Chapter Text
I loved, and I loved and I lost you
How does one handle after having their boyfriend break up with them without a reason?
Scratch that— how does one handle losing boyfriend after boyfriend, without having a single reason why those things happen?
Because of the Utahime Iori situation right now, she might just break down for the third time in the past 7 months from facing issues after issues– an unsolicited situation.
Kenji Ito. Utahime's third ex, who broke up with her with a text, while she's hanging out with her group of friends, on the night of Shoko's birthday. She had her phone clutch in her hand, her mouth agape in disbelief, and she tried every single part in her bone and mind on wanting to stay strong, and not break down and potentially steal the spotlight of Shoko's 30th birthday.
The said birthday girl had a mic wrapped in her hand, her light brown eyes pins on the screen as the next lyrics of Justin Bieber's Baby flashes on the screen. Shoko looks the happiest since the last time Utahime had seen her, and she will try everything but to not have yet another vulnerable moment of her– overshadowing her best friend's night.
Even when her phone screen had locked from its times up of 30 seconds screen on, the words; the exact text that Kenji had sent her, tattoo at the back of her mind. Utahime sees her own face flashes on the screen– she might have appeared careless and unaffected, but Utahime always knew that her eyes might be the worst at keeping her story to herself.
She glanced up, seeing Shoko had pulled Nanami by his wrist, and persuaded him to join her for a duet– some sort of a ‘birthday girl wish’ that Nanami had no choice but to sigh in defeat. He took the mic, Shoko had chosen the song; this time, it's something Utahime hadn't known before.
“Is everything fine?”
It almost went unnoticed to Utahime that the night out had Gojo Satoru tagging along. He sat at the very end of the couch when he stepped in hours ago, now he's close– seated just by her side with his arms crossed to his chest. Utahime can see his pale brows raise in concern behind his dark tinted glass, the unexpected curious in his tone when he asks. If it was any other time, Utahime would have huffed and told him to go back to where he previously seated and a stern scold to ask him to mind his business.
This time, she couldn't even comprehend a single perfect sentence in her mind. Her tongue lay helpless in her mouth, her eyes blink once– then twice, before she offers him a small smile.
“I'm good.” Even the sentence sounds foreign to her own ears. “I just need some air.” She told him, putting back her phone inside the small beige purse that she had chosen for the night.
Gojo doesn't look very convinced in her words. “Are you sure you're good?”
“Peachy.” Utahime was already on her heels as she breathed out the lies between her teeth. “Tell Shoko to not be concerned about me, have her enjoy her night.”
She had already had her back on Gojo before she could even muster what look he had on his porcelain like face. Her heels click out of the karaoke room, her hand closes the door behind her before Utahime leans her back against the wall by its side.
Confusion. Tired. Exhausted.
Utahime had faced this all for months. Losing after losing, tears after tears, blame after blame– still she can't pinpoint what exactly went south on any of her past relationships– this time it included the very recent one of the list; Kenji.
Kenji might be the one who gives her the most happiness then all of the past men she had gone out with. He had the prettiest smile Utahime had ever seen, soft, comforting words, he noticed the little things and he had always been the most
understandable man she had known as he had never once got mad over Utahime's unstable life as a working sorcerer and a teacher. He himself was a semi-grade one like her, Utahime felt just as close as he too; understand things that she thought she was only one noticing.
And for the night, the text that he gave her was so foreign then what he usually gives her. It was a simple 8 word sentence.
“I don't think we're working out. I'm sorry.”
What had not worked out? Things between them were perfectly smooth, they liked each other's warmth and comfort, and since she had dated him for almost 2 months– the longest she had ever had since the last 2 exes that she had– Kenji and her had even discussed the possible length of their relationship. How they envision their future together; and Utahime had been more than happy seeing that he wasn't so different from her after all.
So what went south? What crosses Kenji's mind that makes him come to the conclusion that Utahime wasn't worthy of what he can give? What realization that he had come too, that a simple broken up text was deserving enough for Utahime's end?
The feeling of tears prickling from the corner of her eyes makes Utahime lift herself back to her feet. The sound of a new, melancholy like song from the inside of the karaoke room feels like a laughing stock for her situation. At first, Utahime had thought about wanting to go home straight away, but then she realized; she doesn't think she can handle seeing Kenji's stuff still laying around her place after getting out of a fresh breakup– so she decides not to.
