Archive of Our Own ^beta

December 24th, 2006

There was no rest for Jujutsu sorcerers. Not even on Christmas Eve, as Utahime Iori learned that evening walking back to the school after taking on back-to-back missions. 

Curse activity often times increased near holidays. While it was a day of joy for many, for others it meant despair. Loneliness, financial hardship, seasonal depression. A recipe for curses to spring up all over Tokyo. 

  The sun had long gone down and the cold settled in, but Utahime was too tired and sore to register it. Her first year as a professional sorcerer and she wished she could say it was going better than it had been but she was alive and that was something. Students were allowed to visit home if they’d like and most of them did, so the halls of Jujutsu High were quiet. She’d been saving to get a place of her own but for now, the spare dorms offered to sorcerers were her home. 

As Utahime passed the common area on her way to her room, the back of a snowy white-haired head made her pause. Satoru Gojo didn’t go home last year and evidently chose to stay again this year. He was sitting alone on one of the couches since his friends elected to leave. It was impossible to sneak past him, Gojo could pick up on the smallest bits of cursed energy. 

He wouldn’t need his ability to sense cursed energy though. With every step she took, the suzu bells she wore twinkled lightly. The metal and straps left behind welts from being pushed into her skin while she fought. Combat was unavoidable and they were stretched so thin that even though it wasn’t her specialty, Utahime had been sent on more and more solo missions. 

So had Gojo, if what Utahime heard had been accurate. The mission over the summer was unsuccessful and the distance between Gojo and the rest of them widened. Whether that was his choice or forces above them, Utahime didn’t think it mattered. The gap existed all the same. 

Gojo turned his head slightly to look over at her. “You look like shit,” he said, as blunt as ever. 

Utahime’s hand twitched. The urge to take her bells off and chuck them at his stupid head crept up inside her. She felt sorry for him for what happened over the summer, even worried. Distraught came to mind too if she thought about it too much. She spent so much time wishing that the infuriating boy would go away but when she was presented with the reality that he wasn’t infallible, Utahime found herself feeling sick at the thought of not having him around. 

She’d rather walk barefoot on glass than admit that to him. 

“At least I’m not sulking alone in the dark,” she said, flipping the lights on. It made him blink rapidly behind his sunglasses. 

“I’d never sulk,” he declared, hopping off the couch.

“No, you’d only sit in the dark all by yourself on a holiday. That’s totally different,” Utahime replied. 

“I’m not by myself anymore,” he pointed out. 

“You’re about to be again,” she said and backed away, intent on continuing the trek back to her room. Exhausted with no energy to put up with Gojo, Utahime shouldn’t have stopped in the first place. 

She could hear him shuffle behind her and soon she had an extra shadow trailing after her. “Oh, come on, Utahime,” he said. 

Gojo had a habit of saying her name when it wasn’t needed. Like he enjoyed hearing it so much out in the open. Utahime and Shoko had a running bet of how many times he’d make an excuse to say it in a given day. She liked it, though. Her name sounded like a prayer on his tongue. Someone was paying attention to her when she often felt like she had to claw her way to any sort of recognition. From Gojo, it was readily given. 

“Utahime,” he said again, a soft inflection in his voice. 

He might put on an uncaring act but Utahime could see the loneliness seep out of the cracks. Last year, he left her alone to do his own thing but since Riko died over the summer, he had been grasping onto anything he could. Utahime wasn’t heartless and if Gojo looked any more like a puppy dog, she could be convinced to give him almost anything. 

“Fine,” she said, his large pleading blue eyes wore her down. “You can stay for a little bit but I’m tired.”

He threw his arm around her shoulders, pulling her towards him. “Utahime spending time with me on Christmas Eve, how romantic?”

Utahime wiggled out from under his arm, ignoring how warm the touch made her. “I’m going to change my mind if you make comments like that.”

Utahime’s room was a haphazard mess. She never fully unpacked any of her stuff because she refused to see the confines of the four walls as her home. But living out of boxes meant clothes and such scattered everywhere. People expected her to be the type of person to be organized without anything out of place but the truth was, she’d always been that messy even without the excuse that she wanted to move soon. 

