Tit for Tat (GojoHime) - Part 1

Just Take Me Home

Utahime was shaking. It had to be the shock, not the cold, because however close he held her, and however much he rubbed her arms and back, her teeth didn't stop chattering.

"Almost there," Gojo soothed her.

He teleported in several intervals since he couldn't be sure how much she still hated it after what had happened last time, thinking that stops during which she could breathe the fresh night air would help ease any discomfort she might feel. He also took extra great care to make the transitions as smooth as possible, which was a bit of a challenge because both his hands were wrapped around her body and he kind of needed those for finesse.

She didn't say a thing about any of it, which disquieted him almost more than the shivering. She was probably in pain, but she wasn't crying. Her clothing was in disarray, her stockings were ripped, her skin was skinned in several places. Her hands were bloody. They had hit her in the face. She was hiding it against his chest, but he could still see the bruises become more visible with every minute that passed, one eye was swelling up, her lip was split and thick.

Gods, he could barely stop himself from acting on this burning rage he felt. He wanted to punish every single person who had known about this and if it meant killing his entire Clan! But since he did not want to leave her alone in the condition she was in, he tried to keep his rage contained, tried to store it away somewhere where it wouldn't burst out at an inopportune moment, but somewhere he could reach it the next time he stood in front of the people he wished he didn't share any blood with.

It started drizzling when they were about half-way. His Infinity protected him from the weather - at the cost of his body heat not reaching her so he switched it off.

"You'll get wet," she murmured, the first thing she said after telling him to take her home. "Idiot."

The dampness of the rain settled on his hair, weighed it down, sent rivulets of water down his skin. Gojo shielded her small body from the wetness as best he could, re-balancing her inconsequential weight. Promptly, she put her arms around his neck, trying to lessen his burden by hoisting herself up.

"I can stand," she lied, "I'm too heavy for you."

Too heavy? Funny that. She weighed almost nothing but it felt that what he held in his arms was heavy nonetheless, because her frail, battered vulnerability weighed on his soul.

What had happened to her was all his fault.

Gojo got annoyed with fictional characters who took the blame for the world's woes and then acted as noble idiots as a result. In those stories, it was so obvious it was never the characters' fault because there was no way they could have prevented all the bad things from happening. This though? This was different. He could very well have prevented this. He could have looked a little closer at the incident in December instead of letting himself be drawn into a whirlwind of missions and other duties. He should have realized those worms would try again instead of believing they were smart enough to realize they stood no chance against him. He should have pulverized his relatives instead of punishing just some of the most prominent members lightly. Bottom line was, he should have thought like they did. He should have realized what his weakness was.

Wrong. He looked at the woman in his arms: Not a weakness. He had no weaknesses. But he should have been smart enough to realize they would think he had a weakness. Bottom line was: Taking Utahime to the shrine on his birthday had been a mistake. It was all his fault, he felt guilty and angry as hell but... the worst part of it was this: having a truly lousy personality, he would do it again tomorrow. And again. And again. Utahime singing his Ancestor into submission was by far the best thing that had happened to him in the last ten years or so.