Chapter Text
It had been completely unintentional. You'd only gone to Gojo's office because he'd told you to wait for him there for some sort of teacher's meeting or another.
You hadn't even been snooping.
The moment you entered his office you took a seat in the guest chair opposite his own. Your eyes had- by default- settled on the desk in front of you.
Gojo's desk was simple, sleek, and organized.
So the colorful image against the solid black was such a stark contrast that you couldn't fault yourself for noticing.
Gojo was a sharp man regardless of his seemingly carefree nature. He was perceptive, diligent, and very keen.
Which is why you didn't even consider that the image was left out unintentionally before you inspected it.
You didn't touch it, your hands were too warm against your lap in the chilled office for you to move them, but it was easy to make out the two smiling men photographed.
It was also easy to notice the small circle of water damage blurring the colors of the bright photo together, a white ring of empty photo-card surrounding the blurry circle from where the color had lifted entirely.
There were no drinks in Gojo's office. In fact, he actively avoided bringing anything consumable into his professional space- as he usually ate out anyway.
You weren't an idiot, it was painstakingly obvious just what had caused the water droplet on the image of the man you worked with, with his arm wrapped around the other man you'd heard so much, yet so little about.
Geto Suguru was an easy one to recognize.
Your eyes widened at the image of him looking so... domestic? You didn't know the right word for it, but it caused a pitiful feeling to swirl in your gut.
You'd been told you were an emotional person before. You had a history of being too empathetic when it came to sad situations.
You'd also been told that this profession was probably not the best for you if you got too sentimental over every death you encountered, but you had a strong enough resolve to separate those who deserved your empathy and those who did not.
And as the devastating pang rose in your chest, you were not mourning over Geto- you preferred to only know him as the man he had become, and you were grateful for the luxury of never meeting him when he had humanities sake in mind- regardless of being a sorcerer or not.
Instead, you mourned for Gojo. For the friend he watched transition into something horrible, for the day he had to watch his best friend die at his hand, for losing the only person capable of understanding even a fraction of the burden he carried.
Gojo would always be the strongest in your eyes, no matter who- if anyone- may surpass him in sorcery in your lifetime. Okay so maybe your admiration was slightly romantically enhanced- but that didn't mean that your respect for him was false or undeserved.
How he continued to move on day to day baffled you, and all you could think about was how terribly lonely he must feel.
You'd focused your gaze on your phone long before he returned, pretending to be obliviously invested in an email as he swiped the image off of his desk and glanced at you warily.
----------
It might've been selfish, doing this to ease your conscience because you knew it wasn't your place to offer him support regarding his dead best friend you'd never met, but you bought the small cake anyway.
The bakery wrapped the box nicely for you when you told them it was a gift for a friend, tying a small decorative tag to the ribbon to give you the option of writing a note on it.
You settled for drawing a small cat with a blindfold reminiscent of the one your coworker wore daily.
You dropped it off on his desk while you knew he was away, and continued your day like nothing happened.
When he called you asking you to wait for him in his office again, the box had not been touched.
I think somebody left a package on your desk.
You messaged him with the intent of making it seem as if you'd discovered the mysterious delivery.
Your master plan seemed to work, as one second you were alone in the office, and the next he was instantly in front of you, grabbing the wrapped box.
His eyebrows raised beneath the blindfold.
"Excited you have a secret admirer?" You taunted.
He waved you off, electing to ignore your teasing so that he could inspect the package further.
He glanced at the tag, barely minding it before he started to carefully untie the ribbon.
You swallowed your urge to grumble at his lack of attention to your doodle.
If I'd received a doodle I would've at least thought it was endearing. You thought to yourself bitterly.
You pushed your thoughts away to gauge Gojo's reaction as he opened the box to inspect the cake.
"It's a cake?" He said slightly confused.
"Oh?"
He shrugged, closing the box neatly and sliding it to the side of his desk.
"I'll save it for later, I have more paperwork for you."
You nodded, collecting what you needed before promptly leaving to get back to work- and entirely missing the white-haired man's small smile before he tucked the cat doodle into his pocket.
---------
Gojo was at a loss for who could be delivering the abundance of sweets he'd been receiving. He'd tried staking out his office after the second cake that arrived a week later, but instead, he'd received a confused Itadori informing him that he'd been instructed to deliver a package to him by some random woman.
