[ When Gojo gets home again that evening, approximately around dinner, he is entirely soaked in blood. He looks as though someone upturned a bucket of it over his head. It's fortunate that they live not too far from the city gates and that the guards there now know Gojo, accustomed to him coming back carrying entire dead animals to be given away as meat, so there hadn't been too much fuss at the gate about the condition he was in and they were still willing to let him back inside the city. It helps, too, that he tends to wear black, so it's not as obvious on the clothed parts of his body, but his white hair is red, drying to rusty brown. He's dried enough to no longer be dripping with it, but he still absolutely looks like a reason for public outcry.
Pausing on his way into the house when he encounters Choso, Gojo flashes him a somewhat-strained smile, teeth white against the red-smeared mess of his face. The two additional eyes on either side of his cheekbones gleam cerulean through red-dyed lashes. He's been hiding those extra eyes, wearing full-face bandages the past week and coming up with excuses about it, but his bandages also got soaked and re-wrapping blood-wet bandaging (and trying to breathe through that?) sounded even worse than actually dealing with the horror of his own face. So those are also a bit of a revelation. ]
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Pausing on his way into the house when he encounters Choso, Gojo flashes him a somewhat-strained smile, teeth white against the red-smeared mess of his face. The two additional eyes on either side of his cheekbones gleam cerulean through red-dyed lashes. He's been hiding those extra eyes, wearing full-face bandages the past week and coming up with excuses about it, but his bandages also got soaked and re-wrapping blood-wet bandaging (and trying to breathe through that?) sounded even worse than actually dealing with the horror of his own face. So those are also a bit of a revelation. ]
It's not mine.
[ Does that make it ... better? ]
I'm gonna ... take a shower.