@impishsensei ASKED : "okay okay okay really important question here: gay son or thot daughter?"
UTAHIME KNEW SHE SHOULDN’T HAVE PICKED UP THE PHONE ! ! That was why caller ID existed — to prevent this shit from happening. She kept pressing the side button twice, AGAIN AND AGAIN, sending the idiot's call straight into voicemail.
After the eleventh ring, she STOPPED declining them and set it to vibrate. SURELY he would have gotten the hint by —
The phone kept vibrating.
INCOMING CALL : GOJO SATORU. This ANNOYING prick ! ! Give up already ! ! The screen flashed endlessly. Gojo was being so fucking persistent today. With a low growl leaving her lips, she put her phone on silent and went back to grading papers or whatever it was she was doing — she honestly couldn't remember in the moment, her every thought consumed by the neverending calls.
For all his attempts at reaching her, Gojo hadn't left a single text message. Biting her lower lip, concern marked her brows. What if something had happened ? Maybe she should pick up. She checked her messages. Hm. Nothing new from Gojo, which was rather unusual for him — HE BLEW UP HER PHONE DAILY. The last message he'd sent her was in the evening, it was a picture of some dumb dessert he was going to eat, bragging about how hard it was to get and making sure she knew she couldn't have any. She had rolled her eyes, saying she didn't want any.
Her phone screen lit up again.
Utahime exhaled ; she hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath. Shit. The idiot hadn't stopped calling her. What could Gojo possibly want ? How many calls was that ? Twenty. She snatched the buzzing phone and glared at the caller ID. Why was Gojo calling her ? If he needed Utahime, he would've teleported here and brought her with him.
Over TWENTY missed calls.
"Dammit," she muttered, answering it. Dammit ! Dammit ! Dammit ! Concern outweighed her wariness. This better not be ABOUT ANYTHING STUPID I — "What do you want ? !" she tsked, tongue clicking, not bothering with a greeting and cutting straight to the point. Her worry manifested itself in the form of her being ready to leave. She had already put everything away.
At Gojo's question, Utahime stood up, chair scraping back. Her eye twitching. Regret settled in instantly ; SHE NEVER SHOULD'VE ANSWERED.
. . . What the hell did he just ask me ?
"Excuse you ? !" Her voice shrill, teeth practically bared — she banged a hand on her desk, annoyance rolling off of her in waves. The question KNOCKED her clean out of her calm. She could feel her blood pressure rising, anger crawling up her neck and igniting her cheeks with heat. Her grip tightened on the phone. Out of the corner of her eye, Utahime noticed two managers glancing in her direction. She glowered at them irritably, and they quickly went back to doing. . . whatever the hell it was that they were doing.
She puffed and turned away.
"Don't ask me dumb questions, Gojo," she said, her tone warning him she was seconds from hanging up, even as she was trying — THOUGH IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE — to keep her voice leveled. It was simply not possible whenever Gojo was on the other end of the line.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Utahime sighed out loud and shook her head at the audacity. That was such a STUPID thing to ask — most certainly not an important question. If Gojo were in front of her, she would've punched his head for it. She could picture the idiot's face : the little shit-eating grin on his lips, head tilted back like a smug brat, feet lazily propped up on his desk, phone wedged between his shoulder and ear as he slacked off shamelessly.
This was EXACTLY why she should've ignored the call. He had only called to bother her — and he was doing a damn good job of it.
"Stop calling me ! I'm at work !"
