The Wind Spirit Realm was nothing like Gojo expected.
Instead of temples and scrolls, it was a sprawling dreamscape of floating islands connected by translucent bridges of wind. Cloud trees hovered above glowing meadows, and skywhales drifted lazily between mountaintops. The sky itself pulsed with an aurora of violet and turquoise, shifting with every gust.
"Okay, I'll admit it," Gojo muttered, squinting up at the sun-bathed cliffs, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. "This place is kinda beautiful."
"Don't act impressed," Arashi said coolly, arms folded in her wind-trimmed cloak. "This is my homeland, not a tourist spot."
Suma sighed, fanning herself. "It's also so humid. My hair's going to frizz."
"That's the spirit pressure," Mizuki noted, eyes scanning the horizon. "This realm is unusually active. The Wind Mother is... awake."
As they crossed the last bridge toward the Wind Nexus—a crystalline temple floating above a roaring vortex of air currents—Gojo casually pulled out a handful of laundry.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Hiyori asked.
"Laundry. You know, adulting. I figured these gusts are like nature's spin cycle."
He clipped socks, boxers, and a few bras to a wire he strung across a sacred wind sculpture.
Arashi turned, horrified. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
"Uh... drying?"
Before anyone could stop him, the wind totem pulsed. A low howl vibrated the ground. The air shimmered.
Then, like a switch flipped in the atmosphere, a howling shriek erupted from the Nexus.
The bras—including Mizuki's embroidered one and a fireproof sports bra Hikami specifically asked him not to touch—spiraled upward.
A vortex burst to life.
Socks, panties, robes, all surged into the sky.
"YOU WOKE HER UP," Arashi screamed.
The Wind Nexus cracked like a glass shell. An ethereal cyclone spiraled into the sky, lined with glowing fabric.
A dozen elder wind spirits appeared from thin air, floating like disapproving clouds.
"The fool has desecrated the sacred spiral!" one thundered.
"Who ties modern underwear to the Totem of Breath?!"
Gojo raised his hand sheepishly. "...I had nowhere else to hang them."
Arashi turned away, face red. "I don't know him."
"To restore balance," another elder proclaimed, "the First Wind Garment must be recovered from the Sky Labyrinth."
Arashi froze. "The... First Wind Garment? The Mythic Bra? I thought that was a legend!"
"It was. Until you brought him here."
---
Moments later, Arashi and Gojo were fitted in wind-glider armor, preparing for takeoff.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she grumbled.
"It'll be fun," Gojo grinned, goggles slipping slightly.
"You started a spirit typhoon with dirty laundry. This isn't a vacation."
They leapt from the launch ledge, wind lifting them with ease. Gojo whooped as they soared between floating cliffs.
Below them, the Sky Labyrinth shimmered—a maze of cloud bridges, spiraling temples, and vortexes that twisted space.
"You sure this thing has a bra in it?" Gojo asked.
"It's said to be the first garment offered to the Wind Mother. It carries her blessing... and her temper."
They dived through tunnels of air, spun around by loops of gusts. Wind spirits hissed past them.
A blast of air clipped Arashi. She lost balance.
"Watch out!" Gojo yelled, grabbing her wrist mid-air.
She slipped further.
"Gotcha!"
Their bodies slammed together in freefall.
Gojo's hand, in a desperate attempt to hold on...
Grabbed her boob.
There was a second of complete silence.
Then:
SLAP.
"YOU ABSOLUTE MORON!"
"I SWEAR I WAS AIMING FOR YOUR SHOULDER!"
They spun out of control, crashing into a cloud tree.
---
It was raining. Sort of.
The cloud tree leaked misty dew. Arashi groaned, leaning against a puffy branch.
Gojo sat nearby, soaked, blinking water from his eyes.
They were quiet for a while.
Arashi finally spoke. "I can't believe you groped me."
"It was a life-or-death situation!"
"So was my dignity."
He looked down, ashamed. "Sorry. I really didn't mean to."
The silence stretched.
Then Arashi huffed. "...You're lucky I don't have lightning powers."
Gojo chuckled softly. "You'd have fried me back there."
Their clothes clung to them. The air was colder now.
He noticed her shivering.
"Here," he said, crawling closer. "Body heat."
"No."
"You're shaking. C'mon."
She reluctantly allowed him to sit close, not quite touching. Just enough.
Minutes passed.
"You're such a pervert," she muttered.
"Yeah. But a warm one."
She smiled faintly, cheeks flushed pink.
"...But maybe I feel safer when I'm with you."
Gojo blinked.
He didn't reply. Just sat beside her, letting the wind rustle through their wet hair.
Above them, the clouds parted slightly, revealing a single glimmer of fabric caught in a floating spire—a white, glowing bra.
The First Wind Garment awaited.
---
To be continued...