Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Your knees begin to ache as the weight of your body begins to cramp your calves. The perfected mask of stoicism stays in places as your brain and body moan at you to move from this uncomfortable position. Your brother sits next to you, although leaning back with his feet crossed in front of torso rather than below. The higher ups had called a meeting to converse over possible suitors for when you came of age. Satoru had just turned fourteen, practically a man. “We could find a way to bring the Zenin and Gojo clans together,” One of them says, although you couldn’t remember his name for the life of you, “There’s plenty of Zenin clan members that would not only strengthen the blood line, but prove worthy carriers of the strongest’s offspring.” Satoru gags at his words without a second thought. “I’m not playing match maker with a perverted old man,” he snaps, running his fingers through his short hair. The man hunches over and looks over at you sheepishly, “There’s still hope with you, my lady.” You look up at the man through your feather-like lashes without much feeling.

You always knew you’d end up married to someone in or outside of your clan, that’s how it was for women. Or so you’ve been told. “Naoya Zenin is the most prom-” Satoru cuts the wrinkled man off, his brows furrowed, “A Zenin? What a joke. (...)’s not marrying anyone and neither am I.”

“But this could advance us,” Another man chimes in, his white beard bobbing with every word. “If we could convince the Zenin clan to unify with the Gojo clan, we could finally end centuries long conflict. Our blossoming young lady is the key.” Your brother shakes his head and stands up. “I’m sick of hearing this nonsense,” he straightens out his haori before offering his hand to me, “Remove yourselves from the estate or I’ll do it myself.” Satoru left no room for the others to talk as he stormed out of the room, the walls shaking from the force of which he opened them. You remain just behind him, politely closing the door after you bow and walk away.

“Satoru, you mustn’t treat the clan elders like that,” you jog to catch up with your older brother, nearly tripping over yourself because of your jitteriness. “You’re going to get in trouble.” Satoru turns over his shoulder and rolls his eyes. “Oh whatever,” he scoffs, “They only care about politics and power, not me. Plus, how could they punish me?” Satoru pauses before sighing, “I’m sick and tired of living here.” He pulls open another sliding door to the surrounding porch, seemingly better now that he’s away from them. Satoru sits down, swinging his feet over the edge and resting his head on his arms. You close the door and sit next to him, your legs to the side as you lean on your right hand. “(...).” His voice is softer now, the way it usually is— unless there’s a higher up around. They always seem to irritate Satoru in a way no one else can. “I won’t be here forever,” he states, “You need to learn how to fight back for yourself, or you’ll end up some old man’s wife.”

His words were harsh. They always were. That was all either of you knew.

You nod your head, some loose hairs covering your bashful face. “Of course, Satoru.” He nods at your response but doesn't say much after that. “Where would you go? If you were to leave the estate that is.” Satoru thinks for a moment before speaking, “A school, With people my age.”

“Yeah.” You weren't sure what else to say.

“Wouldn't it be so much better?” You nod your head. “The clan said I can go to Tokyo High if I go through a stupid coming-of-age ritual.” Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. “You’re leaving?!” If Satoru were to leave… No, you didn't want to think about that. “I’m trying to,” he rubs the back of his neck carelessly. “I’d only be gone for a school year. Plus, I’ll make sure you're able to follow me next year.”

“Oh.”

Weeks pass, now you’re watching your brother become a man. At fifteen years old. His relatively slim body is made three sizes bigger with the amount of layers to his montsuki hakama. A large crowd of people, a few you can identify from clan meetings, cheer to their hearts’ content. You manage to stand next to a Zenin boy with black hair and cat-like eyes. He smirks at your brother mischievously causing Satoru to roll his eyes while walking with his parade of people. “Why would a Gojo ever choose to leave such an estate?” The boy continues to look forward, but you know he’s talking to you. “Satoru thinks in a mysterious way,” You answer. The boy, who you learned was Naoya Zenin and a possible suitor for you, darkly chuckled at your comment. “Clearly. Who would give up an elite education for a poor man’s? Not like you’ll have the choice,” He says, taking three steps in front of you, his pupils narrowing as he examines anything and everything, “It’s a female’s job to do whatever her father or husband tells her what to do, no?”

“Yes.” The word feels empty in your mouth, unsure and uncomfortable to what you had just agreed to. “You’re a good one, maybe the Gojo clan does actually know how to train their females.”

“Of course.” You watch Satoru disappear into the crowd of merry goers, unsure of why your throat felt like it was going to cave in on you.

For the first time that you can remember, Satoru gave you a hug. He was adorned in his school uniform, which was all black with tighter pants. You hadn’t seen the outline of his legs until now. His chin rests on the top of your white hair, his new blackout glasses threatening to fall off his face. You grip onto his suit as your face shoves itself into his chest. You fought off tears, but a few managed to escape, flowing down your cheeks. Satoru lets go of you, dragging his hands down your arms to your hands. He squats down to look up at you, smiling softly as he blinks hard. Suppressing anything he didn’t wish for anyone but himself to see. “You will be coming with me next year, so don’t worry,” He says, voice cracking as he attempts to continue smiling. “Until then, work on being the strongest.” You wipe the streams of water with your sleeves while nodding slowly.

“W-Write me,” you mumble.

“Every week,” he replies, squeezing your hand to reassure you. Satoru smiles and nods as he stands back up, his brown backpack still on his back, and turns around to the front gates to enter the black car leading him to a brighter, more joyful life. Or, that’s what Satoru had been trying to convince you. You wonder what the estate would be like now that you’re alone. Would it be too big, too empty, too still? The doors to the vehicle doors slam shut and two servants struggle to close the mighty clan gates, drifting you away from your thoughts. An old, wrinkled woman with a simple pale yellow yukata lays a hand on your shoulder, her presence similar to a warm bed of wilting summer flowers. “My dear,” she says, her voice soft and quiet, “Why don’t I get you some tea?” You nod your head automatically as you sniffle, wiping the remaining tears off of your cheeks as the lady leads you inside as if you were just another chore for her to take care of. Her hands are stiff despite her gentle words, her comforting hands were performed. She didn’t truly care for you. She cared for the money your family could give her and how many people you could protect from curses. You realize she’s performing comfort the way you’ve been taught to perform obedience. Because it’s expected, not because it’s felt.

You can already feel the year of suffocating loneliness seeping into your bones.

Chapter Text

August 16th, 2005

Dear (...),

I hope this letter finds you in good health.

By the time I am writing this, it has been three days at Jujitsu Tech. I’m not sure how long it will take for this letter to reach you, but I hope it isn’t more than a day. 

I met a boy and a girl in my class. Both are kind, although I am unsure of what they are talking about most of the time. The boy is named Geto, and he has long black hair and a big hole in each of his ears. He’s pretty strong, too. You’d like him very much. The girl is named Shoko. She likes to smoke and is very amusing. She’s funny, and you would like her as well. 

I forgot my  Nintendo DS at the estate. Would you check up on my  Augumon once in a while? If you get the chance, evolve him into Greymon and then into Metal Greymon. The clan hasn't married you off yet, have they?  I have a mission in Kyoto with my peers soon, so I’ll kidnap you if they do.  I miss you. You’ll be here next year, and you'll have fun.

Can’t wait to see you,

With brotherly love, 

Satoru

A sharp breath leaves your nose as you fight your lips from moving upward. The servant behind you momentarily glares at you through the mirror, but you pay no mind. It had been four days since Satoru left, the dream of him still being here with you growing more distant and more distant every time you open your eyes. You lay the letter on your vanity and dismiss the servant doing your hair, she sighs before getting up. “Be ready soon, my lady,” she says flatly, sliding open your bedroom door. “You have a mission in two hours.” She bows before closing your door, leaving you and your brother’s letter. 

I miss you.

You trace your fingers across the words, carving them into your heart. It calmed your mind knowing he missed you just as much as you missed him. You tear a piece out of the closest notebook and slam it to the ground before grabbing your calligraphy brush.

August 20th, 2005

Dear Satoru,

I miss you dearly, these walls seem oddly silent without you. I cannot wait to join–

No, the elders or servants might read this. The paper ends up somewhere crumpled on the ground. Your hand begins to move with years of muscle memory, crafting a stiff letter with little room for your voice. Satoru would know better, you thought, it’s not truly me writing.

August 20th, 2005

Dear Satoru,

My health is well, thank you. How are you?  

It seems you are enjoying your schooling, and I’m glad you are. It brings me joy that you have written to me. I would hope that your peers are friendly and I hope you become good friends.  I apologize for the brevity of my letter, I am not very good at writing nor do I have time. I have a mission, maybe we could see each other in the future? I must hurry off now.

Hope to see you soon, 

With sisterly love,

(...)

The letter is folded up, left for a servant to pick up and deliver. You begin to prepare yourself for your mission, unsure of what to expect on your first without your brother. It was a matter of time until you started doing your own missions, but you’d rather do them with him still waiting at the estate for you. No one you could come back to would be proud of you, the elders expect that you finish the job and the estate keeper couldn't care more or less if you disappeared. You were the spare, after all. No one would wait for you to come back with a glimmer in their eyes or a dorky grin on their lips.

Another day, another mission. The days are long and beginning to blend together. Satoru has sent many letters, long and short, while you’ve sent as many as time would allow. With Zenin elders coming over to have meetings and relentless missions, your schedule has been packed.

August 30th, 2005

Dear (...),

In your last letter, you said you’ve been swamped with missions and couldn’t write back to me, so I found something to help! Suguru introduced me to this thing called a ‘phone’, it’s like a letter that can be sent without a post office. It can also play music and stuff. Suguru really likes this band called 'Nirvana’. Kinda funny since we attend a school under the guise of a Buddhist private school LOL (Shoko uses these things called ‘slang’ and LOL means that I’m laughing out loud).  I'm going to buy two of them and give one to you so we can send letters better. I have a solo mission in Kyoto, and it won’t get canceled like the last one. I’ll come and see you after it, I have so much I need to tell you in person!

If I beg my teacher enough, I’m sure he’ll let me go on a mission with you. What’s your schedule like?

I gotta go, or Yaga’s gonna get on my butt about being late :((

With brotherly love,

Satoru

September 5th, 2005

Dear Satoru,

A phone? I think I overheard some servants talking about them. They must be a newer thing. I would love to send quick letters, since I’m almost out of paper and my brush is starting to lose its bristles. How is your schooling? I assume everything is very fun, based on your previous letter. What do you and your peers joke about? Is it incredibly different from what we would joke about?

I have several missions scheduled primarily in Kyoto and in the Tokyo metro, maybe we’ll run into each other! I have much to tell you as well. For now, I must ready myself to attend yet another meeting.

Have fun with your friends, 

With sisterly love,

(...)

Satoru Gojo had grown. He was taller and was now growing muscles. Mr. Yaga has helped him grow from being a spoiled estate brat to a spoiled estate brat with a sense of humor and an addiction to sweets. “They seriously never let you have sweets?” Shoko asks, nibbling on a small piece of dango. Satoru shakes his head. “No, we weren't allowed to have stuff like this,” he mumbles with a mouth stuffed full of mochis. Suguru chuckles at his friend’s antics. “We? Are you referring to the girl you keep writing letters to?” He asks, taking a bite of his salted caramel sundae. “That’s my little sister,” Satoru swallows, “She’s still at the Gojo estate, but will come to school next year. I’ll have to send her some of this stuff, she would love it.” 

“Are you not allowed to do a lot of stuff back home?” Shoko asks, with Suguru nodding along. “Not really. Not like here. Anyway, I’m done with sitting around–” Satoru stands up from the park bench and stretches his arms above his head, “-There’s a festival literally going on in front of us!”

“Arrangements are currently being made,” Nabito, the current Zen'In clan head, states. His voice booms through the hall, causing your brows to furrow at the sudden loud noise. Naoya, one of the loud man’s many sons, glances over at you before scoffing. You don’t pay much mind. This meeting would be over soon and you could finally eat dinner. “Seeing him with a fellow elite family pleases me.” The Gojo clan’s fill-in head, a cousin of yours, replies sternly, “Well of course. We wish for the same thing, no? Our young sakura blossom is just beginning to bloom, and her future should bring peace to our clans…”

The two men ramble on and on, causing you to tune them out. Their conversation had no importance to you. Your mind wanders off, finding itself amidst the plans you had for tomorrow. You’d finally be able to see Satoru after a whole week! He’d finally give you that phone for quick letters.

“Dismissed!” Your head announces. You bow automatically before standing up, fixing a small wrinkle on your obi before turning on the ball of your socked heel. You manage to take a few steps before a hand grabs your wrist. “I thought Gojo females were well trained,” Naoya’s eyes seemed to have gone dark. “You’re supposed to leave after me. Best to get that through your thick skull.” Your brow quivers as you attempt to take your arm back. Cursed energy floods to your wrist instinctively, enough to shatter his grip, maybe his hand. Your Six Eyes have already calculated three ways to—

No. You force it down. He's a guest. An ally. This is discipline.

