Ataraxia 平静 | Gojo Satoru

-'๑'-𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟓-'๑'-

Opium.

Confusion flickered across my face as I narrowed my eyes at the Zen'in leader and the aloof figures in the room. Then it dawned on me—the wisps of smoke enveloping the space, the mounting drowsiness, and the sense of relaxation.

Glancing to the far right, I spotted the small opium pipe, its thin contents evaporating over the heater. I mentally cursed myself for not noticing sooner.

"I hope you don't mind it," he drawled, following my line of sight and leaning on one forearm. "It does put everyone in a better mood. Makes for more pleasant conversations."

I turned to steal a glance at Gojo, still cradling his head in my arms. My cheeks flushed at the sight, but before I could adjust myself, he held me in place, digging his fingers in my legs. I almost let out a gasp, but he spoke, his voice covering the strangled sound.

"Not particularly, though a warning would have been appreciated," he drawled with a lazy smile.

Naobito jerked his chin towards my sprawled form. "Your woman seems to like it," he remarked with a grin.

My cheeks burned hotter at his bold comment, but Gojo only chuckled darkly, his hands trailing over my belly.

A wave of dizziness washed over me, the heat pulsating through my veins and pooling between my legs. I felt like I was going to faint.

"Don't let her distract you," Gojo murmured against my neck, his fingers tracing gentle patterns under my breasts. "Tell me more about this deal of yours. Why do you want the Kamo leader dead?"

But his words met a brick wall, Ogi Zen'in lost in a passionate embrace with the woman in his arms, while Jinichi seemed on the verge of nodding off. So Naobito sighed, Naoya prowling to his side.

"The Kamo Family has always had connections with Jujutsu HQ. Both have reputable members and a dark history," he looked over to his son, "and the conflicts between our Clans are no secret."

Gojo pondered, meeting his gaze over my shoulder. "So, you're leveraging this situation to rid yourself of a potential rival."

Naobito shrugged, opting for the entire bottle of sake instead of another glass. "You could say that," he said, taking a swig. "That old bastard has done nothing but sow havoc between me and the Commander."

I could hear their conversation, but my mind was elsewhere—clouded and elated. I knew it was because of the opium swirling in my nostrils; or so I tried to convince myself. Gojo's ceaseless touch ignited a fervor within me, making it difficult to focus. He was well aware of it too, smirking and growling against my skin every time I flinched at his hand massaging my thigh, or his fingers slithering up my waist.

And though it sent me fighting urges I didn't even know existed, it also made me mad. Mad, because he was enjoying it, watching me suffer under his touch. Because he knew I struggled to maintain my composure in front of these brutes.

And because I couldn't return his torture.

My mind strained. I peeled away from his embrace, settling myself in his lap with a taunting smile. He assessed me carefully, and my smile turned into a smirk as I traced a finger down his chest, then lower, slowly unhooking another button of his suit. Then another.

His breath hitched, lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze never leaving mine. Before the Zen'in leader interjected.

"So what do you say?" he pressed.

Gojo swallowed, his throat bobbing before he met the man's eyes. "I need more information on this. Why would Kamo ally himself with—" his words halted as I rested my head on his shoulder, running my fingers over the ripples of his now-exposed stomach. He cleared his throat, voice ragged as he continued. "Why would Kamo align with curses, only to directly attack Tokyo High? It would go against HQ."