Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Gojo Satoru fills out the divorce form, he knows it’s over.

The spring of his life, now turned into a cold winter, draws shades of his memories in his sorrowful heart like autumn leaves that flow with the wind, mocking him in a macabre dance. He’s holding back his tears as he puts the pen on the desk and keeps his stamp on his pocket after sealing the kyogi, or rather, the death sentence to his already sunken soul.

She’s there, too. And it hurts, it hurts so much just to look at her and see through her eyes and know that it was all his fault. It hurts to see her sealing the kyogi , too, because he’s sure she hates him; but he loves her so much that he’d rather die than make her unhappy.

And her happiness is not with him.

Today, their marriage is ending. Today, she will no longer be Gojo Utahime. And the whole world falls over his shoulders at the bitterness of this fact, and maybe they’re so young, and maybe he made mistakes but loving her was never one of them. He hopes she knows it too.

Perhaps he will never know, but she wishes they could go back to those days, when the future seemed to be bright and there were just the two of them, and their friends, their youth, their promises.

She loves him, too.

But love seems pointless now.

The attorney reads the whole document mentally and makes sure both parties have agreed on the decision. There’s nothing else to say. Satoru would pick up their son on weekends and would take him to the daycare every Monday morning for Utahime to pick him up after school hours. Nothing will prevent her from graduating college, after all the effort she put into winning another scholarship. That’s how their deal ends. No fights, no arguments; those were things from their past that were no longer useful, not that they had been before. They will manage to raise Kiyoshi without having to show him the worst side of a broken love.

He was only three years old, but was already witnessing the struggles of his parents’ failure.

They were only 23 and 25, but were already drinking the pungent juice left by shattered promises and a love that would never be enough.

Man shall not live by love alone.

They wish they could go back where it all started.

8 years ago.

“Man, this is so fucking boring.”

Satoru rested his legs on the desk as his friend rolled her eyes out of boredom. Shoko threw her head back and yawned, waiting for the bell to ring and Suguru looked at his wristwatch, frowning.

“This is gonna take a while.” the black-haired boy pointed out, looking for a candy between his pockets that Satoru was quick to snatch.

“Mine!”

“Satoru! This is all your fault!” Suguru yelled, the fact that his friend had stolen his candy outraging him more than the fact that the three of them were under detention. “If it wasn’t for your damn pranks we wouldn’t be here.”

“You enjosheed it, Shuguru .” Satoru replied, already chewing on the stolen candy. “ Ishn’t eet, Shoko?”

“Don’t talk to me. I’m here because I’m always with you two, idiots. But I did nothing wrong. Just got caught in the middle.”

“Shoko,” Satoru said, his spiky white hair fluttering with his movements. “You’re so boring sometimes.”

“Fuck off then.” The brown-haired girl said, her voice muffled by an open magazine covering her face now.

“How? We’re in detention.” he teased, making Shoko yawn again. Suguru snorted.

“We should get some sleep since we’re gonna be here until four.”

“Dude, keeping us locked here until afternoon it’s insane and goes against children’s rights. Gonna call the Unicef! My mother will hear about this.”

Suguru frowned, kicking his friend’s chair. “Are you Draco fucking Malfoy?”

Shoko giggled, still under her magazine.

“Looks like him: white haired idiots with mommy issues and a particular taste for playing dumb.”

“Hey!” Satoru pouted, scrunching his face so badly that Shoko wanted to take a pic of him to mock him later. “He was a good guy. Just a little confused.”

“Yeah, sure. Anyway, we need to do something to kill time. Like sleeping or something.” Suguru leaned back, trying to rest, but Satoru stood up from his chair, stretching out.

“Are you trying to trick me into sleep so you guys can fuck?”

“Stop talking shit, Gojo!” the girl was outraged and blushing furiously, but her friend gave no fucks.

“I always find out anyways,” he winked at Shoko behind his dark sunglasses, the same playful and annoying tone in his voice.

Having enough, Shoko jumped from her chair and snatched Satoru’s glasses away to shut him up.

“Shoko! I’m gonna get a headache. Give them back!”

“I don’t care.” she retorts, putting them on. “That’s the only way I can shut your mouth.”

Lazily, Satoru plopped himself down on his chair and closed his eyes, leaving Shoko with the sunglasses that protected him from any strong source of light, due to his photophobia. He knew it never lasted long: she eventually grew bored of them after keeping them for some minutes and always gave them back, so he waited. Yawning, Suguru broke the silence over them.

“So, what are you gonna do with Mei-senpai?”

“Mei? Do what?” Satoru asked, still eye-closed.

“Dude, that woman’s plotting your death, I bet. She won’t forgive you for ditching her and sleeping with other girls.”

Waving a hand dismissively as the sixteen year old brat he was, Satoru laughed.

“I don’t give a fuck, man. Any girl that happens to be with me should feel honored, so Mei should indeed be grateful for that.”

Offended at their chat, Shoko threw his glasses back at him.

“Could you two please stop being so gross? I’m not interested in knowing anything related to Gojo’s sex life at all.” she said, walking to the blocked room door as they kept talking.

“Not like you two haven’t had sex before, Sho.” the blue-eyed boy whispered, glasses back on.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Thanks, buddy.” he replied to her groan, winking again. Suguru just chuckled at them.

“Hey, don’t say that aloud. What if anyone hears us and it reaches her dad’s ears?”

“It won’t happen, bro. But I’ll shut my mouth about it just in case.”

“Thank goodness.” Shoko breathed before the three of them could hear a click in the doorknob. None of the boys had noticed that their friend had been trying to open the door using a small hairpin. “ Voilá. ”

“Whoaaah, Sho. Are we free?” Satoru was the first one to go with her, marveling at his friend’s skills. “Dude you could work as a professional thief. Why are you wasting time studying?”

“Satoru, you always come up with the worst ideas.” Suguru rolled his eyes while Shoko grabbed her stuff to go out. They followed her suit until the three of them were out of the detention classroom.

“What? Ain’t that the truth? By the way, Shoko, why didn’t you do this from the beginning?”

“Because they were watching us until half an hour ago, remember?”

“Oh. You’re right. Thanks anyway.” The trio walked through the empty corridor. It was already past noon so the rest of the students should be already in their respective clubs. “Hey guys, wanna come over to my place? Mom’s abroad so I’ll be alone for a while, again. We can play some Nintendo games and watch movies…”

“I can’t.” Shoko spoke first, still walking.

“Why not?”

“Gotta go to Chem tutorials with a senpai. You know I suck at it and dad asked for a tutor so I’ll be studying all afternoon.”

“Sho, we could help you with that. Didn’t need a senpai.” Suguru’s voice let out a tiny tinge of jealousy that Shoko noticed right away. He was so cute sometimes.

“It’s a girl, no need to worry.” Shoko almost laughed at how worried he had sounded. “Besides, it’s so easy to waste time with you two so being tutored by any of you is a big no.”

“So mean.” Satoru said as they started entering the cafeteria. He was glad that, in spite of the hour, the sun wasn’t particularly bright at this hour of the day, so he didn’t have trouble sitting there until his baseball practice started. “What about you, man?”

Suguru winced at his friend’s question before Shoko said her goodbyes with a kiss on her boyfriend’s lips, leaving them alone.

“Don’t count on me today, I’m sorry.”

“But you have no Archery Club today, what’s the matter then?”

“I’ll wait until Shoko finishes the tutorial and we’ll go home together.”

Annoyed, Satoru stuck his tongue out in disagreement. Because sometimes it was easier to hide what he really felt by just mocking people or just being a disdainful little shit.

Yes. His carefree attitude somehow made it easier for him to pretend that he didn’t care. That loneliness never got the best of him.

Another day alone at home.

He wished his dad was alive. He wished his mom wouldn’t have to leave so often.

“Always the third wheel. I’m sick of you two.”

Suguru raised his hands in defense, letting his dark bang fall on his face.

“You’ll understand when you get yourself a girlfriend.”

“Ha-ha, so funny, yeah. A girlfriend. That shit is not for me. I’m no romantic.”

Smiling, Suguru shook his head, kicking his friend’s calf from behind.

“Dude you owe me a damn candy.” the black-haired boy remarked as Shoko found her place in one of the tables, next to a student they didn’t know.

“Keep wai— Wait, who’s that?” Satoru cut his own speech, now focused on the girl next to Shoko. She looked different, a halo of chastity and properness around her presence that made her stand out among the sumptuous place that was the school cafeteria, making him wonder why they hadn't noticed her before. Her silky, dark hair was tied in two pigtails and her uniform, although not being customized and noteworthy like the rest of the students’, gave her a sense of pride that he could barely withstand from afar.

Clearing his throat, Suguru looked at his friend askance: there was a gleam in Satoru’s eyes he hadn’t seen before as the blue eyes stared at the girl next to Shoko.

“Oh, I see. She’s Iori-senpai, a scholarship girl in her third year.”

“Scholarship?” he uttered, a high pitch in his voice that added an exasperating tone to his mocking voice “Is it edible?”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

Satoru laughed, still in his spot “Her name?” he asked with interest, his hands in his pockets, stretching his neck up as if it could make him have a better look at the pretty girl, struck by her noticeable beauty.

“Utahime. Iori Utahime. But don’t.”

“Don’t what?” The white-haired boy exhorted, a grin on his face as he considered his chances of getting close to that girl.

“Don’t even think about it, Satoru. Iori-senpai is none like the girls you like to mess with.”

Not believing he hadn’t noticed her before, Satoru made his decision: he was determined to know this girl. So he grinned, ever in his annoying fashion, and started walking to Shoko’s table.

“We’ll see about that, bud!”

Suguru covered his face and shook his head, ashamed. There was no way of shackling Gojo Satoru when he wanted to get something.

He’d eventually get his way, one way or another.

Chapter Text

"Shokooooooo!"

Satoru's voice broke through the silence of the two girls as they studied. Throwing an arm over his friend's shoulders with a cocky grin plastered on his lips, he stared at the older girl, whose cute face almost made him lose his cool, leaving him dumbfounded.

"What do you want, Gojo?" Shoko asked bitterly.

"I thought you needed some help but now I see you don't."

"Oh, you don't say, dude!" The short-haired girl's response was so sarcastically sharp that her senpai giggled, covering her mouth.

"I do! Who's the lady here?"

Noticing that their attention was drawn to her, the girl next to Shoko blushed, but did her best to seem unfazed. She obviously knew who her kōhai's friend was: there was no way that Gojo Satoru's name would go unnoticed across the school's surroundings.

Of course he didn't know who she was.

A boy like him wouldn't have noticed a girl like her in a thousand years. This was an utterly different situation.

"Iori Utahime." she said. Utahime couldn't see the moment Shoko sighed in defeat, as if she had just made the biggest mistake in her life. Gojo had already let go of her.

"Whoah, a princess! I see. I had never seen you around before, Your Highness ."

Utahime frowned, knowing he was mocking her. And that was something she wouldn't allow in a million times.

"There's no need to call me that, as long as you respect me as your senior."

Obviously surprised by her response, Satoru arched an eyebrow. Any other girl —Shoko didn't count as a girl— senpai or not, would have given in at first glance, but this one…

This one was being bold beyond comprehension.

"You know who I am?"

Shoko took her hands to her head. None of them noticed.

Utahime knew it was best to lie. As far as she had seen, this boy was just a full-of-himself little shit.

"Shoko's friend?"

He snorted, not believing her words.

"You live in a cave or something?"

"Nope."

"I'm afraid you do, otherwise you'd know who's talking to you."

"And who's supposed to be talking to me, may I know?" Utahime was quiet most of the time, but this brat here was making her lose her temper.

"Pfffft. Of course none other than the Great Gojo Satoru himself. A virtuoso pianist. An A student, already a member of the school’s baseball team and I’m only a freshman. The heir to the Gojo family. The descendant of Sugawara no Michizane, also known as the man after whom this school is named. Does it ring a bell? I bet it does."

Utahime's blood boiled in rage, but she kept her composure. What a little shit, his mouth is bigger than himself.

"I'm afraid not."

Satoru chuckled, almost in despair.

"You're unbelievable, baby girl."

"COULD YOU NOT—" she puffed, trying to remain calm. Utahime was always a self-aware girl, so she lowered her voice when she knew she was screaming. "Could you not call me that? I'm the senpai here."

"I can call you whatever I want, babe."

Gojo looked so smug that Utahime felt this was the first time she wanted to gouge someone's eyes out. Shoko had never seen her senpai so enraged, white knuckles and the veins in her fists popping out under her skin. She knew she had to do something if Suguru didn't come to the rescue and took Gojo away.

Actually —she guessed— there was a big chance that he was having a good time while watching their boy-girl quarrel.

Feeling the need to fuel her further, he pulled on one of her pigtails, loosening half of her hair as the strip that tied it ended up in his fingers.

"RESPECT YOUR SENIORS!" The black-haired girl's hair—half tied, half undone—bounced over her shoulders when she stood upright, the fire of challenge glowing in her eyes. She didn't care about the fact that this Gojo boy was way taller than her, or that she had to stretch her neck and look up to glare at him through the dark of his sunglasses.

The gush of blue fluttering that flashed across her body when she saw the color of his eyes was nothing she could describe.

“Who says so? You?” he looked down at her, now over the edge of his glasses, focusing on the honeyed beauty in the girl’s eyes. His hand held a tight grip on the strip that had tied her hair.

“Does it make you happy to be a disrespectful, frivolous, spoiled brat?”

With his hands in his pockets and eyes still on hers, Gojo shrugged. “Yeah, maybe.”

His response only made Utahime’s rage grow worse.

“Well then. It wouldn’t be bad to learn one thing or two about decency and manners, because clearly you don’t have any.”

Suguru was right.

This girl wasn’t like any of the girls he liked to mess with. Actually, she wasn’t like any girl he had met before. Only Shoko could match her, but again, Shoko didn’t count as a girl for him.

This Utahime girl was a challenge herself.

One he didn’t see coming. Not even in his best fantasies.

Her words erased the grin on his lips: no one had talked to him so dauntlessly before except for his friends. And Utahime guessed that he clearly didn’t have anyone who could teach him about manners.

“You say so?”

“I say so.”

“Well, we have a problem with that, because I don’t feel like respecting you. Maybe if you were a little bit taller, a little less cute, I would think about it; but a tiny bird like you has no right to boss me around.”

Utahime hissed, blood rising to her face.

“I swear to God, I'm going to take your eyes out.”

“No way,” he scoffed, “You look weak. I bet you don’t have the guts—”

"Oh, you think I don’t? Well, shit. Try me then."

“Well guys, it’s enough.” Shoko said, standing in the middle, her hands on each of their shoulders to break them up; she was startled, abashed even, being this the first time she witnessed her two friends be so… Out of their lines. Utahime had lost her properness. Satoru… Well, his pride was beyond hurt. She was going to kill Suguru as well for not helping at all.

“You’re right, Shoko. I don’t have time to deal with brats.” her senpai said, quickly picking up her things before leaving, never losing eye contact with the boy as a sign of defiance. If looks could kill, he would have died then and there.

“I’ll make sure you’ll have to deal with me from now on, Your Highness .” he bowed ceremoniously and melodramatically, pulling a growl out of her throat that made him cackle.

“I’ll make sure I won’t have to, you idiot.”

She was so mad, so mad that such a handsome face could be this irritating.

He was so, so outraged that this tiny, cute, beautiful girl could have the guts to defy him. 

The dice rolled, and with it casting fate.

Like some sort of chemical reaction, this was a turning point in their lives, one they could never return back from, the machinery of destiny working its magic on two lonely young souls as they made their way into adulthood before sealing them together for a lifetime.

An omen.

Because fate, after all, was a fickle child.

As he was being driven home from school, Suguru thought he was a lucky boy. That’s how he felt; that’s what Satoru thought. Yeah, Gojo Satoru, his menace of a friend, according to most kids at school and a certain senpai. Well, he wasn’t really a menace when you got to know him better; his friend was just… A very lonely boy.

That’s why Suguru knew he was lucky or, beyond that, he was blessed.

He thought about everything that had happened in his life until now. About his parents, both of them alive, both of them loving him beyond words. Whenever he got home after school, his mom was always waiting for him with a tasty meal cooked by herself, instead of hiring a chef or a maid like other families of their social status did. And he loved that. He loved the smell of homemade food, his mom’s kisses, his dad’s smiles and hugs. Mr. and Mrs. Geto were proud of their son, of the young man they were raising, of the kind-hearted and well-mannered adult he would be in the future.

Even though Suguru knew what poverty was, his parents had been lucky enough in the past to win the lottery and invest in the stock market, more than five years ago. A stroke of luck Mr. Geto Haruhiro happened to have after so many tries, after so many years of poorly paid jobs, days of hunger, unemployment and the guilt of not being a good provider in his family that took him to the verge of suicide.

That’s how Suguru spent his childhood, but he never complained, not even once. And when the whims of fate knocked at their door for good, he already knew how to appreciate the small things in life. None of them went to bed without thanking for their food, or saying goodnight to each other. They had taught him how to be a good friend, a good person; to never belittle others for what they owned, to never act like most kids did in their social circle, where money and looks were everything.

That’s why, when he first met Gojo Satoru back in middle school, things didn’t go well for both of them. Suguru disliked Satoru for being blunt and disrespectful; Satoru despised Suguru for being polite and thorough. Polite, perfect and BLEEEECH , in Satoru’s opinion, something that quickly earned him a punch in the guts that very day when they met outside school at Suguru’s request.

But things didn’t end there. At his twelve, Gojo Satoru was no quitter and he already knew how to strike a blow. Suguru didn’t mind what the other kids said about this white-haired brat, though; he had his pride, he had to protect his honor. No one would dare to insult him like this and get away with it.

‘ Don’t mess with him, he’s THE Gojo Satoru,’ they said. But he never cared about who he was. ‘ Who fucking asked? ’ Suguru would answer, waiting for the next punch, ‘ he disrespected me and he’s gonna pay for it.’ Not that Satoru cared, asking with a mocking smile: ' who the fuck are you anyway? I’m the fucking owner of this place ', starting a fight after Suguru spat back: ‘own my balls then!’ that got their classmates forming a circle around them and betting on who the winner would be . 

“Fight, fight, fight, fight!” The children’s chants had filled the school’s front garden as they met blow for blow to one another, the sole memory making Suguru smile as he remembered their first fight. He was so enraged at Satoru. People like that guy had made his family suffer before they got lucky with money, so he had no patience for assholes like him at that time.

None of them thought this even clash would lead them to a strong friendship when Satoru started respecting his bravery for being the first kid who could meet him in a fist fight, punching and kicking until they were both spent, ripped uniforms, bruised faces, bleeding noses and sudden laughter.

Soon, his chuckles turned into a soft smile when all the memories filled his mind, because he had surely mistaken his friend as just another run-of-the-mill rich guy, only to find out later that he was wrong, and Satoru was so much more than he appeared though, wondering if Iori-senpai would be able to see through the real him, or if she would fall for the cocky, arrogant facade his friend liked to show everyone.

Shaken out of his thoughts as he arrived home, the family driver opened the car door for him and Suguru bowed before going inside. Compared to Shoko’s and Satoru's house, the Geto household was a modest one, but enough for his family who already had been through the worst. Suguru’s house was still big, its architecture relying more on the Japanese traditionals, cozy and warm to keep memory of the things they had before wealth came to them and reminder of where they came from.

“ Tadaima! ” He said, walking inside and taking his shoes off in the genkan before his mother could scold him.

" Okaeri , my son." his mother greeted him as he walked inside, holding out his hands. “You hungry, baby?”

Rolling his eyes, Suguru chuckled.

“Yes, mom. I’m hungry. But don’t call me baby.”

Geto Fujiko smiled, kissing her son’s forehead. She had to step on her tiptoes to do that. “You’ll always be my baby. Guess what I did for lunch.”

“What?” her son asked, leaving his backpack on the kitchen counter.

“ Zaru soba , your favorite.” The sixteen year old boy smiled, fisting his hand in joy. His mom smiled. “So go and wash your hands before it’s ready.”

“Not yet?”

“No. I have to heat it up first. Go, go. I’ll let you know.”

“Okay. Where’s Dad?”

“He’ll be here soon. We’ll visit your grandma tonight.”

“Fine, fine. Be right back, mom.”

As his mother nodded, he went up the stairs to change his clothes and call Shoko in the meantime.

“Hello?” her voice said from the other side of the line, bringing a cheeky smile to his lips.

“Hi, beautiful. You okay?”

“ Yeah. You?”

“Never better. How did the tutorial go?” his chuckle made her clench her teeth and he could almost hear it through the phone.

“ Suguru, you should have stopped him! Uta-senpai was so mad after what he did that we couldn’t finish .”

“Hey, I did nothing wrong. You can study with me, by the way.”

“ No, I can’t. You two never let me study .”

Suguru laughed out loud, knowing she was deadpaning, or pouting, even.

“I promise I’ll be better.”

“ That’s what you always say, but you let Gojo carry you away in the end. You’re insufferable too .”

The boy choked a sigh, overdoing some strangled noise that made her finally laugh.

“Oh, you’re hurting me.” He could hear her giggles at his words through the phone, those that made his heart flutter since the first day he met her. But suddenly, her chuckles stopped, and Suguru could catch the sound of new steps getting in her room.

“Who you’re talking to, Shoko?” the male voice asked, making her clear her throat.

“I’m- This is Utahime-senpai. We’re talking about the Chem test but we’re done now. ” there was a rustling sound that made the boy guess she was moving, until he heard her voice again. “ Thank you so much, Senpai. See you at school tomorrow .”

Only the broken beep of the phone was all he could hear now, knowing the call had ended.

Suguru’s heart shrank a little, wondering if, to her dad’s eyes, he’d be good enough for Shoko someday.

***

“Are you sure it was Utahime-senpai the one you were talking to?”

Her father’s voice was ripped, imposing, startling her every time he entered her bedroom without knocking at the door.

Shoko cleared her throat again before answering.

“Yes, dad. Who else would it be?”

Her dad sat on her bed’s edge, taking a look at her school bag.

“I don’t know. Maybe a boy?”

“What? N-No. You know I’m too young for that.”

Her dad smiled, caressing her chocolate hair.

“Princess, I’m not against you having a boyfriend as long as it’s just a fling. I know you’re a beautiful young lady and every young man for sure has a crush on you at school, but I don’t want anything to get in the way of your career as a doctor, and a boy could be quite troublesome for that.”

“Yes… I know.”

“Especially if that kid… the Geto son, is involved.”

Shoko tried her best to keep a straight face as his name was mentioned, along with the implications in it. Her dad would never see the sorrow in her heart.

“He’s my friend, dad. I don’t know why you hate him that much. Just a friend as good as Gojo.”

Doctor Ieiri snorted.

“I don’t hate him, Princess. But I’ve seen before the way he looks at you and even if his family has the means now, well… They will never be like us, do you understand? Our circles run differently and you should be with someone at your level, like Satoru-kun.”

“Dad, he’s like a brother. I’ve known him since we were… One? Two years old? And he’s an annoying little shit. Anyway, I have to study. Chem test this week.” Shoko stressed, fingers tapping on her Chemistry textbook.

“Fine,” her dad stood up from her bed, always in his sempiternal pristine demeanor. 40 year-old Doctor Ieiri Shuhei was a respectable surgeon, his medical center one of the most famous in Japan; gallantry was always painted on his face, and his perfectly combed dark hair and imposing bearing made him every woman’s dream.

Shoko knew her father wasn’t mean, but she knew him well enough to acknowledge that he wasn’t either the type to take unacceptable behavior —like her recently discovered proclivity for smoking to relieve the stress he put her under— much less low scores, reacting very much accordingly and scolding her in a calm voice, but always with firmness. She was aware that her father never said anything he didn’t mean.

And that was the scariest part about him.

Her relationship with him was always a distant one, due to his strictness. Shoko always had whatever she wanted and asked for as a child, but Dr. Ieiri never let rules aside. Her bedtime, meals and study time were always inflexible and there was no way he would bend, accustomed to rules and schedules as a doctor.

He was still her hero, nonetheless.

She admired him beyond words.

“By the way, my child, is this senpai of yours a good tutor?”

Shoko’s eyes seemed to glow at his question, even if she was afraid of her dad’s reaction when he found out about Utahime’s background.

“She is, dad. She’s been helping me a lot for the last month and made me understand what I never could with my teachers.”

“I see,” he uttered, pleased. “What’s her surname, may I know?”

“Umm… Iori.”

“Iori? I’ve never heard about her family. Sounds religious, though. Where does her father come from? What’s their family company?”

“Dad… I — I don’t think they own a company. Utahime-senpai is a scholarship student.”

Dr. Ieiri raised an eyebrow, always in his dignified expression.

“Oh. Scholarship student? That’s odd. I had no knowledge about this happening at the Academy. But I bet she’s a good student, isn’t she? Otherwise she wouldn’t be tutoring you.”

“Yes. She got the best grades in her former school and won the scholarship to study with us.”

“Hmm,” her father snorted, still shocked at his daughter’s news but never showing his emotions entirely. “Interesting concept. Still, I’m glad that you have found a good tutor in her. She has my respect for helping you in your path to become a respectable doctor. That’s something I will never forget. Why don’t you have her over? I would like to meet that smart young lady and thank her personally.”

“For real, dad?”

“Of course, Princess. This Friday night. I’ll be home before evening.”

Shoko smiled, feeling the urge to hug him.

But she backed out as soon as he ironed his shirt collar, letting her know he didn’t want to look messy by any means.

“Thanks. I’ll let her know.”

“Good. Don’t wait for me tonight, baby. I’ll be busy with a surgery. See you tomorrow.”

“See you, dad.”

Instead of studying when her dad left, she lay back on her bed, her eyes on the tiny universe painted in the white ceiling, short brown hair spreading all over her pillows.

Thinking of her childhood days, her mind recalled when she and Suguru first met. Gojo had insulted him, starting a fight that ended in punches and bruises here and there. She even told them that she'd be back when they were done killing each other, only to find them both laughing at their stupid brawl.

She wasn't able to take her eyes off of Suguru since then, amazed at his strength, his perfect black hair and perfect manners. He was so self assured, that no money or status meant anything to him because, for Suguru, it was all about honor. She thought he was a fraud at first, but he proved her wrong. He did it when he didn’t give a shit about Gojo’s name, meeting him fist to fist, blow for blow. She loved that he knew exactly who he was, even though the other kids at school said his family was “new money”. Suguru always let it roll off him, his contempt for those who took their titles and status too seriously a well known thing. He was handsome and earned people’s respect until they were attracted into his bubble without even realizing it.

There, nuzzling in bed, she chuckled, recalling the day she joked about him being magnetic enough to be a cult leader. Suguru had inched close to her face, enough to make her feel his soft breath on her face as they brushed noses, asking if she would be one of his loyal followers. She had smirked, very much accepting his flirting, closing the small gap between them, brushing her lips with his.

‘Wouldn’t you love that? But I wouldn’t make it easy for you, ’ had been her answer before he could kiss her for the first time, while their mutual, white-haired friend gagged in the background with weird, strangled noises, eventually getting bored of their stupid love nest until he was out of sight.

Shoko wondered what her dad would do if someday he found out about her relationship with Suguru. He wasn’t a bad man after all, maybe he’d scold her and give her a lecture about social classes, but nothing beyond repair. Someday, she’d get him to know her boyfriend; someday, her dad would see the amazing young man he was. 

***

“ Bocchan , dinner is ready. Gojo-sama is waiting for you in the dining room.”

His servant’s voice made him raise his head to the source of the sound. Satoru had been playing Chopin Études in his Steinway baby grand until the maid knocked at his door.

“Mother’s here?” The boy asked, making his fingers stop, melodies slowly dying under his fingers.

“Yes, bocchan. She just came from her business trip.”

He jumped straight from the piano stool in the music room and rushed to meet his mother, after four long months of not seeing each other, due to business deals in Shanghai. Satoru ran out of his room, sliding down the polished stairs handrail until he made it to the hall and walked to the dining room, where his mom was waiting for him.

There was no hug, no welcome kiss when he arrived there. Only beautiful, sharp and green, snake-like eyes on him and not a smile in sight, matching the barren atmosphere in the Gojo household. Her pristine white hair was perfectly coiffed as always, and her expensive and immaculate yukata talked about wealth and power, even in front of her son.

Gojo Kaede’s cold and unapproachable demeanor was unbreakable, no matter who was in front of her. As the head of the Gojo clan after her husband’s death, poise and arrogance were the aura that surrounded her, making everyone around feel petty under her shadow.

“Chopin?” she asked. He could say she had been delighted at the sound coming from the music room created by his fingers. Satoru nodded, somewhat hopeful, somehow waiting for words of encouragement and praise at his talent.

However, those words never came. Not even when she was pleased.

“Hello, mother.” he greeted her, any attempt of a hug already crushed under her cold gaze.

“Sit down, my son, and tell me how have you been.”

As she talked, the servants were ordered to serve dinner with a soft movement of her hand.

“I’m… Good. What can I say after all those months of being here alone in this huge ass house?”

His mother glared at him with such ferocity that he almost felt small in his seat.

“Is this how you welcome your mother, Satoru? You’ve become so brash and I won’t accept such behavior.”

He returned that same glare at her, defeated, but still strong enough to harden his heart against her.

“Well, what kind of mother doesn’t even call her son in months?”

A glass of wine was poured next to her hand and she took a sip, as graciously and ceremoniously as ever.

“Sentimentality is not good for a future businessman like you. So behave as is expected of you. The heir of the Gojo family has no need to be pampered, Satoru. You need to be steel willed instead.”

“I’m sick of it,” he mumbled, as his dinner was served in front of him.

“What did you just say?” Mrs. Gojo prompted him to answer, even when she had heard him well.

“I’m sick of it. I’m sick of all that family business shit and I wish my dad was alive.”

“Well, your father does more good dead than alive. Don’t you ever dare to use that kind of language on me or in this house again. Behave accordingly. You’re a gentleman, not a commoner.” There was ice in her green eyes as she spoke, wrinkling her nose as if she just smelled something rotten.

“I don’t give a fuck. And don’t talk about dad like that again, mother. Or I won’t forgive you.”

“Don’t ever talk to me like this again, Satoru.” her voice was austere, devoid of any warmth, of the warmth that was expected of a mother to her child. But Gojo Kaede had none of this. She took her chopsticks calmly to start eating when her son banged on the table. “Don’t push your luck with me.”

“Or what? What would you do to me that you haven’t done already? You’re never here! I haven't heard from you in months! Could it be something worse than that?”

Taking a bite of her food, immovable as a rock, Mrs. Gojo wiped her mouth with the table napkin before speaking again. She wasn’t looking at her son, setting a distance between them.

“Do you think I can’t ground you or punish you? I always know what you’re up to, Satoru. I got a call from school and they told me you’ve been acting up more than usual, so stop embarrassing the Gojo name—your father’s name—and start acting like the future head of the clan if you love him as much as you boast about.”

There was no feeling, no act that could put an end to her coldness. Any effort he tried to make was going to be pointless, and Satoru just sighed, deeply hurt, but knowing that nothing could be done to appease his mother's stoned heart.

"Didn't you miss me at all, mother?" he spurted, very much against himself. He didn’t really mean to ask, it was just his heart pouring unwillingly through his vocal chords.

Without looking at her son, but taking another bite instead, Gojo Kaede spoke again.

“I have no time to miss you, Satoru. There are more important things than feelings.”

Overwhelmed by his mother’s heartless words, Satoru gulped hard. He knew there was no love that could kiss the scars he hid from others, that there was no comfort beyond sadness. Mother wouldn’t apologize, not even if he begged. Having accepted his place in this so-called family long ago, all he did was stand up, food untouched, not a word before leaving, although his mother demanded not to be left talking alone.

If she never listened, he wouldn’t, either.

Once he stepped in his big room, the door was closed with a thud. Loss and a painful sense of confusion turned into a bubbling anger that itched in his hands until he kicked and punched the big TV screen on the wall, smashing it to smithereens until the floor was covered with hundreds of pieces of glass, almost breaking even the autographed bat that he got from a famous baseball player after attending a match, and even his PC. Satoru hated the silence that came after that; he hated his own home. There wasn’t a single tear in his eyes, but in his soul, a deluge of rain always threatened to trickle through.

He never let it out, though.

“Clean and change it all when he’s done,” he couldn’t hear the words his mother said to the servants when she noticed all the fuss upstairs. She knew he got a streak for violence sometimes, every time they had an argument; but she was good at ignoring it because—in her words—violence was always better than sentimental weakling.

In his solitude, sitting on the floor with his back to the bed’s side drawers, Satoru wondered what he had done wrong. Things were so different when he was a child, when dad was alive. He could even call her mommy and it didn’t seem to bother her…

That, until Papa died, and laughter stopped; weekend treats and piggyback rides fading with his spirit as he mourned him. Winter arrived at the Gojo household like an icy serenade, love crackling underfoot, hardening his mother’s heart. And he asked the heavens why Suguru’s mother seemed to love him more than his own. Why Mrs. Geto always greeted him with a kiss, but Kaede wasn’t able to do that. He didn’t cry anymore, though; instead, he sulked, self-soothing himself while staring through the window as he imagined he was a bird.

Because birds could fly wherever they wanted, leaving seasons behind as they danced the ballad of the eventide.

Satoru chuckled, feeling relieved that no one from school could see through the real him and know the cold hell he went through. Only his two best friends knew him well enough, and he was glad they never talked about it, making it easier for him. Or maybe not.

Ignoring his bleeding knuckles after blasting his own expensive TV, the white-haired boy took off his school uniform. His shirt was used to wipe away the thin threads of blood in his hands before emptying his pockets, dazed when he saw something that didn’t belong to him tangled between his fingers.

It was a ribbon. A white one.

And he remembered: a tiny, cute and grumpy senpai with pigtails in her hair. The only girl who had defied him against all odds; something that no girl had done before her. Looking at it, Satoru smirked, recalling her face, her alluring honeyed eyes and the cute frown she made while yelling at him.

There was a strange drift of thoughts and feelings as he recalled the previous events of the day. He even wondered how her life might be. Where did she come from and why hadn't he seen her around at school until now. 

He started wondering why the fuck she was plaguing his mind.

Getting out of his funk with the girl’s face engraved in his brains, he slumped onto his bed, thinking of all the ways he could come up with to rile her up from now on. He would do anything to see her again.

Unaware of this fact, Gojo Satoru smiled wholeheartedly, never expecting the existence of someone that could get his heart out of its cage.

***

When her neighbors gossiped as she walked home, Utahime just let it roll right off her back. She knew what they said, there was no need to hear it. How could a poor girl like her wear such a uniform? It seemed to be expensive, from an expensive school for rich kids. She lived in Sanya, and no child from Sanya could afford to study in the Sugawara International Academy for Gifted Youngsters.

Her mom must be a prostitute, they said. She always got home late at night, but not even an escort could pay for a school like that one.

It still hurt, but she never said a word. Instead, Utahime smiled with the sweetest smile a 18 year old girl could show, and greeted her neighbors before entering her house: a humble, almost rundown apartment on the second floor of an old building near the seafood store; all her mother could pay for after her grandma’s death.

Taking her shoes off in the genkan, she closed the door and rushed to her small room, quickly changing her clothes. She always tried to keep her uniform in the best state: it was her only one, so costly that she would have to stop eating and save money for at least five months straight to buy a new one. Her only saving grace was to keep it as neat as possible, wrapping it on plastic when not in use, even when she knew it looked a little worn after a while. It was Wednesday; it should be used for two more days before leaving it to rest.

But none of it mattered to her. She still felt lucky; even if she had nothing, she had managed to win a scholarship. Even if she was poor, she had been enrolled at one of the best schools around the country and she was already the best student in her class. Nothing could get in the way of her efforts, and she thought about this every morning to cheer herself up, just like she was doing now when she found an empty home, no trace of her mom inside. Again.

Today marked two weeks since she wasn’t home.

Sighing, Utahime got into the small space they called kitchen and made some soba noodles to ease her rumbling tummy. Dutifully, she washed the dishes and cleaned her house before doing her homework, even if sometimes she struggled with English. But she had learned how to manage: half her classes were taught in this language, and she had been born with a prodigious ear that got her into the school choir since her first year of high school. In this, she was so skilled she outclassed her classmates. She was good at music and languages, and those were few of the things she could feel proud of herself for.

There was a loud thud coming from the front door as she hummed a song when getting ready for bed. It was late evening, past 10 p.m. and nothing good could come from that. So she grabbed a knife —not that it was the first time, since she lived in a shady neighborhood—and walked behind the door, waiting for it to be opened.

Slurred giggles got through the door sweep, making Utahime’s heart drop.

Mom was home.

“ Please, send her away. Please, just for now. I’m so tired. Please, I don’t want to deal with her today ,” she prayed to all the gods before her mother could enter, but none of them seemed to hear her pleas.

Utahime was on her own. As always.

Iori Setsuko was coming home after two weeks of leaving her child alone, hanging from a stranger’s neck as he dragged her upstairs to get her inside. She was drunk to the core, her daughter could say, and laughing with the stranger. But even if he was with her own mother, Utahime never let go of the knife. Much to her luck, he ran away, panicked, when he saw the weapon in the girl’s hands after dropping the intoxicated woman to the floor.

Stumbling in, Setsuko brushed Utahime off when the girl tried to help her. She didn’t take her shoes off, she never cared about that.

“Where have you been, mom? I was worried…”

The woman cackled, fogging her daughter’s nose with her intoxicated breath. She didn’t see her gagging at the smell, leaving the knife where she took it from.

“Aaaah, Utahime. My always so perfect Utahime. Don’t you get sick of questioning me?” Among her drunk slurring, she laughed again. “Every time I come home, you’re always here. Nag, nag, nag. You’re worse than my mother, for fuck’s sake!”

“Please get up,” the girl said, still trying to help her and ignoring her grumbles. “I’ll take you to bed.”

“Shhhh! Leave me the fuck alone! You think I can’t go to bed on my own? You think I’m some stupid, miserable human being that can’t even walk to bed on her own?”

“You’re drunk. Please help yourself a little — ”

“I’m not fucking drunk!” Setsuko tripped on a small chair in the middle and leaned against the wooden wall. “I was just happy but you ruined it! Ruined it as always just because you think you are better than me, than your own mother!”

“Mom —”

“Let go of me and shut the fuck up! I don’t need you at all to go to bed and instead of being there looking down on me, bring me something to eat. I’m starving.”

Unable to walk on her own, the black haired woman stumbled until she fell on her knees, vainly trying to stand on her feet again. Despite it all, Utahime rushed to help her, ignoring her insults and not having much trouble picking her up since Setsuko was a small, light woman who used to drink more than what she ate; very much unlike her daughter who, amidst all odds, knew how to stay healthy.

At least working as a waitress on weekends gave Utahime some freedom to take care of herself sometimes.

As her daughter took her to her room, Setsuko huffed, laughing and singing and hanging from Utahime’s shoulders. Due to high levels of alcohol in her blood, her mind was more than a little gone, almost detached from her reality, liquor switching off the best parts of her brain… If she ever had one.

“Someday I’ll fucking leave and I won’t come back, Utahime. Do you understand me?” Her daughter only nodded, too busy with her to care. “I’m sick of this shitty house. I’m sick of this miserable life and I’m sick of you.”

Even when words stung like prickles in her heart, the girl left her on the bed and went to the kitchen, bringing a soba bowl on a tray to feed her. The woman would never say it, but it was the best meal she had had in months. Her senses betrayed her, though, when a sigh of relief escaped her lungs after the first bite.

“At least there’s something you can do well other than scold me, kid.” The mother spat, a thread of saliva leaking down the corner of her mouth. Utahime never said a word, never fought back; she only waited patiently until Setsuko was done so she could go to bed. It was too late and there was school tomorrow. She always had to wake up early to take the first train to school in Yokohama from the Sanya neighborhood, or she’d be late. And one of the things Utahime despised the most was the lack of punctuality.

When the woman finished, the girl wiped off her mouth with a napkin, but her mother grabbed her by the wrist before she could leave.

“What?” Utahime asked “Need something?”

Setsuko hissed, shaking her head. She must have had a headache or something, Utahime guessed.

“Look at me,” her mother insisted, not letting her go yet. Suddenly, her drunken eyes were full of tears. If there was rage or sadness in them, that was something her daughter would never know. “I wanna see his eyes before sleeping, so I can dream of him.”

And thus, Utahime understood. It was all she got from her dad.

His big, honey eyes.

A gift, or maybe her biggest ordeal. It was the only thing her mom liked to see from her, staring deeply into them until she realized who was in front of her, the brief love stare quickly turning into disdain, just like she did now.

Holding back a sob, Setsuko let go of her daughter’s hand, tucking herself in the blankets as disappointment filled her intoxicated expression.

“It’d be easier if you had never existed, you know… You… You have no idea of what you did to me, stupid brat.”

The woman closed her eyes, and she wouldn’t open them again until late in the morning.

With every sharp thorn her mother threw at her, Utahime’s heart broke a little more, her vulnerable self shattering as the last bonds of love evanesced and her soul came to terms with the most real of pains. But Setsuko never saw her cry or leave her side, because she didn’t care.

Always weeping silently, she opened her little window in her bedroom and looked up at the sky, wishing for a better life, telling herself to keep striving for her dreams as tears silently fell down her face.

"I wonder how easier my life would be if it was anything like...” Blue eyes showed up in her mind, a cocky smirk, angelic white hair “If it was anything like Gojo Satoru's. How lucky he is." She said to no one but the moon. Because the moon, ever in her dappled beauty, didn’t judge her or belittled her. She just listened until Utahime cried herself to sleep, as the girl wished that someday, maybe someday, her mom could love her. Maybe someday, her life could be any different.

And even if the moon was no wish maker, at least she could lull her, among the night serenade of a star-filled sky.

Chapter Text

Principal Yaga wasn’t a conventional teacher. And it was an odd stance for such a traditional school as the Sugawara International Academy for Gifted Youngsters.

Yaga Masamichi was a stern and thoughtful man who valued not only the love for learning but the need to help kids build confidence above all. He didn’t care about status, money or names, even though he was the headmaster of an elite school. Every student knew him personally, and even when some parents didn’t agree with his teaching or detention methods, no one could deny that the school was at its best since he had started leading it. He was the role model for the school staff and students, and his endless patience and strong moral center were the fuel that allowed him to deal with the Gojo family and their youngest offspring and only heir: Gojo Satoru.

Actually, Principal Yaga was the only force that could keep Satoru at bay, who was always spoiled and treated like a prince because most teachers were afraid of his powerful family. But Yaga sensei was no such teacher, scolding and sending him and his friends to detention whenever he needed to, not caring if only Satoru—as usual—had caused the fuss. Shoko and Suguru were punished equally if they were caught in the middle. Because it was always the three of them, and Yaga sensei made no exceptions.

But this exactly was what made Gojo Satoru respect the headmaster as the authority figure he lacked in his life. The boy never replied back, fulfilling his punishment with no complaints, something that no teacher could achieve, especially when he was, effortlessly, the best student of his class, his only Achilles heel being a zero in Behavior.

Oh, and also in Home Economics. Satoru sucked at it.

Sometimes, he was even smacked for his shenanigans. And Suguru as well. Admittedly, Shoko always got away with it for being a girl, but she never escaped detention unless she had, well, an ace up her sleeve, most of times leaving her two friends alone while suffering the consequences.

She was even shocked that no one had found out about the stink bombs Satoru had left in the teacher’s room, but it must be due to Sugawara no Michizane’s anniversary that got all the staff and students busy the whole day. When the student body—from elementary to high school—was called to the school’s very modern main hall, Satoru was already there: a small crowd of kōtōgakkō girls gathered around him to get his autograph as if he was some sort of superstar. His friends could say from afar that he was amused with the attention, flashing his cheeky, cocky grin at them as the ladies seemed to pass out at his presence.

Satoru loved the attention, and Suguru and Shoko couldn’t help rolling their eyes when catching the scene.

“Ladies and gentlemen, today we’ve been called here to celebrate the birth of an important figure to our school: Sugawara no Michizane,” Principal Yaga talked through the mic from the platform, shutting them all up with his strong, authoritative voice. “As all of you might know, our beloved school has been named after this prominent scholar from the Heian Period of our country, so we are more than pleased to honor him with a speech told by his descendant and first year student: Gojo Satoru.”

The mass burst out in cheers and whistles as the boy walked to the platform, smugness in his face when going up the stairs, enjoying all the collective hysteria. All the high school girls were the most enthusiastic ones; most of them wanted to date him, even one or two boys. Everyone would have given their all to spend at least a day with him, to be his date or befriend him. Well, almost all of them, except for one.

A certain third year senpai that sat at the back of the hall where no one could notice her or her slightly worn uniform, a standard one because customizing it at her whim like the rest of her students was too expensive to dream of. She just witnessed the whole scene frowning, refusing to acknowledge Gojo Satoru’s appeal because he would never put his eyes on someone like her but, first and foremost, because she had decided that she already hated him after their argument in the cafeteria in front of Shoko.

He was so annoying, so obnoxious, so full of himself. An idiot. Mama’s little boy. And oh, his eyes. He looked like a damn white furby with dark glasses. Yes. He was a furby. That was how Utahime was going to call him from then on.

As the furby started talking through the mic, she wrinkled her nose and squinted her eyes, looking at him from afar. She didn’t care about him. She wasn't like the other girls and she had things way more important to think about than thinking of that white-haired critter whose mouth was bigger than his brain.

When he finished his speech, she grunted at the girls’ screams when he started going down the platform. He was no celebrity, but he was treated as such, even had a fanclub and all that shit.

“SATORU KUUUUUUUUUN!” The girls screamed, almost agonizingly. “WE LOVE YOOOOOOOOUUUUUU!” 

“Okay, enough,” Principal Yaga said as Satoru waved his hands at them, the same cocky smirk on his lips. “Go to your seat, Satoru-kun. I want you to behave.” The headmaster told him, a warning look in his eyes. The ceremony continued after Satoru went to his former spot with his two best friends, this time with a poetry performance in charge of elementary students that got the seniors bored. Not that they liked this kind of event, but it was better than being in class. As it went on, Satoru’s fanclub was dismissed by the appearance of another senpai, a third year silver-haired girl with cat-like eyes, whose cool and demeanor made her a threat for every girl, as well as their source of envy.

Almost every high schooler girl wanted to be like Mei-senpai.

She was the Queen Bee to some, Evil Incarnated to others. Nonetheless, she still came from one of the wealthiest families in Japan, of Chinese ancestry and heavy influences in both countries, and many admired her as such. She was bitchy, kind of cunty, with a flair for causing trouble just because she found it amusing. Her father’s pride. If Gojo Satoru was the heir to the throne, well, she could only be considered as nothing else than the heiress, her father and Satoru’s mother being business associates for longer than they could remember.

With a lusty kiss to Satoru’s lips that caught him off guard, Mei sat next to him. It was a relief for him that most of the students and teachers were focused on the performances as they walked around, or Mei would have gotten him into big trouble.

“What are you doing, Mei? Are you fucking crazy?” Satoru snapped, wiping her kiss off his lips with the back of his hand. She bit her lip in return, quite proud of her actions.

“Nope. I just came to say hello to my favorite trophy boy. By the way, what an amazing fanclub you have. You could easily become a J-pop star.”

“I thought we were clear, Mei. We aren’t shit. What if Yaga-sensei catches us?”

“Us?” she laughed out loud. Thank goodness, Satoru thought, there was music resounding through the loudspeakers in the hall as a group of kids danced on the platform. “I’m never caught, babe. You are, because you’re loud.”

“C’mon. Fuck off. I’m not in the mood to deal with you today.”

“Oh shit, you’re gonna make me cry, baby boy.” she said, faking a pout. Her arm was resting on his shoulder now.

“Mei, I thought I had been clear. Don’t make a scene here.”

“Or what? You’re gonna console me? I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Satoru, Yaga sensei is coming here. He’s gonna put us in detention if you keep talking,” Suguru warned his friend before he could say anything else. But they were interrupted by another voice, an unfamiliar, new one they had seen before but they weren’t even acquaintances with. This girl belonged to Gojo’s fan club, and Shoko didn’t like her at all. Her name was Kimura Nanako, a second grade high-schooler that was about to perform with the school choir.

“Satoru-kun, would you sign my notebook, please?” She said, stretching her arm out to him, trying to give him puppy eyes as the boy looked at her with a grin and a disdainful expression. He knew very well why Shoko didn’t like her. Nanako feared someone like Mei, but despised people like Suguru.

“Why would I do that?” Satoru said, playing the bad boy. It entertained him, to tell the truth: having random girls to come at him as if he was a celebrity. Leaning on his chair, he waited for an answer. His friends rolled their eyes and Mei only giggled, watching the girl put on such an undignified display.

“For luck. I’m about to sing!”

“Satoru, Yaga-sensei is coming…” 

“Since when is your houseboy allowed to speak in front of his masters, Satoru-kun?” Nanako’s voice was spiteful, with a tinge of pleasure that made Satoru frown.

“Excuse me?” Suguru said, forgetting the fact that Yaga-sensei was coming closer. Something must have distracted him because he never came.

“Hold on, Suguru,” Satoru pushed him aside, a murderous glare aiming at Nanako. “Who do you think you are to talk to my friend like that?” he asked her, almost yelling. She only gave him a fake sorry look in return, never expecting Satoru to react like that. None of them noticed the moment when Shoko stood up from her chair to stand up behind Nanako.

With a smirk, Mei watched the whole scene, quite amused.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Satoru-kun. But someone like him doesn’t have the right to talk to me so casually.”

“What the hell are you talking about, girl?!” As Satoru spoke, Suguru curled his hands in fists, trying to stay in line.

“C’mon, Satoru. She isn’t worth it. Let’s go.”

Nanako felt so outraged that a boy of her circle had just rejected her that her words came out full of venom against Suguru. She was one of these people that thought she was royalty just because she came from a rich family and this gave her the right to look down on those who didn’t come from wealth—or weren’t born in it. She thought of herself as lower than Mei or Gojo, but superior to Geto.

“I respect your courage to talk to me, I might admit. But it doesn’t mean I approve of it. Look: it doesn’t matter what you have now, you’ll never be one of us. I don’t even understand why Satoru-kun hangs out with you, honestly. You’re new money, and new money is nothing else than scum, all of you parvenus,” in the middle of her speech, she wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know how they can call themselves your friends and stand your cheap take-out food you insist on bringing here every day.” She sighed, the boys doing their best to not punch her in the face. “You’re just a charity case.”

For Suguru, that was the last straw: his mom’s food being insulted. The food she made for him out of love.

His mom had been insulted.

And there was no power on Earth that could stop him from defending her honor and his love for her.

He started seeing red from all the blood boiling in his veins as his friend spoke again.

“Hey you! What the fuck are y—”

“Gojo, leave it to me.” Shoko suddenly said, knowing that they would never fight a girl. She would be the one instead, despite her calm self and her proclivity for avoiding problems and fights. Slowly and unhurriedly, she leaned her arm on Nanako’s shoulder and went up to her face, who was already startled at the brown-haired girl’s boldness. “I don’t know why the fuck you insist on acting like you’re better than anyone here. Do you think I don’t know who you are, Nanako-chan?”

The older girl’s eyes widened and she gasped, not believing her eyes and ears. Shoko was never close to her, and few people in school dared to talk to her so casually like her junior was doing now. The shortest girl continued, pulling on her light-brown ponytail.

“Would you like the entire school to find out that you’re born from an affair?” Seeing the shock in Nanako’s face, Shoko laughed, a cynical wide smile and an unknown expression drawn in her small, innocent face. Not even the boys were expecting that turn of tables. “You thought your dirty little secret was safe? You know, my dad treats all your family, so he knows lots of secrets from every person in this high society you love so much and like to boast about. And he let me in on this little secret of yours, and also told me not to hang out with people like you, born from dirty sluts who had an affair with married men, just like your father.”

Shaking in rage, devoid of her girly, classy demeanor, Kimura Nanako tried to fight back. “Shut the fuck up, you—”

“Or what,” Shoko warned, grabbing the collar of the girl’s uniform harshly. Mei couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore as she watched the scene like a comedy movie. “Insult Suguru one more time and I’ll let the whole world know where you come from, you stupid bitch.”

Impassive, Shoko crossed her arms on her chest, pride oozing through her body. Without the girl on her shoulder, Kimura stepped back, trembling in rage and leaving for them a poisonous glare.

She swore to herself they would pay for this humiliation, one way or another. And she really, really meant it. But if she was really honest, she would never dare to lay a hand on any of them; she didn’t have the guts, and none of them would allow it either.

Ieiri Shoko was normally a peaceful person, minding only her business, something far away from being confrontational. She often ran away whenever Suguru and Satoru fought, so both her friends were stunned into silence now, never expecting her to be so savage. But Nanako had chosen to be her boyfriend’s enemy, and she decided that someone needed to stand out and remind her of her place, even when Shoko herself didn’t care about other’s families. But this had to come to an end.

This was the first time that this girl had tried to belittle Suguru in front of them, but this wasn’t the first time they had seen someone making an attempt to mock him, often calling him ‘the new one’ in a derogatory way, reminding him every time that he would always be ‘new money’ for the people in their social circle.

At least for those who thought exactly like this girl.

“Ah,” Mei sighed, having the time of her life. The silver-haired girl stood up, stretching out so elegantly that she didn’t seem to be stretching out at all. Like the queen Bee she was, grace and style were her middle names. “It’s always fun to find you three. You guys always make me have a good time.”

Suguru rolled his eyes, standing up too. The trio was leaving as well.

“Yeah, whatever.” Satoru said, but before he could move away, Mei got closer, and her mouth reached his ear.

“Our conversation isn’t done yet, Gojo.”

“It—”

Mei was gone before the boy could finish. His friend dragged him away and Shoko took the lead on their way to the gymnasium’s mezzanine, quickly forgetting about Mei.

“Shoko, man!” Satoru exclaimed after their senpai left, shaking his friend by her shoulders. “That was so goddamn brutal!”

The three of them felt the urge to leave the hall, going upstairs to hide in the mezzanine, away from Yaga’s sight and the rest of the teachers. Pleased with herself, Shoko hopped all the way to the seats, hand in hand with Suguru while chewing on a bubble gum. Satoru grinned at his friend, and Suguru tried not to smile, even when he was astounded at her behavior. But also upset, above all.

“Satoru is right. You shut her mouth like forever.”

“Well, that’s what she deserves for being a bitch to you,” Shoko said, pecking his cheek. Sometimes she could seem like a carefree and nonchalant girl, so the moments when she showed true happiness and cheerfulness were especially dearest to the boys.

“But not to me?” Satoru asked, pretending to be hurt, a hand on his chest. Shoko stuck her tongue out.

“I did it for you too, you idiot.” she said, not noticing how Suguru bit his lip when staring at her. Satoru had taken a seat in one of the longchairs, stretching himself throughout three of them. Looking at the hall’s platform from his spot, he could hear his friend’s chat, and cringed.

“What?” Shoko asked, catching her boyfriend’s stare.

“Nothing. You just turned me on. That was quite hot.”

Satoru could hear the smooching behind him and when he turned around to yell something at them to stop, they were already making out in a corner of the mezzanine, almost unable to restrain themselves.

“Oh shit. Not this again. You know what, you damn horny fuckers? I’m the fuck out!” As soon as he plopped on the three longchairs, he straightened up ready to leave. But Suguru managed to talk, with Shoko’s lips still on his.

“Satoru, don’t leave! You can keep an eye at the door while we are busy!”

“Fuck you, Suguru!”

“I’m trying to do that!” Shoko replied shamelessly, as Suguru laughed in her tongue. Satoru gagged, rushing to leave the mezzanine in no time.

“I'd rather die than hear what you two sound like so I’m leaving. You two are a match made in hell!” the white-haired boy cringed in disgust, on his way to the door. But something caught his attention halfway, as his ears opened to the sweet sound of a solo sung by a girl in the choir’s performance.

He jumped to the handrail to have a better look of the source of the voice. He never expected what his eyes saw.

It was the girl with the pigtails. The scrappy senpai, whose ribbon had been found in his pockets the day before. Utahime.

No wonder why she had such a beautiful name.

It was the first time Satoru felt like in heaven, forgetting the noise of his friends’ kisses behind him.

Like the Sirens enticed the sailors, her voice dragged him downstairs, his friends long forgotten. Her chant was endearing, feeling a cathartic kinship that guided his steps until he was, again, in front of the platform, a huge smile on his lips as her melody brought into key with the vibrations of his now unsettled heart.

She felt like a healing balm, beckoning him to listen until the song stopped. As if the music running inside his veins and the melodies that tickled under his fingers when he played the piano had finally found their match.

He didn’t know it yet, though. He just… Felt it.

When the polyphony and its soloist came to an end, Satoru’s clapping was the loudest among the remaining students in the hall, most of them leaving to take a look at the other cultural performances around the school.

“That was beautiful, Utahime!” He screamed, startling her. The girl was shocked, he could see, blushing at the compliment before he could speak again as her choirmates started coming down the platform; Nanako among them, but she had been long forgotten already. “Who knew a girl like you could sing like an angel! I wouldn’t have guessed it from yesterday when you clawed at me like a stray cat!”

He laughed at his own words jokingly, but she couldn’t find the fun in them, absolutely sure that he was mocking her.

"Shut up! Don't call my name so casually, you rude brat."

“Rude brat? You serious?” he spurted, feeling outraged. “I was complimenting you! You’re the rude one!" 

Utahime huffed. “Like I'd believe that you meant it.” She started walking away, hugging her sheet music folder to her chest and getting rid of the blush in her cheeks quickly.

She never expected to see him come after her.

“Hey, hey, hey, I did mean it! I'm serious! That was really good! Where are you going?"

“Why do you care? Leave me alone!" She yelled, walking faster. And his legs were so annoyingly long that he kept walking right behind her.

“Utahimeee! C'mon, don't be like this! What if I just want to be your friend?”

Turning around, Utahime raised an eyebrow. “First of all: Why would you want to be friends with me?”

He shrugged, his hands in his pockets, leaving one out.

“Dunno. It’s interesting to know you can sing.” Satoru started unwrapping a candy to chew on it right away as he spoke. She was about to answer, but he didn’t give her the chance. “And second of all?”

She sighed, curling her hands in fists.

“Second of all: use honorifics, you little shit! I’m the senpai here!”

If he was chewing dramatically on his candies to be extremely irritating or it was just his way of doing it, Utahime couldn’t say. But she absolutely wanted to punch his face for being so infuriating.

“I told you just yesterday that’s impossible,” he emphasized as they both started walking again. “I don’t feel like respecting someone shorter than me.”

Glaring at him from below, Utahime stopped walking and hissed.

“Well, I don’t feel like being friends with someone as obnoxious and disrespectful as you. So stay away from me!”

She tried to leave, stomping. But Gojo Satoru’s legs were longer, and faster, easily catching up with her.

If Utahime could have seen the way some students were looking at them while whispering, she would have run away immediately.

“What?” he yelled, swallowing his candy. “I’m handsome, rich and smart. Are you stupid? Everyone would love to be friends with me!”

He seemed to be shocked at her choice. All Utahime did was groan.

“I’m not everyone! And stop insulting me or I’ll make you pay for that.”

He couldn’t believe her.

How could a girl like her exist? 

“You’re being the rude brat now. What about that?”

“I’m not—”

“Of course you are. You just threatened me.” He looked at her above his dark glasses, and Utahime gulped, as the prey being chased by the predator. The blue of his eyes was fathomless, unnerving, almost knee-weakening.

She fought back the urge to gasp under his unwavering stare.

“Leave me alone.”

“Or what?” he mocked her, pulling on one of her pigtails. Utahime shrieked, grinding her teeth. “You should apologize to me, instead.”

“Like hell I would do that!”

“Okay, you were asking for it,” Hastily, Satoru snatched her folder away from her hands and held it above his head where she couldn’t take it.

“Hey, give that back!” No matter how high she jumped, she’d never get it. He was… really tall. Or maybe, she was just too short.

“I won’t, until you apologize to me.”

“Stop being so annoying and give my stuff back, Gojo Satoru!”

He chuckled, never letting his arm down. She looked so cute, pretty, like an angry kitten. In a brief whim, he felt like drifting down on her and biting her cheek, but he was also one hundred percent sure that she would slap the shit out of him if he ever dared to do that.

He didn’t realize it, but a part of him was starting to feel irredeemably attracted to this fierce, loud-mouthed girl, all his previous intentions of just playing with her and the novelty she was, already fading.

He had never seen someone like her before. He found this girl to be not only attractive and cute, but warm and fiery.

“Nah-ah. I told you: not until you apologize.”

“Fuck it. I’m gonna—”

“What’s happening here?” Yaga-sensei’s voice startled them both before Utahime could crash her fist against Gojo’s stomach. The principal’s sudden appearance made her clear her throat and come back to her senses, while her junior just grinned at him as if they were playing.

“Sensei, please. I’m asking him to give my folder back but he refuses.” She was the first to speak, showing Gojo up. The boy frowned, never expecting that turn of tables, his hand still in the air. His shit-eating grin had disappeared.

“Satoru, would you mind explaining?” their teacher asked.

“Sensei! She’s lying! I took her folder but only because she doesn’t want to apologize!”

Yaga’s shocked expression shifted to the girl.

“Iori-san?”

She gasped, outraged, her eyes opened wide.

“I— It’s not like that, sensei! I just…”

“You told me you were gonna make me pay for trying to be your friend,” Satoru rushed to explain. “Sensei, she’s supposed to be my senpai, but she’s not acting as one. So I took her folder to make her apologize to me.”

“What? I—”

“Iori-san, is that true?” the principal was becoming suspicious, Satoru could say. But he was happy he could take advantage of the situation and put this girl in her place.

“Well, technically I—”

“See? She’s not denying it. She owes me an apology!”

Arching an eyebrow and seeing Utahime’s struggle to say a word, Yaga cleared his throat. It was the first time he caught the third-year girl in the middle of something shady, so it was hard for him to believe she was the mastermind behind Satoru’s acts. Well, she basically was, but not in the way the boy wanted him to believe.

It must be him. But as long as the girl remained silent, there was nothing he could do.

“Iori-san, please apologize to Satoru.”

She wouldn’t argue with her elders. She was too respectful for that.

Much to her displeasure, she bowed slightly in front of her white-haired junior.

“I’m sorry. I won’t do that again. Please, give my folder back.”

“See? It wasn’t that hard—”

“Satoru! Give it back now,” with Yaga’s commandment, there was nothing else to say or do. Even frowning, Satoru had to do what his teacher said. Utahime took her folder and bowed again, this time to thank the principal. “You can leave now, Iori-san.”

She didn’t take long to obey. But mumbling and swearing to herself she was going to make Gojo Satoru pay for the humiliation, Utahime flipped the bird at Gojo before leaving. She would plot her revenge on the way to the classroom. And there was nothing he could do, because Yaga’s attention was on him now that the girl was gone.

She didn’t notice how some students looked at her open-mouthed, never expecting to see the always proper, prim and low-profile senpai acting so out of her line, much less interacting with Gojo Satoru himself.

“Satoru! Look at me and leave her alone!” The principal said, catching sight of how his student wasn’t able to take his eyes off the girl.

“Yes, Sir!” the boy yelled with a military salute, making some students giggle.

“And come with me. There are some stink bombs we need to talk about. It’s a wonder that Ieiri and Geto aren’t around.”

Oh shit. He had found out.

Well, at least many teachers would be covered in red smoke for sure. And the thought was hilarious as Satoru followed the principal out of the hall.

Another day in detention. His mother wouldn’t be pleased at all. Well, he didn’t give a shit about Mother.

There was something— a girl —more important now.

Chapter Text

Open-mouthed, Utahime got out of the Ieiri family car that Friday afternoon to visit her friend, just as Shoko had asked her to do, both of them coming from school right after lunch time. And she had never witnessed such luxury before.

The place was immense, immaculate, grounds on the property as big as the public parks she went to sometimes. The early afternoon sun soaked its exterior into a golden light, the clean front promising comfort within. Stairs rose to the entrance of the house, and its graphite gray walls gave a sense of power and wealth that made the girl shiver. Trees protected the surroundings, and a huge, charming front garden welcomed them as the car made its way to the porch. It was nothing like anything Utahime had ever seen, only in movies.

“Shoko-sama, okaeri .” A middle-aged woman said as the girls made their entrance indoors. Utahime had to fight the urge to open her eyes in amazement: if the exteriors had astonished her, well, the insides had left her breathless.

She couldn’t believe Shoko was this rich.

She couldn’t believe there were people this rich.

The sight made Utahime swallow hard. She was aware of her classmates’ wealth, but eyewitnessing this firsthand was something totally off the wall.

“Oh, Ichika-san. Is dad home?” Shoko asked. Both of them took their shoes off in the entryway and wore slippers before the youngest girl made her way through the hall with Utahime following her. The housekeeper nodded.

“Yes. Ieiri-sensei is busy in the library and asked me to let him know when you got home. I will go tell him.”

“Good. Tell him that my friend Utahime is here too.”

Ichika-san bowed before going upstairs. Utahime felt nervous, shaking her foot and fiddling with the edge of her dark blue uniform jacket. Holding her arm, Shoko made sure to reassure her. But her dad was already coming before she could say a thing.

“How was school today, Princess?” Dr. Ieiri asked as he walked on the last step. Utahime was bowing before he could reach them—her pigtails falling in front of her shoulders, her bangs covering her face—, and she could never guess that this wouldn’t give him a good impression, taking her as too subservient for his taste.

He already knew that she didn’t belong to their social circle, but he couldn’t say he was expecting her to look so… Deprived.

Her slightly shabby uniform didn’t help at all, either. But he said nothing about it: this was Shoko’s friend, the girl who had helped his daughter, and he was a gentleman after all. He knew how to be thankful.

Or how to look down on people without being noticed.

Merrily unaware of her dad’s thoughts, Shoko rushed to answer.

“It was fine. Dad, this is my friend, Utahime-senpai.”

He bowed as well, just not as low as the black-haired girl. And his eyebrow arched when she took more than two seconds to straighten up. 

As the girl’s eyes met the doctor’s, she was almost appalled at how much Shoko resembled her dad, except for the mole underneath her right eye, her brown hair and her thick brown eyebrows.

He was indeed handsome.

“Nice to meet you, Utahime-chan. My name is Ieiri Shuhei. Shoko has talked a lot about you, and how much you have helped her with Chemistry and Biology.”

“Pleasure is mine, Sir. I’m glad I can help Shoko.”

“You must be an excellent student.”

Knowing her friend for two months already and her tendency to underestimate herself, Shoko was quick to answer.

“She never gets less than ninety-five, dad. No one can beat her score.”

“I just study a lot, Sir.”

“That’s good to know,” Dr. Ieiri said, the shadow of a slight smile forming at the corner of his mouth. This young lady was polite and well-mannered, at least, and he respected that. “The kind of friends I like for my girl. Feel welcome, Utahime-chan. I’m afraid I won’t be able to have a proper conversation with you until dinner, since I’m busy right now. But I would be pleased to hear more from you, is that alright?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. I’ll see you at dinner. Now If you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do.”

“Okay, dad. See you.” Shoko said, intertwining her arm with Utahime’s as soon as her father turned his back on them to go back upstairs, disappearing in the right corner. The youngest girl took her friend upstairs too, her bedroom being in the west wing of the second floor.

“Hey, your dad is nice.” the black-haired girl mentioned, her impression on rich people changing slightly. Shoko rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, sometimes he’s okay. Come with me.”

Utahime had to blink to believe what she saw when they got into Shoko's room. It was even bigger than her own home. She could easily stuff all her belongings here and there would still be a lot of space left. It was easy to feel small, a real nobody, at the sight of all this wealth and comfort, when her own house was nothing else than a dinky square in the second floor of an old building with barely two bedrooms, her own bed hardly fitting in one of them. She was lucky to have a window that led to an alley…

If only that could be called luck.

Outdoor sounds leaked through a big window, mixed with the soporific smell of clean linen and bubblegum that Utahime guessed came from somewhere on the dressing table. Shoko’s canopy bed was dreamlike: silky, clean sheets and lots of pillows perfectly neatened up with a teddy bear in the middle that almost made her laugh because Shoko didn’t seem like the type of girl who would have teddy bears. 

A white board hanging on her north wall had lots of pictures stuck to it, most of them from magazines because, believe it or not, Shoko was a stylish girl. The rest were photos of her with famous people—some of them autographed—and also with her two beloved friends: Suguru and Satoru; a big one in the middle, the three of them together, as the boys pecked a wincing Shoko in both cheeks while squeezing her face.

It had been a funny day, Utahime could say. The trio wore expensive yukatas, and colorful fireworks had sparkled in the background while the moment was being immortalized in the shot that now embellished a spot in her sanctuary. There was a computer below on a classy desk, and she wondered how much it could have cost because not everyone could afford something like that.

An electric guitar and a violin rested in the left corner of her bed, near a big TV, catching Utahime's attention. As Shoko stumbled on her bed with a sigh, her friend ran to the instruments in wonder.

"Wow!" she gasped, pulling on the guitar's strings. "May I?"

"Go ahead. I don't even use it."

Utahime kept talking, sitting on the bed bench when she took the guitar.

"You don't play?"

“Not really,” Shoko said with a sigh. “My dad insisted on making me take lessons and I did for one year, but I don’t like it. Playing instruments is so boring. I prefer listening to people playing, though.”

“I love guitars…”

Utahime bit her tongue before she could let her dreams out of her mind. She wished she could have a guitar, but it wouldn’t be appropriate to say such things to her friend. She never wanted others to feel pity for her.

But before she could pull the first chords out of the strings, Shoko jumped from her bed and took her hand, dragging her to another door inside the dormitory that Utahime misguessed as the bathroom.

“Come with me! I wanna show you something.”

She didn’t know she was wrong until Shoko opened the door. Utahime felt overwhelmed at the size of what her friend called ‘closet’. It was practically another room. Drawers and wardrobe were bigger than any other she had seen before, filled with hanging clothes, coats, hats and scarves. Her junior must have at least 70 pairs of shoes—she almost laughed when recalling her two pairs for school and the one she used at home and her slippers—all of them lined up in at least ten rows. There was a huge shelf crammed with board games, childhood toys, old stuffed animals, boxes with books or maybe CD’s or photo albums, and even sports equipment long forgotten in a clean corner.

When she found the big mirror behind them after tripping on the shoe bench, she couldn’t help feeling really trifling.

She was scum compared to Shoko.

“What do you like here?” Shoko said, oblivious to Utahime’s feelings. With her arms crossed and the weight of her poverty on her shoulders, the senpai bit her lip.

“Everything. I guess,” she whispered, shyly. Shoko made her sit on the bench before taking lots of clothes out of the wardrobe in the wall.

“Come on! Try this!” She insisted, now aware of her hesitance. “I’m sorry if I’m being annoying. It’s just that… I never brought a girl friend home before and I’m happy to have you here, senpai.”

“What? Never?” Utahime asked, half ashamed, half interested. Shoko nodded.

“Never. I don’t get along with other girls. You’re the first one since I was in preschool, I guess.”

“So you’ve never brought friends here?”

“Well, only the boys. You already know them and they’re not that interested in my stuff unless we’re playing video games.”

“I thought you had plenty of friends.”

“Me? For real?”

“Yes. You are popular at school, and your friends too. Everybody wants to be friends with you.”

“Oh,” the youngest girl seemed to be puzzled at the news, arching an eyebrow like her dad used to do. “I don’t think that’s because of me, but Gojo.”

Utahime’s shyness disappeared at the mention of his name. She had rolled her eyes so hard to the point it almost hurt.

“Well, maybe. Shoko, forgive me but I can’t understand why you’re friends with him. He’s so…”

“Really annoying, I know. But he’s a good friend. Contrary to what people might believe, he’s really nothing like he shows to be.”

“Let me doubt it. He hasn’t been nice to me, not even once. And doesn’t respect me, either.”

“Well, the truth is, he respects nobody. But it’s a part of him and once you get used to it, he’s pretty cool.”

Utahime winced in disgust, making Shoko laugh.

“I can’t believe you. Especially not after what he did to me yesterday.”

Shoko moved in front of her to wrap a scarf around her neck and make her wear sunglasses. “I think he’s messing with you because you’re not one of his fangirls.”

“So I need to become one of his fangirls for him to stop pestering me?”

“Kinda,” the brown-haired girl shook her head, taking the hat off her friend’s head. She grabbed a huge and flashy box from her dressing table to open it, revealing a full and expensive set of makeup. “May I?” She asked for Utahime’s permission, and the girl nodded. “I’m just kidding. You don’t need to be his fangirl. But Gojo is not used to someone not giving him attention. So when you told me he said he wanted to be your friend, I think he really meant it.”

“Is he socially constipated or what?”

Shoko shrugged. She had already started to apply makeup on Utahime’s face.

“Something like that. You’ll see: he has always been treated like royalty, so it’s not normal for him when things don’t go as he expects them to be.”

“You’re standing up for him because you’re his friend.”

“You ain’t wrong. But trust me when I say that deep, deep down, he’s a good boy.”

“It doesn’t mean I will forgive him. He’s a brat. And deserves to be punished.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” the youngest girl uttered, waving a hand nonchalantly. “He has spent half of his life in detention.”

“No, no. I’m not talking about detention,” Utahime said as her lips were painted with a cute pastel colored lipstick.

“So? I mean, I’m not against your payback. I think that he needs an… Adjustment.”

Both girls giggled until it turned into chortles. A very foreign sound to the Ieiri household, that most of the time was silent.

“A prank, you mean?” Utahime quizzed, a finger on her mouth.

Suddenly stopping her current activity, Shoko seemed to be quite interested.

“Something that puts him in place once and for all.… A prank.”

“A prank… prank ?”

The youngest girl smirked mischievously.

“A prank prank. But what could it be?”

Thoughtful, the girls narrowed their eyes until one of them had an idea.  It was Utahime. And Shoko couldn’t have laughed harder when she heard it.

“I saw it in a movie.” her senpai said, proud of herself. Shoko cackled even louder, so loud that even her dad was able to hear her through the window, all the way to the library, smiling to himself at the lively sound. Despite his serious demeanor, Dr. Ieiri loved seeing his daughter happy.

