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“You’re still here?”
Satoru stops in his tracks looking behind his back at the person behind the chuckled statement. “And what's it to you?”
Toji shrugs. “Figured you would’ve left by now. He’s not good with words and he’s obviously made you agitated, right?”
“And how would you know that?” Satoru bristles.
“Just look at you. You’re so on edge—it’s pretty funny how a change of scenery masks all your bratty tendencies and gets you so uptight.”
Irritated Satoru struts off down a nearby hallway. He wasn’t going to be talked down like this, and definitely wasn’t going to get anything helpful out of the smug zombie that was Toji. If he was to do anything important, it'd have to start with finding the library. All proper estates had one, and Sukuna might be a curse but Satoru had reason to believe he had appreciation for the arts and history. Who else drops peculiar statements like he does, weaving poetry in simple replies?
Eventually he did come across a study of sorts with an assortment of books and scrolls tucked into a westernly styled room. There was a wooden rectangular piece for the table in the center with two benches on either side. On said table, Satoru found a scroll with some Mandarin calligraphy, a small box of lampblack and a stylus for writing. The scroll contained nothing much of interest other than a poem—Satoru had been trained in mandarin alongside his japanese education—so he moved on to the shelves.
After scouring through the many scrolls on Sukunas shelf, Satoru began to feel slightly discouraged. He hd expected him to at least wonder where he was but instead, after he had strided off from Toji, but Satoru had not seen anyone else. The estate was not very large but it was still odd to be left alone. On the other hand Satoru was grateful no one was interfering even if there was nothing of interest. Between anthologies of poetry and guides on fantastical flora he was stumped.
Eventually Satoru resigned himself to filtering through an epic he had found coming from an unknown author. He sat at the table's bench whichfetishization faced away from the door, resting his head on his arm. The story was mildly interesting, mixing stories about everyday people's encounters with sorcery. But as he began to get really bored the door slid open behind him, and a familiar smell followed. It's spicy—bordering on cloves and just barely wafts around Satoru’s body. Turning around he found that it was Toji carrying a pot of tea and a singular cup.
He doesn't say anything as he rounds the table. Toji sets the cup down, leans over to pour it almost to the top, only then taking a seat. Accustomed to servants bringing him things, at first the white haired wonders if the cup is for himself. Satoru is ready to reach over for it and speak his thanks when the black haired picks it up and finishes it in a few gulps. Hand still reached out twitching and mouth half open Satoru finds heat rising into his face. Swiftly he closes it and brings his hand back to grip the scroll once again. Unfortunately not swift enough to escape Toji's eyesight as the black haired sports sly smirk.
“Oh Master Gojo, did you think that that was for you?”
Satoru stays silent, shifting his eyes back down. But Toji continues.
“Oh I simply wasn't aware that you wanted some.”
“I never said that I did.”
He smiles again, drawing Satoru’s to the scar on his cheek. “But you thought it was for yourself, huh? That's just like you. Spoiled little brat thinking the world is his. But if you really wanna have some, I guess I can share. You sorcerers aren't too good at that so I should teach you, right?”
Satoru bristles. But judging by the length of the reply he received after giving him a little it was likely only safe to keep his thoughts to himself. Especially since he knew that Toji was right. He wasn't going to berate the man even if he knew he was better and stronger. No need to start a fight that's already been finished.
After that round of silence Toji seemed to quiet down and pour himself another cup of tea so Satoru kept his head down. He was hoping that things would stay without any fanfare, but Toji really was good at agitating him. A headache was budding in his forehead, and while he definitely did try it was hard to ignore the visual of the golden liquid spilling over Toji's lips and the one drop that traveled down his jugular. There was a proper routine to drinking something like this and instead Toji had chosen to make a mess of himself and In the back of his mind, Satoru wondered if Toji really had intended to share, bearing in mind that there was only one cup. He could very easily laugh at his face and make another comment about the differing statuses.
After the fourth cup—and the third scathing look he was unable to hold back—Satoru held out his hand and harshly asked for it. “Give it here.”
“Ah ah ah,” Toji grinned, sloshing the cups liquid in his hand like one might do with a finger as they berated a child.
“You said you'd share.”
“Yeah I did. Not that I'll go and give it to you. You can come over here and get it, yeah?”
Satoru felt heat rising to his face. Of course this wasn't that easy. “Just pass it over th-”
“Come over here. And get. It.”
Feeling more like a petulant child than the strongest, Satoru resigned himself to getting up and walking around the long table to get the cup. The distance felt so much longer than usual, especially with Tojis eyes on him. When he did round the table and reach for the cup Toji was a moment faster, catching his arm with one hand and moving the cup out of his way with his other.
“On that note I'm really feeling like keeping the rest for myself.” He trills, as Satoru momentarily struggles in his hold. He's fast but Satoru is faster, leaning over the table to share the cup's grip. In the process, landing himself halfway into Toji's lap. He laughs, letting go of it and leaning back as Satoru brings it to his lips.
“Awfully close aren't you? What manners do they teach you down there?”
He could respond, and he really does want to, but he's already found himself the victor and takes a sip of it instead. It's strong and sweet, the latter being a flavor he hadn't expected to find in the mainland. It was a delicacy with how long it took to grow, not to mention transporting it. He let out a sound of pleasure, closing his eyes to savor the taste of cloves, floral fruit, and light sweetness. It almost seemed worse than the humiliation.
When he finished, after actually savoring it, Satoru realized that both his knees were still bent over Toji's lap and his hands were inches away from his waist. The smirk was still there—something that never seemed to leave his face. It was quite compromising. Including the darkness of his viridescent eyes, Satoru was almost compelled to let loose, looser than he had all day. The sun was setting and the heat he felt was not from it.
In that instant the itching feeling returned to his neck, reminding himself not to let anyone get the better of him. It'd be just like Sukuna to put him up to this, wouldn't it. lWhat motive did Toji really have for teasing him? To distract him from something? It'd be better to stay vigilant and end this in a civilized way.
“Thank you for sharing with me, Toji." He stated, keeping the same intensity as he looked down. “It really is as delicious as you said.”
At that Toji's smirk turns into a full on grin. He lets his hands fall back and doesn't say anything as Satoru sets the cup down and rises quietly from his lap. But he knows he's won. There really isn't any other choice he has other than to fight for the upper hand, even in games of propriety and going over the edge. This was the entrance of the lion's nest, and Toji was just a little cub to him.
Satoru strutted out of the room, robes following behind himself as he continued in the same direction from before in the corridor. He found Sukuna in the parlor gazing at a few bowls of loose leaf tea. And really, this had to be the last straw, if he hadn’t thrown it out already.
Crossing his arms, Satoru pointedly looks to the left of Sukuna’s head, neck craning. “I’ve changed my mind. I’d like to go home now, so do your little thing with the barrier.”
“You mean you’ve noticed?” Sukuna chuckled. “Alright, I can lift the barrier for you.”
“It would be an insult to be upbringing if I hadn’t.”
He simply hummed, eyes trailing Satorus back as he stalked out.
“Did you have to scare our pretty guest like that?”
Toji rolls his eyes playfully. “I’m not sure what you're talking about. I was just a bit interested in him. Not like I had much fun when I was beating him up.”
Faster than he can blink, one of Sukuna’s upper arms grips his throat. “Just don’t do it again.”