Chapter Text
Gojo was no stranger to doing morally dubious acts, but this was a step too far, even for him. He liked to think of himself as a good guy who cared about people, as much as he could as a sorcerer anyway.
But there were days like this where that fact was very much up for debate. He pondered over his actions one last time before emptying the entirety of the powdery substance into the warm kettle. With a hum, he watched as it dissolved. The tea retained its original colour. He leaned back, listening to the hands of the clock and waiting.
He would like to continue thinking of himself as morally just even after today. He briefly wondered if he should have told Shoko what he was about to do. There was a 50/50 chance she would have talked him out of it. But, oh well, it was too late to back out now—he assured himself.
Gojo didn’t have to do this; deep down, he knew that. He also knew that he wanted to do this. Not because this idea was exciting to Gojo in a twisted sort of way. No, he couldn’t admit that just yet. But because Gakuganji deserved it, of course.
There was some truth to that statement, undeniably. However, there were perhaps better... and perhaps more legal ways to go about it. Gojo crossed his arms across his chest. He had already reasoned himself out of committing mass murder, so he owed himself this little bit of fun at the very least. Even if nothing came out of it.
The door to his right slid open, pulling him out of his daydream, and as Gojo gave his signature smile he simply accepted that it was too late to back out now. He had already decided not to simply kill all the higher-ups so he might as well indulge himself with something slightly less ethically questionable than murder.
“You’re late.” He chuckled as the old man sat in front of him.
Gakuganji said nothing and simply regarded Gojo with a tight-lipped frown. Two girls entered the room. Miwa and Mai.
Jackpot. Gojo thought. He had only been counting on one other person to be there. But fate was handing him additional excitement on a silver platter; how could he say no?
He leaned back on the plush sofa, crossing his legs just as the old man took a sip of his tea. Gakuganji bore a confused expression on his face. “Where is Yaga?”
“He isn’t coming." He sing-songed. "Not for another 3 hours at least.”
“Oh?” The old man hummed, setting the tea cup back on the coaster. He didn’t look concerned or surprised.
He should be. Gojo thought to himself after studying his expression.
Gojo let the silence linger while he idly readjusted his sunglasses. Not that it signalled anything, but he knew people who weren’t used to being around him felt a certain kind of way under his stare, and so he had made a point of leaving his blindfold at home.
And damn, he was glad he did. Gakuganji’s expression remained neutral, but Gojo could spot the slight nervous bob of his Adam’s apple and the way he gripped his cane just a little tighter. It was enthralling for Gojo.
“I gotta thank you for the other day...” He started, his voice casual and high-pitched, carefully lacking any note of annoyance.
The old man quirked an eyebrow.
“Don’t play dumb with me. You know I’m here because of your little stunt with one of my students.”
Gakuganji sighed, taking yet another sip of his tea. He looked like he hated having this conversation. They had had similar ones many times before. “I just did what needed to be done.” He admitted it, knowing there was no point in beating around the bush.
“Oh? You know.. I’ve always wondered why the higher-ups seem to be particularly skilled at carrying out appalling tasks like these, yet they are completely useless when it comes to protecting those they claim to protect.”
Gakuganji’s lips pursed into a thin line, his lone eye almost glaring. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you brat?”
Gojo shrugged, casually uncrossing his legs and leaning forward. “They don’t have their priorities straight. They are tied up in traditionalist ideas, rules, and all that jargon that makes them lose sight of things. Why do you still listen to them? Is it because you’re spineless?”
There was a beat of silence right before Gojo was graced with a full-blown glare. “You’re crossing a line here. Youth these days have no knowledge of respect.”
“I never had any intention of respecting you.” Gojo knew he was egging him on, but that’s just what he had wanted to do. What he hadn’t expected was for one of the students to speak up.
“Excuse me. Your behaviour is problematic. I will be reporting you to the relevant authorities.” Miwa stated, wearing a serious expression on her face. But it wasn’t hard to see through it; she was just doing her duty, and Gojo couldn’t fault her for that.
Mai looked like she didn’t want to be there and couldn’t give less of a shit about what was happening. Gojo wasn’t sure if she was listening. Clever girl.
Before Gojo could answer, Gakuganji lifted his hand, gently gesturing at Miwa. “It’s fine. I think we’re about done-”
Gojo could see the exact moment it happened; he made sure to look on, his gaze fixated and intent with fascination. He wanted to store the mental picture in his memory. After all, it’s not always you see a man of Gakuganji’s calibre look so utterly confused about his own body.
Gakuganji’s brows furrowed as his right hand clenched the cane tighter. His other hand rested on his stomach. Gojo could see the wheels turning in his brain. He was trying so hard to figure out the familiar yet odd feeling of his bladder being so uncomfortably full.