“That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard. We need to get ready for next week before the Art class and I’ll tell you where he will be. The only thing I ask from you is to not drag Suguru into it. I don’t want him to suffer the… consequences.”

With a thumbs up and utterly upbeat, Utahime gave her the approval. “Count on me!”

Chortling and howling like ringing bells, Utahime and Shoko surrendered to the gift of their friendship, laughter pure and free, childish, tickling their ears and overflowing the air with an innocent joy as the telltale of their youth. Even when Shoko had always been a little too weird for other girls’ tastes, she already liked Utahime just because this girl genuinely wanted to know her. Maybe she was alone, too, maybe. And Utahime knew that her kohai came off to be a little spacey, but she knew that there was more of her than what it seemed to be.

And this was the way a beautiful sisterhood blossomed, with Shoko’s medical horror stories she had heard from her dad and ancient Japanese legends Utahime had heard from her grandmother. The oldest girl could learn that her friend liked art, writing and fashion magazines more than actually wanting to follow her dad’s steps. The youngest finally knew how beautiful her friend sang, how much she loved singing and dancing, and her wish to be a Music teacher. They tried every outfit in Shoko’s endless closet, taking pictures with a disposable camera to make a collage of their modeling. Letting themselves be young girls around each other, something that seemed to be impossible around others.

Shoko wouldn’t be allowed to behave like this every day. Her dad wouldn’t have approved it.

Utahime could have never experienced what she had today at Shoko’s house. Not with her mother around, not in her situation.

But they were glad they had happened to find one another.

By the time they were called for dinner, a shambolic mess of clothes, scarves and orphaned socks were scattered through the room. They had wiped off their makeup already, but Utahime was concerned about who was going to fix the jumble they had left in the closet.

“Don’t worry. The maid will do it.” Shoko informed her, very much accustomed to that routine of her making a mess and others suffering the consequences. But still, Utahime didn’t move. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s just that… Wouldn’t this be adding more chores to what they normally have? I mean… I’d like to help a little.”

This was the first time Shoko learned about others’ efforts and how to be considerate of her house staff in that regard. She never meant to be rude to them, but she was never taught otherwise.

“It’s okay. I’ll help them later,” she promised after reflecting on her actions, and how different she and her friend saw the world. “But you’re my guest today, so come with me downstairs and let’s have dinner.”

“Okay.”

Dr. Ieiri was already waiting for them at the north end of their long table. Dinner had been served and, as soon as the girls took their seats, one of the maids poured liquid into their glasses: wine for the father and juice for the kids.

Utahime thanked the heavens to herself that they were using chopsticks and not some western cutlery that she was sure she wouldn’t know how to use if it was like in movies. 

“Did you two have a good time?” The doctor asked, taking a sip from his cup before a bite. Their guest waited for them to say ‘itadakimasu’ ; but it never came. “I heard a lot of giggles up there.”

It seemed that rich people weren't thankful for their meals.

“I was telling Utahime-senpai all the stories you’ve told me about the hospital.” Shoko answered, delighted with the taste of food. Her dad tilted his head briefly.

“Oh. So are you interested in any career related to Science, Utahime-chan?”

Swallowing her mouthful, Utahime responded. The talk had begun. She was trying to avoid eating much, afraid of not doing it properly. Dr. Ieiri’s sharp, steel eyes were on her, piercing through her errant, worrying thoughts.

“Well, for a while I thought about becoming a nurse, but that was until I started high school, Sir.”

“And what made you change your mind?”

“I’m good at Science. But I’m better at teaching and Arts. So I want to become a teacher.”

Ieiri Shuhei bowed his head in affirmation. “That’s an honorable profession. Actually, the mother of all professions, so you have all my respect.”

“Thank you very much, Ieiri-sensei.”

“Also, young lady,” he continued, taking another sip. “What does your dad do for a living?”

Utahime’s throat tightened. She never wanted this question to come, but she was ready for that, nonetheless.

“I— Well, he passed away when I was seven, Sir.”

“Oh. My apologies. Cause of death?”

“He… He was struck by a car on his way home… It was my birthday.”

“Oh, senpai. I’m so sorry…” Shoko gasped, suddenly saddened at the news. Her thick eyebrows had arched under the weight of a slight grief at her friend’s loss.

“It’s okay, Shoko. It happened long ago.”

“It’s sad to hear that, but that’s life, dear girl. I wish all doctors could save all lives. But sadly, we can’t.” Dr. Ieiri didn’t seem fazed by the girl’s words. His daughter felt ashamed at the coldness in his expression. And Utahime…

She wasn’t sure how to take his words. All she could do was nod.

“Where do you live?” He went on, noticing that his daughter’s guest wasn’t eating much. As the sharp man he was, he could guess that she was afraid of not eating like a lady. “Is the food not of your liking, darling? We can change your menu in case you don’t like it. So feel free to let us know.”

Embarrassed, the black-haired girl ate, doing her best to remember every etiquette rule she knew and use it now, fully aware that Shoko’s dad was judging her. And she succeeded, leaving the doctor reluctantly impressed.

“The food is perfect, Sir. Thank you.”

“I’m glad. Now, where do you live?”

Utahime wished for something unusual to happen… It never came, though. She was never a liar, she didn’t like to. But sometimes, just sometimes, a lie was better than letting out the raw, unpleasant truth in order to protect yourself.

“I— In Sangenjaya. Fifteen minutes away from the Shibuya station.”

Curling his eyebrow in that sempiternal and barely noticeable disdain of his, Dr. Ieiri kept eating. Sangenjaya wasn’t the worst neighborhood. But it wasn’t the best either.

In Utahime’s opinion, Sangenjaya was a thousand times better than her actual neighborhood, where homeless people and stray pets were the order of the day. Shoko’s dad wouldn’t like to know that she lived in the neighborhood known as the place where desperate souls came to disappear.

“And how much does it take for you to get to school?”

The girl hesitated. She needed to be fast and calculate the actual distance from Shibuya to Yokohama.

“Around… forty minutes, I guess…”

God, please, have mercy and take me out of this . She prayed. She wasn’t good at lying, but sometimes, Utahime was good at pretending.

And this was a good occasion to do so.

“Oh. So you must get up earlier every day.”

“Yes, Sir. Around half past five.”

For the first time in this goddamn long dinner, the doctor seemed pleased.

“See, Shoko?” he suddenly said. Due to the tension, Utahime had forgotten her friend was there. “Your senpai here should be an example to you and teach you the benefits of getting up early. You won’t get anywhere if you keep sleeping until late on weekends and setting ten alarms in the morning before school.”

“I hate waking up, dad.” Shoko said, almost apologizing. Her father snorted, his gaze going back to Utahime.

She felt it coming. That question she feared much. She had spent all the dinner time trying to elaborate an answer for it.

“Fine. So tell me, Utahime-chan, what about your mother? Hope she’s doing fine.”

The girl had that very same wish. But sadly, wishes did not always come true.

“Yes. She is…”

The heaviness of Utahime’s half answer hung in the air like a dark cloud, as Shoko’s father pierced through her soul with his sharp eyes.

“And? What does she do?”

“She… She is a nurse.”

“Oh,” Dr. Ieiri seemed interested. “So you almost followed her steps.”

“Yeah.” The girl hoped her anxiety wasn’t slipping away through her voice.

“Where does she work, then? Maybe I know her but I haven’t heard of any Iori in the healthcare field. What’s her specialty? Her ward?”

Specialty? Ward?

Lies were a survival skill. But as the doctor spoke, Utahime felt this was an ability she lacked, slowly getting into a dead end she wasn’t sure she could go out from.

At least she was a smart girl, and this gave her some credit to think of a proper answer.

“Actually,” she started, clearing her throat. “She works for a nursing agency in Kamakura.”

“Home-visit nursing you mean?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Interesting. What’s the name of the company?”

Think fast, Utahime. Think fast.

Her brain thought quickly about all the nursing agencies she had heard of when her grandmother was alive, until one of them finally rang the bell.

“UBQ Health, if I’m not wrong.” She replied in an almost perfect English that, once again, left the doctor hesitantly dazzled.

“I’ve heard about that one. But I’m not familiar with home-nursing or geriatric fields. Not my specialty.”

“I understand, Sir.” Still feeling in the hot chair, Utahime wanted to breathe her lungs out.

“I would like to meet her. We could have an interesting conversation about healthcare.”

The girl gulped. Luckily, Dr. Ieiri’s eyes had focused on his food again to take another bite.

“I’ll let her know. But she’s always busy; she only gets home on weekends.”

“Tell me about that,” Shoko chipped in, her dinner almost finished. “Dad is barely home.”

This was the first time Utahime saw Shoko’s father genuinely smiling.

“You’ll understand as soon as you become a doctor, Princess,” he remarked. His daughter rolled her eyes as his attention went back to their guest. “Fine, young lady. Will you stay the night with Shoko?”

Shyly, Utahime smiled.

“I would love to, Ieiri-sensei. But I can’t. I have a lot of homework to do.”

Pleased at her words, the doctor nodded.

“Seems like you’re such a responsible girl and I appreciate that. You’ll see, my daughter’s friends are loud and don’t seem interested in studying, especially Gojo Satoru, whom I guess you already know. I like that boy and I’ve known him since his birth, but I wish he was more… diligent. So it’s not bad for Shoko to have friends like you.”

“I’m trying my best, Sir.”

Their chat was longer than Utahime expected, but she could sigh in relief when the food was over and Dr. Ieiri finally took his leave after ordering his driver to take Utahime home. She would be forced to lie again, asking the driver to leave her in front of a decent building in the Sangenjaya neighborhood so he couldn’t see where she really lived. She would fake it, crossing the entrance until the car drove away and getting out, taking a deep breath before starting her 17 minute walk to the Shibuya station to take the train that would lead her home.

She was lucky to have 120 yen in her pocket. The train ticket was around 100.

She would never know that Dr. Ieiri would tell his daughter about buying a new uniform for her that very night. Not because he was kind-hearted, not out of pity, but because he didn’t want his daughter’s friends to look so wretched if this girl was going to be Shoko’s friend. He was fine with that friendship for now, because his daughter would forget about her as soon as Utahime graduated.

Shoko would never know her father’s actual thoughts, for he had secluded her in an invisible bubble where he was perfect, his every act a proof of his kindness and good judgment.

But for now, just for now, Ieiri Shoko was content.

Satoru and Suguru had gone straight to the Geto house after school.

Happy to have her son’s friend here, Fujiko greeted him with a hug and his favorite dessert. Satoru loved her: she was a loving, affectionate woman who valued her loved ones more than anything, something he had never seen in his own home. That's why he always relied on those pretty moments when she gave him all her attention, pampering him with treats and even scolding him when he misbehaved along with Suguru. That Friday afternoon, Satoru had run upstairs after getting a full bowl of homemade ice cream that his friend’s mom had saved for him, knowing he was going to visit them after school.

He loved being here. Especially when his mom wasn’t home.

Suguru… Well, he loved his best friend, but Satoru was too much sometimes, trying to steal his mom from him, making Fujiko laugh at the boys’ shenanigans.

“Hey, my ears are burning. I bet the girls are talking about me.” A small ball bounced off the wall from Satoru’s hands as he spoke, glasses off, head upside-down, hanging on the edge of Suguru’s bed. His friend was playing some vintage video game, sticking his tongue out, utterly focused on the screen.

“Hey!” Satoru insisted, making the ball bounce off his head with a thud. “Are you listening?”

“What? Dude, you’re raving. I bet they have more important things to do than talking about you. And there was no need to throw that shit at me!!” Suguru seemed to be briefly enraged, but he kept playing seamlessly.

“Geez, don’t be so mean. I’m sure that grumpy senpai is asking Shoko things about me. Besides, girls always talk about us when they’re together.”

“Why would she?” the black-haired boy groaned when the monster seemed to attack his avatar, almost screaming. “You have been nothing but mean to her. And even if she is, I bet they’re trashing on you.”

“Man, could you try at least to be a little nicer to your best friend?” Satoru’s ball kept bouncing on the wall.

“No I can’t. You don't know how to respect girls, or rather anyone.” 

“Dude, it’s not my fault they can’t handle honesty!” Satoru said, grumbling. “That senpai… Why does she not like me? She thinks she’s all untouchable and shit and I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t really like me. Is she stupid or something?”

Suguru snorted from his spot on the floor, his game almost finishing since he had lost two lives already. “Keep talking just like that. She’ll never like you.”

“I’ll make her like me!” Satoru yelled, somewhat offended. He had straightened up on the bed. “How did you make Shoko like you when you’re so boring? Does that philosophy shit of yours turn her on for real?”

Pausing his game, Suguru threw his remote at him. But Satoru managed to block it with his arm, laughing.

“You shithead! It’s different with her. I can’t explain it to you because… I… I just look at her sometimes and I feel like…”

With the video game being forgotten, Suguru lay back on a pillow on the tatami floor, looking at the ceiling, with his friend’s big blue eyes focusing on him.

“Feel like what?” he asked, greedily.

“Like I can’t breathe. When she smiles, it’s like I don’t wanna see anything else.” He touched his chest with his right hand. “Something here. It feels so tight when she’s around that I feel like it’s gonna beat out of my chest. Sometimes it’s almost unbearable, I can’t stand it. But at the same time, I’m addicted to it.”

The white-haired boy whistled, staring at him.

“Is that how it feels? What about sex? Is it better that way?”

“Man, are you asking me to give you details about my sex life with Shoko?”

“Fuck no. Not interested. I just… I feel curious about what people call making love. What is it that makes it so amazing? I don’t see the point because I feel nothing. I just cum and that’s all.”

Suguru smiled, looking away. His stomach was tickling already.

“It feels better than anything else in my life. It’s more than sex. It’s a connection, Satoru; and I hope that someday you can understand. It’s like my soul starts dancing along with hers.”

Thinking briefly of the girls he had been with, Satoru realized he never felt like this. Not with Mei, not with these second grade girls or the daughter of his mother’s associate that seemed to blush every time she spotted him. It was always a momentary pleasure, a brief distraction. In reality, he just slept around to feel something; but in the end, there was nothing. In the end, he felt nothing but empty. In the end, it was only loneliness.

Sometimes, Satoru thought that he didn’t really like sex, only the brief moment of an explosive pleasure. He wished he could someday feel what Suguru had experienced already.

Snapping himself out of his thoughts, the blue-eyed boy caught that vulnerable expression on his friend’s face and looked away.

“That’s the corniest shit I’ve ever heard from you, man.”

Grumbling, Suguru jumped from his spot and kicked Satoru’s calf.

“You’re a piece of shit.” He cried, starting a fight that made them laugh in the end, with Suguru’s mom hearing their tussling from outside before getting in the room to call them for dinner.

“Kids, time to eat… Why are you two fighting again?” Her voice made them stop throwing toys and pillows at each other. “You two are going to clean this room after dinner, is it clear?”

“Yes, ma.” Suguru said first. Satoru answered with a military salute that made her laugh.

“Come on with me. Your dad is home, Suguru.”

As the three of them made their way to the kotatsu room, Satoru silently kicked Suguru back in the butt, taking advantage of Fujiko’s presence to avoid his friend from getting his revenge. Suguru pushed him, though, when they entered the room before his mom could see them. Geto Haruhiro was already there, wearing a modest and fresh yukata as he waited for dinner to be served.

“Satoru-kun, you’re here, my boy.” the man said, greeting the kid as he bowed his head with a smile and took a seat next to Suguru’s dad.

“These two were fighting again.” Fujiko said, serving the food right from the smokey portable stove in the middle of the kotatsu.

“I wonder if you two will ever stop tussling.”

“Only if Satoru behaves, dad.” Suguru chipped in, waiting for all the dishes to be full.

“Hey, I always behave!”

“In your dreams!”

“Fight once more and I’ll take that game box away from your room, Suguru.” his mother said, frowning. The dinner was almost fully served.

“No, mom. I promise I’ll behave.”

Satoru chuckled, and his friend snapped his foot’s sole under the kotatsu. But his white-haired friend could do nothing.

“And you, Satoru-chan, eat well.”

All the boy did for an answer was drool at the mouth-watering meal in front of him.

“Itadakimasu!” They all said before starting and, feeling his heart tightening, Satoru wanted to cry for a second.

He missed this. This moment was precious, and his best friend was lucky to live everyday what he couldn’t unless he was here, in the Geto home. He loved when they laughed and joked and Mrs. Geto showed him embarrassing photos of a baby Suguru that made him cackle. He loved hearing stories from Mr. Geto as they ate, and stealing pieces of food from Suguru’s dish to rile him up as Fujiko stopped another skirmish saying that there was more in the pot. 

He loved everything here, because he had parents, and a brother, and homemade meals, laughs and scoldings. Coming here was like coming home in a way that his mother’s house never had, droplets of melancholy leaking through the cracks of his young heart.

“May I have seconds, mama?” Satoru asked, ending his plate in no time, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand like a toddler. Fujiko smiled widely, serving him more. Her biggest happiness was to know that her food was appreciated.

“Eat all you want, Satoru-chan. You need to gain muscles! Why are you so thin?”

“He eats a lot of shit at school, mom.”

“That’s not true!”

“Suguru, don’t use that language when we are eating.” his father said, having his seconds too.

“I’ll send a bento box for you too, Satoru-chan. Suguru will take it to school along with his.”

Happy and smug, Satoru waggled his eyebrows as the woman served him more.

“Thanks, mama.”

“You’re welcome, my dear boy.”

Suguru shook his head.

“You have no shame, man.” the black-haired boy muttered, but his friend’s answer was a cheeky, wide smile as he ate. 

“None.”

“Sometimes I think my parents love you more than they love me.”

“Yeah, that’s because I’m handsome and you’re not.”

Suguru groaned.

“Well, my poor boy was a little ugly when he was born, but it didn’t last long, thank goodness.” Haruhiro commented, making his wife laugh.

“Dad…”

“I’m sorry, my boy. You were ugly before you turned two months old.”

“So I’m right. Suguru is ugly.”

“Ask Shoko and she will tell you who’s ugly.”

“No fair! She’s your girlfriend!”

“Enough, kids. Enough. You two are going to wash the dishes. Satoru-chan, did you like it?” Fujiko spoke, almost done with her dish.

“This was yummy! I’m full and I’ll sleep like a baby tonight.”

“You won’t sleep in my room. Your farts are deadly.” Suguru warned him as his mother picked up the dishes to take them to the kitchen. Haruhiro cackled and stood up from the kotatsu after uttering his gochisosamadeshita .

“Not more than yours.”

“Satoru-kun. We’ll go visit the beach house tomorrow in Yakata. Ask your mother if you can come with us.”

“She’s not home, Haruhiro-san. I can come too.”

“Great. We’ll love to have you there with us. Who wants to watch movies with me?”

“No one.” Fujiko declared as she made her way out of the room. “They have to wash the dishes first. Oh, and clean Suguru’s room as well.”

Suguru’s parents laughed as they saw the boys rushing to the kitchen, keen to finish their chores quickly and watch some movies.

In the warmth of this home, Satoru would surely sleep like a baby.

Chapter Text

With Setsuko away again, Utahime had spent a whole weekend thinking.

Thinking, indeed, of the prank she was going to play on Gojo Satoru. The prank he deserved. She smiled at the sole thought, a spark of mischievousness sprouting out of her like cherry blossoms, tickling her brains, encouraging her usually prudent self to break out of the mold and give in to her puckish whims. It was like discovering a hidden side of her she didn’t know she possessed, one she had forgotten she owned, the expectations making her feel oddly enthusiastic.

The reason behind this discovery: Gojo Satoru himself. And she found this fact as intriguing as it was terrifying.

The other 50 minutes on the train to school in Yokohama didn’t make it any easier for her to stop thinking of it.

There was something, a glimmering enthusiasm reigniting inside her, one she thought dead. Even if she had been a good student all this time since she joined the Academy, she had been forced to hold her head down at school, hyper focused on her studies, staying away from others’ attention as much as she could when she knew she could be a fish among sharks in this new world. A world that would have crushed her down at the sight of something different, at the sight that she was never going to fit in because she was not like them, because a poor girl like her who had happened to win a scholarship in an elite school could never be a part of their circle.

That’s how she saw her spark dying, in the face of so many titans, compelled to portray the image of a quiet girl she surely wasn’t. That part of her that was never taciturn, that never backed down from a fight at her old school, always protecting those who got bullied, going head to head with the oppressors until justice came to her hands. That side of her that she thought was better to keep in the dark in this new school, fading her spirited, stout-hearted self, that made her feel dead inside… Until Gojo Satoru came to the scene.

It was a wonder, she thought on her way to school, how he brought out this side of her. This rash, disrespectful and annoying boy was making her feel that spark again. That urge to fight back against anything, the tickling need she had forgotten after so long of being in the shadows; but she was Iori Utahime and she wouldn’t let anyone push her around. And this boy was going to get a lesson, because he was not the only one who could be funny. She was about to make him see. To take him out of the spotlight.

She would show him she was not afraid to take him on.

School started every day at 8:30 a.m. But Utahime was there half an hour before the bell rang. Classrooms were all empty, giving her time to fill two balloons with the liquid in the cans in the Art room without being noticed. However, she wouldn’t play her prank before the first break, so the girl was careful to hide the balloons in a corner of the school’s radio station: the perfect place to throw anything down the left window without being caught…

Unless she wanted to.

Everything was ready when the rest of the students started arriving. And it was the first time she had spent the whole lessons with her mind anywhere but focused on the teachers’ talk. Utahime couldn't wait. So going to the radio station again was the first thing she did after having her snack and before the break ended, ready to look out the window and down to the first floor, waiting for her victim to cross the location within her range of attack. She was glad that Shoko had already agreed to this and told her where they would be going after break.

“Oh, I gotta go to the library for some books. Would you guys come with me?” Shoko asked, her hand in her boyfriend’s, walking out of the cafeteria. Utahime had already spotted the trio, having a wide view of her surroundings from the station’s window. She couldn’t hear Shoko’s words, but she did see Gojo Satoru’s arms stretching as he walked ahead of his friends, shaking his head no.

“Nah-ah. You two will surely start making out in a corner after asking me to keep an eye out, so no. I don’t like coming to the library with you guys.”

Totally unaware of Shoko’s intentions and Utahime’s plan, Suguru dragged his friend by the arm.

“We won’t take long. We gotta go to gymnastics after this so there’s no time for us to do anything you’re talking about. Let’s go with Shoko and we’ll go all together to the gym right after.”

“Okay, okay, but you’re gonna make me trip.”

Catching sight of Shoko and her friends coming closer, Utahime dropped a paper ball from the window, the sign she needed to take Suguru away from the line of fire. Knowing what was coming ahead, Shoko pulled Suguru by the collar of his jacket and kissed him. Not that she didn’t want to, but this was mostly a distraction to move him apart from Satoru and let the white-haired boy walk alone, relieved that her boyfriend had had the idea to make the boy come with them and thus, cross the path under the station’s window.

A few steps more, and now with Shoko and Suguru out the way and Gojo Satoru stepping right under her range of action, Utahime plopped one balloon—and then a second one—filled with blue painting on his head, both of them exploding spectacularly until he and everything around him was a blue, sloppy mess.

His hair wasn’t white anymore, and drops of blue paint leaked from his head and uniform as he processed what had just happened.

The perfect crime. She had left no traces of her guilt, and her flawless grades and behavior would be the right cover in case Gojo Satoru wanted to accuse her.

Suguru couldn’t believe it, and Shoko almost felt bad for what she was witnessing. After all, Satoru was her best friend too.

Taking his—now blue—glasses off, Satoru looked up, trying to find the source of the attack.

All he could spot was a pigtailed girl giggling from the window above his head before closing the window and running away out of his reach. He gritted his teeth, his hands curling into fists.

“You!” he yelled, losing sight of her. “I’ll find you, Iori Utahime!”

He knew she had let him see her on purpose, this girl was that bold. So, instead of hurrying to wash the paint off him, Satoru took off after her, drawing all eyes to him as he crossed every hall when looking for the girl, leaving blue trails across the floor with every step. He was fast, but he could never find her, not when the school fields were so vast and it was almost time for the gym class, having no other option than to return to his friends as everyone hushed and laughed because the great Gojo Satoru, the heir to the throne, had never looked so funny before. A vein was popping out of his forehead in anger, and Suguru snorted, giggling like a toddler when he and Shoko saw him come back.

“There’s a little friend on my paint, dude… I mean, you got a little paint in you.” he teased, as Satoru let the blue drip down his hair.

“Shut up. She’s gonna pay for this.”

“Who?” his friend asked, oblivious. Suguru didn’t notice that it was Utahime the mastermind behind this prank, along with Shoko’s help.

“Utahime.”

“For real?” Suguru laughed harder when Satoru nodded. “She made you look like a tall ass Smurf.”

“Well, Suguru ain’t wrong. You’re a Smurf.” Shoko's voice sounded with something Satoru couldn't decipher.

“You know what? You two won’t help me at all, so I’m leaving. Tell Ogawa-sensei I’ll be in the shower because I had an accident.”

“You got your period, but in blue.” Suguru joked, having to dodge his friend’s kick. “Let’s go, let’s go!” he said, taking Shoko’s hand to run away with her from Satoru’s attack as they both snickered on their way to the gym.

“What the fuck you looking at!” A defeated Satoru screamed at a group of girls who were still giggling at his wretched state. He dragged his feet to the shower room, muttering profanities under his breath and swearing to himself that he was going to find this girl, one way or another. His murderous look shut up every kid who dared to stare, and when one of the teachers saw him drenched in blue and asked what had happened, all he said was: “an accident”, not knowing quite well why he was protecting his loud-mouthed, sassy senpai from an impending, well-deserved punishment.

As he got under the shower, he thought that—maybe—it was because he wanted to take justice by his own hands… Or wasn’t it? No, it was definitely it. It had to be.

What other reason could lie underneath?

Trying not to delve much into his wandering thoughts, Satoru realized that the blue in his hair wasn’t totally removed after washing his hair when looking at his soaked self in the mirror. His uniform was totally ruined, but he wasn’t worried about that, since he had at least 10 of them and his P.E uniform was safe inside his locker for today’s class, the one he couldn’t attend, so that would be the one he would wear after his bath.

But his hair would worry him instead, stained with that very vague undertone of blue. He would ask for help later, just not now. There was something he wanted to do first.

With his hair still dripping water and eyes uncovered because his dark glasses had been totally destroyed, Gojo Satoru stormed out of the shower room, exposing himself to a strong headache caused by the daylight leaking through every corridor but huffing with a fierce glint in his eyes that haunted his body, his every step in a dangerous aura that repelled every being out of his way even without being touched. He was all lightning bolts, a hurricane, the gathering of gray clouds for a rainfall waiting for its release, making hold their breath to all the students that crossed his path.

He wasn’t sure where he was going. But he was going somewhere. Someone , to be precise.

He didn’t expect to find her in an empty hall on the third floor, but he was more pleased by the coincidence than he could ever be in all his life.

“Iori!” He yelled. Utahime tried to run when she noticed his presence, but he was way faster than her, and taller, and wider. So there was little she could do when he caught her by the waist and hid them both in a corner of the corridor before someone else could walk in.

Why she didn’t ask for help, that was something Satoru couldn’t answer.

“What are you doing!?” she screamed in a hushed voice, right after he put her against the wall, holding her by the wrists. Suddenly, he wasn’t a storm anymore, but his eyes were still gleaming with this azure blaze that threatened to burn her out entirely.

She gulped.

And he felt his throat drying. Her eyes felt like the sun and a black hole at the same time, sucking him into a certain fall, his rage, his thunders and bolts all forgotten.

Satoru growled and chuckled an odd sound that sent her mind spiraling for a second. He was so… alluring. And his scent… Overwhelming.

But he smelled like paint, too. And she almost laughed if it wasn’t for his intense, still enraged stare digging a deep hole into her soul and… Another part of her body she had no intention of thinking much of.

“I caught you. Did you really think you could run away from me forever, Utahime?” she squirmed as he spoke, trying to get away. But the girl thought it wouldn’t do any harm to play along with his game for a brief moment, a devious smirk stretching her thin, bewitching lips.

“I thought blue looked nice on you.”

“Oh, is that so?” He retorted, leaning in closer to her face. He knew what he was doing when he showed his eyes off to her “And Senpai-chan thought she wasn’t gonna pay for what she did?”

“You can’t accuse me. The principal won’t believe you because I don’t have a record in Behavior like you.” She answered, trying to act tough. But Satoru didn’t believe her at all, because he was tougher.

“And who said I was going to do that? You silly girl,” he squeezed her wrist when she squirmed again. “You’re gonna pay me back for what you did today, humiliating me in front of the whole school.”

He got so close to her face that Utahime was left speechless. Nose against nose, the faintly blue hairs of his forehead brushing hers. Her heart started running fast, and there was a small whirlwind inside that made her feel she was about to pass out.

What was this strange feeling? What was this warm, knee-weakening tickle in her guts that made her pant in front of this stupid brat?

She couldn’t talk, not for what seemed a lifetime as he kept his eyes locked in hers.

“What shall be your punishment, huh?” He got even closer, his entire body pressing against hers, his boyish expression enveloping her senses.

“G-Gojo! Don’t— Don’t you dare…”

“Dare? Dare to what? Aren’t we playing games?”

Utahime shivered, pushing his chest with her own body. “You bastard! I’m not one of your girls!”

“Oh no,” he breathed a laugh, his mouth coming close to her ear. “You could never. They would never dare to do what you’ve done.”

The girl gasped, feeling the faint brush of his canines biting her earlobe.

How did he dare? No boy ever had done this to her, this was outrageous, insolent; it hurt, too, but also…

It felt kinda good.

No, no, no. No way! It couldn’t… It wasn’t supposed to feel good… Right? Right!?

What on earth was happening between her legs??

What was this hard thing under his clothes poking against her lower belly?? Was he… Hard? She could barely think and breathe now, almost losing track of her surroundings.

Weirded out, Utahime shoved him away with all her remaining strength and made him laugh.

“What’s wrong with you, you stupid pervert!?” she yelled, blushing madly.

“With me? You were the one who painted me blue. A small bite is nothing, you still owe me one, Utahime.”

“Me? You were the one who started it all!”

“But you did worse, so now you gotta take me out!” His white-light blue hair fell on his forehead and made him look like the bad boy he was, pulling Utahime’s breath out of her lungs.

“What? Take you out?”

“Yes! Show me around and buy me dessert, so I can forgive you. It’s the only way.”

Frowning and with eyes seething in honeyed flames, the girl huffed before stomping away from him.

“Like hell I’ll give you anything.”

She left him and he laughed his ass out after losing track of her downstairs. A weird feeling made him focus his eyes on his pants and, amusingly confused, Satoru gasped and chuckled at the realization of his own hardness. When did it happen? He wasn't sure. But he knew that no girl had ever done this to him before, not this fast.

“What a girl,” he mumbled, changing his way after spotting Yaga at the end of the hall, surely looking for him.

Again.

The rest of the week was all about Utahime trying to keep clear of Gojo. Even when before they barely acknowledged each other’s existence in the same school, now it seemed unavoidable to spot one another in every corner with Satoru being the most interested in finding her throughout the whole building. Only the class periods were the ones where Utahime could be really at peace, but when break and lunch time came, it was always this boy chasing after her.

And to be honest, it kinda freaked her out, never knowing what he had in mind, or where she was going to run into these azure, unnerving and fetching eyes of his.

He was haunting her.

The fact was as thrilling as it was eerie. She could never know what he was really planning.

It was Friday already when she found something unusual inside her locker, before going home. There was a red velvet package inside, with a cute note written in white paper, the handwriting warmly familiar. 

‘ Thank you for everything you’ve done ,’ it said. And frowning in astonishment, Utahime unwrapped it, finding a whole set—winter, summer and athletic—of beautiful and brand new uniforms inside, exactly her size, that made her gasp. Forgetting for a while the uneasiness caused by Gojo Satoru’s very likely and sudden appearance, her eyes watered: the whole bundle must have been around 100.000 yen, an amount she could never afford more than once in a year after working hard to get her school supplies.

It was Shoko. She had no doubt of it.

Wiping her tears away, Utahime was quick to fold it all again, running to find Shoko before everyone left. She waited for her kohai at the very entrance, praying that she wasn’t gone yet, the package in hand, holding onto the strap of her own school bag in an attempt to appease herself.

Catching sight of the brown-haired girl among the outgoing students, Utahime waved at her to draw her attention. And she succeeded, but Shoko was never alone. Actually, it was very rare to spot any of them outside the trio, so kids at school used to call them the Hydra , like the Greek mythology monster.

She should have guessed that.

“Yo, Utahime!” Gojo smirked, being the first head of the snake to approach her, glasses on, hands in pockets. Damned be his height: he leaned over her, blocking the sunlight from her eyes. “So keen to see me, aren’t you?”

“I’m not!” The girl snarled, hiding the bundle behind her back. She was glad that Shoko jumped to the scene right away, saving her from Gojo’s antics. “Shoko! May I talk to you in private?”

The youngest girl pushed her friend aside and took Utahime’s arm, dragging her to a more discreet corner. Students kept leaving, and Suguru stopped Satoru from following the girls with a thud on his head.

“Hey!” He complained, rubbing the spot where his friend had hit him. Frowning, Suguru made sure he stayed next to him by grabbing the back of his shirt collar.

Out of everyone’s sight, Utahime bowed, her arms stretching as she held the bundle tightly in her hands.

“I did nothing to deserve this, Shoko-chan. I’m thankful for this, but I can’t accept it. Please, take it back.”

Shoko sighed, scowling. Utahime couldn’t see her face, but she looked deadly serious, resembling her dad when she raised an eyebrow and held up a hand as her senpai raised her head in tense expectation.

“Don’t. Don’t even thank me for this, Utahime.” Shoko averred, pushing the velvety bundle back to the girl’s hands. “If you think I’ll take it back, then you’re sorely mistaken. That’s a gift from my dad. He wanted to thank you for tutoring me and making me improve my grades. If it wasn’t for you, my dad would have sent me straight to a boarding school in Europe.”

“But, Shoko…”

“Don’t Shoko me, please. I respect you as the senpai you are, but if you keep insisting, I’ll feel outraged.”

Utahime fell silent for a second, not daring to raise her head completely yet.

“This… This is too much…”

“Fine. If you want so much to give it back, then go to my dad.”

Her kohai looked so stern that Utahime almost shivered, being forced to straighten up and look her in the eye, hands already down.

“No. I’m sorry, I’m— It’s just that I’ve never had such a gift before.”

More relaxed now, Shoko gave her a half grin.

“There’s always a first time, isn’t it?” The girl said before she took the bundle in her hands to get it into Utahime’s bag before Gojo could come at them when Suguru couldn’t hold him back anymore. “So now quit being stubborn and come to my house. You can stay the night if you want.”

Her friend was on the verge of tears, Shoko could say. But instead of leaving her alone to embarrass herself by crying, she rubbed her arms, and Utahime couldn’t help hugging her, holding back her sobs.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” She whispered, almost choking her friend. Shoko squeezed her eyes shut at Utahime’s strong embrace.

“My pleasure, senpai.”

Letting go of her, the black-haired girl smiled sweetly.

“Please, don’t call me senpai. Just Utahime.”

Shoko’s eyes opened wide at the request.

“What? Are you sure?”

“I am.”

Her kohai chuckled, turning her head to the boys, who were still waiting. She could spot Suguru’s hand still grabbing Gojo’s collar.

“And what about Gojo? Will you let him call you Utahime too?”

Utahime rolled her eyes and bit her lip, trying not to smile.

Wait. Why did she want to smile?

“Never. I’ll always be senpai to him.” Both girls snickered until Suguru couldn’t keep a hold of Gojo anymore. He barged in, his signature beam flashing as the ladies frowned at his sudden presence, followed by his best friend in a last attempt to keep him in place.

“What?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows. “I saw you hugging Shoko. Won’t you hug me , Utahime?”

“Never.” She said, glaring at him. But the more she got angry, the more he was willing to pester her.

“Let her be. Utahime is not in the mood to deal with you, Gojo.” Shoko chirped in, pushing him again.

“Wait, what did you say? Why you calling her Utahime and not senpai?”

Shoko squinted, knowing she had screwed it up. But thankfully, Utahime was still there to answer.

“She can. But not you.”

The boy’s mouth opened in an horrified expression.

“Why her and not me?”

“Beeecaaaauuse…”

Utahime’s threatening voice and raising finger was interrupted by a foreign presence, an adult one they weren’t expecting at all: an imposing, formidable middle-aged man whose deep voice startled the group, Suguru included.

“Everything alright, kids?” The man asked, pulling from his designer’s suit jacket lapels as the important man he was. Shoko swallowed hard.

“Dad… What are you doing here?”

Dr. Ieiri snorted quietly, never losing his perfect manners.

“I came to take you home, princess. At least for today before going to work. I’m glad I could find you here instead of having to look for you inside the whole school. Oh, Satoru-kun, how are you?”

“Sensei! Never better,” the boy answered, overwhelming Utahime with the familiarity of his tone before Shoko’s dad.

“I’m glad. My greetings to your mother.”

He only nodded, and the girl next to him wondered why his expression had changed so suddenly at Mrs. Gojo’s mention.

“Heh. Yeah. I’ll tell her.”

The doctor’s steeled eyes traveled in Suguru’s direction until bowing his head faintly.

“Geto-san.”

The boy mimicked his movement in response, very much against his will.

Shoko held her breath as long as the exchange lasted. Even Satoru had gone still, the tension too much to be himself, the mention of his mother and his friends’ awkward circumstances with the newcomer being enough to shut him up for a while.

“Ieiri-sensei.”

That was all they said to each other. Dr. Ieiri’s attention went back to his daughter, and then to her friend.

“Utahime-chan, nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you too, Ieiri-sensei.” The girl bowed in front of him, not knowing if she should thank the doctor for his kindness right away. But, sensing her struggles and eager to save her friend from embarrassment—again—, Shoko chirped in, holding her father’s hand.

“She’s coming home today, dad. I wanna have her over again.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Are the boys coming over too?”

“Oh, I’m leaving. They came for me. My apologies, Ieiri-sensei. See you next week, guys.” Suguru was quick to make off, avoiding having to endure Shoko’s father's presence and distaste for him a while more. He was polite, but it didn’t mean he knew how to hide the emotions that took over his face and spurted out of his every expression, betraying himself, exposing Shoko to a very lumbersome scene.

He wouldn’t do that to her. Even if it meant he had to break her heart for a while in the process. He never saw the look in her eyes when he departed.

As his friend left and disappeared out of the school gates to get into his family car, Satoru wanted to do the same.

“Not really, sensei. Maybe next week.”

“Are you leaving too, Satoru-kun?”

“Well, my driver isn’t around yet so I guess I have to wait.” The boy sighed, stretching his neck to see if he could catch a glimpse of his family car.

He didn’t.

“In that case,” Dr. Ieiri started. “We can give you a ride to your house.”

Hesitating, for the first time in his life, Satoru agreed.

“Good. Let’s go home.” Dr. Ieiri let the girls go out first, opening the co-driver seat’s door for his daughter and the backseats door for her friends. Once they were all in, he started driving his way to Denenchofu from Yokohama. Utahime had taken the right end of the backseat, as far from Gojo as she could.

“You’re such a good tutor, Utahime.” Dr. Ieiri started as he turned left. “I’m proud to say Shoko’s grades have gone up in Chemistry, and it’s all thanks to you.”

“Thank you so much, Ieiri-sensei. I try my best.” The girl said, humbly. The doctor nodded, unaware of the smirk that Gojo had been saving to annoy Utahime or make some embarrassing comment about her, before his attention was drawn to him through the rearview mirror.

“How about you, Satoru-kun? Have you been faring well at school? You, most of all, should exceed.”

Confident, the boy cleared his throat to answer. “It’s going well. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Dr. Ieiri snickered faintly, already used to the boy’s arrogant replies.

“Of course, any son of Gojo Kaede shouldn’t be so easy to bend under pressure. You surely have learned from your exceptional mother what it takes to stay on top of it all, haven’t you, son?”

“I bet I have.” Satoru’s answer was dull this time, devoid of all his usual liveliness and enthusiasm.

“Obviously. How is my dear friend Kaede doing? I’m afraid I haven’t seen her around recently.”

This time, Utahime could feel the weight of Gojo’s change of mood, the sudden shift of his vibrant spirit, now somber at the mention of his mother’s name.

She couldn’t help feeling small at this unexpected turn of events.

“She’s been coming and going. Shanghai, Taiwan, England… I’m not sure where she is now.”

Ieiri Shuhei smiled, calculating. “Busy as ever, isn’t she? It’s a good thing she trusts her capable son to look out for himself while she’s gone. You’re an excellent young man, Satoru-kun.”

As sharp minded as Shoko was, she tried to avert her father’s attention from her friend, knowing he wasn’t comfortable at all. She started talking about something related to school, relieved to succeed in her attempt. The car was filled with the Ieiri family voices, as the two youngsters behind had felt silent.

All throughout the exchange, Utahime had been listening and looking at Gojo out of the corner of her eye, awkwardly aware of how he stiffened at his mother’s mention; the way Dr. Ieiri had complimented his similarities to that woman and all this boy did was shut himself down, as if his inherent spark had been stifled by a force greater than himself.

And it concerned her, more than what she was willing to admit. She couldn’t decipher how heavy was the pressure put on his shoulders, or the expectations he had to keep alive so as not to bring shame to his family name. All she saw was his sudden, inconceivable gloominess, and how formidable his mother sounded, how incredible she must be for Shoko’s dad to speak so highly of her. She thought Mrs. Gojo should be quite a woman, and wondered what could be the reason for her child to look so… disheartened.

Satoru didn’t seem proud or cocky like he normally was. Not anymore. He was subdued, and Utahime’s heart clenched a bit, feeling ashamed, maybe, even dejected, like she had just seen a side of him that people usually didn’t know about.

The urge to hold his hand as he looked through the window was crushed, thinking that he could snatch his hand away quickly, that he would never allow her to touch him, because he was the Gojo Satoru, not some lonely kid in her neighborhood. It would be bold, scandalous, and she swore to herself that she would never think of it again.

He never said goodbye to her when the car stopped in front of the Gojo manor, a place like nothing Utahime had seen before because not even Shoko’s house was as big and sumptuous as this one. All she could hear from his mouth was his farewell to Dr. Ieiri and Shoko, disappearing behind the dark wooden gate before the car got going again. He had ignored her presence, and she couldn’t say it didn’t sting.

She was getting used to his unrelenting antics, to his overwhelming, inescapable and strong presence, always trying to get her attention. To his voice; to the fact that he awakened in her a considerable load of unknown and dormant emotions… Even when she was stubborn, she couldn’t deny this boy made her feel… different.

But she abruptly got rid of her thoughts, frowning at her own uneasiness when he passed over her, cursing his name because, in her opinion, she had thought of him enough. And maybe, just maybe, all she had seen about him was just her imagination. Perhaps he was feeling okay and he had ignored her on purpose.

Perhaps, she was trying to fool herself.

It was easier that way, wasn’t it?

“We’re here, young ladies.” Shoko’s dad said, cutting her train of thought. She had lost track of the road, gasping when the doctor’s voice brought her back to reality. Shoko was the first to get out of the car when the family driver, who was waiting for them at the entrance, opened the door for her.

“Dad, won’t you come with us?” She asked as Utahime got out too, noticing that her dad was still behind the steering wheel.

“Of course not, Princess. I told you I have to go to work.”

“Oh, right. I forgot.”

“Fine. See you tomorrow, Munchkin.”

“Sensei!” Utahime rushed to stop him before he could leave. “Excuse me.”

“I’m all ears, young lady.”

She bowed next to the driver’s window.

“Thank you so much for the present, Sir. I’m indebted to you and I’ll never be able to thank you enough…”

“What present?” he asked, an attempt to be amiable.

“I—”

Ieiri Shuhei smiled, briefly patting the girl’s shoulder through the car door frame. Shoko’s eyes were twinkling, amazed at her father’s display of kindness and affection toward her friend. It was a wonder, she thought, how he was capable of hiding his good heart, only to display it in the right moment without letting anyone know he owed one. She was proud, content.

“There’s nothing to thank me for, Utahime-chan. I’m leaving. Shoko, be a good girl.”

“As always, Dad.”

Pleased, he hummed, restarting his way to the hospital. It was a wonder, he thought, how easily he could make his girl smile by showing something he wasn’t. Kindness, generosity and poverty were foreign concepts to him, but as the good father he thought he was, he knew that Shoko couldn’t live without them if he wanted her to be the perfect woman he tried so hard to raise.

It was all about himself.

And for now, he was succeeding.

The second time Utahime got into Shoko’s bedroom, she took her attention to all the photos, taking a photo album of her friend’s childhood days as the brown-haired girl sat next to her to explain every recorded event.

“My dad took pics of every baby tooth. It’s gross, so don’t mind them.”

“I think it’s kinda cute.” Utahime remarked, turning the page. “Parents do weird things sometimes.”

“If I ever become a mom, don’t count on me for that.”

The girls chuckled as their eyes slid over a new portrait.

“Who is this?” Utahime asked, interested in the image of a toddler Shoko being carried by a middle-aged woman.

“She’s my aunt. Dad’s sister.”

“Oh. She’s so pretty.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have any cousins or siblings?” The older girl queried, mindlessly. Shoko had a lot of cute and funny pics of when she was a child.

“Any sibling. Well, Gojo is the closest to a sibling I have.” She giggled at this point. “And three cousins. But they’re all older than me. And you?”

“I don’t have any siblings either,” Utahime chuckled. “And I have one cousin but the last time I saw her was long ago.”

“Only child too?”

“I’m afraid so.” Smiling, they kept looking at the photo album with one or two comments from Utahime that Shoko was quick to answer. That, until they got to a photo whose half seemed to be cut off. Having a fluttering feeling of who the missing part belonged to, Utahime dared to ask. “Shoko?”

“Yes?”

“What happened to your mom? You never mention her…” her friend’s question made Shoko go quiet and look away. Panicking, afraid of having hit a sore spot, Utahime rushed to apologize. “I’m sorry! I never meant to pry! You don’t need to tell me, Shoko. I’m sorry…”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Shoko whispered, a soft smile on her lips. “To be honest, there’s not much to say about her.” Standing up, the brown-haired girl started looking for something in one of her big drawers as she spoke. “She’s alive, if that’s what you’re wondering. But she doesn’t live here.”

“Why?” her friend asked, utterly concerned. Shoko knew that she wasn’t just being curious.

“Well, she and dad got divorced when I was little, and my mom… She’s not like other moms. She’s different.” The girl sighed, finally finding what she was looking for. “She’s got her own life, one my dad and I don’t fit in, and I don’t think she ever wanted to be a wife or a mother. She just… fell into it one day and once she had the chance to get out, well, she left.”

“And… where is she now?”

“She lives in America.”

“Oh… That’s so far from here. Have you visited her?”

“Not even once. I’m afraid she might feel uncomfortable with my presence, and I don’t think I like it there. My dad would never let me go, anyway.”

“Do you… hate her?”

The question was more to herself than to her friend. Deep down, her heart always felt overwrought when she wondered if she really loved her mother… Or if she was just accustomed to her distressing presence in her life.

Shoko twisted her mouth.

“I couldn’t hate her. Because I’ve never felt like I had a mother.”

A shadow of sadness settled over Utahime’s eyes, shaken by her friend’s words. She realized that, in spite of all the wealth and luxury, Shoko’s heart could be as brittle as her own; that, sometimes, money wasn’t enough to amend the absence of a mother’s warmth, or fill the hole where mom was supposed to be. Restraining a sob, she thought that their grief was the same, and they would always feel emptiness where others would be eternally full.

Two sides of the same coin.

Perhaps, the only thing that made them different from each other was money and nothing else.

Shoko let something slip between her fingers, and Utahime knew it was the missing piece of the photo she had just seen. The girl’s finger pointed at the woman’s face in the picture: her piece had been cut by her arms, where a small Shoko had been sleeping.

“It’s her. She’s my mom.”

Utahime watched carefully, looking for the resemblance between the woman and her friend.

“But… You look more like your dad. Except for the mole, and your hair.”

“Yeah. The mole is a family birthmark from her side. I guess I couldn’t be the exception. If you wonder why the photo was cut, well, it was my dad. He doesn’t like to talk about her so he tried to get rid of the only thing I had left from her.”

“Do you miss her?” The older girl quizzed, almost shyly.

“Not really. Maybe when I was little, but not anymore. My dad is enough.” At this point, Shoko chuckled. “At least I got it better than Gojo. His mom is way worse than mine.”

Suddenly, something started making sense in Utahime’s mind. But she didn’t want to seem so nosy.

“How?”

Leaning a little in her friend’s direction Shoko chirped:

“If you ever wanna know the devil himself, go to the Gojo house. You’ll surely find him when she looks right into your eyes. You won’t see anyone like her.”

As if she had been just telling a children’s story, Shoko went back to her drawer to keep her mother’s photo safe. Utahime couldn’t help gulping, sensing some kind of discomfort at her friend’s chilling statement.

She thought—again—of Gojo Satoru, and all she had seen today from him; his hard expression, the sudden somberness in his eyes. She wondered how it would be to live with the devil himself, and her brain reminded her right away, that she didn’t need to wonder, for she already had gone through the depths of hell.

At least Shoko was smart enough to take her out of her own mind and carry her to the pool. It was a good way to spend the rest of their day.

Chapter Text

Utahime was almost late to her choir practice that Tuesday morning before lunch.

Forgetting her music book in her school bag, she ran back to the classroom to take it and rush to her rehearsal. She walked so fast while looking at her cute but cheap wristwatch that she crashed into an open door in the hallway, scattering all her stuff in the process: folder, book, paper sheets, pencil case, being forced to kneel and pick it all up.

She was about to complain to whoever had left the classroom door open, the school’s fourth floor corridors being supposed to be empty at that time of the day for it was the Music section, but the sudden and calm pulse of a B piano key pulled at her heartstrings, recognizing one of Chopin’s Preludes she liked in the overture. She forgot her practice for a brief moment, hypnotized by the sound of alternate scales under fingers she thought must be blessed, because she had never heard someone as passionate as the faceless pianist inside the room.

The somberness and hopelessness of the piece as it turned to its deceptive cadence made her heart clench, losing track of time as the piece went back to the tonic before dying in a soft minor chord, decorated by the pianist’s own touch.

She never expected to catch a lock of white, spiky hair moving along with the music when she peeked through the classroom window, much less finding Gojo Satoru performing such a heart wrenching piece. It was like hearing his whole soul pouring down his fingers, melancholy thumping on every note as he played. She wanted to go inside, ask him to keep playing but, as if sensing her presence, the boy stopped and looked back, frowning when he found no one in sight, annoyed at the unwelcome disturbance.

He would never know it was her. He’d never know how she had hidden behind the door and how she had run away as soon as his eyes went back to the piano.

But he was glad to think it had been his imagination. Because he was not sure he was ready for anyone—for her—to listen to what his heart really meant as his fingers melted in the piano keys.

She wasn’t sure she could stop her mind from thinking of him the rest of the day, as she made her way to the choir classroom.

***

“Now, sopranos please, go to bar twenty seven and let’s take it to the fermata above the quarter rest. Tenors, be quiet.”

All the members of the soprano section turned the pages of their music books as soon as the music teacher gave them the tonic of the chord, moving her hands and fingers to make them breathe in and start the melody. As the leader of her section, Utahime was in charge of coaching her choirmates and their vocal techniques, and she had put a noteworthy effort for this rehearsal, since performing Mozart’s Requiem was not exactly a piece of cake, especially when they had to sing in a language that was nothing like Japanese.

But she always managed to excel—unwillingly, because she loved singing and she was so talented, but most of her choirmates said it was due to her being the teacher’s favorite.

And they were right to an extent, but it wasn’t entirely the truth. Ms. Kobayashi valued not only talent, but also perseverance, and Utahime had plenty of both. So, when some of the girls in the soprano section started chuckling and goofing up after singing the fourth bar behind Utahime’s back, the teacher knew they were doing it on purpose.

She knew those girls were foaming at the mouth in envy when seeing how their leader sang the whole Kyrie’s melisma without any effort, and all they wanted to do was foul it up until there was no one to blame but Utahime.

The fact that she had been recently gaining Gojo Satoru’s attention didn’t help her at all either. Kimura Nanako was part of Satoru’s unofficial fanclub, and she wasn’t pleased with the idea of her star boy being fond of such a nobody like Iori Utahime.

“Fine,” Ms. Kobayashi said, disrupting the melody. The soprano section went silent, as well as the rest of the choir members. “I’ll say this only once: those who refuse to behave and give their best for this rehearsal, won’t be able to attend the performance at Tokyo Takarazuka Theater. Is that clear? Because if none of you is able to sing today, then you won’t be able to do it along with the orchestra.”

“But, sensei,” Nanako—one of the soprano girls—chirped in, raising her hand. “It’s not our fault, but the section leader’s.”

Aware of the girl’s poisonous nature, Ms. Kobayashi quirked up an eyebrow. Utahime said nothing, waiting for it all to clear up. This wasn’t the first time one of her choirmates tried to blame it all on her.

But, to tell the truth, her hands were burning inside to slap the shit out of this little shit talker.

“Oh, is that so, Nanako-chan?”

“It is. She should have trained us better because Latin is so difficult to pronounce and we can’t do it if we don’t understand. It’s obvious our voices won’t sound the same.”

When the girl spoke, her two friends nodded in support.

“That’s not an excuse. I gave you all the lyrics translation two months ago, and I don’t see any of your choirmates complaining about the difficulty of the lyrics or whatever you say. Instead, they come and give their best because they studied and they understand how important this performance is. Actually, the only one complaining here is you.”

“But, sensei—”

“No buts. This goes for everyone: you all better do things the right way today, or those who don’t won’t be selected for the trip to Kyoto next month.”

“A trip to Kyoto!?” Almost all kids bursted out in cries of joy, especially the girls, hopping and clapping with one another, except for one of them. Not like they hadn’t gone to Kyoto and beyond before, but a school trip was always something to celebrate; it was a good opportunity to reinforce the youngsters’ friendships and make new friends and acquaintances, not to mention the chance to be flirty around kids their age and even have teen dates outside school. And most girls were aiming for the latest.

The few boy members were mostly quiet, waiting for the rest of the teacher’s instruction.

“Yes. A trip to Kyoto for the NHK choir contest.”

“We thought it was going to be here in Tokyo, sensei!” One of the tenors said, somewhat disappointed.

“That’s what we all thought, but no. It’s been moved to Kyoto this year and your parents must keep in mind all the fees and prices for the one-week trip. They will be notified about this through an official academic memo they will have to sign. And I’m free to choose who will go there, depending on your behavior from now on. So, be careful, Nanako-chan. I’ll accept no excuses.”

Despite the girl’s frowning, Ms. Kobayashi knew she had been clear enough for her students to understand. She noticed Utahime’s sudden gloominess after the notice, and how her voice had become lower during the rest of the rehearsal, but there was nothing she could do. When it was time to leave for lunch, she called Utahime in private, away from her choirmates' sight, who were picking their things up and cleaning the room.

“I know what you’ll say, Utahime-chan. And I know your condition for the trip. I can’t promise anything yet, but I’ll talk to the Principal to see what we can do, okay? Because there’s nothing I’d like more than having you there. The choir needs you.”

Bowing, Utahime thanked her teacher as the woman patted her shoulder affectionately.

“I’ll work hard too, sensei. I’ll do my best to get the money.”

“I know you’ll do. Go and help your classmates. See you this Thursday.”

Ms. Kobayashi left, leaving her students alone before they finished their task. As Utahime put half the chairs back in place, Nanako and her friends came closer, whispering behind her back.

“Too bad some of us won’t be there, like our section leader.” She shot, a loathsome giggle creeping out of her throat. Peeved, Utahime turned her head back to her. She saw it coming, honestly.

“Excuse me?”

“You think we don’t know, senpai?” Nanako snorted, followed by her friends’ snickering. “We all know you can’t afford that trip, just like it happened last year. But don’t worry. We’ll make sure to bring you back souvenirs, so you can experience something nice for once in your life!”

The girls’ laughs screeched in Utahime’s ears, joined by some of her choirmates, even though most of them were watching the awkward scene in shock. Nobody was expecting this, since Utahime had been a silent presence during all her time in the school choir; so, when Nanako and her friends started passive-aggressively attacking her, they didn’t know for certain what to do.

Accustomed to mean comments and bitter remarks here and there towards her since she started in the Academy, Utahime walked to the girl, hands to her sides and keeping eye contact. She wouldn’t allow this stupid kohai to insult her; that was totally out of question. Because she had had run-ins with Gojo Satoru before and he had been surely annoying, but at this point she knew it was different, because he didn’t mean to be mean, but to tease her.

Utahime gave no fucks that Kimura was some inches taller, or where she came from, or her tough girl expression. Standing up to her, she used her steadiest voice to speak.

“I can understand that you’re lacking attention at home and that’s why you come here to play around because there’s nothing else but air and hair in that pretty head of yours. But I warn you: you better not mess with me again.”

Oohhs and aahhs from the rest of the students bounced off the walls, overwhelming Nanako. She had just learned that Iori Utahime was not the submissive, quiet girl they all thought she was, but even if she stuttered to answer, her haughty nature pushed her to say something.

“Or what? Are you gonna tell your underprivileged parents to come here to complain? Please, don’t make me laugh. Besides, I didn’t tell anything far from the truth: we all know you have no money to go to Kyoto.”

Utahime hissed, rage and shame bubbling in her throat. She wasn’t sure of what to do, but she was about to do something, when a hand touched her shoulder, and one of her kohai got in the middle between her and Nanako.

“Oi, Kimura-san. You better shut up and leave the senpai alone and remember that you’re hanging by a thread here so, shut up or I’ll tell Kobayashi-sensei what you’re doing and you’ll be the one who won’t go to Kyoto.”

Amanai Riko was never a troublesome child, but she always knew when to step up for someone, something quite admirable from a 14 year-old chuugakusei like her. She had always behaved during the sections practices and her birdie-ish voice went unnoticed most of the time, but Utahime always valued her compromise and, with all she had just seen, Riko had earned her senpai’s utter respect.

More so, when her words had left Kimura Nanako totally out of the game.

With Nanako’s humiliation, the rest of the choir members finished their chores and left. Only Riko stayed, helping Utahime with the last chair.

“Don’t mind them, senpai. I’m sure we’ll find a way for you to go.”

Smiling warmly, Utahime shook her head.

“It’s okay. I got work anyway, Riko-chan. Thank you.”

“Oh. We’ll miss you then, senpai.”

“Yeah. But you’ll do great.”

What could a 14 year-old innocent girl do? Only nod, swaying on her heels with her hands behind her back, her braided hair bouncing on her back.

“I hope so. I’m glad we talked, senpai. You’re cool! B-bye!”

Utahime remembered they hadn’t actually talked before beyond choir matters, as the girl ran out of the classroom, on her way to break.

Truth be told, Utahime had barely talked to her choirmates during her two years there. Maybe because she was protecting herself from their hostile, silk-stocking world, a world where she didn’t fit in; or maybe because she was afraid. Afraid that they could hurt her, or mock her, just like Kimura Nanako had done some seconds ago. Swallowing her grief for as long as she could, the girl turned all the lights off and walked out, closing the door, thinking, ruminating on her situation and every path that took her here.

Sometimes, Utahime wished for nice things like every girl her age. She wondered why everything was harder for her, why she had to be the Cinderella here, instead of coming from wealth like any other kid at school. Sometimes, she wished she wouldn’t have to be the scholarship girl, or the one with a worn-out uniform, or the one who had to wait until a helping hand bought another out of pity so she could have a new one.

She wished she had a house like Shoko’s, and sleep in a huge ass bed instead of the humble, hand-me-down small bed she had inherited from her grandmother. It would be nice, she thought on her way to the cafeteria’s backyard, to be rich and not worrying about anything, instead of having to work every weekend to make some cash that would quickly fade out because needs and hunger didn’t last a single day.

It would be nice to find her mom at home after school, prettily dressed, cooking something for her, welcoming her with a kiss and a warm meal to shut her growling tummy. To have a full fridge and a nice bedroom. To live in a neighborhood with no drunk men in the streets or old biddies who whispered things about her mom behind her back.

Was it bad to dream sometimes?

Was she unworthy of things others were worthy of?

Was it too much to ask for the chance to go to Kyoto like the rest of her choirmates? She really wanted to go, because she loved singing and dancing, and she would love doing that in a theater in front of people who could admire her talent. Because it would feel nice to be recognized, at least once, and praised, and loved. Because she was just a girl, and girls had dreams.

When her feet reached the backyard grounds and she sat on the bench under the cedar, Utahime realized she was crying.

And she was glad to be alone. Nobody would see her cry.

The sudden whoosh of the bushes around her didn’t make her lift her head in search of the sound. Instead, Utahime kept her eyes locked on the ground as her tears continued coming out unsteadily.

“Utahime!!”

That one.

That was the voice she wasn’t expecting at all. The voice she didn’t want to hear, much less now. Every pulse of the keys under his fingers still lingered in her brains, tickling her thoughts, brushing her guts. But now, she didn’t have the strength, she wasn’t in the mood to argue with Gojo Satoru.

How did he get here? How did he find her when she was almost away from everyone’s sight? That was something Utahime didn’t know how to answer. But here he was, with a cocky grin she could hear in the lively tone of his sudden voice, even though she wasn’t looking at him, because she wouldn’t allow anyone to see the tears in her eyes as they flooded.

The girl could feel the weight of his body on the bench as he sat next to her, not very close, trying to pry on whatever was happening to his senpai.

“Utahime, you crying?” He asked. The shift in his vocal chords was almost palpable, devoid of the sullen, petulant boy who didn’t bother in saying goodbye to her and had cornered in the middle of the hallway last week. She could feel the concern in his voice, not daring to shorten the distance between them on the bench. “Is something wrong?”

She tried so hard to wipe her tears away, to look away. But his ever-sharp, blue eyes never missed a thing.

“Leave me alone.” She mumbled in a broken voice, her mind doing a stupid attempt to forget the melody under his fingers and how beautifully he could play the piano.

“Why? I didn’t do anything wrong. Tell me why you crying, and maybe I can help you.”

Tearless now, but eyes a little swollen, Utahime turned her head to him.

“Why do you care?”

Sitting there calmly, long legs stretched out in front of him, Gojo threw his head back. His round, dark sunglasses shone under the morning rays, covering his stunning eyes from hers. He seemed to have forgotten all their banter from the previous weeks and the paint bucket.

“I don’t know. Maybe because I don’t like to see my pretty senpai crying.”

Pretty.

There was a brief, startling swirl in her stomach that made her gasp at the word.

Nobody had called her pretty before except for her dad and grandma.

“I’m not crying!” That was her only answer, not knowing how to act before an obviously handsome but obnoxious boy like Gojo Satoru but being snappish. And she wasn’t sure if he was mocking her again or not.

He didn’t seem so, though.

“Hey!” He yelled abruptly, ignoring her protests on purpose. His finger was pointing at something in the sky. “Look at that!”

There was nothing when she dared to glance.

“What are you talking about!?”

“Oh, nothing,” Gojo lowered his hand, still limping on the bench. “I thought I saw a UFO.”

Utahime frowned, bitterly. “Tch.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re skeptical.”

She took her time to answer, but did it nonetheless.

“Why would I believe such nonsense?”

He shrugged, taking some candies out of his pockets.

“It’s not nonsense. Our universe is vast, so I doubt we’re alone. Want some?” He asked, handing her one of the candies. She shook her head.

“I’m not a sweets person.”

“I see.” Gojo started chewing on his jawbreaker as he spoke. There was a brief silence before he talked again. “Yo, Utahime, do you know who Benjamin Franklin was?”

“Of course I know!” For fuck’s sake. This boy got her easily on her nerves. He started chuckling at her cantankerous response.

“Okay, okay. Listen to this: what kind of feeling did Benjamin Franklin have when he discovered electricity?”

Raising an eyebrow, Utahime tilted her head. “What?”

“C’mon. Tell me.”

She hummed, thoughtful.

“I… don’t know.”

“Shock!” The boy’s strangled laugh made her wheeze, still frowning. “You get it? Electricity, shock!”

Utahime was sure his cackle could be heard throughout the whole school. And she blushed, ashamed… But also dazzled at his boyish boldness. Before she could catch her breath, he kept talking.

“Okay, what about this one: why did the tomato turn red?”

“Huh?”

“Because he saw the salad dressing!” He almost doubled up in laughter. He started with a plethora of bad jokes that, more than making her laugh, made her scrunch her face in an attempt to not laugh at his own guffaw, as embarrassing as it was. He was having the time of his life and, in the meantime, she was making her best to hold back a chuckle.

Until she couldn’t anymore.

His laughter was infectious, uplifting. He had made her forget her sorrows for a slice of time. It was the first time he could hear her laughing, and the sound took him aback, chortling, opening his ears to the strange sound that came out of her throat.

He cackled again, tapping on the bench.

“Fuck! Your laugh is so ugly! You sound like a fucking walrus. Do that again, Utahime!!”

“Don’t call me ugly, you furby-eyed freak!”

Still chuckling, Gojo got an inch closer to her, taking off his glasses and opening his eyes wide so she could stare at them better.

He didn’t notice the gasp he had caused in her at the sight of the ocean in his gaze.

“Furby-eyed freak? You need to get glasses, Utahime! My eyes are precious jewels so I can’t believe you say I look like a furby. Look closer! Look closer!” He protested, high-spirited, getting all in her face. Utahime pushed him quickly, because he was indeed gorgeous, all of him—damn stupid pretty boy—. But she wasn’t really about to let him make a point.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re scary!”

Again, she was trying to act tough. But her heart was already beating a mile a minute.

She could almost hear it out of her chest, afraid he could, too.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

“You don’t even know how scary I can be!”

“Huh. You’re all talk and no action, I bet.” She crossed her arms, lifting an eyebrow.

“Well, I surely won’t drop a balloon full of paint at you from the second floor. But I can do likewise.”

Before she could bite her lip in embarrassment, almost to the point of muttering her apologies, Gojo jumped from his seat and pulled on one of her pigtails, doing what he had done the first time they met: stealing her red bow to run away from her.

“Hey, give it back!” He was making her chase him through the whole school if necessary, so she didn’t waste time in coming after him until she could grab the collar of his jacket and pull him to the ground. “Give it back!”

But Gojo was quicker and faster, straightening up before she could blink again.

Yet he didn’t want to lose what he had just earned so, instead of continuing to test his luck with her, he decided it was better to make an agreement. Both of them were oblivious to the curious and jealous looks of the students who could catch a glimpse of their banter, wondering if there was something going on between them. They were mostly girls—Mei and Nanako among them, visibly affected by the fact that Gojo Satoru’s attention belonged all to the scholarship girl.

He hid the bow behind his back, blocking Utahime’s hands from taking it.

“Gojo!”

“I’ll give it back! But only if you tell me why you were crying.”

The girl stopped and rolled her eyes, scoffing. The loosened half of her hair was hit by a gust of air that forced her to brush it off her face before answering.

“Why do you care so much? It was nothing!”

“I told you. Maybe I don’t want my pretty, cute senpai to be sad.”

“Gojo…”

“Tell me! Or you’ll have to go back home with your hair looking like that.” Gojo said, pointing at her messy hair, and the silky, black strands that got into the way of her mouth and eyes now.

She sighed, knowing it was pointless. The feeling that this boy wasn’t easy to deal with was growing stronger.

Utahime wondered why he was doing this. But the truth was, that not even him knew it. If someone could ask Gojo Satoru why he cared about his senpai’s tears, he would have answered with a shrug, not knowing for certain the response and cause of his own actions. He just hated seeing her sad; he just wanted to make her laugh until all he could see were her eyes shining in joy. He didn’t even know this girl or where she came from, but he was sure that he wanted to see a smile on her lips every time he looked at her.

He just wanted to make sure that he was the source of those smiles, for some strange, baffling reason he couldn’t fathom at all.

“I told you, it was nothing. Something stupid that happened during the choir rehearsal and that’s it.”

“And if it was something stupid, why were you crying?”

“I— I don’t know! Stop pestering me and give my bow back, Gojo!”

Raising an eyebrow, he lowered his guard. She had given him enough information at least.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Like I care.”

He laughed at her reply. She was finally able to see the red end of her lace in his hand again.

“Okay. Let me…”

Both his hands traveled to the loosened half of her hair and tied it as carefully as he could, leaving a messy, clumsy slope in her hair tips in the process. She didn’t see this coming. Her heart was racing fast and she had no time to follow what he was doing, soul ablaze, every one of her senses trying to decipher the tickle in her hands, legs and chest, whenever he was this close.

His alluring scent felt like an eternal summer filled with music and colors, like the sanctuary of her heartbeat, keeping the rhythm of her soul at a steady pace. For him, she was a new tempo, a 4/4 time, the flow of a new harmony under his fingers. Suddenly, he wanted to sit on the piano and play something that resembled her, could it be Schubert, or maybe Liszt. Or perhaps compose it by himself.

If a poem could describe how they looked like at that moment, when the blue of his eyes locked on hers and the dark golden in hers lingered on his, it would have said they were a perfect sunset: ocean catching fire. Sun melting into water.

He never touched her, but she was already missing the faint brush of his fingers on her hair when he was done, stepping back, suddenly aware of the concept of personal space.

“There.” He whispered, clearing his throat. “Feeling better now?”

His question almost took her aback.

“Huh. Yeah…”

Swaying on his feet like a toddler, Gojo hid his hands in his pockets, his glasses already back on.

“Well, gotta do something now but…” He was so bad at comforting people with words that he better shut up before screwing it up again with her. “See ya.”

He started walking, and he almost tripped on an invisible rock on the ground. Go figure.

Utahime chuckled, her fingers now on the strands of her hair he had touched, unconscious of her own motions.

“Hey, Gojo!” She called him before he could take one more step away from her. Having his full attention, the girl almost smiled. “You suck as a joke teller!”

“But I made you laugh at least! That’s a big win!”

As she saw him getting away, Utahime bit her lower lip, as his laugh, his music, his spiky, unruly white hair and his eyes remained a constant presence in her heart for the rest of her life.

Chapter Text

Actually, Gojo Satoru never lied when he told Utahime he had something to do. Something important, top secret.

He never had any matter with the school choir, but he was suddenly so interested in finding out about the members of the club that he rushed to the teacher’s room to ask who was the teacher in charge, running to find Ms. Kobayashi as soon as he got the information.

“Sensei?” He approached her as she walked out of the classroom.

“Gojo-shonen. What are you doing here?”

“Sensei,” he started, following her lead. “I was wondering if you could help me with something regarding the school choir.”

“What? Are you finally going to use that amazing voice of yours and join us?”

Smugly, Satoru smirked.

“Well, not exactly. But I need one of the voices in the choir for something I have in mind. Something duet-related.”

“Oh. What is it?” She said, somewhat disappointed. She had tried to recruit Gojo Satoru’s voice since his middle-school years with no success.

“I’m working on a piano piece right now and, if it goes as planned, I’ll have to use one of your sopranos, the best one you have. So, if you mind, please lend me the name of one of them so I can ask for their help.”

“Well, my best soprano… Iori Utahime, for sure—” he shook his head before she could finish. He couldn’t go to Utahime for what he actually had in mind.

“Not that one. I think her voice doesn’t fit for that piano piece. What about one of your altos, then?”

Ms. Kobayashi thought for a few seconds.

“I guess… kōkōsei Miura Anna would be okay. Class 2-C.”

“Thanks, sensei!”

The boy left, running. And Ms. Kobayashi shook her head, wondering what was going on with kids nowadays, because the Gojo kid had disappeared as soon as he had appeared, turning it into the weirdest encounter she had had with a student.

Satoru wasted no time in finding the C group of the high school second years. It was right above his classroom, third floor. Looking at his expensive wristwatch, he counted the seconds left until the bell rang, marking the end of the break, leaning against the classroom door to wait until students started appearing.

“Where’s Miura-senpai?” He asked one of the boys. Yeah, he could be quite polite when he wanted to, and his inherent charm was already getting on, as curious girls started surrounding him, wondering what he was doing there, the shyest ones blushing at the sight of him, the boldest ones winking and swaggering as they walked past him. He really enjoyed the attention, but something was more important now.

“Oh, Miura-san. She’s there.” Her classmate said, pointing behind his back. She came closer, accompanied by a bunch of girls who giggled and flushed when they saw their handsome kohai. It was like a prince had come for them, or for Miura Anna, specifically. Her heart went ba-dump ba-dump as soon as she saw him approaching her, wearing his signature captivating grin.

“Ah, who’s Miura?” He could hear the girls’ squeals as he talked, and the strong blush in Anna’s cheeks.

“I am. What do you need me for, Gojo-kun?” His senpai said, feeling proud that the Gojo heir was looking for her.

Taking a step away from the door, Satoru beckoned her to come closer, friends and all. The girls’ giggles started being annoying to him.

“You guys had choir practice today, right?”

“Yes.” Anna’s eyes glimmered in expectation. Her friends said something at her back she couldn’t understand, too focused in Gojo’s eyes to care, but barely able to look directly into them. Staring too much would have been overwhelming.

“And, did something happen with Iori Utahime during the rehearsal that made her feel… uncomfortable?”

Satoru was always a sharp-minded boy. His wise judgment let him know that he couldn’t make Utahime seem vulnerable in case someone had made her cry; so he used all his allure and brains to take as much information as he could. And even when Anna’s expression faltered when she was asked for another girl’s wellbeing, she couldn’t waste the chance to be on good terms with the great, handsome and amazing Gojo Satoru.

And no student would really dare to deny him an inch of information either, not when he could easily intimidate anyone with a murderous glare that threatened to burn them all alive in blue flames. He could be scary when provoked, and his family name was already enough to make them shiver, hence no one wanted to really mess with all he represented.

Being a witness to Utahime’s humiliation, Miura Anna explained in broad strokes what had happened back in the choir classroom. He asked for details, though, like the name of the girl who had tried to make fun of Utahime, finally learning one or two things about her he wasn’t expecting at all. He thanked Anna and left, determined to find this Kimura Nanako girl, one way or another, as a growing rage boiled up in his fists as steam in a pressure cooker, long footsteps stomping through every hallway.

