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For as long as Iori Utahime has known Gojo Satoru—which, begrudgingly, is most of her life—she has always viewed him as the pesky, little white-haired kid who never listens to a word she says.
He never respects her despite being younger by almost three years.
“You can’t just call me by my name, Gojo!”
“Actually, I can. Matter of fact, I’ve been doing it for years. And what kind of senpai are you if you’re always screaming at your juniors, Utahime?”
“That’s Iori-senpai to you!”
“Bah, who cares about honorifics? I’ve known you since I was young, I should get a pass,” he would just answer in that careless manner that grates on her nerves. “Besides, if you badly want to be everyone’s senpai, you should look the part. You’re so short, you look like you’re the kouhai between us two.”
“I’m of average height! You’re the freak of nature here.”
He does whatever he wants, never minding that the veins in her head could pop at any moment from all the frustration he’s giving her.
“Gojo, I told you to stop messing up my hair!”
“I can't help it, your pigtails are so neat they're practically calling for me to ruin them. Who are you trying to look all cute for, anyway?”
“I’m not trying to look cute! I’ve always worn my hair this way, idiot. Give me back my tie!”
He, of course, never gives it back, only walking past her with the tie between his fingers and a teasing lift at the corner of his lips, leaving her with the other half of her pigtails loose and an impending aneurysm. She couldn’t count just how many of her hair ties and ribbons she had lost to his hand or the times she just gave up on trying to retrieve them. Why is he so keen on taking them anyway? It’s not like he wears them. The one time he did, he wrapped it around his eyes like the idiot he is.
But the point here is he. never. listens.
Even now, as they walk with each other’s company in the golden glow of the after-school hours. She’s going on another tirade of what’s proper and not, enumerating all the antics he made her deal with at school today, but she knows that her words just went into one ear and out the other.
No, she’s sure they never even reached his hearing as he had his freaking earbuds on. Those obnoxiously expensive ones that he started using after finally getting tired of listening to her nagging all the way home for almost every day of them walking together.
“Not even my mother nags me this much, Utahime. Can’t we just walk home in peace?”
For all the noise and havoc he’s caused her at school, he sure does have a lot of audacity to demand peace from her. Nagging is after all the only way she could get back at him as she knows it to be one of the few things that annoy him. And how could she not admonish him after all the shit that he pulls, even stringing Suguru and Shoko along?
Still, despite being the absolute headache incarnate that he is, she never misses a day of walking home with him. Not that he lets her go home on her own (the last time she did, he became extra annoying to her, if that’s even possible, and she didn’t want a repeat of that).
And even when she almost throttled him (almost being the keyword here because she tried but couldn’t reach his neck) the first time she found out she’s been talking to air for minutes because he was blasting music in his ears instead of hearing what she had to say, Utahime had learned to cope with this oddity in his character.
Gojo never listens, all right. But Utahime sought solace in this routine of theirs by resigning to just talking to him, albeit one-sidedly. From complaints about his behavior, they slowly evolved into normal, almost boring things like how her day went or what she fed to the cat that lives at the school. It’s also fortunate that the route to their houses isn’t frequented by people so no one would think she’s crazy or look in pity because the man in front of her is obviously not listening.
Was it weird that she’s a more willing participant when he’s not an active part of the conversation? Maybe. But she liked it this way, a moment of catharsis without having the other person actually hear anything. The unwitnessed release is just comforting. She never liked to tell much after all; not to Shoko, and hell, definitely not to Gojo.
She never knew her nagging of all things would actually grant her a ticket to Gojo’s silence, even if it only lasts for a small fraction of the day. She would still take it, though.
And so, in these rare snippets of time where their roles are reversed, him not being a menace and her with words slipping like waterfalls from her mouth, Iori Utahime has found a diary in an unknowing Gojo Satoru.
***
She hasn’t even fully opened her mouth when they stepped past the school gates but he already had his buds on, as if it has been ingrained into his psyche that walking home is equal to a blabbering senpai and therefore is equal to a need for ear protection.
Really, if he hates listening to her talk that much, she’d be more than happy to go home by herself.
But Utahime didn’t mind; haven’t for a long time now. Earbuds in or not, it's not like he would listen. She, however, had some things to expel out of her system.
