Ataraxia 平静 | Gojo Satoru

-'๑'-𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝟏-'๑'-

We decided to head back for a nap, feeling worn out and covered in a layer of salt and sand—but our grins were so wide they threatened to split our cheeks. Nobara grumbled all the way back to the beach house about her newly acquired sunburn, placing the blame squarely on us for not rousing her from her sun-soaked slumber.

It was Yuji who had called her out for hardly budging from her towel. The swollen bump on top of his head served as undeniable evidence.

Upon entering the house, I was pleasantly surprised by its layout. It wasn't overly spacious, but it was arranged in a neat and inviting manner, with two generously sized bedrooms sharing a balcony. The trio claimed the smaller room, leaving the rest of us to settle into the other.

There was, however, only one bed.

A single glance at the two large men sprawled across it was enough to paint a vivid picture of how much space Shoko and I were about to share. I released a resigned sigh.

"Nobara conveniently forgot to mention this," Shoko grumbled, rummaging through her bag.

"We could always leave Satoru outside on the doormat," Geto suggested with a smirk, slinging an arm around Gojo's shoulders.

"I have feelings, you know," Gojo feigned a pout, crossing his arms over his chest.

We all chuckled at his theatrics, and I flopped down onto the small sliver of the bed that wasn't already occupied by their legs.

"Who's showering first?" I mumbled, my voice muffled by the sheets. I didn't need to look to know that it was Shoko shuffling toward the bathroom with a soft giggle.

"Obviously. . ." Geto muttered, pushing himself up and shedding his shirt. "And she's bound to take forever, too."

I couldn't help but smirk, maneuvering myself to claim his spot on the mattress. He merely shot me a bored look and sighed.

"I'll go check on the kids, see if they've broken anything yet," he announced from the doorway, leaning against the frame with his elbows. "Are we planning to go out for dinner?"

I glanced at Gojo, who nodded before settling back against the headrest. "I want to try out the street food."

My stomach chose that moment to emit a loud rumble, as if on cue, making both men grin. I rolled onto my stomach, burying my face in a pillow.

"I guess that's a yes," Geto concluded with a chuckle, pushing off the wall and making his way into the living room.

I mumbled in response, idly swinging my feet in the air in an attempt to shake off my drowsiness.

A comfortable silence settled between us.

"Stop that with your feet," Gojo complained beside me.

I inwardly rolled my eyes. "Why?"

"Because you're kicking sand everywhere," he replied, trying to pin my legs down with his own.

"My feet are clean," I countered, my voice still muffled as I made no effort to lift my face from the pillow.

I heard him click his tongue disapprovingly as I continued to resist his efforts. "You're such a brat."

"And you're a crybaby—"

Before I could finish my retort, he seized one of my ankles. "Let me go," I demanded, lifting my head slightly to glare at him.

"No," he shot back with a grin, and I narrowed my eyes in response. "Just look at the mess you've made."

Reluctantly, I shifted my gaze to the bed, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion.

It was a bait. The moment I turned my head, he pounced, tackling me and tickling the soles of my feet. I let out a squeak of protest, frantically trying to push him away.