Gojo knew he had probably gone overboard with the dosage of diuretics. He had only asked Shoko vague questions about the side-effects, quantities, and durations. The internet was not of much help, but he had figured he could skirt around the non-sorcerer dosage; a sorcerer, albeit old, could surely survive a few milligrammes more.
Risky but oh-so rewarding. Because the old man in front of him had all but fallen silent, looking uncomfortable in a way Gojo had never witnessed before. It satisfied some kind of desire that Gojo wanted to not acknowledge, but he kept on looking with intrigue.
“..Are you okay, principal?” Miwa sounded worried.
Gakuganji inhaled, deep and raspy. He gave her a curt nod, composing his expression, trying not to look embarrassed.
“It’s about time for us to leave.”
Oh god, even his voice sounded meek and puzzled. Gojo congratulated himself.
“I don’t think so. We’re not done here; you just cost me a student. You think I’m just gonna let it slide?” Gojo spoke, barely keeping the excitement out of his tone.
“He was Sukuna’s vessel, not a regular student. He was not a person.”
Itadori Yuji was alive. Safe and sound in Gojo’s basement, protected by a barrier Gojo put up himself.
But that knowledge wasn’t enough to keep the venom away from Gojo’s voice. “Not a person?”
Gakuganji pursed his lips and made no effort to answer the warning Gojo was laying out. Gojo couldn’t tell whether it was from the clear discomfort he was in or simply because he had grown a brain cell for once.
Gojo sat back, humming as he slung his arm across the sofa and savoured the stiffness etched into the old man’s face. It was hard to read him, and Gojo expected that. But even so, there was the way his breath quickened, the way he fidgeted more than usual, clearly wanting to go.
Too bad for him; Gojo wasn’t planning to let that happen.
Mai seemed to be the one who grew peeved with the silent mind games.
“Are we leaving or not?” She asked, giving the principal an irritated look.
“Of course.” Gakuganji’s voice came out rushed and gruff. “I don’t see any point in having this discussion.”
“Of course there is a point.” Gojo chirped. “What? Don’t you know what I want from you? Come on, you’re not that dense.”
Oh god, he wished he could whip his phone out and take a picture just about now. He could see the old man was less focused on his words and more on wondering if he was going to pee himself as soon as he attempted to stand up.
Gakuganji quickly tried to recover by putting on a neutral face again before answering. “What you want is irresponsible and against the rules of Jujutsu society. It’s not in the best inter-”
“The way you old geezers run things isn’t in any sorcerer's best interest, yet here we are.”
“You need to watch what you say, brat.” There was an urgency in his voice, which delighted Gojo to no end.
Gojo sighed and shrugged, crossing his legs. “You view sorcerers as mere tools... you think it’s just me who has a problem with how things are run? I’m not the only one standing against you, and soon enough you’ll see what you’ve been trying to hold back. I doubt your fragile bones can handle it. Oh, and don't even get me started on your weak heart!" He added that last bit with a childish pout, feigning concern.
Another long beat of silence passed by as Gojo fell silent. His mind was thinking back to everything. Every lie he had been told about safety measures, about precautions, about priorities. Truth be told, he wanted to snap the man in front of him in half.
He took a deep breath.
The man in front of him was nothing but a pawn, someone who follows orders and doesn’t question the ones in charge. Gojo wondered if he had ever made any decisions by himself in his 70 long years. But no matter, if all Gakuganji could do was follow orders, then Gojo knew just how to accommodate it.
The old man visibly gulped, trying to calm his bladder down while he focused on his words. “Are you threaten-” Gakuganji’s breath hitched mid-sentence. His eyes widened in shock. Once again, Gojo wished he could take a picture. But there was gonna be time for that later. For now, he was content playing with his meal.
Gojo’s expression never changed, but inside he was positively giddy.
What happened in the room then went unnoticed by the two students. It was only a subtle cursed energy manipulation, of course, and kind of hard for first-year students to spot.
“How dare you?” Gakuganji was seething. He had no trouble feeling it.
Gojo tutted as if shushing a child and then he moved his finger just an inch. He didn’t want to crush the poor old man’s cock after all; he still needed it to function—to the best of its capabilities anyway. “Are you sure?”
Are you sure you want to provoke me?
The unsaid warning didn’t go unnoticed; Gojo could see it in the old man’s face as he contemplated his next move. He was scared, that much was evident. But even more than that, he was humiliated.
There sat Yoshinobu Gakuganji, a respected high-ranking sorcerer 70 years of age. In front of him was the strongest sorcerer of the modern era, who had a tight grip on his cock through cursed technique: lapse blue.
Gakuganji looked like he was about to have a panic attack, his cock was quite literally at the mercy of Gojo Satoru’s finger tips. And on top of that, he had to pee...really badly.