“You know I used to think Shoko is the sanest of you three.” A slight pout was beginning to form on her lips as she trailed behind Gojo. She doesn’t walk in step with him because there really is no point when they’re not in a two-way discourse to begin with. “That’s why she’s my favorite.”
But he would occasionally look back to ensure that she was still following and hadn’t gotten lost in her rants. Some days, she would be so engrossed in her rage that she unwittingly stops in her stride, muttering obscenities, before Gojo notices and walks back to pull her along—earbuds still on.
“But she’s just as hardheaded! If not more. I caught her and Suguru smoking on the rooftop. Again! When she just promised me yesterday that she would stop!” She felt like a mother hen, but she couldn't just let her precious kouhais waste away their youth and health on vices.
Speaking of kouhais…
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the back of Gojo's head, snow-white hair bobbing gently in rhythm with his walk as the light breeze picked up some strands every now and then. She tried not to focus on his tall stature and that broad back that is so prominent even in his school uniform.
"Hey you, you better not be tempted to follow them. You're all still too young," she warned, uselessly.
Her junior kept on walking, his ears probably too preoccupied with the loud sounds, his mind too entrapped in the world of music, to even catch a hint of what she said.
And she doesn’t mind at all.
***
Today, she assumed free reign of all the expletives in the world.
“That fucking Zenin brat is so lucky I can control myself or else I would have shoved my shoe so far up his ass!”
Even she mentally winced at the not-so proper things that spewed out of her mouth, but she’s thankful that her junior walking a few steps ahead would be spared from all these unbecoming remarks.
He would have teased her to death if he could just hear her right now, hypocritically going against all her own standards of decorum. And then he would probably beat up Zenin Naoya.
So really, there are a multitude of reasons why she’s thankful for the existence of the device currently occupying Gojo’s attention.
“Damn Zenins,” she piped down a little after a while of expressing her desire to get back at the asshole who cornered and harassed her a few hours ago. Not that she could do much against the heir of a powerful, traditional clan. But one can dream.
“Why do they raise all their young to be sexist, pompous, perverted assholes? I swear they evolve backwards.”
She felt angry that she couldn’t stand up for herself despite wanting so badly to and she can’t help the tears of frustration that pricked her eyes which made her all the more frustrated because why does she have to cry when she’s mad?! Why couldn’t she just punch that Zenin brat in the face to teach him a lesson?
“I swear if only I wouldn’t get in trouble, I would have kneed him where it hurts the most…”
Of course, before her instinctive friend could turn his head back to check on her, she wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. It took her several attempts as some beads spilled helplessly down her cheeks and all the rubbing left her with red eyes and a flushed face.
For the rest of the walk, all Utahime could hear was the friction of their shoes on the pavement along with the sniffles that inevitably escaped her, and she felt relief at the knowledge that Gojo heard nothing but melodies.
***
“I didn’t think you’d even walk home with me today,” she said, almost listlessly.
Utahime is so easily annoyed by the prodding attention that Gojo gives her all right, and every day she wishes that he would stop being all over her, teasing and making her cry or furious. She complains at his antics that never fail to embarrass her and how he persistently makes himself the center of her attention, always pushing himself to be a part of her life. She wishes he would stop and act like a normal person around her.
So why then, did she feel empty when he—for the first time—listened to her and did just exactly that?
Why did she feel like a pin was pushed into her chest, pricking her beating heart inside, when instead of sitting beside her during lunch, he was stuck to Tsukumo Yuki’s side, speaking in hushed tones like they knew something the world around them could never be privy to?
This is what she has always waited for, for Gojo to shift his attention elsewhere. But try as she might to bask under the peace brought by the lack of his presence, she couldn’t. Not when her mind was sent into a haywire of confusing emotions after he acknowledged her with only a small smile and a nod before turning back to face Yuki again.
“Are you alright, senpai?” She remembered Shoko asking worriedly beside her, Suguru, Kento, and Mei Mei having looked her way at the girl’s question.
“Sorry, I spaced out,” she answered with a laugh that didn’t look too convincing to her juniors, who wisely kept their mouths shut and continued to eat, occasionally sharing curious glances as if they’re communicating telepathically which she chose to ignore.
