chapter 9: beaten but in control

cw: actually not much other than some bad flirting and mentions of sex
but also should mention that no relationship or behavior in this story should be idolized/emulated because for the large part they're all Not Good people

It is a cloudless, sunny day as Yuna wanders the neighborhood streets of Saitama, sipping on an iced coffee as she takes yet another cycle around the block. Mid-afternoon means that most adults are at work and most children are in school, leading to fairly empty streets, but Yuna still takes precautions to take a circuitous route that avoids street cameras and suspicious eyes. She is grateful to have such an unsuspecting appearance. In a light blue dress layered over a white blouse, she looks like any young mother taking her afternoon stroll, but one cannot be too certain that a Zen'in spy is not loitering about, attempting to sniff out the Fushiguro residence that Yuna has only recently painstakingly identified.

She had told Yaga she was visiting Saitama, which he had interpreted as Ogawa, to lay to rest whatever unresolved feelings she has with the corpse of the child her students had diabolically exhumed. Yuna let Yaga believe this, because she is not lying, being in Saitama, though she knows the only way she will ever return to Ogawa is in a box. Instead, she is in Saitama proper, stalking children in the least creepy sense of the term.

She lingers behind a lamppost that stands directly behind the apartment building the young Fushiguro children reside in. She suspects, but cannot be certain, that they live in it without any adult supervision. How they have survived without child services finding out is beyond Yuna's understanding; she thinks that not living with Fushiguro Toji is likely a boon, though she is somewhat stunned to find that the woman from whom Toji has assumed a last name is supposedly just as absent and terrible of a parent as he.

Yuna plasters several talismans with the characters "Hidden" and "Barrier" written in her blood to the wooden post. She pricks her finger with a small needle and presses it against the "Barrier" character on her forearm. The character shines green briefly as her Cursed Energy spans out in a five-meter direction on all sides of the building, connecting with talismans she'd placed earlier. She cannot afford a larger radius; a jujutsu sorcerer well-versed in Barrier techniques would be able to tell that something is off, even if they cannot locate exactly what is being hidden.

She is fairly confident, though, that Fushiguro Megumi is as well-protected as he can be without his knowing. Yuna had snuck into the apartment earlier in the day, after the children had walked on their own to school, and left small talismans with traces of her blood all throughout their belongings—taped under their beds, stuffed into the cotton of their plushies (carefully stitched back together), sewn into the bases of their backpacks. They will offer slight protection outside the confines of the actual home and will function as tracking signals for Yuna, as long as she returns to the city monthly to renew her seals and deposit Cursed Energy.

Yuna hides the talismans on the lamppost by stapling several flyers for a lost cat over them. Once she is satisfied that the ofuda are clearly hidden from sight, she tucks her mini-stapler into her purse and prepares to leave.

"Um, excuse me?"

Yuna turns to find Fushiguro Tsumiki looking up at her, her black hair tied in two pigtails, her elementary school uniform pressed and proper, her faded pink backpack snugly tucked on both shoulders.

Yuna does not blink. "Yes?"

"Did you," says Tsumiki shyly, "lose your cat?"

"Yes." Yuna does not elaborate.

"Oh, okay." Tsumiki peers closely at the flyer that Yuna had posted. "She's cute! I think I saw her around the neighborhood last night."

That is entirely possible, given that Yuna had stolen someone else's flyers for someone else's lost cat.

"If I find her, I'll keep her and call that number!" Tsumiki beams, pointing at the flyer.

"Thank you."

Tsumiki beams harder. It makes Yuna want to look away. "You're welcome!"

"Are you coming back from school?"

"Yes, I'm going to pick up my little brother from kindergarten!"

"That's very responsible of you," Yuna notes. "What grade are you in?"

"Second!"

"Your parents must be very proud, to have such a responsible daughter."

Tsumiki blushes, but Yuna can tell it's more from embarrassment, less from the pleasure of being praised. "U-u-um, yes, t-t-they are."

It is not a good thing that Tsumiki is a terrible liar, given her and her brother's situation, but it warms Yuna's heart to witness the definition of innocence. Yuna kneels down so she and Tsumiki are face-to-face.

"What's your name?"

"T-Tsumiki," the child stammers.

"Tsumiki-kun, besides your parents, do you know other adults you can ask for help if you need it?"

"O-of course! There's an obaa-chan at the konbini near us who always gives Megumi and me snacks! A-and my teachers are very nice!"

