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

150 ~ Hundred And Fifty

"So, the Noh mask wasn't a relic at all—just a carefully crafted decoy," you mused, your voice low and velvety, laced with a dark amusement. You tilted your head slightly, one brow arching as a smirk played at your lips, the kind that held secrets just out of reach.

Seated across from Nanami, you lounged back on the couch, legs crossed elegantly, the soft clink of porcelain breaking the silence as he set down a teacup in front of you. Noticing his meticulous care in placing a plate of blueberry cream cheese macarons within arm's reach, you let your gaze linger on him for a moment longer than usual.

His movements were steady, precise, yet there was a quiet consideration to them today—something more than mere courtesy.

Interesting.

"Yes," the blonde replied, his tone unwavering but heavy with that familiar seriousness.

He leaned back in his seat, but you caught the faint traces of fatigue in his posture. He looked worn—though nothing in his expression betrayed it. Still, he had taken the time to make sure you were comfortable, offering these small gestures of care.

The question was, why now?

You studied him in silence, eyes half-lidded, amusement simmering beneath the surface. "Nanami-san," you began, your voice smooth, trailing off as you picked up the teacup, your fingers brushing against the warm ceramic. "It's almost sweet, you being this concerned."

His reaction was subtle but there—just the faintest twitch of his brow, his lips pressing into a thin line. He didn't speak, but you caught the slight stiffening in his frame.

Ah, he didn't expect you to notice.

"If it's about last night... leaving me with Satoru," you continued with a soft laugh, the sound dark and edged with irony. "You don't need to concern yourself with that. I can handle him."

Nanami's gaze shifted, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he glanced away. "There's no need to read into things," he stated, his voice firm but tinged with an unusual note of discomfort, his fingers adjusting his tie—a rare gesture of unease for someone as composed as him.

You chuckled quietly, eyes gleaming as you took a delicate bite from a macaron. "You're a terrible liar, Nanami," you said softly, the words lilting with quiet confidence. You leaned forward slightly, letting your gaze lock with his as you traced the rim of your teacup with a slow, deliberate movement. "But it's fine. You have your reasons."

A brief silence hung between you, and for a moment, Nanami looked as though he might respond, but he chose not to. Instead, he shifted the conversation back to safer ground. "The mask was deliberately placed at the shrine," he said, regaining his composure, his tone as measured as ever. "Whoever did it knew enough about cursed objects to embed it with a significant amount of cursed energy."

You hummed thoughtfully, tapping a manicured nail against your cup. "I thought so," you commented, your voice low, controlled. "I absorbed some of the cursed energy before the mask broke."

His eyes flicked toward you sharply, his usual calm cracking for just a second. "You absorbed it?"

"You act surprised." You leaned back, draping one arm over the back of the couch, your posture relaxed but the intensity of your gaze never wavering. "I didn't plan to—these things have a way of happening. But I felt it. The curse's rage. Its memories." You paused, letting the weight of your words sink in. "Whoever made that mask... they wanted me to feel it."

Nanami exhaled slowly, his usual composed expression darkening with quiet intensity as he averted his gaze. "That's reckless," his voice held an undertone of sharpness, concern threaded through his steady tone. "But how can you be certain—"

"It's happened before," you interjected, your voice smooth, sultry but unwavering, like silk wrapping around steel. "On the rooftop, remember?"

His eyes flicked back to you, a shadow passing through his gaze—he wasn't easily rattled, but something about your calmness in recounting it made his brow furrow. "And you're only telling me this now?"

A slow, dry chuckle escaped your lips, the kind that danced on the edge of mockery. "With everything happening, it must've slipped my mind. The pain, the tests, the flag bearer game. Little details tend to fall through the cracks."