Chapter Text
Allura stepped out onto the streets of Saitama Prefecture, surrounded by tall buildings and a flood of people. She adjusted the strap of the insulated bag that bounced on her hip as she walked.
The air grew warmer each day and, as she approached the campus of Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School, the crowd thinned and the air lost the slight chemical tinge of the city and took on a greener smell.
She had been surprised the first time she visited, much to Gojo's delight. It was far more than just a high school for aspiring sorcerers. Gojo, along with many other sorcerers, lived on campus as well.
Her steps echoed faintly on the stone steps as she passed under the torii gate that led on campus. The buildings were more reminiscent of a Buddhist or Shinto shrine than Megumi's old middle school had been.
The buildings were nestled among towering cypress and maple trees that made it feel separate from the rest of humanity.
Allura passed through the barrier that was invisible to ordinary humans that was in place to keep curses out.
A warm breeze that carried the first hints of summer heat ruffled the trees and blew Allura's hair to the side. She smiled, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the refreshing smell of the greenery that seemed ready to swallow the buildings.
The shoji door slid open with a soft sound, revealing an empty common room. It was usually empty when she came to drop off dinner.
Allura had met the upperclassmen briefly when Megumi first started. Inumaki, whose technique meant that he only spoke in riceball ingredients. She found that charming and vowed to herself to figure out what the individual words meant; the way his classmates reacted said they had to have some meaning rather than just being random words.
Maki, who made fun of Megumi when she learned that Allura was his mother.
“Oh my god, you have your mom bringing you dinner?!” She held her sides like she was going to just from laughter.
“I bring food for Gojo as well...” Allura muttered in his defense. It didn't help. Maki just laughed louder.
Megumi's face flushed, and even though his expression didn't change, the way he clenched his fists at his side betrayed his annoyance.
Allura bit her lip, worried that Megumi would suddenly decide against letting her bring him dinner. She wanted to be helpful, to take one thing off his shoulders that he wouldn't have to worry about. She didn't want it to be something he was ridiculed for.
She brightened suddenly as an idea occurred to her, snapping her fingers and drawing Maki's attention.
“Think of me as cursed Uber Eats. I had to trade Gojo meals to be allowed to come onto campus. I'll give you my phone number and I can pick up food for you guys as well!”
Maki's laughter cut off and she tilted her head, cupping her chin thoughtfully. After a moment she nodded her head once decisively.
“You know what? Works for me. I can cook for myself just fine. But being able to order a pizza every once in a while could be convenient.”
Inumaki nodded, adding, “Bonito flakes” in a thoughtful tone. Allura took that to mean that he thought it was a good idea too.
Allura handed her number out to the three upperclassmen, the last of whom she was surprised to find out was an actual panda. Mostly. Because he could talk.
The boy that Megumi had looked up to so much, Yuta Okkotsu, was apparently spending some time abroad.
The offer to bring takeout on campus seemed to be enough to make the upperclassmen back down. Maki took her up on the offer once and seemed satisfied when Allura showed up with the pizza Maki had requested.
She settled into a rhythm, bringing bento boxes by most days. Megumi settled into his dorm room easily. He was the only freshman, for now. Apparently there was a girl in a more rural town that was seeking admission.
Gojo was sparse with the details about her. Allura was fairly certain the information was probably buried in the stacks of paperwork on his desk that he hadn't gotten around to yet.
Allura knocked softly on Megumi's door.
“It's open,” he called through the door, keeping his voice even to hide his mild surprise. Was it Gojo, finally? He glanced at the small clock on his desk and his eyebrows rose a bit. It was later than he realized. Probably his mother with dinner again.
Allura swung it open to find Megumi at his desk, diligently taking notes while reading through a book that was yellow with age.
Allura set her bag down on the little table that served as his dining table.
“I brought karaage today. With rice, pickled vegetables and miso soup.”
She set the containers on the table, another set in the bag for Gojo. Megumi grunted in acknowledgement but didn't stop reading.