Yuna nods politely as Tsumiki rattles off names, making a mental note to look into these adults and make sure none have any jujutsu affiliation, before standing up and patting Tsumiki on the head.

"Thank you for your help looking for my cat, Tsumiki-kun. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome!"

Yuna thinks about giving Tsumiki her phone number, just in case, but decides against it. Her seals already are too obviously hers if someone stumbles upon them, and she'd sworn a vow to hide the children from jujutsu sorcerers, not to be their guardian.

"Go pick up your brother now."

Tsumiki waves and trots off to the kindergarten only a block away, where she pulls a thin, pouting child out of the line. He has unruly black hair, and dark blue-green eyes that give away his lineage to anyone who has met Fushiguro Toji, or really, any Zen'in at all. He is his father's spitting image, down even to the baseline expression of disinterest.

Yuna finishes her iced coffee and heads back to the train station, several blocks away. She has always preferred driving on her own, but is still adjusting to the fact that she has lost half her vision and does not feel comfortable driving quite yet. She starts several messages to Toji.

Your son really looks like you.

You're a really shitty dad.

Why is your wife such a shitty parent too? Is that why you married her?

She deletes each rendition and settles on:

To: Reason You're Blind

[16:09] Barriers are up. Tsumiki-kun is sweet.

By the time she reaches the station and waits at the platform, she has a reply.

From: Reason You're Blind

[16:13] Cool. Here's a Kamo guy.
[16:14] Image attached.

It's a close-up photo of a man's face, or what used to be a man's face, except it looks like it has been crushed between what Yuna can only assume is Toji's bare hands. The eyeballs are dangling by what must be optic nerve fibers from the sockets, and blood gushes liberally from all orifices.

Yuna throws away her iced coffee, having lost her appetite. Luckily, the station is fairly empty, and no one is close enough to peer over her shoulder at her phone.

[16:17] I don't need photographic evidence, though I appreciate the effort.

[16:17] Really? You seem like the type who needs proof.

[16:18] We swore a binding vow. Proof would be you not being punished for breaking it.

[16:18] I guess.

Yuna gets into her car and starts the engine. Her phone buzzes again.

[16:19] Who's Tsumiki?

Yuna thinks about the beaming seven-year-old-girl taking care of her baby brother all by herself, without a clue of the stepfather who forgot about her existence. Toji should annoy her more than he does. She decides not to reply.

No matter how much Yaga wishes for it, things at the School don't return to normal. After a week and a half off, Yuna returns to teach the first-years. For a woman who just spent two weeks in prison, she looks better than can be expected, albeit thin enough that her clothes fall loosely, and her sallow skin sometimes stretches in odd ways when she speaks. She resumes their lessons as if no pause ever occurred, picking right up with Domain Expansions and criteria for their activation, and schedules intense trainings with the second years to mimic these conditions. Missions have picked up as spring advances, and everyone is busy, but the shift in how Yuna treats her students is undeniable.

"She can't even look at us," says Shouko on a rare occurrence when all three of their schedules coincide for a free afternoon. It has been drizzling on and off throughout the day, forcing all their activities indoors. They'd just watched the latest James Bond film in theaters at Satoru's behest and are now sharing some cocoa and pastries in a café as they wait for the rain to abate.

"Dunno what you're talking about," Satoru taps rapidly on his phone and doesn't even look up.

"You can't avoid this topic forever, Satoru," she frowns.

"I'm not, I literally have no idea what you're talking about, we were supposed to be talking about the movie and if Daniel Craig is coming into the Bond role—"

"Who are you even texting," interrupts Suguru. "Shouko and I are both here. You have no other friends."

Satoru sticks out his tongue. "I have lots of friends! So many friends!"

Shouko's phone buzzes. She flips it open and reads a text from Utahime. Can you tell Satoru to stop being such a dick, I don't have unlimited texting and all he's doing is sending self-portraits (dick emoticons).

"Utahime says to fuck off."

"Ugh, boring!" complains Satoru, but he sets down his phone. He opens his mouth wide. "Feed me, Suguru."

"Feed yourself, you lazy ass." Satoru scoops the last bite of chocolate cake into his own mouth. "Shouko's right. Morimoto-sensei treats us really differently now."

"Really," says Satoru offhandedly. "I barely noticed. She's still useless and lectures are still boring, but I think I'm starting to come up with the idea for a Domain."