The energy dissipates. His grip remains. “I-I’m sorry?” You reply. “That’s what I like to hear,” Naoya says, squeezing your wrist before stomping away, just behind his father. You spin your head to your elders, the ones in charge of protecting you. The old men all look at the floor, ceiling, or right through you. Naoya’s grip left a light purple ring around your wrist. You glance towards the men before gripping your wrist and quietly walking to your room.

Satoru visited. Finally, two days later. But, you couldn't really feel anything, even when he gave you the flip phone you raved about together. It was like your body was a piece of wet cardboard. Flat, cold, and miserable. You stopped writing altogether, unsure of what to say to him.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

September 24th, 2005

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

From: Satoru

Is something up?

From: Satoru

You haven’t written or texted me since we last saw each other

From: Satoru 

I gave you a phone so you could write to me more easily

From: Satoru

Did the clan do something?

From: Satoru

Answer me

You: 

I’m alright. Tired and busy.

From: Satoru

Don’t bs me

You:

I said it’s fine.

From: Satoru

Why won’t you say anything?

You:

Because there is nothing to say. How is school?

From: Satoru

It’s fine. I have classes early tomorrow, so I’m going to bed

From: Satoru 

You would tell me if something happened, right?

You:

Of course.

You:

Goodnight. Have fun at school.

From: Satoru

Goodnight. Cya next time

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

You flip the device shut and place it on your vanity. You told the truth, so why are your hands shaking? The engagement wasn’t finalized yet. The ceremony hasn’t happened.

It’s not a lie if it's not official.

The fading purple on your wrist catches your eye. This is normal, you tell yourself. The elders didn't say anything, so it's a good thing. It's discipline. Of some sort. It's good for the clan and it's better if Satoru didn’t know. You bunch up your sleeve to examine the bruising, using your other hand to trace over the new mark. No curse has been able to do that to you, let alone a human boy. A loud gasp causes you to jump and toss your sleeve back over your forearm. “My lady!” The newest servant, a nineteen-year-old woman named Miho who had started working a week ago, gasps as she enters your room. She scrambles to close your door before kneeling right next to you. Her tanned skin emits a comforting warmth, so your body doesn’t automatically tense. Rather, you find yourself alleviating a sort of tension you didn't know you had. “Oh dear, what happened? It wasn’t one of those ‘curses’ I hear about, is it?” You gaze up at her, your eyes refusing to blink as she looks at you. “That looks like it hurts.” Her hands are delicate as she looks over the damage. “Oh, um,” Your brain fogs, “Nothing happened.”

She deadpans you, eyes unwavering as her brow lifts. “You’re a bad liar, Lady Gojo.” You bite your lip, like a little kid who has just been caught stealing something. “I apologize,” your voice was barely above a whisper, “It’s not much, nothing to fret over.” Miho pouts childishly, seeming like a teacher to her young students. “Of course I’m going to fret, no little girl deserves to be yanked-”

“I’m almost fourteen. Basically a woman.”

“Oh,” she playfully knocks her temple with the hilt of her palm, causing you to giggle, “Obviously. My statement still stands, though, no woman deserves to be yanked by some guy.” I stay silent, unsure of what to respond with. “Now, let’s get you to bed.”

The next day, you’re sent with an elder and a servant of your choice over to the Zenin estate. Upon entering, you were required to veil your eyes. The amount of cursed energy tore into them like a cat’s claw. You could barely imagine staying here for more than a few hours. “I wonder how you can see with that on,” Miho says, seated comfortably next to you as the driver parks just outside the foreign estate. “I forget you’re not a sorcerer, make sure to keep quiet about that here,” you say, teasing with your blindfold to reveal a glimmer of your eye. “I have special eyes, which is why I wear them.” Miho nods her head, but doesn’t seem to understand fully. You walk in sync with the elder just beside you, while Miho remains three steps behind you. This morning, a pair of Satoru’s old servants came in and dragged you into a new, black kimono and forced your beloved hairpins to scrape against your scalp to secure a proper bun. A hole boiled in your stomach but you refrained from throwing a fit, unknowing of what the clan might do with Satoru gone.

“There you are,” Naoya’s prepubescent voice hits your ears like nails on a chalkboard, “I was hoping you Gojos wouldn’t live up to your 'always late’ reputation.” You pay no attention to his meaningless words and bow respectfully. “Now that’s not how you want to greet allies, Naoya,” His father, a rather large and imposing man with graying black hair and a spikey mustache, chastises him. He seems warmer than Naoya, but no less cruel. Cruelty must be a Zenin trait. “Welcome to the Zenin estate,” Nabito states, a shit–eating grin ever present on his lips, “I’m glad you've chosen to join us for tea.” You fall into step behind Naoya as you’re guided inside. Men, women, and children, of the clan and of their staff, look at you as they pass by. Most of their eyes have a dark pit of hatred, but some, mostly women, don’t even dare to look at you. Their brows crease at the smallest glimpse of your kimono. “How many curses have you exorcized?" Both clan heads walk ahead of you, leaving you to Naoya’s questioning. “Should I have been counting?” Your hands remain molded together at the front of your obi, just as you have been trained. Naoya’s brow raises as he turns around. “Why, yes!” He exclaims. “I am not entangling with someone weak!” You catch yourself just as your nose begins to scrunch. Showing any sign of disgust could land your clan on even worse terms with the Zenin. “I am a Six Eyes user,” you speak calmly, careful not to offend him while also maintaining your honor, “Making me the statistically second strongest sorcerer.”

“You’re a woman, you can't be that strong,” He scoffs, smirking as if you owe him something. “I’m stronger than you.” Your head snaps to Miho, who looks like she’s about to burst out laughing, before going back to Naoya. “Mayhaps,” You remain calm despite your growing irritation, “But we’ll never know. I only fight curses.” You all make it to a large room with a large kotatsu and an exquisite chawan set. You are sitting beside your cousin, with Naoya and his father just across from you. Every time you sat with other clans, you couldn’t help but notice how the young prodigies sat next to their mothers and fathers. Neither you nor Satoru knew your parents, not even as little as sat next to them. You were taught not to let it bother you, but deep down you wished to be held by the woman who carried you for nine months or to play with the man who helped create you. You swallow a tight lump in your throat.

 Miho sat with two young girls in the corner, all clearly servants. There was a dim light coming from the open sliding doors giving a glimpse into the training courtyard. Angry men swing their swords with robot-like precision.  You continue to peek outside the window without the others noticing. They spoke and spoke while one of the young girls was ordered to whisk up matcha. She was very obviously a Zenin, she had the hair, the eyes, the furrowed brow, but she was made to be a servant. Perhaps that was the Zenin’s clan equivalent of kicking weak sorcerers out of the estate. You weren’t sure which one was more humane.

“Her brother was very adamant that she was to remain unbetrothed,” Your cousin speaks with a fake wisdom, his foolishness hidden under the glass mask of a high intelligence. He was an idiot. Everyone in the clan knew it. Unfortunately for everyone, Satoru straight-up said that he didn’t want to be clan leader so now you're stuck with him. “But she’s a brilliant young lady who knows what’s best for her clan.” Nabito nods his head as the young girl hands him a fresh cup of matcha. “I wouldn’t expect less, she’s an incredibly talented sorcerer. It would be a shame if she were wasted on a man without an ounce of power in his blood.” You glance over at Naoya, who is using his eyes to pick apart your every breath, causing your skin to crawl. “The Kamo clan had offered up a boy no younger than five years of age. We were quick to decline. Our elders then believed young Naoya and our Lady could bring peace to the families, and so we reached out.”

By now, everyone had received their matcha. The substance was too bitter for your liking, so you drank it as fast as you could without being impolite. “Do either of you have questions?” Nabito says, referring to me and Naoya. “Yeah. Why doesn’t she wear that thing over your eyes? You didn’t wear it at your elder brother’s genpuku.” Naoya points to your blindfold. “I am a Six Eyes user. I cover them to keep my constantly active eyes from overwhelming my brain with too much information.” The boy raises his brow, refusing to let go of the topic. “Perhaps when we are married, I’ll choose what you wear. Then it’ll be something more pleasing to my eye.” The word married clings to your throat like bile. You take a mental deep breath. This is for the sake of the clans. “I enjoy my current blindfold and do not wish to change it.” 

“It seems that your young Lady knows what she wants,” Nabito chuckles. “I think this arrangement will be excellent. With the two of them being fourteen, that gives four years to plan.”

“Thank you,” Your clan head says, bowing his head respectfully, earning Nabito’s bow as well. “I plan that this union will benefit us both very much.” You leave without much word. You knew this arrangement would happen. It wouldn’t be terrible, you tell yourself, you can hold your own.

“I can't believe you’re marrying such an asshole,” Miho scrubs you back gently with a sponge, dipping it gently into the warm water and coating it on your soapy shoulders, “I know it’s like tradition for your family ‘n whatever, but seriously?” Miho had told you she used to be a gyaru, a tropical-themed manba, and was very critical of most men. “He reminds me of my ex!” I had dismissed all other servants so we could talk freely. She did so anyway, knowing I would punish anyone who looked at her wrong. “Like all macho-man and crap.” It bewilders you how she even became a servant at a quiet estate, knowing how she is with her bleached blonde hair and colorful yukatas. Maybe she was a bodhisattva who came to help you. It would make the most sense. “I don’t really like him either,” you sigh. “I assume I will in the future though. Satoru had a similar phase, just earlier where he would ask all sorts of silly questions.” Miho finishes with your body and grabs a paddle to wet the top of your hair. “Boys are silly,” she says, tilting your head back. “They really don’t deserve girls at all. Especially you.” You crack a smile at her words, a small blush rushing to your cheeks. “Why me?” Miho giggles as she softens her voice. “Because you’re the prettiest, smartest, sweetest, gir- woman I know.”

Miho makes you think she’s more and more of a bodhisattva every day, with her soft words, gentle touches, and ditzily worded wisdom. If you had to marry anyone from any clan, you’d need Miho to be there with me.

Today was your genpuku. Your fourteenth birthday. Not actually. Your birthday was #/#, not today. But it didn't matter. This day signals you as an adult in the eyes of your clan. Miho dresses you while older servants do your hair into excessive styles. One servant colors your face with pale white powder while another paints your lips bright red. When finally given the chance to breathe, you stare at yourself in the mirror. Your face was unrecognizable under all the powders and creams. You wished Satoru were here, but then he’d find out about your engagement. God knows what he would do. Maybe, deep down, you wanted him to figure it out. He would have enough strength to say no.

You spend hours in the same sky blue kimono while people watch you get marched around like a prized doll. Your head was splitting, not only from the lack of covering on your eyes but also from the heaviness of your hair. This was exhausting. After sitting through hours of ceremonies and marching, you were able to sit down while thanking guests for attending. A familiar face causes a twitch in your eyelid. “My, my,” Naoya sneers, approaching you with his signature smirk. “You look like a geisha. Paraded around like one too.” You bow your head respectfully, Naoya does the same although it feels like he’s mocking you. “Good thing you’re pretty,” he says, “Or I would have refused this proposal.” You raise your brow, “What makes you say that?” And who made you think I was the one who wanted to marry you? “You don’t speak very much. To me, that at least makes you something I’d look at and touch but not converse with.” 

“I apologize,” you clear your throat, “I am unaware of what to discuss with you.” Naoya thinks about my response before opening his mouth. “I’ll worry about it later, you have your whole life to learn.”

Your life was no longer your’s, but the Gojo and Zenin’s. The more important a person is, the less their life is theirs. You doubt your’s was your’s to begin with.

_____________________________________________________________________________

December 17th, 2005

________________________________________________________________________________

From: Satoru

Omg

From: Satoru

y’know how u used to say u get rlly bad headaches from ur 6 eyes

From: Satoru

I found that excessive amounts of sugar can kinda balances it out

From: Satoru

Geto gave me these things called gummy bears 

after I forgot my glasses and they changed my life

You:

Gummy bears? Were they good?

From: Satoru

So that gets ur attention

From: Satoru

You don’t respond when I ask about you

You:

There’s nothing to tell you about. Estate life is mundane.

You:

I’d rather know what Jujitsu High is going to be like.

From: Satoru

Yeah totally

From: Satoru

I’ll ask for the 100th time

From: Satoru

Did the clan marry you off to a Zenin?

You:

And I’ll answer for the 100th time.

You:

No.

You:

And you have not answered my question. We're the candy bears good?

From: Satoru

Yea, they were

From: Satoru

You always do this, changing the topic on me n 

stuff since you even got this stupid phone

From: Satoru

I just want to make sure you’re fine

You:

I am fine. I just dislike talking about the estate, that's all.