She was going to find out two or three things about him today, and he promised to himself they wouldn't be pleasant at all.

It took him two hours and a half to find her, right after lunch, asking here and there where he could find her; still holding a grudge against her for insulting his best friend. She walked by one of the hallways on her way to the girls’ washroom after the P.E. class in the pool. Without any regard, Satoru grabbed her by the hair, pulling her into an empty classroom and closing the door behind them, cutting any attempt of yelling from her side as soon as she found out who her captor was.

Despite his roughness and carelessness, she felt for a brief moment in the ninth cloud. This was not just some boy: the one who had cornered her against a door was none other than Gojo Satoru, and she couldn’t believe this was happening. She was so, so sure that her dream was about to become true, that she didn’t care of the pain in her scalp when he let go of her hair, his arms on both sides of her face in a sexy, possessive manner that made her go weak in the legs.

Nonetheless, she didn’t see the thud coming on the wooden door, mere inches away from her face.

“Hear me out, Kimura. Listen to me carefully, because I won’t repeat myself,” He knew he was being an asshole, and he couldn’t say he wasn’t enjoying the bewildered, scared expression in the girl’s gray eyes, especially when he took his glasses off so she could have a better look at his threatening, fierce azure eyes. Satoru's brows pulled, his mouth curled in a sneer. “I know what you did to Utahime today, and no matter what you say or think about her, she is going on that trip. If I ever hear any word from her, even the tiniest bit of upset, I will make sure you won’t come back to this school ever again in your pitiful life. Is that clear?”

His voice was deadly calm as he glared at her. Nanako gulped hard, shaking, almost peeing her pants because nobody had ever threatened her, much less someone like Gojo Satoru, the boy she idolized so much.

She didn’t have the guts to answer, though.

“I said: is that clear?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Oooh,” a bitter chuckle escaped his throat. “Don’t lie to me. I have eyes and ears everywhere so I know exactly what you did during the choir practice. Again: is that clear now?”

“Y—Yes…”

“Good. Because I can make your dad send you abroad so you can never come back here. You know, I have good influences. My mother could destroy your family’s company like this,” he snapped his fingers in front of her eyes, startling the girl. “Not to mention my family practically owns this school, you empty skull, you hear me?”

“But, Satoru-kun…” She tried to excuse herself, and her voice stopped when he raised a hand in front of her, laughing sharply and resembling his mother so terribly that his friends would have made him stop if they had seen the frightening look in his eyes.

“Satoru-kun? Are we close? Do I know you?” He knocked on her head with his knuckles. “The disrespect. Of course, you’re an empty skull. There really isn’t anything here. Also, don’t think I have forgiven you after what you said to my friend.”

He could see her eyes well up with tears and her lips wobbly. But this girl had been so mean to Utahime that he couldn’t feel any pity towards her.

“Gojo-san…”

“That’s better. Now, you better start treating Utahime like the princess she is, or I will make your life here a living hell, Kimura. It’s a promise, and I’m a man of his word.”

He moved out of her way and opened the door again for her to leave. The deep, dark frown in his eyes when the girl ran away could have burned her to ashes after leaving behind the joyful, cruel undertone in his demeanor, to replace it by one of pure hatred. A furious Gojo Satoru was one nobody would ever want to make an enemy out of, the only people that were really able to handle him like this being his friends and mother.

Once again, he wondered what was the force that led him to do all of this for a girl he barely knew. The more he saw her, the more he felt irresistibly wanting to be close to her.

His mission wasn’t finished. Not yet. There was something else he needed to do before going home that very day, even if it meant he had to skip classes. What could possibly go wrong? Nothing. Except if Yaga caught him red-handed; but he was heading straight to his office right now, bumping into Suguru on his way there.

“Satoru, where have you been? Shoko and I were looking for you since break.”

“I have no time now, Suguru. Come with me.”

This was one of the few times Suguru saw his friend being serious about something. But more than serious, he was almost enraged now.

"Satoru, are you okay? What happened?"

The white-haired boy just kept walking, a murderous glare on his eyes.

"Utahime was crying."

Blinking and confused, Suguru frowned.

"And?"

Satoru grunted, his shoes snapping when he stopped to glare at his friend. "Someone did something really mean to her. And hear me out, Suguru. Hear me out carefully because I won't repeat myself: no one is allowed to make Utahime cry.”

Suguru held back his snort, thinking that his friend was being ridiculous. But this guy was his best friend as well, and he knew that Satoru was being serious and could even swing at him if he dared to mock his words.

However, the black-haired boy dared to worm more out of him.

“Just you then, I guess.” Suguru said, raising a challenging eyebrow.

“Not even me.” Satoru groaned as he started walking again. The way to Yaga’s office was a long one, but he never stopped until he got there, followed by his friend. He found the Principal busy with another student, prompting the middle-school boy to rush out of the room so he could start with his questioning.

“Satoru!” Yaga-sensei screamed, closing the door of his office again. “You can’t come here and act as if this was your office so you better behave the next time!”

“I’m sorry, sensei. But this is a matter of life or death—”

“How? And you, Suguru, what are you doing here? Do you need to talk to me as well?”

Ever politely, Suguru bowed in front of the Principal.

“No, sir. I just came to—”

“Of course. It’s always you three. I’m surprised Ieiri isn’t here. You’re dismissed, so go to your classroom, Geto.”

“Yes, sir!” The black-haired boy bowed again and turned around to leave. He closed the door behind him as quietly as he could, his friend still inside. He could hear Yaga’s voice as he got away from the office.

“What’s so urgent, Satoru, that you couldn’t wait?”

“Sensei, are the club trips sponsored by the school in case a scholarship-student doesn’t have the means?”

Tilting his head, the Principal furrowed as he beckoned his student to take a seat on the other side of his desk to talk properly.

“What do you mean by that?”

Satoru scoffed, about to lose his composure. He had little patience, truth be told. Yaga glared at him.

“I’m sorry. What I mean is… If one of the students owns a scholarship and there’s a trip in the club they’re in, does the school pay for the trip? Does the scholarship include club activities like a trip to Kyoto?”

With his fingers crossed as he listened intently to the Gojo kid, Yaga Masamichi shook his head. He was slightly shocked about his student’s change of demeanor: he had never seen Gojo Satoru looking so… Serious before.

“To be honest, no. The scholarship is only for enrollment and monthly school fees. But I’m curious, Satoru: why are you so interested in this all of a sudden? As far as I know, scholarship matters are none of your concern.”

“You’re right, sensei. But there’s a senpai of mine, Iori Utahime…”

“Oh. What’s with her? Weren’t you two on bad terms the last time I saw you?”

Satoru chuckled.

“Not at all. We were just kidding. But the thing is… Sensei, my senpai really has a great voice and she deserves to go on that trip to Kyoto. You’ll see, this girl, Kimura Nanako, was making fun of her because she couldn’t go to Kyoto and I think that’s not fair!” Satoru curled his hands into fists, oblivious to the curious look that Yaga gave at his hands as he raised an eyebrow.

“She’s not your classmate, nor your friend. Why do you care so much about this?”

“Because…” Satoru stuttered, not having a certain answer for that unexpected question. “Because it’s not fair! And she IS my friend, sensei. That’s why… That’s why I wanna help her!”

Thoughtful, the Principal sighed. He felt baffled at Gojo’s concern, but he knew as well that the boy’s troubled expression was genuine.

“Well, there’s nothing I can do for her, Satoru. Maybe it would help if she had parents to actually support her, but I’m afraid she doesn’t. That girl practically lives on her own.”

Shocked, Satoru swallowed hard, frozen in his spot.

“Wait… What? Isn’t her mother a nurse? Why can’t she pay for her daughter and let her go to Kyoto?”

Yaga took his glasses off,  guessing that this was going to be a complicated conversation.

“Not really. Why did you—. Oh. I see. Did she tell you that?”

“Well no. It was Shoko. They’re friends too.”

The Principal sighed again, putting his hands on the desk.

“I hope that not a single word of what I say from now on leaves this place, Satoru, since this is Iori’s private business. But her mother is not a nurse, and that woman has never stepped on this school for anything. She’s an alcoholic that doesn’t seem to care for her own daughter. Gladly, Iori-san is a self-reliant girl and she can take care of herself, but she practically lives alone and it’s been hard for her to be studying here since she doesn’t have the means. She works hard, though. One of the toughest girls I’ve ever met.”

The boy looked so fuddled by the news that he couldn’t keep the pace of their talk right away.

“But… Did she lie then? She doesn’t seem to be a liar. She’s… She’s so…”

“I know. But sometimes she must feel forced to lie due to the pressure on her, so don’t blame her. I bet she doesn’t feel comfortable doing that.”

“No… I wouldn’t do that. I—” Satoru was struggling, trying to find the right words to say. “I wish I could help her…”

Struck by this new light of how detached he had been from the real world, Satoru wasn’t sure of how to act or what to say. Sensing his struggle, Principal Yaga reached out to him, patting his back to appease his worries. After all, he was just a kid, a kid born from wealth, and realizing that not everybody in the world was like him, must have been something very clashing for the mindset he was raised with.

“She has to pay for her trip, Satoru. I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.”

There was a whirlwind of thoughts in the boy’s head. He stood up, walking across the whole office until a dazed Yaga rolled his eyes.

“Satoru, stop. I know you’re concerned, but I’m busy right now and—”

“I know! What if I pay for her?” He said, startling the Principal when he slapped on the table, blue eyes shining in anticipation.

“But, how will you do that?”

“I don’t know… Maybe you can tell her it’s a gift from you…”

“I can’t do that, kid. There are two more scholarship students aside from her and I can’t show any preferences towards any of them. But where will you get the money from?”

Satoru waved his hand at Yaga dismissively. “You don’t worry, sensei. I have a black credit card and my mother lets me do whatever I want with that shit—”

“Satoru!”

“That thing. Sorry, sensei,” the boy said, chuckling. “Anyway, I’ll pay for her trip. Just let me give her this but she can’t know it’s from me. Otherwise she won’t accept it. Just, don’t tell my mother what this is for. Besides, it’s not like we need that money; she won’t ask either. She just pays the bills and that’s it.”

Touched by his student’s kindness and concern, Yaga nodded, arms crossed, not to mention his slight astonishment at the fact that this 16 year old brat already owned a black card, something most adults couldn’t even dream of. Even when it was unethical of him to accept the boy’s offer without asking his mother, he knew Gojo Kaede well enough to understand that she wouldn’t be happy with this and, most likely, wouldn’t allow her son to spend money on a girl—a poor girl—she didn’t know at all.

If Gojo Satoru had a kind heart, it certainly wasn’t because of his mother.

“All I can do is pass the money off as her reward for her tutoring to other students. I think she can accept it if it’s something earned by her own effort.”

“Sensei, I would kiss your brain if I could,” Satoru said, taking his wallet out of his pocket. The Principal glared at him, again. “But I won’t do that because I’m pretty sure you’d smack the sh— You’d smack me, so please, take this and do your magic. I gotta go to class now, I’ll be back later.” He had left his credit card on the desk, in the middle of Yaga’s hands.

“But, Sato—”

“See you later, sensei!”

Nobody could grab hold of Gojo Satoru as soon as he was out. The brat was that fast with these long legs of his, and his slender but athletic body. Yaga sighed, resigned to his student’s whims and kept working. He thought about the whole situation, realizing that Satoru was right: the Gojo family didn’t need that money, and it wouldn’t do any harm to make Iori Utahime happy at least for a brief moment of her life.

Yaga Masamichi had a big heart, too; and even when he hesitated to use Gojo’s card, his and his student’s acts had a kind purpose after all. That very afternoon, Utahime’s trip to Kyoto would be paid in full and she wouldn’t know a thing about where it came from.

That would put a smile on Satoru’s face for the rest of the day. A smile that would widen as soon as he spotted Utahime in the front yard at the end of school, his friends by his side. He would say something to catch her attention in the only annoying way he knew, and she would snap at him as always, opening the way to their neverending banter as Shoko and Suguru looked at them after being left behind.

“You know what?” Suguru said, sitting on a tree branch, a shelter from the teachers’ eyes as he shared a cigarette with his girlfriend. “I think Satoru likes Utahime-senpai.” The short-haired girl hummed in agreement, and he knew she had thought about it. “Do you think she likes him back? Or is he hopeless?”

Smiling, Shoko took another puff, nodding at her friends as their senpai ran after Satoru because of something he did.

“Don’t you dare tell Gojo but, I think Utahime secretly finds him very attractive.”

“What? For real?” Suguru seemed to be baffled, raising an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”

“Because,” She started, breathing out the smoke. “She talks about him a lot for someone who supposedly doesn’t like him.”

Suguru only chuckled, staring at his girlfriend’s smug expression. “Does she? Oh, Satoru would love to know that.”

“You promised you wouldn’t tell him.” Shoko warned him, poking his cheek, making him wince. “And you won’t tell him. Let’s have fun and watch them figure it out.”

Laughing and making her put out the cigarette, Suguru took her hand in his and kissed it.

“You’re so mean, babe. We could make it easier for them.”

Shoko giggled, squeezing his cheeks with her fingers, giving him a fish mouth.

“Nah-ah. Let Gojo grow some balls first and see if he asks her out.”

Suguru gave her a breathtaking kiss in retaliation but, instead of complaining, she bit her lower lip as if waiting for more.

“No wonder you made it hard for me back in middle school.”

She smiled at his words, kissing the tip of his nose.

“Where’s the fun in making it easy?”

Chapter Text

Principal Yaga had to stop Utahime from bowing too much in gratitude for her reward as a tutor. She had to do her best to contain her tears of joy as she got out of his office, trying not to jump on one foot on her way to her classroom. She forgot her sorrows, feeling lucky for once at least, energized enough to deal with Gojo Satoru’s antics and spending more time with Shoko as her friend gave her some instructions about what she needed to take for her trip. Next week came soon, and she was eager to pack when it was time to go to the airport.

She had saved some money from her job at the Cafe, hiding it from her mother to buy some clothing instead of using her old rags; that would be enough. As she packed her bags in her bedroom carefully, Setsuko spotted her, glaring at her own daughter while Utahime made her best to ignore the hateful look coming from her mother.

“Off to have fun while the rest of us are left to rot?”

Calmly, the girl answered, never lifting her eyes from her suitcase.

“It’s a school trip. I will be back shortly, mom.”

Setsuko scoffed, disdainfully lighting up a cig as she spoke.

“Don’t bother coming back. Might not be anything left.”

All Utahime did was sigh, brushing her mother’s words off, for this wasn’t the first time Setsuko spat comments like that. When she was done, she shut her suitcase and took her backpack, standing in front of Setsuko as the woman stepped out of the room, a scornful expression on her face that made Utahime’s heart clench.

“I’ll be here by Saturday. Please, don’t get drunk.”

“As if.” Setsuko snorted, and a cloud of smoke came out of her mouth, reaching Utahime’s hair. The girl had turned her back already, on her way to the door, leaving a bitter woman behind that mumbled profanities as her daughter left and shut the door close.

Little did Utahime know that her own mother was plotting something against her. But ignorance was bliss, and she was determined to enjoy her trip as soon as she stepped out of the house, her mother’s words now being nothing but a cursed whisper at the back of her head.

She was happy on her way to the airport, and it was all that mattered. Even Shoko and Geto were there when she arrived to bid her farewell, leaving Gojo’s absence to linger in a corner of her brain, trying not to ask where he was. She wasn’t sure why she cared, but she did, a part of her burning to get some answers that would never come if she didn’t dare to ask. The Kyoto flight’s departure was announced through the loudspeakers and Utahime said her goodbyes as her friends waved at her until she was out of sight.

“I didn’t know you were friends with them,” the voice said when Utahime took her seat in the plane. Her seatmate was none other than Amanai Riko, and she was glad. Among all the choir members, the only one who had been genuinely nice to her had been this short, joyful black-haired girl; that was the reason why Ms. Kobayashi had booked their plane seats next to each other. She knew her students that well.

“Huh?” Utahime asked, turning her head to the girl. Riko smiled warmly, the plane about to take off.

“Ieiri-senpai and Geto-kun. You guys seem to be close.”

Her senpai giggled, shaking her head.

“Well. I guess Shoko is my friend. And Geto-kun is close to her so… Yeah.”

“That means you’re friends with Gojo Satoru, right? Everybody talks about that at school!”

“Friends with him?” Utahime asked, slightly abashed, a pink flush filling her cheeks.

“Yeah! If you’re friends with one of them, it means you’re friends with the three of them. So spit it out!”

Taken aback at her kohai’s eagerness, the senpai shrugged.

“Well, I’m not sure. One day he was just there and… It was just like that. He refused to leave,” the older girl rolled her eyes, a soft smile drawing on her lips as she looked down. “He’s so annoying… Sometimes I just want to gouge his eyes out…” Utahime laughed when she heard Riko’s snort.

“He’s one of a kind, huh. But he’s nice. I remember when he treated us all middle-schoolers to ice cream after winning one of his baseball’s matches in an inter school tournament. It was a funny day.”

The senpai’s smile widened. She liked baseball too, more than she wanted to admit.

“I guess he’s not always bad. He can be funny sometimes, and he’s really smart…” Noticing the knowing smile Riko was flaring at her, Utahime cleared her throat. “Anyway, why do you ask? Aren’t you too little to be so nosey?”

Blushing, Riko shrugged. Her embarrassment was hidden behind a loud cackle. “O—Oh, nothing! It’s just not everyday Gojo Satoru befriends someone. He’s only close with Ieiri-senpai and Suguru-kun, even though everyone wants to talk to him. I was curious.”

“Suguru-kun? Are you friends with Geto?”

Riko blushed harder, struggling to set her thoughts straight. “Ah… Oh… It’s just… He helped me out once from some bullies. He’s so nice and handsome… But he only gets along with Ieiri-senpai. I think he likes her, so… Ah! Anyway, Utahime-senpai, let’s do our best in Kyoto! I’m glad you could come with us!”

As they took off to their destination, Utahime quietly realized that her life was being filled with colors again; some of them were still faint, like the friendship that started blooming between her and Riko. Some others were clean and colorful, like the moments where she and Shoko laughed, when they ate lunch together and shared things they’d never share with anyone else, binding a bond stronger than anything they had had before…

This was the point where a wider, flamboyant range of hues came, one with shades and harmonies, sometimes warm, sometimes vibrant, but ever persevering since the moment he appeared in her life. Bright, pure and deep colors, all of them summed up in the mellow sparkle of ocean blue eyes, the blue of an infinite sky, illuminated by a newborn, dancing light.

He was the brightest of all her colors, a gush of fresh air; sometimes welcomed, sometimes not so much. But always there.

She didn’t realize, though, that she was already smiling at the thought of Gojo Satoru.

She would never know that he would smile at the thought of knowing she was being happy, there in Kyoto.

Satoru had been really pissed at his mother for forcing him to attend that stupid event the same day Utahime would be leaving.

He had settled on that Friday to go to the airport with Shoko and Suguru, but Kaede had thwarted his plans, making him wear a tuxedo that, in his opinion, made him look like a damn penguin. He went with her, nonetheless, but he would always be bitter about it. He had grimaced in disappointment when Suguru let him know that Utahime never asked for him; and he never said a thing, but his friend could say he had felt hurt.

Satoru didn’t mention her for the rest of the week, a tiny speck of resentment making a room in his heart. It was the first time he felt like this because of a girl. It was the first time he felt like this for anyone, actually.

And the sentiment was so strong that he couldn’t explain for certain what was the reason behind, wondering if he could find the answers as soon as he saw her again, entirely unaware of what was about to come for the week when she was supposed to be back.

Next Monday came, and Utahime didn’t attend school that day.

Shoko thought she might have caught a cold. Suguru agreed. Satoru said nothing.

She didn’t go to school on Tuesday either. An odd event, to tell the truth, for Utahime had never missed a single day of school, her record of attendance being perfect until now.

When Wednesday came and there was no sight of their senpai, the trio was already worried. And then Thursday and Friday again, but Utahime never came. They asked about her to her teachers and classmates, but none of them could give a proper answer. It was time to act now, to find the answers by themselves and know what on earth was going on with this girl. Satoru went to Yaga again to ask for her address; he had to beg, actually, the Principal refusing at first because he wasn’t allowed to do that, making an exception after his student explained the reason behind his request.

That’s how the three friends agreed to go and look for her after school that Friday, never expecting to find out about her raw and harsh reality the next time they could see her again.

Last Saturday:

Utahime could feel the mood shift at home as soon as she got back. She sensed something strange, something different, her mother being oddly quiet at her return, almost avoiding to look her in the eye. But she had been so happy in Kyoto and her team had done so well that she couldn’t see the point in being upset after all the joy she was feeling inside; when not even Kimura Nanako had dared to look at her during the whole trip. She would ignore her mother’s hostility, relying on the memories of her school trip and everything she saw and discovered along the way. 

Setsuko didn’t even glance at her daughter when the girl stepped in the messy living room, the clutter inside being a telltale of one of her drunken tantrums.

“I’m home, mom.” Utahime said as quietly as she could, dragging her suitcase into the house, taking her shoes off in the genkan. Already tipsy, her mother snorted, holding a bottle of some type of alcohol in her hand.

"I thought you would never come back."

The girl sighed, restraining her thoughts from coming out as words. She said nothing, getting into her bedroom instead to leave her belongings inside before going back to her mother to help her out.

She couldn’t. Her heart dropped as soon as she stepped in the room, just to find that Setsuko’s words before she left had been entirely true. There was something missing in her space, something important. Gasping, Utahime messed it all up even more, looking for her missing items.

There was none of it there. First, it was her small, old TV, a gift from one of her grandma’s friends that gave it to her when she moved out of town. Her calculator, the one that took her two months of her wage to buy because she needed it for the Math class. Two of her coats, the school winter coat and a beautiful expensive soft sweater that had been gifted by Shoko after her last visit; a gift Utahime was reluctant to accept but happy to receive… And her uniforms, the three of them, the ones Ieiri-san had given her last month. She always left them wrapped on plastic when not in use, hanging by the wall to keep them as neat as possible.

All of it was gone.

“What did you do?!” She cried, panicked, her heart in her throat, stomping to the kitchen where Setsuko lay on the floor, still drinking alcohol. Tears had started flooding her eyes as she faced her own mother. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

Ever heartless, the woman chuckled, her intoxicated voice filled with disdain.

“I told you, you silly girl, but you didn’t listen. That’s what you get for leaving me here to rot!”

“Where are my uniforms?! Tell me where they are! I need them to go to school!!” Utahime’s tears burned in her cheeks as she kneeled to shake her mother by her arms and the woman’s breath fanned over her face. Setsuko laughed.

“I pawned it all. I pawned everything! You better stop pretending you’re one of these rich kids because you’re no one. You will get nowhere. You were born to be like me, to be nobody. It was time for you to start getting a taste of reality, you stupid girl. I just did you a favor.”

Devastated, Utahime wept. Her mind was sent reeling, unable to comprehend how her mother could be so mean, so miserable, the woman who gave birth to her. Setsuko brushed her daughter’s hands off of her, leaving the girl kneeling on the floor, covering her crying eyes with her hands.

“Why did you do that?” Utahime sobbed, tears running down her face, lips wobbling in agony. She wouldn’t go to school anymore. Where could she get new uniforms from, as expensive as they were? How could she buy a new school bag? Who was going to help her now? Her voice cracked as she kept weeping. “Why do you hate me so much? What did I do to you?”

Suddenly enraged, Setsuko threw the bottle against the wall, leaving a mess of glass shards and wine on the floor.

“You were born! That’s what you did! I never wanted to have you, your dad did! He was so happy when I got pregnant, I just wanted to make him happy so I kept you. He wanted a fucking baby so badly… You took him from me, as soon as you were born! All his attention was for you, only you, and I hated you so much I couldn’t stand it!”

Callous to her daughter’s cries, Setsuko kept talking, inebriated, her words slurring from her sick, hardened heart.

“Even my own mother was against me when you were on the way. She made me keep you too, so here we are now. My biggest nuisance…” With a hateful glare burning in her dark eyes, the woman sobbed, words slashing her daughter’s heart mercilessly. “It shouldn’t have been my husband the one who died but you…”

At her 18 years of age, Utahime could have never fathomed how somber her mother’s feelings towards her were.

Being young when she got pregnant with her daughter, Setsuko couldn’t deal with the pressure of being an eighteen year old mother. She had always hated the way her husband loved the baby inside her, envying her from the very womb, her hatred only increasing after the birth, unable to magically connect with her and her motherly instinct.

Her baby’s eyes were her only saving grace. The only thing that, sometimes, had made the woman look at her in adoration because they were the spitting image of her husband… Until the bubble popped and she remembered that this wasn’t the man she loved, but their child. The baby he had named Utahime, because she was beautiful like a princess, and her quiet cries were like a bird’s singing.

Iori Kosuke died seven years later, on his way to get his daughter a birthday present. A car had hit him as he rushed to cross the avenue, excited at the thought of how his daughter’s eyes would shine when she could finally see the baseball toy set she wanted so much. But the toy set never got to its new owner, and daddy never made it home again.

That’s how Setsuko went insane with pain, blaming her own daughter for being the reason she lost the love of her life. That child and her stupid birthday, she had said days later, crying alone in her room, as her mother and the little girl listened to her sobs. She quickly spiraled into alcohol and drugs after, never caring for her child, filling her soul with disdain every time she looked at the little soul that had been born from her.

Utahime would have died out of starvation and lack of love if it wasn’t for her grandmother who, disappointed in her selfish daughter, took care of the child, always rooting for her, encouraging her granddaughter with all her heart, knowing that Setsuko was an awful and inattentive mother. Hayashi Mayumi was the woman who really raised Utahime, and her pension, the only thing that helped them survive until she passed away, when her grandchild was thirteen.

Utahime had been left on her own since then, having to mature too soon, her inner resilience being what kept her standing, her mother leaving the house often, not coming back for days or weeks. All she got from grandma was a small amount of money that helped her for a while before she could start working.

Of course, Setsuko never knew about this, or she would have gone straight to waste it all until the last penny on alcohol and other demons. Having to move to a shithole apartment—the one they lived in now—because the pension was no longer coming through was already bad, but her mother drinking away the Child Rearing Allowance she got from the government was even worse, bills and rent piling up, depending on Setsuko’s whims to pay or disappear, forcing her daughter to take a job for the weekends at the Cafe as soon as she turned 16.

It was never enough, though. But the girl would do anything in hands to not end up like her mother.

Ironically, Utahime’s face was the spitting image of Setsuko’s, hating to look at herself in the mirror most of the time, almost as much as she hated herself now, crying her sorrow out. Even when she had mastered many years ago the dull art of being alone, her young heart still ached. Who else could even love her someday if her own mother despised her so much?

Her tears were unstoppable, realizing not only the magnitude of her mother’s feelings, but also the fact that, now, she wouldn’t have a future anymore. With all her things gone, what could she do? She was alone, and she knew that her luck never lasted long. Shoko’s dad wouldn’t come to her again to give her another set of uniforms like he had done last time. Nobody would appear out of thin air to replace what she had lost.

She was doomed.

Her future had been shattered under selfish vices and disdainful words.

Setsuko’s heart never flinched at her daughter’s sobs and whimpers. Instead, she kicked an old stool in the kitchen as she took another bottle from the fridge to keep drinking, indifferent to the girl’s despair.

“The landlord is breathing down my neck, so you better go to your grandparents and ask for money, because there’s none to pay for the rent this month.”

That was the last thing Utahime heard from her mother before the woman got out of the house to disappear for a whole month, again. She would go, because her father’s parents were her only option. She knew already what they would say, she knew they would ditch her and insult her mother for being an alcoholic whore. She would go, when her tears had faded away and she had finally resigned herself to the fact that she would simply have to work and maybe complete the year at a regular school after losing her scholarship.

Her mother was right: that’s what she got for leaving, even though Setsuko had spent more than half of her life leaving her alone.

But it was all her fault.

Gone were her dreams of a future where she was a teacher and helped kids to overcome life itself as she did, showing them the good side of the world so they would never lose hope.

But how could she dream of a world like this if her hope had already slipped through her fingers like water?

Even when she missed school and the friends she had made, Utahime was aware that no one would come and save her from her hell and woke up earlier that Monday to ask for more hours at the cafeteria. Another week would pass by as she mourned her fate within, where no one could see her sorrow and vulnerability, smiling to the customers as they ordered their meals, oblivious to the pain of a lonely young girl.

That would be exactly how Gojo Satoru would find her one week after she was back home: a tired smile on her face as she took orders, looking exhausted as sadness filled her eyes.

One week later:

It was Friday the day he promised to himself, as he stared at her through the cafeteria window, that he would never let her cry again.

The Sanya neighborhood was nothing like Satoru had seen before, and the sight made him wonder if this was the right address, or maybe Principal Yaga had given him the wrong one. Suguru had offered to go with him, due to the bad reputation of the place, but he’d rather wanted him to go look nearby than waste precious time by looking for her together. That’s how they parted ways for their search, as Shoko waited for them in a safe spot, even when she had begged them to let her go with them.

But they said no. Instead, they would let her know when Utahime appeared.

Near Tamahime park, boozers, day laborers and recyclers reunited to play chess after work, and homeless people wandered in the streets carrying their belongings in old shopping carts. One of them stumbled into him, startling the kid and laughing at him when his face winced in a horrified expression. This was utterly new for the Gojo heir, and he couldn’t help feeling scared and intimidated.

Most of the neighborhood’s inhabitants stared at him as he crossed the streets, wondering what a boy like him, who exuded wealth, was doing in a place like this. His pristine baseball club uniform spoke of his status, and his signature white hair told them that he didn’t belong here. Disoriented, Satoru tripped on the sidewalk, alarmed at his surroundings. His mind tried—as quickly as it could—to process the world around him, now aware of the fact that poor neighborhoods like this one actually existed, and Utahime lived in one of them, even if he refused to believe it at first.

This reality was so shocking that the sudden feeling almost made him forget the main reason why he was here.

A little bit distressed and looking for her address, Satoru tracked it down through a kind but blabbermouth neighbor. The old lady told him where Utahime lived, engaging him in an awkward conversation about the Iori family and how Setsuko always left her daughter alone to drink and spend her days elsewhere but home. She told him how Utahime-chan was a hardworking girl, nothing like her mother, giving him as well the address of the place she should be working at. He thanked her, very much affected by this wave of information, and kept walking.

This was really, really a weird world he wasn’t familiar with at all, and wondered how Utahime could fit in it. But certainly, she didn’t fit at all.

He finally found her, after ten minutes of walking and asking. He was lucky that most women, old and young, were ready to help him, charmed by his looks and voice. Some of them even dared to ask for his phone number, but he only smiled, thanking them and leaving as quickly as he could. And he stopped, his eyes finally spotting the cafeteria, finding a tired Utahime through the shop’s window while she attended to customers.

He hesitated, wondering if he should get in and drag her out or not. But, as smart as he was, he thought that it was better to wait till the end of her shift instead of barging into her workplace and getting her in trouble.

He was nonchalant and careless sometimes, but it didn’t mean he was insensitive to her situation, even when he didn’t understand it entirely.

Gladly for him, her shift ended fifteen minutes later.

“Utahime…” He rushed to speak, startling her with his voice as she came out of the shop, utterly spent. “I’ve been looking for you.”

She found him sitting on a bench outside, his face serious and his eyes staring straight into her. The girl stared back, surprised, biting her lower lip as he kept talking.

“Why haven’t you come back? We were worried about you, we haven’t seen you in a whole week and you never skip school. What’s wrong, Utahime?”

Gripping her small bag close to her body, Utahime thought she had been numb, resigning herself to losing her dreams as days passed by. But the sight of Gojo Satoru in front of her brought back the hope she wanted to leave behind. Because they cared, her friends had been looking for her when she thought nobody gave a damn about her.

“I—” She started, but her voice cracked right away as she struggled to hold back her tears. But Iori Utahime was too prideful, too stubborn to let anyone see the hole in her heart, thinking it was better to run away than let him ask for more.

What she didn’t know was that this boy, Gojo Satoru, could be even more stubborn than her.

“Please,” she could hear his voice begging as he grabbed her wrist to stop her from leaving. “I— We don’t know what to do. So please, could you tell us what’s going on?”

And suddenly, she burst into tears, sobbing, her small shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Satoru had seen girls crying before, but none of them had pulled at his heartstrings like this one was doing right now. Even when he panicked, he rushed to take her into his arms, warmth seeping through his skin, letting her know she wasn’t alone.

“It’ll be okay. Whatever has happened, it’ll be okay. Tell me what’s wrong, princess, and I promise you will cry no more.”

He swore to himself that he would be her comfort, her fort against danger. Satoru discovered that his heart clenched before her tears, and promised to be her shield from now on, as she sobbed within his arms. He had never comforted anyone before, but it came so naturally to hold her close and tell her that she got him, that he would back her up, and she was amazing to him, no matter where she came from.

She wasn’t alone. He was there now.

He would always be.

Chapter Text

He took her to the bench where he had been waiting for her and held her until her tears ceased a bit. His hands were around her arms, restraining himself from touching more than that, even if it was by accident. Satoru had never comforted a girl before, but he was sure that he didn’t want to screw it up with Utahime.

As soon as her sobs stopped, he leaned back to take a better look at her and took his handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe her tears away.

“How did you know where I—.” She was the first to talk, blushing when she saw him smiling tenderly at her.

“I was worried, so I went to Yaga-sensei and asked for your address. It took me almost all afternoon!” He screamed, waving his hands boisterously to make her laugh. He succeeded, very much against her will. “You live so far away!”

She sniffled, rolling her eyes at him.

“I didn’t want you guys to see this.”

“Hey! We found you, and that’s what matters! We don’t care where you live, Uta. Suguru and Shoko are around, looking for you too. We parted ways to see who found you first, and I won. That fucker owes me an ice cream. I’m better at following trails than him.” He seemed excited, blinking behind his dark sunglasses. Utahime saw a faint pink coloring on his cheeks, and she wasn’t sure if it was due to the summer heat. Cicadas chirped around them, already calling for midyear vacations.

“Shut up. You don’t have to be so noisy.”

“Okay, okay. It’s just… I’m…” Satoru stopped, breathing heavily. His blue eyes slowly locked on hers above the edge of his glasses, and she swore she could feel a strange swirl in her stomach. “I’m happy I found you... I mean, we’re gonna be all happy when they know you’re here, too.”

“Sometimes I think that you forgot about the paint thing.”

Satoru let out a cackle that made her want to cover her ears.

“I didn’t! How could I forget that you made me look like a Smurf for half an hour? I’m just waiting to get my payback when you treat me to dessert and show me around. That was the deal for me to forgive you.”

His laughter was so infectious that she was able to forget her misery for a little while.

“I won’t do that.”

“I don’t know what you will do then, but I’ll get my payback.”

His heart pounded so hard when she smiled that he thought it was coming out of his throat. Satoru calmed himself down by pausing his own chatter as he stared at her profile while the girl’s gaze traveled to a line of ants on the ground. He remembered again why he was here and how he had seen her cry, knowing he had to do something.

Absent-mindedly, his hand traveled to the strand of dark hair on her cheek and hid it behind her ear. Utahime shivered, closing her eyes at the sudden but pleasant sensation that ran through her body when he touched her, even if it was briefly. Her skin tickled where he had touched her, missing the light way his fingers had brushed her cheek.

It felt like magic, like the driving force she needed to keep going, until the next chance for him to touch her came again, like a spark, like a new kind of energy driven by their need to be together once more.

“Won’t you tell me what happened?”

His question triggered an inner bleeding in her soul, something that made her wince, averting her gaze from his.

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I’m afraid you have to, or I won’t go home until you do so.”

Utahime sighed, taking her time. She knew he could be strong-willed, and he meant it when he said he wouldn’t go anywhere until she told him.

But she didn’t have to tell them all her raw, cruel story. She could still skip the darker parts and tell what she thought fit the most.

“This… This isn’t easy for me.” She started, taking deep breaths to gain the strength to say as much as she could. “My… My mom had to...” Even being impatient by nature, Satoru waited until she was ready. He was willing to wait all night long for her if needed. “My mom... She pawned a lot of things to pay off someone we owed. My uniforms, my calculator...” Upset and in tears, Utahime’s voice broke again. This was a cumbersome situation for a girl who had managed on her own for years, never letting anyone see her weaknesses, afraid that they could hurt her further.

“Pawn?” He asked, bewildered. Of course. A boy like him wouldn’t understand what that word meant.

“It’s when you—”

“I know what it is,” He retorted, his voice somewhat twitchy. “I mean… Why would someone do that?”

Of course. A boy like him wouldn’t know why people pawned things. He had never done that in his life before. But Utahime’s patience wasn’t running out today, not when he was so eager to hear her.

“Not everyone has the means, Gojo... We are poor. That’s why I’m a scholarship student. I couldn’t go to your Academy if it weren’t for that scholarship. Now I don’t have my uniforms, and I can’t go to school anymore.”

Trying to understand every word, Satoru frowned. This whole concept of living was totally different for him, and Yaga’s words about her mother still itched in his mind.

“Okay. I get it, but why your uniforms? Why not… I don’t know: your computer or your TV? Or some valuable jewelry? Every mom has something valuable, right?”

A sad smile crossed Utahime’s lips. It was obvious he didn’t get the complete picture of her circumstances. How could she explain that a computer was too expensive for her?

Her kohai didn’t dare touch her again, but he was so attentive that she felt encouraged to keep going.

“No. Not every mom, not mine. And… I’m not sure, I—” She struggled to explain why her mother had chosen to pawn off all of her uniforms. Or that she didn’t have a computer to begin with. “But it’s fine.”

“Fine?” He blinked, not believing his ears. How could she say that? “Why would you think that’s fine?”

“Because… There was nothing else to do. There is nothing else to give.”

As Utahime spoke, Suguru and Shoko finally found their friends. But the short-haired girl made her boyfriend stop before they could come closer, noticing the intimacy of the moment as the couple talked, sitting on the bench as if it were their own bubble. Suguru had gone looking for her before it got later so they could start looking for Satoru together, and now that they had found him, they knew they couldn’t barge in on them. Not when Satoru and Utahime seemed to be talking comfortably, lost in each other’s comfort.

However, they wouldn’t lose the chance to peep on them out of curiosity, hiding behind a bush with knowing eyes and muffled giggles.

“No. It’s not fine, Utahime—”

“Senpai.” She corrected him, in spite of their conversation. He quickly brushed her off.

“There’s no time for that nonsense now, Utahime. How could you say it’s fine when your mom took it all from you?”

“She had to!” She snapped, afraid that he would find out the truth. Little did she know, he already had some idea of who Iori Setsuko was.

No, she didn’t. I know about your mom, Utahime. It’s easy to put two and two together to see that she—”

“No. You know nothing.” She wasn’t ready for this, stricken to know that he knew. Tears had started flooding her eyes again. “Don’t come here to tell me that because you clearly know nothing, Gojo.”

“Maybe. But you should have told us about this instead of leaving. Aren’t we your friends? We want to help you! Shoko and Suguru are also looking for you.”

“For what? Why? To make you all feel pity on me?”

“No! I don’t pity you!” Satoru said, outraged. He stood up from his seat, getting a little crabby. “I can help you, Utahime. I can buy everything for you, anything you need.”

“What?” She gasped, blushing. If it was out of shock, shyness, or rage, she didn’t know. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I don’t want you to skip school... You’re one of the best students and you’re smart and... Just because I wanna help you, fuck it. I can buy your uniforms, all brand new. A new calculator, anything! Just—”

At this point, Utahime’s blood was boiling in her veins. She hated feeling like a burden or like he might be pitying her, and she was so prideful that she couldn’t deal with it. Standing on her feet, holding her bag tight, she pushed away from him.

“I can do that myself. I don’t need you to do that! What is it to you anyway?”

“I care for you! Why are you being so stubborn if you have someone who can easily make things better for you?”

Watching the argument from afar, Shoko thought it was time to intervene, but Suguru stopped her this time.

“I told you I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not—” Satoru stopped, his hands on his head. He was having a hard time trying to understand this girl, almost losing his patience because he had never done this in his life before. “How can I help you then? Let me help you, Utahime.”

She took her time to answer, turning her back on him. Her lips wobbled as tears ran down her cheeks again. Feeling helpless, she felt her own insecurities whispering intrusive thoughts of him wanting to mock her. And nothing was farther from the truth.

“Get lost, then.” She suddenly said, ghosts of tears wavering in her voice. “That’s the only way you can help me.”

Struck by her bitter words, Satoru went utterly silent.

His mind struggled for seconds, trying to find a proper answer to that. But sadly, there were none. He knew she meant it.

She wished she hadn’t said that, but it was too late. And she was too hurt, too sorrowful to care. His life was already way easier than hers.

“Fine…” He said it after a while. “Fine.”

She could hear the heels of his cleats as he got away from her, oblivious to the hole she had blown in his heart, her tongue an ice-cold gun.

Once again, Utahime would play the big girl, totally on her own. She would eventually forget about this boy named Gojo Satoru, about the academy, and anything that reminded her of it. She would learn how to start again, too busy trying to move on to care for or befriend rich kids who would easily forget about her as soon as she was out of sight.

She would move forward, and it would be all on her own.

But he would never be able to forget her because he had never felt so alive before. At sixteen, Gojo Satoru had found the missing piece of his puzzle, losing it as soon as it appeared. Even if it hurt, he wouldn’t be where he wasn’t wanted, wondering if this kind of feeling had a name.

Walking away, Satoru spotted his friends and passed by them, the look in their eyes telling him that they had witnessed every second of his heartbreak.

“Satoru?” Suguru said, as worry formed little wrinkles between his eyebrows. Shoko wanted to hold his hand, but he was quick to brush her off as he kept walking.

They knew. It would take him some time.

“Let’s go. There’s nothing else to do here.”

Suguru knew his best friend better than anyone, even his own mother. So he was not oblivious to Satoru’s ache, disguised as anger after his argument with Utahime-senpai. He was sure that it was in his and Shoko’s hands to fix this squabble and make her understand that things were never as she thought they were. He could understand Utahime’s pain as well, for—like her—his family had been poor once; but Satoru was, above all, his brother, and he couldn’t leave him alone drowning in his own thoughts.

That’s why he decided to visit Utahime along with Shoko the next Monday after school, aware of Satoru’s state: pissed, hurt, and mad at himself for caring, resolving that he would never talk to her again if that was what she wanted. He would even forget about her if necessary, promising himself that he would forget her no matter what. Gojo Satoru was proud like that, but wounded first and foremost.

As his best friend, Suguru couldn’t let things go on like that.

“You sure she'll be out soon?” Shoko asked as she waited with her boyfriend outside of Utahime’s workplace. They went straight to Sanya after school.

“Yeah. Satoru told me her shift ended at five last Friday. He looked at his wristwatch, and they heard the Cafe door suddenly opening under the bell’s jingling. “See? Here she comes.”

Moving along together, the couple stopped in front of Utahime as soon as she came out of the shop.

“Utahime-senpai!” Shoko said, jumping on her friend to hug her after a long absence, while Suguru carried the big bag she had taken with her, something very important being inside. Utahime hugged her too, even though her kohai caught her by surprise. They had really missed each other, and Suguru smiled at the scene.

“Shoko, what are you doing here?” Their senpai almost stopped, realizing right away that of course they had to know it all because of Gojo. Before Shoko could say anything, Suguru chirped in, not wanting to waste time.

“Senpai, we came here to talk to you.”

Of course. They were his friends. Utahime’s expression switched immediately, frowning slightly at Geto’s request.

“About what?” She asked defensively as she let Shoko go. Her friend was the one to answer this time.

“Why don’t we sit first?” The short-haired girl asked, heading to the same bench Utahime and Satoru had sat on last Saturday, two days ago. As the two friends took a seat, Suguru remained standing, the bag over his shoulder, his hands behind his back.

“First of all, I’m glad we could find you, senpai. We were worried about you.” Geto explained, his signature politeness slipping through his voice. Shoko agreed, nodding, and Utahime could only hum in response. “I apologize if we’re making you uncomfortable by coming here and...”

“No,” she interrupted him, a sad smile on her lips. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I’m glad to see you guys again, too.”

“Why didn’t you come to us?” Shoko said suddenly, so concerned that she forgot she could scare her friend away if she asked something like that.

“I—. I didn’t want to bother any of you.”

“You would never bother, Utahime. You are our friend too, and friends are never a burden.” Taking her senpai’s hands, Shoko looked into her eyes. Suguru stared at them, now relieved. He knew how worried his girlfriend had been, too. “I can’t even guess how hard this was for you to endure, and I won’t ask why you didn’t tell me. But remember, I’m on your side, Uta. Always. I admire you, and since the moment I knew you, I wanted to be like you. You’ve made me see things so differently.”

Shifting in her spot, Shoko threw her arms around her friend’s neck in a tight hug again until Utahime was bursting into tears. Suguru could only watch as a tender smile filled his lips.

“Shoko…”

“You’re not only my senpai but my very best friend. The only one I’ve ever had. How could I ever look down on you? I like you just the way you are. You don’t need to pretend, I swear. I don’t care where you come from. You’ll always be my best friend.”

Utahime’s lip wobbled in her shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. Shoko held her until her body stopped shaking.

“You’re my best friend too, Shoko.” The older girl mumbled through tears as her kohai cupped her face in her hands.

“I will always respect you, no matter what. Is that clear?”

Pouting, Utahime smiled and nodded.

“You sound like your dad.” She said, and they both laughed when Shoko shrugged.

Suguru didn’t smile at this, though. But the girls never noticed.

Shoko let go of the senpai’s face when her boyfriend took out a napkin so she could wipe away her tears.

“You better now?” Suguru asked, still standing. Utahime agreed, sniffling for the last time.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“Good. Senpai, I know that this can make you uncomfortable, but there’s something I’d like to talk about.”

Utahime bit her lip, looking aside.

“I know. And maybe I shouldn’t have treated him like that…”

“Well, I have to admit you’re right: you shouldn't have. My best friend is so hurt that he barely talked to us this morning at school, and that’s something odd coming from someone like him who never shuts up.”

There was a brief moment of silence while Suguru and Shoko let their senpai reflect on their conversation.

“He’s a brat,” Shoko chimed in. “But he really cares for you. And if you really don’t want him to talk to you again, he won’t. Gojo can be stubborn and prideful too…”

“I just—” Utahime tried to excuse, or maybe explain herself. “I just didn’t understand why he wanted to do all that.”

“I told you: he cares. He might seem to be egotistical and arrogant at times, but nothing is farther from the truth.”

“Shoko is right,” Suguru said, his hands in his pockets now. “You know… People who don’t know Satoru as well as we do can get a bad impression of who he is. I bet you have wondered why he’s popular but doesn’t really get along with just anyone, and there’s a good reason for that. You’ll see, Satoru’s life may seem like that of a king, but he’s often left alone at home too.” Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Suguru kept talking. “He doesn’t have a lot of experience dealing with people because of how sheltered he grew up. He tends to put his foot in his mouth sometimes and be rude, but... Give him a chance, Senpai. I know he means well. His heart is still pure.”

Utahime’s heart felt like clenching.

As Geto spoke, she realized he was hinting at something that spoke of real loneliness. She felt so bad, now knowing that she had seen his sadness before, connecting dots, recalling how his mood had changed that day back in Shoko’s dad's car when the doctor talked about Mrs. Gojo, and suddenly something made sense.

She wondered what kind of relationship he had with his family and if it was as dysfunctional as hers. But she wouldn’t ask, and Geto wouldn’t tell her, because he wouldn’t expose his best friend’s problems, his lonesomeness, or the way his mother acted, because, above all, Satoru deserved his respect and loyalty.

Suguru felt tempted for a second to tell her about the trip to Kyoto and her benefactor as well, but Satoru made him swear that he would never let her know that. He was hurt; that was the truth, but he never wanted to humiliate her, much less make her feel that she owed him something.

That would have been devastating for her, and Shoko wouldn't have allowed him to do so.

“I don’t come from wealth, senpai,” He continued. Shoko was rubbing Utahime’s shoulder as she just listened, her eyes downcast. “My parents haven’t always been rich. But Satoru never cared about that, and neither did Shoko, while everyone at school looked down on me just because I was new money —”

“Suguru, don’t say that.” Shoko reprimanded him.

“You know it’s true. That’s what I am.” He said firmly. “But the thing here is: out of the things Satoru and I have fought about, he’s never once brought up where I come from. So you shouldn’t just assume he’s feeling pity for you if he wants to help you, because that is not the truth. It’s not who he is. He’s my friend; I’ve known him since we were twelve, and that’s enough for me to tell you that he genuinely wants to help.”

Suguru shut his mouth before letting out his biggest thought about his senpai: that she was being unfair to Satoru out of resentment. But he wouldn’t say it, because that was something she needed to figure out by herself.

She did, though. 

“How can I...” Utahime cleared her throat, hints of tears still holding on to her throat. “How can I apologize to him?”

Shoko smiled. She wanted her two friends to patch things up too, because now they weren’t a trio anymore but a foursome, at least until Utahime graduated. She didn’t want to think that this was her best friend’s last year at school. There were still a lot of months left until the academic year ended.

“You know what? That moron has a sweet tooth, so you can give him something yucky like that.” The short-haired girl said, making her giggle. As the girls spoke, Suguru went to an ice cream cart nearby to buy popsicles for the three of them; the summer heat already making them sweat.

"You think it works? What if he laughs at me? He might do that—."

Shoko laughed, cutting her speech. “He won't do that. Trust me. He might try to tease you, for sure. That can happen. But that depends on his mood. He only makes fun of people who deserve it.”

“Shoko, he has made fun of me before.” Utahime retorted, deadly serious. Her friend rolled her eyes.

“What? No. You haven’t seen him making fun of people, Utahime. He really could make you cry if he does that. Anyway, buying something sweet for him could be a good way to say sorry.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Suguru chimed in as he bit on his popsicle and handed over the other two to the girls. Shoko seemed relieved at the taste of something cold, as did their senior. “Because you were kinda mean, senpai.”

“Suguru, don’t be like that.” Shoko said, rolling her eyes as she savored her popsicle. Her tongue was blue now. Utahime’s: orange. Suguru’s: red. “She’s having a hard time too.”

“What? I’m not mistaken. I’m sorry, senpai. But you hurt Satoru, and he’s my best friend.” He said, throwing a look at Shoko that made her go quiet this time when she knew he was being serious about this.

“Okay. I’m sorry. And thanks for the popsicle.”

“Anytime.”

Avoiding tension before it settled over them, Shoko finished her popsicle and reached out to Suguru.

“Give me the bag.”

He did it, as heavy as it was, placing it on Shoko’s thighs before she could lift its whole weight. His girlfriend was quick to put it on Utahime’s legs instead.

“Uta, this is for you. Please!” She held her hand up. “Don’t say you can’t take it; don’t say this is too much. Just open it when you get home, and we will be waiting for you at school tomorrow. Please don’t make me repeat myself. I’m not good at asking for things.”

“But, Shoko…” The black-haired girl stuttered, already guessing what was inside the huge bag.

“No buts. Just take it.”

“You better listen to her, senpai. You don’t wanna see her angry.” Suguru replied as he kept the popsicle stick in his pocket. Utahime snorted when Shoko glared at him.

“Gotta go home now. See you tomorrow at school. Promise me you will go.” The youngest girl said, standing up from the bench. Leaving her stuff aside for a while, Utahime followed her suit and hugged her too.

“I promise. Thank you so much, Shoko. And you too, Geto-kun.” Utahime said. Suguru nodded, and so did Shoko, letting go of her.

“Nothing to thank us for. See you tomorrow, senpai.”

They walked away, hand in hand, while Utahime waved them goodbye. She smiled, wondering what she had done to find such good friends when she thought she had none. It wasn’t about money, much less about what they could give her. It was about them caring for her and her well-being, and this fact filled her heart with an indescribable feeling she thought had long been forgotten: the sense of having a family again, something she hadn’t felt since her father and grandmother passed away.

When she got home, she cried again; this time, there were tears of happiness.

There was a whole set of uniforms in the bag, new shoes, a cute school bag—much better than the one she had before—and even a brand new calculator like the ones her rich classmates used. She couldn’t believe her eyes or her luck. Thanks to her friends, she would be able to go back to school, her dreams reigniting again like flames. She cried in the solitude of her small room and thanked the heavens above, promising that she would do her best and that she would make her friends feel proud.

She would make herself proud.

And she would apologize to Gojo, too. Not only because he deserved it. But also because there was a tiny tingling in her stomach every time she saw him; furthermore, even when she didn’t want to acknowledge it, she was sure she didn’t want him to stop annoying the hell out of her.

Utahime closed her eyes, tired because she had pulled together her meager ingredients to make some sweets, pouring her whole heart into it. As she drifted off to sleep, she saw the deep, blue of his eyes in her mind, brighter than a morning sky.

She would dream of him all night long.

Chapter Text

Utahime woke up early that Tuesday, took a cold shower, and put on her new uniform. As she tied her hair in two pigtails in front of the mirror, the girl sighed, wondering what he would say when he saw her again. She was so happy to be going back, but so nervous as well about her whole issue with Gojo Satoru. Thus, steeling herself and armed with the baked desserts in her bag, she left in a hurry.

As she took the train to Yokohama, she wondered why she felt so anxious when thinking of him. Truth be told, she didn’t want to anticipate the events of the day and pay attention to any intrusive thoughts she could have about him not forgiving her, but anxiety was already eating at her guts when she got off the train and walked all the way to school, ignoring for the first time all the rich kids getting out of their limos and cars when she was the only one who went to school by train, having to walk a 10 minutes road from the station.

However, today she only cared about Gojo Satoru and his reaction; a part of her already annoyed at her inability to take him out of her head.

One of her kohai—gladly—cut her train of thought before she could crash against something in the school’s front yard.

“Senpaaaaai!!” Amanai said, her sing-song voice making her lift her head. The middle-school girl waved her hand at her until she was close enough. Utahime smiled.

“Riko-chan!”

“Were you sick? We missed you at the rehearsals! I asked Kobayashi-sensei about you, but she told me she didn’t know. She was worried too! Are you okay?”

“I am. I just… I couldn’t come last week.”

“But you’re here now! That’s awesome! Senpai, guess what? Kimura-san tried to take your place, but Kobayashi-sensei told her that we had to wait until you came again. You should have seen her face. She wanted to kill someone!” Riko’s laugh made Utahime smile too. The girl’s buzz was somehow infectious. “But you won’t leave us like that again, right?”

“No,” the oldest girl said, shaking her head. “I won’t. I promise.”

“Good! I’m happy to have you back, senpa—”

“Utahime-senpai!” A new voice appeared from behind, cutting Riko’s speech. As soon as Utahime heard it, she knew it was Shoko. She turned around and stopped to wait for her kohai. She didn’t notice it, but Riko’s demeanor changed drastically from the moment Shoko made her appearance.

“Shoko! I’m back.”

“I knew you’d be here.” Shoko said, closing the distance between them to hug her senpai. As soon as she noticed Riko, the youngest girl cleared her throat, calling Utahime’s attention.

“Anyway, I’m glad you’re here again, Senpai. Gotta go. Bye.”

“Thanks, Riko-chan. See you.”

Shoko’s lip twisted as their kohai walked away, her arm on Utahime’s shoulder. Her expression didn’t go unnoticed by her senpai.

“Ready to start again?” The short-haired girl asked, quickly averting her gaze from Riko’s distancing shape.

“Yeah… Is something wrong with Riko-chan, Shoko?”

Shoko rolled her eyes, grunting underneath her breath.

“Nothing. It’s just… I think that she’s got a soft spot for Suguru, and it makes me uncomfortable.” Even when Utahime knew about this, she said nothing. “That’s all. Nevermind. I’m glad I found you, Senpai. I need you to come with me during today’s morning assembly.”

“What? Are we gonna skip it?”

“Uh-uh.”

“No! But…” Utahime stuttered as Shoko started dragging her to some unknown destination around the school. “What if any of the teachers catch us? We might—”

“Nothing will happen. Trust me. Come on, let’s go!”

As the oldest girl let her friend lead her way, Satoru was already on his way to the schoolyard to wait for the morning meeting. He had been absolutely silent since the moment he stepped into the school, and not even Suguru could rip a single word out of his throat.

“Hey you, butthead.” His best friend said again as he kicked his calf. Satoru only groaned, his eyes focused on the small video console in his hands that his mom had sent from abroad. He was the first kid to have someone like that at school; gameboys were too expensive for anyone to afford. “Satoru, hear me the fuck out.”

“What!” He complained, frowning. The sound of his device told Suguru that he was playing a small version of Tetris, and before Satoru could save it in his pocket, he snatched it from his friend’s hands. “Hey!”

“Come with me.”

“Where the fuck?”

“Shut up and come with me, goddammit. I need you to help me with something.”

“Why don’t you go alone?”

“Because I can’t, you lazy ass.”

“Where’s Shoko?” Satoru asked, standing up, very much against his will. His best friend was practically grabbing him by the collar of his summer uniform.

“Waiting for us.”

“Where! I hate being in the dark, Suguru.”

“You hate not having control over things. So be quiet and come with me.”

Rolling his eyes, Satoru staggered, almost leaving Suguru to carry all his weight on purpose. They went through one and two floors before reaching their destination: the painting room. As soon as Satoru was inside, Suguru looked around, finding Shoko at the end of the corridor and giving him the signal to lock the door from outside.

“Suguru, what the—”

“I’m sorry, bud. You can’t leave until you talk to Utahime-senpai.”

Satoru turned around, dumbfounded. He couldn’t notice another presence in the room, too busy with his friend’s actions, but suddenly he saw her there too, as the girl rushed to the door in a futile attempt to keep the door open. This wasn’t part of their deal. Shoko never told her about this.

When she thought about apologizing to Gojo Satoru, she never meant to do it like this.

“Geto-kun, open the door!”

“I can’t, Senpai. Shoko told me it’s not possible until you two come to terms.” His voice came almost muffled from outside, but they could still hear him.

“Suguru! Open the damn door!”

“Not allowed. I’m sorry, bro.” Suguru held back a giggle along with Shoko as she hunkered down under the window to not be seen until she got to Suguru.

“Geto-kun, please. I need to talk to Shoko.”

“She’s not here. She left for the morning meeting.”

“Suguru, don’t be a moron and stop lying. I know Shoko is there!”

“No, she isn’t. I’m leaving too. I’ll be back in thirty, and if you guys didn’t make it up, then you’ll have to be locked inside for the rest of the period.”

“Is she your boss or something? I thought you had guts!”

With a cheeky grin, Suguru snorted. Shoko waved her hands in the air, trying to gain some air before her choked laughs made her lose consciousness.

“She is my boss. Anyway, see ya!”

Even when their friends remained outside of the classroom, no matter how many times they asked for the door to be opened, nobody answered.

Even if they were petty, it was hard to ignore each other. She went quiet, noticing his efforts to ignore her when he took a seat next to the window. He knew Suguru and Shoko were still outside and felt tempted to ask, at least, for his gameboy, but he guessed they wouldn’t answer him this time either. So, his best card was to avoid her gaze at all costs.

That was until Utahime couldn’t bear it anymore, taking out of her school bag the small lunch with two cupcakes and five chocolate cookies inside.

“I—” She took a breath before talking again. “I’m sorry!” Her apology was almost a scream, clutching the dessert box in her hands against her chest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know they would do that!”

She knew she should be giving it to him and apologizing properly for how she had snapped at him the other day, but his frosty demeanor and his steely expression made her hesitate.

Satoru only scoffed. “It’s fine. Don’t worry, I won’t make you talk to me. We’ll just wait for them until they take us out.”

She frowned, not really wanting that. Steeling herself, Utahime sighed and made her way in front of him, looking tiny, adorable, with a halo of purity surrounding her shape. His eyes betrayed him as he reluctantly looked over at her.

She looked beautiful and healthy, her face clear without the cloud of grief from the other day, and it eased his heart a little. He didn’t notice it, but his heart skipped a beat out of relief at the thought of knowing she was okay now.

She was the prettiest girl he had seen in his entire life, but he wouldn’t tell her that.

Something awakened in him when his eyes caught her biting her lower lip.

“I— I’m sorry. A-actually, this was my idea."”

“Huh?” She had his full attention now, his eyes widening a bit. “Your idea?”

Utahime nodded. “I mean, not to be locked in here... But this…” She cleared her throat, keeping her cool as much as she could. Almost shoving the box in his hands, she presented it to him, bowing slightly, her cute pigtails swaying forward, and silently taking his breath out of his lungs at the sight. “A peace offering!”

Confused, Gojo arched an eyebrow, holding the little box.

“What are you doing?” He was frowning now. Utahime got red, her face all flustered, embarrassed as she straightened up.

“I’m sorry!” She suddenly blurted out. “I’m sorry for treating you badly the other day! I didn’t mean what I said. I was angry! But not at you... You… I—” Stuttering, the girl did her best to keep talking, hesitating at the look in his eyes that was now staring deeply at her every movement, bewildered. She bit her lip again. “It was me! I just felt insecure and… And I took it out on you when you were only trying to help me!”

Instead of saying something, Satoru put the box on the desk in front of him and started opening it. The sweet aroma made his mouth water even before he could see what was inside, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he saw the content.

“What’s this?”

Blushing and scared of what he might think, Utahime stammered.

“It’s—”

“Is this supposed to be... Me?” He asked, unable to take his eyes away from the cupcakes’ topping. A face with creepy blue eyes, white frosting as hair, and red fondant as a sticking-out tongue was adorning the dessert. Hesitant, Utahime nodded. “Is this how you see me?”

His laughter made a chorus to his question, his heart totally softened. She knew he wasn’t prickling anymore.

“It’s… What you look like.”

“I’m afraid you need glasses. I’m more handsome than this.”

Utahime blushed even harder when he smirked, taking the first bite after a while of admiring her creation and laughing in the process. She wasn’t aware of it, but the gush of happiness that was swirling inside him almost made his heart pop out of his chest.

And even when she remained oblivious to the butterflies in her stomach, she was happy to see him delighted and savoring what she had made for him.

“Oh. Hmmm, wow. This is good. Where did you learn to make those?”

“My grandma. She taught me how to bake. Look, I’m truly sorry, Gojo. It wasn’t about you… You’re annoying, but you're not so bad.”

“Annoying? Me?” He cackled, wiping cupcake crumbs off his mouth with the back of his hand before taking another bite. 

“Yes. But—” She tried to apologize again, yet he only laughed.

“Okay, I admit it, I have a terrible personality.” He made her laugh again, and his heart jumped once more. If someone asked him about his favorite sound in the world, he’d say it was her laughter, without a doubt. “But it can get better if you keep bringing me more of your Torucakes .”

“What?”

“Yeah. I name them Torucakes because they have my face on them, so they must carry my name as well.”

Proud of herself, Utahime smirked.

“Only if you accept my apologies.”

“Hmm,” he hummed. Satoru was taking his time to taste every bite of his cupcakes and then the cookies. Before he could finish them all, he left two in the box and closed it, keeping it in his bag. He stood up before her, not noticing the way she gulped at his height, yet the girl never backed away. Instead, she raised her head to meet his gaze as he looked down at her, his hands in his pockets.

“Let me tell you first,” he continued, the taste of her sweets still in his mouth. “These are the best desserts I’ve had in my life.”

Speechless, Utahime nodded. She was unable to answer or utter a word as long as he remained glued to the floor in front of her.

“Uh…” It was all she could say. “Thanks.”

“Friends?” He asked, stretching his big hand to hers. She took it, and the size gap was astounding, her small hand totally hidden in his. Utahime felt tiny, and the butterflies in her stomach fluttered wildly.

“Friends.”

It took them a while to let go of each other.

But Shoko and Suguru appeared again, opening the door to break their eye contact and make them let go of their hands as if caught red-handed.

“Suguru! Shoko! You were outside the whole time!?” Satoru complained, hiding his tiny blush behind a frown. His friends weren’t ashamed at all, not even a bit, laughing their asses out as they made their entrance into the classroom.

“And listening. I’m sorry, senpai. We had to do that. You asked for our help.” Suguru bowed in front of Utahime, still chuckling. Their senpai crossed her arms against her chest, raising an eyebrow.

“This was too much.”

“But it worked!” Shoko cried, throwing her arm around Utahime’s shoulders, a big grin plastered on her glossy lips. “Now you’re gonna hang out with us every time, and he won’t bother you anymore because we’re all friends now, aren’t we?”

“Of course!” Satoru screamed as he stretched his arms up with a yawn, grinning at their senpai before speaking again. The temperature was already high, so he took his jacket off, keeping his white shirt. “Utahime couldn’t live without me; she had to apologize.”

“Gojo!” She snapped, her face red in anger again. Suguru sighed, almost abashed at his friend’s ability to screw it all up. “Why do you have to be like that?"

“Ah, the little gremlin attacks again! He-he. Catch this!” Satoru blurted, throwing his jacket on her head before taking off in a mad dash. 

“Don’t call me that, you moron! I’m your senpai!" The butterflies were gone now. Utahime wanted to choke him again, struggling to take his jacket off her head to run after him and slap him with his own clothes. Shoko giggled as she and Suguru watched their friends running through the corridor, only to find a fun fact: even when Satoru and Utahime were always bantering, they didn’t seem able to be apart from each other.

“Ah, here we go again.” Suguru said, throwing his arm around his girlfriend to walk out of the classroom. They kissed on their way to the morning meeting, the hallway already empty. As for their friends, well, it was certain they would find them bickering later on, before their first period.

This one was going to be a good summer.

As nature rebounded under chirping cicadas, a bright sun, and seasonal rains, the Tokyo weather got hotter, bringing back vacation days. The Academy held a summer camp trip to Europe for any middle and high school student who wanted to go, but since Utahime didn’t have the means and her friends couldn’t justify to their parents taking a big amount of money from their credit cards without having to offer explanations about such expenses aside from their owns—and she wouldn’t have accepted it either—they decided to stay in Tokyo for her and make the best summer out of this one.

She apologized more times than she could count, but they assured her that they didn’t need this trip. And it was the truth. Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru could go to Europe any time their parents wanted—not like they hadn’t gone before—so skipping this summer camp trip wasn’t exactly a big deal.

Satoru was the most enthusiastic of them about the idea of staying. He came up with lots of plans to spend their summer in Tokyo that year, with a trip to Disneyland being the one his friends enthusiastically agreed with. It didn’t take him long to buy four Premier Access passes for them, eager to go that Saturday afternoon to Utahime’s workplace and wait for her outside until her shift ended, along with Shoko and Suguru.

“Utahime-chan,” her boss had asked her before she took her bag and left the store. “Is that handsome guy your boyfriend?”

Blushing savagely, Utahime frowned, shaking her head.

“No! He’s… He’s a classmate… My kohai.”

“Kohai? Oh, I’ve seen him around looking for you twice now, so I thought he was your boyfriend.” The woman in the apron laughed with a warm smile. “Have a good day, Utahime-chan.”

“Th-Thank you, Watanabe-san.” The girl went out, the doorbells ringing behind her as she left. A white-haired boy with a big grin on his lips and hands in his pockets welcomed her, the blue of his eyes gleaming expectantly behind his dark glasses. Shoko was the first to greet her with a hug, followed by Suguru, who waved at her, and then Satoru, who stepped in front of her like a knight in shining armor.

“Utahime, get ready.” He said, flashing at her with a wide smirk. She frowned, confused.

“What? And don’t talk to me like that!”

“Easy, easy. You look like an angry kitten.”

“Gojo! I—”

“Guess what!” He yelled before she could talk any further, taking the passes out of the pocket of his jacket to wave them at her face. “We came to take you to Disneyland!”

“Wha— I…”

Sensing her upcoming refusal, Shoko chirped in. “Senpai, please say yes! We got it all covered!”

“But I— I don’t…”

“It doesn’t matter to us, Senpai.” Suguru said calmly, knowing what she was about to say and guessing that Utahime might take him as the most sensible among the three of them. Well, to an extent, he was. Most of the time, when the three of them weren’t sharing the same dumb brain cell, “We really want you to go with us.”

“Please, Uta, it’s gonna be fun! I— I mean, we want to have fun with you too!” Satoru whined, unaware of the look his friends gave each other when he caught himself. His pout and big blue eyes tugged at her heart, making her sigh, defeated.

How could she say no to her friends when they had even bought a pass only for her to go?

Rolling her eyes, she nodded, her dark bangs falling over her cheeks again. Satoru smiled absentmindedly, thinking of how pretty she looked under the afternoon sunlight, her honey eyes shining brighter in sync.

“I gotta go home first to change clothes."

“No need to do that, Senpai! We’ll buy some t-shirts there!” Shoko said, excitement filling her eyes as she took Utahime’s hand to run with her before she could back out. As the girls took the lead, the boys walked behind, with Suguru taking his chance to smile knowingly at his best friend.

“What?” Satoru asked, raising an eyebrow. Suguru snorted.

“Nothing.”

“What! Tell me! What’s so funny?”

The black-haired boy shook his head.

“Nothing. I just know you well enough to see that you’ve got a soft spot for our senpai.”

“What!?” Satoru almost choked on his own saliva, feeling the wild blush creeping up his cheek but hiding it with a fake and sudden cough. “That’s… Are you on drugs or something, man?”

“I’m not on drugs. You’re too emotionally constipated to notice it.”

“Constipated my balls.” Satoru grunted, kicking his friend’s butt and taking off before Suguru could catch him.

“Satoru!” Suguru wouldn’t have any rest until he could kick his friend too, wrestling until they made it to the subway station to take the train to Urayasu.

The girls got on first, followed by the boys, chit chatting all the way to the park while Shoko told Utahime everything about it—the countless attractions and neverending fun that Disneyland would bring them. People stared at them every once in a while, the unspoken rule of a hushed train ride flying over their heads. Using the subway was only for fun; they didn’t have a need to use it on a daily basis. Utahime was the only one who was conscious of it, but she was too happy to care much.

Sometimes, Satoru would warble, making bad jokes until Utahime had no choice but to giggle. When Suguru and Shoko had a corner to themselves, whispering, faces close as if only they existed, Satoru and Utahime looked away awkwardly. A sudden shyness overtook them as they looked at each other. 

Utahime wondered more than once what it would feel like to run her fingers through his hair, pulling the soft looking strands away from his forehead.

Satoru wondered what it’d be like to hold her hand and not let her go. His heart clenched at thinking back to Suguru’s words, how he felt about Utahime, and why it made him feel this way to look at her.

They didn’t move to do anything at all, overwhelmed with these newfound feelings.

It would have been too much.

By the time they made it to Disneyland in Urayasu, Shoko stopped at a store in the World Bazaar to buy mouse ears and made them all wear them. As she promised, she bought Minnie Mouse t-shirts for her and Utahime and Mickey Mouse t-shirts for the boys, all of them ridiculously matching.

Polaroid photos came and went since they stepped in the park, keeping memories of their time together, weird and funny faces and peace signs being recorded as they walked, buying here and there. Suguru, Shoko, and Satoru had been there before, but the white-haired boy was the most excited one, knowing this was Utahime’s first time in there, eager to get on every ride with her, buying for her whatever he guessed she could like.

As always, Utahime was reluctant to accept their gifts. But they all convinced her to take it all, or they would feel disappointed. She almost wanted to cry, but she never did, or Gojo would have laughed at her, or so she thought.

Of all the attractions they could find, they rode every single ride they could. The Jungle Cruise, the Splash Mountain, the Railroad, the Big Thunder Mountain—the first where Utahime almost passed out because it was too fast, too heart-stopping to stop screaming, making Gojo cackle until he was all teary-eyed and bought every photo of them together after their rides.

All Shoko and Suguru could hear from them was ‘I’ll protect you, Utahime!’ and ‘Shut up, you idiot! I wanna get off hereeeeeeeeeeeeeee!! ’ as their senpai squeezed their friend’s hand tighter, too scared to let go. Satoru couldn’t feel happier, barely willing to let go of her after it all ended, pouting when Shoko got to ride with Utahime for the next couple of attractions. He wanted so badly to go with her to the Haunted Mansion... Suguru smacked him and told him to be more considerate, to let the girls be happy together too; to stop hogging Utahime, making his friend frown until he finally went onto the next one with her. The white-haired boy grinned so big, yelling out: ‘I’m your hero! ’ as she clutched on his shirt for dear life, screaming as they went downhill.

Satoru didn’t notice it right away, but he loved the way her hand felt on his, as if made specifically for him, to fit exactly into his shape.

The Beauty and the Beast attraction made them realize they were too close, as the gigantic tea cup they were riding on spun when the Belle animatronic told a tale and their friends smooched behind, ignoring the lights and robotic characters playing a scene. Satoru wished to have the courage to throw his arm around her shoulders like Suguru was doing to Shoko. Utahime wished she was brave enough to stay close instead of pulling away.

But they were just dumb, shy, and constipated kids in the end. Too chickened out to accept their already growing feelings for each other.

When Shoko asked if they were dating because she saw them still holding hands—even after all the rides were over, they couldn’t get rid of the blush that filled their faces, swiftly letting go of each other’s hand. Of course, Gojo had to fuck it up by mocking her and telling her she was the Scream Queen, a weakling for screaming the entire time up there. Glaring at him and frowning as if she wanted to punch his guts—she surely did—Utahime told him, again, to respect his elders. But it was easier like that. Their banter somehow helped them manage feelings they didn’t know how to handle or where they came from; too afraid, too young, and too inexperienced to find out.

Still, the friendship that blossomed so beautifully between them was already carving a space in their hearts, engraving glimpses of brightness in the shadows of their youth, slowly flourishing into the purest and warmest sentiments, coloring the dark spaces in their wounded souls; creating unfading memories that, someday, would lighten the gloom clouds of a not so distant adulthood.

Memories that, someday, would make them cry too.

But now, as they ate burgers and drank cola, oblivious to the future and content with their present, they were happy. Happier than they had ever been.