"She's not doing solo lessons anymore." Yuna had just given Shouko the keys to the morgue, saying she was free to come and go as she pleased as long as she didn't leave behind a mess.

Satoru shrugs. "Eh. I don't think I need to drive anyway. Someone else will always be able to, and theoretically, I should be able to teleport over time."

"That's not the point, Satoru," says Suguru.

"Why are you guys acting like I'm the bad guy?" says Satoru, visibly annoyed. "It was your plan, Shouko, and you wanted to do it, Suguru, which is why I went along with it. Don't give me shit—"

"You aren't the bad guy," cuts in Shouko. "We all are, okay? I'm just saying clearly sensei is not happy with us and maybe we should talk to her about why we did it."

"Why the fuck is she unhappy." Satoru shovels the rest of the three patisseries in his mouth. "We saved her life, who cares how we did it. Plus, maybe she should think about what we had to sacrifice to get her out of a shitty situation she won't even explain to us."

Shouko just stares out the window. Instead of lightening up, the rain has renewed in force, slapping the glass of the café window like it has something to prove. The doorbell jangles and a group of schoolgirls duck into the entrance, drenched and laughing as they shake off their umbrellas and their raincoats. Shouko likes one of their jackets—a deep plum color with black trimmings. Maybe she likes the girl who's wearing it; she has dyed brown hair and a twinkle in her eye when she laughs. Shouko wishes she was hanging out with her instead, but then remembers that the stranger probably can't see curses, and therefore can never understand the majority of Shouko's life.

Part of her actually agrees with Satoru, for once. It's why it's taken her so long to bring this up, when she could've cornered Yuna on her own. But for all of Shouko's acid, she's not a confrontational person. She understands if Yuna is upset, but also thinks Yuna should understand the sore limitations of the available choices; the petty, childish part of her wishes that Yuna was grateful, even, for her quick-thinking students who cultivated a plan that relied on their resources and quick thinking to find such an obscure loophole to save Yuna's life.

"You won't need to be the Head of the family immediately, Satoru." Suguru always knows when he should soothe Satoru's nerves and when he should ignore them. "Your dad will be fine doing all the paperwork while you're still in school."

"It's the principle of the matter," grumbles Satoru. "I just don't see a need to apologize for something that we did to help her. I even warned her."

"You did?" Suguru says, surprised. "When?"

"When you guys were in Ogawa. I was bored, so I went to visit her. I didn't tell her the whole thing, just told her to not be mad, since we were just trying to help her."

"Satoru," sighs Suguru, "don't you think the fact that you preemptively told her not to be angry means there is a legitimate reason for her to be angry?"

Satoru considers this, like it is brand new information to him, and then discards it. "Nah."

"You're hopeless."

A waitress with braided pigtails walks over with the bill, and Suguru pulls out his wallet and puts down some bills. He smiles when he says thanks, and the waitress blushes and bows away. Satoru notices this and opens his mouth to make fun of it, but Suguru cuts him off.

"I can try and talk to her individually," he says. "Normally I'd say either of us, Shouko, but maybe your mom testifying will be a bit raw for her."

Shouko nods. Satoru points to himself.

"Why not me?"

"Do you seriously even need to ask that question?"

"I am a wonderful person. She would be blessed to speak with me."

Suguru shoves him lightly, but Satoru dramatically falls out of the chair, right as the waitress returns with Suguru's change.

"Suguru!" whines Satoru. "Ow! You're such a bully!"

"Oh my!" the waitress gasps and leans down to help Satoru up. "Are you okay?"

Satoru clasps both her hands in his, tilts his head lower so his glasses slip down and the waitress is hit with the full effect of his ocean eyes. He drops his voice an octave. "I am, now that you're here."

The waitress's cheeks are now the same hue as the raspberry tart that Shouko ordered to-go.

Suguru buries his face in his hands. "Let me kill him, Shouko. Please."

She shrugs. "I'm not stopping you. You're the one dating him."

Suguru pulls down on his cheeks like he's the subject of The Scream. Behind him, Satoru is still flirting with the worker, who is peering at him with such sparkles with her eyes that Shouko is certain she could power the café on adoration alone.

"What do you always say I have?" Suguru asks.

Shouko drains the rest of her lukewarm cocoa. "Shitty taste."

"Shitty taste," he agrees, like this is the ultimate explanation to his plight. He looks at Satoru with an expression that can only be described as affectionate, no matter how exasperated. It makes Shouko want to barf. "I just have really shitty taste."

