Chapter Text
They're sitting in the kitchen now. Yuuji generously shared straight jeans and a short-sleeved, crew-neck shirt with Satoru (though in the end he had to take the clothes out of one of the rooms next to his, because his garments were somewhat small for Gojo), and didn't even kick him out after a chaotic explanation of the whole situation.
At first, Yuuji had taken the news about the witch too calmly. Magic in his world is not such a common thing among people, so at some point, Satoru even suspected Itadori of being a sorcerer. But no. It's just that his dear friend, with whom he constantly communicated by voice messages on his cell phone, is also a witch. She doesn't turn people into cats, but she used to practice voodoo. Itadori proudly talks about her healing capabilities with dolls, so Gojo becomes reckless enough and asks for all her contact information. If she was just as Itadori said, then she could help him with his knee pains. Now that he had returned to being human, all his ailments had also returned.
"Huh? You're not looking to offend her too, do you?" Itadori asks sternly, still watching him with some mistrust. Well, he definitely hadn't given much thought to what his words implied.
"Do you really have that stupid impression about me so soon, Yuuji-kun?" he protested, resting his arms bitterly with a slight pout on the table. "It wasn't for that, anyway. I don't plan to have any more women or people like that in my life... Only you, of course."
Yuuji snorts wearily. For the last half hour, they had been talking about how Satoru actually turned out to be the cat he had picked up on the street and also about his particular behavior disguised as a cat. Itadori, ended up thanking him for his help with the guy from the night before and Gojo, in response to this, offered to have a good normal date, after which he wouldn't try anything as despicable as that idiot.
"First of all, don't call me that, we're not close enough," mumbled Itadori between his teeth, trying to keep a neutral tone of voice. "Secondly, just because you were my cat and because I know magic exists doesn't mean this whole thing isn't weird, you know? Let's go in parts, no dating and no... well, all that for now." Itadori looks completely discouraged at this point.
"It's okay, Yuuji-kun. I understand you. No problem if you don't like me in the end," Satoru says easily, resting his chin on his hands and smiles with sharp teeth, because he knows for sure that he's already liked him enough. Itadori contemplates him for a moment, blinking several times, skeptical.
The strange pause is soon interrupted by the ringing of the front doorbell, a sound Gojo had almost forgotten from how little he used to hear it in the house. Unconsciously, he finds himself going over the pattern in his mind, just so he can memorize a little more of what would soon be gone.
"What an opportune time to knock on the door..." Yuuji mutters before getting up from his seat only to go see who it is with an overwhelmed gesture. Satoru simply remains in the kitchen, eyeing the cup of coffee Itadori had offered him before lending him the clothes, while wondering how he could possibly manage to stay in the place a little longer. After all, he has no clothes, no money, and no phone to even contact his friends who, now that he thinks about it properly, are most likely worried about his sudden disappearance from all radars. And in his high school it's not like they're patting him on the head about precisely this. The last time that he disappeared for much less time than now just to go to the beach, Yaga almost strangled him in his office. Now with this, he would have a real reason to kill him.
But it's not easy for him to abstract, especially when some murmurs begin to filter little by little through the space, like a cat stealthily walking through the feet of a crowd, a single noise forming and clinging to the walls on the other side and then misrepresenting something sufficiently feverish. Satoru considers for a moment going to take a look to see if everything was all right. Of course Yuuji is no damsel in distress, but it's always good to have someone on your side. Besides, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious to see what all that sudden fuss was about.
I should... besides I don't even know what I'm doing here waiting for, he thinks, as he rises from his seat to go out of the kitchen. Itadori had already taken long enough.
"And that brat in the back?" asks the stranger at the door with a tone of few friends, pointing in his direction. Yuuji doesn't even turn around, already knowing that the only one who can leave the kitchen is Satoru. "Don't tell me you've already quit your job and now you're babysitting."
"That's none of your business," Yuuji let out, with an inflection of slight irritation. "We've been over this many times before, uncle. Grandfather's last will was that the house not be put up for sale. It was a promise and I don't intend to break it just on a mere whim, this is all I have left of him. You should understand that."
This is where it all comes together once and for all for Satoru. So, this man was Itadori's atrabiliary uncle, the same one who used to call him almost daily in an insistent manner. In fact, if he look at him closely, he's like a replication of Itadori, only taller, stockier and with a myriad of tattoos on his body. For the rest, they even have the same hair color. And there certainly aren't too many people with pink hair out there. Not in a natural way, at least.
"Are you two dating or some shit like that?" the adult leans against the door frame, ignoring Itadori's earlier words and crosses his arms over his chest as he examines Satoru up and down, with a condescending attitude.
"No," Itadori rolls his eyes, making the eyeballs rotate under his eyelids. A movement that is apparently irritating to the other.
"And then why is he wearing my old clothes?" he came to say with a slight connotation to make things concrete, so Satoru immediately looks at the outfit without any restraint. When Yuuji returned with the clothes, he couldn't help but notice that it were very different from his usual outfits, but honestly, the last thing that he would have expected it was to be his troublesome uncle's clothes.
Gojo lets out a snort, but before Yuuji could respond, he immediately interjects himself in the middle of the conversation, as if he had known them all their lives.
"I have to admit that your clothes were rather useful in this case, but without a doubt the bonus is that they fit me quite well, certainly much better than they ever could have fit you, but you don't have to thank me," he blurts out, stepping close enough to drape one of his arms over Yuuji's shoulders. It was one of his movements more inconvenient. "And regarding the above we're actually working on it."
Itadori looks at him dumbfounded, his face wrinkled at the idea. The remarkable thing—that seems like a fucking joke, said with all its sadistic brilliance. His uncertainty has become a fragile certainty, increasingly firm and concrete since he was turned into a cat, but Satoru doesn't think much of it.