She picked up clothes she left forgotten on the end of her bed and tossed them in the corner to give Gojo a place to sit. They fell with a thump, Gojo eyeing them as she threw them. The ‘saving for an apartment’ plan was taking longer than she had hoped and having another person witness her disaster made her consider unpacking a few of these boxes. 

“You’re an excellent host,” Gojo said with a teasing smirk as he sat on the edge of her bed. 

“You’re welcome to leave if my room isn’t up to your standards,” she bit back. He’d be a hypocrite if he did, she’d seen his room before. 

Gojo kept his mouth shut but his smirk remained. Even he knew when to not push it too much and still get what he wanted. She sat down on top of the comforter next to him. His pants legs rode up a little, revealing his scrawny ankles, already outgrown them from another growth spurt. Utahime was so tired that even being on a soft surface felt like she was being pulled under and she wouldn’t be able to resist sleep much longer. 

Gojo shifted, something on her nightstand catching his eye. “When did you get this?” he asked. 

“Maybe a week ago.”

In his hands was the Polaroid camera her parents recently got her. An early Christmas gift because she didn’t know when she’d be able to see them next. Over her bed was a corkboard with only one photo pinned to it. She managed to take one of her and Shoko before Shoko went home. The single photo in the middle of the board reminded her that Gojo wasn’t the only one who was lonely. 

He held the camera up and pointed it at her. The flash went off and the camera spat a photo out. Utahime blinked, seeing a spot in her vision from the flare. Gojo pulled the picture out and shook it. Slowly the image began to form inside the square. An unflattering picture of Utahime propped up against her pillows, her eyes unfocused from being caught off guard. 

Gojo stretched over her to tack it on her corkboard. His shirt lifted up a little, making Utahime turn her head to look at the wall instead. She thought it made her board look even more pathetic than before. One picture with her only real friend and one of her at a terrible angle. 

“Don’t waste all my film,” she said when Gojo snapped another picture of her. This time the camera caught her in motion, her hand outstretched to snatch it away from him. Her mouth hung open in mid-sentence, her brows furrowed. 

Gojo held the camera out of her reach, hanging up the other ugly picture on the board. “You’re so photogenic, Utahime,” he laughed. A silly sound on the verge of becoming out of control. 

“I don’t want my board to be just bad pictures of me,” she huffed. 

He threw his arm around her again, catching Utahime off guard. His cheek was pressed against hers and she was sure he could feel the warmth radiating off her skin. Gojo held the camera out, and pointed it towards them. The flash blinded her again. 

The camera ejected the photo and Gojo shook it. His grin in the picture was huge, showing all his teeth. The skin near his eyes crinkled, and his sunglasses had slipped down his nose. Utahime wasn’t smiling at all, instead she stared back with a doe-like expression. Like she had been caught in oncoming traffic. Their cheeks pressed together and Utahime was thankfully washed out. The quality wasn’t good enough to show the pink flushing of her skin.  

“There,” he said, pinning it up on the board next to the one of her and Shoko. “Now people will think you have two friends.”

“I have other friends,” she snapped but at that moment, she couldn’t think of anyone else. 

At some point, Utahime stopped putting up a fight while Gojo giggled to himself, entertained endlessly by her camera. He promised to replace her film and she ran out of things to be annoyed by. It was the most she’d seen him enjoy himself since the death of Riko and Utahime hoped that this was the first step for him to heal and maybe she wouldn’t have to watch him nearly kill himself with overwork or wallow in silence when he didn’t think anyone was around. 

Despite his joyous laughter and the bright flash of the camera going off, the fatigue from her missions finally grabbed hold of her and Utahime fell asleep. She woke up in the middle of the night, feeling disoriented, confused, and with a dry throat. Gojo’s absence was noted. A blanket was pulled over her body and her camera sat on her nightstand where it belonged. 

