Three Years – Chapter Three

Kazuo sat in the bustling coffee shop, stirring his coffee while consulting the menu. He checked his phone again. Twenty minutes had passed since he reminded Utahime to arrive on time. She and Gojo were late as of seven minutes ago. If they were going to be consistent with their tardiness, he assumed they’d arrive in fifteen to thirty minutes, with Utahime blaming Gojo, and Gojo acting sweet to disarm her.

Kazuo massaged his temples to alleviate his rising headache.

He wasn’t sure he could sit through another brunch with them.

“Hey, old man.”

He glanced over his shoulder with a start. Shoko raised her hand in a curt wave and sat next to him. Without so much as a proper greeting, she snatched the menu from him and began deliberating her choices aloud. Plain brewed coffee or sugar-free hot chocolate? Had he tried their English breakfast before?

Well, Kazuo thought as he watched her. At least Shoko was here.

“Did they say why they want to meet?” Kazuo asked once she made up her mind. “Weren’t you just with them to celebrate Gojo’s birthday?”

Shoko flipped the menu over and leaned back on her chair with a sigh. Christmas carols blared from the speakers, and couples’ laughter reverberated from the other end of the café. They chose this place because it was rarely crowded, and Gojo loved their pastries. It was just their luck that half the couples in Kyoto thought the same thing on the same morning.

“Maybe they just want to spend time with you?” Shoko suggested with a smile.

“They’re not my kids, for crying out loud.”

“Utahime-senpai seems eager for your approval, nonetheless.”

Kazuo shifted on his seat and stirred his coffee, unsure how to respond to that prompt. Shoko wasn’t the first to make that comment. Although he and Utahime bickered and competed with one another growing up, she never seemed to shake off the desire to gain his approval. It wasn’t pats on the back and encouraging words she was after, either. She longed to be acknowledged for her work in the clan, to be seen as a powerful sorceress whom the rest of the Iori could lean on. As heir to their family’s legacy, it fell on Kazuo to provide that acknowledgment, and he wasn’t always willing to give it.

A part of it was childishness. Why indulge his stubborn little sister? The other part of it was caution. The last thing he wanted was for Utahime to be haughty or for the power to get to her head. She was getting stronger with each new tamed curse he retrieved for Gakuganji, and with her affiliation with Gojo, it would be easy for her to grow careless. To lose the virtues their parents worked hard to instil in them so that they did not rot like most sorcerers eventually did.

How could Kazuo tell her?

It wasn’t just the political repercussions of her relationship with Gojo that kept him up at night. She worried that Gojo might rot, too, and he’d take her down with him.

A waitress arrived with food and drinks for them. Kazuo watched in a daze as the woman organized their table and asked if they needed anything else. Shoko shook her head but insisted on keeping the menu for their friends. Once the waitress was gone, Shoko raised her eyebrows at Kazuo, asking wordlessly if he was alright.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t slept well for weeks now. The entire thing with the Sasaki is getting to me,” he said.

“Do you want me to prescribe sleeping aids? I know holistic cures if you’re not big on pharmaceutical products.”

“You’re not trying to experiment on me, are you?”

“Will lightning strike me if I accidentally poison a priest?”

“Not lightning, but a hefty medical bill and sanctions from Jujutsu High.”

She chewed on a piece of cinnamon stick thoughtfully. “I suppose it would be embarrassing if you defecated in the middle of a public ritual.”

Kazuo kicked the leg of her chair enough that it turned her halfway to the left. Shoko laughed with one side of her mouth closed to keep the cinnamon stick in place.  Auburn powder rained on her blouse, but she didn’t notice.

“What in the world are you even working on?” he asked.

Shoko righted her chair and offered him the other half of the cinnamon stick. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Jujutsu High’s got me neck-deep in paperwork. I haven’t had time for experiments lately.”

He brushed her hair over her shoulder to see her face better. Fatigue-ringed eyes widened at his close inspection. He thought that Shoko, when properly flustered, did look as fragile as Utahime painted her to be. “And you?” he asked. “When was the last time you slept properly?”

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling as she considered this. “I did fall asleep next to the cadaver I was studying a few days ago.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Yaga and Ijichi were horrified for no reason.”

“Was it at least a good sleep?”

“Sure. Dead bodies are peaceful bedmates.”