“Is Gojo in his office?”
Megumi's shoulders stiffened and his grip on his pencil tightened until his knuckles were white.
“How the hell should I know?” Megumi snapped quietly.
“Most people just say ‘I don't know,’” Allura's voice was soft with quiet amusement. He wasn't angry with her though she wondered what Gojo had done today to piss him off.
“Tch,” Megumi forced himself to take a slow breath in and out. Somehow her calm reply just pissed him off more. It was infuriating. But it was his idiot sensei that pissed him off.
“Yesterday. He said I’d be going on my first mission today.”
His words came out clipped, forced through clenched teeth. He heard his pencil creak and tossed it on his desk with a sigh.
“And then he didn't even show up for training today! He sent Ichiji to tell me to run drills!”
He said Ichiji’s name like it was a personal offense to him. The man was technically his superior, having graduated just a year after Gojo. But he seemed to be a noncombatant, something Megumi struggled to genuinely respect.
“So he's probably not in his office then.”
Allura zipped the bag shut and set it on the ground.
“Sucks for him. Karaage is much better when it's fresh.”
Megumi snorted at that. After living on campus at Jujutsu High for a month now, Megumi had become accustomed to everyone deferring to Gojo and tiptoeing around his eccentricities.
His mother never did though. It was as entertaining as it was infuriating.
He shoved his chair back from his desk and finally turned to look at her, and the meal she had set out on the table.
A full, traditional meal. He opened his mouth to tell her it was too much and shut it when his stomach rumbled quietly. He would eat it all. And enjoy it, though he would never tell her that.
He had cooked for himself a couple of times but the simple meals he could make for himself only made him appreciate his mother's cooking more. It was annoying.
He didn't want to rely on her. Or anyone. But having her cook and bring him meals meant he had more time for studying and training.
It was convenient. He would be foolish to pass up on the convenience. It had nothing to do with the taste, or so he told himself. Admitting he liked the food felt too soft.
He took a seat on the floor cushion and opened the lid. The savory smell of the fried chicken and sauces immediately hit his nose. His stomach grumbled loud enough to be embarrassing. He scowled at Allura through his bangs when she laughed.
Allura waved her hand and covered her mouth with the other.
“It's fine! I'm glad you're hungry.” The smile was evident in her tone even though she tried to hide it.
Megumi dug into the food without a word. Allura sighed quietly. He didn't seem to be in the mood to talk today. And if Gojo had promised him his first mission and then failed to even show up for training...yeah, he would be in a crappy mood.
“Well, I won't bother you. I'm gonna go drop off Gojo's meal. I'll see you tomorrow.”
Megumi watched her pick up the bag. He wanted to tell her she wasn't a bother. He actually didn't mind when she just stayed and hung out with him. She never pressured him to to talk. She never picked incessantly at his boundaries (unlike a certain absent mentor).
But he would never say it out loud. And he couldn't stand the idea that she might pity him just because Gojo flaked out. The mission would come eventually. As long as there were people in the world, there would be curses. And as long as there were curses, there would be missions. He could be patient.
Allura closed the door quietly behind her and made her way down the hall. Should she have stayed? Megumi was probably upset about Gojo not following through with the mission. Would it have come across as pity? He would probably interpret it that way even if she didn't mean it.
Her thoughts were interrupted when the shoji door banged open. Gojo stepped in wearing his usual mild smile and white bandages covering his eyes.
“Allura! Perfect timing!”
Gojo covered the distance between them quickly and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, steering her back towards Megumi's room.
“Megumi~!” He called out in a singsong voice, cupping his free hand around his mouth, “It's go time! Don't keep me waiting!”
Allura didn't bother resisting him. It was pointless. If she didn't go along with him, he would just pout and end up getting his way regardless. Whatever it was he wanted this time, anyway.
“Oh! Are you taking Megumi on his first mission? He was just telling me about it.”