You:

I am tired. Goodnight.

From: Satoru

Yeah yeah

From: Satoru

Goodnight little sis

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

More and more meetings dragged the winter of 2004 on and on, like a washed-up whale. You typically zone out of these meetings, your eye coverings giving you the perfect opportunity to do so. Miho remained by your side throughout the whole process. She even helped you pick out a ring, since both clans ordered you and Naoya had one. It was a silver ring with small diamonds leading to a sapphire, it was pretty yes, but its meaning was empty. Spring was just around the corner, meaning you would start school in less than a month. “I hated school growing up,” Miho whines as she braids your hair. Her hands work to make two braids that would later be rolled into a bun. “But I can understand where you’re coming from. I would hate living here, I’m not judging you or your brother.” You shovel two or three gummy bears into your mouth, since you didn’t want to wear your blindfold. “Again?!” She exclaims. “You only eat those when you don’t wear your blindfold. That no-good fiancé of yours didn’t say anything again did he?”

“No,” you drag out your words, disproving your statement entirely, “I just don’t wanna wear it anymore.” Satoru had told you sugary foods would make your headaches go away. 

You didn’t have a headache.

“Mmm-hmm,” she says, sassily swaying her head. “I don’t believe you.” 

You wave your hand, nonverbally dismissing her. “My cousin said he would grow out of it. All boys do. It doesn’t even worry me.” Miho sighs, “In another universe, I’m picking the man you marry because this is ridiculous!” You giggle at her words as she playfully grabs your waist from behind and wiggles her fingers to tickle you. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

May 27th, 2006

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

From: Satoru

I’ve got an overseas mission that will take up most of the break

From: Satoru

So I won’t be able to see you until u start school :((

You:

;999

You:

That’s my sad face.

From: Satoru

lololololol i forget ur a grandma trapped in a teenager’s body

From: Satoru

I’ll be back like two days before school starts

so I’ll at least be there, but not you’re genpuku :’(

From: Satoru

Suguru and Shoko are rlly excited to meet Gojo jr

You:

Okay.

You:

Miho tells me that u don’t wear normal clothes to school. 

What do I purchase to look at least normal?

From: Satoru

OMGGG UR FINALLY TALKING TO MEEEEE

From: Satoru

YYAYAYAYAYYA

From: Satoru

Ahem

From: Satoru

Anything colorful. That’s like a big thing in fashion rn, Shoko told me

You:

Okay.

You:

I’ll go shopping soon.

From: Satoru

Good idea!1

From: Satoru

Go with the Miho servant u talk about so much

she defo knows what’s gonna look good

From: Satoru

I gtg, Yaga’s tots pissed off rn

From: Satoru

Cya soon

You:

Goodbye.

______________________________________________________________________________

Spring came and went like a gust of thawing wind. Soon enough, you had your new clothes, treasured accessories, and a stash of Miho’s old makeup. Servants you weren’t very fond of carried your bags to the car delivering you to Tokyo while you stood in front of a squatting Miho. Your bottom lip trembles as you blink away tears, “Are you sure you cannot come with?” Miho smiles softly, her brown eyes beginning to water. “I gave you my number, so you’re free to text me. I won’t be going anywhere,” She tucks a white strand of hair behind your ear tenderly, “You are strong, smart, and kind. You can do anything, and that includes going on ahead without me.” Miho pauses to wipe away a stray tear with her sleeve. She then stands to her full height, causing you to lay your head on her chest and you wrap your arms tightly around her. She quickly responds, wrapping her arms around you and nuzzling into the hair she helped you wash for a year now.

You peel yourself off of her and wipe away several tears before bowing. “I’ll message you,” You whisper. Miho nods her head as you turn on your heel and enter the car’s backseat.

You’re soon dropped off at a train station, bags in hand, and a hope to live a little before your wedding. You sit in a corner seat by yourself, your bags taking up the other seats like Miho had told you to do. You read most of the three-hour trip, but at one point snuck some ‘Animal Crossing: Wild World’ on Satoru’s DS. Today you wore the school’s summer uniform, a simple white button-up with a long skirt. It was cute, even for your strictly traditional wardrobe. The lush greens of the land soon turn into concrete as you get closer and closer to your stop. Neon billboards, bright lights, and the most people you’ve ever seen in your life. As the train stops, you hurry to pick up all your bags, causing you to stumble. You make your way onto the platform and into crowds of all kinds of people. Bright white tuffs of someone’s hair bounce as they push their way through the many people. “(...)!” Your brother’s voice felt foreign after not hearing him since September, but you could recognize it anywhere. “Satoru!” You drop your bags, leaving pedestrians to walk around them, but you couldn’t care. Your brother makes it to you and you tackle him into a hug. 

Both of you are laughing and celebrating. His arms are around you and for a moment, everything is exactly how it should be. Then you remember. The ring is in your bag. The contract is signed. In three years and some months, you'll be Naoya's wife.

Satoru pulls back, grinning. "Ready to see Jujitsu Tech?" You should tell him. Right now. The truth is right there in your throat. "Yeah," you say instead, smiling. "I can't wait."

The guilt sits in your chest like a stone.

Chapter Text

Satoru lies back in his reclined seat as one hand remains on the wheel. He shows no care as he rambles on and on about his adventures and missions. His once short hair had grown out, a sign of rebellion towards the clan. He did mention that his male friend was cool and ‘punk’ (whatever that meant) about that stuff. You just prayed it didn't mean straight-up dishonor.

“Suguru and I went on all this stuff together while Shoko would be sent to the aftermath of special grade missions to heal, ‘cause of her technique. But anyway, Suguru and I would take out all these bad guys,” he gestures while you hold onto the car’s handlebars, “I can’t wait for you to start doing missions with me. It’s gonna be super fun.” You nod your head. “I am as well.” Satoru glances over at you then back at the road. “Are you tired or something?” He asks. “I thought you’d be chatty.” Jujitsu High wasn’t too far from the train station, but not exactly close either. But it was an easier drive, since barely any cars were nearby. “I’m exhausted,” you confess. “I didn’t think sitting on a train for so long could drain me that much.” Satoru nods his head. “Yeah, it weirded me out too. You just kinda get used to it.”

Satoru doesn’t ask about the estate or the elders or if they did anything. It was both a relief and a pain. You didn’t want to get married, but it was easier if he didn’t know. “Do you enjoy your schooling?” You ask, your voice flat. “Is it making you stronger?” Satoru shrugs. “I’m already the strongest, I don’t have to worry ‘bout it much.” He steps on the brake, slowing the car to a stop as you approach a red light. “Anyway, enough about me. Are you excited for school?” You nod again, “Indeed. I’m enthused.” Satoru looks at me before smiling and shaking his head. “You sound really enthusiastic.”

The two of you sit in silence. With Satoru trying to fill the gap and you unsure of what to say, leaving you with only the soft rumbling of the engine to soothe over the awkwardness. “Tell me about um– what was it again– Miso? Miho? Whatever. You seem to like her a lot,” he says. “Yeah,” you smile softly, fingers thrumming over the hibiscus flower Miho embroidered on your school uniform before you left. “She was a gyaru and I have no clue how she was hired.” Satoru snickers at your words. “Miho was very wise, even if she worded it poorly. She only started working for our family because she wanted to save money and move somewhere tropical. Miho also told me a lot of things about the outside world. You would have liked her.” Satoru nods. “Yeah, probably,” he mutters, eyeing you with his brows furrowed. “How come you're all chatty when I ask about someone other than you? You can trust me if something's wrong, I’m literally your flesh and blood.” You wave him off, dismissing the question. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m the same, just with another year of life experience to my name.”

“Oh my gosh, you sound like an adult,” Satoru exasperates, earning him a glare from you. “We’re both adults in the eyes of the clan,” you state, as if it were a legal fact. “Yeah, to the clan, not the government or the rest of the normie population.” You don’t respond, keeping your face composed so he wouldn't get angry like the clan’s men. Satoru was the strongest, and he had been since birth. You were told from the moment your Six Eyes awakened and you were stripped away from your mother and father, that Satoru was of the highest beings. A god, in short.

You glance over at him, peering at his sky-holding eyes from the side of his sunglasses. You held the only other pair in the world, both of you all seeing. Yet so blind.

Without saying much, Satoru parked at the front gates and opened his car door before walking around the front of the vehicle and opening your door. He offers his hand, which you take graciously. An assistant asks Satoru for the keys, so Satoru throws them without much care. “We got here earlier than expected,” he says, referring to the lack of student body. “That’s rare. We’re usually always late.”

Before you know it, Satoru is walking through the campus and to your future room. You walk up god knows how many stairs just to reach the actual school grounds. Satoru carried most of your bags, since his stuff was already in his dorm room, with you carrying a small backpack. “What the hell did you pack in here to make this so heavy?” he whines, intending to annoy you. “I brought all my clothes and treasured items. You did the same,” you reply, not giving in to his antics. 

The school, in sum, is a little bit larger than both the Gojo and Zenin estates. The main building was just in front of you, while the dorms lay to the side. You weren't sure where the other side led, but you had plenty of time to learn. Your brother dropped two of your duffel bags on the stone pathway so he could fiddle with the key he was given to get you into your dorm, earning him a pissed off, “Satoru!” He snickers as he opens the door, revealing a hallway of doors as you drag your bags up yet another set of stairs. You take your shoes off at the entrance of the dorms, while Satoru just waltzes in. “Your room is three doors down from mine, just like it was at the estate. Sound alright?” Satoru puts a key into the door handle, but doesn’t open it just yet. “Are the rooms between us occupied?” You ask, shoving one of your bigger bags into Satoru’s arms. He takes it gracefully, although with a stupid smirk on his face. “Geto, Shoko, and one of your classmates. The other one of your peers is on the opposite side.” You nod, prompting Satoru to twist the key and open the door.

“Oh,” Your eyes widen, “Um, this is rather small.” Before you is a twin-sized bed, a dresser, and a small, wooden desk. Your nose tickles as the dust littered around the room swirls upward, causing you to sneeze. “It’s not big,” Satoru says, resting a hand on your shoulder, “But it becomes home after a while.” He moves around you and into the room. Satoru unlocks the sliding window door and slides it open, allowing a small spring breeze to dance around your new room. “I didn’t expect it to be so dusty. I’ll go get a wet paper towel to clean it up.” Your face scrunches. “Do they not have servants here?” You ask, mildly concerned. “Nope. Nothing, actually. It’s a blessing and a curse.” Satoru swerves around you once more, his footsteps echoing on the floor as he leaves you behind to get the makeshift dusting supplies. “I’ll be right back. The bathroom is on the first door to the right, just so you know.” Satoru disappears into the boy’s bathroom while you stare blankly into the room given to you. While holding your breath, you set your bags onto the bare mattress. The room wasn’t bad, you just weren't used to whatever commoners were supposed to live in. The raised bed was something you haven’t seen before. At the estate, everyone slept on futons. Now you would sleep a whole two feet above the ground.

“Yeah, people use sheets and blankets for beds now. Futons are becoming a little rarer each decade,” Miho says, her pace matching yours as you both stroll through the Zenin estate’s garden. It was yet another visit to possibly bond with Naoya, but you ‘fell ill’ and ‘needed to get fresh air’ somewhere away from him and his grumpy family. “I guess you’ll never have to worry about it though, not in the world you live in.” Miho allowed you to hold on to her yukata while she held a parasol over your head. Naoya made it a point that he didn’t want you wearing your blindfold in his presence, so you were stuck squeezing your eyes shut to make your mental exhaustion and overstimulation fade away. “I assume.” You would much rather worry about what type of bed you slept on than how to please both clans.

You squat down to look under the bed, finding nothing but dust bunnies. You groan, annoyed by the filth. “I’m back,” Satoru exclaims, sing-songy as if he’s in a melodramatic play. “And I gotchu covered.” He throws the wet paper towel on the desk and begins collecting the dust. The material builds up, forming a several-centimeter-tall wall. “Yuck!” Satoru sticks his tongue out for emphasis. “Your hands are going to get all dirty,” you whine. “This is below both you and me.” Satoru nods, “I won’t disagree with you on that, but we’re expected to maintain the rooms.”

After several paper towels, the majority of your room was dusted. Satoru stood back and wiped pretend sweat off his brow. “Y’know, cleaning is actually so calming,” he says. “I complain all the time, but man, it makes me slow down.”

“Really?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. “I find it disgusting.” You examine any dirt that may have gotten under your nails, sighing with relief when you don’t find any. “Since you have a clean room and a lot of unpacking to do, I’ll leave you be. Suguru’s gotta be around here somewhere.” You wave your brother off as he shuts the door behind him. 