Instead she went outside of the karaoke area, her footsteps leading her to another floor– above where all the fun was happening. The very top floor was the roof, it had nothing much other than a little chair that had a broken right leg at the side of the lift, and a rail where it faces the cold, piercing air of Tokyo night.
Utahime decides to go there, even when she knew her outfit was nowhere near appropriate for the night. Maybe this is what she needs– a harsh, bitter truth to herself that maybe it is her problem. Because how many more times does Utahime need her heart to be broken for her to realize that the wrong is on her; never on the past men that she had dated in her life.
Her heels clicked over the concrete floor, the cold of the night felt bitter on her skin. It is even worse when she leans her arms over the silver rails, her golden brown eyes shift to the ground before Utahime tips her head back and closes her eyes.
The tears fell freely then.
No one to comfort her, no one to knows what happen, and no one can feed her anymore lies about how people don't see her what she truly is— because Utahime knows what she truly is under the midnight sky– shes a hypocrite, self centered girl, who was to blind to see the fault of her side of the grass and keeps trusting the delusion of other words about bow she was better then what the others couldn't give.
Could you still blame someone else if the same cycle keeps happening to you?
“I have a feeling that it wasn't as fine as you trying to convince me to believe.”
A voice, steps away from her makes Utahime rub the tears harshly with her palm. She turns over her shoulder to glance back; she doesn't really appreciate the sight of careless Gojo Satoru, with his hand deep inside his slack pocket, tipping his head to the side with his words hanging in the air.
“What are you doing here?” Utahime's voice cracks when she mutters the question. “How do you even know I'm here in the first place?”
“Curse energies.” Gojo said it like it was obvious as he came much closer to her. Inching just a mere distance from her, Gojo raises his palm to cup her cheeks– the feeling of warmth radiating off his skin sends her body into a surprise feeling.
He didn't have his infinity up. Something that is never down unless he really needs it to be.
Gojo thumb wipes the trails of tears over her face, Utahime eyes stays lock to his pitch black glasses, something that she appreciates for one as she doesn't think she can handle having his cerulean blues locks with her; as if those pair of eyes can see through her soul with a single glance.
“And when something happens, you would usually go out in the fresh air,” he continued. “Clearly something has happened if you're crying and being outside in such cold weather.”
Utahime turns her back against him, facing the almost empty roads. “Go back inside, Gojo. The rest will look for you soon.”
Gojo lets out a long sigh. Instead of going back, Utahime feels his presence by her side, mirroring her by resting his arms over the railing. “If it was any other time, I might have listened to you. But this time? Nah, I don't think so.”
She already had too much on her plate, and having Gojo present and needling himself in her life right now, makes Utahime want to scream as loud as she could. Even it all, the tears, the tension, and the confusion wouldn't just go away like she wanted it to be.
“Tell me what happened, Uta.” There's no teasing or making fun like the tone that he had reserved for Utahime usually. Instead it was a soft question– something like he really wants to know. “Maybe I can help. Little something of it, I mean.”
Utahime feels the tightness in her chest, the heaviness of blame and regrets clouds of minds and vision. Before she even realizes, the words slip past her mouth against the consciousness of her mind.
“Kenji broke up with me.”
Gojo said nothing. The cat was already out of the bag, Utahime finds no point in keeping it to herself if it means the topic was already said to him.
“He did it by text.” Utahime continues, the tears clouds her vision slightly as her hands wiped them off. Now the road doesn't seem as blurry as it was before. “No reason, no other words just– telling me that he don't think we're working out and a simple ‘I'm sorry.’”
“That's a stupid move.” Gojo says.
“I don't think it's his fault.” Utahime voices something that has been circling in her mind.
She catches the brief confusion off Gojo's pouty lips when he turns to look at her. A single pale brow is all she sees before she glances to the night, fingers harden over the rails.
“Before, maybe I would have thought it was something on him– or any of the men that I used to go out with. But this time, I don't think I can keep blaming other people if I keep losing them in the same way, while keeping the blame out of myself.”
Gojo scoffs before he lets out a humorless laugh. “What are you even saying, Utahime?”
