"So?" Gojo draws the word out like an entire conversation. "What happened?"
You close your eyes and rub at your throbbing temples, because of course that would be the first question Gojo asks. The man thrives off drama, and what better way to entertain himself than with his students' love lives? Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the red flush covering Yuta's face; he looks absolutely mortified. Any more of Gojo's pointed questions, and you're sure that he'll burst into flames where he sits.
Megumi, for his part, looks queasy. You wonder if this is due to Gojo's driving, or the fact that he's now an unwilling bystander to the most uncomfortable topic known in the history of man ━ his sister's love life with his beloved senior. "Gojo, I don't think I want to hear this."
"Well I do, Megumi, so sit there and be quiet." Gojo retorts, before turning his attention back to you. Privately, you think that his attention should be directed to the road, before the three of you end up back in the hospital again. "What happened? Tell Gojo-sensei everything."
Through the rearview mirror, you pin Gojo in place with a dry stare. You hope that does the job in conveying how unlikely that possibility is. But Gojo must have some inkling of what transpired between you and Yuta, had probably seen the heat washing over your cheeks and the bashful way Yuta had lowered his eyes to the floor. And most telling of all: the way your fingers had been tangled with his; loosely at first, but you'd grown bold enough to press your fingers flush against his, secretly thrilled when Yuta hadn't pulled away or told you to stop.
Oh, yeah. Gojo knows.
"I'm hungry," you say instead. It's just about time for dinner anyway, and what do you know, you're actually feeling hungry tonight. Hopefully you'll be able to keep dinner down this time. "Let's get dinner. I want pizza."
The tires squeal and the car lurches to one side. You grip your seat even harder, your heart hammering painfully in your chest. Gojo flashes you a wide smile, but even that isn't enough to take the edge off your anxiety. "That's good! You'll need your strength for tomorrow!"
"What about Maki and everyone else?" Megumi asks, but it doesn't escape your notice, how quickly he jumps at changing the subject.
"There's this fantastic little thing called takeaway. And if they're hungry enough, they can cook."
"They'll burn the dorms down."
"Guys . . ."
"I want pineapple on my pizza!"
"Who the hell eats pineapple with pizza?"
"I the hell do! Language, Megumi!"
"And this is how wars start," you say, thoroughly unimpressed by Gojo's maturity as he bickers with a fifteen-year-old about the pros and cons of putting pineapple on pizza. Though it's not the first argument you've witnessed between them over the years, weathered by Tsumiki's feather-light smile.
Yuta nudges you, his warm shoulder brushing against yours. "What's happening tomorrow?"
"The Elders want to speak with me. Probably about the ━" You can't hide your grimace of displeasure. "━ Footage." You've just about had enough of saying that word, and you've seen enough of said footage to last you a lifetime.
"Oh. That makes sense."
"What'd they ask you?"
Yuta's eyes flicker to yours, and then away, staring at the sky in shades of pink and purples like the cotton candy you've seen at carnivals. "Nothing much."
Even if Yuta doesn't want to talk about it, you can kind of guess what they've asked him; what was your relationship with Rika Orimoto, can you confirm that the curse has been lifted, is Rika Orimoto truly dead. All kinds of invasive, prying questions you're sure Yuta hadn't wanted to answer, but had probably been pressured into giving them the answers anyway.