The breeze from the door swirls around your room like a happy ghost while you slide onto the floor, unsure of what to feel. Your gaze flickers over to your backpack. The ring. Miho said to keep it as close to you as you could, so no one could steal it, but you knew better. She knew you were trying to hide the engagement, but never directly acted upon it other than talking poorly about your betrothed. You reached for your bag, digging through it to find the velvet box. Your finger pads brush over the material before opening it, revealing the sapphire ring. It was too dark to look like your eyes, but it matched the faint memory you had of your mother’s. You saw her last when you were six years old, not much could be said about her. She was a clan woman. There’s never much to say about us. The ring meant nothing to you. It wasn’t to show your love, but your prison sentence to the Zenin clan. A symbol that you were only ever an accessory: to your brother, your clan, and now your betrothed’s family. The moment your Six Eyes woke, you became a man’s property to sell and claim.

An abrupt knock on your door shakes you out of your thoughts. “Hey, (...), I found your classmates!” Satoru's voice sang through your door, causing you to jump and slam the box shut before throwing it in your backpack once more. You open your door but Satoru is already halfway dragging you to the top of the stairs. Geto, the partner-in-crime Satoru always told you about was there too. “This is gonna be so fun,” Satoru snickers while Geto pretends to be scary. “Does this look good?” He asks. “Oh yeah, we’re gonna scare their socks off!”

Satoru places you by a vending machine and puts a finger over his mouth before turning around and walking besides Geto. “Oh, look! Speak of the devil… there they are!” A boy with brown hair and wide, curious eyes exclaims. Both Satoru and Geto try not to laugh as they smile and furrow their brows. “Aah?” You hear Satoru growl. You mentally facepalm at his unbecoming behavior. “What’s this?” Geto grumbles.

The brunet must have seen right through their act as he introduces himself. “Oh! Hello! I’m Haibara Yu, a new student,” he points to a stiff, tall blonde next to him, “This is Nanami Kento.”

“Nice to meet you,” he grumbles, averting his gaze. Your brother does some dumb pose with his hand, trying to intimidate your future classmates. “You guys,” he shakes his head and smiles, “You do know where you’ve come, don’t you?”

“This is Jujutsu High. Makes even crying kids shut up,” he crackles his knuckle, “And yet you two seem pretty full of yourselves, huh?” Haibara lets out a noise of confusion while Nanami just sighs.

Satoru and Geto point at them, their backs pressed against the others like the ending of a musical. “Come to the classroom later. You’ve got ten minutes!” Satoru exclaims. “If you’re late… You better be ready for what’s coming,” Suguru finishes threatening them. “Y-Yes!” Haibara squeaks out weakly. Satoru and Geto then walk past you, giggling at each other. Your brother points to your classmates, urging you to speak with them.

You glance at the two, Nanami looks exhausted while Haibara remains optimistic. “Hey, do you think that was them— you know— tryin’ to haze us or something?” The brunet says. “Jujitsu High might be way tougher than I thought. I better step it up like a hundred times more!” Nanami looks at him with a raised brow. “You didn’t check out the classroom yesterday, did you?”

You take a few steps forward, making your presence known. Nanami turns to face you while Haibara waves. “Wait,” you say, your voice soft as you approach them slowly, “There was a preview yesterday?” Nanami nods, “Yeah. Are you another senior?” You sigh. “No.”

“Good! Those seniors freaked me out a ton!” Haibara exclaims. “So what about the classroom? I don’t wanna figure out what they’re gonna do!”

“It’s nothing,” Nanami mumbles. “We should go so we’re not late then,” Haibara starts walking towards the main school building, “Oh, wait.” He pauses and looks at you, observing your eyes closely. “You must be related to that sunglasses guy.” You nod your head. “I’m Gojo (…), his younger sister.”

“He’s not gonna be mean is he?” Haibara says as Nanami and you begin following him. “No, Satoru’s only scary when he’s around people he doesn’t like.”

You make it to the classroom, with Nanami leading the way. He opens the sliding door, only to get a face full of confetti. You try not to crack a smile while Haibara starts cackling, causing Nanami to glare back at you both. “Welcome to your first year at Jujitsu High!” you can hear your brother celebrating. Nanami is dragged into the classroom by your brother while you and Haibara follow. Before you know it, a party hat is slammed onto your head and you're decorated with a body sash. The second years had thrown you all a little welcoming party. Haibara was loving it, cheering and chatting up the other students. You and Nanami, however, stood there awkwardly and unsure of what to do. 

“It was nice meeting you all,” Satoru says. “But it was the best–” He wraps his arm around your shoulders and ruffles your hair, “-Meeting this total stranger” You swat at his hand, and glare at him for ruining your hair. “I’d hope we’re not strangers.” You take his comment too seriously, earning a snort from the second year with a brown bob. “Also, there was a preview yesterday and you didn't tell me?” Satoru lets go of you and shrugs. “I guess I didn't want to ruin the surprise!” You roll your eyes, causing your brother to gasp dramatically. “You wound me, little sister!” His antics cause your lips to curve upward. “To the other first years,” Satoru reaches his hand out to you classmates, “Don’t break your seniors’ hearts like this.” Your brother then reaches over and steals your party hat and puts it on his head. You don’t mind much, you didn’t really want to wear the thing anyway. Your ears start to ring and your eyes blink slower and slower. Satoru catches on while the other celebrate (Nanami would clearly be elsewhere, but it still counted). 

“You can leave early if you want. I know this kinda thing isn’t up your alley.” 

“Are you sure?” You rub your temples with your fingers as your eyes remain half closed. “Yeah,” Satoru huffs. “You’re not wearing any coverings, and your eyes are more sensitive than mine. Dumb choice, little sister.”

You slide into your room and shut the door, clicking it shut. Despite the lack of cursed energy from both boys, you already knew their techniques and their maximum amount of cursed energy. The blonde had a ratio technique using a cursed blade, while the brunet was a shikigami user. Your head was spinning and the world began to blur around the edges. Naoya be damned, you were wearing your blindfold. You make it one of your duffle bags, tearing through yukatas and long, western skirts alike to find it. After scattering half of your clothes on your bed, you find it and hurry to slide it over your hair and onto your eyes. Thankfully, you’re still able to see the outline of objects but not process all the cursed energy. You had already eaten all of the gummy bears Miho packed for you, so you would have to beg Satoru for some more. 

You slide down to sit on your floor and take in the room all over again. It needed a mirror and a dresser of some sort, but everything worked out fine. You had everything you needed and almost everyone you needed. There was already a growing Miho shaped hole in your heart. You missed her. Even after only knowing her for a year, Miho had grown to be the older sister you didn’t know you needed. She taught you everything about being a ‘normal girl’. Makeup, fashion, cute boys. You didn’t really understand the last one though. Why would you have to look at other boys when you already had one picked out for you? You loved makeup and fashion though. Miho was a gal before she started working for your family, so she was an expert on both. When you didn’t have anything important that day, Miho would do makeup on you. She had yet to find somewhere to print her disposable camera’s pictures of you in fun gyaru makeup. It was a miracle you weren’t dropped from the clan because of that.

It had been twenty minutes since you left the party. You wondered if anyone else had left after you. You open your door, only to find no one else in the hallways, which was a good sign since you were already overstimulated. You pass Haibara’s door, and (most likely) Shoko’s door before you peer inside the third door and see both Satoru and Geto. Your knuckles whack the door, similar to how Satoru’s did earlier. “I’ll get it,” a soft voice muffled by the mostly closed door says. When the door fully opens, you’re greeted by Geto. “Oh, (...), what do you need?" Satoru appears just behind Suguru, almost invadingly so.  “I need something sugary, I have a headache,” You say without much feeling. Suguru cracks a smile. “You really are Gojo Jr,” he chuckles. “I have a stash just in case Satoru ever runs out.”

“That’s Suguru Geto for you,” Satoru says, pointing back at him. “If you need literally anything, he’s the man.” You nod while squinting at the boy as he fishes out a small package of sour patch kids. “I wouldn’t overwhelm yourself with it right now though, you probably have enough going on.” Suguru tosses the packaged candy at you. “Thank you,” you bow your head respectfully, like you were trained to do. “No problem,” Suguru gives you a thumbs up, “I’ll be here if you need anything.” 

You close the door as you leave, the candy clutched tightly in your hands. You tear into the candy as soon as you enter your room, hoping for anything to ease your migraine. The sugar helps ease the spinning into a dull throb, but only makes the growing feeling of nausea worse. You brush it off as exhaustion, but it remains as you unpack your bags and sort them into piles. The drawers are soon filled with your favorite yukatas, kimonos, and the ‘modern’ clothes you bought with Miho. Your hairpins now rest in their jeweled box atop your dresser, along with Miho’s makeup bag. Your bags were all empty, minus your backpack and the bag full of Miho’s old clothes. You weren’t ready to fully transition from estate wear to modern clothes, so you carried your light blue yukata with your bathing supplies to the women’s shower house. Given that it was early in the evening, you were able to shower without interruptions. Your white hair was now a light gray, thanks to the water. It was odd not having a bath or a servant to clean you, but not unwelcome. It made you feel more independent, like a normal woman. 

Your raised bed remained without sheets, so you used the small blanket and pillow Miho packed for you. Now that you think of it, Miho packed everything for you. You’d have to text her a thank you. With your migraine mostly gone, you keep your blindfold off. You grab your phone and open your sliding glass door, where you toss your legs over the edge of the porch. 

 _____________________________________________________________________________

August 10th, 2006

________________________________________________________________________________

You:

Hi Miho.

You:

Are you free?

From: Miho ☆

Of course girl!1!

From: Miho ☆

How was ur 1st day of skol?

You:

It was good. 

You: 

Though, I wish you were here. 

From: Miho ☆

Nah, I’m too old.

From: Miho ☆

You’ll see me soon enough anywho

From: Miho ☆

Do you think I can call you if I walk outside the estate?

You: 

I would not see why you wouldn’t.

From: Miho ☆

Sickkkkk

From: Miho ☆

Gimme a sec

________________________________________________________________________________

Miho calls you after a few minutes, and you pick up immediately. “Hey!” Her voice is crunchy thanks to the phone, “How’s my favorite lady of the Gojo clan?” You chuckle at her words, “I’m doing just fine, thanks Miho. How is everything back at the estate?” Miho sighs and you can envision her rubbing her temples. “Lame,” she whines. “You’re the only person I like from this shithole. Everyone’s more insufferable than a dead cow.”

“My goodness Miho, someone might hear you!”

“What are they going to do? Tattle? To who? The only people with real authority are at school three hours away.” Miho was always sassing with little to no shame, as she quickly found that most everyone living in your clan home had very little power over anything politically. It lay between you and your brother. “Just be careful, I don’t wish for anyone to dislike you.”

“Oh my sweet, little people-pleaser,” Miho hums, “You need to start worrying like you’re living for you, not other people.”

“But I am living for other people,” Your gaze casts downward, towards the swaying grass, “That’s why I was born.”

“If you don’t understand what I’m saying now, you’ll understand when you’re older,” Miho sniffles before speaking again. “It’s chilly in Kyoto. What about Tokyo?” She changed the topic like she often does, not a habit you were entirely against. It led to a wide range of conversations. “It’s rather warm here, but I might wear socks to keep my feet from getting cold.” Miho laughs at your response. “That is smart!” She exclaims. “The sun has already set here and the servants are getting ready for bed. I’d go to bed soon, you have a long day tomorrow.” You nod, forgetting that she can’t see you. “I’ll end the call then,” you say. “Thank you for calling me.”

“You’re too sweet,” she giggles, “Good night, (...), make sure to try your hardest.”

“Good night Miho, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

You never could remember your mother's voice, but only the sweetness of her lullabies sang to you as she rocked your little form in her arms. Your father’s face was exact to your’s, yet you could not remember it. You could only remember his shouts and your mother’s cries as men with the same hair as you in kimonos raided your small suburban home. One of them takes you into his arms. You don’t remember his face or recall any warmth in his eyes. 

One summer morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and eyes that held the weight of the sky instead of your dark sapphires. That afternoon, you were taken to your family’s estate for special training. You had just turned six.

“There are many bad men and women who would love to get their dirty hands on you, young one.” An older woman was assigned to you, she had the same white hair and the same color eyes as your old ones. Her scarred hands often tied white bandages around your eyes.  “Why?” You asked innocently, still holding onto your fleeting childhood. “Don’t ask many questions,” the woman strokes your hair gently, “You will not get praised like you did at your outside school.”

Your old kindergarten uniform was burnt outside in the front of the estate, a symbol that you couldn’t understand at the time. 

The same woman– who you learned was named Kaori, although you were never to call her that– dressed you in a plain white yukata. Your mother always mumbled about how much she hated traditional clothes when she thought you were asleep on her chest as she laid on the couch with your father next to her.