She should be happy, she thought then as she munched on her food. It’s about time he stopped his fixation and started treating her like his senior. Civil and normal.
But since when did he become so closely acquainted with Yuki? She’s never even seen him smile like that.
He looked happy talking to her.
Utahime was brought back to the present when she felt Gojo’s warm hand wrap around her wrist, gently tugging her to move forward with his back to her. It was only then that she realized she stopped walking while thinking about the previous events that happened that day.
When he felt that she got the message and continued walking, he let go of her and interlocked his fingers behind his head while saying in a loud voice, “DON’T LAG BEHIND IF YOU DON’T WANT TO GET LOST, HIME.”
She had half a mind to take off those earbuds and throw them far away, the urge was even stronger now that she felt unexplainably mad. How loud is he playing his music that he had to almost shout when speaking? Now she also has to worry about possible ear damage, not just for him but for her too.
She could ask him to at least lower the volume but those offending objects in his ears are the only things standing between his hearing and the words that would soon escape her mouth.
So she does nothing and lets them be the walls in-between.
“I don’t want to overthink things. But you didn’t talk much to me today. I didn’t say or do anything wrong, right?”
Utahime felt ridiculous. Why even ask when she knows she won’t get an answer? And how could she even say or do something wrong? They barely talked or interacted the whole day. Correction, he barely talked to her today. It's like she wasn't even there.
She was dead-set on going home alone, assuming that Gojo would rather stay behind and talk some more with Yuki. They were practically inseparable.
So she didn’t know why the first thing she found upon reaching the school gates was one Gojo Satoru leaning against the wall, earbuds already attached to his ears, one shoe tapping along with whatever beat was playing in his head.
Did that mean they’re okay? She didn’t make a mistake she’s unaware about?
“You looked…happy. With her.”
Her mind flashed back to the memory of them sitting and smiling together. Together. Gojo and Yuki together. Oddly enough, it brought an unpleasant sensation to wash over her and she wished the mental picture away despite not knowing why.
“What I don’t understand is why I’m feeling this way,” she let out a chuckle that is hollow of any mirth. “I thought I’d be happy with you not bugging me like you always do. In fact, I’ve always wished for you to stop being so childish and clingy around me.”
“So why?” She asked, voice just above a whisper.
Why did it hurt?
The remaining distance to their houses was quiet, probably the only instance where their routine was filled more with silence than her voice.
All the while, she felt that her hair was unfamiliarly too pristine and perfect, her pigtails too unraveled, the strands too unmussed.
Too untouched by one Gojo Satoru.
Too unlooked-at, even.
***
“I think I know now.”
Shoko, who was busy with her phone, threw a confused look at the older girl who was resting her head on her arms, a faraway look in her eyes.
“Huh? Know what?”
“Why my chest has been aching lately,” she answered dully, and if Shoko were a little more attentive, she would have traced where she was looking at.
Gojo and Yuki were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder at the next table. They didn’t look too intimate, just one student teaching the other about some things she found difficult. But as Utahime watched him glide his pen along paper looking too focused like he had something to prove—or someone to impress—she felt like she was an outsider intruding on something that should be private.
“What?! Are you okay, senpai? Are you hurting somewhere?”
Shoko’s panic was lost on her own, heartbeat spiking dangerously when the sudden increase of volume in the younger girl’s voice drew the eyes of several people around, including ocean blue ones.
She buried her face in her arms as her cheeks reddened in embarrassment both at being caught staring by the kouhai that has been plaguing her mind and at having the attention of strangers focused on their table.
She missed the worry that brewed like a tempest in those seas of blue.
“Shoko, I’m fine. Please don’t shout.” Her mumbled reply was still intelligible enough to calm her friend down.
“Why are you hiding your face?”
“Is he still looking?”
“Who? Gojo?” When Shoko detected an almost imperceptible nod from her, she stole a glance to where her classmate was seated and found that the two had gone back to their business. “It’s okay, he’s not looking here anymore.”
Upon receiving confirmation that the coast was clear, Utahime slowly raised her head from where it was buried in her arms. Shoko copied her position and rested her weight on the tabletop too, and she was secretly both grateful and disappointed that it blocked her view of Gojo.