“That may be the reason why all of the men I had dated before didn't leave me because they can't stay. Maybe it's something about me, maybe– maybe it's something that was deeming myself unworthy to be loved because they all leave with the same pattern, Gojo.”
“That's bullshit,” Gojo utters, displeased.
Utahime feels the anger swimming inside her heart when she turns to look at Gojo. “How would you know, huh? All of my past relationships ended not even 5 months long. They all leave before things can get even serious. The first, yeah, maybe because Sato doesn't know how to stay committed. Then comes Arashi, who leaves me in a restaurant on our 1 month anniversary. Maybe because he doesn't know how to love someone else like how I did to him. But Kenji,” her voice cracks in disbelief. “Kenji is the only man that I can find myself truly love, who knows me, understands me like no other, and he left too, because now he says he doesn't think we can work out.”
Utahime cries to her palm, before she lifts back her head to lock her eyes to his tinted glasses. “Just- how many more times can I handle a broken heart and blame it on another, when even the good of them all leave me after telling me that they see the future of us together?”
Gojo had his hand wrapped around her wrist, as he pulled her close to him. The dam broke– she cries to his sweater, as her fingers clench tightly over the fabric. Gojo had one of his arms wrapped around her waist, while the other cups the back of her neck, pulling her close so her head rested under his chin. She knows she must be soaking his expensively fabric of a clothes; but she couldn't pay any of those a single mind, not when she feels the tightness around her throat loosen from her crying, not when Gojo hold her in some kind of a warmth that she didn't know she needed at the time like this.
“It just–”
Gojo shushes her before she can even say anything more. “Let it all out.” The deep timber of his voice vibrates under her palm. “I'm here, I'm always here, Hime’.”
So she lets her emotions get the best of her. The frustration, the confusion, all the doubts that she had been living with these past months— Utahime cried it to Gojo's chest, while his thumb rubs just at the back of her neck in a soothing manner. He had said nothing, he had not even pushed her away. Gojo had let her use his warmth, his existence alone for her to cry it all away, something that Utahime had not wanted to do in the past.
Her voice now comes out much clearer and softer, a little choked up in her vocal chord, but it wasn't as bad as when Utahime had just let her dam break.
Slowly, ever so softly in his palm that Utahime never knew can radiate so much comfort, Gojo cups her cheeks in his palm, his glasses no longer covering his eyes, giving her a full look through the soul of his, solely from the endless blue that his eyes can offer.
“I need you to listen to me, can you listen to me, Utahime.” Gojo asked. His voice was much softer too, there's no underlying playfulness that always tangles around his tone whenever they converse with one another.
Not trusting her voice to answer, Utahime gives him a single nod. The corner of Gojo's lips tips up so briefly that Utahime almost misses the little smile that he gives her.
“There is no single part of your life that ever comes out as unlovable,” Gojo says.
But her traitorous heart cant accept his words. “But they–”
“I asked you to listen,” Gojo reprimanded her, catching Utahime's sentence in a halt. “Can you do that for me?”
Utahime's voice cracks, as she gives his words another nod. “Y-yes.”
“Good girl.” The compliments sounded so foreign to his lips, something that Utahime had never been at the receiving end of his words— sending her emotions just a slight wave from the heavy broken heart that she's been living with.
“Ever since the very first time I knew you, you were the strongest, most ever loving girl that my eyes had ever lays on, and I knew whoever had grace the opportunity to have that position of being chosen by you– they'll be winning in their whole life,” Gojo starts off, his eyes never shift away from her. “You wear your heart on your sleeves, the compassion that you had, the unspeakable amount of love you give, those men that ever goes out with you couldn't even come close to it.”
“You love wholeheartedly, and not Sato, not Arashi, and not even Kenji, the one that you deemed complete your life the way you hadn't expected them too.”
His words caught her in a trance of disbelief. Of course Utahime knows in the playful and unserious way Gojo deals with his life, there's also a sense of seriousness, even if it was just the tiniest bit in his life. But to hear him pouring all of the things that Utahime had offered towards her past lovers hurt her in more ways than what words can offer.
She gave them all. Her time, the kindness of her heart, her blood, sweat and tears. All. But in the end, all Utahime got was nothing. Not even a bit— they all left her with no explanation. It hurts her more than anything else.
“They don't deserve you, not when they can't even give you the bare minimum, which is to love and cherish you unconditionally, the way that you give them with no question asked.” Gojo's tone was hard– as if it was concerned and hurt him too.
