chapter 20: home is where marigolds are

cw: a lot of soft, a lot of cringe, and then physical violence against women/children with misogynistic language

Satoru remembers the very first time he thought Yuna was lovely. Not beautiful, or stunning, or breathtaking, not the world-stops-and-the-birds-sing kind of beauty.

Simply pleasant to look at it. Like a clear spring day, amidst a string of sunny spring days, with low hanging clouds and the pristinely blue sky split by golden rays. Nothing spectacular or extraordinary, nothing foreign. Just enough to take a single breath, revel in the loveliness, and let it pass. A single breath's width of space.

It is in the middle of dinner, on a sweltering summer night. Tsumiki offhandedly mentions she has not had hotpot in a long time, so Yuna is in the kitchen preparing the ingredients and simmering a broth when the one fan in the apartment breaks. Even though the window is open, the air is dense and stale without a whisper of a breeze. Satoru sits on the couch with the kids, watching Digimon and chewing on a rapidly melting lemon popsicle. Tsumiki has one too, granted permission from Yuna to have dessert before dinner given the unbearable heat in the apartment, while Megumi presses a cold glass of milk to his forehead.

"Yuna, I'm starving," Satoru complains to the ceiling. Infinity is off as it always is in this shitty apartment in Edogawa, and he hates and welcomes the way his clothes cling like a second skin.

"Ten more minutes." Yuna skims off the top of the broth and dumps it in the sink. On the counter are small plates piled high with raw ingredients: broad leaves of napa, delicate enoki mushrooms, frozen and dried tofu, thin slices of pork and fish fillets. She's even made sauces on the side for them. It would be brilliant and delicious if it weren't hot enough to boil the food in air rather than broth, and Satoru opens his mouth to complain some more but Tsumiki just answers angelically before he can,

"You really didn't have to, Yuna-san! I could have helped too!"

"There is no need, Tsumiki-kun."

Only five percent abashed by his instinct to complain rather than help, Satoru echoes the same offer as Tsumiki. He's half-sarcastic, half-sincere-but-only-because-he-knows-Yuna-won't-accept. Yuna looks up at him, her eyeliner smudged, flyaways uncontrolled in the humidity, beads of sweat pooling in her upper lip and stains soaking through the armpits. She is normally so much more put together than this, even in the late hours of the night, that it takes Satoru aback, like he's seeing her in a new light for the first time. She looks up, nose scrunched and eyes judging but the slightest ghost of a smile on her lips because she knows exactly why he's offering and just how much of an asshole he is, but she finds him funny, and Satoru's heart skips a beat and he thinks of just how lovely she is when he is being seen.

It takes exactly nine minutes more when she looks up again, earnestly pleased with herself when she announces, "Dinner is ready." The kids scramble off the couch to the counter and Satoru follows slowly. Yuna's apron is cinched tightly around her waist, yellow and white stripes over her linen blue dress, braided hair damp with sweat as she ladles the first round of meat out of the bubbling pot onto the kids' dishes. The stale kitchen light casts an odd sort of glow on the three of them, as if they're a snapshot out of an antique photograph. When Satoru steps close and enters the frame, the first unbidden thought that crosses his mind is,

I want this.

As Satoru chews a perfectly seasoned meatball, he realizes how stupid he's being. He is the fucking Gojou heir, the first in centuries to possess Limitless and the Six Eyes, destined to upend the entire jujutsu world, to wreak havoc or impart miracles of his choosing. And yet, here he is, in a shitty apartment in Edogawa with two kids that are not his own, with a woman who is not even considered human (but is his), eating hot pot on a sweltering summer night, sweat soaking through his clothes because Infinity is off and all Satoru wants is to be ordinary. It is a desire so foreign to him that he isn't entirely sure what to do with it, other than to identify it as superbly idiotic and compensate by being even more annoying than normal, to the point where Megumi uses his first curse word.

"You're such an asshole," Megumi snaps when, after dinner, Satoru throws Megumi's book out the window in an effort to make Megumi play Street Fighter with him.

"Megumi!" gasps Tsumiki from the kitchen sink, where she dutifully washes dishes. Yuna looks up from a scroll about the Ten Shadows Technique just to see Satoru blow a raspberry at Megumi.

"Language, Megumi-kun. You're too young to be saying things like that."

"Ha!" gloats Satoru.

"Go get the book, Gojou-kun."

"Hah?"

"Go get the book and apologize to Megumi-kun for being an asshole."

"Yuna!"

There's that ghost of a smile on her face again. Satoru's insides lurch again, he feels a little sick and happy all at once, so he runs away outside. When he returns after his insides settle, he begrudgingly apologizes to Megumi. The boy's smirk is the closest thing to a smile that Satoru has ever seen, and he isn't even mad that he had to dig through a dumpster to find the dumb book in the first place.

