Chapter Text
Utahime was cradled in a blanket, flanked by her two kouhai and had Shoko leaning against the couch next to her legs.
She still felt cold. She stared at the TV. The images flashing over it had become meaningless. Her gaze flicked upwards, to the only thing that mattered.
“Can’t sleep?”
Knowing blue eyes were watching her. Utahime quickly looked away to where her hands were clasped in her lap. “Guess not.”
“Don’t tell me you’re an insomniac as well.”
“Not usually.”
Shoko shifted a little in her sleep, head sliding over to rest against Geto’s knee. Geto was also asleep, snoring quietly.
“What did it look like?” she asked again.
“A bird. A dark bird covered in ribbons.”
Utahime reached up, pulling the ribbons at the end of her pigtails loose. “Like these?”
“Maybe it stole them.” Gojo reached over, taking the red ribbons from her hands. “It took so much from you, Uta.”
“Yeah.” She shivered.
“Cold, senpai?”
She half-shrugged. Gojo took the opportunity to throw an arm over the back of the couch. Utahime glanced at it, waiting to see what Gojo would do.
“You know, I could warm you up.”
Utahime was still too numb to respond the way she probably would have before—yelling at Gojo for his lack of respect, his immaturity. Her eyes glanced back over the television.
“Come here.”
Utahime felt like a doll being manipulated. She let Gojo scoot her over on the couch, his arm slipping down around her waist and connecting with his other hand. Her head naturally fell against the crook of his shoulder. Her shivering hadn’t stopped.
“What if it isn’t real?” she whispered. “What if I just die again?”
“Then we’ll beat the curse.” Gojo was speaking against her head. She could feel the ghost of his voice against her hair. “And it won’t hurt you. Never again.”
“Okay,” Utahime said, trying to believe him. She listened to the thumping of his heart.
He cleared his throat. “The bullet through your brain, the cut . . . and the wound in your stomach. Those were three deaths I saw? That Six Eyes showed me?” His hand slid around her wrist.
She dared to wrap her arm around Gojo’s waist, securing herself and easing the strain in her shoulders. He inhaled at her touch.
“Yeah,” she said. “You were there.”
“Did I . . . Did I help?”
“I don’t know. I guess . . . Sort of? It was more painful. You seeing me weak and broken. I didn’t . . . I didn’t like it. But it made me want to come back and keep going.”
She felt him briefly press his lips to her head, a point of warmth that slid down her spine.
“I don’t know how you didn’t go crazy, Uta,” he whispered.
“I might’ve,” she whispered back. “How do we tell?”
“Well, maybe you are crazy. You’re hugging me right now. That’s pretty crazy, for you.”
Utahime ducked her face into his shirt, huffing out a quiet laugh. “That’s fair.”
“Hey, Uta.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s midnight.”
She whipped her head up, catching Gojo in the chin in her haste. Her surge of emotion was enough to send her still-weak cursed energy flaring up wildly. Geto and Shoko woke up, disoriented and sleepy.
“Wha—Utahime, you okay?”
“Senpai?”
“I’m free,” she sobbed. “I didn’t think it would happen.”
She was in the middle of the three of them, half-smothered but her chest feeling lighter, like she could float away.
In the flickering light of the television, she met Gojo’s uncovered eyes. He smiled at her, a slow and sweet smile that she’d never seen before. His hand found her own in the messy pile of limbs and intertwined with hers.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ve got us.”