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—You tell him.
—No, you tell him.
The four tickets weigh inside Gojo’s pockets. They are not heavy, just some hard paper with shiny details and bright colors. It took quite a long time to get the tickets for the international sweets convention that’s taking place in Tokyo this year, but Gojo was attentive and spent a significant amount of money on the pre-sale, just to make sure to get an entrance for each one of them.
Finally, Nobara is the one that takes one step ahead, determination in her eyes as Yuji and Megumi practically hide behind her back. Gojo gives her a big smile, hand going to his pocket to pull out the tickets.
—We have other plans, sensei.
Oh.
That’s… not what Gojo had in mind, but still he smiles as he lets his hand down, long fingers toying with one of the buttons of his dress shirt. He ditched his uniform somewhere on the floor of his apartment, opting for something a little bit more informal today.
—What plans?
—We are going on a food tour in Omotesandō.
It takes a few seconds for Gojo to analyze her words, but when he does, his smile barely falters at the corners. This is not what he had planned and, hell, he spent a whole lot of cash on the tickets, but still, it could work. It’s a really pretty day to walk around Tokyo enjoying different food from different restaurants, after all.
—I prefer sweet food over savory, but I guess we can do that.- It’s his answer but, instead of seeing the smiles of relief in the faces of his students, all he sees is tensed up jaws and furrowed brows.
—Sensei, we...
Yuji can’t finish the sentence, stuttering over his words before Nobara does it for him. It’s obvious something is troubling his young apprentice and that Megumi looks particularly apprehensive today, but Gojo can’t really pinpoint the reason.
—We are going alone, sensei. The three of us. Without you.
—Oh.
Mouth agape, that’s the only thing he can say. Nobara looks sad and maybe angry, having been the one to have this conversation with him. It makes sense, Yuji is too kind to actually turn him down and Megumi probably didn’t want to deal with all the awkward talking. Gojo swallows, throat too tight, and maybe there’s something Nobara can see behind his glasses because she gives him a small, tight lipped smile.
—It’s nothing personal, sensei. No teenager wants to spend all their free time with an adult.
—Yes, yes. I understand.
—Besides, you’re a popular guy, aren’t you? I’m sure you’ll find someone else to go with.
—Yes. I’m… sure I will.
Again, there must be something in him his students can easily read, because Yuji looks particularly saddened when he looks at his teacher. The teenager takes a few steps ahead, head leaning to one side and big eyes full of sympathy.
—Maybe we can…- He starts, but when Gojo looks up at the others’ faces, all he can see is pity and uneasiness. It’s obvious he’s only crashing on their plans and that none of them is interested in joining him this afternoon.
—No, no, no problem. You kids go enjoy your tour, I’ll go with someone else, don’t worry. In fact, I guess people will have to fight just to see who’ll get the chance to accompany the great Gojo Satoru this afternoon.
—Sure?
—Of course.-Gojo answers, hand going to ruffle Yuji’s hair. Slowly, his students make their way to the exit of Jujutsu High, giving him some last stares. He smiles and waves with one hand, the other going to his pocket to trace the outline of the cardstock paper.
It’s okay. He still has some time before the convention. He can get someone else to go with him. Now, he only needs to talk to…
Nanami.
Nanami barely looks up from the newspaper he’s reading. Gojo doesn’t really know what it says and, as far as he can see, the articles are probably in English. How his junior can comprehend complicated finances and political stuff in another language without dying of boredom is far beyond his understanding.
—No.
—You didn’t even listen to what I have to say!
—I have other plans. I don’t need to know anything else.
—But it’s a famous candy convention! I’m talking about worldwide famous. And it’s celebrated today in Tokyo. I had to get these tickets weeks ago and let me tell you, it wasn’t easy.
—That’s sad.
Soon, it’s obvious Nanami is only half listening to his words, eyes quickly going from left to right as he reads, fingers a little bit stained with the fresh ink of the newspaper. He looks tired and pissed off, but that’s just how Nanami always looks.
—What plans do you have that are better than this?- Gojo asks, tickets flashing before Nanami’s eyes as he looks up.
—First, you know I don’t like sweet stuff. Second, I plan on going home, drinking beer and eating an early dinner before going to bed.
—Are you going to ditch your best friend just for a beer and going to bed early?
—Yes. And you’re not my best friend.
—Who is it then?
There’s a long silence, as if his question had caught Nanami off guard. Finally, he sighs as he straightens up, folding the newspaper in a half.
—Ijichi.- He says, after a while, voice too tense. Gojo huffs and puffs, eyes almost rolling inside his skull.
—That’s a lie.
—It’s not. It doesn’t really matter. I’m not going to a candy convention with you.
In the end, Gojo accepts it’s useless to try to argue with Nanami when he’s set on an idea. Checking the time on his cellphone, he decides everything is still fine. There’s lots of time to find someone else. His next target is…
Ijichi.