He almost asked the question that had been careening in his brain for a while now: had she ever imagined Suguru Getouo on her autopsy table? After all, they were coming together to hunt down her first love. On more than one occasion, Utahime had asked him to see if Shoko was doing alright. It seemed to Utahime that Kazuo might be the type Shoko would trust, him being an Iori and a priest at that.

Given the state of her health and the festive spirit in Kyoto, he decided now was not the time to broach the matter. He worried about Shoko, but he trusted her to make responsible choices.

Kazuo was about to change the topic when Shoko’s arm shot up in the air. He followed her line of sight and saw Utahime and Gojo wading through the tables and passing customers. Although they kept their distance in public, Gojo’s protectiveness gave them away. Even the slightest hint of a man invading Utahime’s personal space in this crowded cafe triggered him. He would thrust his arm out and stare down both customers and servers. No male—not even the teenage boy who passed in front of Utahime—was safe from this hulking figure with icy blue eyes.

Kazuo wasn’t sure how much of this was an ongoing gag between the couple. A lot of times, Gojo did these things simply to rile her up, to see how much she could endure before exploding in public.

This was one reason he didn’t like meeting them outside the Iori shrines; they were a magnet for unwanted attention.

Utahime’s face lit up at the sight of Shoko. Immediately, she dropped on the seat across from her and began to talk about the traffic, possibly in the hopes of piquing Kazuo’s empathy.

Gojo rounded the table and gave Kazuo an unsolicited one-armed embrace, grinning and remarking on how normal he looked outside of his priestly vestments.

By now, Kazuo had learned to take Gojo’s teasing in stride. When Gojo sat across from him and asked if he was angry, Kazuo tossed a scarlet paper bag at him to smother any talk of his temper. “It’s a shirt. I’m not sure if it’s your size, though. I bought it in a hurry and had no time to ask Utahime.”

“You didn’t have to,” Utahime said, although she and Gojo were already peering inside the paper bag like two curious children.

Absently, Utahime reached for Shoko’s coffee and took a sip. Gojo saw the whipped cream still bobbing at the top and claimed the drink for himself.

Kazuo slid his coffee towards Shoko, who took it gratefully. This was not the first time it happened. The longer Utahime stayed with Gojo, the more she became a food cleptomaniac like him.

Gojo sniffed the paper bag’s meager opening. “Maybe I should be with Kazuo instead. He has more expensive taste than you.”

Utahime wrinkled her nose. “Is this still about the curtain?”

Shoko stopped chewing on her cinnamon stick. “The moss green ones?”

“You liked them, didn’t you?” Utahime asked.

Shoko turned to Kazuo, who immediately retrieved his cup from her and busied himself with tearing another packet of creamer into his lukewarm coffee. No matter how quickly he stirred, the white clumps would no longer dissolve.

Utahime kicked Kazuo under the table, and he jolted in pain. “Why are you acting all weird?”

Kazuo shot Gojo a glare.

“Alright, we’re coming clean,” Gojo announced. “Remember the double date we had at the onsen in Tokyo?”

“It wasn’t a double date,” Kazuo muttered.

“Wasn’t it?” Shoko intoned.

“We convened while you were busy searching the mountainside for beer and agreed that your taste in curtains is horrendous, and Kazuo confessed that your parents keep you away during renovations because of your poor interior decorating choices.” Gojo sucked in a lungful of air after saying all of that in one breath. He clapped her in the back once. “Basically, we trust you with our lives but not with our living rooms.”

Utahime snatched Kazuo’s cup, spilling some of the now-milky coffee on the menu. “Is that true?”

It was Kazuo’s turn to kick Gojo under the table. Surprisingly, the idiot had his Infinity turned off and yelped at the blow. “Just when I thought I could trust you.”

“Senpai,” Shoko cooed. “Don’t worry too much about it. Moss green will eventually be in season, and then you’ll be the one laughing at all of us.”

Gojo consulted the menu, holding it up more towards Utahime and choosing to lean in instead to see the choices. “Don’t get her hopes up, Shoko. I already made progress by ripping them off earlier.”

Utahime elbowed him in the rib. “I’ll get new bedsheets in moss green.”

“You won’t be the Iori I’ll be sleeping next to if you do that.” Gojo stage-winked at Kazuo.

Kazuo dropped his forehead in his hand and grunted. “Hanging out with you is like hanging out with teenagers. Is there any point to this meeting at all? Are we here to discuss the Sasaki or…?”

