The infirmary is where Utahime found herself. A bandage had been plastered over the right side of her face, a testament to the cursed spirit’s nasty swipe. The wound, a jagged line stretching from her cheek to the bridge of her nose, throbbed in dull beats, mirroring the ache of a miscalculation that had nearly cost her everything.

Weeks crawled by, and the bandage was removed, revealing a deep pink scar. It was ugly, a permanent mark etched onto her face. Utahime tried to look at it with the same stoic expression she wore while facing cursed spirits, but it still stung. Yet, she tried her best to swallow the shame, wear it with pride instead. A Jujutsu Sorcerer’s scar, she’d rationalize to herself, it’s a badge of honor, a reminder that I’m still here.

Eventually, the call came for a gathering of instructors from both Tokyo and Kyoto High. Utahime stood in a corner of the crowded room, observing the murmuring groups of sorcerers. It was a relief that she was able to meet up with her peers after being out for weeks, yet, a small part of her hoped that she could avoid a certain someone. She was still getting used to her scar as it is, she didn’t want to deal with anyone’s scrutiny right now. But then, she saw him. She huffed out a breath, hoping he wouldn’t come her way.

But of course, luck wasn't on her side today. The tall, intimidating man made his way through the crowd, stopping right next to her. “Utahime-sensei,” he greeted her.

“Gojo,” she mumbled back, avoiding his gaze. She didn’t need his usual brand of goading today.

Just when she thought, he would leave her alone, one of his hand suddenly left his pocket. It hovered for a moment before lightly brushing against the scar on her face. Utahime flinched, trying to ignore the tingly sensation where his fingers had touched. Part of her wanted to swat his hand away, tell him to go bother someone else, but...

His fingers continued to graze the scar, “Are you okay?” Gojo asks, his tone was gentle and quiet.