Bound In Love's Curse [Gojo Satoru x Female Readers]

122 ~ Hundred And Twenty-Two

[N]anami's gaze stayed steady, unflinching. "To be frank, your issue isn't that she isn't fun; it's that she doesn't conform to your expectations," he observed calmly. "She's beyond those standards, to the point where even you struggle to understand her."

Gojo stilled at that. The words echoed something that had been nagging at him for a while, something he didn't want to admit but couldn't fully deny either.

You weren't fun because you weren't simple. You weren't the kind of person who easily fell into predictable patterns, the kind Gojo could play with, push buttons, and see the outcome.

You were beyond what he could typically handle—someone who wasn't swayed by his charm or drawn into his gravitational pull the way others were.

But, he liked that.

He liked the challenge. Liked that every interaction with you was like a game he hadn't quite figured out yet. A puzzle with no clear solution.

"Yeah... maybe," he muttered with a deep sigh. His fingers paused, mid-gesture of tapping on his knee, the familiar smirk returning to his lips, but there was something sharper behind it now. "You know I love a challenge, Nanami."

The blonde didn't immediately respond, though his brow furrowed ever so slightly. Gojo knew what that meant. Nanami wasn't buying his casual deflection.

"You don't just want the challenge," he pointed out, his voice measured, the words deliberate. "You want to own it. You want to be the only one who understands her. The one in control."

Gojo's smirk faltered, if only for a brief second. His cerulean blue eyes, hidden beneath the blindfold, glinted with something unreadable. "Maybe."

There was a pause. A beat where neither of them said anything. The room was quiet, almost too quiet.

Then, true to form, Nanami cut through the silence with his bluntness. "You're being possessive."

Gojo's smile dropped completely. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaunt darkening. "And what if I am?" His voice was low, challenging. "You make it sound like a bad thing."

Nanami didn't flinch, didn't react to the edge in Gojo's tone. His own voice remained calm, cool, collected. "It can be. If you're not careful."

The strongest tilted his head slightly, as if studying Nanami with mild amusement. "Are you giving me relationship advice now?"

Nanami exhaled through his nose, adjusting his tie in a way that Gojo recognized as his 'patience wearing thin' gesture. "I'm giving you perspective. Whether you want it or not."

The strongest chuckled, but the sound was hollow, lacking his usual mirth.

His mind wasn't on Nanami anymore. It was back on you. The look in your eyes whenever you distanced yourself from him—like you were somewhere else, miles away, even when you were right in front of him. The distance gnawed at him, chewed at the edges of his mind.

You weren't like everyone else. Didn't fall into orbit around him like people always did.

No, you pushed him out of yours sometimes, and he hated it. Hated that he couldn't just pull you back the way he could with anyone else.

"But she's mine," Gojo whispered, more to himself than to Nanami. "And that's not going to change."

Nanami's eyes flickered with something—something close to concern, though he masked it quickly. His voice stayed neutral. "That's not your choice to make, Gojo."

The white-haired leaned back again, lounging nonchalantly as the smirk returned to his lips. "You're not eyeing her, are you, huh? Nanamin?"

The blonde sighed, his patience visibly thinning. He adjusted his tie again, a gesture that spoke volumes about his growing disinterest in Gojo's provocations. "I don't have time for your childishness."

Gojo chuckled, the sound light but edged with something darker, more territorial. His expression didn't shift much, but the flicker in his blindfolded eyes told a different story.

He didn't like the jealousy that bubbled up inside him—didn't like imagining anyone else seeing you the way he did. But it was there, gnawing at him. Always there.

"Can't blame me for just making sure, right?"

Nanami arched an eyebrow, his own irritation finally scratching the surface. "And yet it bothered you when she questioned you about Utahime?"

This caused Gojo's lips to twist into a complicated smirk, clearly unsettled by Nanami's unexpected snark. "What are you trying to say?"

"Double standard," the blonde grunted, his voice flat but pointed. He wasn't one to engage in Gojo's nonsense, but if he didn't call him out, who would? "You enforce rules you don't even follow yourself. You hate seeing Y/N around other men, yet you expect her to be fine with you and Utahime? Can't blame her if she doesn't trust you anymore."

The strongest flinched since the words hit harder than they should have, especially coming from someone like Nanami.

There it was again—that familiar sting of truth. The phantom echo of Geto's voice had once said something similar, accusing him of being a hypocrite. And now Nanami, of all people, was rubbing salt into the wound.

Still, he wasn't about to admit that to anyone, least of all Nanami.

"I haven't given her any reason to doubt me," he mumbled, his tone nearly dismissive, though the weight of Nanami's words lingered.

"Neither has she. So why are you doubting her?"

He shrugged, "I'm doubting the intentions of those around her, not her."

Nanami's gaze sharpened slightly at that. "Funny, I could say the same about your situation with Utahime. You expect her to be okay with that?"