In a movement so swift, Gojo grabbed Utahime’s left hand and covered it with his. “Guess what’s in Utahime’s hand?”

Shoko waved her cinnamon stick around like a cigarette. “Your ego. Your pride. Your self-worth.”

“Apart from those.”

Utahime looked like she might protest, but had turned so red in the face that she could not speak. “Satoru Gojo! Don’t turn this into a game show!”

“Ah!” Shoko raised her hand like a student in class. “Your balls.”

“That was earlier this morning.”

Utahime withdrew her hand and used it to smack Gojo in the head. Shoko shuddered in disgust, and Kazuo turned away to gag. That his little sister was sexually active was a given. Any information beyond that fact was unnecessary and nightmare-inducing.

Kazuo had a scolding ready on the tip of his tongue when he saw it—the diamond ring with tinges of blue at the center. Utahime used the same hand to beat Gojo’s back, which only compelled him to whine and tease her some more. It took a few more moments of chaos before they realized that Shoko and Kazuo had fallen silent and were now staring at her ring.

Gojo knew that most of Utahime’s anxiety regarding their engagement stemmed from her relationship with Kazuo. Her older brother may have given his blessing for them to be romantically involved, but that did not cancel the stress that any marriage or children to come would put on the Iori clan.

Utahime would be whisked away to the Gojo estate to be its new lady, and Kazuo would be left behind to manage the consequences on his own.

Beside him, Utahime put on a brave face and presented her ring to them with a smile.

Shoko must’ve sensed the brewing tension because she forced a laugh and stood up to embrace Utahime. Meanwhile, Gojo cupped his cheek in his left hand and raised his eyebrows at Kazuo, who was observing the two women in contemplative silence.

Shoko stretched out the congratulations and jokes for as long as she could, but eventually, they had to face the inevitable. Utahime turned to Kazuo, expectant, and was met instead with a weak ‘congratulations’ before walking out.

Gojo grabbed Utahime’s arm to stop her from going after him. This was the thing with Utahime. She may hesitate to face some difficult situations, but once she did, she attacked them like a bull.

“Let me speak to him first.” Gojo forced her back on her seat and kissed her forehead. “Order something for us.”

Utahime clenched her jaws and held the menu up inches away from her face, probably to hide the tears that had caught on her lashes.

Gojo made his way through the thinning crowd of customers inside the café and out the door, where he could see Kazuo heading to a smoking room.

Kazuo patted his pockets and found a lighter, but after more digging, did not produce a single cigarette. Cursing under his breath, he turned around and doubled back at the sight of Gojo.

“Wanna talk?” Gojo asked.

Kazuo averted his gaze and sighed. Now that they were outdoors under proper lighting, Gojo could see the exhaustion etched on his features.

“I probably shouldn’t have walked out,” Kazuo said.

Gojo sidestepped to avoid the incoming rush of pedestrians. Kazuo did the same.

“I thought Priestess Tomoe would’ve informed you,” Gojo said.

“Of your intentions, yes. Mother was pleased, actually. Don’t get me wrong. I am, too.” He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet to buy himself time. “It’s just that…you don’t know how the threat of the Sasaki and Suguru Getou has plagued me. Day and night, I worry that they’ll get Utahime and Haruki, and what would I do if something were to happen to them? I’ve spent my entire life protecting these two idiots, and now of all times, I have to relinquish one of them to you. And I understand that you are the strongest, but for god’s sake, Satoru Gojo, that’s my little sister.”

Gojo simply nodded. Tomoe had warned him that Kazuo may be snobbish and uptight, but deep inside, he cared. He probably cared to the point of blaming himself for anything wrong that might happen to their family, as the elders had been strict in his training as heir. Whatever joy he derived from his duty came mostly from the power it gave him to influence Utahime’s career and shield Haruki from the clan’s scrutiny. That Utahime had lasted so long in Jujutsu HQ without being sexually harassed to the degree that other sorceresses had been was thanks to him. While Gojo was away in Tokyo, it was Kazuo who monitored every male authority who so much as leered at his sister.

In that context, it made sense to Gojo why their engagement was difficult for Kazuo. Gojo may be the strongest, but that also meant his position was contested at every turn. Enemies would resort to depravity to get to him, just as they had done to his parents in an attempt to abort the possibility of the Six Eyes’ resurgence.