You'd overheard the pink-haired boy asking Megumi if maybe Gojo's secret admirer was an obsessed one-night stand.
"Where did you get the idea that he does that?" Megumi had responded, disgusted.
You'd briefly wondered where Gojo's womanizer reputation had come from as well, and why you'd believed it in the first place when you only knew the man to work.
You scolded yourself for the ignorant judgment.
The next week a candy subscription box showed up at the school for Gojo.
----------
His plan was simple. He'd eliminate his coworkers as suspects first.
He knew it wasn't Shoko, and he'd already alerted her of his plans for investigation.
You were next up on the list.
Asking you to accompany him to take the first years out to exorcise curses was nothing out of the ordinary, you'd usually accompany them when you were free of paperwork.
He'd dropped the three teens off, waved goodbye, and then warped you into the city.
Your first response was to groan, unhappy with his knack for leaving them on their own even if you knew they were all capable.
"Come on they'll be fine, I'll know if they aren't and then we'll be on our way." He was so easy to listen to.
"You're buying me lunch." You assured.
He chuckled motioning for you to lead the way as he eyed you suspiciously.
You were still a suspect.
Lunch was quick. Gojo asked you an abnormal amount of questions which you dodged by pretending you were oblivious.
It seemed to work, albeit Gojo was disheartened by the end of the meal after realizing he was not anywhere near figuring out who his secret admirer was. You felt bad for him momentarily, debating whether or not you should just tell him it was you and pretend you did it to make him uneasy.
You didn't like that idea, as you'd hoped your gifts would be reminders for the man that people still cared about him- or even just momentary happiness for the man whose life was so plagued by loss and responsibility, but it was kind of embarrassing to admit to him.
You wrenched yourself from your inner debate when you glanced into a shop window next to you- Gojo having insisted on walking the street side of the sidewalk- and your jaw dropped.
Feet slamming to a halt, you backpedaled to the entrance of the shop, Gojo following along in intrigue.
Your feet guided you to the shelf behind the window display, where the massive cat tree was stored.
"I'm buying this." You nodded to yourself, ignoring the obscene price that would absolutely dent your bank account.
"I thought you were trying to save money." Gojo chided, watching as you hoisted the difficulty large box into your arms and hobbled to the checkout counter.
"I'll just make sure to eat my vitamins for the next month." You decided, plotting in your head how surely you'd be able to survive a diet of instant meals if you were diligent in taking the vitamins that would no doubt be missing from the sodium-packed ramen sitting in your cupboard back home.
"Makes sense." He concluded.
You paid for the cat tree swiftly, holding in the sobs that you wanted to release at the absurd amount of money you just paid- your budget was tight, especially after your new weekly bakery visits.
Gojo had always been reserved around you. Not unfriendly, just simply civil, unwavering in his happy-go-lucky character so much so that you really knew nothing about him unless the students he was close with mentioned it.
So it surprised you at first when he'd asked you so many questions over lunch, especially the ones pertaining to what you did outside of work and if you enjoyed sweets by any chance.
It hadn't taken you long to figure out he was trying to determine if you were the anonymous gift giver or not. You'd answer everything honestly, and plainly, keeping up your own character of boring and work-obsessed.
It's not that you didn't want to get to know the handsome man before you, but it didn't take much to understand that it wasn't very often he'd accept new people into his life, and if you could only add some semblance of joy into it by remaining anonymous, then so be it- you wouldn't have to worry about getting attached and losing him- although it seemed far more likely that you'd die to the job long before he did.
"Since when do you have a cat?" Gojo asked after you'd walked about a block away from the pet store.
You perked up instantly, he noticed.
"Oh! I've had Poe for about a year now, he's the best."
"He's a big fan of climbing I take it?"
You huffed out a laugh.
"Yeah, definitely. He's uh, been slowing down recently though so I'm hoping this will cheer him up a little." You nudged the box in your arms.
"Is he sick?" Gojo asked, intrigued now.
"Sorta, he's really old. The vet said he's around eighteen now, my little old man."
Blue eyes widened beneath the glasses he'd swapped in for the blindfold at lunch.
"But you've only had him a year?"
"Yeah I adopted him as a senior cat, they said he'd probably only have a few months to live but he's still kickin'." You laughed a little in an attempt to lighten the story, but Gojo saw it was a tender subject.
"I'm sure the care you give him has a lot to do with that." He stated assuredly.