 “My mommy–” Kaori slapped your cheek, leaving a fat mark. “Don’t you ever–” she grabs your pudgy cheeks and pulls you to her face, “-speak about your mother. You are a threat, you hear me? That’s why the clan has you here. Because your mother and father are weak and can’t contain you.” She then hugged you, allowing for your plump tears to dampen her servant's uniform. You didn’t know what she was saying, you just knew not to say it again.

You held onto two of Kaori’s fingers as she led you through a long hallway away from your new bedroom. Your little feet stumbled as you attempted to keep up with her face pace. As you turn a corner, long lines of servants slam their foreheads onto the ground. You looked at them informally. According to Kaori. Even dared to ask one what they were doing, earning another mark from Kaori. 

You fought off tears as a large sliding door opened, presenting a room easily the size of your house and a trail of untouched, expensive toys leading up to a short, white haired boy. His face is neutral. So neutral, in fact, that he appeared more like the robots from your father’s favorite movies than a boy a year older than you. Kaori bowed, her head almost touching her knees. You mimicked her, stumbling as you adjusted to the new position. 

“Gojo-sama,” Kaori motions to you, who was rubbing your stinging cheek with your free hand, “This is your younger sister. Her Six Eyes activated just a few hours ago. She will be living here from now on.”

You sniffled as your supposed brother spoke, “I have a sister?” His voice was childlike, but also not. Like a young adult. Nothing like the divine creature the people whisper about in hushed tones. He tilted his head, his bright blue eyes examining you with an intensity that made that morning’s headache ten times worse. “What is your name?” The boy asked calmly, his voice unwavered. “(...),” you replied. Kaori flicked your jaw, causing a small tear to escape your covered eye and soak into the bandages. “Speak in full sentence,” one of the old men seated behind the boy declared. “The honored one is speaking to you. Speak back with utmost respect!”

You tried to stay strong and not cry, but all you wanted was to go home. To your mom. To your dad. Not this cold, unloving hellscape called a family estate. Family is warm and inviting, not indifferent to your silent cries.

“Her Six Eyes awoke this morning,” another elder stated while scratching his white beard, “Her parents tried to keep it quiet, but one of our grade ones said that the curse they were fighting died on the spot. Similarly to how many curses reacted when our Gojo-sama was born. That’s how we found out and came to collect.”

You tightened your grip on Kaori’s fingers. “Everyone is dismissed. I wish to acquaint myself with my sister.”

“But Gojo-sama–”

“Did you not hear me?” Satoru growls, on the verge of a temper tantrum. “Or do I have to make myself clear?” Elders and servants alike bow before exiting swiftly, with Kaori leaving as well. Leaving you with no one to hold your hand. Once the door slammed shut, Satoru stood up and walked towards the back of the room. “I hate this stuffy hall,” he said, motioning for you to follow. “We’ll be going to the gardens.”

You followed him, picking up your yukata so you wouldn’t trip. “Why is everyone here so mean?” you whined. “They could be Zenin,” he retorted. You didn’t know what that meant. 

Satoru plopped himself down gracefully, swinging his feet over the edge of the elevated porch. He patted the spot next to him, which you improperly and childishly threw your legs over and landed on your butt. Your brother gives you the tiniest smile, his pink lips barely curling upwards. 

“I like you,” he said. “I like having a sister.”

Time was fleeting. As it always is. 

You and Satoru grew, not always side by side, but close enough to become good friends. 

Or at least that’s what you liked to believe. 

The garden became your world. Not because it was beautiful– though it was, with its carefully manicured hedges and koi pond that reflected the sky, but because it was the only place you were sometimes allowed to exist in the same space as your brother.

“Why do they keep us apart?” you asked one autumn afternoon, watching red leaves spiral down into the pond.

Satoru kicked his feet, his legs longer now, almost reaching the grass below the porch. “Because they’re scared.”

“Of what?”

He looked at you, those blue eyes studying yours through your bandages. He’d graduated to darker sunglasses now, ones that hid his eyes completely. “Of us. Together.”

You didn’t understand. You were six and seven years old. What was there to be scared of?

“Two Six Eyes users,” Satoru continued, voice taking on that strange adult quality again. “It’s never happened before. They don’t know what it means.”

“Kaori says I’m a threat.”

“You’re not a threat.” His voice hardened. “They’re just—” He stopped himself, jaw clenching. Even at seven, he was learning what not to say. You picked at the hem of your yukata. A pale pink one today, still plain, still nothing like the bright colors your mother used to dress you in. “Do you remember your mom?”

Satoru went very still. “I don’t have a mom.”

“Everyone has—”

“I was born here,” he said flatly. “The elders say I came from the clan’s blessing. That’s it.”

You knew he was lying. Or rather, repeating a lie he’d been told so many times he’d started to believe it. Kaori had told you the truth one night when she thought you were sleeping: Your brother was ripped from his mother’s arms the moment he was born. The honored one belongs to the clan, not to any one woman.You wanted to tell him. Wanted to say you had a mother and that she held you. Even if it was only for a moment. But Kaori’s handprint still stung on your cheek weeks later, a ghost of pain that reminded you what happened when you spoke of mothers. So instead you said, “I don’t remember mine either.” It was the first lie you ever told him. Satoru looked at you, and for a moment, something passed between your matching eyes. Relief, maybe. That he wasn’t alone in his not-remembering.

You learned early that sometimes love meant lying. 

Days faded into weeks, and weeks faded into months, and months faded into years. You were eight now, having lived at the estate since you were six. You didn’t think of your mother or father anymore, they simply didn’t exist anymore. 

You stared at the paper, then at Satoru’s scroll. “Why is yours so long?”

“Because I’m the—” Satoru stopped himself, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know.”

Kaori appeared behind you. “Because Gojo-sama will be protecting the world. You will be supporting a household.”

“But I have Six Eyes too,” you said quietly. “Yes.” Kaori’s voice was not unkind, but it was final. “And that makes you valuable. But Gojo-sama was first. He is the honored one. You are…” She paused, searching for words. “You are the spare.”

The spare. Like a button kept in a drawer in case the real one falls off.

Satoru’s hand clenched around his scroll. “She should train with me.”

“That is not appropriate, Gojo-sama.”

“I don’t care about what is appropriate!” His voice cracked. Puberty started early, stealing even his child’s voice. “She’s strong! She should—”

“Gojo-sama.” An elder appeared in the doorway. “Your morning meditation begins in five minutes. You are expected.” Satoru looked at you, then at the elder, then back at you.

You could see it happen. The moment he calculated the cost of fighting this battle. The punishment wouldn’t fall on him. It never did. It would fall on you. More slaps. More corrections. More reminders that you were the spare, the threat, the mistake.

“Fine,” he said quietly. He left. You stood there, holding your single sheet of paper, and told yourself it was fine. This was fine. You were supporting him. That’s what spares did.

That afternoon, while Satoru learned advanced combat techniques, you learned how to fold a napkin into a crane. Your hands didn’t shake. Not where anyone could see.

“Absolutely not!” The elder’s voice boomed through the hall. “The girl is not ready for—”

“She has Six Eyes,” Satoru interrupted. He was nine now, taller, his voice deeper. He’d stopped trying to hide his frustration. “She’s ready.”

“Gojo-sama, with all due respect—”

“Then respect me and let my sister come on the mission.” You knelt beside Satoru in the meeting hall, back straight, head bowed. You’d learned the posture so well you could hold it for hours. You’d learned a lot of things: how to be silent, how to be small, how to make yourself disappear even when you were right there. “It’s a Grade Two,” Satoru continued. “She can handle it.”

“The concern is not whether she can handle the curse,” another elder said carefully. “It’s whether she can handle being in the field without… appropriate supervision.”

Translation: without someone to hit you when you step out of line.

“I’ll supervise her,” Satoru said.

“You are not qualified to—”

“I’m the strongest sorcerer in the world.” His voice was flat, stating a fact. “I’m qualified.”

Silence.

Finally: “One mission. As a trial.”

Satoru’s hand found yours under the table, squeezed once. You squeezed back.

You wanted to feel excited. You wanted to feel proud. Instead, you felt afraid. Not of the curse. Of failing. Of proving them right. Of being the spare that breaks. The mission itself was almost anticlimactic. The curse was a grotesque thing, all teeth and limbs, manifesting in an abandoned apartment complex. You and Satoru moved in sync. Your Six Eyes tracking its movements, his Infinity keeping it at bay while you found its weak point. “There,” you whispered, pointing. Satoru grinned. “Nice catch.” He destroyed it in one move.

On the way back, he bought you ice cream from a convenience store—the first sweet thing you’d had in three years. It melted on your tongue, cold and sugary and perfect.

“You were amazing,” Satoru said, strawberry ice cream staining his lips pink.

“You killed it,” you pointed out. “You found it. Same thing.” It wasn’t the same thing. You both knew it. But in that moment, sitting on a curb outside a 7-Eleven, legs swinging, ice cream dripping. You felt like normal kids. Like maybe you could be brother and sister, not the honored one and the spare. The illusion shattered when you returned to the estate. The elders gathered. Servants whispered. And when the report was filed, it read:

Mission Report: Grade Two Curse Elimination

Primary Sorcerer: Gojo Satoru

Curse Successfully Eliminated

Additional Notes: Gojo-sama’s younger sister provided adequate support during the mission.

Adequate support.

You’d tracked the curse through three buildings. You’d identified its weak point. You’d maintained a barrier around civilians while Satoru fought.

Adequate support.

Satoru stood before the elders, shaking with rage. “She did half the work!”

“Gojo-sama was observed to eliminate the curse,” an elder said calmly.

“Because she—”

“We are pleased with your sister’s performance,” another elder interrupted. “She fulfilled her role admirably.”

“Her role? She’s not a sidekick, she’s—”

“Gojo-sama.” The head elder’s voice cut through the room. “Your sister is a woman. She performed adequately for a woman. Surely you do not expect us to praise her as we would praise you?” Satoru looked at you. You saw it in his eyes. The question. 

Say something. Tell them.

You bowed. “Thank you for allowing me to accompany my brother. I am grateful for the opportunity to support Gojo-sama.”

The words tasted like ash.

Satoru stared at you like you’d slapped him.

That night, he found you in the garden.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

You didn’t look at him. “What was there to say?”

“That you’re strong! That you—” He stopped, breathing hard. “Why do you let them treat you like this?”

“Because fighting it won’t change anything.” Your voice was quiet. “You can fight them because you’re the honored one. I’m just the spare. If I fight, I break. And broken spares get thrown away.”

“I wouldn’t let them—”

“You can’t protect me from everything, Satoru.” Finally, you looked at him. “You can barely protect yourself.” It was cruel. True, but cruel. He was ten years old and already carrying the weight of the jujutsu world. You were nine years old and already learning that some battles couldn’t be won. He sat next to you, and you sat in silence, watching the koi swim in circles. “I’ll get us out of here someday,” he whispered. “Okay,” you whispered back.

You didn’t believe him.

But you loved him for saying it.

Today was your twelfth birthday. But, Kaori didn’t come and wake you today. Something he hasn't ever forgotten in her six years of servicing you. Not when she had fever, not when she was mourning her daughter, and certainly not on your birthdays. This morning, you undid the braid she did for you last night and brushed it out. It was strange, not having her around to dress you. It created a nauseating pain within your gut. 

“Kaori?” You walked around, searching for your servant. The woman had softened over the years, leaving the smacking to someone else instead. Rather than dismissing your cries like she used to, Kaori began sitting in your room, stroking your hair and mumbling stories about her youth until you fell asleep. She would talk to you in the soft voice your mother always would, telling you stories about the daughter she lost

She wasn’t a gentle woman, but far better than the other servants. Recently, she had been leaving you little notes with smiley faces and flowers, telling you to stay strong and that someone saw you. You knew she was referring to herself. Despite having only two eyes, she saw everything.

“Where’s my servant?” you stopped one of Satoru’s trainers, your bare eyes digging deep into his soul. “I-I’m not sure, Lady Gojo,” he stumbled over himself. “Yeah.” You dismissed him before storming off to check your usual spot: the kitchen, the servant quarters, and the garden. But she wasn’t anywhere. The feeling festered, growing and growing into your gut. Telling you to start demanding answers.

A different servant brought your lunch that day.

“Where is Kaori? You hadn’t put your blindfold on all day, your eyes pounding thanks to the exhaustion, but you needed to frighten someone into telling you what was wrong. The servant girl, who wasn’t much older than you, bit her lip and exited the room without a word. You stared down at the food. Fish, rice, pickled vegetables. Normal. Except it wasn’t. The fish was placed on the left side of the rice, not the right like Kaori would have it. There was no note telling you that you were worth something. You shoved it away as if you were presented with roadkill. 

“I have grown tired of not being answered,” you cornered the same girl from before, “Where the hell is Kaori?”

