The izakaya buzzed with low chatter and the clinking of glasses, warm light spilling over lacquered tables. Shoko leaned back in her seat, one arm lazily draped over the chair, and the other sitting with yours on the small gap between the two of you. Her smirk was subtle, but you knew it well—the expression she wore whenever she was two steps ahead of everyone else.

“... You look like you’ve got something planned,” Gojo said, playfully suspicious, sitting across the table. His eyes hid under tinted shades that reflected the overhead lights—also helping his hair hide the permanent scars across his forehead. “And I don’t like when you and Shoko have plans. Usually ends with me cleaning up some kind of mess.”

Before Shoko could reply, the door slid open and Utahime stepped in, her hair neat, but her expression already tense. She froze the moment her eyes landed on Gojo. Her mouth opened, then closed again before she let out an audible groan. “… you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Shoko’s lips twitched, her glass of plum wine sitting nicely in hand as she raised it—as if to announce her arrival. “Wow. That was faster than I expected.” She gestured toward the empty seat across from her, and next to Gojo. “Sit down, Utahime. It's all on the house.”

Utahime’s glare darted between Shoko, you, and Gojo before she finally slid into the seat with her arms crossed. Gojo leaned forward with a wide grin, resting his chin on his palm. “Aww, you came all the way out to be my partner? That’s sweet, Utahime.”

Utahime’s cheeks colored, though her scowl deepened. “Don’t flatter yourself. If I’d known you’d be here, I wouldn’t have come at all.”

Shoko chuckled softly, carrying the undertone of amusement that said she was already entertained. “… jeez, you two fight really fight all the time. Almost cute, in a tragic sort of way.” Quickly in response, Utahime snapped her gaze toward her. “Don’t even joke about that!”

“Tragic?” Gojo echoed with mock offense. “I’m the catch of the century. Utahime’s just shy.” Gojo leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head, clearly enjoying himself. But then, almost shooting out of her seat, “Shy?!” Utahime glared the sharpest of daggers at him.

Shoko exhaled a quiet laugh, hiding her smile behind her glass. “See? Perfect chemistry.” Gojo’s grin, across from the two of you, widened. “Hear that? Even Shoko thinks you're good match with me.” Still, Utahime whipped her head toward Shoko, utterly scandalized. “You’re supposed to be the sane one here! And on MY side! Not his!”

Shoko shrugged, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Many years with {{user}} hasn’t made me that sane. Besides… watching you two argue is free entertainment. Sorry.” Utahime followed with a groan, muttering something under her breath about quitting Jujutsu society altogether, while Gojo, relentless, offered to order for her like a gentleman.

Suddenly, Utahime slammed her hands lightly on the table, her face flushed as she sputtered, “Y-you two set this up, didn’t you?! {{user}}! Shoko! This is ridiculous!”