Fondness tightened up your heart as you smiled at him.
"Thank you, I appreciate that. I just wanted to make him happy."
The man beside you observed you for a moment before responding, you had a bittersweet smile on your face as you peeked down at the image of the elaborate cat tree on the box.
"Well," He started, making sure he caught your attention before he continued. "I think that'll definitely do the trick."
The genuine laugh you let out was equivalent to a reward, and the sorcerer found a fond smile spread across his face.
"Are you gonna need any help setting it up?"
"Are you offering?"
"I guess I am."
"Well then, that sounds good to me." You cast him a cheesy smile and he shook his head in faux annoyance.
"Actually, I can warp it to my place real quick so you don't have to carry it around, and then I can bring it by later tonight."
"That would be great actually, I will text you my address right now."
---------
The knock on your door was highly anticipated. You'd deep-cleaned your house before he arrived, shoving cookies into the oven, and lint-rolling the black cat hair off of your couch.
You swung the door open with a welcoming smile. He'd elected to keep his glasses on.
The large box he was carrying seemed so much smaller in his grasp.
Sometimes you forgot how big of a man Gojo was, even with his lean muscle he was broad, his thighs equally as powerful as his wide shoulders.
You blinked rapidly as you realized your silent staring.
"Come in come in, thank you so much again." You sputtered, stepping aside to let him in.
Poe meowed at the new guest, although he didn't rise from his spot- curled up on a soft blanket that never left your couch.
Setting down the box, Gojo wandered over to the cat, squatting down to offer his knuckles for a quick assessment sniff before Poe deemed him friendly.
The purr that filled the room was loud and broken. Your little old man having lost his voice with age.
You moved to stand beside Gojo, his head the same height as your ribcage even as he stooped low.
"He likes you." You observed.
"Most do."
You scoffed, a smile on your face even as you rolled your eyes.
"Poe is usually an excellent judge of character, so I don't know what's wrong with him today."
This time Gojo was the one to scoff.
"You seem to have forgotten that I'm the one with the secret admirer here." His smile was smug.
You waved him off.
"Yeah yeah, now help me figure out how to set this thing up."
Gojo watched you intently as you moved to sit down next to the large box, his finger still moving under the old cat's chin until he felt Poe move.
His black fur puffed up as he stretched, a big yawn leaving his mouth- Gojo noticed a few of his teeth were missing- before he hopped down and slowly meandered over to you. Your hands found the old feline's head absentmindedly as you continued to read the instructions, only stopping to coo at your companion and place a kiss atop his fluffy little head.
You moved to sit criss-cross, and Poe crawled into your lap accordingly, as if this was the typical routine, and Gojo figured it might be.
He suddenly felt like he was intruding, so he tore his gaze away from you struggling with the instructions to inspect the rest of your cozy living room.
One bookshelf in particular caught his eye.
Instead of books, it was lined with framed pictures. On the top shelf, it showed you and a pair of nearly identical dogs, two equally identical boxes sitting on either side of the frame, two dates and one name engraved on each. A collar sat atop each box, the names on the tags matching the names engraved, and two toys- that he now concluded must've been the favorites of each dog- sat, one next to each box.
As his gaze drifted farther down the shelf, he noticed a similar pattern. Each one had a picture of you with an animal or two, next to a box of their ashes topped with collar and a toy.
You'd noticed Gojo looking, but you didn't know what to say to him when you knew he'd experienced a terrible loss of his own.
"Do you adopt all of these as senior animals?" He questioned, still examining to shelves.
"Mostly, some are sick to the point treatment won't work. All of them are loved though- regardless of how long they're here." You shrugged, looking down at Poe to scratch the spot behind his left ear he adored.
"Why do you do that to yourself?" It was a genuine question, a hopeful part of himself wondering if maybe you had some secret to handling loss that made it easier.
"I'd always wanted to when I was younger. Thinking about old animals living out the rest of their lives without a home makes me sadder than giving them one-if only briefly. Plus, if I only thought about how much it would hurt losing them, I'd never get to enjoy having them."
His brain stalled.
Luckily, you continued.
"I don't know, I just think if we're so focused on loss, we'll miss out on a lot of great people- well, animals in my case." You let out a soft huffed laugh as you continued to admire the black feline curled up in your lap.
"What's the point if them dying is inevitable?"