It was around 11 p.m. when the group parted ways; their stomachs were already full, their eyes bright, and their smiles shining wide. Suguru left with Shoko, agreeing with her that they’d say their goodbyes at the end of the street before she could see her house, and he’d wait for her until she was already inside to finally go home. As for Satoru, he insisted on walking Utahime home after getting off the train, and he didn’t care for her objections. He promised to go with her until she was safe and sound, and that was exactly what he did, very much against her will. But it was still Saturday, and people could be seen wandering through the streets as they walked.

Satoru stopped when he saw her kneeling next to a public garbage bin, calling for something he couldn’t catch at first sight. The weak whine of a small dog drew his attention. He watched the puppy come out from under the bin, seeking Utahime’s hand as she reached out to pet him.

“Is that yours?” The boy asked, his eyes opening wide in interest. He kneeled next to Utahime as she took the bread she had bought minutes ago out of her bag to feed the puppy. Satoru understood why she had stopped at the store before.

“No,” she answered, her dark bangs covering her face as she fed the dog, careful not to let him choke. “He’s been here for a week or something. I think someone abandoned him here, and I’ve been feeding him since. Sometimes other neighbors come and feed him too.”

“Oh,” He didn’t know exactly what to say, as this was the first time he witnessed altruism at its purest. The sight filled his guts with an unknown warmth. “I think he likes you.”

The girl said nothing, filling a small old cup on the ground with fresh water from her bottle and petting the puppy again as he eagerly drank from it. “Poor baby. You were hiding yourself all day in there, weren’t you? You were starving. I promise I’ll bring some more tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you take him home?”

“I can’t. My mom wouldn’t… She thinks dogs are not clean.”

Truth was that Setsuko hated animals. She would kick the poor thing to death if her daughter dared to bring it home.

“Has anybody called the regional health institute to capture him?”

“No.” Her response was strong, harsh. “I don’t want that. I’ll keep him hidden as much as I can.”

“I see…” Satoru couldn’t explain the swirl of sadness that gushed through his guts. Kaede didn’t allow pets at home either, even when in the past he had begged for a dog to keep him company when she was away.

But she always said no. Until, someday, he just stopped asking for it.

However, this adorable puppy had given him an idea that would stick in his mind for the rest of the night.

When the puppy was done with food, water, and pampers, Utahime straightened up, ready to go home. Both of them still wore the mouse ears and the t-shirts Shoko had bought when she stopped less than a block away from the building, quick to take the hat off her head, handing it to him along with the bag of souvenirs.

“Wha—” Gojo said, startled. Utahime shook her head.

“I can’t keep them.” She thought of Setsuko and her reaction as soon as she spotted her bringing home something pretty, something better than anything they could have. She would lash out; that was undeniable.

“You don’t want them?” He asked, unexpectedly sad. Utahime shook her head.

“It’s just…”

Sensing where all of this came from, Satoru sighed. “It’s your—”

"Please keep them for me. I promise I’ll find a way to bring it all home.”

The soft summer breeze rustled their hair, his blue eyes shining like azure moons, unobstructed by his customary dark lenses. She had never seen him before under the moonlight, but now he truly looked like a prince.

Keeping the bag with her gifts inside, Gojo swallowed. She looked really pretty, doing justice to her name, as the starry night whispered hues of gleam to her silky, dark strands of hair, moonbeams bathing the honey in her eyes like some sort of warm rainbow as she timidly bit her lower lip. God, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her so badly, but he knew he shouldn’t, not if he didn’t want to freak her out. Instead, he pulled out of his pocket a little Mickey keychain and saved it in her right hand.

“Here. I got this for you; I saw you looking at it back in the store. Please don’t say no; this one is hideable, so you can keep it. I know you like small, cute things,so...”

She held it, admiring its size. It was tiny and cute, as he had said. He was right: she had stared at it back in the store for more than she could remember, but there was no way she could afford to buy a 2.000 yen keychain when there were more important things to buy. Her mom would never see it if she hid it well enough. Satoru smiled, watching her brighten.

He had a feeling why she wouldn’t take something obvious, something that had to do with the events of early summer and her old uniforms, but even when he wanted to question her, he held back, not wanting to ruin the day.

“Thank you.” She whispered, a drop of sweat sliding down her temple. Looking him in the eye, she smiled sincerely. “I had a lot of fun today. It was the best day of my life, I swear. Thank you for everything.”

Gulping as he felt warm blood rising to his cheeks, he waved a hand at her, turning his head left as he pouted.

“It was nothing. I had fun too!”

"I—I gotta go now.” Utahime said, worried when the lights in her apartment started turning off. Setsuko was home.

He noticed the shift in her expression, but he said nothing about it.

“Goodnight, U-ta-hi-me!” The boy singsonged. She walked away, the tiny keychain safe inside her fist.

“Goodnight, Sa-to-ru!” She sang, returning the teasing melody in every syllable. Her voice sounded so silly and unexpected that it made him laugh.

“You—!?”

Utahime giggled as she ran inside quickly, blushing at her own daring. The building door was closed behind her, and he lost sight of her, ready to go home too. Nonetheless, he wasn’t expecting to catch the shape of a dark-haired woman peeping at him through the second floor window, closing the curtain as soon as his eyes met hers.

He knew who she was. Because she looked a lot like Utahime.

Satoru decided he wouldn’t go home. Not yet. Instead, he got in the building and made his way to the second floor, quickly finding his senpai’s apartment because there was only one house per floor and her umbrella was hanging outside.

What he started hearing from outside would make him clench his fists in anger.

“Where have you been?” Setsuko groaned, throwing something in the sink. “I come home and I can’t find any decent food because you were out having fun, weren’t you?”

Instead of talking back, Utahime took her shoes off and washed her hands after keeping the keychain in her pocket. Gone now were the butterflies she had previously felt, replaced by the nauseating and swirling anxiety in her guts.

“I’ll make something quick to eat.”

“You think I don’t know you were out with a boy, Utahime? You think I’m stupid? I saw him! I saw YOU talking to him before coming home.”

Swallowing hard, Utahime tried to stay calm, keeping herself busy with the water she put to boil but never looking at her mother.

“He’s a classmate, mom.”

Setsuko snorted bitterly. Her daughter could hear her kicking a chair.

“Classmate. That’s how young bitches call their clients now, huh? Classmates.” The woman laughed, clicking her tongue. “I understand now. That’s how you keep getting new things, isn’t it? Who knew my prim, proper model child could be a whore as well? You almost fooled me with the prude act, Utahime, so I really congratulate you. I was fucking sure your school couldn’t give you all those uniforms back without any explanation, but look what we got: a little filthy liar and her handsome fool. Honestly, I thought you would get an older man, not a kid as your credit card, but it’s okay. The more they live, the more they give—”

“Stop!” The girl snapped. She was having enough of her mother, her insults, and her false accusations. “I’m not like you! Do not say those things about me again because I would never be like you!" 

When the woman was about to answer, or maybe slap her, someone knocked at their door. Grunting, Setsuko was the first to go and open, cursing aloud to whoever was on the other side.

“What’s wrong with people knocking at the door at this hour?” The sight briefly shut her mouth up. The imposing presence of a white-haired, blue-eyed kid that was taller than her made her shiver for a second, trying to assimilate the fact that this was the same boy she had seen outside from the window. His hands were curled in fists, and she had no choice but to move back when he stepped into the small apartment, leaning a little to avoid his forehead from kissing the low threshold.

Satoru didn’t bother taking his shoes off; his cold, menacing glare aiming at the small woman in front of him. He never wanted so badly to put someone in their place, except for Kimura Nanako. But this was an utterly different situation.

“Where is Utahime?”

Swallowing her fear down, Setsuko snorted, going back to her careless, rude self. Utahime came from the kitchen, shocked to see him here.

“So that’s how it is.” The woman scoffed. “Now you have this rude boy coming in with no shame. Are you that easy, Utahime?”

Utahime flinched, ashamed, wishing the ground would swallow her whole. Her eyes welled with tears.

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that again!” Satoru spat, furious blue eyes glaring at the woman. “I’ll make you regret it. Do you understand?”

Setsuko laughed, unable to believe what she was hearing. This boy was threatening her! In her own home. That only made Satoru burn in rage as Utahime kept trying to push him back.

“Gojo, please…” Shame flooded Utahime’s face, her hands shaking as she pushed him. But he was taller and stronger, so he didn’t move an inch of his body.

“How can your own mother treat you like this? Does she have no shame?” He asked, tempted to slap the woman’s laugh out of her face. He knew now that Utahime’s stuff hadn’t been simply pawned. The more he saw her mother’s face, the more he was sure that it had been a twisted, evil act against her own daughter. Utahime closed her eyes, gripping his shirt tightly.

“She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She’s drunk. It’s okay; I can handle her. Please go.”

“I can’t leave you with her!”

“Please, Gojo. Please go. I can’t bear to have her insult you anymore. Please don’t come back here; I beg you.” Utahime’s beautiful, teary brown eyes stared at him, imploring. He took a breath.

"Okay." Outraged, Satoru stopped fighting and stepped out. “Okay, I’m leaving.” He was breathing heavily, his chest rising up and down, shaking with anger, wanting to break things. This was the first time in his life he witnessed something like this; whereas Kaede had never been a loving mother, he was sure she would have never treated him the way this woman was acting towards her own child, and this fact made him feel sick in his stomach.

He might be bitter and angry beyond comprehension, but he didn’t want to make more of a scene for Utahime’s sake, not when she looked so vulnerable, visibly affected by her mother’s words—he painfully recalled every one of them—and his sudden, unwelcome presence in the place she called home.

As Utahime walked him out, she closed the door behind her.

Maybe Utahime would never know it, but his heart ached for her. The poor, lacking state of her apartment, the worn down sparse furniture, and the way her front door could be broken at any time. His insides clenched, knowing that house did nothing to warm anyone during Japan’s brutal winters, devoid of warmth, more miserable than the loneliness of his own home. With a sinking feeling in his chest, he thought about how much Utahime must struggle to simply exist here, with no caring family to provide a warm meal, no one to look out for her, having to gather everything herself.

All the comforts he always took for granted weighed heavily on him. And he didn’t have the heart or eyes to judge her place.

"Please don’t look at me like that; just go.”

Her cracking voice took him out of his thoughts, and he rushed to wipe away the tears under her eyes.

He was not sure how he had been staring at her since the moment she shut the door.

“Utahime…”

“Don’t come here again, Gojo. Leave now.”

“Let me—”

“Leave!”

He understood. It was too much for her to deal with. He knew she never wanted him to see this; he understood why she had struggled so much with the idea of him walking her home.

She knew this could happen.

Deciding to respect her wishes, Satoru held her hands and breathed in, kissing her forehead.

“I promise, Utahime, it won’t always be this way.”

Against his own heart, he let go of her hands, leaving this horrid place with a silent promise engraved in his mind. Still keeping the bag with her gifts, holding it close to his chest.

He would make sure to get it better for her, determined to make it happen. A hushed promise, a silent vow.

He wouldn’t sleep that night.

Chapter Text

Breakfast time in the Gojo household wasn’t any different from the rest of the day’s hours.

The summer sunlight creeped into the dining room, the space inside large enough to welcome any source of natural light coming through the wide windows. As he ate his tamagoyaki, Satoru recalled the events of the previous night, comparing the dullness of Utahime’s apartment with the brightness of his own home and how both homes felt just as cold.

His mother, finally home after a long trip to Hong Kong, ate in silence too, yet she was very aware of her son’s thoughtful expression as he chewed absentmindedly. His mind was wrapped around something she couldn’t quite grasp. In a brief moment of maternal instinct—something that definitely didn’t happen often—Kaede wiped her mouth off in small touches with her napkin, as graciously as ever.

“Satoru.” She said, drawing his beautiful eyes to hers.

“Yes, mother?”

“Any place you would like to go this summer? I can have it arranged; you can even take some friends.”

“Not really, but thanks.”

“I thought you were going to Switzerland this summer with the school trip.”

“I didn’t want to. We already went there.”

“Well,” Mrs. Gojo said, taking a sip of tea before speaking. “There are lots of countries and places out there you surely might want to visit.”

“Not this summer, mother.”

“Why not, may I ask?”

The boy stopped eating, his stony face in place. This was the Satoru that few people knew. The Satoru who never smiled when he was alone; the Satoru who remembered every etiquette rule, despite his hatred for them all. The boy that barely spoke when he was at home because his mother would frown at everything he said.

The one whose spirit wasn’t free unless he was with his friends.

The one his mother liked, but everyone outside would have feared.

The not-Satoru.

“I just don’t feel like it.”

With more suspicion than mere curiosity, Kaede raised an eyebrow, still eating.

“Is it because of a girl?”

He wasn’t sure how his mother could have a hunch on this, but he wasn’t going to admit it, not by any means.

“No.”

“As long as it’s Shuhei’s or Aoki’s daughter, it’s okay with me.”

“It has nothing to do with a girl, mother. Shoko is like my sister, and I don’t like Mei.”

Ever so elegantly, Mrs. Gojo snorted.

“I thought Mei-chan was your girlfriend.”

“She wasn’t.”

"Well, well,” Kaede sighed, taking another sip of tea. “Why are you so thoughtful today, then?”

Instead of asking why she knew that, Satoru decided that it was better to gather as much information as he could on this matter.

“Mother, an eighteen year old person is still a minor?”

His mother was the thoughtful one now, intrigued as to why her son was interested in knowing about that subject.

“According to our country's laws, yes, they are.”

“So, if this eighteen year-old comes from a low-income family, are they suitable for Child Allowance?”

“Well, Satoru, that’s a question that concerns a lawyer, actually, but I’m sure they’re not. As far as I know, low-income households get financial aid, but not in the child’s name. Honestly, I have little knowledge of how lower class people’s matters work in our country. Want me to call Suzuki-sensei?”

“Not necessary, mother.” Satoru took another bite before continuing. “What happens if this eighteen year-old suffers from domestic violence?”

Kaede winced, as if hearing something so foreign to her surroundings wasn’t something she could even think of. She gasped, her hand on her chest in utter outrage.

“That’s terrible, Satoru. Why are you asking me this? I don’t want you getting near people in that situation, so I warn you—”

“It’s a Home Economics assignment, mother. A project we need to work on before the summer vacation ends. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“And that’s why you look so concerned? I insist we should call Suzuki-sensei. He’s our family lawyer, and he is more than capable of helping you with such a horrid assignment. Actually, I’ll call Principal Yaga. I don’t need you getting involved with such disagreeable concepts.”

“You don’t need to—” He was in trouble now. He had lied, but he didn’t see that coming. His jaw tensed as he saw his mother taking the house phone and dialing Yaga’s number. But, much to his luck, nobody answered the call. Kaede seemed offended.

“I’ll wait until he comes back. He’s abroad.” Satoru sighed, relieved, as his mother explained. Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed.

“Don’t call Suzuki-sensei. He will make me read a bunch of books I don’t want to, mother. So if you know the answer, please tell me.”

“Why don’t you look for that information on the Internet, then?”

“It takes a whole day to download something.”

Finishing her breakfast, Kaede sighed. Sometimes she was so elegant that her son rolled his eyes, sick of that. She looked like a perfect, unbreakable doll. There wasn’t a day that he had seen his mother look anything less than polished. It was like she wasn’t human.

“I’m not sure about the right answer to your question, but I guess that this fictional eighteen-year-old might be sent by Child Welfare to a foster home in case there aren’t any close relatives nearby. And to me, that’s terrifying, so you better look for the rest of the information somewhere else, Satoru. It’s inconceivable to me that some people here can still live like that.”

Kaede was scandalized, and her son could see the disgust and revulsion in her face, looking away disappointed. 

He wondered if, someday, he could ever introduce Utahime to his mother and what her reaction would be.

He decided not to delve much into it and forget it, or the reality could be harsher than he expected.

As he finished his meal, Mrs. Gojo stood up from her chair.

“Mom?” It had been a while since he had called her that. Instead of rejecting him, the woman politely beckoned her son to continue. “I have a baseball match this weekend. Will you go see me?”

Her smile was genuine, yet small and brief.

“Let’s see, my child. Let’s see.”

No hair ruffling, no caress, no goodbye kiss—nothing. Gojo Kaede left again: even when she said she would be back for dinner, Satoru didn’t care anymore.

He knew she wouldn’t go see him play.

It was always like that.

Utahime was sure that Gojo wouldn’t want to see her anymore after what he had witnessed in her home days ago. However, she was about to discover she had been sorely mistaken when she rushed to the door to welcome the next customer while she was working.

“ Irasshaimase —” Her voice stopped, baffled at the presence of the white-haired boy that entered the store. She couldn’t ignore how her blood boiled when the boy stepped into the cafe, drawing all the women’s attention as soon as they saw him. He grinned, aware of the attention he was receiving, but his eyes were focused on the pretty waitress who was frowning at him.

Of course, lately there was only one person who would frown and scold him like it was nothing—none other than Iori Utahime. His smirk didn’t waver when he saw her expression, knowing she would eventually get flustered and grace him with a cute pink blush. 

“What are you doing here?” The girl asked in a whisper, her eyes watching him take a seat next to the window. From the corner of her eye, she could see the girls in there start  gossiping and murmuring about his looks and beautiful eyes.

“I came to drink a cappuccino and talk to my favorite senpai.” He took his glasses off, winking at her. Utahime only grunted as the rest of the women’s whispers grew louder; giggles spilled out of them. She didn’t know if she was more annoyed at the fact that he had burst into her work hours or just because there were other girls and even grown women fawning over him.

She convinced herself that it was the first.

“You should leave. This is not a place for you.”

“Why not? Give me a reason.”

“Because…” Utahime stuttered. “Because…”

“Yes?”

“Because…” She sighed. “Crap. What would you like to order, sir?” She asked, getting into her waitress character to take the order in her little notebook. Gojo smiled.

“I told you. I want a cappuccino.”

The girl rolled her eyes.

“Anything else?”

“Two chocolate-stuffed croissants.” His fingers made a number two as she took his order. Utahime wrinkled her nose, and he snorted: unlike him, she wasn’t fond of sweet things.

“I’ll be right back, sir.”

“Hey.”

“Yes?”

“When does your shift end?”

“Wha—”

“When?” He insisted, grabbing her by the wrist. She heard a few gasps behind them, like furious little whispers. Utahime flushed, embarrassed.

“Twenty minutes.”

“Good.”

He let her go before she could shake him off. It was 1:40 p.m. when Utahime turned to go prepare his order. She was sure he wasn’t there for a cappuccino, but she would have to swallow her questions until her shift ended. Her two coworkers didn’t waste a minute to teasingly ask her,“Uta-chan, is that your boyfriend?”

"No," she said, blushing.

“If he isn't, could you introduce us? He looks like a Hollywood star!”

“No. He’s taken.”

She didn’t want to think about why she said that.

It was enough to get them to back off; Utahime ignored the look they shared between them.

“One cappuccino and two chocolate-stuffed croissants. Please enjoy.” She told him as if he were any other customer. She could feel his hand around her wrist again before she could leave. “What!?” She snapped in a whisper, her pigtails bouncing over her shoulders as she spoke.

“Can’t you get off a little bit earlier?”

“Gojo, there’s fifteen minutes left. Can’t you wait? I’m working!”

He pouted, taking a bite of his croissant as she walked away. When it was time for her to assist another customer, Utahime thought that having Gojo know where she worked wasn't the best idea. She got the feeling that he wasn’t going to leave her alone from now on. It was a wonder that he waited the remaining minutes until her shift ended, shaking his leg impatiently. After paying for his meal, Satoru stepped out with her. As the early afternoon sun reflected its rays in her eyes and made them look ethereal, he wondered how he endured all these days without seeing her.

Three long days, to be precise. Not that he was counting, wasn’t he?

“Gojo!” She finally yelled once they were far from the cafe’s entrance. “You can’t come to my workplace anytime you want. You’re going to get me fired!”

“I promise I don’t wanna do that. I just came to take you somewhere.”

“Wait, what? Where do—”

“To my baseball match at school! I’m sure you’ll say no if I ask, so I’ll take you there myself.”

“Gojo, I can’t—”

He took her by the arm to walk fast, her feet barely holding out. He was serious about dragging her there.

“See? Come on, Uta. I want you to see me playing for the first time.”

“But, Gojo, I—”

“By the way,” he said, getting his way. “Where’s the puppy?” A mischievous smile adorned his lips when he asked.

Utahime frowned but replied, “Still hidden.” Of course, he got her distracted. Of course. He knew how to play dirty, the little shit. He was so cunningly smart that she hated him for it.

She was smart, too, and she knew it. But she couldn’t count herself within the cunning specter.

“Good. I got an idea, but I’ll tell you later.”

Utahime wasn’t able to just avoid him. He was a force stronger than herself, as wild as the untameable ocean in his eyes. There was no way to escape him as soon as someone became the target of his attention.

As Gojo quickly hailed them a cab, Utahime wondered why he hadn’t said a thing about what he saw in her home. She felt relieved that he wasn’t bringing it up, not knowing what to say. Instead, she sighed and leaned back. The girl relaxed and got excited about watching him play. Not that she’d let him know that, of course. He didn’t say a thing either, letting her assimilate the quiet moment between them. 

Gojo reached for her hand to grab her attention as the driver stopped. They clambered out, suddenly in a rush, as Satoru chuckled, “Coach will kill me for cutting it close.” Satoru led her to the grandstands, where Shoko and Suguru were already waiting. He only had about five minutes to spare as he ran to the changing room. The coach was already pissed that he was late, but he was the star player and captain of the team after all, so delays did nothing to lessen his performance.

As soon as Gojo Satoru entered the game field, the crowd burst into roaring cheers and applause, making him wink at the crowd and pump up the crowd. They got louder, all of them infected by his electric energy. Utahime cringed slightly, much to Suguru and Shoko’s amusement. The match started, with the sports commentator describing the whole scene as if in an international tournament. It was just a high school match, but the rivalry between Sugawara Academy and the Hokkaido school was taken seriously.

Everything was crazy, loud, and exciting. Utahime had a blast watching Gojo play: he was fierce, fast: a complete star, making the whole competition exhilarating. It fascinated her beyond words. She had loved baseball since forever, remembering exactly how her dad had been the catalyst, watching games with her since she was a baby, but hadn’t ever attended the matches the school held, always feeling out of place. As she sat beside her friends, she couldn’t help but scream and yell right along with everyone else. At one point, she was so loud Satoru turned his head towards her and winked, a huge grin in place. She just knew it was aimed at her.

Utahime couldn’t help the blush that creeped up her cheeks when her eyes caught his. She felt a warm, fluttery feeling inside her belly at the sight of his radiant face.

"Look!" Shoko elbowed her, a teasing hue mingling in her voice. “He’s showing off for you.”

Utahime smacked her shoulder, tearing a laugh out of her friend. “Shoko! Don’t say that!” Geto snorted and turned away when Utahime raised her hand threateningly. She huffed, turning back the game.

As the rest of the innings continued, the black-haired girl had a smile that could hardly be contained throughout the day. The Suga Lions came out victorious, greatly due to Satoru’s skills, with all his teammates crowding around him afterwards in cheers. The gush of joy that the girl felt as she saw him screaming and smiling was indescribable. He was really special; there was a hidden warmth inside him, even when it didn’t seem like it. Gojo was truly a bright person. Utahime shook her head suddenly, spooked by the thoughts she was having, firmly swearing to her soul that Gojo Satoru was only her kohai. Her friend.

The loud, thunderous pounding of her heart when he came closer didn’t help at all. She hoped no one else could hear it—every beat resonating loudly in her ears. As the players and guests started leaving the field, clearing it out, Satoru jogged up to the waiting trio with his cap on and bat in his hands. White uniform, muddy, white hair covered in sand, his face flushed and sweaty—but his grin couldn’t be wider. His eyes were bright, full of glee.

“I was a monster, wasn’t I?” He asked, swinging the bat until a light touch reached Suguru’s calf. The black-haired boy grunted, hugging his best friend anyway.

“Of course you were, you shithead. Congratulations.” Suguru’s words were filled with pride, laughing when Shoko fell over them too in a huge, tight embrace.

“Gojo! You gotta take us to America when you get to be a player in the Major Leagues.” She said, hanging on their shoulders to swing between her friends like a little girl, always too short for the boys, forever taking advantage of their height to have fun. Utahime giggled at the trio’s shenanigans. For the first time in ages, she felt like she belonged.

By the time Shoko landed after a third swing, Satoru’s eyes were already on their senpai.

“Won’t you say something, Uta-chan?” He asked, as if forgetting the rest of the world for a second. His friends chuckled behind his back, while Utahime’s smile disappeared under a frown because he wasn’t treating her respectfully.

“Keigo , Gojo!”

“Hey, I just won! Say something nice!”

Snorting, Utahime rolled her eyes.

“Fine. You did great, wonder boy.”

His grin grew smugger as he came closer. “Did you like my game? Are you proud of your kohai? I won for you, Uta-chaaaaan!” He sang, lunging at her before she could even blink, his arms securely around her waist.

“Gojo! Put me down!” She yelled when he spun her around, laughter and joy filling their voices. Suguru and Shoko threw knowing looks at each other, twisting their mouths and shaking their heads at the evident truth.

Everyone else around Satoru and Utahime could have noticed that weird, cheesy shojo vibe when they were together, but them.

“Okay, we’ll go get some snacks. See ya, guys!” Shoko said, pulling Suguru by the collar of his shirt and dragging him with her to leave her friends alone.

“Put me down, Gojo! Don’t be a brat!” Utahime insisted, her face flustered, more embarrassed than angry because of what he was doing. He obeyed, but only after spinning one more time, looking at her slightly disheveled hair when he put her down.

Luckily, she didn’t take long to comb her loosened strands of hair.

“Aren’t you happy for me?”

“I’d be if only you’d behave.”

He snorted, shifting his weight to the other foot. There was this kind of silence that came with the first sprouts of a quiet love—the tiny sparks of fire that warmed the heart, quietly comforting their spirits, anchoring their souls to the solace they started finding in each other. Satoru smiled, brushing the back of his head, a pale shadow of pink coloring his cheeks when staring at her as she finished tying her hair.

“Did you… Did you have fun?”

When Utahime looked at him, she couldn’t frown anymore. No matter how dirty he was, Gojo Satoru looked like an angel—a very annoying one, by the way, but still an angel.

She bit her lip unwittingly. But it didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I did.”

“Oh!” He baffled her with a scream.

“Gojo! You—”

“Wait here! I’ve got something for you!”

Before Utahime could blink again, he was already running to an unknown destination, leaving her alone for at least two minutes until she saw him coming closer, two big bags on each arm. There was something in his hands, something she recognized as soon as she got a clearer view: the puppy she had been taking care of at her neighborhood’s park.

“Wha—. Gojo, why did you bring him here!?”

“Hey, take it easy, Uta-chan. He’s safer with me.” The boy cradled the puppy and kissed the top of his little head—the pup instantly responding with affectionate licks. “You see? He loves me!”

Satoru dropped his two bags on the floor and handed her the puppy, both of them taking a seat. This boy was truly a surprise box. “I asked the school janitor to look over him while I went for you and during the game, but this little thing is coming home with me now.”

The puppy squirmed in her hands, recognizing her scent. Utahime let him rest on her thighs as he yawned and made a space to sleep. His white, wavy hair made him look like a furry ball as he curled up to rest.

“You traveled twice, then?”

“I did,” Satoru said, proud of himself. “I wanted it to be a surprise for you, since you can’t keep animals at home.”

"But... will your mom allow you to do this?”

The boy waved a hand at her nonchalantly. “I’ll manage. What do you want to name him? I wanna name him Mochi.”

“Why Mochi?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Because he reminds me of your mochi cheeks.”

For the first time in a while, Utahime giggled.

God. He loved that sound.

“I don’t have mochi cheeks.”

"Yes, you do. They look like peach mochi, especially when you pout like a baby.”

“Gojo!” She yelled. But the girl had to lower her voice when the puppy got startled. “Treat me with respect.”

“You’re eighteen, but you look younger than me. How could I do that?”

“I’m gonna get mad at you.”

“No big deal. You look cute anyway.”

She couldn’t help a chuckle, her heart rushing in a sugary, sweet blush—a kind of flowering in her cheeks that brought champagne roses to his imagination. His eyes shone with a grin like blue gems as he stared at her, the summer breeze cooling their faces from the seasonal heat.

“Then so be Mochi. We’ll name him Mochi.”

“So you agree that you have mochi cheeks.” Satoru teased, smirking. Utahime bit her lip.

“No. What I mean is that Mochi is a proper name for a puppy like him.”

“Good. Good.” The boy smiled when she patted Mochi’s head as he slept. Satoru had fed him a while ago, so he guessed the pup would be okay for at least two hours more before feeling hungry again. The boy felt good, at ease even, yet there was still this uncomfortable swirling in his stomach any time he thought of what he saw in Utahime’s apartment, and, when it wasn’t his intention to scare her away, he did want to ask her a few things about it that could make him figure out how to help her.

“Utahime,” he started, his voice adorned with a more serious tint in it.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sure you don’t want to talk about this, but... Has your mom ever... hit you?” She sighed as he spoke, closing her eyes. She wouldn’t run away; he knew it, but it was obvious she wasn’t ready to talk about this either.

Still, he had to keep trying.

Utahime shook her head.

“No.” Her mind recalled the times Setsuko had landed a hand on her face. Even when it had been few, it had surely hurt like hell. She wasn’t ready to tell Gojo that, though.

“Are you sure?”

“Y—Yes. I mean, she’s like that only when she’s drunk, so...”

“I don’t think being drunk is an excuse to treat your child like that. I mean, would you ever do that even if you were drunk?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever have kids.”

Utahime was sure of this. She wouldn’t perpetrate this cycle of violence and poverty.

“Oh.” Satoru didn’t know why the confession left him somewhat struck, affected even, but he shook the feeling off as soon as it came. “Still, I can’t see any of us treating a child like that.”

“Maybe.”

“Why don’t you live with any other relatives? I mean, what about your grandparents? Any uncles or aunts? I bet they’re better than... your mom.”

Utahime snorted bitterly, her eyes still on the puppy.

“My dad’s parents hate us. They can’t even see me because I look like my mother.”

Her words made Satoru’s heart clench, his face wincing when she wasn’t looking. But the grief in her hushed voice was clear enough for him.

“How?” He asked, almost outraged. “You’re their blood and flesh. How come—”

“They think my dad died because of us. And I can’t blame them. It was my fault, actually. If only he hadn’t gone to buy that stupid gift I asked for, that car wouldn’t have hit him, and he’d still be alive.”

“Hey!” Satoru rushed to cup her face in his hands to make her look at him deeply. “Don’t you ever say that again, Utahime! It was an accident. Accidents happen all the time. Would you like me to say that my dad died too because of me?”

With his hands still on her face, the girl gasped. “What?”

“That’s another story. Tell me, would you like me to say that?”

“No.”

“Then why do you say that about yourself?”

“Because… I don’t know… I guess it was because of me.”

Letting go of her, Satoru shook his head. “I might have an idea of why you believe such nonsense, but it wasn’t your fault, Utahime. Don’t ever say that again, or I’ll never let you see Mochi.”

A sad smile crossed her lips, filling his heart with tenderness.

“Okay. I’ll never say that again.”

“Fine. Apart from them, do you have any aunt or uncle who may foster you?” Utahime said no with her head. “Why not?”

“My mom had no siblings. And my dad’s sister lives in Sapporo.” She answered, shrugging.

“And what if you come and live with me!?” He asked excitedly. Utahime stuttered at the sudden and inappropriate question, lots of thoughts intrusively hitting her head, igniting the already fading blush in her cheeks.

“What!? Are you crazy? Be-Besides, I bet your mom would never allow it! S-Stop talking nonsense, Gojo!”

Well, she was right. Satoru’s smile dwindled, assimilating his friend’s words. But his mind never stopped running wild.

“I could keep you hidden!”

“No. That won’t happen. Don’t worry about me, Gojo. I promise I’ll be fine. Just take care of Mochi, okay?”

Silence settled over them while Satoru drank some water from his bottle, pouring some of the liquid into his hand to wipe the dirt from his face. As soon as his eyes returned to Utahime, she averted her fixed gaze from his, distracting herself with the puppy on her lap.

He never noticed she had been watching his every movement, almost hypnotized.

“Gojo.” She whispered. He leaned back on the stairs behind them, fully focused on her voice.

“Yeah?”

“How… How did your dad die?”

Utahime couldn’t decipher if he had smiled or not, but the way his mouth curled seemed like a painful grimace that crushed her heart. Satoru took his glasses off, rubbing his eyes before speaking. He breathed in, his eyes shining brightly as he looked ahead. Their gleam spoke of white, heartwarming memories, and he felt at ease with her.

“I had called him when he was abroad for an important business trip. There was still another day left before he could come back home, but I wanted him to be here on time for my birthday—that would be next week—so I asked him to come soon. And he did, yeah. He took an early private flight to come home just because he had a stupid ten year-old son who couldn’t wait another twenty four hours…”

The hint of a tear appeared in his voice, cutting through the calmness that surrounded them. Utahime swallowed as she realized one small fact: maybe, just maybe, they were not so different. She wanted to make him stop, to ease his pain in some way, just because she had felt it too…

“Gojo—”

“Even when the weather conditions weren’t the best,” he continued, prompting her to listen. “He made it here. Yeah, he made it, at least to the airport, but never home.” A bitter laugh rang at the end of his speech. “I stayed waiting for hours, waiting and waiting because I was sure he was going to be home soon. He had promised me he’d be. My dad, you know, my dad had never broken a promise: if I’m a man of his word, that’s because of him… But he never came home. That was the only promise he couldn’t fulfill.”

Satoru looked away, a ghosty tear moistening his cheek. He hated looking vulnerable, because that’s what his mother always said. But sometimes he was only a boy; sometimes, all he wanted to do was cry without anyone to judge him.

Somehow, he didn’t mind looking vulnerable in front of Utahime and pouring his heart out to her. He didn’t know why, but she made him feel relieved. Somehow, he discovered that they were both fucked up in their own way, and now all he wanted to do was tell her what he hadn’t told anyone, not even Suguru.

“But… What happened to him?” She asked, more worried than curious. “If he could come back, why didn’t he go home?”

“He was murdered. Right in the airport, a disturbed man stabbed him after sneaking past the security guards. The company had to let go of lots of employees after the economic crisis ten years ago; of course, the Gojo Group wouldn’t be the exception. My dad was struck by the country’s liquidity trap too, and he did what he thought was best. But this ex-employee blamed him for losing it all and went straight to kill him outside the airport before my dad got in the car, and when my mom and his bodyguards made it with him to Shoko’s dad's hospital, he was already dead. It was world news, you know. The head of the Gojo family had been killed; every media outlet wanted to give the first news.”

He could remember how journalists waited for him outside school every day, trying to snap a photograph of the future heir, making a mockery of his pain. His mother had hired dozens of bodyguards for him, who protected him from the media leeches.

Satoru wasn’t aware of Mochi’s awakening until the pup got off Utahime’s lap to lick his hand, making him smile briefly. The boy sighed, still looking ahead at the empty field, gray memories gathering in the back of his mind, as fresh as his father's face.

The memories of a little boy who just wanted Papa home. His best friend. His hero.

“You know,” he continued, rubbing Mochi’s ears. “I’ve always wondered... Maybe if I hadn’t called, maybe if I had been patient... My dad wouldn’t have rushed back, and he’d still be alive.”

“No.” Utahime suddenly cut him. “Please. You told me not to do that, so you can’t do it either. Don’t say it was your fault. It wasn’t.”

Satoru chuckled sharply. “That’s what my mother used to say when I was a child. That it wasn’t my fault.”

Utahime breathed out, sadness escaping through her nostrils.

She wished her mom had comforted her at least once.

“She’s a good mom, then.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “I wish.”

“Why do you say that? She cares for you.”

“I guess she does, when she’s home. But she’s barely there. Always too busy for me, you know, a cutthroat businesswoman.” He laughed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down with the sound. Utahime couldn’t quite describe the tickling inside when she saw it. “Her ambition is so big that she can’t spare some time for her son; she decided to make the Gojo empire grow instead. Of course. I had it all, if that’s what you ask, but... what does it all mean when you’re always alone?”

The girl’s lips trembled, honeyed eyes filled with tears that Gojo couldn’t see because he was looking at the sky. She could clearly remember Shoko’s words about Mrs. Gojo: ‘ If you ever wanna know the devil himself, go to the Gojo house. You’ll surely find him when she looks right into your eyes. You won’t see anyone like her. ’

The evocation made her shiver.

“That’s why you… I saw you the other day in Ieiri sensei’s car… I’m sorry, I don’t want to be—”

“Ah yeah.” He cut her. “He’s always speaking wonders of her, but you guys don’t know.”

“I-I’m sure she loves you.”

“Hah. Who knows? She has an odd way of showing her love for me. Can you see her around?” He finally looked at the girl as he asked, but it didn’t last long. Utahime shook her head. “Exactly. She can’t even attend my games because, as I told you, she's too busy to care.”

For Utahime, this was like seeing him for the first time. As he shared his struggles, she felt a kinship with his loneliness, the ache in her heart growing, learning from his own mouth that his life wasn't as perfect as she once thought—that they both lacked a warm home, a loving family, and someone who’d wait for them to return from school and welcome them. She felt his emptiness; she saw his steady but heavy breathing as he spoke, his eyelashes fluttering when he closed his eyes, delving into his own thoughts; his muddy baseball uniform, his face, his cheeks, his nose... His lips.

She stared at them for what seemed like an eternity, biting her lower lip. What she experienced while she ogled him was nothing like she had ever felt before.

That’s how Iori Utahime realized there was only one thing she wished for: to kiss Gojo Satoru.

She struggled against herself for long seconds, but it was pointless. The swirling desire was already growing, slowly, yet unshakeable.

Her utter silence made him speak again.

“Huh? Are you whining?”

“Wha—? I’m—. No! I’m just… I was thinking…”

“About?” He opened just one eye. Mochi was resting on his legs now, playing with the edge of his letterman jacket.

“I—” She cleared her throat, getting rid of her intrusive, shameful thoughts, wishing he didn’t notice the redness in her cheeks. “Why are you wearing glasses all the time?”

“Oh.” He smiled. This one being cheeky and genuine, he showed her his glasses. “This. I was born with photophobia, so any source of light that is too strong might give me headaches and teary eyes. A family condition from my mom’s side, actually. An anomaly. So sometimes I feel like a mutant."

“Mutant?”

“Yeah! You know, like the X-men, hehe, because my eyes are blue, and it’s due to that. Have you ever seen such bright, beautiful eyes?” He got closer to her, making her unwittingly skip a beat. “Huh? I bet you don’t. It’s a gift; yeah, I know my eyes are beautiful.” The comment made Utahime frown—butterflies, again, gone. “But they’re a curse too. I need to keep those things on all day, sometimes even at night, just like Cyclops. Do you know who Cyclops is?”

“Yeah, one of the X-men.” She rolled her eyes. This boy was a geek.

“Right. I’m like him without the red beams. If only I had his powers. It’d be cool!” He sighed. “All I have are these stupid glasses; even night vision would be cool! Have you ever wanted a superpower, Utahime?”

Utahime snorted. This kid was a total idiot sometimes.

She shrugged.

“I don’t know... Flying, maybe?”

“Oh. Why flying?”

The girl’s hand reached Mochi’s paws before speaking. And Satoru could feel the weight of sorrow falling over them again like a thunderous rain.

“Flying allows you to escape when you need it.”

Her words cast a shadow over the light mood, reminding Satoru of the feelings of helplessness and rage he had felt upon witnessing her suffering.

He had felt the need to fly away before, too.

“Tell me about your dad.” He asked, dissipating these obscure clouds from her gaze before they could turn darker. He nailed it: she had smiled.

“Well, he was a good dad.”

“I bet you were his princess, weren’t you?”

Utahime chuckled. “How do you know that?”

“Well, your name says it all. And I’ve got the feeling that you were Daddy’s little girl. Am I wrong?”

With a pout, the girl nodded. “Kinda.”

“Like a fairy tale.”

He didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry when her mouth curled in a tense line.

“Yeah. But fairy tales do not always have a happy ending.”

Satoru leaned his head on his hand as he faced her, his eyes on hers, making her blush to the core. His gaze was so intense that Utahime swore he could see right through her soul.

“Hey,” he said again. “But you’re still a princess.”

Another smile blossomed from her lips like a spring flower, even though she wanted to look sulky.

“My name doesn’t make me a princess.”

“You’re wrong. It does. As much as blue paint-filled balloons thrown at me could make me a smurf for a whole day.”

They both laughed, their voices echoing within the grandstands' acoustics.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Are you really sorry? Seems to me that you quite enjoyed it.”

“Well, you deserved it.”

“Oh. So rude. Who’s the senpai now?”

“Still me.”

Their shoulders shook as they giggled. Joining their bliss, Mochi started growling.

“Sorry about that too.” Satoru said, staring softly at her.

“About what?”

“About biting your ear back then.”

“You’re an idiot, Gojo.” Even when she was insulting him and slapping his leg, there was still a beam on her lips.

“I’ll take that as your forgiveness.” He remarked, tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear when he got closer before it could block her eyes from his, annoying him. The pup pulled on the edge of his jacket, but he never noticed, too focused on her shiny caramel eyes to care for anything else. Utahime let him move, not fully registering what was happening, her heart ticking in her chest like a bomb in a birdcage. She looked at his lips and the softness they seemed to own, asking what it would feel like to touch them. They got closer, a magnetic pull bringing them together as the world started fading around, lips itching to touch each other’s, dancing in sync with the summer breeze…

“Hey! We came with the—. Oh shit, guys, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt something?”

Shoko’s voice took them out of their trance, making the pair pull back immediately.

“Shoko! I—”

“Ah, shit.” Satoru grunted, embarrassed, but also pissed. He put his glasses back on, and Utahime focused on Mochi, trying to hide her furious blush. Suguru and Shoko just chuckled: They would tease Satoru about this later. As if it couldn’t get any weirder, Mochi made a strangled sound, making Utahime and Satoru jump from their seats because of the nauseating smell that followed.

“Look,” Suguru said, holding back his laugh. “The pup pooped.”

Satoru and Utahime yelled in disgust as they scrambled away. She held Mochi up by his front, holding his backside away from her. “Mochi! Why did you do this?”

Their friends laughed hard. This day couldn’t have gone more unexpectedly. The dark-haired girl went home feeling lighter; for the first time in her life, she had opened up about wanting to escape her life. And as for Satoru, he slept better than ever because he had finally shared his hidden regret.

It always felt good to be seen.

Chapter Text

The grin on Satoru’s face faded as soon as he stepped into his home.

With Mochi inside his bag, he knew he had to figure out how to sneak him inside without his mother’s knowledge. Luckily, she wasn’t home that night, but she would be soon, and it forced him to hide the pup until he figured out an excuse for the day she finally caught him, totally sure that she would. But for now, he’d do anything he could to keep Mochi safe.

That’s how he had to ask the servants to help him hide the pup in his wing of the house. To an extent, it was a relief that his mother rarely came to his bedroom to see him, preferring to call him over to her office or at the dinner table. It would help him manage to keep Mochi a secret for around two whole weeks, right before the end of the summer vacations, when Kaede happened to hear a bark after coming home from one of her business trips.

The woman thought it had been her imagination, but after a third woof, she just had to go upstairs and find the source of the irksome noise by herself.

“Satoru? What the hell is this?”

His mother’s voice startled him, almost making him jump from his spot on the floor as he played with Mochi. Her piercing eyes glared at the little pup, not believing her eyes.

“Mom, I can explain—”

“Are you going to explain how you sneaked a dog into our house, foolishly thinking I was never going to find out?”

“No! I—”

“For how long has this filthy animal been here? How much did you think you could keep this secret from me?”

“Don’t call him filthy. He’s clean! I bathed him! I took him to the vet and he’s—”

The frown in Kaede’s brows relaxed, her face now acquiring that cold, impassive expression that always made her son shiver because he couldn’t never guess what she was thinking.

“I won’t repeat myself, Satoru. No pets are allowed in this house. Now be a good kid and take him out of the house, because I don’t want to see that…that thing here ever again.”

“No! He’s not a thing!” The boy protested as he snatched the pup up from the floor. “He’s a dog, and I want to keep him. He has nowhere else to go!”

“Then take it to a shelter, but I told you I don’t want it here. You’re too young and irresponsible, and a dog is filthy, noisy and destroys everything. If you don’t get rid of it, I will.”

“I told you I won’t do that. If he leaves, then so will I. Don’t take him away, or I’ll leave, mother; you know I will.”

“Satoru, take him out and don’t make me punish you.”

“You don’t need to punish me further, mother. Being here by myself most of the time is enough.” As he spoke, Satoru reconsidered his words and decided it was better to try and play the pity card on his mother. Maybe, just maybe, a glimpse of compassion could spurt out of her and finally approve Mochi’s stay. “Look, he could keep me company when you’re not here. I’m always alone, and he’s my friend. I’ve been responsible; I’ve taken care of him. The servants are keeping it all clean, and I bathe him. He can be a little noisy, but he’s a good boy, right, Mochi? You’ll behave because you’re a good boy; yes, you are.”

“Mochi?”

Satoru smiled briefly, catching the way his mother’s expression relaxed a bit when she raised an eyebrow. It meant nothing, though; she was still weighing the chances of sending the pup away.

“Yeah. That’s how Uta—that's how I named him.”

“Uta? What do you mean?”

He cleared his throat. He almost let it slip.

“I mean,” he had to stop: Mochi had licked his mouth. Kaede grimaced. “I thought he was a girl, and I had named him Uta, but he’s a boy, so I called him Mochi.”

Thoughtful and dead serious, Kaede crossed her arms over her chest. After all, she still had a heart—a hidden, tiny one—and her son was right when he told her that he was alone most of the time. But it didn’t mean she liked the pup’s presence in her pristine house. Actually, she hated dogs and every animal that could cause harm to her precious and expensive belongings.

“What do you say?” The boy whispered, almost pleading. “Please, let me keep him. He’ll be a good boy.”

His mother sighed, majesty radiating from her stance once again. She finally answered after a long and tense silence. She thought she could concede at least on this with her son, sure that he would finally grow bored of the little white furred beast and get rid of it before she could blink again.

“Fine.” She replied, her tone terse and arms crossed. “But I don’t want him to be near our furniture, Satoru. Keep him out of my way as much as possible when I’m around, and teach him manners. One slip and I’ll send it to a shelter. Is that clear?”

Innocent blue eyes shone with excitement, happy to keep Mochi with him. His mother didn’t smile, but at least she wasn’t angry, and this sole fact was already a win. She was about to leave, stopping under the threshold before closing the door.

“Where did you get him from?” She asked, curious.

“He was alone in a park, and I took him.”

“What’s the breed?”

Satoru raised the dog in the air to take a better look at his features.

“I’m not sure, but it looks like a Hokkaido dog.”

“Oh.” The woman breathed, somehow interested. “He’ll be quick to learn, then. Fine. You know what to do. See you at dinner, Satoru.”

Happier than ever, the boy kissed his dog until Mochi had enough and bit his nose playfully. He had to tell his friends about this, but there was someone who had to know it first, before anyone else. As he rolled on his bed with Mochi barking and jumping on him like a little white ball, he thought of getting ready after dinner to go and visit that someone.

It had been a whole week since he had last seen Utahime, so going to her place to catch her by surprise while slipping into her bedroom would be, in his opinion, one of the best ideas he had had yet.

As soon as his mother went off to bed—or her office in the worst case—he was quick to leave, candies in his pockets, a bag hanging from his shoulder, and Mochi in his jacket. He did his best to avoid the house driver who was outside, sneaking and slithering from being seen by him. Once successful, he took a cab that drove him all the way to Sanya from Denenchofu. It was a lengthy 50-minute ride and during his time in the cab, around 9 p.m., he could glance at the city through the vehicle’s window. The streets came alive with lights that echoed the stars above, the avenues being arteries of the rhythm in the night concert of the metropolis.

He was impatient to get to her, but he couldn’t rush the cab driver, having to wait until he spotted the park where he saw Mochi for the first time, asking the man to leave him right there. The pup was safe and sound—and asleep in his jacket; all he had to do was walk around the street until he finally saw Utahime’s bedroom window to start climbing the walls to get there. Second floor, that was it. He could jump on the first-floor balcony and then step on the stairs with the bindweed to finally hop on her window.

Easy peasy, he thought. And it was, almost. He was an expert climber by nature; it even gave him some space to fling the window open and take Mochi out of his jacket using only one hand while gripping the frame tightly, never expecting the high-pitched scream she let out when she saw the white-furred ball sneaking in her bedroom, fists on her mouth, unable to catch Mochi when he fell on her room’s floor, while Satoru, victim of her sudden shriek, fell on the first-floor balcony too with a loud thud.

He was glad that the bag he carried had somewhat cushioned his fall, making it less boisterous, so the owners of the apartment didn’t come to look for the source of the noise.

Or at least not for now.

“Oh, my goodness!” Utahime gasped, taking the pup in her hands as soon as she reacted, running to the window to make sure she wasn’t dreaming or having a nightmare. “Gojo??” She was totally astounded when she saw the wriggling, white-haired figure on the floor below. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just fine.” He was trying to whisper loudly. Someone had turned on the lights inside the first floor, not giving him time to recover from the fall but rushing him instead to climb to the second floor as fast as he could. His back hurt, but he managed to get to the girl’s bedroom, sneaking in with no effort, except for the throbbing pain of his butt. “Shit. This hurts like hell.”

“What are you doing here?” She queried, unaware of her cheek being licked by the naughty pup. The boy stretched out so as to relieve his pain, his feet finally stepping on her floor, with the girl’s eyes following his motions.

“I wanted to bring some good news, but—ah!” The boy winced, prey to the vanishing pain. He bent to ease it, staring at her as she closed the window again. “I had forgotten you’re a scaredy cat. I should have done it better, less flashy, but I wanted to give you a surprise.”

“You’re—oh!” The girl’s scowl was swiftly replaced by a gasp. She left Mochi on her bed, running to Satoru to check on his cheek; something had cut his skin when he fell, leaving a short, thin thread of blood below his right eye. “You got hurt. Come on, sit. I’ll help you with that.”

Overlooking for a while the shock of his unexpected visit and unacceptable methods of crawling into her room, Utahime searched for some band-aids in her drawers, a cotton pad and a bottle of alcohol, going back to sit next to him to clean his cut. He sat still, hissing as the wet cotton touched his skin. The sting was quickly soothed by her fingers, as warm and soft as her soul, her fingertips kissing his wound tenderly.

He stared at her cherry lips and breathed in her scent. Satoru felt nervous, absolutely agog, his body burning on fire, thinking she could hear his heart racing, wanting desperately to stop an irremediable blush on his cheeks, but it was impossible when her sweet features were so close to his as she attended him. He reddened at his own thoughts, the unfathomable explanation of this discovery turning into a warm feeling in his gut. He had never understood what the hell other people talked about when they spoke of how their crushes made them feel…

But now… He felt like he finally got it. He was just too focused on her lips to linger much on his own reasoning.

She felt shy and nervous too, a cute pink shadow blooming across her cheeks as she cleaned him and put the band-aid on his cut because, up close, Gojo was so fucking perfect, the mesmerizing blue of his eyes drawing her in like some sort of spell. She wanted to kiss him too. They were so close, feeling each other’s breathings with an invisible bubble shielding them, swallowing hard, thirsty lips that itched to be touched…

But her hands dropped from his face, and he thought he had no right to screw it all up, his own insecurities playing against him as his brain reminded him that she was aware of how he used to be, his fuckboy reputation very well known, making him think that she wouldn’t want anything to do with someone like him. This was the first time Gojo Satoru felt the treacherous turmoil of self-consciousness and inner fears streaming in his heart, and it didn’t feel good or comfortable at all.

To an extent, he hated not knowing what was happening with him and his own sentiments.

The bubble broke. He didn’t want to ruin their friendship; he didn’t want to rush a thing because, quite honestly, he would feel like he might die if she ever rejected him. So it was better to leave things as they were. Before he could blink, his cut was already covered in that cute band-aid that smelled like her: a subtle whisper of blooming flowers that carried the essence of a sun-kissed garden. Warm. Enchanting.

“Thanks,” he breathed, her tiny smile acting like a healing balm to his silly, pounding heart.

“I—” She cleared her throat, standing on her feet to put her stuff back in the drawer and dispose of the used cotton pad. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I guess your mom isn’t home, right? You wouldn’t be this calm if she was.”

“She isn’t. It’s been…” Utahime shook her head before saying something she could regret. Sitting on her bed again, her eyes and hands went back to Mochi. “Gojo, you can’t come here like this. It’s late. What if my mom was here?”

“But hey, she isn’t. And we wanted to give you a surprise. Mochi wanted to see his mommy, right, Mochi?” Satoru moved the pup’s head as if he were nodding.

Utahime smiled, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be weird! That’s nonsense. I’m not his mom, and he knows nothing. He’s a baby.”

“Oh, trust me. He knows more than you think. And you’re his mommy, and I’m his daddy because we’re raising him. If he could speak, he’d tell you just the same.”

She smiled, a flush invading her shiny eyes and her movements as she used the pup as a distraction from thinking too much of the boy sitting on her bed.

“I missed him.”

She wasn’t lying, actually. And she was excited to have them here, not just for Mochi but for Satoru. However, there wasn’t any chance for her to let him know that.

“Yeah. He missed you too. Look how happy he is now.”

Mochi played with one of her plushies when Gojo dropped the bag he was carrying in front of her.

“What’s this?” She inquired. Now, the bag had fallen victim to Mochi’s teeth, trying to pull it out of her lap.

“All your Disney things. I promised I would keep them for you, and it’s time for them to go back to their owner. They’ll be safe in this bag. I just hope nothing broke when I fell.”

A smile creeped onto her lips, brightening her whole face. Her fingers slid the zip open until she could see everything her friends had given her the day they went all to Disneyland, fresh memories spreading in her mind like eddying swirls of light. Satoru smiled too, enamored of the way she appreciated even the tiniest details in life as if they were big presents. She was so different from the girls he was used to—so genuine, pure, kind-hearted, always willing to see the best in people’s hearts, no matter how ugly they were inside.

He wanted to take her hands in his and kiss them. Looking around, Satoru realized she didn’t belong to this place, to the rundown apartment and room she lived in, the poverty of her home contrasting with the beauty of her face and soul.

“Thank you.” Her voice took him out of his thoughts after a while, and he blinked. Mochi was still playing with whatever he had in his mouth, and Satoru was having it hard to stop staring at the girl in front of him while Utahime kept her souvenirs in the bag as she talked. “What news did you want to tell me?”

“Oh. Yeah. My mom… Well, she let me keep Mochi as long as he doesn’t bother her.”

“For real?” Excitement filled her eyes when she spoke. He nodded. “He’s got a home now. Gojo, thank you so much for this. When I rescued him... I didn’t know what was going to happen as he grew bigger. But now… I’m glad to know that he’s safe with you.”

“No need to thank me, Uta. We knew he couldn’t end up in a shelter, didn’t we?” Satoru’s smile was cheeky, and his eyes so shiny they made her bite her lip, with the same tiny blush pooling in her face. “I’ll take care of him. I’m his daddy now. And we’re gonna come and visit mommy every week, right, Mochi?”

“What? No,” Utahime gasped, somewhat alarmed by her friend’s intentions. He frowned.

“Why not?”

“Because…” The girl sighed as she sat in front of him on the edge of the bed. “Listen, you can’t do this. You can’t barge in anytime you want because I don’t want to get in trouble. What if my mom was here and—”

“But she isn’t.”

“But what if? She can’t see a boy here. She would… What I mean is, you need to warn me before you plan on coming here so we can go somewhere else, okay?”

Satoru snorted, patting Mochi’s head.

“Hey, it’s not like I’ll tell your mom I’m here. Besides, I can’t be the first boy you’ve brung home. I mean—”

“I’ve brought no one home, Gojo. And you should be more respectful because I’d never do that.”

“I’m not being rude. I’m just saying that maybe you brought a guy before. Like…a boyfriend or something. I can’t be the first guy to have come to your house.”

“Shut up!” There was an honest embarrassment in her wild blush, a breathless yell that almost made him laugh. She looked really cute. “Watch your words, Gojo. I’ve never brought a boy here because I’ve never had a boyfriend, so you better shut up and stop making assumptions.”

His face changed from one of slight amusement to one of evident shock. What had started as a trick question ended up taking him aback.

“You've gotta be kidding me…”

Scowling, Utahime groaned. “I have no reason to be kidding. Why is it so weird to never have had a boyfriend?” She got up from her bed, trying to hide the swirling emotions showing across the pink tint on her cheeks.

“Because…” He cleared his throat, still processing. “Because you’re pretty and every girl your age has had at least one boyfriend...”

“Well, I’m not like the girls you’re used to, and I have no interest in such things.” She crossed her arms as she spoke, her voice filled with a hint of annoyance and shyness. A part of her brain still lingered on the word pretty coming out of his mouth. “You better stay away from my house, Gojo. I won’t open the window for you next time.”

He chuckled, taking his hands behind his head to lay on her bed.  “I can do whatever I want.”

“Oh? Why so?”

Smirking, Satoru answered. “Because I am Gojo Satoru, and nobody has ever said no to me... Well, except you. And maybe Suguru and Shoko. Alright, they had told me no before, but that's another story. You’re different.”

“Why am I different?” Utahime asked, lifting an eyebrow. It was so bold of him to be all sprawled out on her bed as if it were his.

“Because…” He was thoughtful for a little while, his gaze getting lost in the way her eyelids fluttered when she blinked. "I don't know, okay?" He snapped, almost exasperated. With her, he felt like he could never find the right words, even when he was known as a chatterbox.

"You… don't know why I'm different?"

"Yes. I don't know. The other girls I know are just so…” He blew a raspberry like a little kid would do, making her laugh. "But you're different, and I like it. And that's all that matters."

This confession was making Utahime feel things she didn't quite know, his presence having a way of making her heart flutter, and the fact was as amusing as it was scary, so she'd rather change the topic of their conversation instead of taking it further and taking thoughts out of him she wasn't sure she could deal with.

None of them noticed that Mochi had taken Utahime’s pillow as his own to take a nap.

"Summer vacations are almost over. Are you done with your assignments?”

“Ah, my Hime.” Satoru sighed, putting his hands under his head. “Have you always been a worrier? There’s still a whole week to enjoy before school, and that’s all you can think of.”

“I like school. Do you ever study?”

“No need to.” He was sticking his tongue out, making Utahime roll her eyes. “I’m smart, top of my class. All I need to do is take a brief look at my books, and that’s it. All the information gets stuck in my head.”

“So you’re not smart. You’re just a machine.”

“I am smart, with a prodigious memory span indeed. A child prodigy.”

“If you were a child prodigy, you'd already be in college and not a high school freshman.”

“Hey, I don’t wanna live with the pressures of an adult being so young! I may be a gifted child, but I feel great where I am now, with all my friends and all I’m learning. And it doesn’t make me less intelligent. Just cunning enough to live one day at a time.”

Tching, Utahime grunted.

“You’re so full of yourself it makes you look like an idiot.” The girl frowned, holding a Stitch plush toy as her fingers played absentmindedly with the long ears.

“Hey! I can’t be modest. That would be fake as fuck of me.”

“Tch! Gojo, do you know what the word humble means? To be a gifted child, there’s still a lot of things you’re clueless about in life and whatnot.”

“Of course. But what does that have to do with me?”

“Well, you need to learn the meaning of that word by heart and try to put it into practice. You can’t go around just being arrogant all the time.”

“I’m not arrogant. I just have nothing to do beyond the confines of my own enlightenment.”

His cocky demeanor and boastful comment made her kick his calf in retaliation, quickly leading him to rub the aching spot.

"Yes, you are. You just don’t notice it. Everybody sees the mote in somebody else’s eye but not the beam in one’s own.”

“Ah, c’mon. Don’t be a buzzkill, Hime. Are you gonna keep scolding me for real? Hey! Mochi is asleep." His sudden change of topic startled her. Little did she know it was one of his signature getaways when the issue was getting too much to handle. “Should I stay the night here too?”

“Wait what?” Utahime seemed startled, processing the potential consequences of doing what he suggested. “You can’t—”

“You’re here alone, right? Mochi and I could keep you company for tonight.”

“No!” The girl yelled, and her voice started dying in a whisper as she kept talking. “You can’t do that, Gojo. That’s insane.”

“Why? I’d be the first guy to sleep in your bedroom, right? It’s not like we’re gonna fuck or somethi—”

“Shut it!” Utahime impulsively reached out, placing her hand over Satoru’s mouth. His eyes widened in surprise, his words muffled beneath her touch. Both of them held their breath, aware of the shift in the atmosphere as the girl was the victim of a sudden surge of shyness. The implication of his words was too heavy to let go, and her motions did no less. A rosy hue pooled on her cheeks, her fingers still lingering on his lips. The realization of her bold move washed over her, and she withdrew her hand as quickly as she had placed it. Averting her gaze, Utahime’s eyes fixed on Mochi as the pup still slept on her pillow.

Although momentarily stunned, Satoru couldn’t help but notice the change in Utahime’s demeanor. Silence fell over them, filled with a swirling tension. Not that they haven’t touched before, but this unbidden act was utterly different from any other approach they had ever had. The girl’s bashful expression spoke volumes, and a subtle smile tugged at the corners of Satoru’s lips.

Still, the boy’s eyes—typically confident and assertive—now betrayed a subtle vulnerability. Hesitancy was not in his dictionary, yet he found himself grappling with emotions he was not accustomed to, thrust into the unfamiliar territory of timidity under the quickened beating of his heart.

"Uh, sorry about that," Utahime stammered, her voice coming out as a soft murmur. 

Satoru chuckled, a warm and understanding sound. "No need to apologize. It was... unexpected, but not unwelcome. Actually, I’m the one who should apologize."

Distracting her gaze with whatever she could find, the girl kept talking.

“It’s okay. But you can’t stay here, Gojo. I think you should leave; my mom can come anytime now.”

“But,” the boy straightened up in bed, reaching out to her to take her wrist. “I don’t wanna leave you alone.”

“This is not the first time I’ve stayed home alone, so I can reassure you I’ll be okay.”

Letting go of her hand, Satoru took a sticky note and a pencil from her worn-out dresser, writing something down. Before she could see what it was, he glued it to her forehead, melting away any lingering tension as she frowned, back to their regular dynamic.

“Don’t do that!” She didn’t hesitate to remove the piece of paper from her face.

“That’s my house’s phone number. Please don’t hesitate to call if you need me to come, okay?” His warm smile didn’t fade the glare she threw at him, but it only made him chuckle. “Gosh, you’re so cute. Anyway, our son and I gotta get going.” Satoru took the puppy from the pillow and kept it in his jacket the same way he did on his way to Utahime’s home, walking to the window to go out.

“Um…” Her voice stopped him from crossing the window’s frame.

“Yes?”

“I think you should use the door. It’s safer that way.”

“Oh, the princess is worried about me!” Satoru’s mouth shone with a cheeky smile. “Don’t worry, Uta. I won’t let people’s gossip besmirch your reputation.”

He was still smiling when he crossed the frame. But Gojo Satoru could never forget the way Utahime’s neighbors badmouthed her mother and let him know everything she did the first day his feet stepped on Sanya. Every word, every poisonous dart remained glued to his brains, wondering if they talked the same way about Iori Setsuko’s daughter. However, it was something he wasn’t going to tell her.

He wouldn’t let anyone denigrate Utahime anyhow.

“Be careful, please.” The girl told him, earning another big smile from his lips.

“I will.”

He took a moment to climb down, sharing an instant of their voiceless vow beneath the moonlit threshold. The street whispered its secrets, the summer night howling in approval, as Satoru and Utahime shared a last glance, a subtle shift in the air hinting at the untold feelings that lingered between them.

“Thanks for the phone number.” She said, rubbing Mochi’s head before they left.

“Anytime. You’ll call, right?”

She nodded. It was all he needed to be at ease tonight.

“See you later, Your Highness.”

Her insides were aflutter, like a kaleidoscope of butterflies taking flight at the first touch of spring, a nervous energy bubbling up within as she looked at him reaching the ground, with Mochi safe and sound in his chest. He waved goodbye as soon as he was downstairs, and she flaked out on the bed, staring at the ceiling while the ghost of his lips tickled at her fingers as if tracing the contours of a secret—the magnetic connection engraved on her memory like a sensory symphony, each touch playing a note in the melody of their hidden words.

As for Satoru, the warmth of her fingertips would imprint the texture of the moment on his lips and his memory for the rest of his life.

Tonight, he would fall asleep like a baby.

Suguru had to put his hand over Shoko’s mouth to muffle her cries. He kept pushing, aggressively replacing his fingers with a heated kiss that sent her mind spiraling. When she reached her peak in a choked scream, her nails dug on his tanned skin, leaving bloodied half moons across his back that would take long to fade. His breathing got huskier, every exhale sending warm, thin gusts of air through her neck that made her shiver in pleasure. Her short, brown hair cascaded over the white pillow, flowing relentlessly along with his forceful rams, the ones she loved when he was about to climax too.

Shoko loved that he didn’t treat her like a fragile doll but a real woman, one that could feel, laugh, cry and be free. Suguru loved that she could take on that darker nature of his, the one that only she knew, the one that flooded through his lips and made her moan with ecstasy, swallowing his frenzied sighs and ragged whimpers when he reached his glorious end. He pulled out, spilling his seed on her tummy as she helped him with her hand until it leaked the last drops of white love. Suguru laughed and kissed her again—this time more tender—and lay on her after cleaning her with the sheets, and she received him in her embrace.

“You okay?” He asked a while later, their breathing already steady.

“Mh-mm. Why do you ask?” Shoko’s voice sounded lively in his ears.

“I thought I overdid it today.”

Her laugh chirped like the bells in a Christmas song, and he smiled, raising his head to look at her and talk properly.

“I liked it.”

Devoid of the truculence displayed minutes ago while being inside her, Suguru took his time to appreciate his girl’s features with light kisses: First, it was her lips, plump and pink, somewhat swollen by the clashing of teeth and tongues from their agitation. The taste of nicotine he always found in them was one of his favorites. Second, it was her nose—pointy, a little bit bigger than others yet perfect for her harmonic and beautiful countenance. Third, her eyes—soft and brown, adorned with long lashes and a mole underneath her right eye—those that always made him smile; and her thick, long eyelashes that he could barely find frowning.

He loved her so, so much.

When he was done with his kisses, Shoko decided that it was her turn.

Turning him around to make him lie on his back, she chuckled, straddling him and resting her hands on his naked, sweaty chest. She lifted one of her indexes and it traveled to his cheeks, admiring their sharpness and the lines that defined his jaw. His smile, friendly yet mischievous, was one of the things she loved the most about him—the serenity he exuded, his wisdom and calmness like a soothing lullaby, a stark contrast to the underlying intensity that always took her over the edge during their intimacy. His eyes—small, brown and slanted—carried a dormant snake within, a hidden fierceness that only surfaced when provoked.

This secret side of him was the thing she loved the most.

“You look so cute after sex.” She giggled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on his forehead, savoring the salty taste on his skin. His hand reached out to her breasts, caressing them tenderly.

“Cute? How cute?”

“I don’t know. Like a kitty?”

Suguru chortled, trembling along with her from the waves of his own laugh as his other hand traveled to her face, caressing her lips.

“Didn’t  you say that I looked like the bad guy?”

“For others, yeah. For me, you’re a kitty that turns into a lion when we fuck.”

Suguru hissed, biting his lower lip. “Is that a compliment?”

“Haha! Maybe. I’m not sure yet.”

Suguru laughed, straightening up to reach her lips and envelope them in a sweet kiss that made her shudder. Before they could spring into action again, a voice called them from outside of his room, suddenly breaking their kiss.

“Suguru! We’re home. Dinner is served!”

“Oh, fuck!” He rushed to put his clothes on as fast as he could, with Shoko following suit at the sound of his mother’s voice.

“I thought they weren’t home.” Shoko whispered, the rustling of their rushed dressing matching their voices. As soon as Suguru was done, he pecked her cheek, prompting and helping her to finish quickly.

“I thought so. Maybe they just got back. Come on, we gotta go down, baby.”

“I couldn’t even shower!” Her hushed complaint made him chuckle.

“We can do that later. I promise.”

Once done—their clothes hand-ironed and heads hand-combed—they got out of Suguru’s bedroom, hoping that his parents didn’t hear their love sounds and everything that came after that. Fujiko, as the kind and goodhearted woman she was, greeted Shoko with a smile, as warm as the cozy aroma of the meal that waited for her on the kotatsu. She was glad that her boyfriend’s parents were always so affectionate to her, welcoming her with a fondness she could never find at her own home, a striking contrast to her memories of her own father’s stern expressions.

It seemed as if Suguru’s family embodied a different kind of parenthood, one she had never witnessed before meeting them for the first time—one filled with understanding, tenderness, and an open embrace of their son’s life and choices.

She never wondered why Gojo liked spending more time here in the Geto State than in his own home, for she always knew it: Suguru’s home was filled with all what her and her friend’s home lacked.

She loved being here, too. Especially when Daddy didn’t get home and its walls got too big and its rooms too empty for her alone.

“I hope you’ll enjoy the meal I made, Shoko-chan. It’s always a pleasure to have you here.” Fujiko’s eyes narrowed within a smile, sparkling with kindness. The girl, sitting next to Suguru, bit her lip as she bowed in her seat.

“Thank you so much for having me over, Geto-san.” Shoko had her first bite of a delicious tonkatsu, followed by a sip of miso soup. “This is really tasty.”

Indulging in the mouth-watering teishoku , their conversation got livelier as long as the four of them kept sitting around the kotatsu. Haruhiro’s takes were always so easygoing, and he undoubtedly had a sense of humor that Suguru didn’t inherit at all, pulling out a joke of the most unthinkable situations and making everyone laugh. The only person she knew that could match him was Satoru himself, with Suguru ending up embarrassed most of the time. Every meal with the Geto family felt like a refuge from the rigidity of her own household, even the moments where an uncomfortable topic made its way between them, like the one that was about to unfold as soon as Fujiko cleared her throat.

“Kids, this is something I would like not to talk about so openly, but are you two... You know, taking precautions?”

Okay, they didn’t need to do math to know what she meant.

Suguru facepalmed. Shoko bit her lip, looking aside as if it could hide her face from the embarrassment.

“Mom, there’s no need to—"

“Oh, yes, yes. There’s a need to. Son, we respect you and love you, and we know that you are that age . But being your parents means that we have to be responsible and talk about things that can be concerning. Because you don’t want us to be grandparents this early, right?” Haruhiro had his last bite after speaking. Suguru squeezed his eyes shut.

“Dad, no! Not this, please…”

“Dad yes. My boy, we absolutely respect your and Shoko’s relationship. Your mother and I just want to make sure that you both are taking the appropriate precautions to avoid... You know, future inconveniences.”

“Besides, Shoko is still a child. I can’t imagine her pregnant with a baby. Think of what her father would say or do if that happens!”

“Mom! Please, can you two stop this? It’s not nice at all! Look at Shoko." The raven-haired boy pointed at his girlfriend, her face reddened and her eyes stinging with tears of flusteredness. “I bet she won’t want to come here ever again!”

Suguru’s frustration with his parents’ invasive conversation was beyond all he could expect today, seeking a way to diffuse the tension and protect his girlfriend from further embarrassment.

“Dad, mom, can we not talk about this now?” He pleaded, his eyes shifting between his parents and Shoko.

“I’m sorry if we’re being meddlesome; it’s just that when we got home and heard all the bustle upstairs, we started worrying about—”

“Oh, God!” Shoko exhaled, her hands on her face. “Geto-san, I promise you we’re being careful and responsible. There’s nothing to worry about. Please, trust me.”

“Suguru, Shoko,” his father responded, with an austere but well-meaning expression. “We don’t mean to lecture you. It’s natural for parents to worry about their children’s well-being, and all we want is to make sure both of you are making wise choices. It’s not good to be young and inexperienced and ruin your life with something you can’t really deal with yet. Is that clear?”

Suguru sighed, squeezing his girlfriend’s hand under the kotatsu to reassure her, seizing that his parents’ intentions were rooted in concern, and not in some parental whim to meddle in their relationship. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they had crossed a line. Seeing Shoko as flustered as she was, he knew that this had been too much, considering that she never got abashed easily.

Truth was that, beyond feeling ashamed, she wanted to laugh, too.

“Look, we appreciate your concern. But this is something we handle on our own. We might be young, but we’re not kids. I don’t wanna make this more uncomfortable for Shoko.”

His mother and father softened their expression. Mrs. Geto was the first to apologize.

“Ah, my boy, we didn’t mean to offend any of you. We were just worried, and maybe we didn’t know how to express it the right way. Shoko, dear, don’t let this keep you away from this home. We enjoy your company and we know you make our son happy. That’s enough for us to want you here. Can you forgive us?”

Shoko nodded, giggling, as her blush faded slowly and Suguru put an arm around her shoulders in a gesture of silent support.

“It’s alright, Geto-san. No need to worry about it.”

“Let’s just enjoy the day, okay? We don’t want this to ruin our time together.” Suguru mumbled, hoping that they could move soon from the awkward exchange. The atmosphere lightened, leaving the tension behind as some of them finished their meals and Fujiko left the dishes for the youngsters to wash them. But before that, Haruhiro took his son outside, showing him something that made Suguru blink three times in a row.

A black Kawasaki model ZZR 1100 was waiting for him in the walkway of the front garden, its metallic coating shining beautifully under the remnants of the daylight. Mr. Geto put the keys on his son’s hand with a big smile painting his lips.

“What is this, dad?”

Mr. Geto patted his son’s back in a tender gesture. “Your present. You deserve it for being the good son you are.” Open-mouthed, Suguru tried to turn it down, but his father refused instantly. “Don’t. Don’t say it. I saw you learning how to drive your uncle’s the other day while we were visiting your grandma, and you’ll disappoint me if you don’t accept it, my boy. See, I couldn’t give you a good, proper childhood. I always struggled with money and failed as a provider for you and your mother, but now that we live better than we could ever imagine, it isn’t wrong to spoil my child with something from time to time, is it?”