“Is that it? Your heart hurts when you see the two of them together?”
“My chest aches,” she corrected, although she knows by the way Shoko rolled her eyes that it was a pitiful attempt at deflection.
“And why do you think that is?”
Utahime was silent for a while, but Shoko waited patiently, eyes softening at the sad smile that looked out of place on her senpai’s normally vibrant face.
“I think I like him, Sho,” she admitted, and she almost found it funny that she’s baring her heart in the cafeteria of all places, while the person who holds it was only a few steps away.
It’s alright. He’s not listening anyway.
“And it doesn’t really matter to me if he doesn’t reciprocate, you know? He can like whoever he desires. I just wish he didn’t treat me differently, like I’m barely there.”
“Do you plan to tell him about this, Hime?” The two have now unknowingly slipped into the usage of their nicknames.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I doubt he’ll even listen when I do.”
“I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to. But I still think you both need to talk. Gojo doesn’t seem the type to ignore you anyway, you’re his favorite for fuck’s sake,” Shoko rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. “Just whenever you’re ready, okay?”
Turns out Utahime was ready by the end of the day, but not in the way that Shoko probably envisioned.
She’ll talk. She’ll confess. But she’ll do it the way she always had.
With him none the wiser.
So this time, she waited by the gates in a bundle of nerves. She half-expected him to not show up and that she’d be waiting in vain, but she gave it a few more minutes. Her heart does need a moment to calm down too as she thinks it’ll jump out of her ribcage.
It was in that position that Gojo found her—hand clutching her chest and face so red one would think she’d blow steam anytime now.
“Are you okay?” Utahime jumped slightly when his worried voice emerged from her side and the back of his hand came up to touch her forehead, checking her temperature, though she thinks it only served to heighten it more.
“Gojo!” Her traitor heart, which she just only managed to return to its resting rate, picked up its pace once again.
“Do you have a fever?”
“No, of course not,” she laughed awkwardly. “You’re here. Let’s just go home.” Grabbing one of his arms, she turned his body to face forward and pushed him to start walking.
He looked confused at first but eventually went along, and like the usual, wore his earbuds as they walked.
Utahime hesitated as she watched his back, but a small part of her argued that if she doesn’t somehow find an outlet, she’ll only be tormented by these thoughts when she’s all alone in her mind. The prospect of not getting a good sleep made her decide.
It’s alright. He’s not listening anyway.
“I know why,” she started, eyes not leaving him.
“Why it felt suffocating watching you with her. For a moment, I thought there was something wrong with my heart because it’s never clenched so painfully before. But then, it only does that when I see the two of you together.”
She looked down to her feet.
“For what it’s worth, I’m happy for you. I don’t know Yuki that much but she’s pretty, she seems kind and smart and funny and everything you could like in a girl. And as your senpai, I’d be the first to support you with her. But…”
God, I don’t know why I’m doing this.
“But you didn’t have to suddenly be so distant from me. Why do you act like we were never close…like…like you didn’t use to bicker with me and mess my hair and call me weak and yes, I fucking hated it when you do those things to me but you didn’t have to act like you weren’t my annoying little kouhai!” She rambled on, unable to stop now that she has started.
“And that’s what hurts the most because I don’t want to lose you. You’re my friend, who has made me happy just as much as you give me a headache, and I don’t want to lose you.”
She let out a deep sigh as she closed her eyes.
“You’re my friend. My kouhai…”
It’s alright. He’s not listening anyway.
“And that’s why I would never tell you that I like you.”
There. She said it. He didn’t hear but she said it, admitted it without a hint of doubt in her body.
She likes Gojo Satoru. Her annoying kouhai who never showed an ounce of respect to her seniority. Who always called her by her name and neglected the honorifics. Who never gave back all the ribbons that he stole from her. Who never listened to her. Who would never know she liked him more than a friend.
“What would you have done if you knew that I like you, Satoru?”
“I think I would want to kiss you, senpai.”
She did not see the impact coming, having closed her eyes just moments before. So when she blinked her eyes open at the unexpected voice that piped up at her question, she was too late to stop her momentum and she crashed into Gojo’s back.