“Yup!” Gojo stuck his lip out and pretended to wipe a tear away, “They grow up so fast, don't they?”
Megumi stepped out of his room, scowling at Gojo.
Gojo let go of Allura and slung his arm around Megumi instead. Megumi stiffened immediately.
“There he is! He looks so grown up in his little uniform!” Gojo cooed. He released Megumi just to pinch his cheeks.
Megumi growled and swatted his hands away, “Get off me! Quit touching me!”
Gojo ruffled his hair with enough force to make Megumi stumble half a step. He ducked away only to have Gojo snag him around the shoulders again.
“Quick, Allura! Take a picture! Your boy is about to go on his very first mission!”
Allura was happy to oblige, taking her phone out and snapping a quick picture while Megumi protested.
“Knock it off! Quit it! Can you take this seriously? It's not my first day of kindergarten.”
Megumi swatted at Gojo's hands when he tried to pinch his cheek again. He ducked out of his grip again and moved quickly towards the door, putting his mother between him and Gojo.
Allura looked at the one picture she managed to capture—Megumi looking supremely annoyed and Gojo with his calm and confident smile. Gojo looked down at the picture.
“Aw, he's so adorable! Like a grumpy alley cat!”
“Will you shut up!” Megumi shouted.
Gojo tutted, “For shame, Megumi! That's no way to talk to your beloved sensei!”
Megumi scoffed and stalked towards the door.
“What's the mission, anyway?”
Gojo swept Allura towards the door after Megumi. She opened her mouth to protest but Gojo cut her off.
“Don't you want to see your little boy go on his first mission?” He said, ignoring Megumi's question.
“I don't need a damn audience!” Megumi snapped.
“I really don't have to go...”
“Nonsense! You've got my dinner, don't you?”
He lifted the strap of the bag and let it drop.
“Carry it yourself!” Megumi snapped, stomping out of the dorm. Ichiji waited in a sleek black car parked in front of the building. “And you didn't answer my question!”
Ichiji climbed out of the car in an awkward scramble and opened the rear door on the passenger side. Gojo shoved Megumi towards the open door.
“What question?” Gojo said, pretending he hadn't heard. Of course he had. But it was just too much fun to see Megumi's stoic facade crumble.
Megumi growled and started to repeat the question, only for Gojo to shut the door in his face.
“Sorry! Can't hear you! It'll have to wait!”
He shoved Allura into the passenger seat next and climbed in next to Megumi.
“I don't see why Mom has to come.”
Megumi buckled himself in and sat with his arms crossed over his chest. It was a bigger reaction than Gojo normally saw from him—which is exactly why he had dragged Allura along.
Plus, she could stand to see the kid in action. Gojo wanted her there to see the expression on his face when he revealed the mission. It was sure to be priceless.
“So what is the mission?” Megumi asked again as the car pulled out of the campus and drove into the city.
Satoru sat with his hands behind his head, looking absurdly relaxed. With the bandages covering his eyes, it was impossible to tell if his eyes were even open. Especially when he took several long seconds to answer.
“You'll see when you get there.”
Megumi huffed in annoyance.
“Isn't there supposed to be a mission brief? Missions usually have scouting reports so sorcerers aren't going in blind.”
Gojo hummed flatly, “Yeah. Usually. But sometimes it's more fun to go in blind. You gotta live a little!”
Megumi's scowl deepened, “I'm beginning to think you don't even know what the mission is.”
Gojo clutched his chest dramatically, “Allura! Do you hear the way your son is talking to his beloved teacher?! I slave away in meetings all day just to give him this golden opportunity and he calls me irresponsible! Do something!”
Allura met his blindfolded gaze in the rearview mirror and smiled.
“Sorry, Gojo. I don't have any more control over him than you do. You're a big boy. You handle him, Gojo-sensei.”
There was a teasing lilt to the way she said his name that made him grin.
“At least someone has faith in me. Unlike you,” Gojo glared at Megumi and crossed his arms over his chest childishly, “Ungrateful brat!”