Utahime got up and changed out of her clothes now that she had privacy. She gulped some water and crawled back into bed. The board was full of pictures now. Many of them were of her and she regarded the couple that were clearly taken while she was asleep with displeasure. But Gojo must have gotten bored of taking so many of her, that he started taking some of himself. 

At the center, the photo of her and Shoko stood alone. The one Gojo took of her and himself was gone. Utahime felt a pang in her chest. Maybe he hated it. Maybe he didn’t want anyone to think that they were friends. It would be her own fault, she kept him at arm’s length all the time. 

She nestled back under the covers, laying on her side so she was face to face with the camera lense. Nothing was more harrowing than the holiday loneliness. 

_____

December 24th, 2010

Utahime was drunk. 

So drunk, that in the depths of her alcohol-soaked brain, she could make out the thoughts of realizing that she was too drunk. The only saving grace was that everyone around her was also too drunk and if she made a fool of herself that night, it was unlikely that anyone would even remember. There was always someone else far more embarrassing than her around at the staff parties. 

She lost her shoes. Her heels made her feet ache so bad that not even alcohol could numb the pain of ill-fitting shoes. Utahime slipped them off and left them somewhere. It was unlikely she’d be going anywhere any time soon. A problem for sober Utahime to sort out in the morning. For now, she was too focused on not throwing up. Her head in her hands, propped up on a table. The tablecloth had started as white at the beginning of the night but had been stained since with beer and wine.  

A water bottle was placed in front of her. Utahime lifted her head up, Gojo looking down at her. A small amused smirk played on his mouth. Recently he had started opting for square-shaped sunglasses and she wasn’t used to them yet. He’d been out of school for a while now. His lean frame filled out more. 

“You look–”

“Like shit,” she finished for him, her words slurred together. 

“Your words, not mine. I was going to say you look good,” he said and Utahime rolled her eyes, letting her head fall back into her hands. 

“What do you want?” she groaned. 

“We need to take our Christmas Eve picture, I’m heading out soon,” he said and Utahime looked back up at him. He held up a digital camera. 

She sat up in her chair and Gojo kneeled beside her, putting them at the same height. He slipped an arm around her back. His face was close to hers and despite her drunken haze, she could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing. The flash was on, the room they were in was too dim to take a picture without it. She blinked, her reaction delayed. 

Gojo flipped the camera over and on the tiny display screen was the washed out image he took of them, the flash not doing them any favors. He grinned big like he always did for these while Utahime looked back at the viewer with a wide-eyed stare that gave away that she was drunk. What started as a spur-of-the-moment decision on Utahime’s part to let Gojo into her dorm room one Christmas Eve turned into a full-blown tradition. He insisted on taking a picture with her every year. 

He straightened up, examining the picture. “The Christmas spirit is simply radiating off of you, Utahime.”

A shiver went down her spine when he said her name. Gojo had been drawing more and more similar reactions from her recently to the point where she felt as though she had no choice but to hate him. Some might think it to be irrational but Utahime absolutely detested the feeling of her stomach tying itself up in knots and the unbearable heat in her cheeks. So maybe she didn’t hate him but she hated the feelings she felt towards him. No matter how many times she shoved him away, he kept crawling back and Utahime decided that meant he loved to torment her. 

But even though she would insist to herself that she hated it, his absence was almost worse. Utahime didn’t even want to come to this party but she did. She didn’t want to dress up but she did. She didn’t want to get drunk but she did. She did it all because of Satoru Gojo. That’s what she hated most of all. Her inexplicable need to be near him and the devastating loss she felt when he wasn’t. Utahime wasn’t about to spend another minute at this party if Gojo was gone. 

“Can you take me home too?” she asked. 

Gojo eyed her over the top of his glasses. “Can you handle warping?”

Her stomach curdled at the mere thought of being dragged through space and time in seconds. Reality folded in on itself to allow one to pass from one place to the other without ever needing to bear the distance. It would most certainly make her vomit. Teleporting made her feel sick on the best of days. 

