Rikugan (Gojo X Reader Story)

Spy

Somewhere far away, a man sits amongst curses.

"We know where both of them are, we know she's activated the Six Eye, what are we waiting for?" The curses' voice thick with spite and full of resolve to get it's revenge from it's last and only encounter with the Satoru Gojo.

The man doesn't move; he's too busy playing chess with another curse who sits across from him. He appears calm and collected; unbothered to the point of peaceful.

"Let them play house and let them eat chocolate," the man replied, "we'll seal Satoru Gojo when the time is ready."

In his hand was a crystal like prism; as the curse peers into it, an image of two small figures appear inside of the reflection.

The curse spits in disgust. "You humans. Love makes me nauseated."

—

You woke up in a tangle of bedsheets; as your vision started to focus, so did your surroundings: the sweet scent of linen, the peaceful breeze that came through the window, the soft morning light from the overhead window... It felt like a completely different reality: something in the highest definition.

It caught you off guard; the last few days were in agony and this view felt like heaven. You were awe of this overnight change in vision that you didn't realize where Gojo was was before turning and doing a double take.

His skin almost looked like it glowed; dewy from his morning shower which tinted his shoulders and cheeks a rosy color. You could hear the sound of water drip and run down between the crevices of his abdomen, how it slowly dropped under and onto his groin...

"G-Gojo!? Put on some clothes!!"

Gojo had awoken before you; a surprise to him since he usually lagged in the mornings. He enjoyed the small pleasantries in life, like sleeping in; he also enjoyed the extravagant expenses, too. I mean, he was rich.

"Good morning sleepyhead... How ya feeling?"

The white sorcerer exposed his well-toned torso to you, leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom. Having just showered and wearing only a white towel, His lips curled into mischievous smirk; he may or may not have wanted to pull some kind of reaction out of you.

"More importantly... Pancakes or waffles?"

The mention of food immediately caused your empty stomach to bubble and you realized how famished you were. You averted your gaze before answering and blinked a few times from the question. "Uh- Both?"

From your answer brought the sound of excitement as his feet pitter pattered away. "Now that's what I like to hear~!"

Regaining some of your strength you were able to get up and out of the bed. The room was well lit by the late morning sun and the day already seemed to have started without you. Gojo's room was uncharacteristically serene; bare white walls and small wooden furniture to a minimalistic bedroom. The sheets must have been a high thread count; your slumber was divine. Or was it the plush pillows and comforter he had wrapped you in?

Wobbling like a newborn deer you took delicate steps to adjust. Even the floor felt different to you; you could see every detail, feeling every scratch or smooth surface of the floorboard. Walking through the hallway which lead to a larger room, your mouth dropped at the expanse of his domain.

This apartment was huge. Was it a penthouse? The wide, long paneled windows that made up the adjacent living room walls gave view of the forrest tree top. The school and apartment settled into Tokyo mountain range; you could see the campus from the distance and some of Tokyo. His space was at least three times bigger than yours and you realized the status he must have amongst his people.

Noise came from one side of the living room, you suspected it was the kitchen from the hum of Gojo and the sound of enthusiastic whisking. You heard a faint sizzle and mutterings of the chef as the sound of liquid being poured echoed through the hallway. You crept into the room to catch a glimpse of the workings of chef Gojo, and smiled.

The kitchen looked like a culinary bomb had gone off- haze of flour in the air, the smell of something baking and the pan and large waffle iron on the counter. Gojo turned around, answering your request for decency by wearing shorts and a white t-shirt. Once he saw you he brandished a mug, presumably filled with coffee ladened with sugar.

You sat yourself down at his dining room table, taking sips of sweet caffeine while your host finishes up whatever he's doing. Gojo soon comes to the table offering you a feast - childlike in his presentation of interchanging layers of pancake and waffles stacked on top of each other for you to enjoy.

"Breakfast is served!"

He sits across from you eager to eat, spraying a swirl of whip cream on top of his waffle-pancake sandwich before helping himself by piping whip cream into his mouth, swallowing the dollop with a wide grin.

You find yourself giggling childishly as he takes your plate to decorate it with a whip cream smiley face. Ever unnoticed, a dust of pink paints across your cheeks when you thank him.

Gojo absolutely adores this morning, the way he melts like the whip cream on your pancakes when you laugh at his jokes with him. He's happy that you're happy: that he's the one making you feel joy. You dig into your breakfast and it's just what you needed, diabetes be damned, because you've had an empty stomach for days and meals to make up for.

Breakfast turns out being so delicious you wonder if he'd let you come over for more mornings like these.

"How's your eye?"  He finishes his last bite before looking over to you.

"Better..." you carefully touch the skin around your eye. "It's not painful to touch anymore."

Gojo waves his hand and motions you to turn to him and lean across the table closer to him so his fingers can reach. He feel cool and soothing to the touch while he inspects your face. He lifts your upper eye lid slightly to check on your Six Eye; the cornea looking less red and pupil less dilated. He's relieved that you're feeling better; all of this is uncharted territory for the both of you, and his advice and care were mere guesses to him.

"I've healed you! Shoko better watch out, she'll be out of a job soon." He chuckled swaying his head in pleasure. "Just to be sure, you can have the day off. I'll train the students today."

You huffed. "I'm fine, Gojo. I shouldn't take time off before the exchange event. And don't we need to plan how to let the student's know Yuji's been alive this whole time?" The image of Megumi and Nobara's reaction to their friend being very well alive made you chuckle.

Slowly pushing yourself up from your chair and turning you were met with resistance: Gojo's large hand wrapped around your wrist. "Take off today. Please," his voice was admonished and caring, "And call me Satoru."

"I-uh... Okay, Satoru." You slid back down into your chair, "I guess I'll head back to my apartment-"

He winked. "You better, otherwise the students will see us together and gossip."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms across your chest. "You wish."

"I'm not opposed to any attention," he smirked, "but if anyone see us walking out together, it'll sure to raise some eyebrows."

"Alright you pervert-"

"Stop calling me that!"

"Stay as long as you need,"
A photo of a younger looking Gojo, with Shoko and another unfamiliar boy. Was he Gojo's friend?
You inspect further to see someone had written their names on the back,

"Gojo, Suguru, Shoko. 2007."

You try to look for more clues but come up with nothing.