Allura fought to keep the smile off her face and failed miserably. Looking into the rearview mirror, the two of them were like mirrors of each other. Megumi's arms were crossed over his chest as he looked pointedly out of the window to avoid Gojo's gaze. Gojo huffed dramatically and turned away from Megumi, making him look like a giant baby.
“My first mission and I don't even get a briefing,” Megumi muttered.
Allura bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. They both sounded ridiculous.
The car came to a stop in the rundown outskirts of Tokyo in front of a building that was so ruined they couldn't tell what it had originally been.
Allura looked out the window. The cursed energy was relatively dense but didn't feel particularly strong.
Something flitted by her window, starling her back. Too big to be an insect but too erratic to be a bird...
“Flyheads,” Megumi's tone was flat, disinterested. “There's never just one. They swarm. They're low level, rarely stronger than Grade 4.”
Gojo hummed in acknowledgement and climbed out of the car. Ichiji popped the trunk and Gojo moved to the back of the vehicle.
Allura stepped out cautiously, slinging the bag of food around her shoulders again. Just as Megumi said, the more she looked around, the more of the creatures she saw flying around.
They were about the size of large rats, with wings like a fly. They had multiple limbs though some had more than others; the limbs ended in human-like hands, giving them an eerie appearance, especially when they landed.
“So, is this the mission? Just to clear them out?”
Megumi rolled his shoulders in preparation, his hands already forming the sign for Divine Dogs.
“Not quite,” Gojo said, lifting the lid off the trunk. The trunk was filled with dozens of little cages. Gojo pulled a stack of seals out of his pocket.
“The school keeps a stock of cursed spirits on hand for training purposes. It needs to be restocked from time to time. So your mission...” Gojo paused for dramatic effect and pulled one of the cages out of the trunk, holding it like a prize in a gameshow.
“Is to catch 100 of these flyheads for the school!” Gojo gestured to the cage with a flourish, looking very much like a gameshow host.
Megumi's shoulders sagged and he gave Gojo a deadpan look.
“You want me to catch the curses.” He said flatly.
“Yup!”
Megumi dragged a hand down his face.
“I'm doing your work, aren't I?”
Gojo's grin widened and sounded almost proud when he replied with another “yup.”
Megumi wilted even further.
“It's a great first mission, right?! Assigned to a special grade sorcerer and lovingly passed down to his beloved student!” Gojo declared proudly. He sniffed dramatically and wiped at a tear that definitely wasn't there, “You'll do great, kid!”
Megumi sighed and then straightened. It was, at least, an official mission. Probably. It was now, even if Megumi thought it sounded dubious at best. Entirely made up for good entertainment at worst.
“So all I have to do is catch them?”
Gojo nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! There are 100 cages. I expect them all to be filled!”
Megumi deflated again. One hundred. This was going to be a pain in the ass.
Gojo waved Allura over to one of the crumbling walls while Megumi unloaded the cages from the trunk.
“Now. How about that dinner!” Gojo eyed the bag at her waist and wiggled his fingers in anticipation.
Allura set the bag on the ground and set the containers out on the wall beside her.
“Soup, rice, pickled vegetables and karaage.”
Gojo made grabby motions with his hands and snatched the container with the fried chicken from her hands.
“Tell me you made the sauces...” He popped the lid off as he flopped down on the wall like it was a luxury sofa.
“Ah! You did! And the chicken is still warm!” He dunked a piece of chicken into a pot of spicy red sauce and then into a darker, sweet sauce and popped it in his mouth.
“Delicious as usual! I knew I was right to bring you along!” His words came out garbled as he spoke with his mouth full.
Allura shook her head in mild exasperation. Megumi never spoke with his mouth full. She watched Gojo shove another piece in, barely giving himself enough time to swallow. She wondered briefly if he had even had time to eat if his morning had been filled with meetings.