She shook her head. No warping meant she needed to get on a train but at a certain point, the trains stopped running. There might not even be one for her to take back. It was two hours by train, and several more by car. Not to mention, her shoes were missing. 

Gojo nudged the water bottle closer to her and Utahime took the hint, grabbing it to find he had already loosened the cap for her. She tipped her head back, the icy water mixed with the copious amount of alcohol in her stomach. The sensation was unpleasant but not as terrible as the guaranteed headache she’d have in the morning. 

“I have a couch,” Gojo said and Utahime knew he was making an offer. He spent most of his time on campus but Utahime knew he also had an apartment nearby for when he needed to get away. Utahime had never been there even though she had many opportunities. She didn’t think she’d behave in a place like that. 

Since she was drunk, Utahime had no good judgment. She stood up from the table, unsteady on her feet, almost knocking the water bottle over. “Let’s go now,” she said, reaching for his arm. 

“Where are your shoes?” he asked. 

“Don’t know.” 

“You can’t go outside without shoes,” he said, making Utahime look down at her painted toes. December nights in Tokyo were chilly and she’d have to walk on the pavement. 

“I lost them,” she said. Utahime wracked her brain but she couldn’t for the life of her remember where she put them. One moment she had them and the next they were gone, alcohol wiping her memory clean.  

Gojo slipped his shoes off, leaving him standing there with only his socks. “Here.”

Utahime didn’t even think about the absurdity of wearing Gojo’s shoes, she went ahead and stuck her feet inside. They were predictably way too big for her, slapping against the floor with each step. “It feels like I’m wearing clown shoes.”

“Well, you know what they say about guys with big feet.”  

It took her a moment to register what he had just said. “Oh, shut up.”

Even though Gojo was only in his socks, he had Infinity to create a buffer between himself and the concrete. Walking in Gojo’s huge shoes while drunk proved to be a challenge, Utahime nearly falling into Gojo every few steps. But she somehow made it to his apartment and she kicked them off as soon as she was inside. They hit the floor with a thud. 

Utahime slumped onto his couch, barely taking in her surroundings. It didn’t seem like there was much of anything in it, only the basics, but her vision was so blurry and the walk made her dizzy. Gojo sat down beside her and she wished he didn’t.

Pressing her thighs together, Utahime had the urge to crawl into his lap. It was shameless. He did one nice thing for her and wore one well put together outfit and her body was ready to betray her. He didn’t think to grab her a blanket though and that was enough for her to go back to hating him. 

“I need a blanket,” Utahime demanded. 

Gojo chuckled. “Yes, princess.” 

Heat flared inside her and Utahime willed herself to stomp it out. She liked the nickname even though it made her sound a bit like a brat. Hearing it from his deep voice didn’t help either. It stirred something inside her that Utahime knew she wasn’t strong enough to fight back against it in her drunken state. 

Gojo returned with a large fluffy blanket and a pillow. He tossed the pillow to one end of the couch and Utahime took note of his sleeve rolled up to his elbow, an expensive watch decorated his wrist. She couldn’t take it anymore. Utahime shot up with the intent to throw her arms around Gojo’s neck but the moment she did, she could feel Infinity rebuke her. It was as good as a rejection and it made her nauseous. 

“Not when you’re drunk, Utahime,” he said softly. She sat back down on the couch and he draped the blanket around her. “Holler if you need anything else.”

Gojo retreated to his room and Utahime listened to him shuffle around between the bedroom and the bathroom. When he finally turned the light off, Utahime laid down on her side, pulling the blanket up to her chin. She should’ve asked for a bowl or something to vomit in because the nausea persisted. 

Utahime stared off into the darkness for as long as she could. Loneliness once again seeped deep within her making her chest ache. The alcohol didn’t help, it always made her feel more deeply than normal which she didn’t need then. 

She really did hate Satoru Gojo.

_____

December 24th, 2014

Utahime hadn’t heard from Gojo in weeks and now it was late enough that she didn’t want to hear from him at all. 