After they put the kids to bed, Yuna curls up on her couch and Satoru sprawls on the tiny air mattress beneath her. She leans over the edge, arm dangling and fingertips tapping against his forehead.

"Good job," she says simply, when Satoru had done nothing at all.

He wants to take her hand and grasp it in his, but then her touch is gone; she turns around, back facing him, and goes to sleep. Satoru, who rarely sleeps, spends the night on his phone, ignoring his internal organs and the way they jerk back and forth like puppets coordinated by an unskilled marionette. He reads through his and Suguru's old text messages until dawn breaks, when he finally pulls the cover over his head and sleeps for only three hours until Yuna stirs, and the day—boring, lovely, ordinary—starts all over again.

When Satoru is not in that shitty apartment in Edogawa, he is at Jujutsu Tech, finishing his last year of high school while trying not to think how there's an empty seat during lectures or how graduation will be weird with just two names read out loud. Once, Satoru asks Yaga out of pure curiosity if Suguru will get a diploma too and is met with the most withering look Yaga has ever served him.

("Why the hell would you think we'd graduate him?"

"Well…you can't deny he was the best student in the class. I mean, one could even say he went above and beyond and did a senior thesis with practical application of sorts…"

"Satoru!"

In the corner of the room, definitely drunk and sort of high, Shouko snorts and hiccups and the same time.)

Satoru does not think he is angry at Suguru anymore. Or rather, he doesn't have the time, because building a case to convince the Zen'in clan to let him keep one of their most prized heirs is surprisingly challenging, especially when Satoru isn't allowed to pull the "I alone am the Honored One" card and just massacre them all. No, because Satoru is being good, he goes through the motions of a proper clan heir of his distinction. He convinces the Institute and its Higher Ups by leveraging his status as a future teacher of the School. He will shape young Megumi's and all his future students' minds, will reinstitute the Tokyo branch's safety and reputation, and it's all very convincing because how could Gojou Satoru ever let his own students die? He plays politics like a good clan leader, building relationships, having entire conversations with Naoya without threatening to pull his teeth out. He suggests that hypothetically, if Zen'in Megumi were found but excommunicated from the clan, then Naoya's path to be clan head would be unencumbered, and wouldn't that be a nice thing? Satoru won't even argue against it like he has always planned to just because he's a petty ass.

And last, to convince his own parents that Megumi is not some Zen'in ploy to have Satoru nurture a nuclear bomb that will destroy him one day, Satoru entertains marriage prospects. He will not go through with it, of course. Once Megumi is legally not-a-Zen'in and all Jujutsu Higher-Ups on board, Satoru will ditch whatever fiancée he chooses faster than Mei Mei runs for free food. They don't need to know that, though. The promise of marriage is enough to keep them on board with Megumi's metaphorical adoption. As long as Satoru pops out a kid with Limitless or Six Eyes, the Gojou clan will be preserved, even if Satoru meets his demise at the hands of a Zen'in snake he'd hatched.

In the meantime, though, he plays his part, meeting girl after girl after girl until his mother threatens that she will just choose one for him if he doesn't make a decision in a month. Annoyed, but because he is being good, Satoru doesn't kill his mother and instead chooses a girl named Himari, the eldest daughter from a mid-tier clan from Okinawa, with jet black hair and bangs and eyes dark and sharp like dragon-glass. She has no Cursed Technique, which made her a surprise pick, but has strong reserves of Cursed Energy and apparently wide hips good for child-bearing.

Shouko takes one look at Himari's picture and rolls her eyes.

"You got a type now?"

"Eh?"

She fixes him with a look. "She doesn't look familiar to you?"

He frowns. "If you're saying she looks like Suguru—"

"She looks like his girl-twin."

"What, no, this girl has way longer hair."

"This is pathetic, Satoru. You're pathetic."

"Are you this mean to Nanami?!"

Shouko lets out a weary sigh. "I guess not. You're the only one who can withstand it."

Satoru nods seriously. "I guess I really am the strongest."

So when Satoru is not in that shitty apartment in Edogawa or on Jujutsu High campus or in the bowels of the Gojou library scouring for information about the Ten Shadows Technique, he is with girl-Suguru. Himari, who likes dressing in purples and blues and pins her bangs back with pale pink clips and has lavender Cursed Energy, who is polite with the great Gojou Satoru but does not wear her heart on her sleeves. They talk and take long walks on the Gojou grounds, mostly Himari asking careful, bland questions and Satoru answering them, all while being bored out of his mind. He counts down the minutes until he can go back to that shitty apartment in Edogawa where Megumi has memorized hand seals for over a dozen Shinigami and Yuna helps him purify his first one. Satoru always shows up in the evening to test Megumi. It's the only time Megumi ever takes Satoru seriously, the only time Satoru thinks Megumi has a smidgen of respect for him, because when Satoru tests him, Megumi concentrates with all the might his tiny little body will muster. When he manifests his Cursed Energy and the shallowest pool of a shadow, he stares up at Satoru, face naked with the desire for approval.