Her attention was drawn back to Megumi as he summoned the Divine Dogs, the black and white beasts congealing from the shadows. They dashed off ahead of Megumi, into a thick swarm of the flying curses. Megumi followed behind, already reaching for one of the curses that flitted by his head.
The white dog closed its mouth around one of the fly heads and it burst into a cloud of residual cursed energy. Allura saw a subtle glow around Megumi's hands as he snatched another curse from the air, only for it to burst into a cloud of energy as well.
Megumi stared at his hands with a look of dismay. He tried again, being a little bit more careful when he grabbed the curse. But this one burst as well.
His dogs weren't having any better luck. Both of them were surrounded by clouds of cursed energy from exorcised fly heads and Allura watched the black dog swallow one whole.
“He's gonna have to be more careful than that,” Gojo muttered, slurping from the container of soup as he watched Megumi.
“Grade 4. They're weaker. He's using too much force if he's trying to catch them, right?” Allura propped her elbow on her knee and rested her chin in her hand, watching Megumi thoughtfully.
Megumi ground his teeth. This was more annoying than he expected. The damn curses burst every time he touched them. He called the dogs back to his side and summoned his toads instead.
Their thick, sticky tongues whipped out, only for the curses to burst on contact. He groaned with frustration.
Gojo clicked his chopsticks sharply. He spoke through a mouthful of pickled radish, “Try harder, young grasshopper!”
The motion reminded Megumi of old kungfu movies where the Master always demonstrated speed by catching a fly with chopsticks, usually holding them by the wings.
A fly head darted past his face and snatched it by the wings, dropping the cursed energy reinforcement on his hands. To his delight, the curse didn't instantly burst. He shoved it in a cage and slapped a seal over the door.
“One down, 99 to go,” he muttered to himself. He communicated the strategy to the Divine Dogs through their bonds and the pair dashed off, returning seconds later with a curse caught by the wings.
The collection went smoothly after that. He dismissed the toads to conserve his energy.
Allura watched with a slow smile forming on her face. She glanced sideways at Satoru who dumped the remainder of the sauces on his rice and scooped it into his mouth, humming contentedly. She caught a faint melody but didn't recognize it.
“This mission isn't nearly as pointless as Megumi thought, is it?”
Gojo scoffed, “Of course not! It's about control. Not every mission is about flashy technique and strength.”
He scooped the rest of the rice into his mouth and dropped the empty container into the bag.
“It's definitely annoying though. Better him than me having to do it.”
Allura snickered quietly. It was so much like him to pawn off tedious work.
“And he hasn't even learned about the best part of the mission.” The devious grin on his face said it was anything but the best part.
Allura raised an eyebrow and took the bait, “Oh? And what's the best part?”
“Each of those curses has to be registered for the barrier around the school.”
Allura's face stilled as she thought.
“Registered...” Her eyebrows rose and she gave him a playfully scandalized look.
“It's not the catching you didn't want to do. You're using Megumi to do the paperwork!”
Gojo grinned, completely unashamed, “Kid’s gotta learn some time. It's the less glamorous part of being a sorcerer.”
Allura snorted, “Yeah, and the part you avoid like the plague.”
“I have far more important things to do than paperwork,” he sneered when he said the word, like it personally offended him.
Allura nodded, tilting her head thoughtfully.
“A lot of it does seem tedious. Have you never considered digitizing?”
Gojo rolled his eyes. Or at least, she thought he did; it was difficult to tell with his eyes covered.
“Please. Those old farts on the council wouldn't know what to do with a computer. Pretty sure they don't see a difference between these fly heads and a laptop.”
Allura chuckled though she wasn't entirely surprised. She didn't know much about the council. Megumi seemed to hold them in high regard while Gojo mostly viewed them as an obstacle.
Megumi flipped the door shut on the final cage and sealed it with a talisman. He wiped the sweat from his forehead on his sleeve and trotted over to where Gojo and Allura were chatting.
“Finally done. Filled all the cages.”
Gojo clapped his hands and stood, “Great! I'll load them in the car and you can exorcise the rest!”