The force sent her reeling backwards and if not for the hand that reached out to envelop hers in a tight grip, pulling her back to his chest this time instead of his back, Utahime was sure she would have been nursing a painful butt.
Wait…
“Eh?!” She looked up, eyes wide, to see a grinning Gojo looming over her. “G-Gojo?!”
His eyebrows scrunched in disappointment. “Gojo? Didn’t you just call me by my first name?”
She gasped, sure now that she isn’t hallucinating, and ripped herself off his hold. “What’s happening?”
Then she froze at the realization. It can’t be…
“Did…” She slowly looked at him, dread filling her when his grin seemed to widen in amusement. “Did you hear everything?”
“Did I hear you admit jealousy and then profess your undying love for me? Psh. No.”
Of course, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he showed his phone’s music player on pause belied all that and Utahime just wished for the ground to open and swallow her alive there and then.
“You did! How long were you listening?! You never listen, why did you listen?!” She was as red as a tomato now, gotten caught by the routine she so deeply trusted.
“Long enough to know you practically treat me like your diary when you think I’m not listening.”
The knowledge that he knew everything she spilled in secret mortified Utahime to the core and she found herself gaping at the younger man. If she were to spontaneously combust where she stood on, she would be more than happy to accept her fate. Especially if it meant escaping Gojo’s teasing remarks.
But of course, no deity heard her plea and she had no choice but to flee herself. She didn’t want to be at the receiving end of his mockery, she knew it was a mistake to fall for someone who did nothing but ridicule her and that it would hurt for her feelings to be thrown back to her face, but she still had a pride to hold up.
“Fine! Everything you heard is true. I didn’t mean for you to hear it and yes, I say things when I thought you were too absorbed by music to listen, but please..." She tried hard to hold back the tears that welled up her eyes before putting on a brave front. "Please don't make fun of me, Gojo."
“I like you but I have no plans of letting those feelings grow so please just forget about it,” she bowed her head as she passed by him, intent on going home and curling up in her bed because she just suddenly felt too tired.
“What?” She stopped when she heard his voice. “Make fun of you? Forget about it? Do you think that badly of me?” He sounded irritated and Utahime suddenly had a feeling that she had somehow offended him.
“Look…" Gojo circled around so he could get in front of her again.
“I just told you, didn’t I? When you asked what I would do if I knew you liked me. And I said I want to kiss you.” He was looking so intently at her and she was met with the full force of those beautiful, blue eyes that some days looked like the ocean, some days like the sky.
Some days you could drown in them, some days they make you feel like you're flying.
Now, it's a little bit of both.
“I want to kiss you, Hime, and I've been having a hard time holding myself back from doing so since the moment you said you like me.”
Blood rushed to her cheeks even as one stray tear ran a streak along one side of her face. “B-but you can’t.”
“You don’t want me to?”
“No, you can’t.”
“And why the hell not? I can if I wanted to. I just choose not to without your permission.” His eyes flitted down to her lips for a second before going back to her eyes. “So if it’s not because you don’t want me to, then tell me why I can’t.”
“You’re with someone else. You can’t do this to her and I refuse to be part of it,” she answered resolutely, face hardening and there was a glint of something in Gojo’s eyes at the sight of her defiance before it disappeared just as fast as his mind processed what she said.
Utahime definitely wasn’t prepared for Gojo to bark out a laugh, teeth biting his lips to stop whatever sound would come out but to no avail. He snorted, until closing his mouth couldn’t bar the peals of laughter anymore, and it evolved into a full blown cackle.
“Hey, this isn’t funny!”
“I’m sorry…” He could even barely say the words before his breath was again stolen by his laugh, hands holding his stomach. “I just—” More laughter. “—couldn’t believe you honestly thought I’m dating Yuki!”
“You’re gonna hurt her feelings, stupid!” She looked at him incredulously.
“No, no,” he waved his hands before slowly recovering. “You got it all wrong. It’s not like that. Whoo! Haven’t doubled over in laughter like that for a while.”
Aside from ear damage, he seems to have an issue with mood swings. One moment he’s angry, then the next he’s laughing like a mad man.