She lounged on her couch, a corny movie playing on the TV, her cat curled up beside her. Utahime had a beer cracked open on the coffee table and a bunch of chocolate wrappers. It was a holiday, they didn’t count. A rare moment where she wasn’t running around chasing curses, her students, or her sanity. 

If Utahime wanted to see Gojo, she could. It wouldn’t be unusual for Utahime to be in Tokyo for Christmas Eve. She had grown accustomed to seeing him that day to take his stupid picture but this was the first year she didn’t have plans and her last text remained unanswered. It was a little over the top for her to be pissed about that, Gojo was the busiest sorcerer there was. But Utahime had never been rational about what set her off. 

Eight years of tradition down the drain. Fuck Satoru Gojo. 

Her cat stretched her legs before flipping over. Utahime let her hand run through her fur. She had everything she needed right here. The staff holiday parties had gotten old a while ago and Utahime was much more content with getting drunk in the comfort of her own home where she could go to bed early if she wanted. She always felt like she was the one going to Tokyo instead of the other way around. Another thing she felt like she didn’t have any right to be angry about because she was the odd one out. Everyone was already in Tokyo, so it didn't make sense to make several people travel versus one person. 

It still irritated her. 

A knock at the door startled her cat and Utahime instantly grabbed her phone to see if someone messaged her that they were coming over. Right as she was lamenting no one came to visit but now that there was someone, she wanted them to go away. Utahime was nothing if not several contradictions. Her phone was void of any messages. 

She flung the blanket off herself and got up to answer the door. Didn’t this person have anything better to do than to harass her on Christmas Eve? 

The door swung open to reveal Gojo himself in his Jujutsu Tech uniform, white bandages wrapped around his head, covering his eyes. 

“Oh, it’s you,” she said, as if moments before she wasn’t just cursing him for seemingly forgetting about her. 

“A warm welcome as always, Utahime,” he said and the sound of her name made her stomach swoop. Nothing about her expression gave her away as she stepped aside to let him in. 

“Just take your stupid picture,” she grumbled. 

“What are you so worked up over?” he asked, shrugging his Jujutsu Tech jacket off, and hanging it up in the front closet. The black short-sleeved shirt he had on underneath stretched over his muscles. Gojo was planning on staying awhile, it seemed. 

The cat pranced up to him to investigate, rubbing her cheeks against his legs. Gojo always said he preferred dogs to cats and that he’d never get a cat of his own but then he’d snuggle up with Utahime’s cat and call her his little baby girl. So she didn’t quite believe him when he said he didn’t like cats but maybe it was only her cat he liked. 

“I’m not worked up,” she said, eyeing the cat begging for Gojo’s attention. Traitor. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” he replied, settling himself on her couch, her cat jumping into his lap like this was his apartment and not hers. 

Utahime sat on the couch next to him without saying anything. It was too vulnerable for her to voice that she was upset because she hadn’t heard from him and even more upset at the prospect that he would forget about her entirely. But now that he was there, it all seemed pointless to her to bring up. 

“Take your picture,” she said, bringing the beer to her lips. 

“Are you drunk?” he asked, eyeing the drink.

Utahime shook her head. “This is the only one I’ve had.”

Gojo set the cat down on the floor and shifted so he was in Utahime’s space. He brushed her hair off her shoulder and Utahime’s body responded immediately. It would be easy to give in to him then and pretend like nothing bothered her. 

His mouth was close to her ear when he spoke softly. “I missed you.”

“Sure,” she scoffed. Gojo pressed his lips to her skin and she could feel him smiling against her. 

He wasn’t her boyfriend, Utahime made sure to emphasize that. Especially after they hooked up several times, she told him this didn’t mean anything. Sorcerers rarely got into relationships anyway, they were only doing what everyone else did. But she also told him after each time it happened that would be the last time and it never was. And she knew it wouldn’t be the last time after tonight either. Sometimes she regretted trying to keep the relationship as hollow as she could because then she’d feel more justified in being annoyed from not hearing him or even more so, she wouldn’t be alone shortly thereafter. 