Megumi nodded sharply and Allura would have sworn there was the smallest smile on his face.
He turned on his heel and dashed off into the ruins, the Divine Dogs following closely behind. Finally, he could do the work of a real sorcerer.
“You didn't tell him about the paperwork,” Allura noted, helping to load the little cages into the car.
The creatures slammed themselves against the cages when Gojo approached but took no notice of Allura. To them, she was no different than a tree or park bench. No cursed energy.
“Of course not! I'll spoil his fun later. Wait until he's feeling all full of himself to break the news.”
Allura nudged him playfully with her elbow, “Oh? So you're the only one allowed to have an ego, then?”
Gojo clutched his side dramatically as if her elbow had actually wounded him, “I can't believe you think so little of me!”
“Little is that last word I would use to describe your ego,” she quipped back.
Damn, she was quick. He grinned, thoroughly enjoying himself. A full stomach, a few jokes and Megumi's misery to look forward to later.
“Hey! It's the privilege that comes with being the strongest!”
Allura rolled her eyes, “Self-proclaimed strongest.”
Gojo scoffed dramatically, leaning against the car and watching her load the last of the curses.
“It's earned! What? Do you want to challenge me for the title? I'll happily put you through one of these walls again, princess.” The nickname dripped with playful condescension.
“No, no. You can have the title. I have no use for such things. They bring far too much trouble.”
Allura closed the lid of the trunk with a thump. Gojo snorted.
“Damn right,” Gojo grinned, showing more teeth than usual. He couldn't resist teasing her more, “You're just afraid of being thrown through a wall again. If you ever want a rematch with the strongest, all you have to do is ask.”
Allura chuckled when he flexed obnoxiously.
“I'll pass. Despite what others may assert, I am not actually a masochist,” she said dryly, then added playfully, “And your technique is as annoying to fight as you are. It suits you really.”
“Hey! I am not annoying! It's not my fault you can't appreciate my sophisticated sense of humor!” Gojo shoved off the side of the car, “I oughta make you pay for that!”
He smiled menacingly but Allura laughed when he wiggled his fingers.
“What are you going to do, tickle me to death?” She backed away when he stepped closer.
“Maybe. Are you ticklish, princess?” His voice was low and almost threatening—except what he was threatening was just too ridiculous for her to do anything but laugh.
“I hope you know you're only proving my point!”
Gojo took another step forward and was about to lunge at her when Megumi came trotting out from the ruins.
“Got them all!”
Megumi glanced between his mother and Gojo, who was hunched over like he was about to pounce on her. And his mother was...laughing?
He shook his head. Better not to ask. It was probably just Gojo being Gojo. Though he couldn't understand why his mother encouraged him.
By the time they rolled back through the school gates, the moon was a pale yellow coin tangled in the branches of the tall cedars. Shadows draped the walkways in crooked stripes.
Gojo led them straight past the dorms toward the faculty offices, humming to himself like this was a fun field trip. Megumi's scowl deepened when he recognized the damn Pokemon theme song.
Allura caught wisps of lyrics this time. Something about being the very best? Was he actually singing a song about himself? His ego was threatening to eclipse the moon.
Megumi had a feeling the mission wasn't quite finished and he dreaded to think what more Gojo had in store for him.
Sure enough, inside Gojo’s cluttered office, a stack of forms was waiting on his desk like a mini mountain range. He plopped it in Megumi’s arms with a flourish.
“Behold! The most fearsome cursed tool of all—paperwork.”
Megumi’s eye twitched, but his expression smoothed out just as quickly. He squared his shoulders and held the stack like it wasn’t heavier than his own patience.
“All curses captured for the barrier must be registered,” he said evenly, parroting the rulebook like he’d memorized it. “It’s important.”
Gojo leaned back in his chair, grinning. “See, Allura? He loves it. Bureaucracy is his kink.”