“Umm…”

“Okay, don’t answer that.” Haruhiro let out a throaty laugh. “You don’t need to deny yourself a single thing anymore, my boy. These days are now only a reminder that we should never look down on others and keep being humble, but my family deserves the best. And you never let me give you a thing unless it’s necessary, so let me be a bad dad on this and accept it, okay? Go everywhere. Take your girl on dates and go with Satoru-kun anywhere you want. I just want you to be careful. That’s my only wish.”

“Dad… This is…”

Speechless, Suguru gave his father a warm hug, one that they didn’t share often, expressing a mutual understanding that went beyond words.

“Enjoy your bike. I saw it and thought: my son’s gonna look great on it.” Mr. Geto winked at the boy, opening a world of possibilities before his son, his playful tone revealing that he saw this child as more than just his little boy. Suguru’s eyes gleamed with anticipation, taking a while to enjoy his vehicle, going for a ride in the backyard and around the neighborhood within the lapse of ten minutes, while Shoko went upstairs to take a quick shower.

As his parents let go of their concerns and allowed him to navigate the complexities of his young love while instilling an unquenchable trust in him, Suguru took his girlfriend’s hand as soon as she was ready outside, his heart swelling with gratitude. He revved the engine and she got on, no fear in sight for the road ahead and her designated driver. The youngsters rode off into the evening, saying goodbye to his parents as they watched them go with a mixture of pride and nostalgia. More than a present, the bike was a tool for freedom, a symbol of trust and independence, of the path that he was about to take as he got into adulthood, slowly leaving behind the traces of adolescence.

In the quiet moments of the ride, Suguru glanced at Shoko, relishing in the warmth of her arms wrapped around him. The girl knew that this was going to be one of the moments her heart would cherish dearest, when their teen years became a distant echo in their minds, and their winkles decorated their faces, marking the lines of an experienced lifetime.

The ride came to an end two blocks before getting to the Ieiri household, a sad reminder of their forbidden relationship that made Shoko hold on longer to her boyfriend’s hug when she got off the bike on the sidewalk.

“I wish you could stay with me tonight.” She said between his arms, getting a sniff of his scent.

“Hey, someday we won’t have to hide from your dad anymore. Someday I’ll marry you and all of this would be only a bad memory. We just have to wait.”

Smiling, she stood on her tiptoes to leave a chaste kiss on his lips, not without biting on them tenderly. Her tongue tasted now like peppermint, the flavor of his toothpaste. It brought a grin to his face, thinking of a future where they could share it often.

“You always know how to lighten me up, don’t you?”

“It feels weird when I have to do that. You’re always the one on duty.”

“Am I?”

“I’m the boring one.” They chuckled in unison, and he spoke again. “What will you tell your dad about today? He will ask you where have you been, for sure.”

“No biggie. I told him I’d hang out with Utahime-senpai.”

“You’re my bad girl.” He chuckled, with a kiss on her forehead. “Will she back you up?”

“Of course. Don’t you trust her?”

"Well." Suguru seemed thoughtful for a while, his hand on his chin. “She likes Satoru, and I can’t understand why a smart girl like her would like someone like him. It makes her lowkey unreliable.”

Shoko muffled a cackle with her hand, keeping the quietness of the street. “Don’t be so mean to them.”

“You know I’m just kidding. Hey, sorry about my parents’ thing back there. Sometimes they’re just…”

“Don’t mention it. I know they just meant good for us. No need to apologize. It was kinda fun, though.”

“Kinda fun,” He mimicked her, rolling his eyes. “Embarrassing, you mean.”

The giggling kiss they shared after his words was a happy one, yet it carried the nostalgia that came with the lovers separation.

“Gotta go.” She let go of his hands after kissing him again—a memento of her presence in his mind and heart.

Suguru stayed there until he lost sight of her, two blocks ahead behind the gates of the Ieiri estate.

Someday.

Someday he would look into Dr. Ieiri’s eyes and ask for his daughter’s hand. Someday they wouldn’t have to hide anymore, leaving behind the shadows of secrecy. He headed back home, his new bike humming behind him and a smile on his face, hopeful, with the conviction that this someday he believed in was somewhere on the horizon.

Chapter Text

When Shoko entered her house and left her shoes in the wide genkan, she didn’t expect to see her father waiting for her. His austere expression and his arms crossed on his chest told her that his welcoming was far from being warm.

“Hello, dad,” she muttered, faking ignorance. Before she could go upstairs and lock herself in her bedroom, Shuhei stopped her. Raising a hand and not saying a word were enough to freeze her in place.

“You told me you would be here by six, Shoko. It’s half past seven. Do you mind explaining why you got home more than one hour later and where you have been?”

Clearing her throat, the girl made her best not to show any trace of insecurity through her voice. “Daddy, I told you I was with Utahime-senpai. We went to Summerland and then to the movies. After that we just went to a park and she started playing baseball with a group of guys there while I watched.”

Staring at his daughter with an unreadable expression on his face, Shuhei hummed. “Give me your hand.”

Of course. Shoko knew he was going to do this.

Fortunately, she had learned how to slow down her heart ratio at will before anyone could notice a single hint of nervousness in her body. Especially her father. Developing the art of deceiving his ways of finding out if she was lying or not, had taken years of practice and medical-books readings.

If he wanted her to be as good of a doctor as he was, she was determined to start with him.

When his fingers touched her wrist, palpating the throbbing vein under her skin, her pulse was already back to normal. He raised an eyebrow and sighed, letting go of her hand.

“I hope you’re not lying to me, princess.”

“Never, daddy. Why would you think that of me?”

He gave her a smile devoid of any warmness. A smile so hollow that Shoko gulped hard—a concealed attempt to hide the pounding restlessness inside.

“Of course. You’re a good girl, that’s how I’ve raised you, haven’t I?” The doctor’s hand cupped his daughter’s chin tenderly. But the gesture was a contrast with the sharp gleam of mistrust in his eyes. “All I ask from you is good behavior and good grades, princess. That’s enough for me to be proud; enough for you to be the respectable doctor and woman I want you to be in the future. If you fail in one of these, your father will be utterly disappointed, and you don’t want that, do you?”

“Of course not, daddy.”

“Of course you don’t. As expected from a worthy daughter of mine. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to send you to America with Rena-san, is that clear? Education could be better for you there if something goes wrong here.”

This wasn’t the first time he threatened her with sending her to America with her mother. Shoko almost froze in place, and her throat felt suddenly too dry to swallow, sensing the pressure of his words. The air around felt abruptly dense, and her love for her father started weighing in her chest like a heavy, burdensome anchor that pulled at her heartstrings, making her feel guilty.

Her father was her whole world, her hero, her protector, the one she admired the most. But she couldn’t embrace a future without her friends, without Suguru, far from the place where she could be happy.

“You have nothing to worry about, Dad. Trust me.” The words slipped out of the girl’s throat like a limp, breathless sound that her father didn’t let go unnoticed.

“You should take a bath. You look exhausted.”

“Oh, yes. I was on my way to the bathtub.”

Dr. Ieiri smiled, this time genuinely, unlike the others. “And go to bed straight away. You have to get up early tomorrow for our breakfast with the Yamamoto family.”

Dad never told her he loved her. But she felt it, in the forehead kiss he gave her before bedtime. In his praises for being a good daughter, and his warm smiles whenever she achieved something akin to his wishes and prospects. She felt it, she felt it. She knew her father loved her for who she was, and not for what she could do to achieve the goals he had set for her since she was born.

No. Her father loved her wholeheartedly, like any father would love his daughter.

She felt terrible for lying to him, but she felt scared, too. Even when she never said it. Her heart carried the weight of not being enough, of failing, of being sent off, and she drowned it in cigarettes and insomnia in spite of her short and tender sixteen springs.

Later that night, under the sound of dripping water and a steamy bubble bath, Shoko would fall asleep with a tear rolling down her cheek, wondering if someday she could finally unravel the ties that held her captive. If only someday her father would recognize her true self and grant her the freedom she longed for.

Her future still had a long way ahead to come and rescue her.

With the summer vacations being almost over, the Geto family decided that it was time for a short trip to the beach before Suguru left for school again. As soon as he heard his friend’s parents’ invitation, Satoru said yes, packing the necessary stuff to go to the Getos’ beach house in Okinawa. He would take Mochi with him—he did not trust his beloved dog staying home alone, at the mercy of his mother’s decisions—and, of course, Shoko would go too. Dr. Ieiri was abroad for an international health conference these days, and Kaede would leave the country soon, much to his relief. With no margin of doubt, they would drag Utahime with them, making up a plan to hide her valuable stuff from her mom, so the woman could not pawn it all like the last time, and finally take the girl to their long-awaited trip.

Satoru was bidding his farewells to his mother in the entrance hall when the doorbell rang, cutting their conversation off. One of the maids went to open the front gate, finding a slender, black-haired man behind that sported a black suit, yet was far from looking like a businessman. Next to him was a boy around 14, who tried to hide behind his father’s back at Mrs. Gojo’s piercing and intimidating gaze. The morning sunlight caressed their heads and hit on their glasses, blocking their eyes from others’ vision for a brief moment.

“Oh, Ijichi-san.” Kaede breathed out, staying in her spot. “What brings you here today? I thought I had been clear that we would meet in the office instead of you coming to my house.”

Before Ijichi Haruta could answer, Satoru was quick to grab the newcomer’s son by the edge of his sleeve to make him step inside, with Mochi next to him wagging his tail welcomingly. Nobody noticed how Kaede scrunched her nose at the dog’s presence.

“Kiyotaka-kun! Why haven’t you come to visit me anymore? We used to play a lot and suddenly you stopped coming. Ijichi-san, did you forbid him from coming to play with me? C’mon, old man, we used to have fun. Why did you do that?”

The black-haired kid adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose with tension, overwhelmed by Satoru’s arm around his shoulders and the look of displeasure and disapproval in Mrs. Gojo’s eyes. She hurried to answer her son’s question before Ijichi-san could utter a word.

“I’m sure that Ijichi-san has better things to do than wasting time bringing his son here just to play, when he’s plenty of work.” Her words, even pronounced by a sweet voice, carried a dismissive hue that Satoru despised. “Am I wrong, Ijichi-san?” The woman said, prompting her assistant to answer hurriedly.

“But—.”

“I wonder to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Ijichi-san, and I look forward to an important answer from you, or I can’t see the point in coming here, especially with your son who, according to you, has been absolutely busy with school.”

Mrs. Gojo’s tone dripped with tiny veiled contempt, stopping her son from asking further than he should know.

“I—.” The newcomer cleared his throat, his eyes silently asking his son to step back and return to the doorstep as the man took a plain package out of his briefcase and handed them to his boss. “The documents you were waiting for from Manila have arrived, Gojo-sama. I thought that bringing them here was the best thing to do since you were eager to know the Filipinos’ answer about the new complex as soon as possible.”

“Hmm. I see.” The woman’s voice still carried the deceptive sweetness that masked her growing annoyance and her expression—as always—set in expectant scrutiny. “Good. I’m leaving for Singapore in a few hours. Reading this in the meantime will be good. Fine, Ijichi-san. Anything else?”

“Absolutely not, ma’am. My son and I are leaving. Thank you for your time.”

“Wait, Ijichi-san!” Satoru’s voice stopped the man’s steps as he and his son turned to leave the house. The boy couldn’t see the way Haruta winced, afraid of being admonished days later by his boss; especially when Mrs. Gojo’s reprimands were never just anything.

“Yes, bocchan?”

“Please, don’t call me that. Can Kiyotaka-kun come with us? I’m going to the beach with my friends, and I wonder if he could—.”

Kiyotaka’s eyes gleamed with hopeful anticipation. But his father’s expression told him what he already knew: in Gojo Kaede’s presence, he and Satoru could never be friends. It had been stated clearly months ago, when Kaede, displeased by all the time her son and her assistant’s son were spending together, forbade the latter from visiting them anymore. She did not care that this man was her assistant and his son had almost grown up along with hers; Mrs. Gojo was never one that would allow her progeny to mingle with whom she considered to be low people .

Nevertheless, the heir of the Gojo family could see the sadness in his former friend’s countenance before answering negatively.

“I’m sorry, bocchan. Summer break is almost over, and I have a lot of assignments to catch up on. Maybe next time.”

“Let’s go, son. And goodbye, Gojo-sama. Have a nice trip.” Father and son left, disappearing hastily behind the big front door and the main gates of the Gojo estate. Clenching his fists in their absence, Satoru glared at his mother, his teeth screeching.

“You did this, didn’t you?”

“Did what?” Kaede breathed out, opening the package with a small knife handed by one of her servants. Her eyes did not leave the paper in her hands.

“You know what I’m talking about, mother. Don’t try to fool me. You kicked Kiyotaka-kun out of here, didn’t you? That’s why he never came again!”

Rolling her eyes and sighing ever elegantly, Mrs. Gojo gave the knife back, holding only the documents sent from the Philippines.

“I don’t have to be accountable to you, Satoru. I am your mother, and I’ll do what I consider to be better for the future and welfare of my only son.”

“And leaving me with no friends at all means welfare to you?”

“No friends? You have Shoko-chan and that Geto boy, even when I don’t entirely like him. You have Mei-chan, as well as all the ladies at school who like you, and all the little gentlemen who admire you. Furthermore, you’re surrounded by people who appreciate you and come from the same social class. People like Ijichi Kiyotaka would be only a stain on your life.”

“Sometimes you are so disgusting, Kaede,” Satoru blurted, outrage marking every corner of his facial features. Kaede’s ocean blue eyes carried a sharpness that froze her son’s will for a brief shard of time. But her eyes were swiftly back on her documents again.

“I said what I said. Be grateful that I’m allowing you to keep that abominable hairball with you instead of kicking him out. And don’t provoke me, Satoru, or you know I won’t be as nice as I am now.”

A silent ‘fuck you, mother’ wish was left hanging in the back of his mind, flaring up as he finally heard the Geto car’s honk that let him know they were outside. Satoru did not even bother saying goodbye, grabbing Mochi’s leash tightly as he stormed out of the hall with a backpack on his shoulders, with each step fueling his anger.

Before getting in the Geto family van, he glanced back at the imposing structure that was his home. Since his father had died, it felt no longer like a place where he belonged, but rather, increasingly, like a gilded cage.

“Morning everyone!” he screamed, disguising the weight of his mother’s disdain with a joyful expression, so his friends wouldn’t worry. Suguru, his parents and Shoko were already inside, the latter making room for her friend and his furry pal. The two teenagers welcomed Mochi with pets and affectionate words.

“Good morning, Satoru-chan! Are you ready?” Fujiko asked from the front seat, adorning her words with the warmth of her everlasting smile, something that appeased Satoru’s heart a little. There was a stark contrast between his friend’s mother and his that stabbed his soul with this ruthless truth.

“So ready, mom!” The white-haired boy replied, finally taking his seat next to Suguru, as Mochi found his on Shoko’s lap. “Where’s Utahime? Don’t tell me she—.”

“Chill, dude. We’re on our way to pick her up,” Suguru barged in, drawing a chuckle from his father’s throat as the adult looked at them through the rearview mirror.

“Suguru is right, Satoru-kun. We’re on our way to her house,” Haruhiro reassured him. The van’s engine hummed softly and Satoru settled in, his attempt at cheerfulness still painted on his face until the trip to southern Tokyo started, diverting his face to the window to hide any truth his eyes could reveal.

“Satoru,” Suguru said halfway, with Mochi biting his hands playfully. His friend looked at him only after a second call, apparently too lost in his own mind to hear. “Are you okay?”

Shoko was listening, even when her eyes seemed focused on Mochi’s antics. Luckily for the trio, Suguru’s parents were busy singing to their 60s hits while Mr. Geto drove, so they wouldn’t be able to hear the youngsters’ conversation.

“Ah, yeah. I am. Why?”

“Don’t play the fool, Gojo. We know you fought with your mom.” Shoko chirped in. She never stopped playing with the pup. “But it’s okay. You’re gonna tell us later.”

“Fine. But how do you guys know that?”

“Duh. It’s written all over your face since you left your house.”

Slightly skeptical, Satoru looked at Suguru with a quizzical expression and saw him shrug.

“We already know you, bud.” Suguru’s attention was swiftly stolen by Mochi again.

“Just don’t let that ruin your trip. It’s not worth it.”

Shoko’s soft voice made him smile briefly. If Gojo Satoru ever had a saving grace, it was his friends, the siblings he never had and the comfort that only true friendship could provide. He glanced at them, grateful for having them, for their understanding and support. They knew him better than sometimes he knew himself and, even when it could be a curse and a blessing at the same time, he cherished their presence in his life deeply, relieved now in the sheer joy of being surrounded by people who loved him and cared.

The Geto van kept its unhurried pace as they reached Utahime’s house. As punctual as ever, the girl already waited for them outside the building with a huge bag slung over her shoulders and a timid, but bright smile greeting her friends. This time, she had made sure to hide all her belongings before leaving, so that her mother did not take any of them as it happened during her trip to Kyoto.

She finally introduced herself to Mr. and Mrs. Geto, bowing as a token of respect, as much as the van’s ceiling allowed her to do so. Mochi welcomed her with a bark, wagging his tail enthusiastically as she got in, and he jumped swiftly to her lap. Satoru was the most excited of them all, sliding the door open and close for her and leaving an empty seat by his side, only for her to decline and sit next to Shoko, which broke his heart a little, yet feeling pleased by her presence regardless.

The van erupted into a flurry of conversation about their plans in Okinawa that lasted until they reached the airport and parked the Geto van to take their flight. As the only ordinary person among her group of friends and Suguru’s parents, Utahime thought that Mr. and Mrs. Geto looked quite modest and friendly to be that rich, yet they had to be that rich indeed, to buy first-class tickets for all of them—even for her, according to Gojo—for a flight that was only 2 hours long.

Having a beach house was something entirely out of her world and life goals. The thought of owning properties, or even traveling first-class was a luxury that, most likely, she would never experience on her own. The disparity in their lifestyles was stark and inescapable, leading her to wonder, for the millionth time, how she got here: a poor scholarship girl with friends that could easily buy Tokyo in its entirety. Sometimes, she still felt like an outsider, like a leech even, in this world of opulence and comfort where her friends moved naturally without a second thought.

She would have stayed in a corner of the Geto beach house when they arrived, if it wasn’t for Mochi, who made her run behind him, afraid that the pup’s shenanigans could devastate the whole place.

“Shoko-chan, why is your friend so mousy?” Fujiko asked while they organized the groceries in the double door fridge, along with Suguru. Satoru, as expected, only wanted to know what was on TV at the time, before going to the beach in front of the house. Suguru stepped in, noticing the struggle to answer in her girlfriend’s features.

“I guess she’s feeling out of place, ma. Because she is not from our social class, and maybe she thinks she shouldn’t be here. You know, exactly the way we felt when we first started having the means.”

“Oh.” The woman paused, her hands resting on a carton of milk.

Oh.

It clicked for her.

The discomfort, the uneasiness of not belonging. The feeling of inadequacy, the silent comparisons, and the fear of making a misstep in an unfamiliar world.

As the groceries’ organization finished and Suguru left to talk with his dad and Satoru, Fujiko asked Shoko about Utahime’s family and her background, finding a shocking and unexpected reality that helped her understand more the girl’s behavior and what lay underneath her nervous energy as she kept herself busy with keeping Mochi entertained, all while being in the porch and away from the others, as if afraid of occupying more space than the required. Fujiko resolved, from then on, that she would make Utahime feel as welcome and comfortable as possible.

Later on, as the family and their guests had settled into the beach house, Fujiko found the dark-haired girl drinking an icy Cola, with Mochi resting at her feet. Utahime hadn’t wanted to play video games with the rest of the kids, preferring to stay sitting on a couch to keep a low profile. Somehow, she felt that she was being a nuisance rather than a welcomed guest.

“Utahime-chan,” the woman called, drawing her and Mochi’s attention. “Would you like to help me with something in the kitchen?”

Looking up, slightly startled, Utahime nodded. “Of course, Geto-san.”

The woman was so gentle that she couldn’t help a smile in her direction as she stood up, followed by Mochi. While working together, Fujiko made a point to engage the girl in conversation, asking about her interests and her life back home. But even when Utahime didn’t feel like telling her whole truth, she didn’t lie either about her family life, and her initial hesitation began to melt away with Fujiko’s kindness.

“You are a senior student, aren’t you? That’s what Suguru told me.”

“Ah, yes. This is my last school year.” Utahime’s words almost got stuck in her throat, discovering a nostalgic feeling at the thought of finally finishing school that she hadn’t experienced before. Accustomed to having spent most of her high school years alone while keeping a low profile, she never thought that the end of this stage in her life could feel so painfully hollow because she had friends now. And just thinking of leaving them, of abandoning her teen years to start a new life as a young adult in an unknown and vast world like college, was something she thought she was not ready for.

Not yet.

She wanted to be a child just a little more. No matter how early and fast all life’s blows had forced her to grow up.

“He told me that you have helped Shoko-chan a lot with some subjects, and she has improved at school. He was worried, you know. My boy loves that girl so much. But don’t tell him this, or he will say I embarrass him in front of all his friends.”

Utahime giggled, carefully slicing the carrots on the cutting board.

“Most moms do that.” The girl said innocently. Fujiko, now aware of Utahime’s family situation, decided not to press further on it.

“I guess so. You know, I’m glad Shoko-chan found a friend in you. She needed one. My son and Satoru-chan are good boys, but a girl always needs a girl friend, you know. We can’t be surrounded by boys all the time. It’s not healthy!”

They both laughed, although focused on their culinary task. Comfortable with the girl’s presence, Mrs. Geto kept talking.

“I bet your company must have been good for her. Shoko’s mother is far away from here, and she needed a female friend. The boys can’t understand her, and I am not her mother, so it’s not likely that she can open up to us in case she needs advice. But she will do that with you, don’t you think?”

“Yeah… I think she does.”

“And Satoru-chan too. He seems to be more sensitive now that you’re around, and a little less haughty. That’s a miracle. Oh, Kamisama! The way I pray for that boy. He’s not a bad kid, though. He has a big heart, but was born into a complex family. And the absence of his father has left a mark in him. I’m glad he has you too. Every tough man needs a girl that keeps them in check.”

The woman laughed, and the girl smiled shyly. Whether this was some kind of insinuation about the nature of her relationship with Gojo Satoru, or just a playful, general remark, Utahime wasn’t sure. But she rather dismissed the thought quickly than delving longer into it.

A brief silence followed, matching the moment when Fujiko drizzled the sauce and spices on the meat.

“And what about you? Are you comfortable at school?”

“Yes, ma’am. Very much. I give my best.”

“Good girl. And no boyfriend in sight?” 

The woman’s question pooled Utahime’s cheeks with a crimson tint that would take some minutes to fade. 

“Oh no!” Her eyes diverted unconsciously to the white-haired boy that played enthusiastically in front of the TV; something Fujiko didn’t let go unnoticed. “I… I’m not really interested in that now. Maybe—Maybe later. I—I don’t know.”

“Ah, don’t be so shy. That’s pretty normal! And you are a gorgeous girl. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d already have two or three boys interested in you.”

The blush in Utahime’s cheeks increased drastically, and she hid her face in her current activity, quickly focusing on the mushrooms she trimmed now.

“That’s unlikely, ma’am. I don’t even have many friends. And I spend more time with Shoko than the boys.”

“Oh, I see. But, you know, in case you need some advice some day, don’t hesitate to come to me. I’m not your mother either, but I can be your friend too.”

“Thank you, Geto-san. I really appreciate it.”

And Utahime meant it wholeheartedly.

Fujiko smiled. “Are you feeling better now? More comfortable?”

“Huh?” The girl’s gasp came out unannounced. “I’m sorry. It’s just that… How…?”

Utahime couldn’t say if all mothers possessed that sixth sense she was perceiving in Mrs. Geto, but it dazed her how this woman had noticed her discomfort since the moment they stepped in the beach house. Attentively, she listened to her words, recognizing the voice of wisdom in her—that voice that came after years of dearth and humbleness.

A voice that her own mother could never have.

“You know,” the woman said softly, chopping onions and watching her husband get busy with something. “I used to feel out of place, too. When Suguru’s father and I came into money, oh my, it was a big adjustment. Our son was just a little boy, and we had gone through a lot already. But that was the way I learned that the true measure of belonging is not about wealth or status, but about the people who make you feel at home. Do you understand what I’m talking about?”

Utahime hesitated, humming. “Um, I... think so.”

“You might think I’m a tattler, aren’t I?”

As the polite, respectful girl she was, Utahime never voiced out her thoughts, unless it was utterly necessary.

Ahem , Gojo Satoru.

She shook her head, drawing a tender smile on Fujiko's lips. “No, ma’am.”

“Don’t be too polite, Utahime-chan. You’re among friends. And that’s the reason why I’m telling you this, because my husband and I don’t come from wealth, as you know now, and not always we felt at ease with all we have now.”

Utahime’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? I could have never thought that… You and your family seem so… comfortable…”

“It took time, and good friends we found on the way who made us feel welcome. Just like the ones you have now. Believe it or not, some rich people still have a heart, one uncorrupted by money and careless lives. You may take a first look and think they are run-of-the-mill people, just as selfish as the others, but the deeper you go, the more you’ll discover about them, and sometimes, you can even find a treasure. That’s what I think your friends are: your treasures. Never think you are less than them, Utahime-chan, because they will never see you that way. You are their treasure too. I’m sure of that.”

The sincerity and affection in Mrs. Geto’s words resonated deeply within Utahime’s heart, finally experiencing that sense of acceptance that had been missing since they arrived. She smiled as they kept chopping vegetables, feeling the disparity in their backgrounds a little less heavy now. However, Satoru interrupted their tranquility, coming out of the sudden to the kitchen for a snack.

“Hey, mom, I’m starving. Is there something to eat just yet?”

“There, there, son. Pick some fruit, we’ll have this ready in no time.” Fujiko said, pinching his cheek as he rushed to eat some diced pineapples.

“Can’t you be a little well-mannered for once and address Mrs. Geto with the respect she deserves?” Utahime barged in, almost seeing red.

Satoru chuckled, eating a mouthful. “She’s my mom too. I don’t need politeness, you dummy.”

“Don’t call me dummy. And eat with your mouth closed, Gojo! You’re disgusting!”

“Wanna be my mom now, Utahime-chan?” His grin was wicked, which ignited Utahime’s rage. He laughed harder when she hissed at him and showed him the knife as a threat. Sensing the lack of danger in the girl’s actions, Fujiko just let them be. She had been warned by her son beforehand that these two might cause trouble together.

“ Keigo! I’m your senpai!”

“Make me!” He jumped to her spot and took the knife from her hand, throwing it to the backyard and taking off afterward. She quickly bowed before Mrs. Geto as an apology, and ran after him, crossing the threshold until they reached the beach, with the whole family looking at their antics with raised eyebrows and shaking heads.

“Are they always like that, Shoko-chan?” Fujiko asked, open-mouthed. Her husband harrumphed, but his attention went back swiftly to the engine he was fixing.

“Always,” Shoko and Suguru uttered in unison, while the woman chuckled. “Like dogs and cats,” Shoko was the last to speak. Both her and Suguru had paused the game, already bored of playing.

“Satoru knows how to get her on her nerves, mom. I don’t know how, but she always lets him.”

“One of these days, she’s gonna gouge his eyes out. I swear,” Shoko argued. Suguru nodded, with furrowed eyebrows.

“Ah, to be young. Don’t forget it, children: love and hate are horns of the same goat.” The woman remarked with a knowing smile.

Fujiko kept cooking, dismissing her son and his girlfriend to go play with their friends outside. Both Shoko and Suguru thought that it was time to take out the water guns they had brought, instead of seeing how Utahime tried to chase Gojo to no avail, with Mochi barking behind and running around in an attempt to join the game.

As soon as Satoru saw his friends with the water guns, he took the biggest one and threw another at Utahime. “Ready to get soaked?” he challenged, eyes gleaming with mischief. She caught the water gun clumsily, glaring at him with irritation and wondering why he had to have the asset with the guns, swearing to herself that she would take it off of him.

“You’re going down, Gojo!”

Laughing, Suguru and Shoko joined in with their respective guns in hand to start spreading out across the beach. Mochi barked excitedly, his tail wagging furiously as he chased after the group, adding to the chaos. Utahime wasted no time in aiming at Satoru, who ducked behind a palm tree, barely missing the first shot.

“Nice try, but you’ll have to do better than that, senpai!” he taunted, firing back and hitting the girl squarely on the chest.

“You’re a dead man!”

“No, I just killed you!” The boy yelled, taking advantage of his friends’ laughter to shoot them right in their arms and heads. “And also you two!”

“No fair! Your gun is bigger!” Suguru complained, getting a wiggle of eyebrows from Satoru. But before the white-haired guy could spit his intended pun, Shoko shot him a warning glare; she knew Utahime wouldn’t like to keep playing if he made inappropriate remarks that could make her uncomfortable. Fortunately, before the tension could escalate, Suguru sprayed them all, winning this round.

Whew. Ending the game just like that would have been a total waste of the summer.

“You can’t escape!” Suguru shouted, narrowly dodging Shoko’s shot. Mochi darted around him, barking and trying to catch the streams of water coming from all directions. The air was filled with the sound of splashing water, belly laughs and playful shots as the four friends ran around, dodging and attacking. Even Utahime seemed relaxed around Gojo, who took every opportunity to shoot her.

Had they known she had never been this happy in her life, Satoru, Shoko and Suguru would have never stopped playing with water guns.

When they all ran out of water (except for Satoru), he pushed his glasses back to the bridge of his nose, with a wicked smile tugging at his lips as he cornered them all.

“This is the end... For all of you.” He charged his machine gun dramatically, very much in a Hollywood-esque style. “Hasta la vista, baby.” Satoru unleashed a powerful stream of water that hit them all with full force.

“Okay, okay, you win!” Suguru exclaimed, panting and grinning, all of them with their clothes soaked, clinging to their bodies. Mochi ran up to Utahime, licking her face and wagging his tail as if to console her.

“Alright, truce.” Shoko held up her water gun in surrender. “We’re all equally drenched.”

“Still, it wasn’t fair. Gojo never ran out of water.” Utahime retorted with a slight frown, wiping water from her eyes.

“Okay,” Satoru started, throwing his gun to the sand. “If you’re not satisfied with the fight—which I fairly won—let’s throw a soccer match. Me and Shoko vs. Suguru and Utahime. The team who scores two goals, wins.”

“Hold on, man. Why you and Shoko and not me and Shoko?” Suguru was already taking the soccer ball from the house porch as he grouched.

“Because Shoko is the only one who doesn’t seem bothered by my victory. So let me team up with her. You and Utahime are still nagging.” Satoru’s grin as he wiggled his eyebrows in Utahime’s direction made her humph.

“I’m not bitter.” The girl frowned, which made him grin wider.

“Ah yeah? Wanna back down now, senpai?”

“You wish.”

Taking a step forward, Utahime’s eyes locked onto Gojo’s with an intensity that belied her smaller stature. The height difference was hilarious as she tilted her head back, defiantly staring up at him while he looked down with a mischievous, cat-like grin. The scene was an amusing spectacle for Suguru and Shoko, who stood nearby trying to stifle their giggles. To them, the scene was as fascinating as it was comical: the image of their petite senpai standing her ground against the towering presence of Satoru was something no one else had attempted before. Gojo Satoru had always been known for his bold and sometimes reckless, haughty nature, and seeing Utahime, usually so composed, proper and serious, challenging him was beyond the expected.

The nature of their relationship was complex, even chaotic, yet it carried hints of a requited understanding that neither would readily admit. Satoru, used to be the center of attention, seemed almost desperate to prove himself to Utahime, showcasing a vulnerable side that his friends had rarely witnessed in the many years of their friendship. Meanwhile, Utahime’s stubbornness to maintain her authority and dignity as his senior to face his playful arrogance accentuated her own strength and tenacity.

Well, she deserved to be respected by that spoiled brat, didn’t she?

They were more alike than they thought, especially when they let out that competitive, driven and passionate side of them and hid their deepest emotions behind a veneer of banter and lackadaisical rivalry. Suguru and Shoko, the frolicsome bystanders, knew that there was something deeper between them, an unacknowledged bond, something that they hadn’t fully grasped and would never admit. Looking at each other, the couple giggled, interrupted by Mrs. Geto’s sudden apparition as she wiped her hands in her apron.

Of course, Satoru and Utahime moved away quickly.

“Fine, leave that ball down, children. Dinner is ready, so you all go change your clothes and come to eat right away, clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” They said in unison, making her smile.

The group of friends hurried inside, rushing upstairs to change into dry, fresh clothes. All of them with beach shorts and shirts, except for Utahime who wore a cute pink playsuit that matched perfectly with her pigtails and made Satoru stare at her for a few brief seconds.

The Getos had set a lovely table filled with a variety of dishes that made everyone’s mouths water. Dinner time was an enthusiastic moment, with Mr. Geto’s stories making them laugh and the warmth of the family finally letting Utahime feel more at ease. Mochi, of course, ate too, finding by himself the most comfortable spot in a corner of the big couch to rest after having a feast.

After dinner, they rested a little before heading back outside, ready for their soccer match. The beach was perfect for it, the sand under their feet soft and cold with the night breeze as the boys set up makeshift goals.

“Alright, let’s do this!” Satoru exclaimed. Every pair took their sides, setting the ball in the middle of the improvised soccer field. And Mr. Geto had gotten out for a while to make a fire for them, leaving some marshmallows bags next to a coconut tree.

The match was intense and fun, with Satoru and Shoko— go figure —managing to score the winning goal. They high-fived, grinning, but Shoko was soon stolen by Suguru, who took her away to spin her around and end up kissing, beyond the campfire, where the waves crashed around their feet, their friends soon forgotten near the burning wood.

Satoru sat first, sliding his glasses up to his head and resting his hands on the sand. He beckoned Utahime, who agreed reluctantly, but truth be told, it was better to sit next to Gojo now, instead of being a witness to her friends acting uncomfortably lovey-dovey. Much to her fortune, Mochi came to the rescue, distracting them both from Suguru and Shoko’s honeymoon.

As for the marshmallows, they decided to eat them straight from the bag, instead of roasting them first.

He was the first one to speak. “Ready for school again?” 

She raised her head and swallowed a mouthful of the candies, still petting Mochi. “I’m always ready for school.”

“Jeez, you’re such a nerd. Can’t you be… I don’t know… A little more normal?” There it was, that sly grin of his that sometimes made her want to punch his handsome face. “We’re on vacation. I bet you’re gonna miss all of this when it’s over, Utahime. Besides, this is your last summer before you go to college.”

Well, he got a point on that. That comment made her lower her guard against him… Just a little bit. “I—.”

“Oh God,” he gasped, covering his mouth. Mochi started licking his face.

“What?” A whisper of concern etched on Utahime’s features.

“This is your last summer… I mean, I wish—” Satoru shook his head, rubbing Mochi’s back. The boy looked… disappointed . “Nevermind.”

He never explained himself. Utahime never asked.

The sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the cracking wood and their friends’ laughter filled the moment between them, setting the space for a contemplative silence. The pup finally left their faces alone, finding a seat between them that allowed him to eat marshmallows too. Satoru saw the girl eating more and more candies, and chuckled.

“I thought you didn’t like sweets,” he remarked, pushing his glasses with his finger to the bridge of his nose. Utahime shrugged.

“I like those.”

She got lost in thoughts quickly, staring absentmindedly at her friends playing in the distance. The sight made her blush—unsure of why—but she gobbled up another candy and fell backwards to rest on the sand. The stars above looked beautiful, diverting her thoughts swiftly to the charm of the firmament overhead.

However, it wasn’t the same for Satoru.

It was something he had seen Suguru and Shoko do countless times. The way they touched and kissed, the way they played, and he ran after her and caught her, lighting up her whole being. The way they orbited each other like celestial bodies, leaving him aside.

It was something he had never envied; if anything, he had despised the feeling of being a third wheel when they acted as if they were the only inhabitants in the world. Satoru had always been content in his independence, finding joy in the moments the three of them shared together and the attention that girls gave him—some of them more than just attention and flirty smiles. But now, as he watched them from a distance, something had shifted.

There was a twinge of longing his mind couldn’t quite elaborate.

For the first time, Gojo Satoru found himself wishing he could be in Suguru’s shoes, sharing that moment with someone who made him feel as alive as Shoko did for his friend. He glanced at the girl next to him, and the way she gazed at the sky. This was the first time he felt that strange thing inside, like a bubbling in his stomach; something that made him feel sick in the guts and floating at the same time.

His skin tingled, and his heart pounded in his chest fiercely. Suddenly, his mouth felt dry, and he found himself swallowing hard with a tight throat. It was all an unsteady and foreign feeling that had him thrilled and uneasy. It felt like he was on the brink of saying something important, yet the words refused to take shape, caught in that swirl of emotions he was too emotionally constipated to decipher. His thoughts raced in different directions, yet each one centered on the girl beside him.

“What are you gonna do with Mochi when school starts again?”

Her voice took him out of his mind. But he was glad that she wasn’t looking at him as she spoke.

“Huh?”

“I mean, you told me you can’t leave him alone with your mom…”

“Oh. I—.” He cleared his throat. The anxiety of stepping into uncharted territory was an experience he was not sure of how to fully grasp, used to having everything under his control. “I had thought of taking him to a dog daycare every day until…” There he was, coughing again. “You know, I’ll take him there before school, and I’ll go for him after school. It’ll—It’ll be good for him. To make friends and learn manners. I want him to be a good boy.”

Even when his usual confidence was severely affected, he managed to fake a cheeky grin in her direction.

“Yeah, unlike you.”

“What? I’m a good dad! My kid will be exactly like me.”

“No, thanks. I don’t want Mochi to be a problem dog.”

Satoru chuckled, breathing less heavily now. Their banter somehow helped him deal with this situation.

“Nah, you just need to learn how to have fun like me.”

“No, thanks. I’m okay just like this.”

“Oh, little Miss Perfect. Always good grades and no bad behavior. C’mon, you had to stop being a cliché.”

She pouted, frowning. “You are the cliché here!”

“No, I’m not. I’m the cool guy.”

“And that’s exactly why you are the cliché, Gojo Satoru.”

He smiled, but this time, there was a tender expression on his face that took Utahime aback, relaxing the frown in her brows.

“I think…”

Without thinking, Satoru breathed in and looked straight into her eyes. It was a sensation of being both anchored and adrift, as if he was tethered to this moment by invisible strings of emotion that were hard to convey. And every glance at Utahime seemed to magnify this strange feeling.

“Gojo… Are you okay?” She asked, concerned. There was a drop of sweat running down his temple that she quickly wiped away with her thumb, sending shivers down his spine. But Utahime retreated as soon as she noticed what she had done.

A tantalizing ghost of closeness lingered between them as Satoru tried to inch nearer. However, the moment was interrupted when Suguru and Shoko approached, seeking marshmallows after growing tired of playing in the water.

“Utahime-senpaaaai!” The brown-haired girl said, reaching the bag of marshmallows to get a handful. “You should come play with me instead of getting bored with this dingus over here.”

Startled, Utahime laughed anxiously. “Yeah…”

“Hey, who are you calling dingus?” Satoru complained. His heart dropped, feeling a gush of relief from the previous tension. Yet he couldn’t turn his gaze away from Utahime as she moved, noticed only by his best friend.

Suguru let out a weary sigh, raising an eyebrow in Satoru’s direction.

“You. You are the dingus. I bet you had her bored all the time,” Shoko declared, pulling Utahime with her to the sea shore. The handful of marshmallows were already eaten. “Mochi-san, come with us!”

The pup barked excitedly, quickly forgetting his two half-eaten, slobbered marshmallows to run after the girls as Shoko dragged Utahime with her to the seashore. As Satoru’s eyes kept fixed on Utahime’s movements, oblivious to the world around him, Suguru knew it was time to intervene and end this nonsense.

“Hey,” he called the first time, to no avail. “Hey, Satoru!”

“Huh?” The boy hummed, taken out of his reverie. His eyes went back to his friend, with the girl’s image living rent-free in his mind.

Suguru scowled, almost exhausted. 

“You really are helpless, aren’t you?”

“What?” Satoru asked and took another handful of marshmallows, all at once.

“For fuck’s sake…” Suguru sighed in exasperation. “Are you really that dense? You couldn’t be more obvious.”

“Obvious about what?”

“About the fact that you’ve got it bad, really bad for Utahime,” his friend replied, crossing his arms. “Everyone can see it, except you.”

Satoru blinked, flabbergasted by the revelation. Actually, he was fighting so hard to prove Suguru wrong that he insisted on denying whatever he had to say about the matter. “C’mon, what are you talking about? She’s not… She’s just Utahime.”

“Yeah, just Utahime . Dude, you’ve been staring at her like she’s the only person on this beach for centuries. And let’s not forget how you try to side with her for everything we do.”

“What the hell? I didn’t side with her for the soccer match!”

“No, but you got closer to her every time you tried to score. Pushing her, and brushing against her arms, blah blah blah. Don’t try to fool me. I know you better than yourself. Just admit it already: you’re crazy about the senpai.”

“Hold on. Feeling like I’m gonna have a heart attack when I see her doesn’t mean I—.”

“Oh. So that’s how it is. Those are feelings, YOU MORON!”

Suguru smacked the back of his head, attempting to make him come to his senses. Satoru complained and rubbed the pained spot, his mouth agape, but nothing came out. His protest got stuck in his throat as he stopped short, turning his gaze back to Utahime. The girl was laughing with Shoko, the wind tousling her pigtails and Mochi running and barking behind them.

For the first time—or maybe this was the first time he was acutely aware of it—he noticed how her honey-colored eyes sparkled under the moonlight, and how her smile seemed to light up everything around her. Her giggles were birds chirping and bells tinkling, all at once. It felt as though having an epiphany, where the world opened up to him with an unbidden clarity, brightening all his existence.

Suguru’s words sank in like a pebble that dropped into a pond and disturbed the calmness of his thoughts. His sixteen-year-old heart raced like a bomb in a birdcage, like a prisoner wreaking havoc inside his chest. And suddenly, he felt a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the summer night.

Jaw slackened, Satoru murmured. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed.” Suguru chuckled at his friend’s expression. “Welcome to the party, dumbass. It was about time you noticed.”

Like a shot, everything about this girl seemed overwhelmingly beautiful. As bright as the moon rays, as lively as children’s laughter.

How had he been so blind before?

In a last attempt of running away from his feelings, Satoru opened his mouth. And just like before, he could not utter a single word.

His train of thought was cut short when he felt Mochi tugging at the edge of his Bermuda shorts, urging him to join the girls in the water. But Satoru couldn’t find in himself the will to move.

“Gojo? You okay?” Shoko’s voice startled him when she tried to take him out of his trance. Frozen in place, his eyes could only stare at Utahime as she got closer to grab some more marshmallows.

“Huh?”

“You’re spacing out, aren’t you.”

“No… I just…” He swallowed and cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I’m going inside. It’s getting cold here.”

“Cold?” Shoko inquired, raising an eyebrow. She looked at her boyfriend, and Suguru could only shrug in response.

Utahime, being the sensitive girl she was, stared at him with worry. “Are you okay?”

Swayed by the rumbling whirls of his newly discovered feelings, Satoru could not answer. Or rather, he didn’t want to. Not to her. There was too much in his head going on now as he processed Suguru’s words, and his heart beat so fast that the only solution he could think of was getting away from her.

He left his friends and Mochi behind, entering the house and sliding the glass door close to go upstairs before running to the girl and doing something he could regret later. The pang of something unfamiliar stung his heart, a feeling that was both exhilarating and terrifying. He knew that Utahime was a pretty girl, inside and outside. He had felt tempted to kiss her before, and he had stared at her for longer than he was willing to admit, no matter what she was doing. But this… This was utterly different.

For the first time, he felt unsure of what to do. He had always been the confident one, the one who never hesitated. The boy out of reach. King of the school, heir to the throne; the guy that every girl (except Shoko) dreamed of. The boy that fell for no one but everyone fell for. But now, as he walked to his room and thought of her, he knew that things would never be the same. Not with Utahime. Now it was obvious that this girl ignited flames in his heart that hadn’t burned before. And this fact baffled him beyond understanding.

Satoru locked himself in his room for the rest of the night, pretending to be asleep when Suguru came in to sleep and took the top bunk of the bed while the girls stayed in the room next door as had been set up earlier by Mr. and Mrs. Geto. As for the next morning, he took his breakfast in utter silence, stirring up thoughts of concern in his friends and Suguru’s parents until Mrs. Geto warned him about his unusual reverie and made him go back to his usual self… To an extent. Because he didn’t act the same towards Utahime, being kind of distant around her, even on their way back home.

She would have loved to say that she didn’t care in the slightest, that she was actually pleased with this sudden and unexpected turn of events. But nothing could be further from the truth.

It even unsettled her.

When she tried to figure out what was going on, when she tried to approach him and ask why he had been acting so strangely, Utahime was met with silence. What had once been an odd but euphonious melody, now turned into a long pause—an abrupt insertion of rest notes in the unconventional counterpoint of their friendship that never rang louder.

And it hurt.

It really hurt.

“Look at that.”

Zen’in Naoya leaned back against the grandstand wall in the playing court as he and his friends stared at the female group of seniors during their open dance rehearsal for the upcoming Sports Day’s performance. With school back in session, he had taken an interest in observing one particular senpai more closely—a girl who had previously gone unnoticed but now seemed to capture his full attention.

Somehow, Utahime’s association with the most popular guy at school had made her more noticeable. This recent attention, unbeknownst to her, stirred a mix of reactions. Some students looked in disbelief, while others cast glances of pure jealousy, wondering how someone like her had managed to get her claws into Gojo Satoru.

Others, like the Zen’in heir—a boy whose family had always been corporate rivals of the Gojo clan—just found this fact incredibly eccentric.

There was something about this Iori Utahime-senpai that captivated him. The way her cute pigtails bounced and the curves of her figure caught his eye, and he bit his lower lip, staring at her with lustful intent. The way she smiled and laughed, her fiery temper, that unknown side of hers that made her so radiant and people had only witnessed now that she was around Gojo.

She had become a tantalizing challenge, and he silently swore to himself that he would make her his at all costs.

“Isn’t that the girl that hangs out with Gojo and co.? The scholarship senpai,” one of Naoya’s friends asked.

“The same one,” he rejoined, smugly sticking out his tongue. “Let’s bet one thousand yen that this girl will be mine by the end of the year.”

“I bet one hundred thousand yen that she won’t ever look at you, Zen’in-san. Some of her classmates say she’s a goodie-two-shoes.”

“Do you think she would hang out with Gojo if that were true? Nah. I bet she’s just faking it. I’ll get her before he does because I’m sure that loser hasn’t laid a finger on her ever, or he’d be already boasting that. So, I’m glad she’s making it tough for him.” While speaking, Naoya took a lollipop out of his pocket and bit it loudly.

“How are you so sure? She’s always with his gang. And speaking of the devil, there they come.”

From a distance, Naoya glared at the trio entering the playing court. Gojo’s friend, the doctor’s daughter, hopped playfully towards Utahime, leaving the two boys behind. But since his attention was solely on the senpai, he couldn’t care less for the newcomers. After all, he hated and envied Gojo Satoru with all his guts since kindergarten.

Luckily for him, they weren’t in the same year group, or he wouldn’t be able to live under the Gojo heir’s shadow, not when this asshole had always surpassed him in everything. His family’s company was bigger. He was richer, kinder, smarter. More handsome. Popular. All girls would die to get him into their pants.

Meanwhile, Naoya was a full-fledged loser.

“That motherfucker. He’s always getting the best chicks,” he spat, bitterly. “But I won’t let him get this one this time.”

“What? Are you still bitter about Mei-san?” His other friend chuckled, followed by the one next to him. The smug grin returned slowly to Naoya’s face, now focused on Utahime’s ass as she prepared to hit the ball.

“She’s a traitor. But I don’t care about her anymore. This one looks way better.”

“Man, she’s a senior, a third year. She’ll leave next year, and I doubt she has any interest in dating a junior.”

“Pfft, spare me, dude. I’d do anything to wipe that shitty smile off Gojo’s face, and this might be my best chance. Besides, that chick is not bad at all. Quite pretty, I’d say.”

The boy to his right chuckled, leaning his arm on Naoya’s shoulder. “Your father won’t like this at all. She has a scholarship. She’s not like us.”

With a sudden cackle, Naoya shook his friend off him. “No shit, Sherlock! You think I want to marry her or something? C’mon! As long as it’s just for the kicks, Dad won’t mind.”

They all laughed maliciously, unaware of the piercing eyes that glared at the head of the group with bloodlust. Their conversation could be heard some meters around.

“Do you think he’ll make a move against you?” The boy to his left asked, nudging him.

“Who the fuck?”

“Gojo.”

“Oh, I bet he will. Just watch,” Naoya stated, crossing his arms with an arrogant expression.

From a short distance away, Satoru had noticed all the time that the Zen’in boy’s eyes had been locked onto Utahime. And a surge of anger that made him grit his teeth welled up in his guts as he observed his rival’s predatory gaze. The sight of Naoya eyeing her so shamelessly sparked a fierce protectiveness that made his blood boil.

He had stayed behind when they entered the playing court, leaving Shoko to run to their senpai. But not having talked to Utahime for three days now didn’t mean that he didn’t care for her. On the contrary, all he wanted to do was sink his teeth into Naoya’s neck and leave him bloodless for daring to look at her like that.

“Hey, Satoru, you good?” Suguru’s voice broke through his thoughts. Some high-school girls had surrounded them in hopes of getting some attention from Satoru—some of them even his autograph—but he remained focused on the Zen’in boy and the need of punching him in; moreover, he had been eluding his fan club girls since school started again, not wanting to be seen near them by Utahime.

“Yeah, just… I’m fine,” Satoru muttered, his glare never leaving Naoya. He quickly dismissed the group of girls and clenched his fists, taking a step forward before Suguru placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Calm down, Satoru. You know he has always tried to catch your attention. Don’t let him get to you.”

But it was too late. Satoru was already marching across the court, stopping just a few feet away from his rival and blocking his line of sight from Utahime.

“Enjoying the view?” Satoru’s voice was ice-cold.

Naoya looked up, an unfaltering grin on his lips. For a second, he felt bitter that Gojo Satoru was also taller than him. “Just appreciating our senpais’ dance. Why? Jealous?”

Irately, Satoru snickered, grabbing the collar of his shirt with a fierce and frightening— and fake —calmness. He ignored Zen’in’s friends, who backed down in fear as soon as he appeared. He’d laugh later about it.

“Stay away from her, Zen’in. I won’t say it twice.”

“What are you talking about?” He chuckled, pushing Satoru away.

“Don’t try to fool me. I know your intentions when you look at a girl like that. And she’s not your plaything.”

 “You think you can tell me what to do?”

The tension between them was so thick that it drew the attention of nearby students. Suguru didn’t intervene, knowing that his friend had to settle this affair here and now. He also didn’t like the idea of Zen’in Naoya wandering around Utahime. She was a good girl, and he was a prick.

“Wanna try me?” The grip of Satoru’s hand tightened, now around the rival’s neck as he was pushed against the wall with a threatening thud. It was strong enough to scare him but loose enough to let him breathe.

Intimidated, Naoya tried to fake nonchalance by leaning in, lowering his voice. “You might want to tell your little senpai to be careful. She caught my eye, and I always get what I want.”

“Oh. Is that so?” Satoru’s blue orbs darkened as he forced a shallow smile, the one that didn’t reach his eyes. It was full of warning and cold fury.

“Yeah, that’s so.” Naoya’s face dripped with mockery.

“Well then.” With a swift motion, Satoru released Naoya’s neck, only to grab the waistband of his soccer shorts, yanking them up in a painful wedgie. The boy’s face contorted in pain and surprise, a yelp escaping his lips.

“Fuck, fuck! Stop it!”

“Is that so again, Zen’in?” Satoru’s voice was low and menacing, his grip on the waistband tight and unrelenting.

“Let go of me, you son of a bitch.” Naoya’s voice quivered as he struggled, all his boastfulness crumbling little by little. His feet were almost hanging now as he became the laughingstock of the surrounding students.

Satoru leaned in closer, his fake smile still plastered on his face. Oh boy, he was enjoying this so much. “You might want to rethink all of this, Zen’in. Because if you mess with her, you mess with me. And trust me, you don’t want that at all. Will you?”

“Fuck—you!”

The white-haired boy pulled up harder, ripping a high-pitched cry out of Naoya’s throat that came straight up from his suffering balls.

“Fine! Fine! Let go!” He wept, on the verge of tears. Half of the bystanders were already laughing.

“Yeah, I guessed so.” Satoru finally let go, dropping Naoya, who crashed to the floor wincing with a bruised ego and a deep frown etched across his face. He soon picked himself up, his gait awkward and stiff from the painful wedgie. All he could hear were giggles behind his humiliated steps as he left the playing court, falling short in his attempt to convey defiance. But this wouldn’t be the last time he and Satoru met.

In all truth, Naoya had always been shit-scared of Gojo Satoru, having a record of defeats since Elementary school that he’d rather not think much of, but avoid him instead.

The thought of getting into prissy Iori Utahime’s pants wouldn’t leave his mind easily, but he wouldn’t want his father to slap him after knowing that he had fought against the Gojo heir again with no win in sight. They’d meet later, though—he planned—when Gojo was alone without his bootlicker Geto and no one around, and he would get his victory: three vs one. He and his friends against him.

As Naoya walked away, Satoru took in his surroundings, realizing that everyone around him was already beholding the scene and the Kagura dance rehearsal had come to a halt. The commotion had drawn everyone’s attention in the end, and unconsciously, his eyes finally met Utahime’s.

Oh, jeez. She looked so cute wearing that miko suit and those bells around her wrists that he felt the urge to jump and kiss her in front of the whole school, but she would have rejected him, and he wasn’t sure he could endure her rejection.

It had been three long days since they returned from Okinawa, and three long days without talking to each other.

Why had he come here anyway? He hadn’t planned to see her at all.

Oh, right. Shoko had dragged them both to the court without explaining why. And when he spotted her there, he wanted to refuse and leave, but then he saw the way Naoya looked at her, and that was something he wouldn’t tolerate in a million years.

Her gaze dropped from his, and Satoru knew she wouldn’t want to talk to him again. His heart felt heavy, so heavy that he decided to turn and walk out of the court too. Each step was like a weight dragging him down, his heart pounding with a dull throb that matched the pain in his stomach.

Seeing the way she avoided looking at him hurt him to no end. But who could blame her when he had been acting like a kid? Like an idiot, she’d say. He couldn’t shake it from his head as he walked, much less Naoya’s lustful gaze. It made his blood boil. But more than that, it made his heart ache. He wanted to protect her, to be the one she could rely on.

But now, with the distance between them growing, he didn’t know if he could.

“What happened?” Shoko’s voice sounded distant behind his back. By the time she came running to Suguru, Satoru had already left the playing court.

“I’ll tell you later,” he explained, going after his friend. Concerned, Shoko waved goodbye at her senpai and followed the boys, as Utahime watched them leave.

Her heart ached just as much as his, but she didn’t know what to do. It seemed clear that he had grown bored with her and didn’t want anything to do with her anymore—or so she tried to convince herself, searching for a logical explanation for his behavior. Tears pricked in her eyes, but she blinked them away, pushing down the pain in her chest as she sought shelter in the resumed dance.

How did they manage to be totally apart for a full month? That was something out of Suguru and Shoko’s understanding, especially when they seemed to act like magnets, ever orbiting around each other. But when sports day came after weeks of preparations, there was no sight of their friends patching things up.

Every class had set something up for the Undōkai , and most parents had attended the event. Even Gojo Kaede and Ieiri Shuhei were there to watch their children's performance, looking down on everyone despite sharing the same social circle with the rest of the parents. Luckily for Suguru, his parents managed to avoid crossing paths with Shoko’s and Satoru’s ways, sidestepping any unnecessary drama.

Iori Setsuko’s absence was noticeable, as expected. But Utahime never held any hopes of seeing her there; she never came and likely never would. To harbor hopes of a different outcome would have been Masochism at its finest.

Satoru’s group held a baseball match against 1-B, scoring a stunning 3-1 victory over them with him as the batter. Suguru joined too, but since he was never an enthusiastic fan of said sport, he decided to enjoy his friend’s outstanding performance from the bench. As for Shoko, she was part of the gymnastic routine held by the girls from 1-A. Utahime, of course, was there, congratulating her at the end of the event and going together to the playing court for the seniors’ staging right after.

She wondered if Gojo would be there to watch her dance, but quickly dismissed the thought as her group was called to form the line on the platform for the Kagura dance. She waved briefly at Shoko who watched along with Suguru, and the music started moments later, drawing the attention of many parents and students to the group and their leader. All eyes focused on the dancers and their graceful movements, the bells around their wrists tingling in harmony with the taiko and flute.

Once again, Utahime’s performance was outstanding. Even when she couldn’t see him, Satoru was there all the time, staring at her among the crowd and away from his friends, with a prideful and tender smile adorning his lips. Again, she was dressed in her beautiful miko attire, red and white giving her a celestial aura that captivated everyone. Some girls looked at her with gnawing jealousy, noticing the adoration in Gojo’s unwavering eyes as he followed her movements throughout the whole stage, completely enraptured by her.

“Ugh. I hate her,” one of the girls said, unaware that Gojo stood nearby, listening to every word.

“She’s so smug because she’s hanging out with Gojo-san and his friends,” said another, making him smile this time.

“I heard she went with them on a trip to Okinawa for vacation.”

“Oh my God, is that true?”

“I heard Ieiri-san say so.”

“Argh! Lucky bitch! He barely nods when I say hello to him!”

“Do you think they’re dating?” another girl asked. His heart skipped a beat.

“No. We’d all know it. Besides, his mother would never let him date a scholarship girl like her. The Gojo family are royalty, and she’s a peasant.”

“Who the hell is her, by the way? I don’t recall seeing her last year until she started hanging out with them.”

“She was a ghost, mostly. I asked Mei-senpai about her, and all she told me was that the girl is a nobody.”

“Wasn’t Mei-senpai Gojo-san’s girlfriend?”

“I guess she was. That’s the kind of girl he likes.”

“Seems like he likes them older.”

“Who knows? But I doubt he likes this one. He’s a playboy. He’s been with half the high-school girls, and he would surely use her as he did with others, but that Utahime looks like the ‘I’ll stay a virgin until marriage’ type. She’s a prude.”

“Maybe he likes them boring too.”

The group of girls giggled, their voices drowned out by the playing music. Somewhat irritated by their vicious comments, Satoru stepped closer, leaning down to their height and slipping between them.

“One thing is certain: I like none of you, you preschool witches. Now shut up so I can enjoy the performance.”

The girls gasped and fell silent, casting nervous glances at each other as Satoru turned his attention back to Utahime, standing like a sentinel behind them. Their shame moved them quietly away from him and left him undistracted to witness the last minutes of the performance until the crowd erupted in applause, the dancers taking their bows.

He would have loved to mingle with the rest of the bystanders, but being the only white-haired and the tallest boy in school, he had it hard to go unnoticed. His heart raced, intently following her with his eyes and struggling with whether he had to reach out to her or just stay in his place and evade her, just like he had been doing for a whole month now.

He finally took a decision, starting to weave through the dispersing crowd. Shoko and Suguru were already congratulating their senpai, and for a brief second, Satoru thanked the heavens that there were no parents in sight. His, Shoko’s, and Suguru’s might be wandering around the school, watching other performances. But, as he was about to join his friends and Utahime, a voice cut through the air, sharp and taunting.

“Hey, Gojo, guess what?”

Satoru halted in his tracks, immediately recognizing the unpleasant sound. He turned to see Zen’in Naoya standing casually behind, hands in his pockets and a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. There was something in the Zen’in heir’s tone and expression that sent a jolt of irritation straight up and down his body.

“What the fuck do you want from me? Fuck off, Zen’in,” Satoru spurted, his voice laced with evident annoyance. He decided to ignore his schoolmate and keep going, but Naoya sauntered closer before he could continue. A considerable number of people separated them from Utahime and co., and this situation was already pissing Satoru off.

“I just thought you’d like to know that I asked our cute Utahime-senpai to help me with an assignment, and she said yes. Sweet of her, don’t you think? I’ll meet her tomorrow in the library at four. Just the two of us. Alone.”

Satoru’s jaw tensed, his teeth grinding. His irritation started to morph into something darker under Naoya’s innuendo, and he was sure he wouldn’t like where this was going.

“Oh. Did she?” The white haired boy asked, carefully controlling his voice.

“Absolutely,” Naoya continued, enjoying the reaction he was causing. He had always wanted to do this, but hadn’t found Gojo Satoru’s Achilles heel… Not until now. And the discovery was extremely pleasant. “You should have seen how eager she was to help. She even smiled at me, nothing like when she’s with you, you know, all glares and darts, hehe.”

How the fuck had he noticed that? It wasn’t like everyone at school was always aware of their movements together, or were they?

Besides, Zen’in wasn’t right. Utahime had actually smiled at him a few times. And it was the cutest smile he had ever seen in a girl.

Fucking Psycho.

“Well, fine. She’s free to do that.”

If Suguru had been closer, he would have urged Satoru to walk away, to ignore Naoya’s taunts, and keep his cool. And Satoru tried, he really did, but Zen’in’s incessant needling was pushing him to the edge. The impulse to plant his fist squarely in the asshole’s smug face was becoming unbearable.

“Of course she is! I think I’ll take my time tomorrow.” Naoya’s voice dripped with arrogance. “You know, make the most of our study session. I can’t wait to taste that cute mouth of hers—.”

“Hear me out, you fucking loser,” Satoru interrupted, seething as he grabbed Naoya by the collar of his soccer t-shirt. “Stay away from her, or I’ll—.”

But Naoya smirked, his eyes gleaming with animosity. “You’ll what? Go on, punch me in front of her. You’ll see what she thinks of you then.”

It was the first time Gojo Satoru hesitated over giving someone a lesson. Zen’in was right; Utahime wouldn’t like to see that display of violence, much less coming from him. Not to mention what would happen if one of the school’s staff members witnessed the altercation that could unfold if Naoya dared to open his damn mouth again.

With a growl of frustration, he shoved Naoya back, his blue eyes glazing with suppressed fury. “You’re not worth the time…” He sighed, turning to walk away. But his rival wasn’t done.

“I bet you won’t say the same when you finally hear how I fucked your dear senpai and spanked her while she cried my name all in fours, Gojo Satoru.” Naoya’s malicious words stopped Satoru in his tracks, moving his feet back to him. “Oh yes, Naoya-kun, you feel so good! Oh yes, give me more—.”

He couldn’t finish.

Satoru’s body moved before his mind could catch up, slamming his fist into Naoya’s face with a sickening crack that drew a gasp from the stunned crowd, parents and students alike. Zen’in stumbled back, clutching his nose as blood trickled down his face.

The Gojo heir wasn’t done either. With Naoya on the ground, Satoru pounced on him, raining down punches, each blow fueled by pure, unbridled rage.

“Satoru!” A voice called him out, but Satoru was too far gone and shook away the hand that tried to grab him, his focus entirely on the boy beneath him.

“Don’t you dare touch her! Stay away from her, you scum!” Satoru roared, blinded with fury, his voice raw and deadly. “If I hear you say anything like that about her again, I swear you’re a dead man, Zen’in!”

The fight continued, with Satoru landing another punch, until Naoya gathered some strength to give it back, causing a fissure in the corner of his lips, which made Gojo strike again, but harder. Naoya tried to respond, but the fear and pain in his eyes stopped him, struggling to breathe with his own blood smeared across his face.

Zen’in’s friends joined him, pushing Satoru to the ground until the other boy took advantage of it and attacked, getting his revenge. Naoya was noticeably weaker than the Gojo heir, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t pack a punch, beating his opponent till Suguru and Shoko teamed up with their friend with fists and kicks, giving Satoru the asset once more.

Just as Satoru’s fist found his rival’s face for a hundredth time, a commanding voice cut through the chaos.

“Enough!”

Like a thunder, Principal Yaga’s voice stormed onto the scene, summoned by one of the first witnesses of the fight, his stern expression brooking no argument. The cold authority in his words froze everyone in their tracks, and the confrontation came to an abrupt halt.

“Gojo! Zen’in!” The Principal’s eyes blazed with anger as they glanced between the two boys. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? This is a school! This is not your battlefield!”

Satoru, still seething, was yanked away by Suguru, who rushed at the sound of Yaga’s voice. Naoya’s friends hurried to help him to his feet, with the principal’s gaze bearing down on them as well.

“Both of you, to my office, now! Geto, Ieiri, Naoki, and Inoue too!” The man barked. “It’s good to know that your parents are here, so they can know what all of you have done.”

“Sensei, please, don’t tell my dad!” Naoya begged, falling on his knees. The scene was so pathetic that it made Satoru and his friends wince in disgust. “He’s gonna kill me.”

“You should have thought about that before starting a fight with Gojo. Now stand up and come with me! I won’t say it again!”

Satoru unclenched his fists, his chest still heavy with the remnants of his anger. His face also had traces of blood here and there that he quickly wiped away with the back of his hand, finding out that his sunglasses were now broken as an upshot of the fight. Naoya tried to hide his pain as he walked, wiping the crimson liquid from his nose and mouth, but the fear in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Satoru, what happened? Why did you attack him like that?” Suguru whispered, with concern etched in his features. Shoko rushed to their side, worried as well.

“Not now, Suguru.”

The white-haired boy followed the principal’s steps along with his friends, his rage gradually simmering down. As they walked past the stunned onlookers, his gaze met Utahime’s, remembering she was right there. But he quickly averted his eyes from hers, too ashamed to hold her stare.

As for her, she had witnessed the whole fight from a distance, with her heart pounding in her chest, unsure of what to do or how to feel, since she was certain that Gojo did not want anything to do with her, but wondering what had been the cause of the fight; and most importantly: what was he doing here, for it was obvious that he hadn’t come to watch her performance.

So, she stayed there, with her heart in her throat and a mix of confusing emotions fluttering in her stomach as she saw him leave—anger, because he had almost ruined the last minutes of her dance. Sadness, for the way he had avoided her for weeks without a single explanation. And concern, for the wounds and bruises on his face, and the sorrow that held the blue of his eyes.

He never looked at her again, but he was already regretting his previous outburst. He knew it had to be a lie; he had never seen Utahime talk to Naoya, and this guy was famous in school for his tendency to spread lies about girls that would never cross a word with him. The weight of what had just happened settled heavily on his shoulders, but he thought that he had to protect Utahime’s honor at all costs, and he was sure that this was the only way to stop Zen’in from tainting her reputation like he had planned to.

However, he knew that he had made things more complicated now, not only for him, but for his relationship with Utahime.

And the worst part was, he didn’t know how to fix this mess.

“Are you two fighting cocks?” Yaga’s voice boomed, reverberating off the walls of his office. The door was slammed shut as he glared at the group of students before him. “What were you all thinking? A fight in front of the whole school, specifically on Sports Day? Have you all lost your minds!?”

“He started it, Yaga- gakucho !” Naoya stood in the center, flanked by his friends, attempting to regain his composure by lifting his chin defiantly. He looked as sloppy as Gojo, their clothes sprinkled with blood, their hair a mess.

“Bullshit,” Satoru cut in, his voice low but cold and firm, something that made a shiver run down Naoya’s spine. “You know exactly what you said and how you provoked me. But I’m not repeating those disgusting words in front of our principal.”

Yaga’s sharp eyes shifted to Naoya, who squirmed in his place under the grip of his friends on his shoulders. The principal’s gaze narrowed, taking in the boy’s discomfort, feeling his confidence falter under his stare. He knew his student’s mean and cruel deeds, his proclivity to lie and get others into trouble, with no one to stop him but Yaga himself.

He knew Gojo too, and even when the boy was a troublemaker, the principal was aware that he was no liar and his sense of pride was too strong to get into a fight without a reason, more so, a fight like this one.

There was no reason to believe an inch of Zen’in Naoya’s words.

“So, Zen’in, did you do something to offend Gojo?”

“He’s a liar. I… I didn’t mean it like that. We were just talking—”

“You weren’t just talking,” Satoru broke in without looking at him, struggling to restrain his anger. “Stop being a coward and tell the principal how vile the comments you were making about Iori-senpai and the nasty things you said you would do to her. Come on, you prick. Be a man and tell him!”

“Sensei, I swear he’s lying—.”

“Would you look at me in the eyes and tell me he’s lying, Zen’in?” Yaga asked, his expression darkened. The lack of an answer and the hesitance in Naoya’s voice told the principal everything he had to know. “Well, I can only imagine what you said, given the record of insults against girls you have behind you. And you know very well this is unacceptable in our school, and you have to face the consequences of your actions. I’m calling Zen’in-san in this instant to inform him of your one-week suspension.”

Naoya’s face drained of color. “No, please! Don’t call my dad, Gakucho ! He’ll kill me…!”

“He won’t do that. Actions have consequences, kid. And it’s time you learn that lesson. Now get out, you three. Head to the detention room and wait there. Naoki and Inoue, I’ll decide later what your punishment will be. Get out.”

His friends left immediately, but Naoya closed his fists, glaring at the principal.

“You think my dad will believe all the lies you’re going to tell him? You don’t know he can get you fired, Yaga-sensei?”

That was the last straw, the one that made Yaga stop his way to the desk and turn back to him in the most calm way he could to punch his student in the head as a correction. Naoya winced, covering his head with both hands. Everybody knew that the principal took no shit from anyone, and this time won’t be the exception.

Suguru and Shoko snorted and pursed their lips, making a big effort to hold their laughter back.

“Go tell your father about this too. And don’t threaten me again, you brat. Now go to the detention room, or your punishment will be worse!”

Frowning and flinching in pain, Naoya finally shuffled out of the office. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the rest alone with the principal.

“Why?” Yaga turned his attention to them with rigid expression. “Why is it always you three? I didn’t expect better, much less from you, Satoru, but never this. You all know the rules, and you know the consequences of breaking them. I don’t care what your reasons were. Fighting is unacceptable.”

“Sensei, they weren’t fighting. Suguru and Shoko weren’t even with me, so the punishment has to be only for me alone,” Satoru explained. Unlike most of the time, he looked utterly serious, with thick traces of blood drying on his skin as he tried to block the sunlight that entered the room, already getting a headache.

“I saw Shoko slapping Inoue and Suguru kicking Naoki when I arrived. So they were, indeed, in the fight.” Yaga’s eyes diverted to the girl, raising an eyebrow. “I’m surprised that you were a part of it, Shoko. You’re not the type to get into fights. Actually, you’ve been here since preschool, and I have never caught you in that situation. You're always with those two, but never in the fight.”

“If you allow me to defend myself, sensei, this time was different,” the girl explained humbly, watching the principal use the desk as a seat.

“Enlighten me.”

“When those two fight between them, I know I don’t have to get into it. But this time, Naoki and Inoue were holding Gojo so Zen’in could punch him, and Suguru and I had to stop them.”

Yaga sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. For a moment, he noticed Gojo’s discomfort for the evening sunlight, and kindly handed him one of the sunglasses from the drawer of his desk.

“I can understand that you were just trying to defend your friend, but I can’t leave you go unpunished. You participated too. I know your father won’t like this, but rules are rules. And this school wouldn’t be what it has been for centuries without them.”

The girl just nodded, accepting her fate. Suguru offered a brief smile and winked at her, squeezing her hand in reassurance.

“So, what’s our punishment?” Satoru inquired, rubbing his eyes before slipping on the sunglasses. His demeanor was uncharacteristically subdued, showing no hint of his usual good mood, nor irritation at his friends’ intimacy.

But before the principal could respond, the office door swung open, revealing the arrival of a white-haired woman. Gojo Kaede’s presence was as imposing as ever, but the principal remained unfazed, meeting her eyes with the same unflinching authority he showed her son.

“Oh, Gojo-san. I was expecting you,” Yaga greeted her. The woman’s cold gaze swept over the room before settling on the principal, pausing briefly on Shoko to offer a polite—if fleeting—smile, while completely overlooking Suguru. Her eyes then fell on her son, and her displeasure on his unkempt and dirty appearance was unmistakable.

“What happened to my son?” The woman’s tone dismissed any need for formalities.

“Your son along with his friends,” Yaga started, “got into a fight with one of the students. Regardless of the provocation of the other kid, they broke the rules, and they will be punished accordingly.”

The woman’s eyes settled on her son with an intimidating expression that only made the boy frown.

“This is what you came here for? To fight?” She got no answer. Satoru only sighed with annoyance. “Should I send you to a military boarding school abroad for you to learn basic decency and behavior, Satoru?”

Suguru and Shoko swallowed their panic at the woman’s words.

“Knock it off, mother. I was just defending myself from that asshole,” he dismissed her, closing his eyes to give them some rest.

“So, I presume you called me here to witness your shameful display of violence today and your terrible aspect, instead of a baseball match. Am I mistaken?”

“I didn’t ask you to come. It was a school newsflash saying that all parents had to be here today, and you, for the first time in a century, decided that you could come to see me.”

As the prideful and cautious woman she was, Gojo Kaede restrained herself from taking the argument with her son farther. Her jaw muscles tightened, a raw and huge attempt to stop any words that could make her lose her composure, and she exhaled. “And what is the punishment?”

“He will be cleaning the school bathrooms for a week, along with his friends,” Yaga said firmly, leaving no room for disagreement. Suguru and Shoko didn’t seem happy, but they had to swallow their distaste in Mrs. Gojo’s presence.

The woman scowled, fixing her son with a cold, calculated glare. “Well, this is disappointing, but perhaps it’s the only way to teach you some human decency, instead of behaving like a beast. You are not just some student, Satoru. You are the Gojo family heir, and you must act accordingly. Consider this your warning: if the principal ever has to call me for something like this again, cleaning bathrooms like a filthy janitor will seem like a reward compared to what I’ll have in store for you.”

The woman turned on her heels, darting a last, icy glance at her son before leaving the office, her departure as swift and imperious as her arrival. Satoru grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes and pulling a mocking face at his mother’s retreating figure, safely out of her view.

Principal Yaga sighed, rubbing his temples. This kid was truly a headache.