"I guess I couldn't help overhearing some of this cozy family talk. So, if it's not too much trouble, I'll ask you something," he continued in a certainly impertinent way, as he pointed his free hand at the man in the doorway, unable to help the tone of derision. "Why would someone like you be interested in arguing over something like this? Seriously, you look a lot better than someone who would be fighting over a house, especially one as hideous and outdated as this one."
It is an unconscious aggression. But Itadori seems indignant enough:
"How thoughtful of you, Satoru Gojo." He soon turned to him only to remove his arm from his shoulders. "But you'd better shut your mouth, otherwise, instead of having breakfast, you'll end up leaving with him."
His words took a second to take effect, and then Satoru had to stop himself from gasping. "Still though I'm trying to help you with this, are you really getting like this?" he finds himself asking, unable to help the sullen tone of voice. "I guess I'd better wait in the kitchen and keep my valuable opinion to myself only then," he adds, with all the sarcasm he can muster in his voice, but Itadori doesn't seem to notice.
"Honestly, I think it would be the best thing you could do at this point," Itadori acknowledges with a tone that brooks no reply and a raised face, indicating that he would keep the idea.
Satoru clicks his tongue and puffs out his cheeks as he rattles his mouth and gurgles with his lips, uttering as many melodramatic squeaks as he can. Yuuji's uncle is watching him from a mute silence due to the resolution and Satoru responds to it by frowning. The way his eyebrows meet at the bridge of his nose, the look changes, the iris darkens. Fabulous. Just great. Because he feels frustration building up on his abdomen as he reluctantly directs his steps towards the kitchen.
He really needs to learn to control his temper better and not throw a tantrum at everything.
When Itadori is finally back, Satoru looks at him reproachfully, but says nothing, causing his back to tense up. A moment later, Yuuji rubs his wrists and begins to roll his shoulders to ease his nerves.
"He's already gone, it turns out he was annoyed by the phone calls... Anyway, he'll most likely come back again, my uncle Sukuna is quite persistent," even if it was intended in profile, Gojo still remains impassive, with the head cocked to one side. But as soon as Yuuji sits down across from him like it's nothing, there is no point, it's best to start relaxing.
"Tell me something, Yuuji, is all this trouble about money? You said he wants to sell the house, didn't you?" Satoru asks, not knowing if he was being too indiscreet. Itadori barely gave a hesitant nod and that was all he needed to continue. "Well, if that's the case, I have plenty of money, not now of course, but I'm sure we could come to an agreement when I get my cards back." He pauses slightly, leaning back in his seat. "So he'll stop bothering you and you can stay quietly with the house."
Yuuji was silent for a moment and Satoru feels that the verbal scale has gone too far. He was trying to be considerate for once, but it seemed that hadn't worked at all. A few seconds passed without words, enough for Itadori to think about how to respond to this.
"I appreciate it, but that's not the case, he has his own house and a good job, money is the least of it. He's just doing it to be annoying," he finally said, in a voice laden with ambivalence that is like a litany, while shaking his head and accompanying the movement with his right hand, as if he were shooing away ghosts. "Even if I sold the house and gave him some of the money, he'd manage to find any other excuse and keep coming back. He's just upset because Grandpa left me most of the assets in his will when I didn't even ask for it. My uncle thinks everything belongs to him, but I don't care about that, I just don't want the house to disappear."
Gojo tried to stifle a slight nasal outburst, which escaped him anyway as he folded his arms. Frankly, that all seems like the whim of a mocking soul; it seemed highly unlikely that he would overcome his perplexity.
"Agh, good thing that my family members are detached enough that I don't have to deal with these kinds of problems," he finds himself saying, as he realizes he has raised his tone of voice, lending a lighter touch to the conversation. "By the way, I really don't think the house is hideous, I was just saying that to see if that would change his mind."
"Don't worry about it, I was a little tense at the time as well," he replied, without looking up, though the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.
Finally, when the time comes for Itadori shows him the way to the exit door, Satoru feels his pulse quicken, because he still doesn't feel ready to leave him.
First they had shared breakfast in silence, Satoru couldn't take his eyes off Yuuji and when he looked back, he smiled softly at him. Once they finished eating, they chatted some more and Itadori made sure he had a place to go (if the principal had not yet expelled him from the high school because of this, he definitely had it) and even gave him money for the trip. Satoru promised to pay it all back and Itadori just smiles as he gives Gojo his number. So he can call him when he has a phone. Just for this, of course.
In spite of the fact that the word "no" can be a complicated veredict for him to digest, Satoru decides to listen this time. Yuuji's "not now" may drag on indefinitely, but Gojo can wait and will do it masterfully. He has more than enough tenacity to do it, even if something twists inside him every time Itadori gets close enough to him.
Before leaving, Itadori observes Gojo with a serious look, examines him from head to toe while crossing his arms over his chest and sighs with eager propensity. This was exactly the reaction Satoru had been waiting for, after all, he is sufficiently aware that he is handsome.
"I guess I should have asked you earlier, but you wouldn't happen to have some sunglasses lying around by any chance?" he looked back for a moment, then looked at Yuuji, stretching his lower eyelids slightly with his fingers. "My eyes have always been sensitive, but now that I've been in a cat's body for so many days, they're stinging more than usual. If I go out like this, the sun will burn my retinas."
Yuuji looked at him strangely, now arching both eyebrows as if the implications were obvious.
"Uhm, there are some, but they were my grandfather's..."
"That doesn't matter," Satoru blurts out, a pleased smile on his face. This in itself was no lie, his eyes had been burning since he woke up in the morning, but any pretext he could use to stay in the place a little longer, he would take.