"What's the point of living if not to love? It goes both ways, saying we all live to die is so- morbid. I try not to focus on losing them, because yeah they'll all pass on eventually, but I'm giving them comfort, love- the chance to love and live as long as they need. It does suck when they pass on, it's horrible and it always hurts and it never gets better, but I think it's selfish not to love someone just because you're afraid it'll hurt you in the end."
"What do you do- I mean like, after. How do you deal with it?"
He was sitting on the floor next to you now, watching as you pulled out pieces for the cat tree and placed them on the open carpet space around you.
You'd noticed he wasn't just asking these questions to gauge how you dealt with the loss of your beloved pets. He was searching for something deeper, some answer he'd been looking for for a long time.
"I don't know if I can give you the answer you're looking for."
Gojo seemed to snap out of whatever wonder your conversation had held him in, his mouth opening to apologize before you spoke again.
"But for me, it puts me at ease knowing they keep on living through me, because where does anyone live on if not in our memories."
There was a silent pause as Gojo mulled over your words.
"Does it ever feel like they're gone too soon, like- you never really got to love them."
"Every single time I lose one it feels like they're gone too soon, but if you loved them you loved them. It doesn't matter for how long, it's not like you stop loving them after they're gone- that's not a requirement of death. Even if you don't realize you've loved them until after they're gone, you still loved them, all you can do is keep loving them, you know?"
You didn't look up at him, knowing it would pressure him into convincing you he was only asking these questions out of intrigue, and not due to his still open wounds of loss.
Piece by piece the cat tree was dragged out of the box as you allowed Gojo the silence to ponder.
The beep of your oven had your head snapping up, and you gently scooped Poe out of your lap, transferring him into Gojo's before you silently got up and headed towards the kitchen.
You slipped on your oven mitts, pulling out the metal tray quickly and setting it down on the counter, yelping quietly as the hot air from the oven singed against your arms.
"You alright?" Gojo called from where he remained on the floor.
"Yeah, the oven air is just super hot."
"Whatcha makin'?"
"Cookies. They're chocolate chip I didn't know what you'd like so I just went for the basic."
"I like most sweet things." He assured.
"Good, because I made the whole pack."
It took the two of you a good few hours to set up the cat tree, rain pattered against your windows, the house filling with your shrieking laughter as Gojo recounted Nanami Kento's "emo" days.
You calmed yourself down to finish screwing on the last piece of the tree.
"Ah! It's done!" You cheered, standing up and pulling the massive piece of feline furniture with you.
"Let me help you." Gojo rose from his seated position.
He was taller than the 6-foot 2-inch tree, and he gradually loomed above you as you held it up carefully.
He glanced down at you, his eyes visible above the rim of his glasses for only a moment before he took the tree into his hold.
Poe loved the new addition.
-------
Gojo's "investigation" was not concluded after that night, and he continued to drag you along with his students, finding one excuse or another to break away from them and tow you behind him.
He found himself ending up at your house a lot. You offered to make dinner as thanks for his help with the cat tree, and then he'd grown a sudden interest in doing you favors- resulting in more invites.
You'd make him dinner, and he'd ask you about a different animal on the shelf each time. He was dedicated to every story you told, wonderstruck by how detailed you recounted the personality and special traits of your lost companions.
He hadn't told you about Geto yet, and you hadn't asked.
You weren't concerned with the logistics of their past, you simply enjoyed Gojo's company.
Gojo on the other hand, was still adamant that his time spent with you was solely research to figure out who his admirer was. He wouldn't admit that your vast experience with loss drew him in. He wouldn't admit that he'd found solace in your stance on death, that he'd mull over your words every time he found himself thinking of his lost friend.
He wouldn't admit that for the first time, ever, he'd stopped shaming himself for grieving the absence of Geto.
"You'd be a cat." You nodded to yourself as if you'd dedicated your life to studying the subject at hand and had finally reached the peak of your life's work.
Gojo tilted his head in response.
You'd brought up the conversation on your own, giving the man little time to process it before you were already naming his.
"And what makes you think that?"
"I don't think, I know. You're all reserved and calculating, exactly like Poe actually." The cat on your lap lifted his head at the mention of his name, blinking up at Gojo with narrowed eyes before laying back down.
Gojo's jaw dropped at the dirty look.
"I am not. I am friendly and outgoing."
"Two things can be true." You shrugged.
"What makes you think that about me?"