Utahime let him kiss up the side of her neck, one of his hands cradling her head. Until his light touches had thoroughly turned her on and she pushed him onto his back so she could straddle him. She liked to be on top of him, controlling the entire experience. And Gojo was happy to let her. Utahime leaned forward to catch his lips with hers, kissing him hungrily, tasting the lingering taste of peppermint from what was likely a candy cane he sucked on before coming over. 

Making quick work of their pants, Utahime sunk down on top of him with a wince. She didn’t bother taking off anything else, this was meant to be quick. The longer she kept him around, the harder it was to let him leave.  

Gojo had pulled his bandages loose so one of his eyes was uncovered. His hands rested on her thighs as Utahime used him. It was the only time he was quiet around her, save for a few grunts and moans. He looked so focused even though Utahime was doing most of the work. His eye flickered between her face and the place where they were connected. Looking like he had something to say but thought better of it for the first time in case it would ruin whatever they had going on. 

They both finished, always her first and Gojo to follow soon after. She came with a gasp, digging her fingers into his chest. Gojo pulled out of her and finished on her thigh. In a rare display of affection on her part, Utahime draped herself across his chest to listen to his breathing. Gojo’s arm crossed over her back and while her fingers brushed against the soft fabric of his shirt, the vulnerability Utahime had been fighting against all evening bubbled up inside her. 

“I thought you forgot,” she said, her voice nearly muffled by his chest and he laughed, the vibrations shaking her. 

“You think so poorly of me,” he said and Utahime could feel his arm stretch out to the side. 

She lifted her head slightly to see what he was doing, just in time to see that he took a picture of them with his phone in his hand. Utahime scrambled off of him immediately, sitting back on her heels. She grabbed a napkin left on the coffee table to hurriedly wipe her thigh.  

“Gojo, that’s gross,” she scolded. 

“Relax, you can’t see anything,” he said, showing her the photo. 

It was taken from the waist up and since Utahime was in such a hurry, it looked like they were still fully clothed. Her cheeks flushed and pressed against his chest while he held her tightly to him. If it was a picture of strangers, Utahime would think they were a couple. 

He had gotten his picture and she had gotten what she needed and Utahime supposed there was no real reason to keep Gojo there. But she didn’t want to let him go. 

“You want to stay the night?” she asked, something Utahime had never offered him. The mixture of post-sex endorphins and the ever-present holiday loneliness and her unfortunate desire to be wanted by him all mixed together until it became a storm she couldn’t weather. 

She waited for him to make fun of her. To laugh about how clingy she had gotten. But he did neither. Instead, he did something that confused Utahime even more. He adjusted his pants back on and moved to the side to give her room to lay down next to him. She nestled herself in the space and Gojo held her against him while the movie she left on flickered blue light in the dark room. It was more intimate than having him inside her. 

_____

December 25th, 2017

The streets of Kyoto were bathed in the blood of a thousand curses. 

Utahime helped pull the injured aside once the chaos died down. They didn’t have someone like Shoko in Kyoto who could use RCT on others but Shoko was more needed in Tokyo and they would have to make do with what they had. Utahime herself was all in one piece. No real injuries besides bruises and soreness. 

Suguru Geto had descended a nightmare upon the streets, tying up every available sorcerer. Utahime had even had to send some of her older students out to help which she hated putting young sorcerers in the middle of such an unpredictable situation but sorcery demanded sacrifices. And last she heard, they were all fine. 

The sun peeked up over the horizon. Utahime had been up the entire night and now that the adrenaline had worn off, she could feel how tired she truly was. It was an odd feeling being told she was free to go and her help wasn’t needed anymore when so much was still in disarray. Utahime didn’t think she could make it to her apartment, she was so exhausted. Instead, she slumped against a brick wall and sat on the cold hard ground. 

It went without saying that Christmas Eve came and went without Utahime seeing Gojo. The first Christmas Eve since they started meeting up she didn’t see him. And he missed it for real this time because the morning sun was now shining on the next day. Warm light broke through the darkness they all experienced that night. She silently cursed Suguru Geto for making her life harder. For making everyone’s life a nightmare. 