“Y-You’re not supposed to call her that–”

“Did I ask you to correct me?” Your hands were shaking with rage now. “Where is Kaori?” The servant girl paused before sucking back tears. “S-She’s in the c-cursed weapon shed.”

You had never ran faster in your life. The corridors phased into each other, servants dived out of your way, passing elders looked at you with shit eating grins. 

“Kaori!” You shouted, sliding open the back door leading to the clan training grounds. “Kaori?!” You make your way to the sheds, each lined up in neat rows.  You look past the first two before catching a glimpse of her signature pink yukata. “Kaori, where have you–” That’s when you see it.

Your legs stopped. Your voice stopped. Everything stopped. Except your Six eyes, which showed you everything you didn’t want to see. The world sharpened into unbearable clarity:

The rope: cheap hemp, government-issue, stolen from the training shed.

The beam: weight capacity 200kg, structural integrity compromised at the connection point.

The body: 12 hours deceased based on rigor mortis, ligature marks inconsistent with self-inflicted hanging.

The bruises: finger-shaped, five distinct impressions on each wrist, suggesting two different assailants.

The hair: cut with a blade, uneven, done while she was restrained based on the angle.

Your Six Eyes calculated trajectories, force measurements, time of death. Your Six Eyes told you exactly how she died. And it wasn't suicide.

You wonder who’s screaming.

You fall to your knees at the sound.

You then realized that it was you.

‘It was a suicide,” an elder explained, shaking his head. Several others mumbled in agreement. The main hall had never looked so full or so dark. 

Satoru sat next to you, his hand engulfed yours in a silent comfort. “There is no way—“

“Miss Gojo!” The elder slammed his fist on the ground, “You’re overreacting! That servant of yours was out of her mind, hanging herself was the only way to relieve herself of her misery!” Another elder added onto his lies, “Would you rather have her miserable and alive or happy and dead?”

You paused at the question, unknowing of what to say.

“Don’t speak of it like that,” Satoru barged into the conversation. “Someone died and you treat them like this?” He flashed the elder his eyes, gleaming brighter than usual. “Gojo-sama,” the first one warns, his voice low. “I suggest you watch how you speak to your higher ups. Especially since you wish to attend the Jujutsu School in Tokyo. This is the only time I’ll tell you to be more like your sister, since she knows how to obey.”

“Kaori.”

“Kaori.”

“Kaori?” Your eyes shoot open to find Satoru standing over you. “You know what? Never mind.” You kick your blanket off of you and jump out of bed. “What’s going on?” You ask, a surge of adrenaline now pumping through your blood. “Nothin’ much,” he sighs. “You were supposed to wake up twenty minutes ago. Yaga already gives me enough crap about being late, I don’t need you making it look like a Gojo thing.”

You let out a sigh of relief, but your body refuses to calm down: your hands and legs shaking as if you were twelve years old with a dead woman hung above you again. “Yeah,” your voice fell flat. “I’ll start getting ready.”

“You’ll have fun here,” Satoru sets a hand on your shoulder. “I promise. The first day is hard, but you’ll get used to it.

You nod, bile collecting in your throat despite you empty stomach as you remember the estate you’ll forever be tied to. But you weren’t there now. You could have fun and memories to look back on fondly when you marry Naoya. 

Starting today, you were a girl with a plan to get strong and find the happiness Satoru says you’ll have. 

Chapter Text

“The three of you are ranked higher than typical first years,” Yaga’s voice carries through the classroom heavier than most, hitting your sensitive ears like a hammer, causing you to wince, he notices and speaks softer, “So, you’re being sent on a grade two mission.” Haibara nods enthusiastically, while you and Nanami remain stone-faced. “It’s standard, exorcize the curse. But you must be careful, three kids have gone missing. Your job is to find them dead or alive and bring them to their families.”

“It’s only been a week,” Nanami grumbles. “I can’t believe we’re already being sent on dangerous missions.” The three of you were learning more and more every day: curses, techniques, how to wield cursed tools, etc… It was fun, like Satoru said it would be, you were just struggling to understand nearly half of what the two boys were saying. Pop culture was new to you, but almost everything was. You haven’t seen Satoru around as much as you thought you would, but it made the lying easier. 

“He’s a real tough guy, huh?” Haibara says as you all walk towards the front gate. “Yeah, but it makes sense considering his job.” Nanami carried a hefty backpack, most likely a cursed object or weapon. “His muscles are huge! I gotta ask him what his diet is.” You walk in between the two boys, your nose is lost in your phone trying to decode whatever new acronym Satoru texted you. “He’s a grade one sorcerer and at least over twenty, it must be years of hard work and discipline,” Nanami says, swinging his head to keep his long side bang out of his eyes. “Man, I really wanna get the results without the work, y’know? I tried going on a diet, but I ended up eating a bunch of food like an hour later.” Nanami nods his head, “Yeah, it’s kinda hard sometimes.”

“What about you Gojo?”

“What about me?” You close your phone and clip it to the waistband of your skirt. “Diets, have you ever tried one?” You shake your head. “Not me personally, but Satoru would only eat burgers from some chain restaurant for roughly two months.” Haibara holds back a laugh, “Really?” You manage to crack a small smile. “Yeah, he tried to get me into it but I could not go longer than two days with the same food.” 

“Me either,” Nanami says. “I have to eat something at least slightly different the next day.”

The three of you continue speaking about useless stuff until a jujitsu assistant arrives in a car similar to the one Satoru drove. The conversation fell as an overly serious brunette started going over the mission again. When they dropped you off at the mission site, an abandoned elementary school, they made a veil and wished you all a simple ‘good luck’.

“They were a real joy,” Haibara huffs, stretching his arms above his head. “Tell me about it,” Nanami replies. You ignore their complaints and lower your blindfold, your eyes trace over the building. There’s more than enough curses here to set you on edge, but they’re all incredibly weak. “We should head in and locate the children before we do anything,” you say, pushing the hair out of your face. “The curse is only a grade two, we should be fine.” Haibara and Nanami snap out of their mini-conversation and focus up. “Sounds good, Gojo,” Haibara hums as you make your way to the front entrance of the school.

It doesn’t take long for the curse to burst through a classroom wall in typical curse fashion. Haibara summons his shikigami, three large frog creatures with wings sprouting from their backs, to distract the curse while Nanami sheaths his large butcher knife. Thanks to Nanami’s 7:3 ratio technique, the curse is significantly weaker and tries to fight Haibara’s shikigami, giving you a perfect opening. You manipulate the curse’s energy against itself, causing the curse to explode before fading away. “Damn,” Haibara scratches the back of his neck, “If the curse wasn’t so weak, I’d pick the orb up and give it to him.” You walk over and crush the remains of the curse. “That killing blow was so effortless,” Nanami says. “You’re cursed energy has got to be off the charts.” You shake your head. “The two of you gave me an opening.”

You hear a thud from the room the curse came from. Walking through the hole that the curse left behind, you find two little girls and a boy huddled up in the corner. Haibara hurries over, but they retreat further back into the corner. Nanami tries to coax them out, saying he has candy but none of them listen. One of the little girls runs to you, grabbing your skirt and rubbing her little face against your leg. You freeze, unsure of how to respond. The two other kids follow her, the older girl doesn’t cry into your skirt but glues themself to your side while the little boy demands to be picked up. You toss your hair back and place him on your hip, no questions asked. You weren’t good with kids. Okay with them, on a good day maybe. The other clans often had babies and sometimes Kamo and Zenin mothers would let you hold their babies if women were dismissed from the meetings early, but they would always cry if you had your eyes covered. Rendering you more or less a little frightened by them. This time, however, felt different. Natural even.

“Why’d they come to you?” Haibara asks. You shrug. “I do not know, I’m not very good with kids.” 

Before you’re able to do anything, another curse breaks through the ground, swallowing Haibara’s shikigami. It was at least a grade one, with the amount of cursed energy it emits. Without thinking, you form a barrier around you and the kids. Nanami is straight into the attack, while Haibara summons another shikigami, a multitude of little crow-like birds. The curse is significantly weakened again by Nanami’s technique while Haibara distracts the curse and manages to throw a desk at the thing’s eye. The curse falls to the ground and explodes, rendering the two boys in curse blood while you and the children remain untouched. 

You lower the barrier and giggle at both of their faces. Haibara’s smile is temporarily gone before he starts laughing with you. Even Nanami, ever the stoic one, lets out a small huff of joy. Haibara even dares to flick some of the curse blood at you, but one of the girls starts crying. You bite back a bite of laughter as you pat her head. “That was at least a grade one,” Nanami says breathlessly. “Yeah but this was supposed to be a grade two,” Haibara replies, his smile dropping. “It was a miscalculation or they didn’t track the second curse,” you pull your blindfold back up, “Either way, one of us could have been seriously injured. Those kinds of mistakes shouldn't be allowed.”

The three of you leave the veil after hosing down the boys with the school’s garden hose. They’re soaking wet, but that’s better than being covered in curse guts. You walk the children home. It wasn’t much trouble, and Haibara didn’t want to train with Yaga for the third time this week. “The guy’s brutal,” he sighs. 

Parents attempt to give any of you money, but you all politely decline. “Please, it’s the least we can do,” the mother of the two girls almost begs. “You three are saints, please.”

“No, it’s alright ma’am,” Nanami says, with Haibara giving a thumbs up, “Yeah, we have enough.” You interrupt the two with, “This boy cannot talk, do you know where he would live?” The woman seems surprised at your appearance, blue eyes and white hair weren’t exactly common in Japan. “Uh, the house is two doors down,” she stumbles over her words. “My girls play with him all the time.” You set the boy down and bow, with Nanami and Haibara following you. “Thank you,” you all say.

The three of you arrived back without much trouble, after a quick lunch (and everything showers) you were sent to the training field for afternoon training with Yaga and the second years. None of you wore your uniforms, opting for more comfortable track suits. Nanami wore a white tank top, black zip-up, and navy blue Adidas track pants, Haibara wore a band tee and gray sweatpants, and you wore a typical training gi with pants rather than a skirt and your hair tied into a low bun.

The Kyoto exchange students, third years, were using up their last few minutes of training to the max. One of the third years, a tall, black-haired Kamo you recognize from the last winter solstice celebration. “Gojo (…)?” He exclaims, looking over his shoulder to get a good look at you. Kamo Kenji, another possible suitor if Naoya hadn’t been an option. Nanami and Haibara pause a step behind you. The boys exchange a confused glance before listening. “I thought the clan head was joking when they said you would attend Tokyo.” You pause to bow your head respectfully as a greeting, but he refuses to do the same, making you clench your fists. “Kamo, it has been a long while,” you reply, harsh words boiling under the cover of estate-trained tranquility. “Are you still on the path to being the clan’s head?” He stands up, revealing his yukata-style uniform. “Why do you care?” He grumbles. “You should be worried about being a Zenin’s little breeding—”

Haibara covers his mouth with his hand while Nanami gasps, both of their cursed energy spikes, almost furious. The word hangs in the air like a stench. You were used to being called names, that was the punishment of being born a woman. By the way everyone around you reacts, you have an uneasy feeling that what he said was wrong.

The way women were spoken about within the isolated bubble of the big three clans was never very high. It became a common topic of conversation over the years. Members would never announce their opinions, but everyone knew what they were thinking. Men were made for leading, while women were made to carry the legacy. You never felt good about it, but you really didn’t challenge it. You were expected to take it and not make it a big deal. 

“Y-You can’t talk to a girl like that,” one of Kamo’s classmates says. Kenji scoffs, “Talk like what?” 

You silently dismiss his words and turn to find Haibara hurrying up the stairs. 

“Kamo!” You look at the top of the stairs to find Yaga shouting and his confused students just behind him. Haibara is two steps in front of the large man. “Leave the field now, or you’ll be exempt from the school exchange!”

“But-“

“Care to explain to your head about why you were excluded?”

Kenji scoffs and shoves past you, knocking you off balance. Nanami grabs your shirt and pulls you back up, but you brush his hand off of you. You’re able to hear Satoru yell at Geto, telling the other to let go of him, but Yaga shuts them up. Kenji glares at Satoru as he walks past and Satoru narrows his eyes through his glasses. The other Kyoto students follow, most apologizing profusely as they hurry past to find Kamo.  

“Are you alright?” Nanami asks, his normally stoic face now painted with a mix of worry and anger. “Why wouldn’t I be? He did not say anything outlandish.” Nanami’s eyes widen, “Gojo, he called you–” He’s interrupted by a fuming Satoru, “Those dirty Kamo inbreds,” he huffs, making his way to you. “Ignore what Kenji said, he’s just salty a three-year-old took his place as heir.” 

“He didn’t say anything worth all this attention,” you mumble. “Let’s just drop it.” 