"Gojo I've worked with you for almost two years now and we've only just started to actually act like friends."
"Who said it was an act?"
You rolled your eyes.
"Don't think I don't know about your little investigation, you're wasting your time."
"Is it so hard to believe I just enjoy spending time with you?"
"Yes."
"Ouch." He clutched a hand over his heart.
"I'm not here to psychoanalyze you though, I just think you are very feline-esque."
He toyed with a loose string on the ankle of your pajama pants, your legs resting straight across his lap as the two of you shared your quaint couch. He'd stopped by fairly late tonight, rousing you from your sleep- although you were unwilling to admit it even when he asked.
"Isn't that right Poe? That's why you like him." You smiled cheekily down at the cat that had risen to knock his head against the underside of your chin.
Gojo watched the purring cat intently.
"How do you move on, or how do you know you're ready to adopt again?"
He did this every so often. Asked the sorts of questions that most people wanted answers to, the sort of questions that the answers were never easy to adopt into anyone's routine of grief.
He'd slip them into conversations of any sort, sometimes one after the other, sometimes days apart.
It hadn't taken you long to realize Gojo had held these questions in for a very long time.
So you didn't mind answering them.
"It depends. Sometimes they find me when I least expect it- when I still think I'm too busy grieving, and sometimes I seek them out. A lot of times pet owners judge you for wanting another pet after yours has passed because they think you couldn't have loved your other pets if you wanted a new one for some reason. I don't agree with that at all. It's sort of like people to me, it's okay to seek someone out when you're grieving, and when you're not. We're humans, it's in our nature."
A sour look overtook your face, your lips pursing and your nose scrunching as you thought of something.
"I think that's my least favorite thing about the sorcerer world. This, unspoken rule that we should just get used to everyone dying and learn how to move on quickly. It doesn't make any sense to me."
That made sense to Gojo. That made so much sense to Gojo, that suddenly he couldn't fathom how he had never thought that way before.
"Has anyone ever called your takes a little idealistic?"
"Oh absolutely. That doesn't mean they're right to say so. Why shouldn't we grieve? It's necessary, otherwise, you're gonna carry around a lot of pent-up emotion for a long long time."
You were right, of course, you were right. Gojo realized you'd just perfectly described his state of emotion ever since he'd had to kill Geto. Was that where you'd gotten that sentiment from?
Suddenly, Gojo felt self-conscious. A burning pit of embarrassment ignited in his stomach. He didn't know what to do with the feeling. He didn't know what to say to defend himself from the judgment you surely harbored. So he scoffed.
"We're sorcerers, it seems a bit delusional to take a day off over a death- let alone an animal."
You blinked in shock, your mouth opening and closing as you processed what he'd said.
"That's a little mean."
Gojo knew that, he knew that he didn't need to say it and that he didn't need to continue, but something inside him was swirling angrily.
He just didn't realize that the emotion was directed towards himself rather than you before he spoke.
"It's a little pathetic." He ignored your response as he continued.
You were too confused at where his attitude switch had come from to retaliate, so he continued.
"Really, you don't bring much to the table as a sorcerer if you're gonna sit down and cry every time somebody dies. How do you still even have your job?"
"You don't mean that."
"I do."
"That's not fair."
"How so?"
"You asked me for the advice, and don't you dare pretend it was because you cared about my own experience because I know damn well you don't."
He didn't know why he kept talking, he didn't know why he was taking this all out on you.
"You're right, I don't" He shrugged.
You recoiled, your feet lurching off of his lap and up towards yourself.
They left a coldness in their wake.
"I think you need to calm down, Gojo. I don't know why you're so angry with me."
"I'm not angry."
"You are. At who? I don't know, but take it elsewhere I don't want to argue with you right now. I know you've dealt with a loss of your own and you can deal with that however you see fit I will not judge you, but I'm allowed to deal with mine however I want to too."
If only therapy was a normalized practice in sorcerer society, maybe this argument wouldn't be happening. Unfortunately, active sorcerers just don't become therapists.
A blank expression overtook the face of the man before you, and you nervously watched him rise and make his way towards the door.
"I care about you, Gojo. I hope you know that."
Your comment made him pause with his hand on the doorknob, a small nod the only indication he heard you before he was gone.
Warm fingers slid into your hair as your head sunk between your hands, a tight grip replacing the light touch as your stomach churned.