“They don't deserve you, Uta. Not in the slightest. Sato was not a sorcerer, he couldn't understand the life that you had been fighting to keep him and the rest of the people safe. Arashi,” he scoffs, "I'm sorry to say this, but he was a pathetic excuse of a man who doesn't just lack in a sorcerer's life, but he also thought leaving you in public would make it all even better.”
Utahime flinches under his tone.
Gojo breathes out a long sigh. “I know Kenji was the most serious you ever had been with, even when he didn't like me the slightest. He loved you, like you claimed he was, and you love him too– I saw it in your eyes, ‘Hime.”
Then she sees something swims in Gojo's eyes– something that she never once wanted to be associated with, especially if it's to her.
Pity. A sympathetic look that sums up the whole thing, making Utahime feel even much worse than what she had been feeling since the past hours.
“Did he even love you if he can leave you just like that, with no explanation given?” Gojo asks. His tone betrayed nothing else other than a mere question. It catches her in a gasp, sending her mind into a bliss of confusion and doubts. No matter how much Utahime wanted to deny it, wanted to tell him that– ‘no, Kenji does love me like he said he did’.
But was it true?
Was it as believable as she tried to convince him? Who was she trying to convince in the first place? Gojo? Or herself?
“I–.” She stutters. A doubt.
“He didn't.” It was not a question. It was a statement, making Utahime tilt her head up to lock her eyes with him.
“He didn't love you,” Gojo says simply in a softer tone. “Because if a man loves you, they give it all with nothing else to waste. If Kenji loves you, he wouldn't do what he does to you— by text. No explanation given. You feel comfortable and happy to love him, because he makes you feel understood in a length that you feel no other past lover of yours had given. But did he think the same as you?”
Her lips parted. Utahime can't come up with a single excuse.
Gojo tilts down his head slightly to catch her eyes, who now refuses to lock with him. “Uta.” He calls her. “Kenji did not deserve, not even a single tear that you slipped past your eyes for him. You're incomparable to him– you are far better in many ways than him. Maybe that's what makes him doubt himself when he sees the length you can go for him.”
Even when her heart feels heavy, Utahime couldn't help her mind from stopping and considering Gojo's words to him. As if those make sense, even when her heart keeps telling her that—’no. What I have with Kenji was real.’
Gojo blinks, somehow under the moonlight, the endless blue of his eyes shines even brighter than what Utahime had seen him a couple of minutes ago. The sparks shine bright, the blue gleams beautifully– terrifyingly beautiful that it makes her feel like being lulled into the deepest ocean.
“You wanted to know what you truly deserve, Uta?” Gojo asks her, honesty apparent.
Utahime mouth parted. “Is there even anything else that I deserve?”
“More.” Gojo smiles. “Endless. You deserve so much more than all three ex lovers that you had combined,” he continues. “Not some normal man like Sato, nothing like Arashi, even far stronger than Kenji. You deserve a real lover. The one who can love you thousand folds more than what you give, the one who has you through your ups and down– a tree where you lean when things get too much. Endless, Uta. Endless kinds of love and cares, infinite of them,” he raises his voice as if he wants his words to get through her head, before the stern of his voice, lowered. Deeper. Resonate under the palm of her hands.
“You deserve m– man who knows your worth.”
This time Utahime felt herself teared up again– this time, it was not because of reminiscing her lost lovers, it's from how Gojo wanted her to move past them. She never realized how much she needed someone to remind her what she had given them while having nothing in return. It truly broke her heart realizing her state, but then again, Utahime had her heart broken and mends a couple of times. Maybe this time Utahime knows to not pour her love to people who's not worth it.
Even Kenji? Her mind supplies. Her heart clenched.
If he loves her like he claimed he was, he wouldn't leave her; her heart reprimanded.
The coldness of Gojo's palm against her cheeks, wiping off her tears was what brought her back to her senses. He had a warm smile on his lips, contrasting the cold night of Tokyo. Against her knowledge, Utahime mirrors the smile.
“Thank you.” She whispers. “I– thank you.” Utahime doesn't know how to tell him, but judging by how Gojo smiles tips up, the blues of his eyes soften, Utahime knows he understands just what her lips can't give.