around him, but never quite settling on his hair and skin because you know that he has Infinity raised. You wonder when the last time he let it down around you was. 

“What a sad sight,” you joke, “I never thought you would willingly sit in those seats again.” Gojo turns at the sound of your voice and a smile crosses over his lips. You know that he could have sensed you from a mile away, so you can only wonder why he decides to play stupid like this, minding his own business, seemingly caught up in his own thoughts. 

“Sometimes I like to indulge in old memories,” he doesn’t make any effort to move so you take the step forward, crossing through the doorway to enter this room of memories. You’re both older and wiser now and yet you seem to abandon it at the door. 

At twenty-nine you both know what’s coming next. The world has gone to shit and it’s impossible not to see the exhaustion that weighs down upon Gojo Satoru. Your feet move first, then your hands and your body as you embrace him tightly. For a moment you are thrown back in time, locked in the fantasy of seventeen with your arms wound tight around him. To stay here forever, like this, together, is all either of you dreamed of when you were young and stupid.

Fast forward to the present and you find yourself in this same old familiar position with years of history to separate the two of you. In the back of your mind you wonder if this is the right decision to make. You know that Gojo has been trying to return to your life, attempt after attempt chipping away at ivy covered walls as you take every chance to run. But as October peers around the corner, you let yourself fall back into his arms.

And when it’s time to go, when the world calls for the strongest, when it asks for Gojo Satoru to once again make another sacrifice, you hold his face close to yours and throw out all thoughts that this could end badly. 

“I’ll be here, right where you left me.”