This sounded like some sort of gut-punch to the sorcerer. He responded, voice clipped. "And what do you think you know about—"

But before Gojo could even finish his sentence or launch into another retort, there was a sharp knock at the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

The tension in the room broke, the heated exchange between them cut short as both men turned toward the sound. Nanami's office, usually a sanctuary of calm amidst the chaos of the Jujutsu world, felt suffocating for a moment.

Gojo's eyes flickered toward Nanami. The interruption was well-timed, though the silence between them was now loaded with unresolved tension.

"Guess we'll have to put a pin in this," Gojo muttered, his tone a mix of frustration and something else—reluctance, maybe. As if he hadn't expected the conversation to take this turn.

Nanami didn't reply, but the slight twitch of his eyebrow was enough to show he wasn't done with this. Neither of them were. But for now, the knock at the door offered a reprieve from a conversation neither was ready to finish.

Nanami's focus shifted back to his work as he called out, "Come in."

The door creaked open, and Utahime and Shoko walked in, instantly catching everyone's attention.

A subtle shift in the room made it clear that Gojo was tensed. But it wasn't entirely due to Utahime's presence. No, it was more about you—specifically, who was with you. Even though you'd insisted he didn't need to stand guard, he couldn't help but worry.

Utahime took a seat next to Gojo with a casual ease, while Shoko settled beside Nanami. This arrangement drew a smirk from the blonde, as if he was silently saying, See? This is what I meant.

Gojo's irritation flared briefly, his jaw tightening at the insinuation.

It was a fleeting reaction, quickly masked by a practiced nonchalance. He stood up, his gaze still obscured by his blindfold. "Alright, I'm guessing Y/N's alone. I'll check on her."

"Toge is with her," Shoko interrupted, her tone cool and almost dismissive. "Sit down. We need to talk. All of us."

The strongest's eyes met Nanami's again, and the blonde's knowing arch of the brow only fueled Gojo's annoyance. "Nah. I'm fine," he muttered, taking a step back and leaning against the wall.

The two women, seemingly unaware of the tension between the men, carried on.

"We still need to talk," Shoko reiterated.

"About what?"

"Whatever happened a few days ago."

Gojo instantly stiffened at the mention. It seemed like after getting an earful from you and Nanami, now Shoko—and possibly Utahime—were going to weigh in. It was as if he couldn't catch a break.

"Alright," he conceded, his voice laced with a subtle hint of resignation as he leaned against the wall, clearly trying to avoid Nanami's scrutinizing gaze. "Let's talk then."

There was another brief pause before Utahime broke the silence, her sigh heavy with exasperation. "Just to be clear, Y/N didn't push me with the intent to kill me. In case you were wondering."

"What are you trying to say?"

Utahime's gaze hardened, but she kept her voice even. "There was no reason to slap her or get mad because you thought she did. You owe her an apology."

Gojo's jaw tightened. "Yeah, I will." He gave a curt nod, clearly not in the mood for a drawn-out conversation. "Is that it?"

The impatience in his voice was undeniable, but it wasn't lost on anyone why he was in such a hurry.

No missions were lined up, no responsibilities pulling him away. No, it was all about you. Even though you'd said he scared you, even though you'd asked him to stay away, Gojo still wanted to be there—wanted to make sure you were okay.

Utahime's presence in the room only made it worse. It reminded him of everything he'd been trying to push down. The sting of knowing you were afraid of him, afraid enough to avoid him completely.

"No," Shoko's voice cut in, calm but firm. "I spoke with Yaga-sensei. He mentioned that he assigned Y/N's case to you because of your talent for uncovering hidden truths, much like you did with Yuta."

That piqued Gojo's interest, an eyebrow arching beneath his white blindfold. Barely perceptible.

Since when did Shoko get involved with his assignments? And why did he feel so defensive?

"Said it's a mystery why it hasn't been solved yet. By you, specifically," Shoko continued, her words unfiltered, hitting a little too close to home.

Gojo flinched, though barely noticeable.

It wasn't just her words—it was the growing sense of frustration.

Lately, all he'd been hearing were accusations, blame, endless lectures. It was wearing him down, little by little. He was Satoru Gojo, after all. He'd figure something out. He always did.

But Shoko wasn't looking to rub salt in the wound. She added, "We're going to help. Yaga agreed to let us assist."

Gojo blinked, genuinely surprised for a moment. "What? How?"

"For starters," she began, and now he was intrigued. He couldn't remember the last time Shoko took the lead on anything like this. It was always him or Suguru. This was... unexpected. And honestly? A welcomed change. "Nanami's been doing his own investigation. We thought it'd be smart to pool everything together. Brief each other on what we've found. Maybe there's something we've all missed."

That got his full attention. Gojo straightened slightly, eyes narrowing in thought.

Nanami's been digging into things on his own? And Shoko's gone through every last detail of your medical records?

Hell yeah, this was useful. Between the three of them, they could piece together everything—clues about the curse, the car wreck, the rooftop attack.

Gojo cracked his usual cocky smirk, feeling more like himself again. "Nice work, Shoko." The confidence returned to his voice as he leaned back, relaxed. "Alright, then. Unpack it. Let's get to work."