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Gojo drives like a madman.

If only he were as good at driving as he is at exorcising curses – then, you wouldn't have had to white-knuckle it all the way to the hospital downtown. Your already nauseous stomach churns even more, and in desperation, you find yourself downing yet another packet of antacids, breathing through your mouth and praying that you won't throw up. You really, really, don't want to throw up.

The reason for Gojo's horrendous driving is made all too clear to you when you're ushered down a sterile white hallway and into the emergency room.

"Cutting it a little close, aren't we?" You stare down at the mangled lumps of flesh and bone on the hospital beds, limbs twisted at unnatural angles, fear permanently carved into their expressions, even in repose. You think that they'd once been human, but it's hard to tell with the state that they're in. You activate your Reverse Cursed Technique, watching as your fingertips glow with a warm, buttery light. Your own pain, all your ailments – it all recedes like the tide going out, and you sigh in relief, granted a temporary respite from suffering. "If I'd been even a minute later – What happened? I've never seen injuries this severe outside of combat."

"Yuta Okkotsu." Gojo drawls out, as if the name is supposed to tell you everything that you need to know.

A question is written in your eyes when you twist in your seat to glance his way. "I need more details, Sensei."

"He's cursed." And his voice is so casual, as if the two of you are discussing the weather rather than an incident which had nearly claimed four human lives. "The incident report says that these kids tried to bully him, but the curse he's afflicted with intervened. We're keeping him in custody for now."

"Huh." Hence the mangled bodies. Privately, you think that they might have deserved it, and from the knowing look Gojo gives you, your thoughts must show on your face. Oops. Face burning, you turn your attention back to the casualties – even though they're long since healed, as though they had never been injured in the first place. "Any chance I could go and see him?"

"Officially – no. Unofficially – Yes! I could never refuse a request from my cute little [ NAME ]!" Gojo dances over, wraps an arm around your shoulders and squeezes, touching you with more love and affection than you've ever received from your parents. "Leave it all to your Sensei!"

The smile you grace him with is wide and warm. "Alright, what are you after? Out with it."

"Well, now that you mention it . . . It's been a while since you've baked those peanut butter cookies –"

"I knew it."

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