[ bandage ] sender helps bandage up receiver’s wounds ( itadori or satoru maybe?)
sentence meme ( accepting )
Perhaps he had overdone it just a little bit... if the excruciating pounding in his head was any indication. Gojo might have felt as though he’d mastered the use of six-eyes as of recent but it seemed even he had his limits, ones that he was only just finding out. Reasonably so, he supposed, as he laid out upon the uncomfortable and ungiving concrete. It was his fault for pushing himself so hard, and his fault for being so dismissive of Utahime’s help when she’d offered it.
( NOT THAT HE WOULD ADMIT TO THAT PART OUT LOUD ).
Speak of the devil, he briefly thinks as a shadow is cast over his face. It could be no one else but Utahime looking down on him... and witnessing such a pathetic moment. Him, strewn out and bleeding, unable to fix the gash upon his arm as the reversed curse technique focuses on healing the damage done to his brain. THE WORLDS STRONGEST; looking every bit as weak as he felt in this moment. Laughable really, so he laughs.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Gojo says, to himself or to her isn’t exactly known even by him. Despite how strong he was and the image he maintained, sometimes this felt closer to the real him. A God on the brink of disgrace. Gojo keeps his mouth shut ( a cause for concern or a blessing in disguise ) as Utahime takes to his side. The damage done to his arm had started to go numb, the sharp pain in his head overwhelmingly stronger.
She begins her work without comment of her own and for that Gojo finds himself grateful. He had half expected her to rub this moment in his face. He could admit that if the roles were reversed, he probably would have himself. One of many flaws in the pieces that made up his personality... but it was easier to push others away and keep them at a distance with his words. It was the way that he had worked out best.
He contemplates these things silently, the pain in his head easing with each passing minute of the invisible clock of time.
One...
Two...
Three...
Gojo sits up suddenly, nearly knocking heads with Utahime at the proximity and she let’s out an exclamation of annoyance of him doing so without warning. Heavy lids lighten and he opens his eyes to meet her gaze, the edge of his mouth flitting up slightly. He’s not at one hundred percent yet but good enough to not continue to wallow within himself. He glances down to where her hand still rests on his arm, the bandage not quite done up entirely.
“You took so long that I’m feeling better all on my own.” There’s the sharp tongue she and he both know. He waves her off, pulling her work free from his arm and letting it crumple to a bloody heap beside him. The flesh seemingly begins to knit itself back together and within a few short moments all that remains as evidence of his injury is the blood on his skin and clothes. “Next time don’t bother, Utahime. I don’t need your help.”