Yuna drags herself to her office after dinner, every muscle in her body screaming terribly for a hot bath that must wait because she still needs to finalize her lesson plan for the next day. She had not expected training with Fushiguro Toji to be easy, by any means, but she feels rather indignantly that she is paying the man an exorbitant amount of money to literally beat her to a pulp.

Surely, she thinks, there must be a better way (there is, it obviously doesn't involve a man with the moniker "Sorcerer Killer," but somehow Yuna, who has always prided herself to be a rational thinker, is on a texting basis with the man who left her blind in one eye).

Toji had texted her abruptly in the late morning, right as she was finishing class, with the message that he'd found a good training site for them, followed by an address and a time. There was no question of whether she was available, or whether this was a convenient time or location for her. Yuna, being the accommodating fool she is, had re-scheduled a meeting with Yaga and instead had taken a bus and two trains all the way to Edogawa, where she'd met Toji in an abandoned factory. After making her cast a Curtain and verbalize that she consented to any pain inflicted through the training session, he'd made her exorcise a dozen curses lingering in the factory without using her Technique, and then proceeded to beat the shit out of her with one hand. ("I won't hit your face, because that's too obvious and the only good part about you.")

With the final warning to not heal through Reverse Cursed Technique, (because "That's cheating, you're not gonna grow if you can just heal away the injuries"), Yuna had hobbled back onto campus, her torso throbbing, legs aching, the taste of iron and regret in her mouth. Dinner had been less than satisfactory, but there wasn't much left in the kitchens, and Yuna honestly could not have kept much down after being hit in the stomach so many times.

She sits now at her desk, exhausted, head pounding, wishing desperately for painkillers but remembering she'd emptied the bottle on her trip to Saitama while dealing with the after effects of Miracle. Her lesson plan is three-fourths finished, made easier now that she herself has experienced a Domain, though she is unwilling to yield that information quite yet.

Her phone buzzes.

From: Reason You're Blind

[22:47] Same time and place tomorrow.

She texts back with one hand, too tired to exert the energy for both thumbs.

[22:48] I don't think that will be possible.

[22:48] ? Why.

[22:48] I do not think I will be able to move tomorrow.

[22:49] I went easy on you today. I only used one hand.

[22:49] I know. I was there. It does not change my situation.

[22:49] If you don't train harder, you're gonna get killed, and you're gonna get me killed.

[22:49] That may be a net gain for the rest of the world.

Toji's next reply comes after a slight delay, as if he had to think about what she'd really meant. The subsequent text means he understood her intentions exactly.

[22:52] You're seriously such a bitch. Do you know how many people would kill to have me train them?

[22:52] Yes.

[22:54] ?

[22:54] One. Me.

[22:54] You bitch.

[22:55] I really dislike that term.

[22:55] I can get a lot more colorful than this.

[22:56] I'm sure. Let's try for Friday.
[22:56] I really do appreciate your efforts. I will probably be more appreciative when I am in less pain.
[22:57] Goodnight.

[22:59] Sweet dreams, hummingbitch.

She should not laugh, because Toji, for all his false progressive pretenses, is a Zen'in-born misogynist through and through.

She can't help it. The laugh makes her ribs and everything inside them ache, punishing her for somehow being amused by the man who would have literally sold her to the Kamo clan, so she stops immediately.

(Something inside her, the ever-present stone that weighs in the bottom of her stomach, nudges her in reminder of the overpowering sorrow and emptiness she'd felt when Toji had sworn his binding vow. She tries to ignore it. She fails.)

There is a knock on her door, and Yuna sets down her phone to study the Cursed Energy lingering outside. It belongs to Suguru. She was expecting this, sooner or later.

"Come in."

Suguru opens the door. His hair has grown out, and he lets it trail down his back as it air dries. He's dressed in his casual clothing, a loose black T-shirt and wide linen pants. He looks like he's about to crawl into bed. She knows she has been distant with the students and feels somewhat badly for them; they have been working hard, and she has always worried more about Suguru's adjustment to the workload especially after the New Year. He remains as polite and charming as he always has been, but his smiles don't reach his eyes the same way they used to.

"Sorry to bother you this late, sensei." He bows his head slightly. "I've been waiting for you to return to campus all evening, and just thought I'd check one more time before I turned in for the night."