Suguru and Shoko might have laughed at their friend’s face, if not for the despicable, spiteful remark Satoru’s mother made about being a janitor. Suguru’s own father had been one, back when they faced the calamities of times in need, and Kaede’s words only fueled the resentment that Suguru harbored against her for looking down on him ever since he and Satoru became friends.

Whether she did it on purpose or not, Suguru knew it was no accident coming from a woman like her.

When his friends’ parents entered the principal’s office, Satoru was already lost in thoughts, unceasingly replaying the events of the day and the way Utahime had looked at him as he walked out of the playing court. His mind kept going back to that moment, silently hoping for a way to finally face her.

Suguru had been right all along: he was acting like a coward.

Why did winning a girl over have to be so damn hard? For someone who had never needed to try, this was the most disconcerting challenge he had ever faced.

For Utahime, being away from Satoru wasn’t the relief she had once imagined.

Even when they had been apart before, it was never like this, much less for this long. His absence had left a void that was hard to ignore, especially since he had become such a solid presence in her life. Ever since their paths had crossed all these months ago, Gojo had a way of turning her once monochrome world into something vivid and colorful. His antics, his teasing, the way he always seemed to light up a room with his charm—it all added a buoyancy to her life that she hadn’t realized she needed until it was gone.

In the weeks that followed their distance, Utahime found herself drifting away from the trio she had spent so much time with. As for Shoko, she was still around, but their time together had become more sporadic, with the youngest girl having to split herself into two, as if the unexplainable rift between her senpai and Gojo had caused a ripple effect that was hard to mend.

In Shoko’s absence, Utahime started sharing more time with her kohai, Amanai Riko, who—as her choirmate—had the same love for music and, furthermore, was a kind girl. After having traveled together before, bonding with Riko seemed easy, and their interactions provided some comfort, since the youngest girl seemed to harbor admiration for her; but it wasn’t the same. The banter, the laughter, the sense of belonging she had felt when she was with them—it all seemed like a distant memory now.

She missed them more than she was willing to admit. Even Geto, although they were not particularly close. At times, he felt like the kind of friend she could count on—steady with his wit and patience. Yet, what hurt the most was how much she missed Gojo. Each day, she wondered where she had gone wrong, what she could have done differently to keep him close and fix whatever had fractured them, her heart aching with longing to turn back time and never go to Okinawa with them, for it had been the turning point where it all had fallen through.

She continued muddling through her days, attending her choir rehearsals and diligently completing her assignments as if nothing had happened. All while the thought of Gojo insistently lingered in her mind. Some boys his age had started trying to get closer to her—more so after the incident—approaching her with requests for tutoring. But wary of their intentions, she had quickly dismissed them all. The only break in her routine came the day she went to visit her father’s graveyard in the Iori family plot at the Somei Cemetery, where she found her paternal grandparents who, unexpectedly, asked for her forgiveness.

Her grandmother was dying of an aggressive type of cancer. And after years of neglect and bitterness towards their granddaughter—blaming her and her mother for the death of their son—they thought it was better to make peace with the girl and the old woman’s soul before her time ran out. With a mix of regret and sadness, both her grandmother and grandfather apologized for abandoning her and for rejecting her presence in their lives. They confessed that she had always been a painful reminder of the son they had lost, and they couldn’t find the strength to bear it at the time.

The girl listened with reluctance: memories of the cold shoulders, the harsh words, and years of feeling unwanted by them flooded her mind; it was hard to let go of the silent hurt she had carried for so long. Yet, as she stood in front of them and faced their genuine remorse, she realized how tired she was of holding onto that pain. Utahime took a deep breath and forgave them, finally feeling a weight lift slightly off her shoulders.

Though she wasn’t entirely sure she could forget the years of being ignored and unloved, she found herself willing to make peace, if only for the sake of moving emotionally forward, being exhausted from fighting for years against the invisible force of her mother’s hatred and her paternal relatives’ estrangement. There was no hug, no tears, only a silent, wholehearted acquiesce as they nodded slowly, and she wished them good luck, acknowledging the effort they were making, even if it came too late, and eventually drifting away to never see them again.

Though she had accepted their apology, she couldn’t stop thinking about them as she walked, heading to the mall to pick up materials for a mockup she needed to make. She had already made peace with them, without a doubt, but she was aware that their absence had shaped her just as much as their eventual apology did. Years of abandonment couldn’t be erased in a single moment; but at least now, this was the closest semblance of closure she could get after all this.

Entering the bustling mall, Utahime let out a long sigh. Truth be told, she wasn’t accustomed to coming to this part of the city, but the supplies she needed for her mockup could be only found in this fancy mall. As she wandered through the aisles of an art supply store, something through the curtain walls—or rather, someone—caught her eye.

Dr. Ieiri Shuhei.

It was hard to miss Shoko’s father, with his distinctive features and the kind of arrogance that always marked his presence. Yet what really grabbed her attention wasn’t just him, but the woman he was with. She was elegant, carrying herself with a confidence that rang a bell in Utahime’s mind, along with her white hair, even when the girl couldn’t fully see her face. The couple were walking together and talking closely, their body language suggesting a certain level of intimacy that made Utahime wonder.

Was Shoko’s dad dating someone? The thought was strange, since she didn’t recall Shoko mentioning her father dating anyone. Then again, it wasn’t the type of issue Shoko would bring up casually, and also, it was particularly odd to witness someone like Dr. Ieiri in a place like this, especially when she had thought he wouldn’t frequent but the most exclusive spots in the city, aside from his own hospital.

Utahime wondered too if it would be too forward to ask Shoko about it or if she should just keep it to herself. After all, it wasn’t her place to interfere in family matters. And still, curiosity gnawed at her, more so when there was something oddly familiar about the woman who walked by the doctor’s side.

As the pair drifted out of sight, Utahime turned her attention back to the task at hand, gathering the supplies she needed.

Goddammit.

She sighed when she heard the total price at checkout: 15000 yen. It was a fact that she had her savings for last-minute school assignments, but spending that amount in one go was a big hit to her pockets, and definitely not something she could afford to do regularly, but she quickly resigned herself to it. It was no use to dwell on it now.

Walking out of the store, her mind wandered back to the same place it always did lately.

Gojo Satoru.

She didn’t want to think about him, yet somehow his presence seemed to follow her everywhere, like a moth to a flame. His laughter, his teasing, the way he looked at her during her last performance— yeah, of course she had noticed —it all replayed in her head, over and over again.

Even as she left the mall, his image clung to her mind, haunting her with every step. She looked up at the early autumn sky and couldn’t help but imagine his blue eyes watching her, wishing more than anything that he would appear out of nowhere, falling into step beside her with his stupid long legs and imposing height and his perfect yet unruly hairstyle. She pictured herself voicing the questions that had been eating at her, asking why he had pulled away, why their bond had fractured, and what she had done wrong for him to run away and never come back, all while he listened with that familiar, infuriatingly calm grin of his.

Or maybe not.

No matter how much she tried to push him away from her thoughts, he always found his way back in, as if he were a part of her routine—just like the grandparents that abandoned her, the friends she missed, the father and grandma that left her too early, the mother she never really had, and the life she—on her own—was still trying to helm.

Chapter Text

“I swear I won’t do this ever again.” Shoko whined and cursed under her breath, scrubbing the toilet with long rubber gloves stretching up her forearms—all while the boys chuckled at her misery.

Not that they were off the hook; Satoru and Suguru were also hard at work with the walls and floors. Despite Satoru not being used to house chores, he seemed to be oddly enjoying his punishment—whistling and tossing out bad jokes now and then—sparkling laughs from Suguru and exasperated glares from Shoko.

“Shoko-chan, when life gives you lemons..." He teased.

“Shut up. I hate every second of this. And you’re the reason why we’re here cleaning this disgusting shit.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask any of you to join my fight!” Satoru scowled, wiping sweat from his temple.

“Oh wow, not even a ‘thank you’ after we saved your butt from Zen’in and his lackeys!!” Shoko snapped.

“Okay, guys, enough.” Suguru dropped the brush and raised his hands in a peace gesture. “We shouldn’t be fighting over this. Why don’t we just focus on finishing this task quickly and go home? I’m really starving here.”

Satoru left his mouth ajar to protest, but Suguru shook his head in disapproval, avoiding a bigger argument between them when he perfectly knew that Shoko was right.

As they settled into a reluctant truce, the boys’ bathroom door creaked open. Principal Yaga appeared behind, with a mix of scrutiny and annoyance in his expression that stopped the trio’s blabbering.

“Shoko,” the principal called out, his stern gaze drifting between the boys and the girl through his dark glasses. “That’s enough for you. You’ve learned your lesson.”

“What? Only Shoko?” The boys protested.

“Considering that your friend played a lesser role in the fight against Zen’in and the others, she can go home now.”

Hastily peeling off the rubber gloves, Shoko looked up at the principal with a gleeful smile. “Thank you, gakucho.” She took off the apron that covered her uniform and washed her hands, looking back at the boys with a smug grin. “Good luck, gentlemen. Try not to get too comfy here without me.”

“Great,” Satoru groaned. “Abandon us to our fate, dear Shoko. We’ll be okay,” he muttered with a mock pout.

Squinting in the boys’ direction, Yaga spoke. “Consider yourselves lucky that I won’t extend your punishment. Both of you are to finish what’s left. And don’t even think about slacking off—I’ll be back to check.”

The adult man nodded to the girl, who followed him out of the bathroom after flipping the boys off. Satoru sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically, seeing himself and his friend now alone, throwing a forlorn glance at the toilet brush in his hand. 

“I swear, Suguru, this school just has it out for me.”

Suguru laughed, shaking his head. He was already squeegeeing the soap off the walls while Satoru took up where Shoko had left off.

“Well, instead of whining like a baby, why don’t you focus on what to do about Utahime-senpai?”

Satoru stopped mid-scrub, pondering on his friend’s words, his scowl deepening. “What is it with her?”

“Oh, c’mon, you know what’s with her. You’d have sorted this mess out ages ago if you had had the balls to face her and be honest. You can’t keep going like this, man.”

“Ah, is that so?” Satoru scoffed with a bitter edge in his voice. “What do I do now? Go to her and confess just like that?”

“Exactly. Stop being a chicken and tell her how you feel.”

“Oh yeah, you think it’s so fucking easy to deal with that woman. Telling her might be counterproductive!”

“What are you talking about, Satoru?” Suguru inquired, finishing with the walls and grabbing the mop now to dry the floor.

“She’s not like other girls! I can’t just go to her and tell her, ‘Hey, I like you’, because I’m sure as hell that she’d slap me right there.” He sighed, scrubbing harder as he spoke. “It’s that simple. I think I should just... forget about her.”

Shaking his head, Suguru hummed. “That’s sort of the coward’s way out. But good luck with that, my friend, because I don’t think you can. All I suggest is for you to stop acting oddly around her. It’s stupid to avoid her when she’s Shoko’s friend, so ours too, and that stupid behavior won’t do any good to you.”

“You think it’s so fucking easy, don’t you?” Satoru shot back, rolling his eyes.

“C’mon, don’t be a dumbass. Man up and ask her out.” Suguru grabbed one of the brooms, playfully swatting him on the back. “Worst case: she says no. But you’ll survive.”

“Fuck you, Suguru!” Satoru took another broomstick, hitting his friend back in retaliation. It didn’t take them long to start a playful woodsword duel that escalated hastily, with buckets tipped, water splashed and suds flew as they spun around the mess they had worked so hard to clean.

“Hear me out, you prick.” Suguru said between strikes, his hair falling loose with each clash of the wood. “This is her last year at school. Next year, she’ll be off to university, and you’re screwed. If you don’t speak, she’ll forget about you, and you’re gonna miss the window because—Ah! Fuck you!” He felt a slap on his right arm, quickly looking for his revenge. “Because she’ll be around men, all of them older than us.”

Crushed by the imminent truth of his friend’s words, Satoru halted abruptly, giving Suguru the asset to land the last strike.

But the hit on his arm was nothing compared to the haunting realization: Utahime was two years older than him, and it meant that she would leave school soon. If he didn’t act now, she’d be gone. She would slip right out of his life, free to date anyone—someone older, someone who wasn’t him.

The thought was like a punch to the gut, making his grip tighten on the broomstick.

Catching the boys off guard, the door swung open again, revealing principal Yaga as he surveyed the chaos inside the gym bathroom with a hard, unimpressed stare. His gaze went to the overturned buckets, the mess of soap and water, and the two boys frozen mid-duel.

“Another two hours.” The principal sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And I suggest you actually clean this time.”

“Oh shit.” Satoru and Suguru said in unison, regretting the fight that had just concluded.

Thank goodness it was Friday.

The basketball spun idly on his fingertip as Satoru wandered near the gymnasium. He couldn’t find a logical reason to be there, but he had felt drawn to this place since the end of the fourth period. Perhaps it was the faint hope of bumping into her—he knew half of her schedule—for it was time to face what had been gnawing at him for weeks finally.

His breath hitched when he rounded the corner to leave the basketball behind the bleachers.

There she was. Alone.

The girl he dreamed of stood in the gym, balancing an armful of sports equipment: volleyballs, cones and a couple of badminton rackets. The PE teacher had surely left her in charge of keeping the equipment in the sports store. She was wearing her sports uniform, a pair of high-legged shorts and a blue and white polo shirt with the school badge embroidered on it. Her cheeks were flushed from exertion, and some strands of black hair escaped her usual pigtails, sticking to her sweaty face.

He couldn’t understand why such a simple outfit made her look so... adorable.  

Staring at her unabashedly, he stopped in his tracks. “Cute,” he muttered to himself, with a soft chuckle following his voice.

Just as he debated whether to approach her, Utahime’s foot caught on a stray cone, making her lose her balance. And everything in her arms went tumbling to the ground with a loud clatter that tore a gasp out of her. “Dang.”

“Gotcha.” This was his chance. He strode over, picking up a volleyball that had rolled his way. “Need a hand, princess?” His voice was light and teasing as he held out the ball.

Utahime froze, looking up at him with an expression that was anything but surprise or amusement. But he could notice that she clearly didn’t see him coming. Her lips tightened into a straight line, her eyes sharp with resentment.

“I don’t need your help,” the girl spat curtly, snatching the volleyball from his hands. “I could do it on my own.”

The coldness in her voice took him aback momentarily. He blinked, her words stinging more than he wanted to admit, yet he still tried to play it off. “C’mon, no need to be so harsh. I just wanted to help you.”

“Help me?” Utahime hissed, rolling her eyes. “It’s been weeks since you talked to me for the last time, and now you want to help me? I’m not your plaything, Gojo Satoru, so you better find a new one to have fun with.”

“Utahime—”

“It’s Iori-senpai to you.”

She turned her back to him and swiftly locked the rest of the equipment in the store, only to walk away immediately.

Satoru stood there in silence, letting out a groan. “Fuck. I really screwed it up.”

His eyes followed her further down the path as if hoping she might turn back or give some sign that she wasn’t totally done with him. Yet such a moment never came.

Before leaving, Satoru noticed the moment when someone stepped into her path at the gym entrance. It was a tall, blonde boy with asymmetrical bangs and a severe and composed demeanor. Nanami Kento, a first-year student like him, in the same class as Zen’in Naoya. He was the firstborn of a prominent attorney in Japan, known for his integrity and commanding presence in the courtroom. Actually, Nanami Akira’s law firm had worked for Gojo Sora’s company before he died and, for some unknown reason, Gojo Kaede had hired another firm as soon as she took control of all the family businesses.

Satoru had seen Kento a few times—years ago, when their families happened to meet at upper-class gatherings, and now at school during morning assemblies, usually accompanied by his friend Haibara Yu, the one who balanced Kento’s seriousness with his easygoing and friendly charm. They had never been close due to the nature of their personalities and different class groups; however, Satoru had never held any grudges against him. There was no reason for it.

Nonetheless, seeing Nanami standing so close to Utahime now set Satoru’s teeth on edge.

He narrowed his sharp blue eyes, watching their exchange of words. The blonde boy’s posture was relaxed but respectful—the correct stance to address a senpai. He seemed to be asking for a favor. Haibara said something, too, punching the air with his fists enthusiastically. As for Utahime, she wore a faint smile, the kind Satoru hadn’t seen directed at him in weeks.

Mind you, with full knowledge he was the only one who should be held accountable for this turn of events.

“Thanks for agreeing to help us with chemistry after class, Iori-senpai.” Nanami’s voice was even and polite.

Satoru could catch snippets of their conversation as he drew closer, totally unnoticed by the group.

“It’s no trouble.” The tone of Utahime’s voice this time was far warmer than the one she had used with Satoru moments ago. “I’m glad to be of help.”

“I’ll finally pass the tests! Senpai, after this, I’ll ask my mom to bake a castella cake for you. Do you like castella cakes?” Haibara’s yell echoed in the wooden walls of the gymnasium, making her chuckle as she nodded at his question.

Nanami’s expression remained unphased. None of his friend’s jokes, cheerful remarks or joyful spirit ever made him react.

In Satoru’s opinion, he was truly a boring dude.

But for some reason, his proximity—not Haibara’s—to Utahime brought uneasiness to his chest. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw tightening as jealousy flared deeply and mightily in his guts.

Chemistry tutorials to other guys ? Weren’t these only for Shoko? Since when was she tutoring other guys ?

He saw the trio walking off together, chatting amicably. The view made him stand frozen in place, glaring at them.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he grumbled, his mind racing with thoughts of how to win the girl back.

As sunlight streamed through the gymnasium windows during that morning hour, catching in his white hair and casting a halo-like glow around him, an idea struck Gojo Satoru with unbidden clarity—so brilliant, so vivid it felt almost divine in origin.

Mochi.

Mochi was going to be his saving grace.

Utahime couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw Mochi’s milky and fluffy mop of fur sneaking through her window and landing on her bedroom floor, wagging his tail furiously. He had clearly grown up; his snout and paws looked longer, and his complexion had undeniably grown thicker. She smiled, remembering how she had found him, all alone and howling for food when he was just a puppy, having to keep him hidden behind a waste container near her house so nobody could harm him or take him away, until Gojo offered himself to take the little stray with him.

It had been months since then, and she was glad that Mochi had a better life now than the one she could ever give to him.

Right before she could process how he had gotten here, the culprit followed suit—a tall, lanky boy with wild white hair and a grin so wide that made her wonder if his cheeks didn’t hurt from the exertion.

As the beanpole he was, Gojo Satoru struggled to squeeze himself through the window frame, a hilarious sight as his long limbs flailed slightly before he could finally land with a triumphant hop. He sighed, pushing his round glasses up his nose.

Her emotions flowed in succession: panic at first from having him here in her bedroom; joy for seeing Mochi again after so many weeks as he happily barked and bounced towards her... Until the initial relief was cut short when her irritation bubbled in her stomach, and all the weeks of his silent treatment came to her in full force. She was mad, really mad at him for everything he had done.

Or rather, for everything he didn’t do.

As she let Mochi greet her with unceasing puppy kisses, her eyes traveled to the anxious boy who stood near the window, expecting to be acknowledged. He could instantly see the frown on her eyes, the expression of disapproval that made her mouth twitch before speaking, leaving the pup to jump onto the mattress and claim it as his personal trampoline, just like he used to do with Satoru’s.

Being here with her made it extremely hard for this boy not to throw himself into her arms and be true to his feelings once and for all.

But the fear of rejection ate his insides up like some kind of virulent disease that threatened him with shattering his soul into tiny pieces of self-pity.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded. And her voice was sharp enough to cut the air like scissors to paper.

Sheepishly, Satoru scratched the back of his head. His slender figure blocked the moonlight from crossing the window as he stood there. “Uh… I just… I wanted to talk. You know, Mochi missed you and all. So I figured I could do him a favor and come visit his mommy.”

She glared at him, crossing her arms. “Mochi missed me? Or you’re rather using him as an excuse?”

Satoru winced at her words, but he wasn’t willing to back down. “Okay, yeah. I missed you too, and we both wanted to visit you. And… I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Frowning, Utahime let out a humorless chuckle, crossing her arms to set a boundary between them. “You think you can just come here, climb through my window, use Mochi to try to sugarcoat this and then everything will be magically fine?”

“Hmm… Maybe? I wanted to give it a try,” he quipped, his grin briefly surfacing.

Utahime rolled her eyes, sighing. “You ignored me for weeks; you were a jerk for weeks. But all I can give you now are ten seconds to explain yourself before I shove you out the way you came in, Gojo Satoru.”

He just smiled, knowing that she wouldn’t dare throw him out of the window. He relaxed, making himself comfortable on her bed, his hand reaching out to scratch Mochi’s ear as the pup rolled down onto his back next to him, blissfully enjoying his owners’ attention.

“I like your bedroom. It’s cozy.”

“Leave now, Gojo. My mom—”

“I know your mom’s not here, or we would have heard her asking who you are talking to or stomping in here to kick me out just for the sake of messing with you, so don’t, Utahime. I know you are alone.”

“Ok—Okay, fine,” the girl stuttered, helpless against his arguments. “Cut your crap and speak. Why did you come? Anything you had to tell me could have waited until tomorrow at school.” Not even Mochi’s soothing presence could fade the anger and hurt that Utahime had carried for weeks.

“Well, I not only wanted to visit you, but to warn you, Utahime.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Warn me? About what?”

“Well, you don’t need to talk to me like that. Why don’t you sit first?”

“No. I won’t sit next to you. You should get out of my bed instead.” She grumbled, her lips furrowing.

“C’mon, don’t be so mean to me. I know I acted like an idiot, but I promise I want to make things right. Just take a seat, okay?” He patted the other extreme of the mattress, next to Mochi so he would stay between them.

Reluctantly, Utahime agreed, her arms still closed as she sat at the edge of the bed, as far as she could from Gojo. “So, speak out. I don’t want you to be on my bed.”

“Why not? I’m not doing anything wrong,” Satoru explained, tilting his head to the side. Mochi padded over to him, nudging his hand with his wet nose. The pup’s gaze drifted between them, wagging his tail with such pure, unfiltered joy that it was hard for them not to smile despite the situation.

Mochi loved being with them both at the same time—his two favorite people in the world, but that was something they’d never know.

“Just speak.” Utahime’s impatience made Satoru straighten his back and clear his throat before uttering a word again.

“Fine. Fine.” The boy cracked his neck with a soft motion as Mochi nuzzled his hand. “I saw you… talking to Nanami Kento.”

Frowning in confusion, the girl puffed. “Yeah. And?”

“May I ask why he reached out to you?”

Utahime took her time to answer, unsure of why he was acting so weirdly. She didn’t notice the bubbling in her guts—the blatant need to explain that she wasn’t even Nanami’s friend. “I tutor him, okay? The same way I tutor Shoko sometimes. Not a big deal.”

“Just like you tutored Zen’in Naoya too?” He spat out of a remaining jealousy.

Utahime snapped. “What are you talking about? I don't even know that guy!”

Satoru shrugged casually, masking his discomfort after Naoya’s mention. “Okay, fine. You’re just tutoring Nanami. But you should know something about him. Rumor has it he’s not... as squeaky clean as it seems.”

Suspicion flickered across Utahime’s face as she raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What do you exactly mean with that?”

The boy inhaled, filling his lungs with an exaggerated air of confidentiality as he leaned forward. “You won’t believe it. But he plays with girls. That’s what people at school say. You should be careful about that brooding attitude of his because he uses it to trick women into his net, like a fucking spider. Not a reliable guy if you ask me.”

She stared at him in disbelief for some seconds before letting out a snort. “You’re joking, right? Nanami-kun is as serious as a heart attack. I bet he wouldn’t know how to flirt even if someone handed him a manual.”

“Not joking at all, Utahime.” Satoru pouted. “Maybe he’s just hiding it well. A wolf in a lamb’s suit.”

Rolling her eyes, Utahime groaned. “Be serious, Gojo. I’m nothing more than his senpai, but I know he’s nothing like that. He’s a good guy—polite, a gentleman. And he doesn’t waste anyone’s time with nonsense.”

Wincing at the girl’s retort, Satoru felt suddenly defensive. “Oh wow, the perfect guy, I guess, isn’t he? You seem to know him pretty well, Utahime. But I don’t know what’s so great about him, then. A walking statue who probably bores girls to tears with his librarian attitude.”

That was the moment when Utahime snapped back, and her voice came out laced with irritation. “Well, maybe having a librarian attitude is way better than being a playboy like you, who’s been through half the school girls.”

The moment her words left her mouth, Utahime froze, realizing what she had just said. The hurt that flashed across Satoru’s face when he opened his eyes wide for a second was subtle but unmistakable. All cockiness in his expression vanished abruptly, and for the first time in their conversation, he wasn’t able to say a word again.

“Gojo…” she whispered. Her voice had grown softer as guilt flooded her throat. “I didn’t mean—”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He interrupted her, waving a hand at her dismissively as he slowly stood up from her bed. “You’re probably right. Why would someone like you like to be friends with someone like me anyway? If he’s the good guy you say he is, then you’re out of my league. I understand I’m not as good as him.”

“I—.” The words had hit her harder than she expected. And she opened her mouth to say something, yet nothing came out.

“I should go now. Mochi, say bye.” Satoru picked up Mochi and walked to the window with the pup under his arm.

“Gojo…”

“Don’t worry, Hime. I’ll see you tomorrow at school.” He gave her a weak attempt at a grin, but it never reached his eyes. He climbed back out of the wood frame, disappearing into the night before she could reach out to him and stop him. And she was left there, wearing her heart on her sleeve, heavy with the weight of everything she said. Utahime buried her face in her hands, because it wasn’t just guilt what she felt—it was fear, too.

She hadn’t meant to hurt him, but her own insecurities about the nature of their relationship had somehow come bubbling to the surface. She had thought badly of him once, back when she didn’t really know him. His flashy attitude, his overconfidence, and the stories she had heard about him getting laid with all the girls at school—they had all painted in her mind the image of someone shallow and frivolous.

But she knew much better now.

She knew him.

She knew now that he wasn’t the sum of his flirty demeanor or occasional showmanship. He was kind, good-hearted, loyal, selfless, and despite that infuriating arrogance that he liked to show off at first sight, he unconditionally cared about the people he loved.

Yet her own fears had made her lash out.

What if she, like these other girls, was just another fleeting moment to him?

What if, after she graduated school and went off to college, he forgot about her the way he seemed to move on from everything— every girl —else so easily?

The possibility scared her more than she was willing to admit, and she whined, her face still in her hands, alone in the solitude and darkness of her dimly lit room.

“I didn’t mean it, Gojo…” She whispered, sobbing. “I just don’t want to be someone you forget when I’m gone.”

But he wasn’t there anymore, and the ghost of her voice hung amid the silence, with no one but herself to hear it.

Suguru and Shoko weren’t oblivious to the tension that reigned over their two friends when they met during a break the next day. Not that Satoru was looking for her now; actually, his attitude seemed to be indifferent when Shoko called Utahime from across the playground and the girl walked to them, with an obvious spark of hope in her honeyed eyes that was swiftly extinguished as soon as she looked at Satoru.

“Hi,” the girl said almost timidly. Only Shoko and her boyfriend answered her greetings, but all Satoru did was nod, devoid of his signature cheerfulness and the need to tease her whenever she was close.

Suguru and Shoko cast confusing glances at each other, wondering what had happened.

“Senpai! Why don’t you sit with us? I have something to tell you! Are you okay?” Shoko left Suguru’s side and clung to the girl’s arm, smiling from ear to ear. There was a soft pink envelope in her hand that she flapped ceaselessly.

“Oh, um, yes. I mean, I’m okay, but I gotta go to the choir room now.” Utahime’s smile, on the contrary, felt unnatural, now avoiding to meet Satoru’s gaze at all costs.

“Fine, just let me give you this.” The brown-haired girl handed her friend the pink wrap, and Utahime took it, trying to ignore the moment when Gojo Satoru stood up from his spot at the table and pulled Geto by his shirt, prompting him to go to the soccer field together to join their classmates in a brief match.

“What—” Utahime’s voice faltered slightly, but she was quick to fade it by clearing her throat. “What’s this?”

“Open it. It’s your invitation to my birthday pool party. Please, senpai. You’re the first one I give it to, so you have to promise me you’ll be there with me.”

“Shoko, I—”

“Pretty please?” Shoko crooned, giving Utahime the puppy-dog eyes. “Look, whatever you need, just tell me. We’ll fix it. But I won’t take a no for an answer. You’re my best friend, senpai. I need you there.”

With her thumb brushing over the envelope, Utahime took a long glance at it. She forced a small smile, even when her heart felt heavy with anxiety about her situation with Satoru.

A tiny corner of her mind wondered why someone would throw a pool party exactly during the fall. Maybe it was due to the season this year being slightly warmer than others, but the thought was dismissed as quickly as it came. After all, this was far from being a concern to her.

“Okay,” the girl finally said, her voice lacking the enthusiasm that Shoko was expecting. “I’ll be there.”

“You’re the best, Utahime-senpai!” Shoko squealed, giving her a quick hug. “I can’t wait to spend my birthday with you! Why don’t you stay and eat with me? The boys left me alone.”

Utahime hesitated, clutching the pink envelope as if it weighed more than it really should, and her gaze fell to the ground.

“I’d love to, Shoko. But I can’t.”

“Oh, right. The rehearsal,” Shoko’s voice dwindled slightly.

“But I promise I’ll be there.”

“And I’ll promise it’ll be amazing!” The youngest girl bit her lip with excitement. Her senpai forced another smile before excusing herself to walk away. Once she was out of Shoko’s sight, her expression faltered, sighing.

Shoko didn’t understand.

She couldn’t.

The truth behind her reluctance was a weight she carried in her chest. For someone like Ieiri Shoko, the daughter of a respectable, well-off doctor, a pool party sounded like a dream already come true—carefree, effortless—the perfect time to forget about worries and relax. An event that had occurred in her life not twice but many times, speaking of how easy everything had ever been for her.

But for someone like Iori Utahime, it was yet another reminder of how much she didn’t belong to this wealthy and privileged world.

Her mind rambled to her weekend shifts at the small café near her apartment, where she worked tirelessly to scrape together enough to cover what the social assistance income couldn’t provide. Every yen she earned was accounted for—school supplies and occasional expenses on food and sheet music. For her, buying a swimsuit when she didn’t truly need it nor use it, felt frivolous and out of reach.

How could she explain that to Shoko?

How to explain the urge to choose necessities over luxury to someone who came from a family where money had never been a concern?

Utahime knew her friend well enough to know that Shoko would help her without a second guess. She had done that before. But that was the unerring reason why accepting such help made Utahime’s stomach churn. She couldn’t bear the thought of Shoko—or rather anyone—seeing her as a charity case, as someone to pity. Her pride could never allow that, even when that pride came with a certain amount of sadness—the reminder of how much harder everything was and would always be for her.

A few years ago, when she accepted the scholarship to this prestigious school, Utahime had been hopeful—excited, even. Not every kid won the chance to study at such a renowned institution as the Sugawara Academy, and it meant a huge chance to pursue her dreams and prove herself worthy of whatever challenge crossed her way. But she quickly realized that the reality was harsher than she’d ever anticipated, finding an arrant social gap between her and her peers that soon started to suffocate her, forcing her to become a ghost from the moment she joined so she could go unnoticed for the rest of her time there, and no one could look down on her.

Days like these reminded her that, no matter how hard she tried, she would never truly fit into this world.

That’s how her thoughts drifted to Gojo, recalling the way he had treated her earlier, so cold, so indifferent, so distant, as if she were just another passing face in the crowd. And it stung—more than she wanted to admit, wondering if that was it, if all she was to him now was a mere acquaintance.

Someone he would easily forget.

Forcing her tears to stay at bay as she approached the choir room, Utahime’s chest tightened. She had promised Shoko to be at her party, even if the idea filled her with dread. Of course, Gojo Satoru would be there, effortlessly as charming as ever, surrounded by his classmates and admirers, and always larger than life.

As for her...

She would feel like an outsider. Someone who would never belong. A fish out of water. But she was a woman of her word, and she wouldn’t let her friend down.

“You’ll get through it, Utahime.” She whispered to herself before opening the classroom door. “Someday, all this will be just a nightmare.”

Despite everything, she got ready to sing.

But her heart had never felt heavier.

Every time Satoru thought of Iori Utahime, his chest felt like crushing.

Many events and people had passed by and given him his fair share of pain in his short lifespan. The death of his beloved father, attempts at mean words from mean adults, kids, and even his own mother’s signature coldness. Yet none of the wounds left by these attempts had cut as deeply as the ones this girl had inflicted. Not once, but twice.

He had understood her reasons the first time. He forgave her easily, accepting and savoring the cupcakes she had baked for him as an apology, relishing in all the subtle smiles she had given him that day after their making up. And, for a moment, he felt like everything was back to normal. Like everything was going to be okay with her.

But it didn’t feel the same this time. He doubted there was a number of cupcakes capable of erasing the sting of her words—the harsh and cruel comparison to the very playboy stereotype he had grown to hate being reduced to. Because the insult wasn’t the words themselves, but the implication that she thought so little of him, that everything they had lived together and the moments they had shared seemed to mean nothing.

That he meant nothing .

He ended up thinking that it had been better to never confess. Her words had been nothing else than a foretaste of the rejection he was going to face if he dared to open his heart to that girl.

As he made his way to the school gates to get into the family car, Satoru sighed, kicking a pebble. Maybe it was better to let Utahime go and to move on. She had always been a puzzle, an enigma of fire and softness, the only person—the only girl—who could make him feel invincible and insignificant, all in the same breath. However, perhaps it was time to leave the hurt and confusion behind.

The next few weeks were a blur of school events and baseball practice. Halloween came and went alongside its usual chaos and enthusiasm, with a costume contest among high schoolers that ended in Suguru winning as a samurai, much to Pharaoh Satoru’s annoyance, and a class prank from the boys that left their homeroom teacher and all the girls covered in fake snot.

The cultural festival followed in early November, with Satoru manning the baseball club’s batting challenge booth, surrounded by cheering fans and classmates and endless chatter after he sent another ball sailing into the outfield, interrupted when all the high school first-years were called to participate in the Teru Teru Bōzu doll-making stand, whether they wanted it or not.

He threw himself into every activity, hoping to drown the ache that clung to his heart every time Utahime crossed his thoughts. He enjoyed seeing Zen’in Naoya suffer in silence after being forced to decorate his charm as he cursed under his breath. He frowned when Shoko finished first because he had been too busy making fun of Zen’in with Suguru to care for his own doll. He smiled wider, laughed louder and played harder, all in an attempt to convince himself—and everyone else—that he was fine.

He had to be.

But at nights, in bed, when the buzz of the day had faded and he found himself alone with his thoughts, her face crept into his mind like mist. The way she scrunched her nose and squinted when she was frustrated, the sound of her giggles when she let her guard down around him, her scent, soft and clean, the gloss of her lips so tempting, and her honeyed eyes so perfect that he buried his face in his pillow, screaming until Mochi came to his rescue with happy licks, curling next to his dad to give him comfort.

And now, with Shoko’s birthday party around the corner, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to see her again or avoid her altogether. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to bear another conversation where her words left him feeling like he was grasping at the sand. Still, he knew he would go. His friend wouldn’t let him miss it, and truth be told, he didn’t want to miss it either.

Part of him hoped that the party brought some kind of resolution, no matter what it could be.

Nonetheless, he would push the thought aside for now, cuddling with his pup to get some sleep as he waited for the time to go to Shoko’s house the next day.

And he found himself standing inside the gates of the Ieiri estate on the afternoon of November 7, adjusting his round, dark sunglasses and running a hand through his perfectly tousled white hair. His breezy linen shirt was unbuttoned just enough to hint at his toned chest, paired with tailored shorts that screamed of summer charm despite the brisk autumn season. The boy looked like he had just stepped out of a magazine spread—irresistibly and undeniably handsome.

With Mochi trotting happily beside him on his leash, they both crossed the straight path that led them to the backyard, turning heads as soon as they made their appearance. The pup wagged his tail enthusiastically, unaware of the attention he and his owner garnered. Satoru strolled in with him, wearing his signature smirk on his face, leaving a trail of whispers and admiring looks from some of the girls lounging in the warm pool water.

“Wow, look who’s here. Gojo-san cleans up nicely, doesn’t he?” One of the girls murmured, her friend giggling in agreement.

“What I wouldn’t do to be his girlfriend,” another remarked, chewing on her lower lip and eyeing him up as he quickly pushed up his glasses to scan the scene.

The Ieiri family backyard had been perfectly set up for Shoko’s party. There were colorful string lights that crisscrossed above, and a long table with snacks and drinks near the pool. A group of almost 40 teenagers mingled among classmates, Dr. Ieiri’s acquaintances’ children, and a few relatives, some of them splashing in the water, others seated on lounge chairs, chatting and laughing, and others dancing near the speakers.

No adults in sight, except for a lifeguard and a waiter, thank you very much. Dr. Ieiri must have been away for some medical issue, much to his daughter’s relief.

Shoko spotted her friend almost immediately and waved at him, beckoning him to come. Next to her were Suguru—first and foremost—and a few of her science clubmates.

“Gojo, you’re late!” She yelled as he approached, handing him a cup of Coke. “Mochi! You’re here too! I knew you couldn’t resist showing off your little sidekick.”

Satoru scoffed, feigning offense with a hand to his chest as he threw on the chair a little bag he was carrying. “First of all, Mochi is the life of the party, just like his daddy. Secondly, I’m not late. You know that good things take time, so here I am.”

Shoko rolled her eyes but chuckled, crouching to pet Mochi while Suguru left a space on the deck chair for his friend. “C’mon, everyone’s been waiting for you.”

“Everyone?” Satoru echoed, raising an eyebrow.

Shoko didn’t answer, but instead, she dragged him toward the crowd and unleashed Mochi to let him run free around the place. Satoru’s eyes scanned the yard, now unaware of the attention he effortlessly drew, and his heart skipped a beat when they finally found Utahime.

There she was, standing out in all her modest elegance, even among the brightest personalities at the party, with her hair tied up in a loose bun and wearing a simple swimsuit under an oversized white shirt. She was talking to one of Shoko’s little cousins, with a subtle but warm smile as she listened to the kid, letting Satoru know that perhaps she felt more comfortable with that girl of all people in this place.

He couldn’t look away as fast as he tried. The girl of his dreams wasn’t dressed to turn heads, but to him, she was radiant, carrying that quiet grace that had always drawn him in.

Shoko smirked, nudging him with her elbow. “Stop gawking and go talk to her, you moron. Akiko-chan stole her since she came and they’ve been talking nonstop.”

“I wasn’t gawking,” Satoru replied, taking a sip of his coke. “And no thanks. I’m good right here.”

Unimpressed, Shoko scowled. "Yeah, suit yourself and keep trying to fool yourself. Good luck with that.” She wandered off to greet other guests.

Suguru went to his friend, landing a hand on his shoulder to make him sit on the deck chair. There was no need for Satoru to explain what was happening, for he already knew. But as the good friend he was, it was his duty to distract his pal from whatever plagued his mind.

As for Satoru, he started looking for Mochi until he spotted him, running to the other side of the pool to meet Utahime. He had no concept of awkwardness or unresolved emotions; he simply wanted to greet his beloved mommy with his usual enthusiasm, drawing the little girl’s attention next to her. He saw them chatting as they ruffled Mochi’s fur and then, as if sensing his gaze, Utahime glanced in his direction, her expression faltering for a split second but composing herself swiftly before offering him a small nod as her face went back to the pup and Shoko’s cousin.

Satoru sighed, comforted by Suguru’s pat on his shoulder. He decided that he would do his best to take her out of his mind for the rest of the day, even if his life depended on it.

“Let’s go to the pool, man. You need some fun here.”

Satoru nodded right away, his thoughts brushed aside. “Fine. I go first!” He quickly shrugged off his shirt and left it next to a towel on a chair before walking to the pool—his lean, athletic frame and the smooth confidence of his movements catching more than a few glances as he jumped in.

Soon after, Suguru joined him, splashing him playfully as they swam to the deeper end; some others joined their joyful blast, especially his dog. The water felt warm, distracting Satoru for a while, with everyone waiting for their turn to be close to him—the star of the school—and his best friend. It all flowed nicely for a moment, but the white-haired boy found his thoughts drifting again despite himself afterward.

Every so often, and hidden behind the safety of his dark sunglasses, his eyes wandered to where Utahime sat as she talked to Shoko’s cousin, the little girl looking entertained with having someone older focused solely on her. Her laugh and her voice, soft and genuine, reached his ears even from across the pool, tugging at something deep inside him.

After a while, Akiko-chan excused herself to the restroom, leaving Utahime alone. She looked for a seat near the water that let her dip her feet into the water, unknowingly taking the one where Satoru’s linen shirt lay. Shoko yelled at her from the table, telling her to wait a little more until she could come to her. With the sunlight glinting on the ripples, her legs were bathed by a shimmering glow as she leaned back on her hands, her expression serene yet seemingly out of place. She couldn’t hear the whisperings among a few boys nearby as they stared at her, but their voices weren’t low enough to escape Satoru’s hearing.

“Look at that girl. She’s gorgeous, isn’t she? Look at those legs...”

“Is that the senpai from 3-A? The one who sings?”

“Gojo Satoru’s new chick.” This comment would have made Satoru smirk if hadn’t been for the malicious innuendo.

“Nah, not likely. He’s here and they haven’t spoken to each other at all.”

“That’s true. Anyway, the girl is really hot.”

“Yeah, but always so quiet. Bet she’s stuck up.”

“Just like Shoko-chan. But I wouldn’t dare to look at her. Her boyfriend is fucking scary.”

“Satoru, easy, man.” As affected as he was by the mean remarks over his girlfriend, Suguru chose to stay calm and grabbed his friend’s shoulder, yet he paid no heed, shaking his hand off. Satoru’s jaw tightened as he heard their loud cackles, catching snide laughs from a group of girls as he forded in the pool on his way to face the bunch of shittalkers.

“Utahime, sweetie.” The nerve of girls his age to call her by her name instead of addressing her with the due honorifics made his guts twist. “Is that oversized shirt of yours trying to hide your cheap swimsuit?”

As the girl spoke with mockery, her sidekicks giggled wickedly, whispering to each other behind their hands. Utahime’s shoulders stiffened, hurt by the mean attempt of an offense, but she wouldn’t let anyone humiliate her, opening her mouth to talk back.

However, she didn’t have to lift a finger. Satoru had had enough, and he didn’t think it twice.

Climbing out of the pool, under the irresistible sight of water dripping from his hair and torso, he strode towards the girls. “Hey,” he called out, his voice deep and rough. “If you’re done being jealous of Iori-senpai, maybe you could go somewhere else, unless you want me to kick you all out personally. I’m sure Shoko wouldn’t mind at all.”

The attackers froze, their laughter dying instantly at his words. Everyone looked at them with morbid curiosity, the heaviness of the moment letting each guest know that nobody could mess with Iori Utahime, even if she and Satoru were no longer friends.

No matter how mortified by Satoru’s intervention the group of girls were, they all had to scurry off while mumbling lame excuses.

Eyes wide in disbelief, Utahime looked up at him. “Gojo…”

He turned to her, his expression wearing an apparent nonchalance. “You thought I’d just let them talk to you like that? I’m not that kind of guy, Utahime.”

She saw him approach, and her heart hammered in her chest. Gojo looked stunning, breathtaking—wet hair plastered to his forehead, droplets sliding down his toned chest—all of him rendering her speechless, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence.

“I—Uh—” She stammered. Satoru raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t respond.

Instead, he leaned closer, his hand brushing past her shoulder, making Utahime’s breath hitch.

The girl’s mind swirled with a mix of emotions she couldn’t quite name.

“Uh… You’re sitting on my towel,” he warned her, reaching out for the cloth as his voice broke through her daze.

She blinked, startled. “What?”

“My towel,” he insisted, now pointing behind her.

She scrambled to her feet, flustered. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

Chuckling, Satoru pulled the towel free, draping it over his shoulders. Utahime remained glued to her spot, watching him as he ruffled his hair, her jaw slightly agape, totally mesmerized.

“Thanks.” He gave her a faint smirk before turning and walking away to the table, where Suguru was already gobbling up some snacks, prompting him to do the same. His retreating figure left her staring after him, her mind swirling in a chaos of embarrassment, gratitude, and something that bubbled in her guts and she refused to name.

Only Mochi was able to take her out of her trance when he appeared again, distracting her in Akiko-chan’s absence. Shoko would join her soon after. Finally.

But as she watched him from her spot, cheeks flushed and heart still racing, Utahime knew that things were far from being right.

At least not with the way he made her feel.

“Couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Suguru commented, giving his friend a knowing look.

Satoru shrugged, taking a piece of some sugary dessert to devour it in one bite. “Just doing the right thing.”

He stayed at the table for a while, half-ignoring, half-listening to Suguru and some of their classmates chattering nearby as he snacked and sipped on a cold soda. His mind still wandered, thoughts adrift between the girl and some quick distraction, and it went like that until his best friend called out.

“Man, you’re spacing out again.”

“Gojo-san doesn’t seem quite himself today.” Satoru heard one of his classmates, though he wasn’t sure who had spoken.

“Michiki-san is right. Go cool off in the pool before you melt.”

Satoru sighed, showing a wry smile as he stood up. “Fine. Don’t eat the cookies while I’m gone!”

He headed back to the pool, slipping into the water and getting on a float, eyes closed as he let the ripples carry him, and the fall breeze wash his thoughts off. Yet, after a while, even the water lost its appeal, quickly boring him. He paddled toward the edge and climbed out, grabbing his towel to sling it over his shoulders. Taking a few cookies more, another can of Coke and the little bag he had brought with him, he spotted Mochi lounging near Utahime and Shoko, wagging his tail as the girls scratched behind his ears between giggles. Satoru thought about calling him, but Mochi seemed happy, and so did they.

Thus, he went to the house, his bare feet padding quietly on the wooden floor. The air was warmer inside, and he felt relieved that the walls could muffle the noise from the party just a bit. Satoru made his way to one of Shoko’s bathrooms, shut the door behind him and dropped his towel onto the counter, peeling off his swim trunks with a sigh of relief.

“Fucking finally,” he muttered in front of the mirror, standing completely naked as he rifled through his bag for his change of clothes.

But before he could finish, the door burst open with a loud bang.

“Mochi-chan, come here!” Utahime’s voice barged in, following the pup as he darted into the room with jolly hops. “Oh my—!” She shrieked, hastily covering her face with both hands in utter horror the moment she realized what she had walked into.

Satoru froze in his spot, wide-eyed. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU LOCK THE DOOR?!” Her voice sounded affected by this unexpected discovery, but Satoru wasn’t sure if she was peeking through her fingers or not.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU KNOCK?!” Satoru shot back, with an oblivious-to-the-chaos Mochi barking happily around his papa’s feet.

“I was chasing him! He ran off and this house is so big that... WHY DON’T YOU JUST COVER YOURSELF? DON’T YOU HAVE ANY SHAME?!” Utahime stumbled back, keeping her hands firmly over her face.

Satoru felt embarrassed, even if just slightly, and grabbed the towel in a frantic attempt to cover himself. However, despite the awkward situation they found themselves in, he couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips.

If he wanted to get even for the way she had treated him some days ago, this was the perfect moment.

“So you’re peeping.”

“What?” She gasped. “I’m not—”

“And you’re impressed. Just admit it, Utahime.”

“SHUT UP!” She yelled, her face burning red now that her hands were not covering it anymore. “And get dressed!”

“You’re still standing here, though.” His observation was charged with teasing and amusement, tearing an exasperated groan out of the blushing girl in front of him.

Fumblingly, Utahime reached out for the door handle. “I—I’m leaving, okay? And this never happened!”

She stomped out and slammed the door shut behind her, with Mochi still inside and Satoru standing there, processing what had just happened.

The thrill that charged the air felt electrifying, running throughout his body and forcing him to lean on the counter for some air—that familiar gurgling welling up in his guts until he was panting, having to shake intrusive lewd thoughts off his mind.

Mochi tugged at his towel to hurry him and go out. There was nothing he could do about it other than getting dressed and, most likely, going home.

Utahime, meanwhile, stopped running when she reached the end of the stairs and leaned against the hallway wall, her heart pounding like a wild beast. Her mind was racing, replaying the scene she just witnessed over and over again, despite her efforts to shove it aside. She groaned, mad at herself for being so weak and unable to stop thinking of this boy—his broad shoulders, his toned chest and his...

“You are so stupid, Utahime!” She shook her head violently in an attempt to dispel her thoughts. She ran outside, excusing herself to Shoko to leave and never face that guy for the rest of the day.

But one thing was certain: she’d never look at Gojo Satoru the same way ever again.

As for him, Satoru managed to keep his cool long enough to leave Shoko’s house after the party, flashing his signature carefree grin and saying casual goodbyes to everyone. His friends, noticing that there was something going on, promised to finally take care of him and Utahime once and for all as soon as they could.

The moment Satoru got home, the facade began to crumble.

His bag was dropped by the door on his way to his room, with Mochi looking for his bed as soon as they stepped in, curling up with a contented sigh. Satoru flopped onto his mattress, staring at the ceiling with skittish thoughts twirling in a mess and Utahime’s face etched in his mind like a scorching memory—flustered, mortified, yet undeniably wide-eyed—all flashing before him as he groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Get a grip, man,” he mumbled to himself. Yet the more he tried to push her image away, the more vivid it became—her soft gasps, cheeks burning bright red and the nervous tremble in her voice as she commanded him to get dressed. He turned onto his side and rolled on his back again, unable to find a comfortable position. It wasn’t just embarrassment what ate at his guts—it was something rawer, deeper and hotter that coiled low in his stomach and refused to be ignored.

He exhaled heavily, and his hand started traveling down his chest, with every detail about her rushing forward to his brains unbidden—the honeyed hue of her eyes, the way her bangs fell to each side of her face and framed her features, the soft smile she wore when she wanted to be sweet. All of it mingled with not-so-innocent images filling his head, like the memory of her earlier while she stood by the pool, milky legs exposed as she dipped her feet into the water…

It was her oversized shirt doing little to hide the curve of her figure, and then the way she had stumbled into him, yelling at him in a way that made his pulse race.

His breath hitched and his hand reached south under his pants, his body reacting instinctively, surrendering to the heat that built within, starting with soft strokes that soon turned into something keener, more desperate. Unable to hold it for any longer, Satoru let his thoughts run freely as her name slipped off his throat in an endless, fogged whisper that matched the ragged motions of his hand, finally leading him to a cathartic climax.

He spilled himself on his stomach, his chest heaving with a mix of release and guilt swirling inside. He stayed there for a while, letting his senses return, his heart still pounding. He knew he couldn’t ignore it anymore—Utahime wasn’t just some fleeting teenage crush. She was something else, something dangerous that hovered between a choice and a need.

Something dangerous because she mattered more than he thought she did.

She mattered because it was her.

He knew it, because his two heads were thinking about her now.

And this realization, terrifying as it was, thrilled him to no end.

The school bell chimed, marking the end of the period. Utahime let out a small sigh of weariness, brushing a strand of hair from her face as she gathered her sheet music. She had bags under her eyes—the telltale of a sleepless night after having to hear her mother’s drunken screams and complaints for going to a party and leaving her alone to starve.

Well, at least it helped her to keep her mind from thinking too much about Gojo Satoru. More so after what she had... beheld.

Beside her, Amanai Riko lined up her sheets to keep them in her folder, her ever-cheerful smile lighting up her face.

“Great job, Senpai! You really led our chord well!” Riko exclaimed brightly.

“It’s nothing.” Utahime gave her a modest shrug, her eyes welling up with tiny tears as she held back a yawn she had been hiding throughout the entire rehearsal. “Ours is a good team.”

“Maybe, but you make it look easy. I think you’d be a great teacher, just like Kobayashi-sensei.”

“You think so?” Utahime said, her smile wider as they both walked out of the classroom to the school courtyard. Riko nodded enthusiastically.

“Of course!” The youngest girl took two bags of mushroom chips out of her pocket, offering one to her senpai. But glancing at Utahime, she hesitated. “Senpai, are you okay?”

Already munching on one of the bites, the oldest girl hummed, shaking her head as she forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind. Please don’t worry about it.”

“It’s for your upcoming tests, right? Since you’re a senior, next term will be hell for you. But I know you’ll do great for college, senpai!”

With a more genuine smile this time, Utahime sighed. “I hope so, Riko-chan. But I’ll miss the school, the choir, and you. You’ve been so nice to me.”

“I’ll give you my landline number and you can give me yours so we can keep in touch. Besides, my dad is a dean at Tokyo University, so I can still visit you there in case you win the scholarship.”

“Ah, I wish. I’ll be glad if you do, Riko-chan. And thanks for the snack.”

“Anytime!” Suddenly, Riko’s gaze shifted past Utahime’s shoulder, and her smile turned a bit awkward. “I’m sorry, senpai. I should get going. See ya!” She gave a quick bow and hurried off, leaving Utahime blinking in confusion until she turned right and saw Shoko’s approaching figure.

She shook her head, aware of the tension between her two friends regarding Geto Suguru.

How much did it take for a girl to get over a crush on a boy who saved her from some bullies back in elementary school?

Whatever. 

“Utahime-senpaaai!” Shoko greeted her casually, bringing two cans of juice in each hand. She stopped in front of her friend and, for some reason, Utahime could see the glimpse of a sharp mischief in her eyes. “Wanna sit with me?”

“Of course,” she replied, trying to sound neutral. She took one of the cans Shoko handed her, her other hand still busy with the mushroom snack Riko had given her. Did she look like she was famishing or something today? Anyways, she kinda was, unable to take her breakfast this morning for waking up a little late. And there was still some time left for lunchtime to come.

Together, they took a seat near the cafeteria. Shoko took her walkman out and gave Utahime one of the earphones to listen to together while they ate and talked.

“Alright,” Shoko was the first one to break the tension. “Won’t you tell me what’s happening between you and him?”

Utahime stiffened, yet she played it cool and sipped on her juice. “Me and who?”

“Oh, c'mon, senpai. Don’t give me that.” Shoko’s eyes narrowed. “Aren’t I your best friend?”

“Of course.”

“So why don’t you wanna tell me what’s going on between you and Gojo?”

The name punched Utahime in the guts, making her choke on her juice sip, the can nearly slipping from her grasp. “Wha—why would you even think that?”

“You two have been acting so weird since my birthday party. Weirder than the usual.”

“No. It’s all… Nothing’s going on, Shoko.”

The short-haired girl raised a brow, pressing the pause button in the player. “You think I’m gonna buy that? I thought you guys had patched things up because I saw you two talking at my party, and then you ran out of my house looking like a ghost, and he followed you after that as if nothing. So don’t insult my intelligence and try to make me believe there’s nothing happening. I’m concerned about you two.”

The oldest girl sighed, missing the sound of the music in her ear as she avoided Shoko’s knowing gaze. “There’s nothing to tell... He was just... annoying as always.”

“Just annoying,” Shoko replied flatly, stealing some mushroom bits from her friend’s bag. “Sure. So that’s why he avoided you for weeks, and then you started talking again at my party, and then you told me you had to leave and flew the coop after being with him alone in my house for a while. Right?”

“I—We didn’t—”

“Is that why you kept staring at each other like lovesick puppies the entire party?”

“Shoko—” Utahime stuttered, her jitteriness evident.

Her friend raised a hand, sighing with exasperation. She wasn’t having it any longer. “Senpai! Listen to me. He likes you. And I know you like him too. You guys are just too emotionally stubborn to acknowledge it!” She sipped her own juice, exhaled, and relaxed on her seat. "Uh, good grief! I finally took it out of my chest.”

Utahime’s head snapped up, eyes wide as the blood ran over her cheeks. “What? No! We—I don’t—That’s ridiculous!”

“Why is that ridiculous?” Shoko demanded.

“Because… Because he’s just Gojo!”

Shoko groaned, leaving her can on the table to rub her temples. “Ugh, why someone so smart can be so clueless? You two are impossible. Look,” Shoko took Utahime by her shoulders, staring right into her eyes. “I’ve known that idiot since preschool, and I can perfectly tell when he’s serious about something—or someone. And trust me, he’s never been more serious about a girl. Actually, hmm, he’s never ever been serious about one! But he’s serious about you.”

Opening her mouth to argue, Utahime raised a finger, yet nothing came out, her thoughts spiraling. Shoko let go of her but kept her eyes locked on her friend’s.

“Look, I can get it. He’s not the easiest person to deal with. Gojo is loud, annoying, and has an insufferable and massive ego. But he’s a good guy; he’s changed a lot of his ways, and I’m sure that it has to do with you.”

“I… I don’t know—”

“All I ask from my friends is to take the bull by the horns and get their shit together. Don’t try to deny it to me, because I know you like him, senpai. But you guys are scared of God knows what, and I’m not sure if you can keep going like this for any longer. Just think about it, okay? And stop being oblivious. It freaks me out.” Shoko patted her on the shoulder, standing up to leave but giving her the walkman before, so she could distract her thoughts with music.

Utahime was left rooted in place.

Her mind was a mess, feeling vulnerable as she processed Shoko’s words.

Gojo Satoru?

Gojo Satoru liked her? No. That couldn’t be right. He was obnoxious—always acting like a child. He never missed a chance to pester her, looking like a damn furby with his stupid, big and beautiful blue eyes. His stupid grin, his stupid mouth...

She liked Gojo Satoru? That couldn’t be. Absolutely not.

Right? Right?

Her thoughts faltered, with unbidden, blatant images flooding her mind—his lips curving into teasing smirks and the way he looked at her with those piercing eyes that seemed to see everything...

Yeah. His stupid mouth. A mouth she had wanted to feel on hers for a long time, refusing to admit it through and through until the serpent of Paradise—in the form of her best friend—opened her eyes with only a bite of that forbidden fruit.

Her brain protested, but it felt hollow, especially as a flood of memories betrayed her. She saw him in Shoko’s house again, bare skin glinting in the soft autumn light, the handsomeness of his smile, the unapologetic brightness in his presence.

The whirlwind inside her relented smoothly, but as it did, it also struck her with a steadfast truth.

For her, Satoru was like the sun—blinding, impossible to ignore, naturally born with an energy that filled every space he occupied. Ethereal, beautiful, soothing. His light had come to reach even the darkest corners of her life, warming and panicking her in equal measure.

Nothing was the same when he was not around.

He was made of sunlight itself, tangible and unreachable all at once, always radiating his glow, illuminating everything he touched.

Her chest tightened as the thought took root, and her heart thudded painfully. Her lip trembled and she bit it, gripping the edges of her uniform skirt tightly.

Despite the riot that broke out between her brain and her heart, she couldn’t stop thinking of him.

“Stupid Gojo,” she mumbled to herself with her face all flushed and pouting lips, wondering what she was going to do with all of this.

Chapter Text

No matter how much Satoru went against his mother, there were times when he couldn’t truly oppose her will. He tried not to delve into it, but her genes were the reason behind his unyielding spirit and strong-mindedness, and Gojo Kaede had never been less than a force of nature.

And so, here he was, stuck at the Country Club, enduring hollow conversations from hollow adults about wealth and property, each word twisting his guts as he stared blankly into the middle distance, his chin propped on his hand after finishing his lunch. Beside him sat Shoko, both their families having coincidentally crossed paths during one of their infrequent visits to the exclusive clubhouse—a place reserved for Japan’s most prominent clans, including members of the Imperial Family.

He had been so absorbed in his own thoughts that he couldn’t really know what his mother and Shoko’s father had been talking about through most of the lunch, and with Shoko just gone to the bathroom and no buffer for the endless parade of parental opinions, Satoru really felt like fed up here.

As Dr. Ieiri kept eating, he turned his attention to the boy with a sharp gaze. “So, tell me, Satoru-san, are you interested in pursuing a career as a professional baseball player? According to Shoko, your stats are impressive.”

But Kaede’s voice rose above her son’s even before he could utter a word, crisp and unwavering. “Absolutely not, Ieiri-san. My son will follow in his father’s footsteps and take over the family businesses, as expected of him as an heir. Nothing more and nothing less.”

Satoru kept a neutral expression, but his jaw tightened. The discomfort and resentment he felt at his mother’s words made his stomach hurt with heartburn.

“Have you at least asked me what I want to do, Mother?” He spurted, glaring at her with icy blue eyes.

Kaede didn’t bother to look at her son. She just sliced a piece of her medium rare Kobe steak and brought it to her mouth ever so neatly, taking her time to swallow and reply with cool detachment. “What you want is not a concern, my dear, but what you need to do to honor your father’s legacy and maintain the Gojo family coffers. I’m sure you are mature enough to understand that.”

The woman took her time to take another bite, casting a slightly smoldering look at Dr. Ieiri that was reciprocated with a subtle wink as the man took a sip of his cup of wine, something that Satoru totally overlooked while leaning back in his chair as though physically retreating from his mother’s words, exhaling sharply.

The issue stressed him out so deeply that he decided he would just let them be instead of arguing back.

“In that case, Gojo-san, I’m sure you have already thought about training this young man for that from now on, am I mistaken?”

“By no means. Indeed, Satoru will attend the Economy summer camp of Gakushuin University next year and, as soon as he starts his second year, he’ll come with me at times to learn from executive meetings and management tasks.”

Shuhei chuckled softly, without any attempts to defuse the tension between a mother and her son. “As expected of you, Gojo-san, it seems that you have it all planned.”

“Pragmatism is a virtue, Ieiri-san. And I assume you aim to do the same for our beloved Shoko-san.”

“Certainly,” the man’s voice was as clinical and cold as if delivering a diagnosis. “My daughter is destined to become a respectable and unexceptionable physician, just like myself, my father and those before us. She will lead the family hospital one day, for it’s in her blood. Choice for her is not an option.”

Kaede laughed lightly, but it felt hollow and melodic, as if amused by the concept of a youngster’s free will. Shuhei joined her with the faintest smirk, so warmthless and apathetic that it made Satoru shift uncomfortably on his seat.

“Just thinking of what could have become of your daughter if you hadn’t retained custody..." Kaede averted her gaze momentarily, a subtle grimace of disgust flashing across the otherwise composed expression of her face.

“Oh, our poor girl,” she continued. “Better not to think about it.” The barefaced sincerity she spoke with drew her son’s attention. But the woman wasted no time disappointing him yet again with her next statement: “Her life would have gone to waste if she had followed the path of someone as unpleasant as her mother. You should feel relieved that she left for America and never came back for Shoko-san.”

Satoru rolled his eyes. Of course, his mother’s concern had nothing to do with his friend’s well-being. The only emotion this woman could muster in her hollow heart was disdain for any way of life she deemed beneath her.

No matter how well-off Shoko’s mother’s family was, Erikawa Rena’s bustling and insouciant nightlife would always be disreputable for someone like Gojo Kaede.

As for the doctor, his face hardened with a stone-like expression, speaking flatly. “Raising a child as an only parent is a challenge. We must do what’s better for them.” He took a sip of his wine.

“Like giving her permission to host a birthday party in your absence?” The woman looked at him above the border of her Bordeaux glass.

Dr. Ieiri smiled, though his eyes remained cold. “I’m not fond of teen parties, Gojo-san. Besides, I have responsibilities—like yourself, I’m not one to waste time on a child’s frivolities.”

The woman leaned back gracefully, swirling her wine.

“You could have left it to me, Ieiri-san. We’ve known each other for long enough to know what’s better for your daughter, who, for a change, is like a daughter to me. She and Satoru are like siblings, and I know plenty of party planners who could arrange her celebration, just like I’ll do with Satoru’s.”

“You’ll do what ?” The boy’s head snapped up at his mother’s words, breaking his own decision of not meddling in the adults’ exchange as his discomfort grew immediately.

“I’m planning a grand gala for your birthday. And no ‘buts’ are allowed here, darling. I already contacted performers, chefs and florists from the finest establishments in Kyoto and Osaka. Oh, and perhaps we can arrange for that band you enjoyed when we visited London last year for your summer camp?” Her brows knitted as she tried to recall the name, but she quickly dismissed the thought. “Whatever it is, I won’t mind if you want it for your reception. What’s your opinion on this, Ieiri-san?”

The man’s lips curled into a subtly sardonic smile, and choosing to leave aside Kaede’s remark about his daughter’s upbringing, he finished his dish and beckoned the waiter for his glass of wine to be refilled. “I can only imagine it will be quite the spectacle, Gojo-san. Provided, of course, you can restrain yourself from turning it into a business conference.”

“By all means.” Kaede’s gaze sharpened. “The event must reflect everything we are as a family. My son is transitioning into young adulthood, and it’s quite important that our associates see him in his rightful place. Press, media, everyone. There will be no doubt that he’s the heir of the family, and in a very few years he will take control of all that is rightfully his.”

“Sounds more like a shareholders’ meeting than a birthday party,” Satoru muttered under his breath, earning a sharp glare from his mother.

Her eyes flickered with irritation, but she always knew how to keep her unshakable comportment. “You are free to call it as you please, dear. But it’s already decided. Everything will be astounding to amaze our selective guests, the Ieiri family included, without a doubt.”

“Selective? So you mean I won’t even be able to invite the people I want to, Mother?”

“I would love to agree with you, my son, but how cruel of your mother would be to restrain you from inviting your friends, wouldn’t it? Though I’d love to keep people like Geto-san away, but that’s just something I know it’s out of my reach.”

Disdain crossed swiftly Dr. Ieiri’s face at the name’s mention, but Satoru, as outraged as he was, didn’t notice it.

“How can you speak of him like that? He’s my best friend! And he’ll be there whether you like it or not!”

Disregarding her son’s resentment, Kaede finished her meal, leaving the cutlery aside to drink another sip of her wine until she was satisfied.

“Unfortunately for me. But as long as he behaves and dresses as expected, I suppose everything will be fine.”

“I don’t want any fucking party if my friends are not there. Besides, I don’t wanna have a celebration where I need to act like a damn trophy instead of having fun.”

“It’s time you learn that certain sacrifices must be made for the greater good of the family, my child. Not everything is about playing sports after school and going out with friends on weekends. But I’ll make sure that you’ll have fun at your own celebration.”

“Of course, Mother. Because standing around in a suit, shaking hands with people I don’t like, and being paraded like a prized show horse screams celebration , doesn’t it?”

Satoru’s voice came out with restrained sarcasm and bubbling rage. He could already imagine the sea of unpleasant adults, an endless thread of small talk, and the blatant networking disguised as his birthday party.

“Your tone is unappreciated, my child, but I’ll ensure you enjoy yourself despite the protests. Undoubtedly, this event is not for you only, but for the family’s future and your own as well.”

That was it. It was her final word. Satoru sighed, turning his gaze toward the horizon beyond the dining terrace. The sprawling golf course stretched before his eyes endlessly, but he still felt suffocated.

He knew it. He knew before she mentioned it that this wasn’t going to be about him. 

It was all about Gojo Kaede and her insatiable ambition and need to project the family’s power and wealth to the entire world. He hated her influence, and how she embodied the traditions he despised but couldn’t escape.

All his wealth, his family name, and the duties he would have to perform in the near future felt like stifling him, like a burden he never asked to bear.

“Sorry, I got distracted with a girl asking for something in the corridor…” Shoko returned to the table just in time to catch the tense atmosphere.  “Well, this looks… lively.”

She raised an eyebrow at her friend, who shook his head subtly, signaling her not to ask. Instead, he stood up, wiping his mouth with a napkin and leaving it on the table.

“Whatever. I’m off for a tennis match. Wanna come?” His voice felt forced in his attempt to break free from the oppressive company of the adults.

“Yeah, sure.” Shoko answered after looking at her father for permission and seeing his approval nod.

The youngsters left, with the only intention of escaping the smothering atmosphere of expectations and control that loomed over them, especially Satoru. But not even the tennis match would be enough to shake off the weight he had felt earlier.

Yet Shoko remained by his side, knowing that, whatever came his way, he would always find a way to rise over it.

Even his own mother’s whims.

Utahime needed to gather a huge amount of courage to go to school the next week.

She could feel Gojo’s pervasive presence all around, even before setting foot on campus. Everything about Shoko’s words and the events of last weekend weighed on her, unable to shake the embarrassing moment from her mind. She had tried to focus on her school assignments, on her duties at work, and even on her mother’s voice as she yelled at her, her intoxicated breath fanning over. But none of it had really worked.

It all replayed in her mind over and over again like a disease, infecting every thought she had, no matter how hard she tried to push it all away. She clutched her bag tightly as she made her way through the school gates, cheeks flushed as she shook her head furiously, as if she could dispel all images of him from her memory.

Her eyes darted around the schoolyard, scanning swiftly for a mop of white hair or the distant glint of his round sunglasses in hopes to avoid him, to slip through the day unnoticed. But that was wishful thinking, because Gojo Satoru was Gojo Satoru, and he didn’t just blend into the background.

After all, he was the sun—bright, bold, and utterly inescapable.

Relief washed over her when she didn’t immediately spot him, letting go of her worries in a long sigh. Perhaps, just perhaps, she could get through this day without incident.

But she had counted her chickens way before they could hatch.

Her feet tripped over a black polished shoe, making her stumble. She was sure her face would crash against the ground if not for the hands that grabbed her shoulders and pushed her up, keeping her from falling.

“Oh, be careful, senpai.”

Her heart sank at the sound of the familiar voice over her head. She looked up slowly, plastering on what she hoped was a neutral expression, only to see Gojo grinning at her, his hands finally letting go of her shoulders as soon as she stood straight.

She tried hard to ignore the ghost of his touch that tickled on her skin when he let go of her.

“Just my luck,” she grumbled, keeping herself from blushing and dreading whatever teasing remark he had lined up. For some odd and unknown reason, Gojo held his schoolbag up in the air with one hand in front of her, but she ignored it.

“You weren’t avoiding me, were you?” He asked, a little too close for comfort.

Utahime gulped when he leaned in slightly, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose to reveal those piercing blue eyes that made her feel trapped.

This damn beanpole...

Didn’t this guy have any shame?

“Wha—Why would I avoid you, Gojo?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because of what happened last weekend?”

Her face went scarlet in an instant. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She stammered. But all she got as an answer was a lopsided smile that widened on his face, clearly enjoying her flustered state.

He crossed his arms and leaned back, still blocking her path to her classroom—his presence feeling as overwhelming as ever. “Oh, wanna play dumb, Hime? You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t!” She tried to keep her voice steady in spite of her huff, but her crimson cheeks were her biggest enemy.

Satoru tilted his head, mockingly thoughtful.

The idiot was really enjoying this.

“For real? Because I seem to recall a certain someone barging into a room without knocking. Ring any bells? You’re a pervert, senpai.”

Utahime’s eyes darted around, desperate for an escape route. “I’m not a pervert! It wasn’t my fault. I was just running after Mochi and you didn’t even dare to lock—ugh. You know what? Nevermind. Can’t we just pretend it never happened?”

Her heart skipped a beat when Gojo’s smirk turned mischievous.

“Hmm, sounds like a fair deal…”

“Wait…” She blinked. Deep down, she knew that his sudden agreement was too good to be true. “Really?”

“Sure.” He shrugged casually. “But…”

Oh, goodness…

There it was. She knew there had to be a catch. “But?”

He leaned in so close now that she could feel his minty breath on her face, his grin downright devilish now. “I’ll forget all about it if you carry my bag to class every day for two full weeks.”

Seemed like he didn’t have any knowledge of the concept of personal space either.

She blinked, staring at him dumbfounded. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“Oh, Hime, I thought you knew me well enough to know when I’m being serious or not. And right now, I am,” he replied, his voice annoyingly overconfident.

“I’m not your monkey butler to carry your stupid bag. You can do it yourself!” The girl snapped, crossing her arms.

“Of course I could.” Satoru pushed his sunglasses back and smirked. “But then again…”

Her jaw tightened as he let the implication hang in the air. “You wouldn’t…”

“Try me.”

She ground her teeth, her hands balling into fists. “Gojo, you’re the worst. You know that?”

“Yup. So, deal?” He was so cheerful that she had to resist the urge to punch him in the guts.

Utahime glared at him for a long moment, torn between just walking away and pretending this conversation never happened or letting him have his way and avoid future mishaps. But the way he raised an eyebrow, clearly confident he had her cornered, made her understand she had no choice.

“Fine,” she groaned. “BUT only for two weeks.”

“A promise is a promise, and I’m a man of his word.” He extended his hand as if signing some formal agreement. But she ignored it, snatching his bag off his arm and shouldering it, discovering that it was lighter than she expected.

“Happy now?”

“Ecstatic, indeed.” His grin grew wider as he watched her storm off toward his classroom block, following her like a happy pup.

Every day from now on, as long as their agreement lasted, she would find herself begrudgingly carrying his backpack, cursing under her breath every time she did. And every single day, Gojo would wait for her at 7:50 behind the school gates, just making sure to remind her of their deal with an infuriating grin that would only make her want to punch his guts and leave him breathless, even when she inwardly thanked for his teasing and playfulness, for it provided a comfort in their relationship that somehow kept forbidden feelings at bay, right where they should stay.

Yet what bothered her the most wasn’t his brazenness nor his smugness.

It was the way her heart raced whenever she caught him watching her during breaktime, his blue eyes sparkling with that signature brightness that somehow made her chest feel tight every time.

It was the way he smiled whenever she was around, and the warmth that radiated off his body whenever he was close, and the way their hands brushed when she gave the bag back to him.

It was the way her heart didn’t pound from fear or annoyance anymore.

It was something else entirely.

And she was really afraid to name it, even when Shoko had already done that.

Trying to act the same as ever around Utahime felt like an excruciating ordeal.

Every time she was near, his coolness wavered, and all the thoughts he tried to bury so diligently resurfaced with unabashed clarity. Everything about her—her voice, her eyes, her expressions, and even the smallest movements she made seemed to draw him irrevocably to each fiber of her being.

Late November painted the campus in amber and gray tones, the early winter air feeling sharp against the warm glow of the cafeteria lights. Satoru stepped inside after his Wednesday baseball practice, scanning the room with lazy disinterest as he headed for the vending machines in search of a snack to ease his growling stomach. He went for a bottle of hot chocolate from one and two bags of chicken and cheese waffles from the other, yawning in the meantime—until he spotted her.