Allura smothered a laugh behind her hand. Megumi ignored both of them. He turned on his heel, his jaw set like this was a duel he could win with sheer dignity. He closed the door a bit harder than necessary. Let the two idiots who pretended to be adults laugh while he did all the work.
Gojo watched the door for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “Oh, almost forgot. I picked something up for you.”
He reached under the desk and dropped a sleek handbag on the table in front of Allura like it was contraband. The polished leather gleamed under the fluorescent light, the designer logo catching her eye.
Allura lifted the logo and examined the bag with a raised eyebrow.
“...a bag? Are the C’s meant to be a logo or a monogram of some sort?”
Gojo smirked, resting his elbows on the desk. She didn’t even recognize the brand. Gold.
“It’s a Chanel bag! I swung by the mall for new bandages and somehow ended up with three shirts and a pair of pants. Which—” he leaned forward, “—you didn’t even notice! Rude!”
Allura looked up from the bag, blank.
“You wanted me to notice a pair of pants that are the same color as usual, and a shirt covered by your uniform jacket?”
“Would it kill you to notice?!” Gojo flopped back, draping an arm over his forehead. “Even after I thought of you and got you that bag! Do you know how much that bag cost? Over a million yen!”
“You bought this for me? Why?”
Gojo nearly giggled. Perfectly dry. He’d seen a woman cry when her boyfriend bought her the same bag. That reaction he could predict. But Allura? No telling. That was worth every yen.
“I wanted to see what you’d give me for it. A trade. Barter. Whatever it is you do on your planet.”
Allura opened her mouth to say she hadn’t really bartered back home, then shut it again. A game then. Of course.
“Come on! It’s a Chanel! Over a million yen! Women kill for those!”
“Right. A million yen.” Her tone was clipped, clinical. “About a quarter of the median household income in Japan. On a bag.”
“Yes! Valuable!” Gojo leaned forward eagerly.
“But in barter, value is subjective. It’s not about a price tag—it’s about what the other person thinks it’s worth.”
“Alright. But it’s a good bag, right?”
She examined it. The leather was soft, the gold chains heavy and smooth.
“Well made. High quality materials.”
“I sense a but…”
She smiled. “But I don’t carry a bag. And I already have the insulated one for food. I have no use for this. And if I can’t use it, it has no value to me.”
Gojo pouted, arms folded. Allura snorted softly. He looked ready to sulk if she refused to trade at all.
“Every woman carries a purse!” he whined.
“Satoru, you should know by now I’m nothing like every other woman.”
“Of course you’re not, but—come on! You don’t even have pockets! Surely you can think of something. It can’t have zero value!”
She sighed. “I suppose I could find something to put in it. Megumi will be running more missions. I could use it for medical supplies.”
Gojo brightened instantly. A Chanel bag turned into a sorcerer’s first-aid kit? Only Allura.
He folded his arms again. “So. What’ll you give me for it?”
She snapped the bag shut with a metallic click. “No idea.”
Sliding the strap over her shoulder, she added with a smile, “But I’ll think of something, since you thought of me.”
“Then all that about it being useless…” he prompted.
Her smile sharpened. “All part of the bargaining process. The fun is in deciding who got the better end of the deal. A bag is a bag—no matter how extravagant you were to waste a million yen on it.”
Gojo chuckled. “Ah, but for me? It’s already worth it. The entertainment alone.”
“Then maybe I don’t need to trade at all. If the entertainment is enough.”
“That’s not how it works! You’re supposed to give me something!”
“It can work like that. Experience has value too. Surely you know that.” She turned toward the door.
“I take it back! This isn’t a fair trade!”
Her shoulders shook with silent laughter. “I can always give it back.” The teasing lilt was obvious now.
She let him sputter for a few seconds before adding, “But it’ll be more fun to think of something. I’ll see you tomorrow, Satoru.”
The door shut behind her before he could form a reply. He still couldn't predict how she would react. Couldn't even guess what she might come up with as a trade.
He leaned back in his office chair with his hands behind his head, “Best million yen I ever wasted.”