"Apologies for the trouble, Getou-kun." She gestures to the seat across from her. The action makes her arm tingle. "If you need me for an urgent matter, please text or call me so I can address you quickly. I was attending to other business off campus."

"No, it wasn't urgent. I just…wanted to chat." He sits down in the seat and looks somewhat expectantly at her.

"Oh." Yuna stands up despite the threat of all her muscles to snap in two. "Would you like tea, Getou-kun?"

"Barley tea would be great, if you have any."

"Certainly." She starts her water boiler and takes two mugs hanging from the nearest shelf. She has to take careful, shallow breaths with each movement—there is a very real possibility that Toji broke a rib, even though he'd sworn he'd dialed back his strength. Her head is throbbing by the time the water is boiled and she returns to her desk with two cups in hand.

Suguru takes his with a pleased hum. "Thanks, sensei. I know you're busy. I just…we just," he corrects, "have noticed a difference in our lessons recently and wanted to check with you if…everything is all right."

Yuna sits back in her seat and suppresses the desire to curse as pain jolts up her side. Her expression is a practiced neutral. "Everything is fine, Getou-kun."

"Right," he says uncertainly. "It's just…we've stopped solo lessons, and most of our afternoons, we're paired with the second or third-years, or we're sent on mundane missions."

She addresses each point like she's parrying a blow. "I'm afraid I don't have the time for solo lessons anymore. The second and third-years have much experience to offer. Mundane missions, however mundane, still need to be completed."

"Sensei." Something dark flashes in Suguru's eyes. "I don't think either of us need to play dumb here."

Yuna folds her hands over themselves and leans back in her chair. "Very well. I have decided that the way I approached the class prior to the events of the last month was inappropriate. After the verdict designated me a Cursed Object, I have decided to behave as such. I imagine the three of you would agree with that."

"Of course we don't," says Suguru, scandalized. "Sensei, the verdict was a technicality. We know it sounded bad but ultimately our goal was to keep you safe! Satoru said the Kamo clan would only accept your death as a proper outcome. There was no other way to prevent it than to have the Gojou clan take responsibility for you—"

"Getou-kun. Have you ever been owned?"

Suguru swallows. "No. Of course not."

"When my parents sold me to my husband, that's exactly how they phrased it: he would be responsible for me. What it really meant was complete ownership of me, my behavior, my body. I did not know any better, and I had no choice. Coming to Jujutsu High was the first time I had any agency over myself."

Yuna looks at her hands, clasped tightly in prayer. She has never broken out of the habit of making minor prayers, asking for minor blessings, to gods she knows do no listen. Across from her, Suguru looks uncomfortable, but he lets the silence simmer, allowing Yuna to continue.

"I do not expect you three to have known this context. I did not expect you three to be involved at all. But this outcome…" Her nails dig into the back of her hands, making parallel crescents. The new injury allows her body to redirect its attention away from everywhere else that is bruised. "I would not have chosen this for myself."

"But it kept you alive, sensei," says Suguru, defensive.

"I would have chosen to die," she says, "if it meant it was truly my choice, than to be owned."

"That's bullshit." It snaps out of Suguru before he hold it back, and he looks mildly horrified at himself for letting it out.

Yuna gives a faint smile. "You sound more like Gojou-kun with every passing day, Getou-kun. Perhaps your mother worried about your change for good reason."

Suguru looks stricken, and Yuna wishes she could take it back.

"I'm sorry, I didn't…" He rubs his temples nervously. "That's not what I meant. It wouldn't have been your choice to die, right? Like you didn't want to die. So in reality, didn't we give you the option you really wanted, which was to live?"

"I did not want to die, certainly, but I also did not get to dictate the terms of how I would live. I'm a Cursed Object now, Getou-kun. I am literally itemized and owned. I am worth two billion yen, give or take. I can be loaned, borrowed, stolen. However the Gojou family prefers, I can be used."

"Satoru won't do anything like that."

Yuna tilts her head. "Do you genuinely believe that? Perhaps not now, but in five years, ten years?" She should never voice this fear aloud, to Suguru, of all people, but she is fatigued and nearly dizzy from pain. "Do you allow yourself to really consider what Gojou-kun is capable of?"

Doubt certainly lingers on Suguru's face, but when he meets her eyes, they harden. "He wouldn't do it. I know him."

"I'm certain you do not." Yuna takes a sip of her tea. "It's late, Getou-kun. You should go to sleep."