She was sitting alone at one of the tables with a book open in front of her, probably making the most of the time after classes when almost everyone went home, leaving the school empty. Her hand tapped a pencil against the wooden surface, her brows furrowed in frustration as she flipped a page, only to flip back again moments later.

Satoru hesitated for a second before pulling another bottle of chocolate from the machine and striding toward her. It wasn’t like he could just pass by and ignore her, much less when she was there, sitting under the cafeteria lights that surrounded her like a halo, oblivious to how her concentration made her even more captivating.

Stealthily, he slid into the seat beside her. “Senpai!”

Utahime jumped in her seat, startled out of her focus and dropping her book with a soft scream as he left the snacks on the table. “Goj—Goddammit! You little… Don’t you dare doing that again!” She sighed, a hand on her chest as she composed herself.

Satoru snorted, amused by her frightened state, his chin onto his hand, leaning toward her. “Heh, you’re a weakling.” He grinned easily, tilting his sunglasses down to peer at her over the rim when she picked up her book. She looked baggy-eyed this afternoon, something he didn't notice earlier in the morning. “Just figured you might want some company and use some help, since you’ve been glaring at that book like it owes you money.”

She huffed, making a face, though there was no real malice in it. “Gojo, you can’t just come to people and scare the hell out of them as if nothing. It’s not nice.”

“Oh! So you’re rearranging square root equations!” There it was: that innate ability of his to switch gears that got her on her nerves. “Let me see. What’s the matter with this?” He leaned closer while glancing at her textbook.

“I—It’s just this stupid formula. It’s not clicking, and I’ve been stuck at it for hours.” Her explanation made him knit his brows as he analyzed the exercise, slipping her part of the snacks he had brought.

“By the way, you can eat those, since I guess you haven’t eaten shit since lunch, right?”

With a hint of amazement in her voice, Utahime breathed. “Thank you…”

“How come someone so smart like you can’t understand something so easy? This equation is a cinch!” He took her pencil, ready to start scribbling in her notebook.

“And how are you supposed to help me when you’re just a freshman?” She retorted.

“Hey, I’m a genius; don’t forget it. A square root equation is kid stuff for me. Just tell me what you don’t understand.”

Hesitating, the girl scowled, but she spoke anyway. “This makes no sense at all to me. How am I supposed to get rid of the square root when it’s buried under all this?”

Satoru could sense her frustration bubbling up in the way she pouted, as if the equation was mocking at her for her unusual inability to crack it. He smiled, unconsciously entranced by the way she frowned deeply at her book.

“Okay, one step at time. Let’s tackle this beast by isolating the square root first. You should have started with that.” He pointed to a 5, watching her scribble furiously to subtract the number.

“Fine. Isolated. Now what?”

“Now you square both sides,” he said, motioning a drawn square in the air. Unexpectedly for her, he started eating his snacks right after.

Utahime stared at him, her pen hovering. “Wait. Wouldn’t squaring them cancel it out?”

“Of course.” He munched on his waffles, pointing at another number. “We need to square the root to bring the number back to its original state. Trust me. It works. Just math magic.”

Without protesting, she wrote down the new equation. “Still, this looks a little bit absurd.”

“Nah. Think of it like this: we’re just unwrapping a gift or cleaning up a room. Like we can’t get to the floor until we pick up all the junk on top.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever cleaned a room in your life, Gojo Satoru.”

“Hey, focus!” He nudged her notebook, ignoring her pointed look. “Try this one.”

He kept giving her instructions, guiding her through every step with noteworthy patience and an ease that surprised even him. He wasn’t aware of the way she stared at him when he took his glasses off for a better view, revealing his striking blue eyes, or how she shivered every time his shoulder brushed hers as he moved his arms energetically to explain something new.

“So now I just divide both sides by two to solve for x, which is four point five, right?” She said slowly, with her pen scratching on the paper.

“Bingo!” Satoru leaned back with a triumphant grin, his snacks long finished, watching her set her pen down with a long sigh. “Now you’re not only a Scream Queen, but the Square Root Equation Queen too.”

Utahime frowned, shooting him a sidelong glance. “Shut up, and don’t call me that. How do you know all this being just a first-year?”

“I’m a genius, remember? Numbers are my thing.” He smirked. “See why I get bored so easily during classes? I already know all this.”

“So you’re a nerd.” She started drawing the equation graphics with quick doodles she would perfect once at home.

“Yeah, just like you. But don’t say that in public.” For the first time, he managed to tear a smile off her lips that made his heart do a strange flip and he swiftly brushed off before his heart could riot.

“You shouldn’t be this good at explaining things.” She muttered, finishing the graphic and closing her notebook with a sharp snap. Mindlessly, she grabbed the waffles bag and opened it, making her stomach feel thankful after a while.

“You’re just mad I explained it better than anyone could. But hey, don’t be shy about praising your favorite kohai. Flattering works with me.” His teasing carried an air of superiority that made her growl.

“Could you be a little humbler, Gojo?”

“Nuh-uh. I’m perfectly fine like this. Now, ready for another equation?”

“Absolutely not. I’ll do the rest on my own. But thanks for your help.” Utahime took a sip of her hot chocolate bottle, so thirsty and hungry that she tried hard not to gulp it all down.

“Anyways, you should be the one tutoring me. You’re the senpai, and someday you’ll be a teacher too.”

“I’m sorry. I—I don’t know why I couldn’t resolve this by myself. This is the first time it happens to me.”

“It’s okay. I know you’re smart. You got it in less than ten minutes.”

“Maybe… You aren’t such a brat after all.” She smiled softly, oblivious to the way his heart thumped terribly hard.

But before the air between them could grow too heavy with the weight of their unrevealed sentiments and hidden emotions, Satoru leaned forward with another one of his teasing grins. It was their safe space, the line they drew between them to keep each other from feeling more than they really should.

“You know, Hime, you’re kind of cute when you’re all serious and studious like this.”

“Shut up, Gojo!” She narrowed her eyes, cheeks tinged with a deep pink.

“Make me.” His smirk widened.

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here I am, helping you,” Satoru shot back.

Utahime shook her head, sighing. “And impossible.”

“Maybe.” He chuckled. “I have a terrible personality, but hey, I’m still the life and soul of the party. And speaking of parties..." Then, recalling it just by chance, he started looking for something inside his right pocket: a small white card that he handed her, with her name written on it in flawlessly calligraphed kanji characters. “You’re coming to mine, right?”

“What?” She blinked, caught off guard. Utahime opened the card and read it mentally—it was a beautiful invitation to his birthday. The second one in a month, this one more sophisticated than Shoko’s.

“Yeah. I’ll turn seventeen on December seven. It’s gonna be a big event. My mom wants it to be huge .” Satoru rolled his eyes, leaning back in his spot and looking suddenly sullen, something she noticed. “Not that I care, but I want you—I mean, my friends—to be there. What do you say?”

"I... I don’t know.” She hesitated, biting on her lower lip.

Here it came again. The downpour of thoughts about her lack of money and all the expenses she needed to make for something like this.

“Oh, come on.” His tone was light, but his eyes looked oddly sincere. “What’s the worst that could happen? You might even have fun.”

“Doubtful.” She muttered, shutting her mind up when her lips quirked up in a small smile.

Satoru stared at her, mirroring her expression, his temple resting on his fist. They stayed like that for a moment, unuttered words swelling between them like suspended in time, with Satoru’s usually sharp tongue faltering in the presence of her gentle and soft beam. Utahime, too, found herself caught in the electric undercurrent of his charm, her heart thudding painfully inside her chest, the whole world fading into insignificance...

And then the fragile bubble shattered under the sound of a loud, sudden voice.

“Ahem.”

It made them jolt, blinking rapidly as if waking from a dream. Principal Yaga stood a few feet away, arms crossed and eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Satoru, Utahime, it’s getting dark. What are you two still doing here? You should be in your respective homes already.” His tone was so severe it left no room for mischief.

“Oh, gakucho,” Satoru greeted him, as Utahime scrambled to gather her belongings before bowing low in apology. The boy hissed, taking a quick look at his Citizen wristwatch. “We didn’t see the hour. Utahime-senpai had trouble with some exercises and I was... helping her.”

Yaga kept glaring at him like a hawk tracking pray, pondering on the boy’s explanation. But he finally took a step aside to let them go out, once he saw them standing up.

“Fine. Now go. It’s too late to be at school.”

They bid their farewells and once outside, Utahime exhaled, clutching her bag against her shoulder. “I thought he was going to punish us.”

Satoru, of course, seized the chance to lighten the mood. “Well, we didn’t get detention. I’d call it a win.”

“I’ve never been in the detention room, and I don’t plan to.” She turned to leave. “Anyways, I’ll head home now. See you, Gojo. And thanks for helping me—”

“Not so fast!”

He snatched her bag clean off her shoulder in one swift motion and took off down the pathway.

“Gojo!” The girl yelled, sprinting after him. “I’m going home, you overgrown toddler. Give it back now!”

His pace quickened, glancing back with a mischievous grin. “Catch me if you can, shorty!”

“Gojo! Come back here!”

“Come with me to pick up Mochi, and we’ll have ice cream after that! My treat!”

“No way I’m going to do that with you!”

For several chaotic minutes, Utahime chased him beyond the school gates, crossing streets and shouting threats that were as ineffective as her attempts to kick his butt whenever she got close. By the time she thought she was going to corner him, he got into a taxi cab, prompting her to do the same and closing the door behind her once inside. Her breath was ragged, and her glare could have melted steel.

“Here, here.” He handed over her bag with mock surrender, laughing breathlessly. “Man, what are you carrying there? Bricks? Why are women’s bags always so heavy?”

“You’re lucky I didn’t have a brick to beat you with.” She grumbled, snatching her bag from him and slinging it back over her shoulder. “Gojo, I gotta go home. Where are we going?”

“I told you we’re going to pick up our son. After that, we’ll have ice cream and only then I’ll walk you home.”

Satoru noticed the way the driver quirked a brow at them through the rearview mirror when he said the word ‘son’, but he just chuckled at it, focused on Utahime.

The girl’s glare softened, but only a bit. “Why would I—Gojo, just take me home.”

“No buts.” His voice was stern now. “You can’t say no to your son and free ice cream, Utahime.”

And somehow, he was right. For some unknown reason, the authoritative tone of his voice caused something in her she couldn’t describe. Something that tore a gasp out of her lungs and left her speechless.

Something that left her insides burning, just like the sensation she experienced low in her core after seeing him...

She avoided looking at him for the rest of the ride until they made it to the dog daycare to get Mochi, wandering to a small, cozy ice cream parlor afterward, tucked into a quieter part of Tokyo, near Utahime’s neighborhood. Satoru convinced her to try an elaborate parfait topped with fruit and syrup, while the girl hesitantly agreed; her initial protests lost to the indulgence of a first bite that made him grin triumphantly, although she was not fond of sweets.

Mochi, of course, had his part, too.

“My, my, you got no sense of adventure,” he teased, eating a spoonful of a vibrant purple ice cream ball.

“And you got no self-control.” She shot back, but she was far from being mad at him.

The evening had deepened by the time they strolled back toward her home, streets growing quieter and city lights shining brighter. Mochi trotted happily by their side, his tail wagging with delight as they occasionally petted him. Utahime found herself smiling at him more times than she could admit, and when they reached her doorstep, Satoru just stood there, scratching the back of his head.

“Well, this was fun, wasn’t it?” He gave her a soft grin that warmed her insides.

“Yeah…”

“Is your mom home? I wanna make sure she doesn’t mess with you just because I came with you.”

“Don’t worry. She’s not home now. I’ll be okay.”

“Good… See you at school.” His voice was lighter, his eyes searching for hers and lingering a little more than usual.

Utahime opened the door and nodded before stepping inside. “Good night, Mochi.” The pup answered with a small lick on her hand, and the girl’s eyes finally drifted to the boy’s, already waiting for her impatiently. “Good night, Gojo.”

“Night, Hime.”

From the window of her bedroom, she caught a glimpse of white hair walking away, with an equally thick mop of white fur prancing beside him.

Satoru smiled while heading to the Sanya taxi stand, his heart full and content as he thought of the girl with the stars in her eyes. But as he turned down the street, another thought struck him like a shadow under the moon that lit his steps:

She never told him if she was coming to his party.

The truth was, Utahime would never give him an answer.

When that day finally arrived, Satoru felt anything but excited.

The Gojo estate was a mere display of opulence that left the main hall with nothing to envy about the Imperial Palace rooms, the decoration and arrangement being an intimate performance of hedonism. The sophisticated L-shaped buffet with fountains of flowing wine and beverages for the youngest ones looked like it was plucked from a fairytale, loaded with a cornucopia of lavish food like delicious canapes with boiled shrimp and octopus, and trays filled with lobster that waited for dinertime to please the guests, all of it with the sole purpose of flaunting the Gojo family’s wealth.

Neatly kitted-out waiters weaved through the sea of unfamiliar faces carrying trays of the most expensive champagne and non-alcoholic drinks for teenagers, while soft, lifeless lounge music drifted from a quartet stationed near the staircase, acting as the background noise for the carefully curated conversations of guests whose main virtue was to act falsely to each other.

Renowned chefs had been hired to curate the evening’s posh feast, and the youngest guests buzzed with excitement about the upcoming performance by none other than Utada Hikaru herself, who agreed to serenade the birthday boy in lieu of the British band that Gojo Kaede had unsuccessfully tried to secure. Prominent journalists roamed among the attendees, capturing moments here and there, and a few paparazzi waited beyond the gates of the Gojo estate, eager to catch the faintest glimpse of the event. By morning, the sensationalist headlines would no doubt herald it as the Gojo heir’s party of the year.

Satoru moved through the crowd, his charming smile masking his disinterest—every greeting, every bow and every handshake a calculated move to avoid the sharp, disapproving glances his mother could cast across the room.

The crowd was an overwhelming mix of elegantly dressed strangers, each one more eager than the other to impress their peers, all dripping in expensive jewelry and wielding practiced smiles, exchanging tales of exclusive vacations and ventures most people could never dream of. A small group of adults and teens as well indulged in the casino games Mrs. Gojo had arranged as entertainment.

He vaguely recognized a few faces, aside from his classmates, their families and his own relatives—business associates, politicians and many potential foreign investors—but even they seemed insignificant in the vast ocean of visitors.

Without a shadow of doubt, this wasn’t his party.

It was his mother’s.

Once he was done with the greetings, he leaned against massive glass doors that opened onto the garden, near the buffet. He swiped a pair of Gruyere-and-crab palmiers to engulf them in one bite, finally finding his only two islands of familiarity and calm in this suffocating sea of strangers.

“Guys, thanks for being here.” He said, his tone more genuine than usual.

Shoko was drinking a fancy version of cream soda through a straw, and Suguru nibbled on a shrimp canape. Both of them were dressed sharply, though it was clear that Suguru felt kind of uncomfortable in his attire, not being used to wearing formal clothes most of the time.

The black-haired boy nodded at his friend’s words, patting his shoulder affectionately. “Of course we are. But you know your mom doesn’t want me here, right?”

Satoru shrugged, with a small smirk playing on his lips. “When do I ever care what she wants? Let’s go against the old lady’s whims as much as we can. But hey, you two look good.” He stated, winking at them. Shoko laughed, and Suguru winced.

“And you look like a prince,” the girl replied with honesty. “I wonder which designer your mom hired to make such a dress because if she wanted you to outshine the Prime Minister’s son, she succeeded pretty well.”

Satoru smiled, almost blushing at his friend’s compliment. But his attention was drawn by Suguru’s face, who made him snort.

“Well, thank you, Shoko. But I guess Suguru is not feeling my royal vibe.”

“No, man. It’s me. I feel like a fucking penguin.”

“Nah, you look adorable.” The girl bit her lower lip, stepping on her tiptoes to whisper something to his ear after making sure her dad wasn’t looking. Whatever she said made her boyfriend’s lips curl in a wicked smile, though Satoru caught none of it.

“Hey, cut it out and don’t be nasty here. If you two wanna fuck, wait until this shit is over.” The white-haired boy called them out, making Suguru chuckle.

“Hey!” Shoko gasped, her usual cool slipping as she smacked her friend’s arm. “Don’t say that. My dad could come and hear us.”

“Chill. Your dad and my mom are too busy talking to the minister to care about us.”

“Fuck, I’m glad my parents didn’t want to come. They would feel so uncomfortable here.” Suguru pointed out, swallowing half of his soda glass.

Shoko hovered around the wine fountain, looking for a cup of wine she wasn’t supposed to have. “Hey, what about Utahime-senpai? Isn’t she supposed to come too?”

At the mention of her name, Satoru’s playful expression dropped, his hands finding the inner pockets of his dark suit cape.

“I don’t really think she’s coming, he replied. And the words tasted bitter in his tongue.

“But I thought—” Shoko chirped in. “I mean, we…” She stayed silent, as if afraid of saying too much.

But Satoru said no more, and the trio felt into a brief silence until he wanted to eat again, and his friends followed suit.

Satoru preferred moments like this—simple and unguarded, with his two friends by his side. Only Suguru and Shoko could make him feel at ease—the only ones who didn’t expect something from him or forced him to push his limits. Only with them he could drop the facade, even if just a little.

Outside the crowd’s vigilant eyes, he could be Satoru. Not the heir, not the Gojo, not the playboy.

Only Satoru.

And he would always be grateful for that.

Straightening, he forced a grin onto his lips, calling them with a head nod. “Let’s sneak out to the garden. I’m done pretending.”

Shoko chuckled beside him, looking taller in her designer high heels. “Lead the way, birthday boy.”

“By the way, where is your furry sidekick?” Suguru asked behind Satoru, watching him answer as they walked.

“I left him at the daycare today. Too many people for his own good. Gonna pick him up tomorrow.”

And they both followed him silently, leaving the chatter, the clinking glasses and the players’ laughter behind. But Satoru couldn’t help glancing once more toward the grand entrance, still hoping to see the girl of his dreams walking through those doors.

An hour more passed, and the longed-for performance of Utada Hikaru took place, offering an effortlessly brilliant show. After three songs delivered with a heartfelt rendition, the room erupted in applause. She personally congratulated the Gojo heir for turning 17 years old as the cameras flashed around them, ensuring this moment would be immortalized in society columns, jet-set magazines and celebrity blogs alike.

But Satoru’s restlessness grew wider when it was time for Suguru to leave—he had promised his parents to get home early—and Shoko was drawn by her father into a conversation with important acquaintances, leaving him alone again. Everyone wanted to be next to him, but it always felt phoney—the forced smiles, the endless small talk, and the suffocating formality were all too much for him to bear.

“Feeling overwhelmed, Gojo-kun?”

The sound of the familiar voice made Satoru turn his head. He knew she was coming—her father being a special guest of his mother—but no matter how outstanding Mei’s presence always was, he had no interest in spending his time with others other than his two best friends.

“Overwhelmed? Me?” There he was, playing it cool again. “I'm like a fish in the water.”

The girl giggled, with that elegant and hollow demeanor that reminded him of his mother and almost made him cringe. “And absolutely handsome. Seeing you without sunglasses is always a delight. Reminds me of good times.” Her words undoubtedly made him catch the innuendo. “No wonder why every girl here is dying to be by your side.”

“Who cares? They're all silly girls.”

“Don't worry. I know you like us older.” Her remark was followed by a wicked little laugh, her perfectly polished nails drumming on the glass she was holding. Being almost 19 years old wasn't a proper age for drinking wine, but Mei was known for always getting her way somehow.

And her father didn't seem to mind.

“C’mon, you came all the way here to talk about that?”

“I wish I did, but no,” Mei said, slipping a velvety envelope out of her Cartier purse with inborn elegance. She handed it to Satoru with a motion of her wrist and he took it with one hand—a gesture entirely devoid of the modesty expected among Japanese people. “Since my daddy’s favorite gifts are experiences rather than easily forgotten objects, this is our present to you. Use it whenever you like, pretty boy. The doors of our cruise ships are always opened for you.”

Satoru took a quick look at the content of the envelope: a full-month pass for one of Mei's father’s cruise ships, valid for him and one companion. The pass had no expiration date, meaning that he could redeem it at any point in his life he deemed appropriate.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been on a cruise ship before, but coming from Taira Aoki and all of Mei’s relatives, this gift carried extra weight, being both remarkable and unexpected. And, knowing Taira-san as well as Satoru did, it was likely a precursor to a favor he’d soon ask of Gojo Kaede.

Nothing in their world was ever given for free. Every gesture had a price, and every action was a calculated move on a giant chessboard.

“Oh, thank you. This will be great as a graduation celebration. Please pass on my gratitude to your father,” he said, keeping his tone polite.

Mei raised a brow, smirking. “Why so formal, Gojo-kun? We don’t usually bother with keigo between us.”

Satoru snorted, rolling his eyes. “Thank you again, Mei-san.”

She giggled, as if mocking the distance he was setting between them. With a teasing glint in her eye, she stepped closer and cupped his face with a hand, leaving a soft trace of her lipstick at the corner of his lips for a farewell.

Satoru froze briefly, his expression turning cold as she pulled away. Mei sashayed off, her hips swaying with smug satisfaction. Once he lost sight of the silver-haired girl, he wiped his mouth, erasing any traces of her that her purple-red lipstick could have left.

Catching a crack in the wide span of his mother’s and the guests’ attention, he slipped away unnoticed, making his way to the rooftop overlook of his house. Once there, he dropped his cape near the bench he used to sit on, leaning against the railing to let the wintry air hit his face as he gazed out at a snowless Tokyo skyline, allowing himself to breathe in the absence of the noise of a party he never really asked for.

Out of place.

It was what Utahime felt like when she stepped into the Gojo estate after arriving in a cab. Their opulence was overwhelming, as if entering an entirely different world—towering ceilings, foreign wood and chandeliers made of enough crystal to fund a small country. The people were even more intimidating—some of them faces she had only seen on TV or magazines.

And then there was her, wearing an expensive silky, beautiful pink gala dress that Shoko had given her while insisting that she should go to Gojo’s party, guessing that her friend had nothing to wear for the occasion. And she couldn’t say no. Not after witnessing the enthusiasm in Shoko’s eyes when making her wear the dress she had never worn—Shoko didn’t really like pink—and discovering that her senpai looked really stunning and adorable in it, so it was better to give it to her rather than leave it to rot in her huge wardrobe.

Even her tiny gilded earrings and shoes were a gift from her best friend for this event, but she couldn’t have it any other way.

She clutched a beautifully wrapped box that seemed to have no designated place. She searched for a table or gift station, finding nothing in the end and making her feel increasingly in the wrong place, unable to just leave it on a random surface when it was something she had made so carefully.

After two eternal minutes, Shoko spotted her, hurrying over to meet her senpai and give a wave of relief to the distress in her expression. The youngest girl, ever perceptive, immediately noticed how cute and radiant Utahime looked in the dress—the soft pastel fabric complementing the subtle makeup that made her look more refined and highlighted her natural beauty.

“Senpai, you look stunning.” Shoko’s warmth somehow broke the ice around as she greeted her. “This suits you perfectly. I told you so.”

Shifting the box in her arms, Utahime smiled shyly. “T—Thanks. I wasn’t sure if it was too much, but…”

“Not at all. You look gorgeous!” Her friend assured her, noticing the box. “For him?”

The oldest girl nodded. “I don’t know where to put it, though.”

Shoko chuckled, taking pity on her friend. “Don’t worry about that. I saw him go upstairs, and I’m sure he’ll appreciate it if you give it to him personally.”

Utahime hesitated. “You think so?”

“Absolutely!” She grinned in response. “C’mon. I’ll show you the way.”

Leaving the hall behind, Shoko led their way to the second floor, her first guess being Satoru’s bedroom. Utahime stifled a gasp as they peeked inside, taking in the warm and memorable image of his sleeping chambers and their surroundings, etching them into her mind.

But he wasn’t there, and after checking every room of the second floor, Shoko snapped her fingers as realization struck. She guided Utahime further without missing a beat, climbing another flight of stairs and spotting a mop of messy white hair rising above the large flowerpots visible through the glass walls of the rooftop.

She turned to Utahime with a knowing smile. “He’s there. Go on.”

“But, do you think he—?”

“Go on!” Shoko whined in a whisper, pushing her to the entrance. She rushed to go back to the reunion, leaving her to face him alone, finding Kaede’s sharp gaze piercing her conscience as soon as she stepped into the hall.

“Shoko-san?” The elegant woman frowned slightly. It was obvious her curiosity had been piqued.

“Yes?”

“Who is the girl I saw you a few minutes ago with?” Her tone was clipped but inquisitive.

Well, at least the woman didn’t seem to have any knowledge of her friend’s whereabouts now.

“Oh.” Shoko turned, keeping her composure. “She’s a classmate of ours. A friend.”

Gojo Kaede’s suspicion didn’t fade entirely. There was something about this child that seemed different—too unfamiliar, too out of place in this carefully curated crowd, in spite of her sleek garment and sober beauty. “I’ve never seen her before. Who are her parents?”

Much to Shoko’s relief, a high-ranking minister approached the woman, drawing her attention away before she could launch into a series of probing and cumbersome questions.

Not that she had any intentions to hide Utahime’s origins and upbringing out of shame, but having that conversation with someone like Gojo Kaede didn’t seem like something any human being wanted to go through.

Seizing the moment, Shoko made her escape to her father, sighing quietly as she thanked heavens for that stroke of luck, asking all the gods above that the thought of going to the rooftop never crossed Gojo’s mother’s mind.

But it wasn’t likely. At the same time, Utahime clutched the box tightly as she stepped onto the overlook. She shivered at the gust of wintry air, wondering why she hadn’t brought a jacket.

Though which one of her jackets or coats could match the elegance of the dress she was wearing?

None.

The girl sighed, bracing herself against the chilly wind as it tousled her hair. The soft click of her heels against the stone alerted Satoru to her presence, pulling him out of his thoughts. He turned, and whatever scowl had been etched to his face melted away the moment he saw her.

In the silvery glow of the moonlight, she looked... different—ethereal, angelic, her appearance so far removed from the Utahime he teased daily.

Tonight, more than ever, she lived up to her name.

She was truly a princess.

“Shoko told me you were here…” She confessed, her voice barely above the breeze.

It took him a while to answer, bewitched, lost in the way the stars seemed to shimmer in her eyes, catching the light in a way that made it hard for him to look away.

She, too, found herself stunned at the sight of him, all decked in the most expensive suit she had ever seen, looking nothing short of regal—like a prince stepped straight out of a fairy tale.

The silence between them stretched, gaping at each other until Satoru’s voice broke the trance.

“What are you…” He cleared his throat. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

Utahime looked down at the box in her hands, her fingers tracing the edge nervously. “I wasn’t sure if I should. I thought... maybe you wouldn’t really want me here.”

He stepped closer with a soft furrow in his brows. “Why would you think that?”

“Because… I feel out of place here. You know… Like I don’t belong.”

He tilted his head, studying her with acuteness that made her want to look away but somehow couldn’t. “Utahime, you belong wherever you choose to be. And I’m really glad you chose to be here tonight.”

The sincerity in his voice caught her so off guard that she almost stumbled, clutching the box tighter. “I—I brought this for you.” She said quickly, holding the present out.

He took it from her hands, and his fingers brushed hers for the briefest moment. Examining the box with curiosity, he discovered the best thing he could ever get as a gift tonight: a chocolate roll cake sprinkled with tiny pieces of marshmallows and kikufuku mochi that left him openmouthed. “Utahime, you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” she interrupted, her cheeks coloring. “It doesn’t look as good as I saw it on that TV show. I’m sorry about that. But I made myself sure it tasted as good and sweet as you like it.”

Satoru’s lips curled into a smile. “Thank you, Hime.” His mouth watered at the sight, using his finger to taste the cream and stealing one of the kikufuku bites to savor it.

Utahime giggled. “Can’t you wait at least until we sing a ‘happy birthday’?”

“Oh. You’re right! Wow, this tastes like heaven..." He walked back to the bench, taking a seat and leaving a spot for her.

Utahime reached into the box, pulling out the cake she had really worked hard to protect all the way here, as well as a candle and a lighter from the bottom. Carefully, she stuck the candle in the center of the roll, lighting it with steady hands. The warm glow of the flame danced across her features, highlighting her most adorable smile as she held the cake up to him.

Satoru’s fingers froze mid-air, the piece of kikufuku hovering near his lips as Utahime’s voice filled the chilly night. Soft, warm and unguarded, her singing carried a fondness that pulled at every one of his heartstrings with the force of a wave.

He barely remembered to chew the treat he had stolen, too entranced by her voice and the way her lips moved as she sang. For him, there was something so pure, so unforgettable about this moment, carrying the kind of simplicity that his life barely allowed.

“Happy birthday, Gojo.” Her voice was so affectionate and sincere that it struck him deeper than he could expect.

Through the flickering light, Satoru’s gaze locked with hers. Her honeyed eyes shone like embers, and the feeling that thumped in his chest was almost unbearable in its intensity.

That was the moment when he finally knew.

She was everything he ever wanted.

He gave her the most beautiful smile Utahime had ever seen. It wasn’t cocky like the ones he flashed to charm, or the playful grin he wore when teasing. This one was vulnerable, tender, transparent, genuine.

Freezing at the sight, her heart skipped a beat as she tried—and failed—to breathe properly.

“Make a wish,” she prompted him, her voice barely audible after clearing her throat.

Leaning over the candle, his blue eyes never left hers until he closed his eyes to make his wish:

To stay with the girl in front of him forever.

Someday, he would tell her. But for now, she wouldn't really ask.

With a soft puff, the candlelight extinguished, followed by a thin thread of smoke curling upward.

“Thank you, Hime,” he repeated, his voice low, almost reverent. With a grin, he straightened up to take a piece of the roll with his hand, holding it with a scrap of the wax paper under the cake, but not without offering one to her first.

Utahime waved it away. “You eat. I brought it for you.”

“Suit yourself,” he replied, taking an eager bite. “Oh-ho-ho, fuck! This is amazing! Seriously, where did you learn to bake cakes like this? First the cupcakes, and now this!”

“My grandma. She gave me some tips here and there before passing away... But I’m not good at decorating, though.”

“Who cares about decorating? This is making my tastebuds sing!” He devoured his first piece with hunger, hastily going for a second one.

It amused her, the delight on his face as he practically gobbled the cake up. “Gojo,” she said suddenly. “Where is Mochi?”

He chuckled, still eating. Leaving half of a third piece to speak, Satoru swallowed. “Daycare. Suguru asked the same. Do you think I could leave him locked in my room or wandering around all these people? He’s better off there until I pick him up tomorrow. I know you care about our son, and so do I.”

But her smile faltered for a brief moment as she watched him eat, her mind drifting to the sullen expression he had worn the week before when talking about his birthday. Something about it had nagged at her ever since. That, and the way she had insulted him weeks ago hadn’t left her mind for a while now.

“Gojo.”

“Hmm?” He hummed, munching on another bite with exquisite delight, clearly enjoying himself.

“I wanted to... apologize for what I said back then when we were in my bedroom…” The girl’s voice could almost mingle with the soft blow of the breeze. Satoru arched a brow, looking baffled.

“What did you say back in your room?”

If he was playing it dumb or not, she wasn’t sure. But his thoughts were unreadable for now.

“I called you a—”

“Hold on,” he cut her off with mock seriousness, leaning closer. “You mean when you called me ‘handsome’ and ‘charming’, don’t you? Why would you apologize for that?”

He finished with a skittish wink, flustering her to the core. And Utahime couldn’t help biting her lip as she fumbled nervously with her fingers on her lap.

Whatever mishap they had encountered in the past was long forgotten in his eyes already. True to his word, Gojo Satoru didn’t hold grudges.

Holding back a smile instead of admitting that he might be both ‘handsome’ and ‘charming’, the girl’s eyes drifted to the city lights beyond the rooftop’s railing.

“And why are you up here? Shouldn’t you be downstairs at the hall with everyone else?”

“He paused mid-bite, his playful attitude dimming as he left the rest of the roll piece in the box. For a moment, the only sound between them was the distant and occasional cacophony of the city below.

“Do you really wanna know?” His voice sounded quieter than she was used to. Utahime nodded. “I guess… I felt out of place too. Like it’s not really my party, you know. All the people down there—businessmen, politicians, all that stuff—they're not here because of me. I’m just an excuse. It’s my mom. All of it was because of her.”

"But... it’s your birthday. Wasn’t this party thrown in behalf of you? Even your classmates are here, and your teachers.” Utahime’s chest tightened as she spoke.

“It’s all about connections and future business alliances. She wants me to be a cunning and strategic leader in the near future, so all she does is set up relationships for when my time comes to inherit the family enterprises. But don’t worry about me. I’m used to it. Being Gojo Satoru means being on display, right? The star child, the heir, the center of attention. It’s always a shitshow. But today, when Suguru left and Shoko’s father gatekeept her, it started being too much for me. So I came here.”

His eyes flickered to her briefly, and she felt her breath catch again.

“Up here, it’s quiet,” he continued, poking the roll to suck the cream on his finger. “No expectations, no fake smiles. Only me. Only Satoru.”

“So,” she dared to follow, holding back a shiver caused by a soft gust of air. “You don’t want to be what she wants you to be?”

“Ah,” he breathed. “I’m not sure of what the fuck I want to be. She hasn’t given me a break to think of it.”

“But…” Utahime bit her lower lip. She was going to regret this, but the weight of the moment demanded from her to say something nice. “You’re good at many things. Numbers, languages, sports, even talking to people... I don’t know. There must be something. Everyone says you have a future in baseball.”

He leaned back on the bench, shrugging. The cake box had been closed now to leave the rest for later. “What if I wanna go for a simple life? You know, maybe someone to spoil me and call it a day,” Satoru chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows. And Utahime frowned for the first time in their conversation.

“That’s not simple. That’s idle.”

He laughed, the sound light but tinged with something deeper. “Maybe you’re right. But sometimes, I think I wouldn’t mind being lazy for once.”

Her gaze softened, frown relaxing as she noticed the brief gush of sadness in his eyes, like a crack in his usual mien.

“Then again,” he continued, his voice lower. “Perhaps I wasn’t born for that.”

Utahime felt a sting of something she didn’t want to delve into. She wanted to ask what he meant, but something in his expression stopped her. It wasn’t the right time, and she knew he wouldn’t tell her anyway. With her hands clasped in her lap, she studied his face, catching the melancholy in his tone, the heaviness in his words that pulled at something deep inside her.

“Maybe you could…” She whispered, stretching nervously the edge of her dress. “If you really want it, you could have a simple life.”

Satoru’s trademark smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. “Oh? You think I, Gojo Satoru, could give up all this?” He gestured broadly at the glittering city and the sprawling state below them. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean to act like a stuck-up bastard. But it’s not easy to do that.”

Utahime didn’t smile. Instead, she met his gaze with unwavering forthrightness. “I think there’s more to you than this. The real you. The one who shows up when no one is watching.”

Her words had struck a chord, and for a moment, he couldn’t find a clever answer. She had this effect: to leave him speechless more often than not. Satoru leaned forward, leaving the box aside and resting his elbows on his knees to let out a soft laugh. “You got me all figured out, don’t you, senpai?”

“No,” she admitted, hiding her blush by looking away from him. “But I’d like to.”

His heart fluttered at her words. There was something in her voice that made him feel weak, defenseless.

The air around them grew heavier as they both started to grasp the meaning of the emotions that swirled in their chests. The city lights twinkled in the distance, showing the majesty and expanse of the night Tokyo, but somehow, the world felt smaller now, like it had shrunk to just the two of them.

“Heh, you make it sound so easy.”

Utahime blinked, caught off guard by the rawness in his voice. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated, and his blue eyes searched for hers, trying to find the right words. “Being with you... it’s like I don’t have to try so hard. Like I can just be. No pretending, no stupid expectations. And I don't think I’ve ever felt that with anyone else.”

Her breath hitched as his words sank in. It was hard for her to say something, afraid that her own voice could betray the outburst of emotions that rioted inside.

With his gaze locked on hers, Satoru straightened up, leaning closer. “And it scares me a little, you know. How much I want to keep feeling this way.”

Utahime’s lips parted, yet no sound came out. She stared at him for heartbeats of moments, her heart thumping so wildly in her chest that she thought he could hear it. The chills of the night were long forgotten, replaced by a gush of warmth in her core that made her gasp.

Thus, before the anxiety of the moment made her overthink it, she whispered. “Me too.”

The world finally thinned out, vanishing the space between them in an instant. Satoru leaned closer, tentative at first, fearing he could break the fragile moment they had built. But then she brushed her lips against his, freezing him for a moment yet never pulling away. Instead, he tilted his head and leaned into her, deepening the kiss and making it warmer, more certain.

They had finally crossed the bridge that was always meant to be burnt.

With their lips pressed together, Satoru dared to nibble softly on hers, leading every motion in her inexperience. It felt like melting and floating at the same time, eyelids fluttering as he breathed her in deeply, circling her waist with his arms to pull her closer. It felt like a tingling that started in their tongues and traveled down their bellies until it burst out like fireworks.

He tasted like chocolate and matcha tea. Like kikufuku and marshmallows with a subtle touch of peppermint. He felt like the sun, warming her up with his apricity, keeping her safe between his arms.

She tasted like peach, and caramel, and vanilla ice cream—like hope and relief. She felt like the moon—bright and serene, like the spurt of peace his life lacked.

It was dusk turning to dawn. The nirvana of an eclipse. The day meeting the night.

After a moment, he pulled back and smiled, her face coming into focus, but their lips touched again, and Satoru knew he was home.

She was his home. The only one for him.

And maybe he had always known it, but perhaps this was the right time for this truth to take shape thoroughly in his mind.

They kissed and kissed, feeling each other’s scent and learning each other’s taste, with the world around completely faded into oblivion.

They smiled into each other’s mouths when the kiss broke, and he rested his forehead against hers, their breathings mingling together in the cool night air.

“You’re blushing,” he teased, a while after catching his breath.

Here she came again, furrowing her brows in that cute expression that would always make him want to kiss her from now on.

“Shut up. So are you.”

Satoru laughed, the sound bright and carefree, vanishing all the weight he had carried. “Guess we’re both guilty.”

He pecked her lips once again, watching her bit her lip with an endearing shyness that melted his heart.

“Happy birthday, Satoru,” the girl repeated, warming his insides at the mention of his name. His grin widened, now pecking her cheek.

“Say it again.”

Utahime shook her head, chuckling tenderly. “Happy birthday, Satoru.”

And he smiled, his eyes bright with an emotion that made her chest ache. “Best birthday ever.”

They stayed like that for a moment longer, interlocking fingers and holding onto the stillness of the rooftop, reluctant to let the moment end. He kissed her again and again and again, grasping a hold of this moment and conveying in his lips everything he was too overwhelmed to pronounce.

And she melted in every single kiss, warmth spreading through her chest as she never had felt before, relishing in the softness of his lips and the fondness of his eyes every time he gazed at her.

“Can I have this dance?” He smirked, standing and offering his hand, the sound of a certain song coming from the hall up to his ears.

Utahime hesitated for a second before slipping her hand into his, getting ready to dance, but he just shook his head, reaching out to his cape on the arm bench to slide it over her shoulders. “Not here. I want everyone to see you.”

First, he made sure to keep the cake box in a safe place between the flowerpots so he could go back for it in the morning. Only then he took her hand again, leading their way back down together. A smile was plastered on their lips when they entered the hall—Utahime’s being mousier than Satoru’s, who was practically making a big effort not to shout it from the rooftops.

Shoko spotted them immediately from the distance, rushing to meet them as her sharp brown eyes zeroed in her friends’ clasped hands and Satoru’s cape on Utahime. The girl raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a knowing, mischievous smile. “Well, well, look who decided to appear.”

Utahime flushed, but Satoru just chuckled, utterly unfazed and rather proud. “What can I say? Stargazing with good company beats boring party chatter.”

Shoko chuckled, stepping closer to hug Utahime. But Satoru never let go of his girl's hand. “It was about damn time, you dummies. Congratulations. One of you will have to tell us everything!”

Utahime made an attempt to stammer a response, but Satoru squeezed her hand so she didn’t feel forced to make up an answer, his playful grin silencing her. “Let's just say it’s been an unforgettable night. Now, excuse us, Shoko. I’ll have a dance with my girl.”

Before his friend could press further, Satoru tugged Utahime toward the center of the dancing floor, where other people were dancing. “Come on,” he said, looking at her.

The girl moved reluctantly. “I’ve never danced like this—”

“But I have.” He cut her in, blue eyes sparkling. “So let me be your lead.”

The music was soft and melodic, encouraging them to sway in harmony. Yet it didn’t take long for the couple to attract the attention of the guests and the media delegates. Utahime felt her discomfort grow, unaccustomed to the weight of countless curious eyes on her, all amplified by the sudden bursts of camera flashes. Whispers spread like fire about the girl who danced with the Gojo heir.

Satoru felt uncomfortable, too. Because this wasn’t just about him. And he knew what would happen next day if he allowed all the leeches to get what they wanted. The last time the media focused this insistently on him was years ago, back when his father passed away.

And it hadn’t been a pleasant experience whatsoever.

At the same time, Kaede had spotted them from the sidelines, her perfectly composed expression faltering when she noticed the way her son had looked at this stranger. There had been something different in his countenance—tender, unguarded—something that had sent a pang of unease through her body even before the sudden deluge of flashing cameras. Tapping her glass with her manicured nails, her brain formulated questions and schemes, ready to act on her suspicions. Yet her intentions could never come to fruition.

Catching Shoko’s desperate handsigns toward the door, Satoru leaned close to her ear, his voice a whisper. “Let’s get out of here.”

Now that they were in the eye of the storm, staying was not a reliable option.

Utahime pulled back, anxious yet surprised. “Can we?”

“Of course we can. After all, this whole circus wasn’t for me.”

The girl glanced around, blinded shortly by the camera flashes, all of it making her decision easy to take. “Let’s go.”

He grinned, grabbing her hand. Together, they wove through the prying crowd, avoiding Kaede’s hawk-like gaze as they slipped out to the rear exit of the house to dodge the paparazzi. Leaving the chaos behind, he guided her through the neighborhood roads, reaching a street where he flagged down a cab, swiftly getting in. The taxi stopped later in front of the Tokyo Tower, and Satoru paid the driver as they got off, hurrying to buy two pairs of scarves and gloves in a store nearby before their asses could freeze.

She looked at him, blowing on her hands to get some warmth as he wrapped the scarf around her carefully.

“Did you have this planned?” She asked, her neck and hands finally covered. Satoru smiled gently.

“I wish, but no.” Once he was done with his scarf and gloves, he took her hand and got out of the store, leading their way to the building under the tower to buy the tickets and get to the Special Observatory. They went up holding hands in comfortable silence, the few visitors in the room being the only source of noise behind them. A voice through the loudspeakers let the people know that the tower’s nighttime hours would end in 30 minutes.

“Why here?” The girl glanced at him once they were in front of the skydeck, and she almost gasped when she saw his profile illuminated by the moonlight that pierced the glass, the sight of him leaving her more stunned than the city skyline.

He turned to her, his blue eyes intense yet gentle, still getting accustomed to the fact that they were here together, holding hands, and he had kissed her many times moments ago.

“Because there are people, but it still feels peaceful, with no one minding our presence. Away from everything. Just us.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his confession. And she squeezed his hand this time for self-reassurance. “Thank you.”

“For what?” His eyes darted to the night view again, fighting the urge to pull her into a hug, still harboring fears of ruining everything they had lived in a single night.

“For bringing me here.”

Satoru smiled. “Well, thank you for coming with me.”

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Their gazes locked, weaving the first threads of a bond that would know no boundaries.

“This is what I wished for.” The boy muttered, his knuckle brushing against her skin.

With an army of butterflies fluttering in her stomach, Utahime cleared her throat before speaking. “What do you mean?”

“When I blew out the candle,” he explained, his voice steady. “I wished for you to stay by my side.”

Her breath hitched and her heart raced. And she had no time to respond, for he leaned in, brushing her lips in a kiss full of tenderness, hope, mistakes, and silent promises.

The kind of kiss that made the world disappear, leaving just the two of them, with the stars as their only witnesses.

“Happy birthday,” Utahime said for the fourth time in the night, afraid that the others weren't enough, and earning another kiss in response.

Because he knew she was his best gift, and he had never felt happier.

Chapter Text

The dining room was silent as usual that Monday morning, except for the weak clinking of the porcelain ware and chopsticks. Wearing his school uniform but the jacket, Satoru sat across from his mother, who observed him with her habitual air of quiet scrutiny. A mid-December wide, warm sunray that pierced the window lit up the table during breakfast, painting their meal with a pristine, wintry aura.

Yet the atmosphere between them was anything but relaxed.

And despite it all, Satoru couldn't help feeling happy.

Kaede set her glass of juice down slowly, dabbing her lips with the serviette before breaking the deadly silence that reigned over the room, just like every morning in the Gojo household. The infectious but subtle smile on her son's lips seemed to bother her for some reason.

“Who was the girl you were dancing with at your party, Satoru?”

The boy took his time to chew and swallow before responding. And his smile, of course, vanished in an instant.

“Her name is Utahime,” he said simply, gulping down the contents of his glass to pour himself a second serving, causing his mother to wince subtly at his manners.

He had been waiting for her to ruin the morning, but never this fast.

“Utahime,” she repeated, testing the word on her tongue. “What kind of name is that for a young lady? It sounds... provincial. Does she hail from the countryside or something similar? Perhaps her family is part of some old, religious aristocracy. Or am I mistaken?”

Satoru sighed with annoyance, his appetite already waning. "First of all, that's just her name. Second, her family isn’t anything like what you’re imagining.”

Kaede arched a brow, yet her expression remained unreadable. “Then, tell me, why have I never seen that girl before?”

“Because I haven’t brought her around.”

“Why not?”

He leaned back in his chair, and his eyes met hers with a hint of defiance. “Because I want to save her the troubles.”

“Of?” Kaede’s voice was calm, but he could feel an edge to it.

“Of you despising her and giving me a speech on why she’s not suitable,” he said, dropping his chopsticks on the hashi-oki to cross his arms over his chest.

“Why wouldn’t this girl be suitable? What’s so special about this lady that you feel the need to hide her?” The woman’s voice was colder now, and her gaze had grown sharper.

“I wasn’t hiding her. I was protecting her from you and your awful comments and prejudices.”

“Oh.” Kaede took another sip of her juice, followed by a small bite of her shiozake . “I can see where this is going.”

“No. You don’t know a thing.”

“Then enlighten me. Tell me about her so I can understand.” The woman’s eyes didn’t waver.

“She’s not like us. Are you happy now?”

“Obviously not,” his mother retorted. “And stop being insolent with me, Satoru. I’m still expecting a proper explanation, and this conversation isn’t finished until you answer.”

“Her dad passed away. She’s on a scholarship and her mom is barely around. She doesn’t come from a wealthy or aristocratic family, but she’s the girl I want. Is that enough, Mother?”

Mrs. Gojo clenched her jaw, her expression hardening. Satoru didn’t need to look at her to know how displeased she was with this new information.

“You think that is enough, Satoru?”

“For me, it is, indeed,” he replied firmly.

“I don’t think that you comprehend the weight of your actions or how inadequate it would be for you to have dealings with people like this Utahime girl. Someone like her—without means, connections and a decent family name—could very well be an opportunist, and I have no doubts that she sees you as a ticket to a better life. It really concerns me that you are calling her ‘the girl you want’ at such a young age when you can’t possibly understand what that actually means.”

Satoru’s jaw tightened, just like his mother’s. “You don’t know her. And you don’t know me either.”

“I am your mother. And I don’t have to know her, because I’ve seen this play before. Women from impoverished backgrounds—”

“Stop! That was enough!” Satoru interrupted, his hands slamming on the table. Yet his mother never flinched in the slightest. “You’re just making assumptions without knowing a thing about her. But I do know her, and Utahime isn’t that kind of person.”

The woman scowled at her son. “Given how young and naive you are, I can only say you’re being reckless and immature. No one knows better than your own mother that this kind of relationship can ruin you.”

Satoru stood abruptly, the chair scraping softly against the perfectly polished wooden floor. Blue flames of rage flared in his eyes as he glared at Kaede, watching her take the last sip of juice.

“You can save all your lectures for yourself, because I’m not going to let you insult her. Utahime is my girlfriend, and she has done much more for me than any other person in this fucking world, including you.” The boy lifted a finger, pointing straight at her in a menacing posture. “Don’t you dare talk against her again, and I’m serious about this.”

Kaede’s expression didn’t change, but the grip of her fingers around her juice glass tightened. “You’re making a mistake. But I’ll appeal to the wisdom you’ll acquire in the short future for it to open your eyes so you can understand that she’s nothing else than a social climber, and you will remember this conversation.”

Turning toward the door, Satoru clicked his tongue in annoyance. It was pointless to try to convince her otherwise. “Whatever happens, it’ll be my business, not yours.”

He took his schoolbag and his jacket and left the room, closing the door with a loud whack, leaving his mother in the silence. She finished her breakfast with a last bite, certain that her son would grow tired of this girl and he would eventually see reason.

Yet the restlessness his words stirred wouldn’t fade easily from her mind.

But as long as he was a minor and under her control, she could still steer his life as she saw fit.

Truth be told, Utahime hadn’t slept much after Satoru’s birthday.

She had spent the whole day thinking of him, and the whole night tossing and turning on the bed as her mind replayed every detail. The way he had looked at her, how they had danced and how he had kissed her over and over again, before and after their escapade together. She felt both exhilarated and uneasy, leaving her with haunting questions as she processed it all.

Was it too much?

Too bold?

Too soon?

Inappropriate?

As she got ready for school that Monday morning, she looked at her reflection in the mirror and noticed the subtle dark circles under her eyes that betrayed her sleepless night.

She was slipping into her jacket when the front door of her apartment creaked open, followed by the familiar shuffle of unsteady footsteps, and a pair of shoes being left at the genkan . Utahime tensed, praying for her mother to be drunk so she could ignore her, even if only for that day.

She had been missing for six days now. Why couldn’t she take another day away?

Why couldn’t she take forever ?

“Well, well,” the woman’s voice dripped with sarcasm as she stumbled into the room. Utahime winced when she caught the smell of alcohol clinging to her. “If it isn’t my little socialite, gracing us with her presence after dancing with rich boys all weekend.”

Setsuko plopped onto the old couch, holding a crumpled tabloid. Her daughter had turned slowly, with her heart sinking as she faced her and discovered what she had in hand—a grainy photo of her and Satoru dancing in the middle of his hall stood out on the magazine cover.

The headline was a tease about the mysterious girl who had captured the Gojo heir’s attention.

“Wh-where did you get that?” Utahime’s breath hitched, and her voice trembled beneath the surface.

How didn’t she see that coming? Paparazzi had been all over the place, and she had been caught in the middle of their flash.

The woman sniffed, her body going limp before she spoke, slurring her words.

“You think you can prance around with your rich little pimp and no one will notice? You’re in the papers now, dancing with that stupid boy like the gold digger you are.” Setsuko spat with bitterness and no intention of veiling her jealousy. “Buying cigarettes, and what do I see? My fucking daughter, acting like she’s someone important. All while I rot away here like a piece of cheap meat.”

A gush of pain pierced Utahime’s chest. She was already accustomed to her mother’s mean remarks and spiteful opinions, but she couldn’t help feeling somewhat affected by a few of them. However, she would defend herself firmly, with dignity and pride.

“I’m not a gold digger. I just went to a party.”

“A party with the elite, of course.” Setsuko sneered, tossing the paper aside and taking out a cigarette out of the box she had bought. “You think you’re better than me now? Dancing with rich boys, going to a school for rich kids, thinking you can escape this life? Look at you in your expensive uniform, pretending to be someone you’re not.”

“I’m not pretending anything.” Her voice began to rise. “I went because I was invited. Satoru is my... my friend.”

“Friend?” Setsuko laughed. It was a harsh, grating sound. “Do you really think a boy like that sees you as a friend? He just wants to fuck you and then ditch you like some common whore. He’ll get bored of you because you’re nothing but a plaything to rich kids like him.” The woman lit the cigarette and blew a long curl of smoke. “You’re not just ugly, but also stupid.”

Utahime’s fists clenched at her sides. “You don’t know anything about him. And stop talking to me like that!”

“I am your mother!” Setsuko jumped from her seat and stomped closer to the girl. “I can do whatever I want with you!” Her hand raised, but Utahime caught her wrist before the slap could land.

They both glared at each other, breathless from the confrontation. Setsuko’s breath was heavy with the stench of alcohol and bitterness. And even when Utahime felt like shaking and her nostrils burned from the whiff, she stood there, determined.

“Don’t you dare hit me ever again, Setsuko. You lost that right long ago. I’m not a little girl anymore.”

For a moment, it seemed like Setsuko might push further, like she would try to hurt her again the best she could. But then her balance wavered, and the girl pushed her against the wall, releasing her wrist and stepping back.

“Go then.” She cried. “Go to your rich friends and see how long it lasts. That boy will ditch you! All of them! And you’ll come crawling back.”

Utahime grabbed her bag and turned toward the door. But she paused, not only to take her slippers off and put her shoes on but also to look back at her mother once more. “A while ago, I promised I wouldn’t end up like you. And I am keeping that promise.”

She walked out and closed the door behind her. Setsuko’s hollers faded as she made her way to the Sanya station, but doubts had already started gnawing at her, even though she had decided not to let her mother’s bitterness dictate her life.

It began snowing when Utahime walked through the bustling streets toward school. She wrapped her scarf tight around her neck and hid her hands in the pockets of her winter uniform coat, seeking more warmth. She couldn’t shake her mother’s words from her head, for they had fed the insecurities she had always carried with herself, more so since the last weekend.

Was she making a mistake by getting involved with Gojo Satoru?

Was Setsuko truly right about him eventually growing bored and leaving her behind?

She slowed down as she approached the school. With her heart heavy and her ass full of doubts, she found herself hoping, almost praying, that she wouldn’t see him today.

Perhaps some distance would help her settle her thoughts, and he would forget about the incident at his party and never look at her again. After kissing him so many times, she wasn’t ready to face his warmth, his confident smile or the way his presence made her feel like she could conquer anything.

But when she crossed the gates, there he was.

Satoru stood at the school entrance, his tall frame leaning casually against the robust trunk of a cherry tree, with his hands in his pockets. His perfectly tailored uniform fit him like a glove, all the dark fabric contrasting against his shock of white hair. The morning winter sun sprinkled its golden rays over him, making him look almost ethereal.

With his sunglasses resting on his head, his blue eyes could spot her immediately. And the wide grin that spread across his face lightened up his handsome features with confidence and joy.

“There she is,” he greeted her with the brightest voice while pushing off the tree. “The most beautiful girl my eyes have ever seen.”

Utahime felt her breath falter. For a moment, all her worries melted away because, in his presence, it was easy to forget all the biting remarks—her insecurities, her doubts. Satoru was a ray of light, one that pulled her out of the darkness she so often found herself fighting against.

Before she could greet him back, Satoru closed the distance between them, taking her hand to pull her to him and place a chaste kiss on her cheek. And they didn’t fail at attracting the prying eyes of the students who kept arriving, much to Utahime’s embarrassment.

“Gojo,” she whispered. “Everybody is staring at us.”

His smile grew wider, his eyes fixed on hers with tenderness and a hint of mischief. “And? Let everybody know that you’re my girlfriend. But I thought we were on first-name terms. Now that you’re my girlfriend, you can’t call me like everyone else does.”

 Her cheeks turned crimson, and her heart beat fast.

“Boy…friend?”

Her mother insinuating it was one thing. But hearing it from Satoru’s mouth was a horse of another color.

Satoru nodded enthusiastically, taking her hand in his to kiss it.

“And as your boyfriend, may I ask why you didn’t sleep well?” He studied her face with concern. His finger brushed her chin with affection. “Is everything okay, Hime?”

Utahime didn’t expect her eyebags to be so... evident. She should say something, anything, to keep him from worrying. But she nodded instead, the veil of her doubts temporarily lifted by his presence. Gojo Satoru had that effect on her—making her believe that, for once, everything was going to be alright.

“I just had a..." She thought of blaming it on her period, but that would have been embarrassing. However, before she could voice another excuse, they heard whisperings. Whisperings that quickly turned into excited murmurs and not-so-subtle and bitter glances thrown their way.

“Is that her?” A second-year said to another with curiosity.

“Yeah, that’s her!” The other girl replied, astonished.

“The girl from the pictures with Gojo-san at his party!” A third one said. And the crowd started growing in number as the high school students gathered around.

“I saw them on TV too. Can you believe it? Gojo-san dancing with a girl like her!” Someone else added, and the voice came filled with envy and surprise.

Utahime stiffened, and Satoru squeezed her hand. He knew that each word from this chatter was a sharp needle that pricked her composure. But he couldn’t help being kind of amused by hearing them talk.

“I knew she looked familiar!” Another student said, drawing a cocky smile from Satoru’s lips.

But Utahime’s heart felt like sinking. The idea of being the talk of the town, with her face plastered on magazines and broadcasted on television, was—beyond measure—horrifying.

To become the center of attention was the last thing she wanted, especially in a school where everyone knew Gojo Satoru.

“Yeah, I was dancing with a girl like this because she’s my girlfriend. Any problem with that?” He said, unfazed. And the gathering of curious teenagers gasped in unison at the confirmation of the bond that the school’s king shared with the scholarship girl.

“Gojo!” She whispered, but he smiled at her in return.

“What?” Satoru brought her hand to his lips to place a soft kiss on it. His voice was calm. Reassuring. “Let them talk. They’re just jealous.”

“Well, what’s this assembly for?” The voice of an adult rose over those present. Akiyama-sensei approached them as soon as he noticed the crowd behind the school gates. “Everyone, to the morning meeting now!”

All the kids headed to the hall at the command. But Satoru was calm enough to take his time and walk slowly with his girlfriend’s hand still in his and a grin so wide that it would eventually make his cheeks hurt.

“Satoru,” Utahime called. Both of them moved behind the others. “I don’t like being the center of gossip.”

Gojo Satoru felt proud as a peacock. A sense of fulfillment filled his chest as he threw his arm around the girl’s shoulders and kissed her cheek, noticing a few nosy idiots that couldn’t take their eyes off of them.

“They’ll get over it soon,” he assured her with such confidence that it made her want to believe him. “And you’re not just anyone. You’re my girlfriend, and all those jerks will have to deal with it.”

The truth was that Utahime would be on everybody’s lips for a while, even the faculty’s. Satoru would enjoy it instead, as much as it lasted. He was used to this—to be the center of attention, the soul of the party.

But she wasn’t.

Iori Utahime had been born in a humble family; apart from money, connections and jet-set life, happening to fall in his world because of her brains and hard work. And this universe of lavish parties, constant scrutiny and relentless gossip were concepts foreign to her. Unlike Satoru, who thrived in the spotlight. But Utahime had always preferred the shadows, for it had allowed her to observe quietly without the harsh glare of judgmental eyes.

Every whisper and every glance seemed magnified now, making her feel exposed. It was suffocating, as if her private life had been stripped bare for everyone to dissect. She wondered how Satoru managed to stay calm and brush off all the gossip and stares as if they were nothing more than a mild inconvenience, because, for her, it wasn’t that simple.

Unaccustomed to this kind of attention, the pressure of suddenly being part of Satoru’s world was distressing for Utahime. She knew that, with this, comments about her background, her appearance and her suitability for someone like Satoru would come, and all of it would cut deeper into her insecurities.

But she chose to keep her thoughts to herself despite her discomfort. And she did it because of him.

Because she liked him, and his company—perhaps more than liked him, if she were honest to herself. She liked his warmth, his charm, and the way he looked at her with these blue eyes of his as if she were the only person in the world. And she wanted him by her side, even if it meant enduring the unwanted attention that came with it.

The girl took a deep breath and straightened her posture. She would bear the weight of her choice, no matter how cumbersome this could be. Because being with Satoru made her feel things she thought she would never experience, and the way her heart thumped in her chest in his presence rendered her unable to step away from him.

However, she couldn’t have imagined that she was already under someone’s radar. This presence that lurked in the shadows like a predator was determined to ensure that Satoru’s life followed the path expected from someone of his status and not the one he was choosing to carve out for himself with her by his side.

Yet the time for their paths to cross wouldn’t come for now.

As the fickle child Fate was, it still held some moments of happiness in store for the girl to enjoy, delaying the arrival of the dark clouds that gathered and waited for them on the horizon.

“See you at lunch?” Satoru’s voice pulled her back to reality as he squeezed his hand, stopping in front of the hallway. Their time together was over, and they had to part ways to go with their respective classes.

The glint of endless affection she caught in his eyes almost took her to the verge of tears, for it was a reminder that he would be here for her, no matter what.

“Yeah.”

Satoru grinned, leaning in to kiss her cheek again.

I’m here, Hime. We’re in this together.

But he kept those words to himself, suddenly feeling too shy to voice them aloud.

With Christmas and winter break around the corner, Satoru felt utterly excited. 

Not only because he would no longer be the third wheel in Suguru and Shoko’s relationship, but most importantly, because he would spend his vacation with the girl he loved. His mother seemed to have forgotten about Utahime—which was a relief—and this would be the first and last winter holiday they could share before she went off to college.

Nothing could possibly go wrong.

For now, he was happy just smooching with his girlfriend in a secluded corner of the cafeteria. It felt like heaven—her sweet lips pressed against his, her hands cradling his face as he pulled her closer, savoring every passing second.

Occasionally, they paused, and he would smile at her like she was the only person in his universe. Each time, he was rewarded with the magnificent sight of her cheeks colored in the most adorable shade of pink, accentuating her angelic beauty in a way that made his heart race.

Just as he leaned in for another kiss, a familiar voice cut in on their private moment. And he couldn’t help wincing.

“Get a room, you two,” Suguru teased. He and Shoko approached the table, both holding trays with their bento boxes on them.

Utahime pulled away. Her face had grown redder as she fidgeted nervously. “We were just...”

“Yeah, we can see what you’re just doing.” Shoko smirked, leaving the tray on the table to take her seat. “Didn’t know the cafeteria was a make-out spot now.”

“Look, they haven’t even touched their bento. ” Suguru sat next to his girlfriend and across his friends, each pulling out two cans of Coke from their pockets for each one.

Satoru chuckled, unbothered by their intrusion. “Jealous? You two could use some practice.”

“Nah, we have the hall’s mezzanine for that,” Suguru clarified.

“Well, as long as Yaga doesn’t find out, man.”

While the others just giggled in unison, Utahime bit her lip, glancing down at the table. The sudden attention made her feel self-conscious, but Satoru’s hand found hers and squeezed it under the table.

“So what are your plans for tomorrow?” Suguru asked, taking a bite of his grilled fish. The four of them occupied one of the cafeteria tables during lunch.

“What about a double date?” Satoru suggested, munching on a ball of takoyaki . Utahime slapped his arm to stop him from speaking with his mouth full. “Hime! Don’t do that!” he protested, his words slightly garbled by the food in his mouth.

It seemed that she had already shaken her embarrassment off, even if only a bit.

Shoko chuckled, sipping on her Coke. “I don’t think that’s appropriate. You guys just started dating and will surely want some time alone before a double date.”

“Hmm,” Suguru swallowed before speaking. “Shoko is right. Besides, I don’t think Utahime-senpai wants any bridesmaids behind during your date. And my girlfriend and I could use a break from your annoying ass.”

The couple in front of Satoru laughed while he grumbled, and Utahime couldn’t help but giggle.

“Fine, but you guys will miss out. I was planning to go skiing in the mountains and have the most amazing date, and now,” he pointed at his two friends with his index. “You’ll wish you were there.”

“Sure, we’ll be super jealous,” Shoko replied, rolling her eyes. “We’ll be absolutely devastated. Right, Suguru?”

“Heartbroken,” the black-haired boy added with feigned sincerity, placing a hand on his chest.

Utahime chuckled. The lighthearted banter between her friends and boyfriend made her feel more at ease, and these moments were the ones she wanted to treasure the most.

“Maybe they’re right,” she whispered to Satoru’s ear.

He gripped her hand tight under the table in response, whispering back. “I get it. You’d rather spend more time alone with your boyfriend, wouldn’t you?”

“Shut up!” She hissed, flushing instantly. But her attempt at staying composed was derailed when her boyfriend leaned in and gave her a quick peck on her lips, laughing at her embarrassment. “Gojo, don’t do that!”

“Hang in there! At least wait until we leave!” Suguru retorted dramatically. He waved a hand in disgust, as if he couldn’t bear to witness any more.

“Seriously, guys,” Shoko shook her head as she stood, taking her bento box and Coke in her hands. “You two are getting dangerously close to PDA territory, and I didn’t sign up to see that.”

The girl walked off, and Suguru followed her after giving his friends a two-finger salute.

Meanwhile, Satoru leaned closer to Utahime with a mischievous grin. “So, what were you saying? About spending more time with me.”

She bit back a smile, frowning instead as she turned her head aside. “You shouldn’t say these things in front of them, Satoru.”

“I’m sorry, Hime, but now that you’re finally my girlfriend, I have to brag.”

Her frown faded, giving way to a reluctant but subtle smile. “You are the biggest baka. ”

“And you’re stuck with this baka ,” he teased with playful arrogance, bumping his forehead against her. “Lucky you.”

Despite herself, Utahime laughed softly. And she had the sudden idea of stuffing a bite of Ebi fry in his mouth with her chopsticks. He almost choked on it, melodramatically clutching his throat like he was on the verge of death.

“Hime! Killing me in public? You’re wild!”

“You’ll survive.” There she was, frowning again. She wondered if being Gojo Satoru’s girlfriend meant being exposed to this on a daily basis.

And deep inside she knew the answer to that question was an affirmative one.

“Fine, fine,” he said, sighing dramatically. “Since you’re cute, I’ll let that one slide. But speaking of serious topics,” Satoru leaned closer, resting his chin on his hand. “When does your prep for the national test start? Did you decide which university you’ll aim for?”

Utahime straightened, both of them taking another bite of their lunches. “I already started, you dummy.”

“Oh, I see. That’s why you’re always studying. My bookworm of a girlfriend.”

The girl grunted before continuing. “But I guess it’ll be harder after the winter break. And about university... I’m torn between Kyoto and Tokyo, but I don’t know. Getting in won’t be easy. And I’m not sure if I’ll be lucky again to win another scholarship.”

“Hey,” Satoru’s expression was a mix of emotions: a small pang of sadness, a strong gush of pride, and a stark blow of sincerity. “You are the smartest girl I’ve ever known, and I know you can get not only the scholarship but everything you want in life. If you want me to be honest, I don’t like the idea of you moving to another city just after we started dating, but as long as you’re okay with that, I’ll be okay too. You’re going to crush that test.”

Utahime’s chest tightened with so much warmth she couldn’t quite measure it. The tenderness in his eyes and the firmness in his voice tickled her insides with a feeling so fierce she didn’t dare name.

“Kyoto is just an option. It’s too early to say I’m going to move.” The girl bit her lip, her chopsticks fidgeting in her hands.

“I wouldn’t mind if you choose Tokyo over Kyoto, so I can visit you there every day after school,” he replied without hesitation. His blue eyes focused on how the blood returned to her lower lip as it slipped out of her teeth, painting them sensually crimson again.

Satoru felt a brief tinge of guilt for looking at her with desire now, but this wouldn’t be the first time this happened. The only difference now being that he wouldn’t feed his ache nor act on it like he had done weeks ago, back in his bedroom.

She was the girl he loved, after all.

A tiny corner of his mind wondered if she had felt like this about him too.

“If you behave, I could think about it.”

“I’m a good boy!” There he was, with that playful smugness of his that drove her mad.

Taking a sip of her Coke can, Utahime turned away, her cheeks burning. “Nope. You’re impossible.”

He shot her a grin. “And you’re adorable. Jeez, who would have thought I was going to be the boyfriend of a college girl?”

With the intention to change the subject before her blush could paint her whole face, Utahime cleared her throat. “Anyway, I want you to know that my freedom ends after winter break for a whole week. Studying for the test will leave me no time to breathe.”

“And what about your birthday?”

“What’s with it? My birthday is one month shy after the test.”

Satoru shrugged, finishing the rest of his lunch in a big bite and gulping it down with a long sip of Coke. “I know. We gotta plan something for that day.”

“It’s nothing special, Satoru.”

“Don’t say that. It’s your big day. You’ll turn nineteen and graduate after that. Isn’t it a good reason to celebrate?”

She shook her head. “I’ll wear a furisode I bought a while ago and I’ll be okay.”

He eyed her for a moment, wondering if he should press further or not. The reason why she was so adamant about not celebrating her birthday was something he could easily guess, but he decided not to mention it, or he would have hurt her pride.

And he would never do something as low as that, much less to his girl.

“You know what? Leave that in my hands, and don’t be so boring.”

Utahime sighed. “I’m practical. And there’s no point in making a fuss.”

“Whatever,” he exhaled. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, so get ready because we’re gonna spend the best Christmas of our lives.”

“Why are you so bossy sometimes?”

Satoru was about to answer when their conversation was interrupted by the casual whispering of a group of girls who sat across their table. They both felt the shift in the room immediately—stares, whispers and darting glances that made Utahime’s stomach churn.

Here we go again.

Satoru’s fangirls never failed to awake something primal and murderous in her—a bubbling irritation, maybe even jealousy, though she blatantly refused to call it that. No matter how many times he openly dismissed their absurd devotion toward him, their presence still managed to unsettle her.

Of course, Kimura Nanako—her self-proclaimed rival in a battle only one of them acknowledged—had to be among them.

Back when they met at the school choir, Nanako barely spared her a glance, deeming her too inconsequential to waste her attention on her. But the closer she had gotten to Gojo Satoru, the more the other girl’s disdain had grown, swelling inside like a dark storm ready to burst.

“Don’t mind them,” he finally said, bringing her back to reality. He had leaned closer so only she could hear. “You know they’re jealous.”

Utahime hesitated. Her instincts were telling her to leave this place as soon as possible. “Satoru, I think—”

“Think what?” He cut her in, loud enough for everyone around to hear. “That my amazing, adorable, cute and beautiful girlfriend deserves to be the spotlight everywhere she goes? Because she, you, surely does.”

Whispers turned into hushed gasps and glares from Kimura. Utahime could notice the way her chin hardened as she ground her teeth with blind rage.

“Satoru, stop—”

He stood up suddenly, with a smug grin plastered on his face as he turned to the girls, bending with a theatrical wave. “Are you ladies here for some kind of show? Well, I hate to break it to you, but no one compares to my Hime. She’s perfect.”

Nanako’s fingers clutched the fabric of her skirt in rage, hands twitching as she fought to maintain her composure. Her friends exchanged uneasy looks, yet none of them dared to intervene.

“Perfect?” Nanako snorted with venom. “That’s funny, Gojo-san. I thought you had standards. ”

All eyes in the cafeteria diverted their attention to Kimura as she spoke, and all voices went eerily silent. As for Utahime, she felt her pulse hammer in her head as all heads turned to them.

Satoru, with his own blood pooling on his face, felt Utahime’s hand holding him back before he could act on Kimura’s words.

The girl smirked, seizing the moment. “I mean, come on, look at her. A nobody from a nowhere family, an ugly scholarship girl sitting next to you like she belongs. Like she didn’t claw her way into this school on sheer luck.”

Letting out a cruel chuckle and tossing her head over her shoulder, Nanako continued. “You’re the king of the school. You could have anyone, and you pick…” She eyed Utahime from head to toe with disdain. “ This? ”

Utahime’s hands let go of Satoru, clenching into fists. That’s it. This bitch is gonna get her teeth knocked out today.

Before she could move, Satoru beat her to it.

“Are you jealous of my girlfriend , Kimura?” He cut her in, his voice loud and confident.

Gasps rippled through the whole cafeteria. Nanako’s face twisted with rage and hurt. “I’m not—”

But Satoru wasn’t done. Not yet. He crossed his arms with a smirk, turning fully toward the girl. “You know, I’ve always wondered something…” As if deep in thought, he tapped a finger to his chin. “Tell me, why are you so obsessed with me?”

Utahime and the bystanders almost choked.

“Seriously, it’s weird and lame.” He tilted his head. “Like, are you just naturally awful, or are you bitter because no one—not a single guy in this school—has ever wanted to date you? I mean, being as popular as you think you are, I’ve never seen you date anyone. You’ve spent years trying to lick my boots and get close to me instead. But with no results.”

Nanako gasped, outraged and humiliated.

“Let’s be real.” Satoru’s smirk widened as he leaned in and towered over her, his hands in his pockets. “You’re nasty. Not just in the looks department—yikes, that’s not working in your favor either—but in the personality department. Which, in my opinion, is waaaaay worse.” He sighed. “Honestly, isn’t it exhausting to be so annoying all the time?”

Seeing the way Kimura’s eyes glistened with unshed tears and her face grew pale with embarrassment, Utahime felt pity for her, and took her boyfriend’s hand. “Satoru—”

“Utahime might have a scholarship and all that stupid shit people like you love looking down on, but you’ll never be like her. She’s much better than you.”

The rest of the girls shrank in their seats, stunned into silence as their friend sobbed in sheer humiliation.

Being a jerk wasn’t in Gojo Satoru’s blood, nor his plans.

But he could easily act like one if provoked.

“Alright, let’s go, my lady.” Before Utahime could oppose, Satoru bent down and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Luckily for him, Utahime was as light as a feather. That, or he was too strong.

To be honest, he was really , really strong.

“Gojo! Put me down!” She shrieked, kicking her legs and wriggling in protest.

“No way.” He cheerfully stomped toward the exit with inflated pride. “This king is escorting his queen.”

The sight left the fangirls fuming as Satoru paraded his way out of the cafeteria and his girlfriend flailed helplessly on his shoulder.

“Gojo Satoru! I swear you’re going to regret this as soon as you let me down!” She yelled, her voice filled with more exasperation than actual anger. But to no avail. Because he would be savoring this moment until they were far away from all these young hags, knowing quite well that the only retaliation Utahime would take from him would be a reluctant yet sweet kiss.

Gojo Kaede was as charming as she was emotionally lethal.