Allura returned the next day with bento boxes filled with yakisoba and her new purse filled with medical supplies. Hopefully she would never need anything in it but she had faced a curse herself and knew better.
Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.
She was pleasantly surprised to see Gojo in his office, working through some of the papers on his desk. He had his hand bunched in his hair, the bandages he usually used to cover his eyes pushed up haphazardly.
“You look like you're in pain,” Allura spoke with quiet amusement.
Gojo slumped, letting his head fall to the desk with a thump.
“I'm done for, Allura. It's not curses that will be my end. I'll be buried by a mountain of paperwork.”
Allura chuckled, “Well don't die yet. The yakisoba will get cold.”
She set the container in front of him. He took a deep breath, filled with the savory smell of the noodles.
“Of course you're worried about the precious noodles. Can't have your hard work going to waste. Nevermind that I'm wasting away, a slave to bureaucracy!” He whined dramatically.
He heaved himself off the desk like he was fighting gravity itself. Gojo froze for a fraction of a second when he felt Allura's hand on his head. Two brief pats.
“There, there,” she said in that clipped tone she took he was learning to recognize as her brand of humor, “You'll live. If you eat the noodles.”
He broke his chopsticks with a sigh and opened the container.
“At least it's not ginger,” he slurped a large mouthful of noodles, his words coming out muffled, “That might’ve finished me off.”
Allura rolled her eyes, “It's not as if you have a ginger allergy.”
“I might develop one. You never know,” he muttered through another mouthful. He always ate like he was half starved. Which, given his schedule, probably wasn't far from the truth.
Allura heaved a long suffering sigh.
“Oh! I nearly forgot. I figured out what to repay you with. For the bag.” She patted the bag resting against her left hip.
Gojo straightened, pausing with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth.
Allura dropped a black scrap of cloth in front of him. He set the chopsticks down and picked up the cloth between his thumb and forefinger, like she had dropped something radioactive in front of him.
“This?” He waved it with a mocking gesture, “This is what you came up with to trade for a million yen Chanel bag?”
Allura sat neatly in the chair on the other side of his desk and nodded.
“Yup. A blindfold. You wear those bandages every day, don’t you? The bag’s practical for me, this is practical for you.”
Gojo grumbled about name brands and leather, but couldn’t argue.
“Besides,” she added, “slipping this on is faster than wrapping your head three times.”
He hated that she was right — and that she’d clearly put more thought into it than he had when he bought the damn bag.
He unwound the bandages reluctantly and dropped them in the trash next to his desk. The blindfold slipped on easily, reducing the visual noise of the world to just the flow of cursed energy he could perceive with Six Eyes. The fabric was soft, with a slight give. He ran his fingers through his hair, arranging it into his signature tuft.
“Maybe it's a little easier.”
Allura nodded, “Much faster. Doesn't look half bad either.”
She took out her phone and snapped a picture before he could object. He took the phone and lifted the edge of the blindfold to study the picture.
The black wasn't bad. Not that he would say that.
“Black is so boring,” he lamented, “Is that how you see me, Allura? As just a full, boring guy?”
Allura rolled her eyes. He was just trying to find something to complain about.
“It was either black or hot pink.”
Gojo lifted the edge of the blindfold further, looking at her with one startlingly blue eye, “Are you saying I couldn't pull off hot pink? I would rock a hot pink blindfold. Or lime green. Purple. Any color, really.”
Allura snorted at the ridiculous boast.
“Plus,” she dragged the word out with a teasing lilt, “You won't have to stop by the mall and dump another million yen on something ridiculous.”
Gojo laughed and snatched up his chopsticks and dug back into the noodles.
“That's what you think, Ms Wet Blanket,” he shoved more noodles into his mouth but actually swallowed before talking this time, “You think I'm going to let a little scrap of cloth spoil my fun?”
Allura only shook her head. However absurd his next surprise was, she couldn’t help but look forward to it.