Gojo shoved his hands into his pockets and tipped his head back. The flat grey sky promised heavy snow tonight. Just as well that it was cold on this occasion, as Gojo was a selfish man. Anyone better would walk away and spare Utahime, but not him.

He wanted her, and for once, he would like to be just another man who loved a woman.

“It would mean a lot to us to get your blessing, even if I already put a ring on her.” Gojo beamed for good effect. He supposed he should’ve done better by asking Kazuo before proposing to Utahime. “We already tried not being together, and we were miserable. Now Utahime and I would like to see what it would be like to aim for forever.”

Kazuo actually chuckled and shook his head in disbelief.

Gojo shrugged. “It’s cheesy, I know, but I’m freshly engaged. Can’t really help it.”

Kazuo stepped forward and put his hand on Gojo’s shoulder. “I don’t intend to withhold my blessing. I think I just needed a moment to take it all in.”

“Oh, good. I wouldn’t want to assassinate you to get to your sister.”

All amusement left Kazuo’s face. Gojo stuck his tongue out and raised his hands to emphasize that it was a joke.

They fell in step with one another on the sidewalk as they made their way back to the coffee shop. The temperature had dropped considerably, and they pulled their scarves over their mouths to block the icy air.

Gojo elbowed Kazuo. “You think Haruki would give me a hard time?”

“Can you imagine Haruki giving anyone a hard time?”

“I suppose he’s not as bitter as you.”

“I’m not bitter,” Kazuo said, sounding bitter.

Gojo poked his shoulder. “Just to say, if you ever date Shoko, I won’t make it easy for you.”

Kazuo batted his finger away. “Who made you her father?”

“So you’re dating?”

“We’re not.” He paused and glanced at Gojo. “But if we were, it’s none of your business.”

“Trust me, it is,” he said. The coffee shop was only a few steps away, and he could see Utahime and Shoko inside, picking at their breakfast. Before he could stop himself, he whispered, “I promised Suguru.”

Kazuo opened the door to the coffee shop, and the chimes drowned out Gojo’s words. He thought that was for the best, as Kazuo wouldn’t understand anyway.

Utahime, scowling as she chewed on a piece of cinnamon stick, waved at them as though they might miss their table.

Kazuo led the way through the maze of tables and startled her with an embrace. Gojo wasn’t sure what Kazuo said to Utahime, as he was lagging behind on purpose to reduce the awkwardness for the siblings, but whatever it was made her blink back tears. In usual Utahime fashion, however, she slapped him on the back afterwards, and he, in turn, shoved her off her chair.

The waitress arrived with their order, successfully breaking them up and forcing the group to settle. Gojo resumed his seat next to Utahime and prioritized adding as many sugar cubes to his coffee as possible without her noticing.

After finishing their brunch, they agreed to do some Christmas shopping together to beat the rush. Shoko and Utahime went ahead, gossiping and laughing in the noisy streets of Kyoto.

Gojo and Kazuo gave them space and chatted quietly about sports and a few clan matters. It was in the middle of their conversation, just as Gojo was enjoying the warm contentedness of the day, that he stopped to look behind him.

The sensation was brief and faint, but he was sure he felt something.

“What is it?” Kazuo asked, searching the crowd for anything that might’ve caught his interest.

Ahead of them, Utahime yelled for them to catch up.

Gojo scanned the streets and skyscrapers for the final time before resuming their walk. Moments like this reminded him of the temporary nature of happiness. He could pretend the threats did not exist or that Suguru wasn’t after them, but all it took was one wrong turn, and they could lose everything.

Author’s Note: I wasn’t planning on doing the first half of it in Kazuo’s perspective, but I thought it would be nice to see Gojohime through another person’s eyes. A Gojohime marriage in the FC au would be complicated, and as stated in older FC chapters, it would change the trajectory of the Iori clan. Showing Gojo and Utahime take the risk purely out of love was something I couldn’t resist. On par with that is the image of Gojo stepping up in their relationship now that they’re engaged.

Another thing that prompted me to write this chapter is the fact that I wasn’t able to explore Utahime’s family dynamics in FC as much as Gojo’s. Hopefully, there will be more of the Iori family, their politics, and backstories here in Three Years.

If you like these lovely illustrations by Erika (and want to see more illustrations in every chapter), consider dropping a comment or buying her a coffee through the orange icon to the right. She really does spend them on new coffee shops where she makes these Gojohime art after work.

See you in the next installment of Three Years!