My face is heating up with anger and irritation at the sound of the unwanted nickname he used for me. I roll my eyes, at the same time glad and annoyed that he can't see me. "Don't call me that," I hiss.
"Why not?" Gojo asks with an audible smile in his voice. "What would you like me to call you then?"
"My name would be just fine."
"Oh, so that's what you're into?" Before I can answer, he whispers into the phone, "Say my name."
Now, my face is redding with something that isn't quite anger. He can't say things like that in a tone like that with his voice like that and expect it to come off as a joke. I narrow my eyes and purse my lips, wishing he could see my disappointed face right now.
"You're not funny, you know that, right?" I say, but he only laughs in response.
"You're the one who texted me first."
"And I'm deeply regretting that now. I'm sorry to have bothered you, I'll go now," I snap, already moving the phone away from my ear when Gojo's hectic voice stops me.
"No, no, okay, I'll stop," his voice comes through my phone, making me sigh and put my phone back to my ear.
"Did you want something that made you call me twice and leave about a dozen messages?" I ask him, but I don't really care. I don't care if he had a good reason or just wanted to hear my voice. I don't care if he has something to talk about or not because that has never stopped him from talking before. It doesn't matter why he called; I just care that he did.
"What were you doing earlier?" Gojo asks me instead of answering my question, and my ridiculous brain is convinced that he only called to ask me that.
"I was having dinner and then helped Shoko clean like Yaga told me to," I tell him.
"Ah, that's right," Gojo replies in a surprisingly monotone voice, and I snort.
"You knew that already, didn't you?"
He's silent for a moment, which makes me laugh. "No?" His answer is more of a question than a statement.
I laugh even more. "Shoko said it won't happen again unless you ask her about it. Have you been asking about me?"
Silence again, followed by another uncertain "No?"
My face heats up first, and then my body. I kick the blanket away and grin. "Come on, you're a better liar than this."
Gojo chuckles, a soft and now familiar sound that I haven't heard in too long. "I'm a worse liar than you think."
"Sure, okay," is all I say to that and roll my eyes again. "I was on a mission today." Just as I said that, I wonder why I even told him. "Did you know that already, too?"
"I didn't," Gojo answers, and I believe him. "I called Shoko earlier to ask why you weren't picking up your phone, and she said you two just finished your punishment, and you're taking a shower right now. That's all."
I narrow my eyes, suspicious, but it does make perfect sense for him to call the one person who would know what I was doing while he was calling me like a frantic fool for no apparent reason.
"How was it?"
"Hm?" His question takes me by surprise.
"The mission?"
"Oh." I put my hand to my forehead and silently curse myself for being so stupid. "It was good. No big deal. It's not like it was a grade 2 or higher," I joke, referring to what he said about his own mission yesterday.
Gojo laughs, and I recognize it as the kind of laugh he's always had when I make fun of him, and he wants to show me how ridiculous it was of me to say that. Even before this whole friendship mission, he's had this laugh. Especially then. "I'm sure you still had more fun than I did, though," he says, and all the laughter is gone from his voice, which makes me frown.
"Why? What happened?" I put the phone on speaker and lay it on my pillow so I don't have to use my arm anymore. "Utahime said she saw you leave pretty early this morning."
"Did you ask about me?"
I blush even though that's not even what happened. "No, it just came up."
Gojo chuckles. "Sure," he says, and I narrow my eyes. "I was told to take care of a site in Osaka, and it had to be fast, so I did that this morning. I came back and was sent to the Kyogamisaki Lighthouse, where apparently people tell themselves stories about how there's a sea witch who eats people, so I took care of the curse there that eats people."
I smile a little at his attempt to make this seem lighter than it is. Of course, Gojo doesn't have to travel distances like a normal person does, but it's still a three-hour drive from Osaka to the lighthouse. He was sent from one coast to the other, and I can't imagine that this didn't put a strain on him.
To my absolute mortification, he continues, "When I came back to Kyoto to tell Gakuganji that I was done, he told me that Mei Mei needed help in Okayama." Another three hours by car. "When I got there, she'd already taken care of everything and told me I shouldn't have come."
My jaw drops. When Utahime said that Gakuganji was "tough on him," that was a real understatement. He's not "tough on" Gojo. He's an asshole. Just because Gojo doesn't like to listen and rather plays by his own rules, that's no reason to work him to the bone like this. I do realize the irony in this: I would have done the same thing if I were in the position to do that, but now I know better.
Now I know that Gojo doesn't deserve to be treated like a lifeless instrument. He's a human being who can get tired too, even though he doesn't show it, and he gets exhausted, too, even though he tries to hide it. He deserves a break just like the rest of us. We go out on missions, we come back, and that's it. There's nothing after that if not absolutely necessary. I can't imagine the amount of time Gojo spent today by traveling, let alone by fighting and exorcizing curses left and right.
I don't even know what to reply to that. Do I say what I'm thinking and curse out Gakuganji? Or should I tell him to suck it up? To keep fighting? I want to give him some encouraging words, but is that what he wants to hear?
Luckily, I don't have to say anything at all when Gojo says, "I came back to the school just before I got your message. That brightened my entire day."
Shit, now I feel even worse. That asshole. No, I'm the asshole here. I ignored his messages and calls and got annoyed with him for bothering me when all he really wanted was to talk to me after a hard day.
"Couldn't you have just... not gone? What is he going to do about it?" I ask. "You never listen to what they're saying anyway." I try to laugh, but it doesn't seem to catch on.
"I can't do that this time."
I frown. "Why not?"
Gojo sighs into the phone, and my stomach tightens. What's going through his mind? "Because I don't want them to keep me here any longer than I have to."
Shit. Shit, shit! I think I'm going to tear up. He never said that this was about me. He never said that he doesn't want to be kept away from me any longer than he has to. I don't seem to want to understand that I might be the last thing on his list. Shoko is here, too, and he certainly likes her better than me. And Yaga is way nicer than that old fart Gakuganji. This isn't about me.
After a long silence, I say, "Gojo."
"Hm?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
I smile. Ten days ago, he would have replied with a stupid comment or a sassy remark. Today, he replies with a calm voice, a "sure" that makes my insides crumble into a pile of ash. When I close my eyes, it feels as if he's right next to me, and it makes me smile even more.
"Why are you suddenly so nice to me?"
There's a smile in his voice when he answers, "I didn't realize I was."
Four weeks of rolling my eyes at every word he says has made this become a habit of mine. "You know what I mean," I argue and try not to let myself get too annoyed. I just want an answer. I need to know if I'm imagining things, if my feelings are changing the way I see things, or if he really means something. "You're at least nicer than... before."
"Before?"
Oh, now he's just being an ass. "You know exactly what I mean," I grunt. The weekend, you asshole. The weekend. "Forget it."
Gojo chuckles once. Just once before he replies with a smile, "Because you made me feel not as miserable as I thought I would be that weekend."
Despite the words being less friendly than I'd hoped, I can't help but grin because I know that he's not telling me everything. That's one thing I've learned about him, at least. "And maybe someday you'll tell me the truth," I say.
He laughs. "Maybe I will."