"I…"

"I will get over it, I promise." The lie comes easily, like the pearl of barley she bites through before she swallows. "I just need time to adjust to my circumstances. Please bear with my being so unpleasant. I do apologize for it."

"You're allowed to be angry, sensei," mutters Suguru. "We just wanted to…explain ourselves."

"I understand. I am grateful to have such thoughtful students."

Suguru knows she doesn't believe it, but Yuna is too tired to convince him otherwise. He bids her goodnight, his footsteps trudging into the distance.

Yuna rests her forehead on her arms. She should know better than this. She does not have the luxury to be angry, especially at Suguru, who has always been so considerate of her. Her insides churn like a cauldron of bubbling spices when she thinks of his face when she'd said that his mother had been right—that he had changed, for the worse, had become callous and colder and crueler—who is she to say that, when all Suguru had ever done was to try and preserve a semblance of a sustainable moral code? Strength is meant to protect the weak, he'd once stated as his personal mantra—and isn't that exactly what he'd done, used his and Shouko and Satoru's strength to protect her?

But even so, why does Yuna still hate it so much?

Everything hurts, so, so terribly, but she deserves it.

She flips open her phone.

To: Reason You're Blind

[23:43] Tomorrow works. I'll be there.

"Oi."

Toji's staff whirls toward her face sharply—Yuna is barely able to bring her own staff up to block her temple in time. The wooden sticks clack forcefully enough that she is pushed several centimeters to the left. She readjusts her grip on the staff and whips the opposite end of her rod at him, trying to parry his blow and switching to offense in the same move, but he blocks her with his bare hand and then bonks his stick on the top of her head. She knows he is holding back still, but the impact is enough to make her wince.

"You're dead."

"I realize that," she pants.

"What's going on?" he frowns. "Your movements are way slower today."

"I'm still recovering from yesterday. And you said you wouldn't hit my face. Much less my blind side." She wipes her face against her shoulder. Toji hasn't broken a sweat, despite that they've been sparring for nearly half an hour. It makes Yuna more irritated than she normally allows herself to be.

"And you trusted me? You should know better." He taps the stick against her head again to reinforce his point. "Why are you distracted? I thought we were making progress."

Yuna pushes the staff away from her and heads off the dirty old gym mat Toji had "generously donated" for the purposes of their training. She bends down to search her bag for water, but Toji follows her and snatches it out of her hands like he's a maladjusted teenage boy teasing a crush.

"Fushiguro-san."

"It's rude to ignore people, hummingbird."

Yuna sits down on the dusty concrete floor of what used to be the main factory line and leans her head against the wall. Toji's eyes linger on the sweat gathering down her neck. Yuna knows how suggestive she looks, breathing hard, T-shirt drenched and clinging to her torso. She does not bother correcting her appearance.

"I ignored you because I know you do not seriously care why I'm distracted. I just am, Fushiguro-san. Let it go. I'm still paying you for the session."

Toji rolls his eyes but sits down next to her. He searches her bag and pulls out a store-bought onigiri for himself before tossing the bag at her.

"Waste of money if your head's not in it. You should've canceled."

"I thought being hit repeatedly would be enough of a distraction." She unscrews the cap off a bottle of water. "My misjudgment."

He chomps the onigiri. "What's going on?"

"We are not seriously doing this, Fushiguro-san."

"You wanna just sit here in silence?"

"I thought that would be your preference."

He shrugs. A piece of rice sticks to the corner of his lips. "I'm bored. We're here. I'm still getting paid. Just talk."

"I'm fine."

"Suit yourself."

He grabs the bag from her lap and rummages for another snack. "Got any more onigiri?"

"I didn't bring snacks for you. The one you ate was supposed to be for me."

"Stingy."

"I pay twenty-thousand yen for each session. You, on the other hand, complain incessantly about providing an old mat for us to train on."

"You know what I've realized? You're a lot nicer to everyone else. You're all polite and shit."

"How would you know what I'm like with everyone else? You never see me with anyone else."

He arches an eyebrow at her, as if it's obvious.

"You've been watching me?"

"Have to, if I'm tryna protect you. Good thing you don't leave campus much."

"No," she shakes her head. "I'm fairly careful. I really only leave for missions and recently…" She gestures between them. "For this, I suppose."

"Yeah, to hang out with me, so you can be a hummingbitch."