With the curses exorcized and the commotion settling down, it seemed as though his reign of terror was over. Ten years of build-up to be over in a single night. Suguru Geto was left behind in the past as nothing more than a reminder of a broken system. A system that Utahime would have to struggle through again when they would all resume classes and sorcery work like nothing happened.

Utahime must have dozed off at some point because when she blinked her eyes open again, the sun was high in the sky and a tall shadow was cast over her. She looked up, Satoru Gojo staring down at her with hands in his pockets and his eyes uncovered. His messy hair fell loose in his face. 

He crouched down so he was at her level. “You hurt?”

Utahime shook her head. Finding her napping in the dirt would’ve been the perfect opportunity for Gojo to tease her relentlessly but perhaps under different circumstances. She knew Geto was dead and she knew who probably killed him. 

Gojo sat down on the ground next to her and Utahime was reminded of the time she found him alone on the bleachers back at school shortly after Geto defected. Sitting side by side in silence, not sure of what to say before deciding that saying nothing about it was for the best. What’s done is done and Utahime had never felt confident in her ability to console Gojo. He never told her what he was thinking and to someone who didn’t really know him they could easily assume he wasn’t bothered at all but Utahime knew better. 

“Sorry about your picture,” she said, breaking the silence between them. Choosing a topic that had nothing to do with Geto. 

“Picture?” he asked, turning his head towards her. 

“It’s not Christmas Eve anymore.”

Gojo shifted, pulling his phone out. “Ah, well. No one has to know it was taken late. There’s no difference between today and yesterday.”

Utahime wanted to argue there was a difference. They were not the same people they were yesterday. Geto bulldozed through and held a mirror up to everyone’s face and Utahime wouldn’t be able to ignore what she saw. She didn’t look the same physically either, covered in dirt and residuals from curses.

Gojo held the phone up and took a quick picture, satisfying the tradition. She noticed that he bothered to smile for it while Utahime merely looked solemnly ahead. How did he do that? He killed his best friend and he managed to smile but Utahime hardly even knew Geto and she felt like despair was weighing down on her. His ability to compartmentalize was honed after doing years of sorcery work to a degree that Utahime couldn’t bring herself to get used to.

“Do you show them to anyone?” she asked. 

“Show what?”

“The pictures. Shoko, Ijichi,” she listed, pausing for a moment where Geto’s name was on the tip of her tongue but she swallowed it. “Have they seen them?”

“Nah, they’re only for me.”

“You sit around and look at them by yourself?”

Gojo turned the phone towards her to show her the newest picture again. “Of course, I look really good in these.”

He did but Utahime wasn’t about to stroke his ego. She, on the other hand, always looked awful in them. Startled, drunk, post-sex, curse residuals splattered on her face, Gojo always managed to take them when she looked her worst. She never had much desire to look at them later so her memory of them was likely exaggerating how bad she looked. 

“Next year, can you let me know before we take it so I can look presentable in at least one of them?”

“You look fine,” he said, examining the picture. Utahime gave him a pointed look. “Alright, I’ll tell you. And you can get all dressed up for me.” 

Utahime wanted to argue that she didn’t need that much of a heads up, only enough to actually straighten herself up and not look so caught off guard all the time. But the fight had been knocked out of her and she was content to lay her head back against the wall, Gojo’s presence keeping her company. 

She hated to think of Geto in such a distant way, but with one less curse user out there, Utahime was hoping for a quiet upcoming year. 

_____

December 24th, 2018

Bells on her wrist, hands in her lap, Utahime sat staring down at her bare feet trying not to throw up. 

She rehearsed her song and dance as much as she could. There was nothing else left to prepare. She’d dance, boost Gojo, and then get in the car with Gakuganji and travel to where the last finger was kept. There were no doubts on her part that she wouldn’t be able to successfully play her part.