Every step she took was carefully deliberated, and every conversation she held was meant to embosom the foundations of a greater good.

Thus, when she dismissed Ijichi Haruta from his shift with a smile that made the man shiver with wariness, she was already ruminating on how to proceed with all the information he had kept for so many years.

Ijichi-san was a single father, abandoned by his girlfriend during his youth after the birth of his only son, Kiyotaka. He had served the Gojo family’s interests long before Gojo Sora married Tadashi Kaede and Satoru was even born.

He had been Sora’s right hand once—a man whose loyalty had been valued and his discretion trusted. But after the Gojo clan’s head’s passing, Kaede had ensured Ijichi-san’s demotion to a mere assistant, stripping him of the privileges and trust he once had yet keeping him close, for firing him outright would have led to the arrival of something disastrous.

Because, regardless of his insecure personality and meek demeanor, Ijichi Haruta had some aces up his sleeves.

He knew secrets.

Secrets about certain things nobody could ever know that unsettled Gojo Kaede, being forced to act thoughtfully and meticulously careful around this man.

Secrets that she had to keep in the shadows, one way or another.

She poured two glasses of the finest Spanish wine as Ieiri Shuhei stepped into her office, unannounced yet expected, some seconds after Ijichi left. The doctor settled into his usual seat beside her, getting comfortable and crossing his legs with indifference.

The woman handed him a glass, her smile as sober and cold as the crystal in her hand.

“Is there any particular reason for this reunion, Gojo-san?” Shuhei asked, swirling the contents of his glass before tasting a sip with his signature finesse.

“As you know, Ieiri-san, I feel an excessive aversion for equivocating; hence, I’ll get straight to the point. Ijichi-san has been acting rather restless lately.”

The doctor set his glass down before replying. “What’s new? The man has always been a nervous wreck.”

“And you’re not mistaken,” Kaede agreed, her fingers drumming elegantly and impatiently on the wooden executive desk. “But something about it is starting to bother me.”

“He’s worked for your family for decades. And he’s kept for himself everything he knows about what we did. Do you think that has changed? He won’t risk himself or his son by opening his mouth.”

“Nevertheless, I don’t trust him.”

“That makes two of us,” he admitted.

“I’ve come to think that we made a potential mistake leaving him alive back then.”

“Well, my lady, we couldn’t risk having another… accident in the count.”

She tapped a manicured finger against the rim of her glass, staring absently at some point in the room. “Perhaps it’s time we… press him?”

“Press?” Shuhei asked, raising a brow. But when he met her gaze, the meaning in her green orbs was crystal clear. “Ah. And what leverage do you suggest?”

“His son, maybe?”

The doctor considered the idea, humming. “A direct approach might make him desperate, and it will surely put us in a predicament.” He leaned back in his seat as he watched her closely. “Desperate men are unpredictable, and we can’t expose ourselves to that threat.”

“Then we must ensure he remains as compliant as ever.”

The fireplace light flickered in front of the couple, throwing mild shadows across their hard expressions as a heavy pause settled between them.

“What if… that compliance fails?”

Kaede’s gaze remained unwavering, and she took a sip of her wine. “Then we reconsider our options.”

“Allow me to guess, you have all sides covered already. Am I mistaken?”

“As usual, you’re not.”

He chuckled with a deep, knowing sound. “As pragmatic as ever.”

“And you’ve always known when and how to act.” Her reply was dry, devoid of any emotion, as she sipped on her glass once more.

Distractedly, Shuhei watched how the dark liquid in his cup caught the light. “But that’s not the only thing on your mind tonight, is it?”

She remained poised, but the subtle roll of her eyes gave her away.

He knew her too well. Much better than her deceased husband ever did…

“Hmm, nothing I can’t control. But it seems my son has taken a particular interest in a certain girl, and the situation unsettles me greatly.”

The woman exhaled, setting her glass down with careful precision.

“Ah. Teen affairs. I could hear some rumors, but you know I’m not interested in the frivolities of today’s media.”

Kaede scoffed, more to herself than to him. “I guess I underestimated how much noise this would make.”

“You don’t seem pleased.”

The man drank the rest of his wine, reaching for the bottle to pour himself a second glass.

Her jaw tightened, but her expression softened swiftly after. “It’s not a matter of displeasure, but rather of expectations. His future.”

“And who’s the girl in question for this to be so unsettling to you? Knowing Satoru-kun as well as I know him, he must be dating some kind of future idol or rising TV star.”

“That’s exactly the issue. She’s nothing like that, and he seems to be totally infatuated. She’s just some ordinary girl with an odd name, Utahime, ” she mused, tasting the name on her tongue like a bitter beverage.

“Oh,” the doctor hummed. “Shoko’s chemistry tutor. “Nothing extraordinary, indeed. A humble girl, diligent and smart, even—but hardly the kind of match I would expect for your son.”

“A distraction. And not the type of company I wish for him to have.”

“And yet, your son is nothing if not… persistent. If he wants something, he gets it. Exactly like his mother. How can you act against a force that matches yours just as strongly?”

Kaede exhaled slowly. Her fingers drummed now against the polished wood of her desk. “He’s a child. He’ll get over it.”

Shuhei chuckled, his voice sounding an octave lower for the amount of alcohol he was ingesting.

As for Mrs. Gojo, her breath hitched so subtly that she hid it behind the steady melodies of her own respiration.

“Do you actually believe that?” The doctor looked at her with deep, dilated pupils.

“My son’s path is already set. A silly high-school romance won’t change that.”

Shuhei smirked over the rim of his glass. “Still, I can only imagine how irritating this is for you, knowing that the poor girl might be a gold digger.”

She let out a dry laugh. “Irritating? Please. It’s an inconvenience. One that will resolve itself sooner than later.”

Shuhei remained silent for a moment and poured her a second cup. Finally, he spoke. “You’re worried.”

She shot him a warning glance, but he only chuckled. “It’s written all over your face. You think this girl could actually pose a problem, don’t you?”

Kaede scoffed and met his gaze with unwavering intensity. “Satoru is his father’s son. Sora used to believe that he had some kind of… moral obligation to humanity to help those in need. And much to my disappointment, Satoru can be as soft as him at times. If I don’t control this, it could easily become a problem.”

“What do you plan to do about it, then?”

The woman stretched her neck, as if stressed. “For now, I’ll wait. I’m observing, letting him play his little game.” She took a slow sip of her wine before adding, “And when the time comes, I’ll remind that girl exactly where she belongs.”

Shuhei shook his head, chuckling. “I’ve always admired your coldheadedness.”

She arched a brow. “I’m just too realistic and practical, my dear Ieiri-san. If I can’t control it, I don’t want it.”

A smile tugged at his lips, but this time there was something growing darker in his eyes. “Yet all your control doesn’t keep you away from having me here with you, drinking wine.”

Her fingers traced lazily the rim of his cup, watching him as intently as he did.

“Do you think this isn’t under my control, Shuhei?”

“And you’re playing a dangerous game thinking I can act like your little plaything whenever you want, Kaede.”

The shift in his voice sent a ripple through her system, the tension stretching thinner.

“Well, don’t commit the same mistake my late husband made, thinking you can subdue me.”

His laugh was low, amused, but there was a more sinister note behind it. “Perhaps I’ve always enjoyed that kind of danger. But as far as I remember, you’ve been quite good to me under the sheets.”

She leaned forward delicately, her perfume reaching him—subtle, expensive, intoxicating. “Oh? Is that so?”

Shuhei’s jaw tightened, unable to ignore the calculating force that was Gojo Kaede—powerful, untouchable to anyone who wasn’t him. The kind of force that had rendered him strengthless for years. And right now, she was daring him, provoking him again with nothing but the slow tilt of her head and the knowing curve of her soft lips.

His hand curled around the glass, knuckles whitening.

“Hope there isn’t anyone outside.” His voice was rougher now.

“I can assure you nobody else is here in this building but us.”

Something in him snapped.

In a swift motion, the doctor set his glass aside and closed the space between them, capturing the woman’s mouth in a fierce, claiming kiss. Her hands found his shoulders, and his found her waist, pulling her up against him and swallowing with his throat a gasp that escaped her lips.

With little time to react, Kaede found herself being lifted, her back now pressed against the cool surface of the wide mahogany desk.

The wine bottle and glasses rattled, and the firelight flickered behind them.

As their mouths moved hungrily against each other and Shuhei’s hands explored her frame with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down her spine, the woman indulged—once more—in the dangerous game they had both been playing for far too long.

The crisp early January air bit at Utahime’s cheeks as she stared at the picture in her hands. Satoru and she stood closely next to each other with the Hakuba mountains behind. It was a physical memento of their first Christmas date, with a happy Satoru holding one of his ski poles up in the air with one hand and the other around his girlfriend as he grinned pridefully. Their ski goggles rested up on their heads for the photo, and the sunlight reflected on them had helped Utahime hide the faint blush that attacked her cheeks when he circled her waist to bring her closer. 

Out of all the photos she kept from her father and grandma, this one with Satoru belonged, without a doubt, to the group of memories she cherished the most.

She was waiting for her choir practice to start, the classes already over. Dressed in her winter uniform and a scarf covering her from neck to nose, she sat on a bench in the school’s inner yard, putting the photo away inside one of her notebooks to keep it safe. Shoko reappeared soon after, bringing two cans of hot cocoa from one of the vending machines.

“Thank you,” she muttered, receiving one of the cans in her hands and popping it open to sip some of the contents and help her body get warm. “But don’t you have to go to your club meeting now, Shoko?”

The short-haired girl shrugged, following her suit with her own drink. “Not in the mood. I’ll skip it today, Senpai. By the way, what was this thing you wanted to tell me about?”

Utahime let out a deep sigh, her fingers curling around the edge of her scarf.

“Well… I don’t know where to start. But let’s say this thing with Gojo is making me feel uneasy.”

Her friend glanced at her, her voice forming cold clouds of breath. “Because he’s Gojo Satoru or because of all the media fuss?”

Utahime hesitated. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t like being with him… It’s just… Okay, listen: I knew being with him would bring attention, but I didn’t expect it to be this much.”

“Did they follow you to your house or something?” Shoko’s voice came laced with concern.

“Oh no, I hope they never… But there have been photographers outside the school gates as soon as we came back from the winter break. And the rumors and whisperings in the corridors don’t seem to dwindle any time soon. I don’t like it, Shoko. It’s too much.”

“Eh, it’ll pass,” Shoko declared, leaning against the bench. “The media is like a fickle brat. They latch onto something, make a big deal out of it, and then forget about it two weeks later when something shinier comes along. And voilà , you’re free from the leeches.”

“Have you…” Utahime exhaled and sipped. “Have you ever been in a magazine or on TV before?”

“Well, a few times,” Shoko admitted, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Mostly because of something related to my dad’s hospital or any stupid lavish party he wanted to take me to. Sometimes they do features on him. I was in one of those articles once, actually.”

“And how did you deal with it?”

“I didn’t.” The girl shrugged again. “I just ignored it, and eventually, they moved on. That’s what you should do too. The more you worry, the more they will haunt you.”

Utahime pursed her lips, unconvinced. But before she could say something, a pair of arms suddenly draped over Shoko’s shoulders from behind.

“Talking about me?” Suguru harrumphed as he straddled the bench and pulled his girlfriend against him so she sat between his legs.

“Absolutely not.” Shoko barely reacted, used to his sudden affectionate appearances. “We were talking about Utahime-senpai’s rise to stardom.”

Suguru whistled in amusement, resting his chin on Shoko’s shoulder. “Ah, the struggle of dating a walking headline.” He glanced at the older girl. “Getting sick of it already, Senpai?”

Slumping against the bench, Utahime groaned. “Ah, you hit the bull’s eye, Geto-kun.”

Suguru chuckled. “Well, it’s a given when you’re with him. Being his friends, we’ve suffered it too. But if it makes you feel better, it won’t last long. Journalists and paparazzi are like vultures: they’ll fly off once there’s fresher meat.”

“That’s what I said,” Shoko chirped in.

“What about you?” Utahime asked, looking now at her kohai. “Have you ever been in the media?”

Suguru leaned back and brought Shoko with him. “Gotta say yes. When my dad won the lottery and we became rich, reporters wouldn’t leave us alone. They became a complete nuisance. We had to learn a few tricks to keep them off our backs.”

“That’s why he hates journalists,” Shoko commented.

“ Hate is a strong word, babe.” Suguru tilted his head. But his focus went back to Utahime. “Let’s just say I have no patience for people who stick their noses where they don’t belong.”

Utahime nodded, storing all that information away. The conversation shifted for a while to random school topics until Shoko clapped her hands together.

“Anyway, let’s talk about something fun!” She turned to Utahime with a mischievous glint in her brown eyes. “Your birthday’s coming up, Senpai.”

“Huh?”

“We’re spending it at the Geto beach house. Suguru’s parents said it was fine.”

Shoko’s statement almost left her speechless, having said it as if it were set in stone. Utahime sat up.

“I never agreed to that.”

Shoko waved a dismissive hand. “Sorry, Senpai. I know you’d say this because you’re always so polite about declining things, but I’m telling you now—you’re not getting a no option. And don’t worry about going to a beach house during early spring. We’ll do everything inside the house.”

Suguru nodded. “Yeah. I asked my mom about it and she happily said yes. We’ve already planned it, Senpai. Just accept your fate.”

Utahime groaned, rubbing her temples. “Was this Satoru’s idea?” And when her friends exchanged knowing looks, she needed no other answer. “Look, I really don’t need a big thing for my birthday. Besides, if I don’t pass the test, I won’t have any reasons to celebrate.”

“We’re pretty sure you’ll exceed your own expectations, Senpai. You’ll do great, and after that we’ll have two whole reasons to celebrate.”

Utahime wanted to argue, but the way they were looking at her—completely unwavering—made her realize she was fighting a losing battle.

“Fine,” she muttered. “But no extravagant or shiny parties, okay? I’m not used to any of that and I will never be.”

“Of course!” Shoko smirked. “Would we ever do that to you?”

The girl scowled. “I’m not sure if I should trust you guys.”

Suguru snickered without saying anything, which made her more suspicious. But she decided to change the topic before they could get any more ideas.

“By the way, where’s Satoru? I haven’t seen him again since the morning meeting today.”

The statics through the school’s loudspeakers disrupted the afternoon peace before a voice startled the remaining students inside the building.

“TO ALL THE MEMBERS OF THE POLYPHONY CLUB: TODAY’S CHOIR REHEARSAL HAS BEEN SUSPENDED UNTIL NEXT WEEK. KOBAYASHI-SENSEI HAD TO LEAVE THE SCHOOL FACILITIES EARLIER. THANK YOU FOR YOUR ATTENTION.”

“Oh.” Utahime felt somehow relieved by the turn of events. Having some free time before the expected always felt good.

Suguru stretched his arms behind his head. “Baseball training.”

“Again? He had one yesterday.” She replied, outraged, even.

“Seems that there’ll be a local tournament by the end of the school year. He knew it today and now they’ll have to double the training times.”

Utahime nodded, picking up her bag and standing up as she dusted off her skirt. “I’ll go see him and study there in the meantime. He will have to explain this whole birthday stuff. Bye, guys.”

“Don’t study too hard, but dress him down as if your life depended on it!” Shoko called after her, joking.

“That’s a deal.” Utahime walked away with a smile, leaving her two friends behind.

If she was honest with herself, well, she had missed Satoru the whole day. And studying for the test while watching one of his trainings didn’t seem a bad option to spend the rest of the afternoon.

With the National Center Test and the Tokyo Schools Baseball Tournament around the corner, Satoru and Utahime barely had time to see each other by mid-January. Their schedules were packed—hers with relentless studying, his with intense training—but he still found glimpses of time to slip into her world.

Sometimes, it was just to banter over a quick snack, share an ice cream, or steal a few minutes of kisses and laughter between classes. Other times, it was sneaking into her room late at night with Mochi trotting behind him, watching as she studied until exhaustion took over. And when that finally happened, he would just carry her to bed, tuck her in, and press the sweetest kiss on her forehead before going home.

In return, Utahime would leave small tokens of gratitude—homemade chocolate cupcakes in his bag, a quick peck on his cheek before first period, or, more often than not, it was a frustrated grunt at his antics because he couldn’t help getting on her nerves.

Sometimes, it was just humming in response to his nonstop yapping about the randomest things while he kept her company. No matter how much she ignored him for her books, he refused to let her feel alone.

She spent two whole weeks drowning in textbooks like a bookworm, barely acknowledging the world outside. But he waited patiently until the big day came, offering to take her to the exam location and pick her up afterward.

Luckily for them, and as Suguru and Shoko had predicted, the media had lost their interest in them some days ago. No more cameras, no more articles—only silence. For now, at least, the Gojo heir and his girlfriend would be free from prying eyes.

As for the national test, the results came sooner than expected.

Utahime’s hands trembled as she opened the envelope and unfolded the paper, scanning the words and numbers with wide eyes. Her heart pounded wildly. And for a moment, she thought she had read it wrong.

But no. The results were clear. Exceeding her own expectations, she had scored one of the highest places in the city rank, which automatically earned her a spot at the University of Tokyo and a scholarship with full tuition.

With her heart swirling between excitement and disbelief, she choked a scream in the solitude of the cafeteria kitchen she worked at. She had done it.

The first person she went out to call—before thinking about anyone else—was Satoru.

She got in the cabin, still wearing her work apron and lifting the receiver to insert the coins and dial his number. In spite of the snow outside and the wintry currents of air that gnawed at her guts, a gush of warmth invaded her system as she waited for him to reply.

The moment he picked up, after being notified by one of his maids, she blurted out. “I did it.”

Silence.

And then—

“ I KNEW IT!” His cheer of triumph nearly burst her eardrum. “ I knew you’d do it, Hime! You’re a genius! I told you, didn’t I ?”

Utahime smiled, hearing him shout in celebration.

“ But please, tell me you’re choosing Tokyo over Kyoto, baby… ” Satoru paused, waiting for her answer.

“Hmm… I’m not really sure…” She teased. But she hurried to tell him the truth at the sound of his defeated sigh. “Of course I’m choosing Tokyo, you dummy.”

“ Hell yes! I’m glad you’re staying here. Oof, I didn’t want to have you so far away and deal with a long-distance relationship! ”

She rolled her eyes, yet her cheeks remained warm. “That’s what you’re happy about?”

“ Of course! What, did you think I’d let you escape me that easily? ”

“Satoru, you’re an idiot.”

“ Nah, I just want what’s mine to remain close. ”

“Am I yours then?” The word made something coil low in her guts. And in spite of the cocky chuckle that escaped his throat and reached her ears, the warmth inside and her smile didn’t disappear.

“ Of course. You’re my girlfriend, and the most gorgeous and smart girl in the entire fucking world. ”

“You know, flattery doesn’t work with me, okay?”

They bantered a little more until he got serious, their laughter fading. “ For real, Hime. I feel proud of you. ”

Pride.

It had been years since the last time someone felt proud of her.

Her lower lip quivered, but she did her best to drown the sob that had started pooling in her eyes.

“ Hime? Are you okay? ”

“Yeah. I’m—I’m fine. Gotta go back to work.”

“ I’ll pick you up. Let me treat you to celebrate this, so wait for me in the cafeteria, okay? Don’t go home just yet. ”

“Okay.”

And when they said their goodbyes, the tears she had been holding back finally rolled down her cheeks.

As she went through her shift, she would find herself glancing at the clock more than usual, her chest bubbling with anticipation.

Because for the first time in a long while, someone was waiting to celebrate her .

With his girlfriend’s success secured, Satoru focused on the upcoming challenge that the baseball tournament meant.

He trained harder than ever, almost every day, but not even his relentless practice was an obstacle for him to plan the perfect celebration. His girlfriend deserved one, more than just a simple congratulations.

So, making sure everything was set for that day, he booked the Geto family beach house along with Suguru, organized the trip, and ensured that the few Utahime’s classmates she liked would be there. By the time they finished studying for the final exams, everything would be ready. And one week later, they were on their way to Okinawa to spend the whole weekend there, free from adults and responsibilities.

Of course, Suguru’s parents would be there too, at least for a day, first, to make sure everyone behaved during the celebration and second, to help the young guests return to Tokyo when everything was over. Amanai Riko was one of them, gifting Utahime a Marc Jacobs winter collection bag that the birthday girl almost rejected out of shame for being an expensive present. But Riko waved off her concerns, leaving no room to refuse it.

But the girl left early, in spite of all the attempts from Utahime’s side for her to stay a little more. For Amanai, the sight of seeing her elementary/middle school crush being all lovey-dovey with his girlfriend was painful to witness, but she was happy to be with her senpai nonetheless.

The party was a success, despite the few attendees. Satoru had gone all out—warm lights, music, decorations, good food, and a G-clef-shaped cake in honor of Utahime’s music skills.

They played board games, others danced, and a few, including Shoko, enjoyed the drinks that one of them had somehow managed to sneak in. They all had fun until it was time to go, and Mr. and Mrs. Geto left their son and his friends in the house so they could have it all for themselves until Sunday evening.

When everything got quieter, Utahime went to the balcony. The air felt cool and salty, and she could admire from a distance the early blooming of the cherry blossoms in Okinawa, their petals wandering adrift after the currents of late winter made them fall off. She was turning 19 today, and it all felt unreal—the breathtaking sight, the party that had just ended, and being here, celebrated.

She wondered if this was just a dream. If she would wake up anytime soon and see that it had been nothing else than her own imagination.

But Satoru found her easily, in time to save her from her own mind.

He handed her a plate with a huge slice of cake that seemed more for being shared than eaten by one. “Here’s our birthday girl. Not hiding away from your own party, are you?”

She scoffed, taking the plate. “Just needed some fresh air to reload my social battery.”

“Oh, I thought my girlfriend was a merrymaker.” Satoru winked at her and stole a bite of her cake before she could protest. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah… I did.”

“You had a lot of presents.”

“Especially that TV you gave me… It was too much, Satoru.”

“Hey, you deserved it. You’ve worked hard and the one your grandma gave you is no longer working.”

Utahime nodded, blushing. “I’m not really used to it.”

“Well, you better start doing it.”

A pair of cherry blossom petals got stuck in his hair, and she removed them gently as she spoke.

But noticing how much pink suited the whiteness of his hair, she put them back, making him smile.

“Ah, let’s take it easy. I don’t want you to be solving my problems. Besides, I didn’t really need a TV.”

“But I wanted to. And that’s nothing compared to what I really want to give you, Hime. You deserve the entire world.”

Taking her plate away from her hands, Satoru got closer until he was towering over her.

Utahime looked up, half swallowing her bite of cake, half feeling shy. She had always loved the way his profile got brightened under the moonlight, giving him an ethereal glow that made him look dreamlike.

His snowy hair, tousled by the gentle ocean breeze, shimmered under the soft light, and his blue orbs held a warmth that made her heart stutter every time he looked at her.

“Like what you see?” He grinned.

Utahime scowled, flustered. “You wish.”

“Ah, you can’t deny that I’m a prince, and only a princess like you is worthy of having me as her boyfriend.”

“Satoru, could you stop being so—”

Before she could continue her lecture, he dipped down and brushed his lips against hers in a slow kiss. She stiffened but melted into him real quick, with her hands resting against his chest. His crisp pine and citrus-like scent wrapped her in a dizzying comfort as they deepened the kiss.

But suddenly, a muffled noise coming from one of the rooms on the second floor stole their attention. Then, a rhythmic thud and a weak giggle, and then—

“ Ah, Suguru! ”

Utahime’s eyes snapped open. They pulled back, furrowing in confusion. Another noise followed right after—quiet laughter and something unmistakably intimate.

“ Wait, wait… I think I’m having a cramp. Why don’t you ride me now? ”

Shoko’s breathless voice followed Suguru’s with something they couldn’t discern. That was how it clicked for them.

Their friends were definitely having sex in Suguru’s bedroom.

“Oh, my god!” Utahime stepped back abruptly, her face turning the deepest shade of red.

Satoru blinked, still processing. “Wait, are they…”

A loud creak. A muffled moan.

“Oh, fuck!”

Fuck , indeed.

How the hell could they be so noisy? How could they dare to do that here ?

Satoru felt a pang of jealousy that was swiftly replaced by Utahime’s sudden voice.

“Satoru, I—. Good night!” She blurted, turning on her heel and rushing inside.

“Wait, Hime!”

But she was already gone. And he was left behind, standing alone on the balcony, with a mix of confusion and disappointment settling over him.

“Damn it, you two.” He exhaled, darting off to his bedroom.

The moment Utahime closed the bedroom door behind her, she pressed her hands against her face, mortified.

She had heard that happening. She had witnessed it. Not with her eyes, thank goodness. But still. She wasn’t clueless about sex, so she knew what had happened behind that door. And yet, hearing her friends doing that so abashedly, so naturally, had stirred something inside her that scared her beyond measure.

The worst of all? It had happened while she was kissing Satoru.

She flopped onto the bed and groaned, burying her face into the pillow. Embarrassment ate at her guts, but her mind was betraying her. It replayed over and over again the way her boyfriend had looked at her under the moonlight, his warm lips against hers, his scent, and the closeness of his body…

It replayed, as well, the incident back in Shoko’s party.

His muscles, his skin, his…

Her stomach twisted, and she squeezed her thighs together at the odd sensation that crept through her core.

No.

No, no, no, no.

She wasn’t willing to give in. She refused to give in. But the more she tried to push her memories and thoughts away, the stronger they got in the back of her mind.

What if… What if…

What if it were us instead of them? What if Satoru touched me like that? What if I touched him and it was his name coming out of my mouth...?

She shook her head almost violently, as if it could help her get rid of these thoughts. She was resolved not to do this.

But her body begged to differ.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she threw herself under the covers to focus on anything else, anything but the bubbling heat in her belly. And she would fall into a restless sleep, battling against the foreign desire that burned her insides.

This very night, she would discover the meaning of what a wet dream was.

As for Satoru, he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling and running a hand through his hair.

This wasn’t the first time he had to deal with this, but he had tried hard to control himself before.

He shifted against the sheets, with Utahime’s scent running fresh in his memory. He had been good; he had respected her boundaries and felt content with having her close and kissing her until their mouths ran dry. And he was happy with that. Satoru would never ask from her more than she could give.

But now… Damn it. What he heard from his friends’ room while having her so close, the way her breath hitched when he kissed her…

It had been too, too much.

Satoru exhaled sharply, closing his eyes as his mind wandered back to their moment on the balcony. His hands itched to touch her and feel the way she fit so perfectly against him, to trace the velvet contours of her body while she whined quietly in his ear…

His hand moved on its own, his breathing growing heavier. He bit back a frustrated curse, surrendering hopelessly to the images in his head—the heat and sweat of her skin, the cute, heaven-like noises she would make…

It didn’t take him long to reach his climax as he let out a deep sigh, feeling irrevocably guilty in the aftermath of his solo affair.

Should he stop this?

Should he avoid the way his girlfriend made him feel and ignore every pang of desire from now on?

He couldn’t tell her about this—not yet. Utahime was too shy, too inexperienced.

One day, perhaps, things could move forward between them. One day, perhaps, she’d be his without restraints.

For now, he’d just wait.

Breakfast was awkward the next morning.

Shoko didn’t wake up until it was time to eat, and Suguru went straight to the kitchen after getting up from bed.

During the first minutes, Utahime avoided everyone’s gaze like her life depended on it, focusing on her western-like meal—a lot of cheese sandwiches with fruit and orange juice made by Suguru, because he was too lazy to cook and have a proper breakfast. Satoru, for his part, remained silent, with his usual cocky demeanor noticeably dimmed.

His girlfriend had ignored him the whole morning.

And their friends, of course, noticed immediately.

“Hey, guys, if you could hear what we did last night, I apologize.” The black-haired boy leaned back in his chair with a hand to his chest.

Utahime choked on her juice.

Satoru groaned. “Yeah, sure.”

“Did we scare you off, Senpai?” Shoko asked, sitting next to her boyfriend.

The girl in question didn’t look up. “No… It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, too. We can be quite… loud .”

“Oh, my god,” the oldest girl muttered, burying her face in her hands.

Shoko wanted to giggle, but her friend was still too innocent for that, and she didn’t want to embarrass her further.

“You guys ruined our moment, too, by the way,” Satoru chirped in. He dropped his fork on his plate, already satisfied.

Suguru blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, I was kissing my girlfriend until we heard you two.”

“Can you just drop it?” Utahime warned them, already flustered and mortified enough to raise her voice at the table. Suguru went quiet, and Satoru, hurt by her silent treatment, frowned before leaving.

She wanted to follow him, but Shoko took her hand and stood up. “C’mon, Senpai. Let’s talk.”

Suguru was left alone, and he soon heard the noises of his Nintendo console from the living room after Satoru turned it on.

The girls went outside, and Shoko leaned against the porch railing, lighting a cig as she studied her friend’s still-flushed face.

“So,” she started. “You wanna talk about last night?”

“Not really.” Utahime almost groaned in frustration.

“Oh, come on, Senpai.” Shoko smirked. “You’re not that innocent. Are you?”

“I just—” Utahime hesitated, looking away with a pout. “I’ve never done that, and much less heard it before. And I didn’t expect to. It was… uncomfortable.”

“Well, now you have.” Shoko took a puff of her cig. “And guess what? It’s normal. Look, I don’t think it’s proper for me to lecture you about this when you’re the oldest among us, but you’re in a relationship now, senpai. Your thing with Gojo will happen, eventually.”

Utahime stiffened. “Shoko, I—”

“Okay, I know it. I know you’ve never experienced that. And it can be odd at first, shameful, even, to talk about it. But once you’re in, sex is no longer a big deal. I mean, it is, but not the terrifying act you’re imagining.”

“I don’t know…”

“Trust me. I bet you’ve thought about it, haven’t you?”

Utahime’s silence was answer enough.

Shoko smirked knowingly. If her role was to play the serpent of the paradise, then so be it.

“See?” She continued. “There’s nothing wrong about being curious. And there’s no rush either. But you should know something: intimacy isn’t just about sex. You and Gojo should start exploring each other first, recognizing each other’s bodies before taking that step. Which I guess you guys haven’t, given how flustered you get at the mention of it.”

“Can we just stop for now, Shoko? This is stressing me out.” Her face burned.

“I’m serious. Take your time, but don’t be afraid of it. Sex is part of being in love.”

Staring at the ocean, Utahime swallowed.

In love .

Perhaps she hadn’t measured the implications of this. Perhaps she didn’t think much about the overwhelming feelings she harbored for Satoru out of pure panic, but she couldn’t keep denying to name them any longer.

She was in love with him.

And as Shoko walked away, she was sure that time would give her the answer she had started seeking.

For now, it was time to pack the suitcases for their trip back to Tokyo in a few hours. Her birthday had been a success, just like Satoru expected and she never imagined. However, she spent the rest of the day avoiding her boyfriend again, too ashamed to let him in. And that wouldn’t change until late afternoon, when the group started waiting for Mr. and Mrs. Geto to pick them all up.

Sitting on the bed, knees drawn to her chest, Utahime exhaled as she stared at nothing in particular. Her mind was a tangled mess, but a knock at the door crashed against her train of thought.

“Come in,” she called softly.

The familiar mop of unruly white hair she knew so well crossed the threshold when the door slid open as he stepped in. He was wearing sweatpants, a loose shirt, his signature sunglasses, and his hair was tousled as if he had just rolled out of bed.

For a moment, Utahime found herself staring.

He looked effortlessly beautiful, as always.

She scooted over as he came closer and sat beside her on the bed.

“Did you pack everything?” He asked. There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

“Yeah.”

A brief silence between them choired the chirping sea sounds outside. But Satoru replaced it swiftly with a huff, craning his neck.

“And will you keep avoiding me again until we get to Tokyo?”

Utahime was the one to exhale this time, biting her lower lip. “I’m sorry…” She whispered. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

She shook her head. “Not now.”

Another pause.

“Don’t you think it’d be easier if we spoke it out?”

She hesitated, picking at the hem of the bedsheets before finally speaking. “I’m nervous.”

“About what?”

“About… us.”

His brow furrowed, but it softened right away. “What about us?”

“I have the feeling that you already know, so stop pressing me, Satoru.” She was so serious and she had scowled so hard that he couldn’t help a chuckle. “Why are you laughing!?”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Hime, hear me out.”

Utahime sighed, forcing a glare. It was impossible not to melt under his charm, and she was doing her best not to succumb. “Well, go on.”

“I just wanted you to know that whatever made you uncomfortable since last night, well, we’re not in a race. We’re not following some kind of rulebook. We just… are .”

She lifted the invisible veil that separated them as she looked down, her scowl fading. It took her some seconds to process his words.

Cupping her cheek, Satoru tilted her face up to meet his gaze. “If you’ve felt pressured in any way after what we heard from Suguru and Shoko, well, don’t. I don’t need you to do anything you’re not. I’m happy with everything we have. I’m happy with everything we are.”

Utahime’s breath hitched.

He always knew the exact words she needed to hear. And it melted away her nerves, spreading warmth through her chest. “Satoru…”

Smiling, he leaned in and pressed a kiss on her forehead.

“It’s okay, Hime. I promise it’s okay.”

And it was all it took for something inside her to crack open and spill a rush of emotions in her guts. The girl shifted, closing the distance between them to capture his lips in a slow, tender kiss.

His hand slid down to grip her waist, firmly yet carefully, afraid that she could move back. But for once, much to his surprise, she didn’t shy away from the contact.

Utahime leaned into him, tangling her fingers into his hair as their hearts raced and their breaths mixed within a deeper kiss. His lips started trailing lower, pressing fluttering kisses to the curve of her neck that tore off soft gasps from her throat and sent shivers down her spine.

The feeling was new. Foreign. Unutterable. Enthralling. Electrifying.

And she didn’t pull away.

His fingers brushed just beneath the hem of her shirt, warm against her flesh. But he didn’t push.

He waited, letting her decide.

Utahime’s body responded before her mind did. And she pressed closer, offering him a silent permission to go north and touch a little more, just before his hands could dangerously reach the slope of her already aroused breasts.

His grip on her waist tightened for a second before he caught her lips again, this time more frantic, until it grew slower.

Neither of them crossed the line. It was not the right time.

Just as easily as they lost themselves in each other for a while, they found the strength to pull back.

Breathing heavily, they pressed their foreheads together, their lips curling into a tender smile.

“I think we’re ridiculous,” he murmured, teasing.

Utahime let out a breathless chuckle. “I think you might be right.”

They stayed there for a moment, hearts racing and bodies still humming with the aftershocks of their touch.

The early Okinawan cherry blossoms swayed outside, their petals already unfolded before time—just like the desire that bloomed between them at a steady pace.

And just like the cherry blossoms, they would wait for the right season to fully bloom.

For now, they were content the way they were.

Chapter Text

Little traces of the Haru Matsuri still roamed across the city — ikebana booths, paper oni masks peeking from storefronts, and some remnants of roasted soybeans scattered near temple steps. Late February’s icy air carried the scent of early spring as Satoru walked with his girlfriend after school and treated her to ice cream before heading to his house that Friday afternoon.

It had been quite a long week, studying for the final tests that would come in March to seal the end of the school year. And then, Utahime would finally become part of the alumni of the Sugawara Academy.

Despite how proud Satoru felt of her, he didn't want to think much about the fact that she would leave soon.

This was the second time she visited the Gojo estate, but now, without the distraction of a grand party, blinding lights and all the luxury, she could finally take in the sheer scale of the place with new eyes under the daylight. The traditional but elegant halls, the expensive woodwork, and the quiet, heavy air of wealth—it all had left her stunned.

“Still can’t believe you live here,” she murmured, toeing off her shoes at the genkan after stepping inside.

Satoru grinned, leaving his shoes next to hers and taking his sunglasses off. “I can’t believe you live in a place where the walls are thin enough to hear the neighbors sneeze.”

Utahime scowled, ready to retort, but Mochi appeared, bounding toward them, his tail wagging like a propeller.

“Mochi!” The girl kneeled to hug him. “I missed you so much!”

Barking enthusiastically, Mochi licked her face. Satoru huffed. “He was devastated when I told him he would miss your birthday. But stomach flu hit him like a truck.”

“Oh, baby. Did they treat you well at the daycare? Are you better now?” Utahime scratched behind his ears.

“Yes, Mommy. But I wanted to go to Okinawa and eat some cake, and Daddy didn’t let me.” Satoru mocked Mochi, speaking in falsetto .

“Ah, I knew he was a bad dad.”

“Hey, don’t say that to our kid!” Satoru complained as the pup greeted him. “Come on, big boy!” He picked him up, the three of them sprinting ahead toward his bedroom. He guided his girlfriend through the halls, and a couple of maids greeted them to let the young master know that dinner would be served soon.

Once inside the room, Mochi wasted no time jumping onto his dad’s bed, belly up and begging for attention. Utahime chuckled, feeling a sudden shyness as her eyes scanned the whole place.

The walls carried his scent, and every corner spoke of his presence.

And then she spotted the picture they had taken during their first official date occupying the widest space of the nightstand next to his bed. The sight made Utahime smile, and butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

But brushing her thoughts off, she joined Mochi and ran her fingers through his soft fur.

Satoru flopped beside her, sighing dramatically. Now that he was in his room, he felt comfortable enough to take his glasses off without worrying about the amount of light. “We’ve adopted a lazy kid.”

“You’re the lazy one.”

He nudged her playfully. “Actually, I’m a great dad. And we’d have the cutest kids.”

The words left his mouth before he could think of it, but he didn’t regret saying them. Not really.

Utahime stiffened for a second. Not because she disliked the idea—but because it was too easy to imagine.

Too dangerous. Too soon. Too wonderful.

A future with a home for the two of them. She could see it too vividly—Mochi barking at little feet running across the tatami floor and Satoru’s laughter filling the air as he teased a child with white tufts of hair.

As for Satoru, he could see it, too.

But neither of them said a word about it.

Instead, Utahime’s focus diverted back to Mochi, petting him a little longer, as if trying to ground herself to the present.

Satoru did the same, watching her with a soft gleam in his eyes.

After some seconds of playing with their pup, Utahime straightened to take her uniform jacket off. Her pigtails fell over her shoulders again as she spoke. “Is your mom home?”

Satoru hesitated before replying and propped himself up on his elbows. “No. Why do you think Mochi is here? She’s out, as usual. And it’s better like that.”

She sighed, understanding the troubled feelings he harbored for his mother.

A beat of silence passed before she turned her head to him. “Do you… miss her?”

Satoru sighed.

“Not really.” It took him some more to speak again. “Would you like to meet her?”

The girl blinked.

Introducing a romantic partner to one’s parents had never been a small thing here. It meant serious commitment—the bind of a bow, the promise of a future together.

Utahime weighed her words carefully before letting them out. “Whatever you want, it’s okay.”

Satoru ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “I would like to. Someday.” He hesitated. “But I must warn you: she’s not a nice woman.”

She had heard things from Shoko before. The way his mother overwhelmed him and worked him up had never left her mind, and now that she was dating him, she wondered what would happen the day she had to face the woman who had given birth to Gojo Satoru.

“I mean,” he continued. “She would never kill anyone. She has principles. But at the same time, she has prejudices. She's overbearing, and she never gives in to anything. She cares about me, but in a very sick, twisted way. And I hate it.”

“You mean… strict?”

“I mean… cruel.” Satoru’s voice felt quieter now. “And I don’t want her demeaning you just because.”

“Why would she—”

“Because…” He paused, finding the right words not to hurt her. “Because we don’t belong to the same social circle, and she doesn’t see that with good eyes. But!” He raised his index finger. “It has nothing to do with me, okay, Utahime? I’m nothing like her, and I don’t care about any of that.”

His finger reached for her nose, poking the tip affectionately. His unwavering, ocean gaze searched hers, as if willing her to believe every word.

“Satoru—”

“I don’t care where you come from, what your family name is, or how much money you have,” he continued clearly. “I only care about you and the way you scowl at me when I tease you. The way you frown while studying until you forget to eat. How you always stand your ground even when you’re terrified inside... And your fierceness. That’s all I care about.”

The warmth of his fleeting touch grounded her in a way she didn’t expect.

He exhaled, offering her a lopsided smile. “My mother can say whatever the hell she wants, but it won’t change a damn thing. I chose you, Hime. And I’m sure I’ll keep choosing you over and over again.”

Her heart clenched, and a rush of emotions swelled heavily in her chest at his words.

She wasn’t even sure of what to say, for her feelings were too big, too overwhelming to be voiced.

“Satoru, I—”

“Hey, you don’t have to say anything.” He squeezed her hand. “Just never doubt where I stand, okay?”

She smiled, sealing her lips on his with a slow, reverent kiss that carried a promise in their warmth.

“I hate when you’re this cute.”

“So you hate me?”

“Yes.”

A second kiss, and Mochi got in the middle, jealous of the attention he wasn’t receiving. Satoru chuckled. “He just wants his mommy.”

“Well,” Utahime sighed, petting Mochi absently. “About what you asked, maybe we should wait a little longer.”

“You mean, my mom?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah… Maybe you’re right.”

A brief moment of silence followed as they petted Mochi together until Utahime broke it.

“You shouldn’t feel bad about your mom. At least she cares about you.”

Satoru, too, understood how complicated Utahime’s relationship with her mother was. He had met her, and he knew that Iori Setsuko was the kind of woman that should have never given birth to anyone, even when he felt grateful that Utahime had come into this world.

If only she had a better mother than this woman…

“Hey, you don't need her.” He was aware of the meaning of her words. “I think you’ve done great on your own, actually. And everything will be different someday soon.”

She didn’t want to elaborate further on this. Any conversation about her mother wasn’t painful but rather bothersome. So she focused her attention on Mochi a little bit more, stretching a brief silence between them until Satoru sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the bed.

“What?” She arched a brow, confused by his sudden change of attitude.

He was staring at the ceiling when Mochi jumped on his chest to lick his chin. “I just realized… You’re graduating soon.”

A little caught off guard, Utahime blinked. “Huh?”

“Yeah… In little over some weeks, you’ll be off to college… And I hate that.”

The girl tilted her head and cleared her throat. “You mean you hate that I’m succeeding in life?”

“Who do you think I am, Hime? I hate that you’re leaving me behind.” He straightened up his head and leaned on his elbows to look at her, with his expression dulled by something more serious. “No more meeting you in the hallways, no more catching you by surprise during lunch, no more smooching during break time in our secret place and away from the teachers… And we only started dating.”

“Oh…”

She hadn’t thought about that. After all, Satoru was her first boyfriend, and she felt content with what they had until now. But with the little knowledge about romantic relationships she had acquired since they started dating, Utahime just started realizing that, perhaps, there would be a lot of experiences they would skip as school students for the fact that she was leaving soon.

“You know, I’d have liked to… Have more dates, more walks with you hand in hand through the school corridors… I could have attended more of your rehearsals and performances, and you could have gone to see more of my games…”

“Who says we can’t do that when I’m gone? I can still attend your games, and as soon as I join the university choir, you can go see me too, Satoru. I’ll still be around. The University of Tokyo isn’t that far, and you know where I live.”

“Still.” He frowned, playing absentmindedly with the tips of her pigtails. “I just got used to you being here.”

An impulse took over her and she pecked him on the cheek. Mochi didn’t interrupt this time; one of his toys was keeping him busy for now.

“I think you’re being dramatic,” she replied.

“Well, you might be right, but it doesn’t mean I’m lying.” Satoru made a short pause, now grinning widely at her. “But you know what’s good?”

“Huh?”

“Zen’in Naoya won’t have the chance to see you ever again, hehe.”

“Good grief,” Utahime facepalmed. “What is it to him? I don’t care about that guy.”

“But he likes you, and he tried to hit on you.”

“Like I care, Satoru. You better stop getting in trouble when I’m gone. I won’t have a delinquent of a boyfriend.”

“Hime, trouble is my middle name. They usually find me, and who am I to face up to them?” He pouted, giving her the puppy eyes.

Utahime frowned. “Poor you.”

“Yeah, poor me.”

She rolled her eyes but let him revel in the scent of her hair. Satoru sat up to reach for her, tilting her chin up and pressing a soft, slow kiss on her lips.

Right when the warmth of their lips began to deepen into something hotter, fiercer, a polite but firm knock on the door made them freeze.

“Satoru-bocchan, dinner is ready.”

With her face burning, Utahime pulled away instantly. Satoru groaned, dropping his forehead on her shoulder before speaking.

“Coming.”

“Mochi-san’s food has been served as well,” the maid added, and at the mention of his name, Mochi perked up, tail wagging as he hopped off the bed, padding towards the door to open it just like Satoru had taught him.

“What’s he having for dinner?” The boy asked as soon as he could see the woman’s face out of his room.

“Smashed pumpkin with spinach, boiled chicken and beef.”

Utahime’s eyes widened briefly. She would never tell this to Satoru, but the days she could eat beef were very few.

“Good.” Satoru stood up and waited for his girlfriend to follow suit. “Come on, Hime. I’m starving.”

“Excuse me, Utahime-sama.” The maid stopped them as the youngsters left the room. Mochi had made his way downstairs a century ago. The honorific made the girl freeze on the spot. “I have no knowledge of your eating preferences yet, so please let me know if there’s something you dislike. We can change it immediately.”

Embarrassed by this royal treatment she wasn’t accustomed to, Utahime giggled nervously. “I eat mostly anything, and it smells delicious, so it’s really fine.”

“Yeah, she’s right, Chiyo-san.” Oh, so he did use honorifics. “But when dessert time comes, give her the less sugary one you have made. She doesn’t really like sweets, unlike me, but she won’t tell you that. My Hime is tooooooooo polite sometimes.”

“Understood, bocchan.” The woman left with a kind smile, and they headed together to the dining room.

It was just as grand as the rest of the house—high ceilings, shōji screens framing the far end of the room where a panoramic window offered the view of a beautifully landscaped rock garden illuminated by lantern lights. The furniture and decoration were as Japanese and minimalist as they could be, while a long glass-topped kotatsu stretched in the middle and reflected the glow of a contemporary chandelier hanging overhead. The cozy seats around the table were an invitation to take a nap right after a big feast.

It was quite a sight to behold.

The girl had seen glimpses of this room before, but very briefly. The perfect harmony between tradition and wealth was intimidating, leaving her breathless once more.

She noticed too that the lights inside were slightly faint and guessed it was because of Satoru’s photophobia. The intensity of the fine and discreet bulbs in the chandeliers could be adjusted to the user’s needs with a remote control that Chiyo-san handed him.

What a luxury.

Without a doubt, she didn’t belong here.

Satoru, acting as if it were nothing special, of course, lounged in his seat while two maids moved around, setting plates and pouring drinks.

When it was time to start eating and they chanted their itadakimasu, Utahime picked at her food before glancing at her boyfriend. She had waited until it was just the two of them. “How many servants do you have at home?”

Satoru swallowed his mouthful. “Now? Only three of them are working. Chiyo-san and the two maids who help her. I let the others go home earlier when my mother isn’t here.”

She guessed they could be more than ten members of the serving staff in this huge house, but didn’t inquire further.

“So… What will happen when your staff tells your mom I was here?”

“Huh?” He paused mid-bite. “Why would they tell her? And if they do, so what?”

“Because they’re her employees.”

Satoru smirked. “Not a chance. I don’t care if she knows, but they won’t tell her shit.”

“Satoru, we are eating, please.” Utahime looked older when she scolded him.

“Yes, ma’am. But trust me.”

Before taking another bite, the girl raised an eyebrow. “How can you be so sure?”

He leaned back in his chair and swirled his cup of tea. “Because.” A pause. “They all hate her.”

Her eyes widened, even against her will. She had no intentions of being so obvious. Satoru continued.

“They all try to hide it, of course. But she’s earned that feeling from them over the years. And they work here out of necessity. They don’t owe her anything.”

Utahime thought of the efficiency shown by the staff when they were around, and she found it hard to imagine why someone could treat their employees so badly when they worked so well. Or, at least, that’s how it seemed to be.

“And… do they hate you too?” She seemed afraid to ask.

Satoru shook his head, swallowing. “Not at all. My dad treated them all pretty well, and they have known me since I was born. He taught me how to treat them well too. We get along just fine. They’ll keep their mouths shut if that’s what you want.”

She played with her chopsticks, humming. “I think it might be better like that. But it must be nice to have them on your side.”

“That’s how I always get my way when she’s not home. Otherwise, this would be a prison to me.”

His words made her feel a pang of sorrow in her chest, once again recalling Shoko’s description of Mrs. Gojo. But she tried to shake it off before he could notice any crack of sadness in her eyes.

Their conversation drifted to lighter topics as they ate, with the warmth of the kotatsu keeping them cozy. Every now and then, Satoru would steal food from her bowls and she would sigh exasperatedly at him, having long since given up on stopping him.

Mochi, having finished his meal, waddled over to them and flopped down beside the kotatsu to curl into a fluffy ball, making Utahime reach out to scratch behind his ears.

They talked about school, their parents, Shoko and Suguru, and how Dr. Ieiri wouldn’t approve of their relationship if he ever found out. They talked about baseball and Satoru teased her, saying that her favorite team was bad at playing, which earned him a slap on his back. Utahime’s college was also one of their subjects, until Satoru got sick of sitting and felt like taking her to the music room to show off his piano skills.

They sang along eventually, finding the perfect harmony when their voices conjoined in two different yet consonant melodies of a single song. Making music together gave them a sense of fulfillment, an indescribable feeling of belonging somewhere they had never been to but wanted to stay at forever.

And they kissed and kissed and kissed, just like their first time on the rooftop. They kissed until the sound of close footsteps interrupted them before Chiyo-san entered the room to tell him that the maids were already going home.

The boy nodded, taking Mochi’s leash from the coat stand and the water spray bottle to rinse out the trees when the pup peed. “Let’s take him for a walk.” He winked at his girlfriend. “It’ll help us with digestion.”

Utahime nodded, grabbing her coat before stepping outside. She was still wearing her uniform, not expecting earlier to be invited to Satoru’s house after school. And he hadn’t changed into his casual clothes just to make her company.

Despite the cold air of the night, the city lights gave everything a soft glow. The couple and their dog strolled through the quiet streets toward a nearby park, talking as Mochi trotted ahead and tugged at his leash in excitement.

Looking in awe at her surroundings, the girl couldn’t help comparing the Denenchofu streets with her own neighborhood. No boozers lying in the corners, no old ladies spreading gossip, no stray cats scavenging in dumpsters, no garbage scattered across the roads, no graffiti art on walls and no tattooed men playing board games while smoking.

The difference was… abysmal.

But she chose to focus her thoughts on another matter.

“Have the paparazzi followed you again?” She asked suddenly. Satoru had just bought two yakitori sticks in one of the shops nearby after leaving her with Mochi’s leash. But she didn’t eat hers right away, still feeling full from dinner.

The boy shook his head as he munched on a bite. “We told you they’d fly off. And I hope they stay like that.”

“Me too…” Utahime sighed. “I was afraid they could follow me home.”

“I don’t think so, since they don’t know who you are yet. But in case that happens, we’ll take measures. Just don’t worry about it.” He waved a hand dismissively, trying to shake off the concerns. “Hey, do you remember who turns one year old this summer?”

Satoru had succeeded. His girlfriend’s attention switched to Mochi with a wide smile as they saw him walk.

“Don’t tell me you’ll throw another party, Satoru.”

“I will,” he said smugly. “And we can invite all his friends from the daycare. Mochi loves parties. He was pretty happy at Shoko’s.”

Utahime squinted. “At this point, I’m sure that you and Shoko just like making up excuses to start a party.”

Satoru smirked, ready to answer. But in a moment of distraction, the girl loosened her grip on the leash and Mochi yanked free, darting off into the open roads.

“Mochi!” they cried, losing their yakitori sticks in the process.

“Utahime, you lost our child!” He groaned dramatically. She shot him a glare before sprinting after their dog, followed by her boyfriend. “You better catch the baby, Hime, or I’ll have to rethink our whole future.”

The blush that crept up her whole body was quickly replaced by the brief annoyance she felt at his teasing. “Shut up and help me, you idiot!”

They ran through the boulevard, dodging trees, bikes and bushes as Mochi merrily avoided them. After two agonizing and everlasting minutes, Satoru managed to corner his pup near a bench, scooping him up effortlessly.

Laughing, the boy carried the squirming dog back to Utahime as she bent over to catch her breath. “See?” He handed Mochi over. “You’re a terrible mom.”

Utahime smacked his arm, scowling. “I AM NOT!”

“Well,” he teased among chuckles. “You just lost our child.”

“Because he’s a menace, just like you.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “I’m not a bad mom.”

With her breath steady now, the girl held Mochi close, scolding him between kisses as he wagged his tail happily. Satoru grinned at the scene.

“He’s watching us, so you better start setting an example for him.”

“Argh! You’re insufferable, Satoru! We better start walking back to your house to pick my stuff up because I have to get back to mine.”

“Ah, right!” Satoru jumped from his spot, leaving her to carry Mochi the rest of the way back home. “Let’s go back now, before Betobeto-san starts following us. Boo!”

Slightly startled by the mention of the yokai, Utahime instinctively clutched Mochi closer. Whether it was just a legend or not, she was still a scaredy-cat when it came to supernatural stories. “Shut up!”

“Crybaby,” he muttered, planting a heavy kiss on her cheek as they walked.

“Idiot,” she replied, the blush on her cheeks barely hidden under the weight of her scowl. 

It felt like home—to be with him. And Utahime wouldn't have given up that moment for anything in the world.

Jumping, dancing and humming some old childhood tune, Satoru led the way back to his house. His joy dimmed a bit when he watched her begin to gather her belongings. She slung her schoolbag over her shoulder before going to the parking lot so his driver could take her home.

But it was late and dark, and he thought that perhaps, perhaps, he could do something about it before she even crossed the threshold. Something in him resisted the thought of her going back to an empty, quiet house.

“Hime?”

She was focused on finding her scarf, the one Shoko had given her. Her boyfriend spotted it first and handed it to her, brushing her fingers in the process.

“Hmm?” She said, wrapping the cloth around her neck, listening intently.

He could have melted from the way those big, honey-brown eyes of hers stared at him, so full of quiet strength and curiosity. They could bring a whole nation to its knees if she wanted them to. But here she was, with her gaze on him like he was the most precious thing in the world. Like no one had ever looked at him before.

“What if…” He hesitated, his voice low. He cleared his throat and clenched his fist, gathering courage. “Would you… like to spend the night?”

“Huh?” She blinked, confused. As the thought sank in, a soft pink colored her cheeks when she imagined what he could mean.

Satoru caught her expression, immediately waving his hands. “No. I mean, I'd set the guest room up for you.” Was he blushing too? “I want you to stay, but you don't have to sleep with me!” He cleared his throat again, scratching his neck with a sheepish grin. “I… Hehe. It could be like a sleepover, right?”

His nervous, adorable laughter made Utahime smile. 

“But… I didn't bring any spare clothes, only my uniform, and—”

“Don't worry about it. I’ve got a million T-shirts you can use. Or I can run out and buy something for you!”

Utahime shook her head immediately. “No way. I'd rather use one of your T-shirts. And some sweatpants, if possible.”

“As you please, princess.” He grinned, bowing like a gentleman. But there was something soft in his expression. And he approached her, leaving a chaste kiss on her cheek that enhanced her faint blush. “I—I’ll ask Chiyo-san to get the dorm ready for you.”

Before leaving, Satoru rummaged through his huge closet and handed her one of his T-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. She took them with a quiet nod, her face warm with the idea of wearing something that smelled like him.

“Satoru,” she whispered as he was about to step out.

“Yeah?”

“Would it be okay if I took a shower before bed?”

He nodded. “Of course, Hime. But wouldn’t you prefer a bubble bath instead?”

She denied the offer, shaking her head. The thought of indulging in anything too luxurious in his house made her feel she was already asking too much. “A shower is fine.”

Without pressures, Satoru darted into the bathroom to adjust the perfect temperature for the water. He returned and leaned against the doorframe, flashing her one of his softest smiles.

“All set. Make yourself at home. You have fresh towels, bathrobes, and even a spare toothbrush in the drawer. Brand new, of course. Take whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled and waited until he nodded and left to step inside.

He left to set it all ready for her. Not that he would’ve stayed; being in the same room with his bare-skinned girlfriend was utterly dangerous for his peace of mind.

In the shower, the water was warm, relaxing Utahime’s limbs after a chilly spring night. She emerged a while later—freshly scrubbed to wrap herself in the oversized clothes he had lent her, hair loosened and no pigtails—feeling ridiculous. The distant pitter-patter of Mochi’s paws outside and Satoru’s voice murmuring to the dog made her open the bathroom door and peek in after taking a deep breath.

“How do I look?” She asked shyly.

From his spot on the bed, Satoru looked up, and his eyes gleamed the moment he saw her. The grin that pulled at his lips made him bite his lower lip to stifle a laugh.

“Hilariously cute.” He declared.

Half-scowling and half-blushing, she threw the towel at his face while coming out. “Dingus.”

“Hey, this is on you!” Still laughing, Satoru tossed the towel aside. “I offered to buy proper pajamas, but you refused.” Crossing the room, the boy stood before her and poked her nose gently with his fingertip. “And still, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

She rolled her eyes in an attempt to hide the growing warmth on her face. “I’ve told you that flattery doesn’t work on me, Satoru.”

“I know.” He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “But it doesn’t make it less true, though.”

Their gazes met, remaining. Amidst their silence, there was something unsaid that lingered at the back of their throats and resonated loudly across every fiber of their brains—an ache, a need neither of them could really name, but both could feel deeply.

She shut her eyes as he leaned in again, this time to place a tender kiss on her forehead before stepping back.

And she wished, without knowing how to say it, that his lips wouldn’t have left her skin.

She wished he would have stayed.

Just a little bit…

“Satoru—”

“Your room’s ready.” He retreated. “Would you like anything to eat before bed?”

The girl hesitated. The space he had set between them—whether intentional or not—felt unwanted. Stinging. But she let it go.

“No. I’m fine, thank you.” She bent to kiss Mochi’s head and walked to the door. The dog followed her, though. “Good night, Satoru.”

He smiled at her, his eyes full of adoration and understanding.

Her heart pounded in her chest, as if waiting for something else that wouldn’t come… just yet.

“Night, Hime. Have a good rest.”

She closed the door behind her and walked down the hallway that led to the guestroom.

Just as the boy who remained inside decided to distract himself with a book to avoid thinking of the girl who was spending the night at home, only a few steps away from his bed.

For now, tonight promised to be a restless one.

Soon, the house went quiet, wrapped in the kind of stillness that only came with nightfall.

Dressed in Satoru’s garments, Utahime lay curled up under the covers and Mochi snuggled up by her feet. Her thoughts were loud, and her body felt restless, sleep refusing to come despite the warmth of the bed and the silence that surrounded her.

She missed Satoru’s presence. Not only physically, but emotionally. She wanted to be near him; she wanted to…

Even if she didn’t dare to voice her deepest desires, and her inexperience compelled her to hold it all back, she didn’t want to spend the night alone.

Eventually, she climbed out of bed and resolved to leave the room. She tiptoed through the dark hallway until she reached the subtle glow coming from his ajar door and peeked in. Inside, he was sitting up in bed while flipping through a book, and looked up with surprise when he sensed her there.

“Hime?” He asked, setting the book aside. “Is everything okay?”

Hesitating, Utahime finally stepped in. Her voice came out barely above a whisper. “Can I…” She cleared her throat. “Can I sleep here with you?”

For a moment, Satoru didn’t say anything. His mind was processing her request, trying to put her words in order like a puzzle, just as his brain struggled to keep his blood from going down to his crotch, swallowing hard.

But his love for her was stronger than anything, and he would never do a thing that could harm or hurt her.

Calming himself down, he smiled—slow, genuine and warm enough to appease the ache in her chest. “Yeah. Of course.”

Biting her lip, Utahime climbed beside him into the bed. But no sooner had she lain down than they felt Mochi jumping up as well to set himself firmly between them like a fuzzy wall.

And somehow, it helped to keep themselves at bay.

They both laughed quietly.

“He’s taking care of us,” Satoru mumbled, turning the lamp off.

But it was more like he felt Mochi was keeping them in check. Not that he could say that out loud, naturally, avoiding making his girlfriend uncomfortable at all costs.

With the nighttime darkness already cocooning them, Satoru covered the three of them with the same blanket. His gaze locked in hers, and it didn’t take long until his breath began to even out and he drifted to sleep. Utahime watched him for a while, admiring his perfectly chiseled features and craning her neck a little to kiss the long, white eyelashes that fluttered in his slumber.

He looked like an angel, and she thought that she wouldn’t mind waking up to this every morning, someday in the future.

The realization made something swirl in her guts, overwhelming her so pleasantly that she scooted a little closer in search of his warmth, careful not to wake him. Her arm brushed his beneath the blankets. Now, with her forehead making a nest just below his chin and Mochi snoring quietly between them, she let her eyes finally close.

Even her dreams told her that she could do this forever. This gentle, hushed, simple intimacy.

Once, they both had lost their families in different ways…

But, somehow, they had found it again tonight.

One of the things that Suguru and Shoko loved doing together was gossiping.

They judged mostly everyone, following people with their eyes until they found something to laugh about without uttering a single sound. Call it lovers’ telepathy or some mystical phenomenon that not even they could explain; the couple never needed a word to know what the other was thinking. Their targets were, on the whole, stuck-up schoolmates who used to look down at others or nasty teachers who used to be unfair to their students out of prejudice.

But their best friend, Satoru, wasn’t the exception. And now that he had a girlfriend, he was the reason for their sneaky giggles to a greater extent.

Suguru was less vocal about it, but it didn’t make him any less mean in his remarks.

And how their friend had changed noticeably around Utahime was, in their opinion, what made it worse.

The once proudly laidback, cocky, arrogant and too-cool-for-everything, king-of-the-school boy hadn’t exactly become a model boyfriend, but he had definitely changed, showing his concern for her in too unconventional ways. Gojo Satoru wasn’t the one to carry her schoolbag or lunchbox like some lovestruck sidekick. If so, he made her carry his stuff out of sheer teasing sometimes.

But he would do things his own way, like stealing her books or her sheet music folder just to give them back later with a dramatic ‘You dropped this, princess,’ or standing behind her in line just to lean down and whisper dumb jokes that made her chuckle against her will during the most inconvenient moments, saving her the embarrassment of yawning with boredom. He would toss her onto his shoulder after her P.E. period and carry her like a sack of potatoes around the school so she could have a proper rest—despite Utahime’s protests and evident lack of exhaustion.

He still skipped homeroom meetings, except the high school ones she was committed to attending. He would buy an ice cream for her and boop her nose with it, only to give her a light lick charged with affection. One that, undoubtedly, would make her glare at him.

The Gojo Satoru who used to never study—being an undercover know-it-all—was now suddenly very invested in their final tests because, in his own words, Hime would be disappointed if I don’t hit the books, guys. 

Naturally, Suguru and Shoko found this utterly hilarious.

Watching from the front steps of the schoolyard, they crossed their arms and grinned as Satoru and Utahime stood near one of the school buses. She was ready to leave on a trip to the museum with her class, while her boyfriend lingered like a shadow at her side.

“Bye, guys!” The girl waved at them before getting on the bus.

“See ya, senpai!” They responded in unison.

“Hey, be safe,” Satoru said, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder and brushing one of her hair bangs from her cheek.

“I will,” she replied, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him goodbye.

“Will you be on time for my baseball practice?”

Utahime nodded, almost getting on. “The tour will be over before lunch.”

It was a brief kiss, nothing scandalous. Cute and sincere. Perhaps even a little shy. But for their friends who watched them from behind, it was gold.

“Did you see that?” Suguru raised a brow, talking to his girlfriend. They had waited until Utahime was inside the bus and the door was closed.

Smirking, Shoko linked her fingers with his and put on an exaggeratedly bashful voice. “Hey, be safe…”

Suguru leaned down dramatically, fluttering his eyelashes and sighing mockingly. “I will.”

Shoko planted a kiss on his mouth. “The tour will be over before lunch.”

Satoru finally turned, his face scrunched into a blush that betrayed him. “You two, quit it!”

Gasping, Shoko leaned dramatically against her boyfriend’s chest. “Stop, guys.” She mimicked his tone, covering her mouth with her hand. “You’re embarrassing me.”

Satoru groaned and rubbed his temples. “I swear I’m gonna kill you both.”

“But how would that keep us safe?” Suguru quipped, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead in mock concern. He and Shoko made exaggerated kissing noises again until Satoru snapped.

“Argh! Shut up!” He took his jacket off and smacked Suguru on the back.

“Run, Shoko! Run!” Suguru laughed as he darted around the yard to dodge another half-hearted swing.

Unfazed, Shoko remained in her spot and pulled a cigarette from her skirt pocket, lighting it with idle precision. The girl leaned on the railing—away from the teachers’ sight—watching the two guys wrestle like a pair of kids. “Boys,” she muttered, blowing smoke. “They’re hopeless.”

As her eyes followed them, Shoko felt, for a moment, that things were exactly how they were supposed to be.

Later that afternoon, when the school grounds had quieted down after lunch, Satoru changed into his baseball gear for his practice while his friends dragged their feet to their corresponding club sessions. He saw the sun dipping lower and bathing the field with a mellow amber hue as he headed to the pitcher’s mound.

Despite her exhaustion after the school trip, Utahime kept her promise. She made her way to the bleachers—a book in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. As if connected to her by an invisible thread, Satoru sensed her presence from the field while warming up, waving at her before bat-swinging.

She smiled at him, taking a seat to watch him from a distance, admiring his sharp, fluid movements and his unmistakable, cocky smirk even from far away. He was loud. Confident.

Completely hers.

Or at least, that’s what she thought.

Until that girl appeared.

She was tall, athletic, blonde, and older and walked toward the fence with a self-assured aura from the opposite entrance of the field. Utahime frowned over the top of the book, following her steps with squinted eyes.

Something in her was familiar. Her long, silky, golden hair and the way her sharp eyes gleamed brightly, playfully. Scavenging through her memories, Utahime recalled seeing that face in a few photos in family albums the morning after sleeping in Satoru’s house. She was a former student of the Sugawara Academy, the child of family friends. Now a college freshman whose parents had ties with the Gojo clan.

Tsukumo Yuki was the name Satoru had given her when she asked for it. And Utahime’s blood boiled the moment this Tsukumo girl threw her arms around Satoru’s shoulders from behind, laughing like they were the best of friends.

The worst part: Satoru laughed back. It made her heart flinch and burn with rage.

And she felt something sharp burning, twisting, and curling low in her stomach.

She blinked twice. Then a third time. She tried to keep reading and act unaffected. But her jaw clenched because each time she glanced up, Tsukumo was still there.

Smiling at him.

Talking to him.

Flipping her beautiful sunny hair and resting her hand far too comfortably on his forearm.

Utahime’s grip on the book tightened.

She felt the urge to leave, to walk off before she embarrassed herself with some dumb, irrational or obvious emotion. But then she stood up.

No. She wouldn’t back down. If this was nothing, then she had every right to walk down there and act accordingly.

But if she was wrong and this wasn’t nothing… Then she would still rather face it than slink away and let him think he could get away with it.

If Gojo Satoru thought he could play her for a fool, he was sorely mistaken.

So she snapped her book shut and, determined, began walking down the steps toward these two.

Chapter Text

Satoru was the first to notice his girlfriend coming down from the grandstands, instantly straightening up with pride. He lifted his hand, as if the mere sight of her rewired his entire attention.

A broad and genuine smile broke out on his lips without hesitation.

“Hime!” He waved her over, his boyish energy so contagious it made the girl at his side look in the same direction.

But Utahime’s pace didn’t quicken.

She didn’t return the wave either.

Although her steps were calmly controlled, there was a storm that threatened to surface beneath her stare.

Still oblivious to the aura rolling off of his girlfriend, Satoru turned to the blonde newcomer with a grin that reached his eyes. “Hey, Kumo-san, there she is. I want you to meet my girlfriend.”

Curious, the blonde turned. “Oh? Is that cute girl from the stands yours?” She slapped his head affectionately, but it was enough for him to wince and rub the spot with a hand. “She’s really adorable. I thought you were kidding!”

When Utahime finally reached them, she was the perfect picture of polite restraint—hands folded neatly before her belly and a neutral expression on her face but her eyes sharp.

“Hime, come here!” He welcomed her, excited. “This is Tsukumo Yuki-san. She finished school here but now she lives in America and she came to visit. My family and hers are friends.”

“Nice to meet you, Tsukumo-san,” Utahime said with a brief bow, keeping the exact amount of politeness in her tone. “It seems you’re keeping him entertained.”

Yuki cackled, unfazed by the crisp undertone. “Ah, ha-ha! This guy here doesn’t need much help for that. He’s a ball of energy.”

“Yeah,” Utahime replied with an eyebrow flash. “I’ve surely noticed.”

“Hey, Kumo-san, hear me out. This girl here,” Gojo stood next to Utahime proudly, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “She won a scholarship for the University of Tokyo, and she’s graduating this year. Best of her class, just like me, huh?”

“You already told me that, dingus. I know you’re proud of her.” Yuki shook her head with a smile and turned to Utahime. “He’s been talking about you since the moment I stepped here.”

“Oh, that’s… great. I only heard about you once, I have to say.”

Far from being an airhead and getting mad at Utahime’s subtle jealousy, Yuki started to pick up on the tension. She laughed, patting Satoru on the back.

“Well, I came to say hi to this little guy, but now I gotta get going. Toru-chan, see you this weekend at the club!”

“Of course!” Satoru nodded with enthusiasm.

“And it was great meeting you, Utahime-san. We should hang out any other time with Shoko before I go back to America.”

“Yeah, sure.” Utahime nodded, her lips pressing together as she bowed for the farewell.

Yuki turned to leave, throwing a casual wave. “Good luck with this one. He’s a handful!”

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Bye, guys. Have fun, but not so much!” The blonde said, getting on her black bike, helmet already on.

Satoru waved her off, and he could hear Utahime huffing as soon as she disappeared around the corner, beyond the limits of the outfield.

As soon as his old friend was out of sight, Satoru turned to his girlfriend, both eyebrows lifting. “Okay… What the hell just happened?”

“Happened with what?” She didn’t look at him, frowning at some spot around the field instead.

“I think you know exactly what, babe. You acted all weird with Kumo-san,” he pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest.

Utahime shrugged.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I see is that you’re having a date this weekend with that ‘Toru-chan, see you this weekend at the club’ girl, aren’t you, Toru-chan ?” Her voice dripped with mockery, mimicking Yuki’s words in a singsong, overly sweet tone that didn’t quite hide the flicker of jealousy over her face.

“See? You’re mad at me!”

The girl crossed her arms. “Oh, I’m sorry, Toru-chan !” That tone again, her scowl deepening. “I didn’t know I had to be tickled pink while watching my boyfriend laugh it up with some girl who’s suddenly back from the dead.”

Blinking, Satoru opened his mouth, astounded. “She’s not back from the—C’mon, Hime! Kumo-san is just an old friend! Her parents are stockholders in one of our companies!”

“Sure! An old friend who hugs you from behind and flips her hair every two seconds.”

Satoru grinned, amused at his girl’s reaction. “You were counting or what?”

“Don’t push me, Gojo Satoru.”

He took a step closer, trying to disarm her under the charm of his blue gaze looking down at her. “Aw, is my little Pinkie Pie jealous?”

She blushed, yet kept her decision of not giving in to his allure. “I’m annoyed.”

“Ah, that’s just jealousy with extra steps,” he teased, trying to plant a kiss on her cheek that she dodged. “Come on, baby, don’t be mad. You know you’re the apple of my eye.”

“You think flattery would help you out of this?” She asked, resentful. “Go do that with your dear Kumo-san; maybe it works with her.”

She was about to stomp out of the field, but he grabbed her by the wrist. “Utahime, are you serious?”

And she yanked her wrist from his grip with a violent tug, glaring up at him. Her petite form forced her to tilt her head to meet his gaze.

It was her fault for agreeing to date this ridiculously tall-ass guy.

“You think I’m joking?”

Her rage tantrum was so cute he wanted to kiss her, but he knew she would slap the hell out of him if he tried right now.

She had her limits, and he wasn’t about to test them. His teasing came with boundaries, too.

“Hime, please, I had told you about her before. You knew her! Besides, she’s way older than me and—”

Satoru cut off as she crossed her arms, one eyebrow shooting up while her foot tapped a sharp, impatient rhythm.

He was forgetting a tiny, tiny, simple yet important detail.

“Okay, okay.” He held his hands up in surrender. “I know, you’re older than me too, but come on, Hime, she’s, like, really older than us and she’s just a friend. I swear! Like a big sis!”

Utahime scoffed. “A friend? Sure. I don't talk about my friends with my eyes shining.”

Satoru’s lips twitched into a teasing grin. “Don’t tell me you’re so jealous you can’t think straight, Hime.”

“Shut up, Gojo.”

“Look, what if I give you a kiss and we forget about this?”

“What if I hit you with that bat instead?” She blurted, her eyes darting at the bat that lay on the floor.

Satoru chuckled. “Seriously? Is that a challenge or a threat?” He leaned closer, voice low and taunting now. “Bet you’d swing and miss at that too.”

Her eyes flashed. There was a mix of rage and resolve in them as she stormed to take the bat while glaring at him. “You wanna see who’s gonna miss it?” She finally snapped, her pride hurt.

“Oh,” he exhaled, lifting an eyebrow. He wouldn’t say it aloud, but the blaze in her eyes made his blood run down his body until it filled the last vein in his crotch. It was painful yet pleasantly bearable. “So you’re challenging me.”

“You bet your smug face I am.” She took his cap and a ball, ready to hit it. “I wish your head was this ball but it isn’t, so if I hit more homeruns than you, you’ll have to beg for my forgiveness.”

Satoru laughed, jogging after her as she headed to the batter’s box. “And what if I win?”

Before she could finish stretching, she was already hitting clean and hard. “Then you won’t.”

“Whoah!” Satoru exclaimed, following the trail of the ball and using his hand to cover his face from the sunlight.

“You better start practicing your apology, you dumbass.” Her voice dripped with defiance as she adjusted his cap on her head, nailing a second one on the spot.