Yuna lets out a small laugh, stopped by rib pain. Toji's lips curl the barest amount.

"You do that more with me, too."

"What?"

"Nothin'. Fine, I'm stingy. You don't leave a fancy clan with loaded pockets. Gotta do what you can to get by."

She scoffs, remembering the profile on Toji she'd prepared prior to their first meeting. "Losing thousands at the horse races isn't just 'getting by,' last time I checked."

"I don't always lose."

Yuna waves her water bottle in his direction. "You seem like the stingy, loser type. The type that'd make a woman pay for the condoms."

Toji stiffens beside her, apparently surprised by the vulgarity of her jibe, but he recovers easily.

"Nah, I usually got a couple with me. The least I can provide for a guaranteed good time."

"You'd make her pay for the hotel room."

"Well, sure, if she needs the hotel room to fuck." He shrugs. "I can fuck anywhere. Don't need to pay for a separate space."

"Very sanitary, Fushiguro-san."

"I ain't picky. You, on the other hand, seem like a pillow princess. Need a five-star hotel with room service."

She just gives him a look, the one Yuki has always described as the, "Apparently, I should know better" look, and Toji grins.

"Insensitive?"

"As expected."

He fishes a pack of gum from the zipper compartment of her bag and unwraps a stick. "That husband of yours ever make you come?"

Yuna stills. Sure, she was the one who had set them on this path, and she knows Toji can be much crasser than she, but the question still startles her. She extends her hand for the gum, but he doesn't give it to her. Instead, he pops the stick in his mouth and chews, maintaining eye contact with her the whole time.

"Nah," he guesses. "You'd be a lot nicer if he had."

"I think it would've made little bearing on the whole situation."

"Meaning you would've still strangled him with your stillborn child's umbilical cord?"

She lets her hand drop. "I believe the term for this entire conversation is 'mood killer.'"

Toji's grin splits his face and causes his scar to contort in a way that makes Yuna want to smooth it out. Luckily, the fleck of rice falls off his face with the movement. "Was there a mood to kill? I told ya already, hummingbird, you're a little young for me."

Yuna just glances down at his pants. "I sincerely doubt that."

He lets out a laugh that is more a bark. "Here I was, thinking you were some pure-hearted lass, when in reality you're just a little minx. Your sorcerer friends know this side of you?"

"I am not different around them, other than considerably less annoyed."

"I sincerely doubt that," he parrots back at her.

"Give me back my bag, Fushiguro-san. I'll pay you, then leave."

"Pay me double, and I could get you to come," he jokes.

She snatches the bag from him and finds her wallet. "Mood's passed. You've failed to distract me on all fronts."

He falls silent for a bit as he watches her count out the bills. She has never been much of a provocative person, her conversation with Suguru the night prior has made her restless and perhaps a bit reckless: she wants concrete proof that she is in control, even if it means poor outcomes. Making a deal with Toji was a safety net Yuna is proud of herself for making. The training sessions, less so. She does not believe for a moment that she is too young for Toji. Never mind that Toji has never really made a pass at her, and their only real physical contact has been him hitting her with a training staff or slicing her eye open—she knows that beating a woman does not make her un-fuckable.

His gaze is heavy, lingering on the strands of hair that escaped her braid and cling to her nape. Yuna knows he can hear her heart beating—it always races around Toji for multiple reasons—and she wonders if hearing it beat at the rate it does still exhausts him, or if he's caught in the rhythm of it too.

When he speaks next, his voice has dropped lower, nearly to a growl.

"There's a whole line of men who'd want to fuck you, if that's all you're looking for."

It makes her skin prickle into gooseflesh. "I understand that." Toji's sentence makes her lose track of where she is, and she needs to start the count over. "But there's only one man who's sworn a binding vow to never harm me."

"You're only gonna fuck people who've sworn binding vows to you? That's gotta be a short list."

"So be it, then."

Yuna hands over the stack of bills, all crisply pressed, and watches with some dismay when Toji just folds them and stuffs them in his pocket. He doesn't quite meet her eyes.

"I'm the worst out of all of them, hummingbird."

The fact that you're rejecting me proves that you're not, she thinks, but knows better than to say aloud. She stands up and dusts off her pants. "I'll see you next week, Fushiguro-san. I promise to be in better shape then."

"Better be professional as fuck too."

She bows her head slightly. "I'll be nothing but."

(It becomes a lie, but they don't quite know that yet.)