Utahime had survived terrible years but this one may be the worst one yet. The back-to-back losses of her students Kokichi Muta and Mai Zenin coupled with Gojo’s sealing made Utahime little more than a hermit in the last couple of months. Even when she got Gojo back, she couldn’t bring herself to truly celebrate because here she was, moments before the fight of his life.  

She isolated herself one last time, the sounds of chatter could be heard through the walls. Utahime envied their youthful enthusiasm and unwavering faith. Her own had been beaten out of her years ago. It could always go wrong. It always did go wrong. This was the one time they couldn’t afford it going wrong again. 

“Sulking alone in the dark?”

Gojo poked his head in through the doorway. When he was around the students, he was more upbeat, almost cheerful which contrasted heavily with the circumstances. But when he was around the other adults, he was more serious. The most serious Utahime had ever seen him. She wanted him to tug on her hair or tease her, not talk about serious topics like a Last Will with such finality. 

“I’m not sulking.”

“Looks like that to me or maybe brooding is more accurate.”

He sat down in the chair across from her, already in his clan robes. The ritual required them to be as traditional as possible. Utahime had been dressed and ready hours ago, the seconds ticking closer to the moment no matter how hard she tried to cling to them. She was so nauseous from nerves that even if she wanted to get up and join the others, she risked getting sick. 

It took Utahime a moment to notice what Gojo was holding in his hands, she was so focused on looking at his face and his clothes, trying to commit to memory as much as she could. He held up a Polaroid camera to his face and the shutter snapped. It spat out a square photo, which Gojo removed and shook it. 

“Where did you get that?” she asked. 

“It was collecting dust at your apartment,” he said. The film developed into another picture of Utahime looking caught off guard.

“You said you were going to warn me this year.”

Gojo got out of his seat so he could move closer to her, pressing his face next to hers. He flipped the camera to take their picture. Utahime managed a small smile this time, not wanting her last picture with him to be so sad. Their thirteenth Christmas Eve together and Utahime thought the number was so fitting considering the circumstances.  

“I didn’t know they still made the film for these.” Her voice was strained. 

Gojo shook the picture. “They made a comeback. Our high school years can be considered vintage now.”

He handed her the picture, and most of the image finished developing. Gojo grinned wide like always and it was the nicest picture of Utahime out of all the Christmas Eve pictures. One she could be happy with. Utahime moved to hand the picture back to him but he shook his head.  

“Hang on to that for me,” he said and then rummaged around in his pocket, pulling out another photo. “And this one too.”

Utahime took the picture from him and staring back at her were their teenage faces. Her unscarred cheeks were still plump from residual baby fat and his hair was an absolute mess because he didn’t know how to take care of it yet. Frozen in time. If Utahime willed it, she felt as though she could reach through the tiny square and pull herself back there. Somewhere in 2006, two kids were spending Christmas Eve together because they didn’t have anywhere else to go. 

She held the two photos side by side. Thirteen years between the two. Utahime tried not to doom over it but she couldn’t quite believe that was all she got. 

“You’re going to come back right?” she asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper. Afraid by speaking the worst into existence it will somehow become true.

Gojo grinned at her in the seemingly carefree way he always did that Utahime had come to know was masking a measure of doubt. “Of course. I need to make it next Christmas Eve, don’t I?”

Utahime tucked the pictures into the pocket of her hakama pants with a sniff. She wasn’t going to cry in front of him. “You better. I’m not going to wait on you.”

And then time was up. 

“Ready?” he asked, holding his hand out to her. 

“Yeah,” she lied because there wouldn’t ever be a time when she would be ready for something like this but it came all the same, her readiness irrelevant. 

Her hand slipped into his and he pulled her closer, tipping her head up to him so he could kiss her. Utahime wasn’t ready for that either. Nothing like the end of the world to make Utahime rue over a decade of wasting time. She kissed him back just as hard, tears threatening to spill over but Utahime was well practiced in holding everything in. 

They stepped out into the cold, the wind stung in her face. Her feet soon became stiff from frost. But forward, she persisted, her hand sneaking into her pocket to graze the edge of the photo. It wouldn’t be Christmas Eve without Satoru Gojo.