“But you two seemed really close. Then you started to distance yourself from me. So I thought you were trying to set boundaries now that you’re in a relationship with someone.” Looking back, she really couldn’t fault herself for thinking that way. It seemed logical.
“I’m tutoring her on one of her subjects in exchange for her help.” Utahime raised one brow at that.
“Help in what?”
“Well,” he pocketed his hands. “You’re not supposed to know about this because it’s our top secret mission but I see now that I have to tell you so you could understand.”
Top secret mission? What’s he talking about?
He looked sideways, almost shyly, as if he was embarrassed to meet her eyes. “She was helping me plan a date with you.”
She could only look confusedly, not able to follow.
“I can’t ask Shoko because she’s a tattletale and Mei Mei would ask for payment, not like it's a big deal but she would surely tell Shoko too. Suguru and Nanamin are out of the question. I tried not to talk to you too much because I can’t lie when I’m facing you, okay? I'm not supposed to tell you because what would be the purpose of it being a secret? But then you sounded very hurt and you're having these far-fetched assumptions and I can't have that.”
“Why would you take me on a date?”
“You’re seriously asking me that? I already told you I wanted to kiss you and you got nothing from that?”
“But—”
“I like you, Utahime, if that still isn’t clear,” he shut her up with his declaration.
“I like you so much that the idea of being with someone else is too funny for me because I could never imagine liking anyone other than you. I like you so much that I do all the stupidest things just so I can have your attention. I like you so much that I don’t want to call you senpai because to me it feels like a wall that keeps me from becoming close to you. I like you so much that it scared me when you said you don't plan on nurturing your feelings for me. I like you so much, Hime, and I’m sure I liked you far longer than you have liked me.”
Her eyes widened during the course of his speech but they slowly softened as she listened to him spill his feelings like an overflowing dam.
He likes her back.
He likes her and she doesn’t know why her mouth is stretching into a smile at that thought but he likes her and she likes him just as much.
“You idiot,” she said without the usual bite but instead softly, fondly. He swore the word 'idiot' has never sounded so sweet. “It’s not a competition.”
“I just needed to make sure you know.”
“You called me senpai, though,” she pointed out with a cheeky smile.
“That’s just in response to you calling me your annoying little kouhai,” he retorted and she sputtered, having just remembered her use of a possessive pronoun.
“It’s alright, senpai,” he chuckled before taking her hand in his. “I wanted to be yours anyway,” he winked as he pulled her along, their hands interwoven.
When she tried to pull away, he only tightened his hold and she found that she didn't really want to let go. His hand was warm.
They walked their path towards home together. Utahime’s other hand was covering her blushing face and while her heart didn’t feel heavy anymore, her stomach was now riddled with butterflies.
And for the first time, she didn’t hear gusts of breeze or shoes against concrete pavement or cicadas signaling the onset of dusk.
All she heard was Gojo Satoru. And this time, she was the one who listened.
He was bobbing his head along with the music, content with the sanctuary that it gave from the nagging senpai behind him.
But to his disappointment, the tunes died down and made way for the telltale chime that indicated the low battery status of his earbuds.
Gah, totally forgot to charge them the night before.
Gojo disconnected the device from his phone and was about to move his hand to take the buds off his ears when the older female’s grumbling voice made its way to his senses.
“—caught her and Suguru smoking on the rooftop. Again! When she just promised me yesterday that she would stop!”
Typical Utahime. Acting like everyone’s mom or older sister.
Instead of teasing her like he normally would, he stayed put and made no indication that he could clearly hear her.
"Hey you, you better not be tempted to follow them. You're all still too young."
Is she seriously taking advantage of his preoccupation so she could say the things she didn’t want anyone to hear?
His mouth twitched and he allowed himself a small smile at her shenanigans. Utahime, for all her display of maturity, had a childish side to her after all.
Cute.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if he listened more.
“Since then? That was like months ago!”
“In my defense, I didn’t really mean to the first time it happened. But then your stories got pretty interesting and I got invested in all your piping hot tea. And it’s not like half of your rants aren't about me.”
“Still, I had no idea you knew for that long.”
“I told you I’m always listening, Hime. Where do you think that Zenin asshole got that black-eye from?”
“That was you?!"