“What did he sa—“

“Satoru,” you’re thankful you chose to wear your blindfold, as your eyes begin to burn and your throat begins to close, “I said drop it!” You can’t cry. Not here. Not in front of you classmates.

You swallow and suck your bottom lip between your teeth. Before anyone can speak, Yaga makes his way over to you. “Training is still on. Everyone warm up,” he motions to you, “I just need to have a chat with Gojo.” 

“Let’s get on the field before the juniors take it,” Geto says, shifting the conversation. Haibara walks past you, twists his head to look back, and smiles before catching up with the other. Once they’re out of earshot, Yaga quiets his voice to speak to you. “Are you okay?” He asks. “I’m unsure why everyone’s overeating,” you reply, a little too hastily. “Whether or not that’s how the clans communicate with one another, what he did is unacceptable on school grounds,” Yaga lowers himself so he’s on eye level with you, “Everyone is your equal, and you are everyone’s equal.” Your throat begins to tighten, rendering you unable to speak. No one has spoken to you like that before. Not the elders. Not the servants. Not even Satoru. Yaga notices and gives you a soft smile. “Don’t worry about it, you shouldn’t have to deal with them again.” You remain silent, fear that you’ll cry if you speak.

Yaga then barks at your classmates to begin sparring and walks down, with you following just behind him. You refuse to speak for the rest of the afternoon except for small gestures. The tears threatening to fall down your cheeks and the tightening of your throat left you with the fear of breaking down.

From what, you weren’t sure. You were used to harsh words against women. But you weren’t used to so many people coming to protect you. At least, not physically. Haibara and Nanami didn’t bring it up at all during training, while Satoru kept poking you about it. He kept asking what he said but you would only shake your head and tell him to stop. Satoru quits it halfway through training, but keeps looking over at you as you remain ever so quiet.

“I don’t know why she doesn’t tell me stuff anymore,” Satoru is now lying on Suguru’s bed while Shoko stands outside smoking and Suguru sits next to your brother, “She used to follow me everywhere not even a year ago, now she’s acting like I broke her doll or something.” Suguru sighs and moves to lie down on his side next to Satoru, who has one leg on the bed and one on the ground. “She’s probably not adjusted to everything yet,” he says. “Yeah but, I adjusted just fine! We grew up the same.” Shoko takes a long drag, smoke escaping her lips as she speaks, “But she’s obviously not cocky, or loud, or a showboat. She thinks of herself differently than how you think of her.”

Satoru groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. “But she used to be so expressive all the time,” he sighs. “Now she’s like a statue. I keep asking her what’s wrong but she hits me with this ‘I’m fine, nothing to talk about’ bullshit.”

“If she’s acting like this, something must have happened while you were away, Satoru,” Suguru looks at Satoru through his lashes, “What could have happened?”

“I don’t wanna think about that, Suguru,” he whines. “The Gojo clan sucks. Like a lot. They could have done a million things—“ Satoru pauses for a moment before shooting out of bed, “You don’t think they would have married her off do you?!”

Shoko rubs the cigarette bud on her shoe before throwing it in the trash bin. “Don’t be stupid, it’s 2006, nobody’s trying to arrange marriages anymore.” Satoru shakes his head and sighs. “That’s not always the case,” he corrects. “The three clans are stuck in the past. They tried to marry me and (...) off just before we came to school.”

“I doubt they would do that,” Shoko says, closing the sliding door and sitting down on the floor in front of Suguru’s bed. “You never know,” Suguru says, voice laced with concern. “I wouldn’t want you to invade her privacy, but maybe check her mail box before she learns about it. Just in case.”

2:56AM.

You couldn’t sleep. 

Your head was spinning, your bed was stiffer than usual, and Kamo’s words kept ringing in your ears.

Instead of lying around and doing nothing, you creep your way to the commons, where you find a familiar blond boy reading by the dim lighting of a study lamp. “Couldn’t sleep?” He asks without looking up. “Yeah.” Nanami pats the chair next to him, and you take it without hesitation. Your arms fold atop the desk’s surface and you rest on one side of your face, your eyes looking up at him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, I’m not going anywhere.”

“What did Kenji say that was so bad?”

Nanami sighs, taking off his reading glasses and setting them between the open pages of his book. “It’s nothing worth repeating,” he rests his cheek on his fist and looks at you, taking in your uncovered eyes and unstyled hair, “Misogynistic crap, really.” Your blue eyes glow, emitting a soft hue to the surrounding darkness. They reflect off of Kento’s face, making his brown eyes shimmer. “I assume I’m not used to it being taboo,” you yawn, the day of training and fighting finally catching up to you. “You shouldn’t be used to that, y’know,” Nanami moves his readers and closes his book before copying you and resting his head in his arms.

“What did you do before you came to Jujitsu High?” You ask suddenly. “I went to school,” he smiles at you, “Middle school sucks, by the way.” You smile back at him. “I would be uncomfortable with more than two kids my age, so I doubt it wouldn’t suck.”

You both stay in each other’s presence for a few minutes, soaking in each other’s gaze. “The three of us should go somewhere sometime,” Nanami breaks the silence, “You mentioned that you’ve never been to a restaurant before. Haibara knows of a few quiet, hole-in-the-wall places so he could take us this weekend.”

“That would be nice,” you yawn once more. “We should go to bed now. Who knows what monster training Yaga’s going to put us through tomorrow,” Nanami lifts his head and stretches his arms above his head, “Goodnight, Gojo.”

“(…).”

“Mhm?”

“You can call me (…), so you don’t mix me up with my brother.”

“Of course,” he gets up from his chair and offers his hand to help you down, “(…).” He says your name like you’re a person. Not the lady of the Gojo estate, Naoya’s betrothed, or a shield. You could feel the tips of your ears heating up. You take his hand. You didn’t need it. You’re not fragile. You take it anyway and quietly walk next to him until you both reach your doors. “You can call me Kento if you want,” Nanami says. “Haibara already calls me that, so you can too.”

“Kento,” his name rolls off your lips like honey, “I’ll remember that.”

He goes still, as if something happened to him.

“Goodnight (…).”

“Goodnight Kento.” 

You close your door with a click. Your back slides down your door as your heart beats against your rib cage. You catch your lips sliding up to your ears as you look at your hand.

Oh.

Oh no.

Chapter Text

You wrap your blanket around your body like a cocoon. The light of your eyes reflects off the wall and back at you. “This is so stupid,” you grunt, turning over and just tossing your blanket messily on the bed. “Fucking shit.” Call me (...), really? An engaged woman wouldn’t be acting like that. You scold yourself, hoping that will force you to sleep, but your eyes refuse to close, and your brain refuses to slow down. Rather than attempting to get sleep that won’t come you choose to get ready for the day. 

You unwrap yourself from your blanket and stumble out of bed and towards your full-length mirror. Miho had packed you several pairs of her old pajamas, all bright tropical colors. Today, you were draped in a pink and blue striped long-sleeve set. Your yukatas proved to be too warm (and you missed Miho’s color), so you opted for these instead. With your bare feet shivering at the thought of the cold ground, you make your way to your full mirror and sit down on your calves like you would every morning when servants would attend to you.

You brush through your hair like you would any other day with your jade comb, the perfect white strands cascading down your back. Your mind remained focused on a particular blonde boy. The forbidden fruit. Of sorts. Naoya would be pissed to know that you were growing fond of another man.

You glance at your wrist. The bruise was long gone. But the fear wasn't. 

By the time other students were waking up, you were already properly dressed. Which was good enough until you realize that you need to wash your face and brush your teeth. You leave your room after grabbing your toothpaste, toothbrush, and face wash, only to find Nanami walking to the boy’s bathroom with Haibara, Satoru, and Geto. They’re all chatting, while Haibara sees you and waves with a huge smile on his face before turning back around and nodding to whatever bad joke Satoru made. 

You smile back at him before making your way to the girls’ bathroom. You find Shoko in the middle of washing her face, a black headband holding her hair back. “Oh hey, Gojo jr,” she says teasingly. “Good morning Ieiri,” you reply, setting your stuff down. “Call me Shoko,” she replies. “We’re the only girls, so it's best we get comfortable.”

You nod your head. “(...), then. I hope we can be good friends.” Shoko splashes water on her face before wiping it off with a hand towel. “I already like you a lot more than your brother,” She smirks at you, “You’re too damn humble for a Six Eyes user, but hey, it’s better than being overly cocky all the time.”

“Satoru didn’t act like this before coming to the school,” You brush your teeth machically, bright blue eyes staring back at you in the bathroom mirror, “Besides the overconfidence.” Shoko smiles. “You two are total opposites, y’know? It's cute.”

“Cute?” You glance over at her while she's taking her headband off, running fingers through her hair before parting it. “Yeah. It’s really cute. You’re both clueless about anything social but still end up polar opposites on how you interact with people.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

 You spit, rinsing it down with tap water. “It’s not a bad thing. Anyway,” she changes the topic, sensing your discomfort, “...we should hurry off before the dudes eat everything before we get a chance.

“Hey, Gojo! That’s cheating!” Haibara exclaims, pushing past the grumpy Nanami and drowsy Geto. “It’s not cheating!” Your brother yells from the other end of the hallway. “Infinity is an advantage!”

Shoko rolls her eyes as she puts a cigarette in her mouth and lights it with a blue lighter. You walk beside her, shoulders barely brushing. “You should meet Utahime soon,” Shoko stretches her arms above her head, “I think it's best to hang around more girls. Especially as a sorcerer.”

“What makes you say that?” You ask, pulling your blindfold down as you step into the morning sunlight. “I mean, you’re surrounded by mostly guys. That’s gotta be tiring to some degree.”

Most of your life revolved around the idea that you were a servant to man. Whether it’s one or every. You were expected from the age of seven to be able to serve tea and host ceremonies without speaking a word. It was expected out of you for being a woman, among other things. Being strong and silent was your end goal. Or… it wasn’t yours but you were hardly allowed to back your own decisions.

“I would assume,” You reply, waving her smoke away from your nose. “While most men are mostly decent, there are always exceptions.” Naoya, You almost say, but bite your tongue before you do. “I have gotten used to it over the years.”

“That’ a shitty way to live,” Shoko takes a long draw from her cigarette, “Getting used to being treated like crap? Yeah, no thanks.”

You both make it to the cafeteria after a long chat about weightless things, finding Satoru with a plate stacked taller than a mountain with whatever the school was feeding you that day. “Gojo jr and Shoko, how are you ladies doing this morning?” Geto waves at you both, a cat-like grin on his face. “You sound like a pimp,” Shoko remarks, earning a snicker out of everyone except both you and Satoru. “Pimp?” Satoru asks, his mouth stuffed full with rice. “What is that? You ask, head tilted to the side in confusion. “Oh nothing,” Geto sighs, a soft smile on his lips. He leans back in his chair, spreading his legs carelessly. Satoru notices and mimics him. 

“Y’know,” Satoru changes the topic, leading you all into a gossip session, “I did some digging, (...), and Kenji is getting black lash from his clan members for his actions yesterday.” You seat yourself across from him, with Nanami just next to you and Haibara on the other side of him. “That does not sound plausible, Satoru,” Shoko set a bowl of miso in front of you and you thanked her silently with a nod, “The Kamo clan may have a reputation for being polite, but there’s no way they would hound Kenji for any word against me. You, perhaps, but still I doubt.”

“Are none of the big three jujitsu clans on good terms?” Nanami asks slowly, unsure if he’s invading or not. “Yeah,” Haibara chimes in, “Gojo sometimes mumbles to herself about them. She usually sounds pissed, so probably?” You crease your brow as you bring the broth to your lips and swallow with precision. “The Zenin and Gojo clans have been at each other’s throats since like…” he pauses to think for a moment, “the Edo period.” Everyone’s eyes widened. “Really?” Shoko asks, “That’s a long time to be pissy at one another.”

“Tell me about it,” Satoru sighs. “Anyway, the Kamo clan did a bunch of experiments with human-spirit babies and no one really liked them after that.”

“Can we not talk about the clans?” You ask, voice stiffer than you intended. “The Kamos creep me out and Kenji might be around the corner hearing us talk poorly about his family.” Satoru rolls his eyes. “I go against him in the individual battles today,” he leans back in his chair as Shoko and Haibara start chatting each other up while Nanami and Geto remain in your and Satoru’s conversation, “It’s not like he could do very much to me anyway.” You shrug, knowing there was mostly truth to that. “You’re so cocky,” Geto frowns, “If he beats you, I’m going to laugh in your face.” Nanami smiles at his comment. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Satoru takes another bite while Suguru giggles. 

“What did you get, Kento?” You turn to look at the blonde through your blindfold, unlike last night in the commons. “I wasn’t too hungry this morning, so I got buttered toast and tea.” You nod your head at his answer. “I still do not know how that toaster-machine works,” You sigh, causing Nanami to let out a huff of soft laughter. “So, you can't cook?” He asks, taking a bite of his breakfast. “Am I supposed to?” You ask, taking another spoonful of soup. “Not really,” Nanami replies after chewing, “Haibara can’t cook either. I can so you don't have to worry so much.” 