Ijichi looks like he might have a heart attack the moment Gojo appears behind him, screaming in his ear and waving the shiny tickets in front of his glasses. Gojo laughs softly, talking too fast when he explains the situation. At this point, he has to admit he’s getting tired of explaining the same thing over and over, but it’ll be worth it. He’s really excited about tasting new sweets and pastries from countries all around the globe.
—I see.- It’s all Ijichi says, as soon as he lets him get in a word.
After that, it’s all silence. His junior fidgets with the rim of his white dress shirt, looking too tired and nervous. He looks as if he’s finding the right thing to say and Gojo really can’t understand why Ijichi might need so many words to just say yes.
—I’m so sorry, I can’t go with you.
That’s… not what he expected. There’s a long wail escaping his lips before he can stop himself, an almost childish whine that just makes Ijichi pinch his nose bridge in frustration.
—I have other plans. There’s stuff I need to finish here, then I have to drop off some papers in the post office, then I have to take the car to the car wash and then…
As Ijichi continues enumerating all the things he has to do today, Gojo can’t help but to wander off inside his mind. The tickets are getting heavier and heavier inside his pockets and the time is running out, so he doesn’t even say goodbye before teleporting away. His smartphone shows there’s only an hour left before the start of the event and he really doesn’t want to be late.
Well, there’s still some people left he hasn’t asked out yet.
The second years all say no. Maki is the one designated to make up an excuse for all of them and Gojo thinks he should really talk to his students about burdening their female schoolmates with all the hard talks. Shoko is a little bit gentler when she turns him down and Gojo doesn’t insist because he knows her well enough, he can clearly see how the work is piling up on her and how she looks like she hasn’t slept in weeks. Yaga kicks him out of his office before he can even ask.
That leaves him with less and less people left. Mei Mei is not an option, he’s not desperate enough to pay someone for company, at least not yet. Utahime answers his phone call, but she sounds heavily disappointed and maybe even genuinely upset when she hears the reason.
—I’m in Kyoto.
—You can take the train.
—The train takes two hours from here to there.
—I can go get you.
—The answer is still no.
—Come on, Utahime. Don’t you like sweets?
—I like sweets. I don’t like you.
Gojo is about to make a snarky comment when the phone call gets disconnected. No matter how many times he calls back, nobody answers. There goes another perfectly valid option, he thinks, as he scrolls through his contact list.
Ah, there. This one, this one can’t fail him.
It fails.
—Sensei, I’m in another country. You know it.
—But I can go get you, Yuta. We’ll teleport real quick.
There’s a long silence on the other side of the line as his student sighs. Gojo waits and waits, leg bobbing up and down in a fast rhythm. He’s getting impatient and the clock seems to go faster and faster every second.
—I’m sorry, I’m really busy right now and I can’t leave this place. We’re following a good lead.
—Oh, and Miguel? Does he want to come?
There’s some shouting in the background, some words in a foreign language he can’t really understand, but the nervousness in Yuta’s voice as he translates tells him that it was nothing good.
—He says sorry, too. I hope you can find someone else.
—Don’t worry about it, kid. Goodbye.
As Yuta says goodbye, Gojo doesn't know if he's more troubled about how sad his student sounded or the fact that he has no one else to ask out.
Sitting at a table way too big for him alone, Gojo scrolls through the contacts on his phone. There’s a plate with some small sweets and pastries in front of him, each labeled with a name, a place and a reference number so he can search them in his information booklet. The food looks good, refined, colorful and sugary, and Gojo can’t help but to put some inside his mouth without even checking their names or where they are from.
There are lots of phone numbers saved, most of them belonging to random people he met and went out with once or twice before he got tired, but Gojo doesn’t want to call any of those. This is not something he wanted to share with one of his one night stands, this was something meant to be shared with close friends and dear ones, with people who love him and people he loves.
And he's Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer ever, probably the most important person in the whole Jujutsu world nowadays. He wasn't supposed to be alone, not now, not when people worshipped the floor he walked on when he was a child.
There’s one last number he hasn’t called to yet. His thumb stops over the name, shaky, and suddenly his throat is too tight.
On the screen, the black letters read a single word.
“Suguru”.
Gojo is not sure how that number is still in his contact list or why hasn’t him deleted it yet, but there it is, too black over the bright screen. Is like a mock, a curse. He presses it quickly, taking the phone to his ear to listen to the dial tone. It rings once, twice, thrice before he panics and ends the call with too much strength, phone hitting the table loudly.
No, he can’t do it. Gojo doesn’t know what scares him the most, if it is the possibility of Suguru actually picking up or the possibility of somebody else doing it, of hearing a different voice on the other side of the line.
Breathing deep, Gojo takes two more sweets to his mouth. They are supposed to be the best of the best, but to him, they are nothing but a bitter aftertaste.