Your heart does the same fluttering thing from last night again.

Shit.

The cafeteria door slides open, revealing a stern-looking red haired girl, a shaggy brown haired boy, and a pissed off Kenji. You look away from Nanami and to the Kyoto third years. Kenji glares at you but doesn't say anything, your face remaining the same stone cold expression it alwayd did. The shaggy brown haired guy smiles and waves. “Hey! I didn’t think we’d see you guys until later. How’re y’all doin’?” Haibara perks up and waves at him. “Hi! You guys must be Kyoto students!” Nanami smacks his shoulder but he doesn't stop smiling until he spots Kenji. Geto bits back a smile while the gears in Satoru’s head turn for a good insult. “Sorry about Kamo,” the red haired girl says. “He’s unaware of many modern social taboos.”

“Yeah we saw that alright,” Satoru replies coyly, causing Kenji’s brow to crease. 

“You better watch it, Gojo,” Kenji warns. “I have more experience than you do. Strongest or not.”

“Watch who you are talking to.” Your voice was strangely bitter as you fists clench around your spoon. Years of subtle worship boiling closer and closer to the surface. Nanami glances at you with discomfort, causing you to unclench your muscles. “Or what?” Kenji scoffs, causing the shaggy boy to hit him. “My alone sister could take you out. I’m not afraid of a grade one.”

“You Gojo—“ Kenji starts, his hot headedness getting ahead of him, allowing for the red haired girl to shove him back outside the cafeteria doors. “Sorry,” the shaggy boy mumbles, “We wanted him to apologize, really, but he’s kind of an asshole.”

“You’d think,” Shoko huffs, causing Geto to choke on his drink. Your mask slips and your nose scrunches up in a sign of displeasure. “What’s that for?” Nanami asks, causing you to release the tension in your face. “Nothing.”

“We should get to warming up,” Geto says, collecting his and Shoko plate before sighing at the sight of Satoru’s. “Yeah!” Haibara exclaims. “The individual battles are today. I’m so excited to watch you fight Geto!”

“Huh?! Whadda about me?” Satoru whines, causing Haibara to panic slightly. “N-No, that’s not what I meant at all! I’m excited to watch you all!”

“He’s messing with you Haibara,” Geto chuckles. “Don’t let him get to you.”

Haibara sits in between you and Nanami, often standing and applauding whenever a Tokyo student does something cool. You hadn’t lost eye contact, even if he wasn’t sure if you were looking at him, with Kenji. His black eyes bore into your blindfold. He was beyond pissed. Your attention broke off as he stood up and prepared to fight your brother. Yaga was patting your brother’s back, telling him to stay focused while fighting. You shift in your seat, preparing yourself for the violence ahead. 

Putting a hotheaded Kamo and an overconfident Gojo was like signing the school grounds up for demolition.

“This is stupid,” you grumble, causing Haibara to pause his cheers. “What makes you say that?” Satoru strikes first, his blue technique already working as a piece of the training field comes flying towards the stands. You yank Haibara down, a stray rock barely scratching his head. “That’s why.”

Nanami’s eyes widen. “Holy shit,” he mumbles, leaning forward to get a closer view. “He can really do that?”

“He’s holding back,” you twirl a piece of hair around your finger, “Satoru wants Kenji to be beaten but not killed, so he has to be careful if he does not want to start a war.”

You summon a barrier around the three of you, planning to hold it until the end of the match. “Thanks,” both boys reply. You don’t answer. 

Kamo had been slashed somewhere on his body, his blood trickling out as he attempted to form a blood net around Satoru. Unfortunately for him, Satoru’s Infinity is fully activated. The blood smears around the barrier, and freezes as Satoru breaks free and begins landing hit after hit on Kenji. The battle ends in under three minutes.

You release the barrier as Yaga’s whistle blows. “They don’t call him the strongest for nothing!” Haibara exclaims, shooting back up to applaud and cheer. Nanami glances at Haibara then you. “I bet you could have beat him sooner,” he remarks. “Gojo showboated too much.”

“I doubt it.” The words came out mechanically.

Nanami doesn’t speak after that for a while.

Satoru hasn’t broken a sweat since he entered and left the field. It almost pissed you off. “Why don’t we go to that karaoke place in the city to celebrate?” Your brother throws himself just beside you, with Geto behind him. Shoko lazily drags her cigarette while typing on her phone and sits behind your brother and his best friend. “Won’t Yaga be mad if we do?” Nanami asks, earning a scoff from Satoru. “Don’t be so up tight, Yaga doesn’t care.”

“As long as we make it back before curfew,” Geto interrupts.

Before you know it, both you and Nanami are dragged along to Tokyo. Given that you both were quieter than the others, you fell back as they led the way. “I hate singing in front of other people,” Nanami says, his eyes drifting towards the many lights of the big city. You stare at him as he rambles about nothing important. “At least there should be good food, right?”

With the sun beginning to set, there was bound to be odd, nocturnal city creepers sniffing around where they shouldn't. “Heya young lady.” You jolt as a pair of unfamiliar hands slam down on your shoulders, you turn around to find a balding man with a poor quality business suit and the smell of tobacco on his tongue. He takes a piece of your hair as he breathes in your face.

For a split second, you see Naoya.

The sneer. The entitlement. The way he touches without permission.

Your body freezes.“What model material, eh? Lemma take a few, raw photos of ya’,sweet cheeks, the men will love such a dove like you.”

You freeze, your world pausing as he gets closer to your face. Your training tells you to still, smile, and remain polite while your gut tells you to run. You’re unsure what to listen to.

Nanami, having watched the interaction, punches the man after minor hesitation. The man stumbles back, but attempts to come back. Without thinking, your summon a barrier-wall between you and the man. 

 “C’mon (...),” Nanami’s voice left no room for argument as he grabbed your hand, “The others are just ahead.”

Haibara turns his head back, seeing you and Nanami holding hands as a man stumbles just behind you. You shift instinctively towards Nanami as he increases both of your walking paces. The man eventually leaves you alone, but you remain shaken. “Are you alright?” Nanami asks, his hand staying firm on yours. “Um,” you bashfully let go of his hand as you make eye contact with a smirking Haibara, “Y-Yeah, thank you for– um– getting rid of him.”

You make it to the karaoke place without further issues, except the large nightlife and drunk adults. You’ve learned to tolerate alcohol, especially after your many encounters with the Zenin clan head. Satoru shoved everyone into a brightly colored room with a table in the middle. You immediately sit down, your covered eyes still processing way too much for your liking. Nanami and Shoko are just beside you, picking up menus without question. Geto, Satoru, and Haibara are all trying to figure out what CD they’re going to play first.

“Are you alright?” Nanami asks as he hands you a menu. “Yeah,” you nod your head slowly, “There was no need to punch him… but thank you.” You were still processing the man’s actions, part of your brain was numb to it while the other half wanted to see him get punched again. Loud, vibrating music comes from the speakers along with Haibara and Satoru’s cheers, tearing you out from your thoughts.

The three boys begin screaming the lyrics to some pop song you’ve never heard of. Naanami does not concern himself with their shenanigans as he begins flipping through the cyan menu. “Would you share some fries with me?” He asks. “Haibara mentioned something about the portions here being huge.”

“Of course,” you reply, “But I’m afraid I do not know what a fry is.”

“They’re just fried potatoes with salt. They're actually pretty good,”

After Haibara and Satoru blow out their lungs by screaming the high note, your brother drags Geto up to sing with them. The three break out into song as Haibara beats a small tambourine. On a little tablet, Shoko places an order for some weird green soda and a basket of fries. “The loudasses will order when they get tired,” she says.

As the three boys sing to their hearts’ content, Nanami shares his fries with you. He wasn’t lying when he said that the portions were huge, the basket was at least the size of your head. Perfect to share.

You bring one to your mouth with your fingers, copying Nanami, and bite down. Your eyes widen in surprise. “Good, right?” He asks, a small smile forming on his lips. “Yeah,” you take another bite, “That’s really good!”

The night is still young by the time you find the lack of sleep catching up to you. Nanami is in the middle of rambling about the book he’s reading when you lie your arms on the table, pushing away the empty basket.

“I am still listening,” you mumble, gazing at him through your blindfold. You can see the outline of his face and the constant movement between your singing peers, but you can’t see any color. Hesitantly, you pull your blindfold up, revealing one of your eyes. 

Nanami pauses from his rant about an unnecessary romance in one of his books and asks, “Why’d you do that?” Shifting so he can rest his cheek on his palm. “Because I wanted to see you in color,” you reply before putting your mask back down. “I can only see black with a white outline when I cover them.”

“What do you see when theyre not covered?”

“Too much.”

“Like what?”

You pause. No one’s asked you that before. “Um… I see cursed energy and more mathematical things.  Weights, atoms, structures. Everything all at once. All the time.”

“Sounds exhausting,” he replies. 

“It is,” you feel your heartbeat increase drastically, “But sometimes, I like to see the world properly.”

“I like that,” he says. “You can’t see everything without exhausting yourself, so you cherish any small thing you can.” Nanami smiles at you softly, causing you to smile back.  He understands.

You like him.

God, you like him.

“Hey, thank you for punching that man,” you whisper.

“No lady should be worried about some douche trying to sell her some perverse shit, so it’s no problem.”

“Thank you Kento.” You lay your head in your arms and close your eyes, his face the last thing you see as you drift off. Warm. Safe. Content. Something you could get used to.

Shoko takes a photo, the flashing hitting the two of you perfectly. Nanami staring down at sleepy you with a dopey smile on his lips now remains forever in Shoko’s flip phone.

“Delete that!” Nanami exclaims, but is only met with a smirking Shoko as she takes another sip of her drink.

…

Your skirt lay on your midthigh, your undershorts keeping you decent as Satoru carries you on his back. His arms carry the weight his hips cannot while you rest your sleepy head on his shoulder. It was way past curfew, and you accidentally fell asleep during the last few songs, head resting on the table like a post-sugarcrashed toddler. Now, your older brother was carrying you piggy-back style as he dogged on Nanami for literally anything. 

“I can’t believe you’re holding hands with my sister,” Satoru says, jokingly glaring at the blonde boy. “Especially with your weird hair.” Geto slaps his arm as Nanami grumbles and rolls his eyes. “Nanami can be super nice when you give him the chance!” Haibara exclaims, with the same bubbling energy as he always does. “Plus, I think his hair is awesome. He looks like that American guy, Gerard Way!”

“Who?” Satoru asks. 

“The My Chemical Romance lead singer,”

Nanami replies with a huff, “One of the best artist of today.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Shoko lights her last cigarette of the night as she nods in agreement. “Didn’t Nanami punch out the creepy guy who was talking to her?” She asks, taking a drag with a puzzled expression on her face.

her face. “Wait–” Satoru almost drops you, “-There was a creep following her?!” He earns himself yet another slap on the arm from Geto. “Yeah, dipshit, you’re the only one who didn’t see.” Satoru scoffs. “Oh well… That’s good. That you punched him.” Nanami doesn't say anything back. “But your hair is still weird.”

Nanami scoffs and rolls his eyes. 

When the group arrives back, you're still asleep. Even after the train ride back. 

"Where the hell have you been?!" Yaga's voice echoes. Everyone freezes. "We can explain—" Satoru starts.

"Save it." Yaga's arms are crossed. Stern. Then he sees you. Asleep on Satoru's back. His expression softens. "...How long has she been out?"

"Since the third to last song," Nanami says quietly. Yaga sighs. "You all look exhausted. Go. Bed. Now."

"We're not in trouble?" Haibara whispers. 

"You're in trouble if you wake her up."

Everyone tip-toes to the dorms. Satoru carries you to your room and unlocks your door (how does he still have a key?). Satoru tucks you in, pulls your blanket up and removes your shoes before pausing.

When did his little sister get so grown up?

When did he stop noticing?

Satoru stares at your hair so similar to his, your face so resembling to his, and the only other pair of Six Eyes in he world. His fellow flesh and blood. One of the only people who mattered.

He leaves quietly. Closes the door with a soft click. In the hallway, Nanami's still there. "She okay?" he asks. "Yeah. Out cold." Satoru studies him. "You staying nearby?"

"My room's next door."

"Good." Satoru starts walking. Pauses. "Thanks. For today."

"You already said that."

"Yeah, well. Saying it again." 

Nanami nods.

Satoru leaves.

Nanami goes to his room, doesn't sleep for a while. Just thinking about her hand in his.The way she fell asleep feeling safe. The way Satoru said ‘thanks’ to him.

Maybe this is okay.

Maybe they're okay.