Satoru doesn't give it.

"Gojou-sama?"

Satoru startles out of his thoughts. Himari and he sit in the shade of a willow tree in the Gojou gardens, its long branches tracing the clean-cut grass and shallow pond. She tilts her head at him, curious. She has an angular face, high cheekbones and thin lips, pretty like she could be on the runway or a high fashion magazine, but not nurturing or graceful or motherly the way the other candidates were. She is dressed in a cream blouse and periwinkle skirt today, gentle colors contrasting her bony face. Satoru honestly does not mind her: she is better than expected, inquisitive and thoughtful, polite but not simpering.

"You spaced out for a moment there," she says. "I thought you fell asleep with your eyes open."

"Oh. Nah, just was thinking about something."

Himari nods. Her bangs bob with the movement. "Gojou-sama, may I ask you a question?"

"You already did."

"Another then," she smiles, indulgent in a way that reminds Satoru of Yuna in a weird way.

"Sure," he shrugs.

"Do you really want to be married?"

He arches an eyebrow at her. "Do you?"

"I asked first, Gojou-sama."

He likes that. A little spine.

"Fine," he relents. "What eighteen-year-old wants to be married? That's for old duds. You think I want to have kids when I haven't even graduated from high school yet?"

"Your responsibilities as a clan leader should not be a surprise to you."

"Yeah, it's a responsibility. Doesn't mean I want it."

Himari nods.

Satoru squints at her. "What? You really want this?"

She just stares at him, incredulity obvious on her face; she's not quite as good as Yuna when it comes to hiding her thoughts, but maybe that will come with age. "Gojou-sama, do you really think I can tell you an answer other than yes?"

Satoru thinks about it. "Nah, guess not."

Himari plucks at the blades of grass next to her caramel strappy sandals. "To be truthful, I have been surprised. I had thought…" She thinks over her words carefully, "you would be more difficult to talk with."

Satoru snorts. "Yeah, figures. People think I'm a monster." He thinks of Yuna. "Or someone not worth talking to."

He thinks of Suguru.

"You are not normal," admits Himari, "but I've met odder."

"Yeah?"

Her lips quirk. "I may have met Zen'in Naoya-sama once or twice before."

Satoru barks a laugh. More than a little spine. Not bad at all.

"What'd he tell you to do? Kiss his dusty geta?"

Himari frowns. "Something unbearably close. And to never make direct eye contact with him."

"What a little bitch," mutters Satoru.

"You do not hold the same views then, when it comes to women and their roles?"

"Don't get the wrong idea, I'm still an asshole. Just an equal opportunity asshole." Satoru lies flat on the ground, arms crossed behind his head. "I don't care about that stuff, girls or guys. I met a lot of strong-as-shit women at Jujutsu High. Seems a waste if you don't let them fight."

"It sounds nice," she says wistfully. "Jujutsu High. I wish I could've gone."

"Your parents didn't let you?"

"No. Not a woman's place."

"Sucks." He peers at her. "Your Cursed Energy level is actually pretty decent."

She blushes prettily and tucks her bangs behind her ears. "Thank you. So do you have a girlfriend then, at Jujutsu High?"

Satoru looks at her, debates for two milliseconds if it's a bad idea, then remembers that he's the strongest sorcerer in fucking centuries and therefore does not need to give a shit what people think about him.

"Not a girlfriend."

She raises her eyebrows. "What?"

"Had a…" Satoru grimaces at the terminology. "Guy. Friend."

Himari's eyes widen and her eyebrows threaten to disappear off her small forehead. "Oh."

"Told you," Satoru iterates. "Girls or guys. I don't care about that stuff."

"Oh."

Satoru closes his eyes, not interested in explaining himself any further. He breathes in the fresh grass. A mosquito buzzes past his ear but can't reach his skin. It doesn't understand, so it assails Satoru's technique only more ferociously, until Satoru twitches his finger and the mosquito combusts. Summer is waning, but the sunset is late and the heat muggy and he wonders what Yuna will make for dinner tonight, and if she has gotten that window unit he'd bought for her installed yet.

"Gojou-sama?"

Himari is much closer to him now. He can smell her shampoo, peony-scented, and her face is hovering above his when he opens his eyes.

"Does that mean…" She wets her lips with a quick brush of her tongue, "I'd be your first girlfriend?"

Satoru's grin is wry. "Aren't we kinda skipping that part and going straight to the fiancé nonsense?"

"Right. Well…either way. Would I be your first kiss with a girl then?"

She leans closer. Her soft hair brushes against Satoru's Infinity, but does not touch his skin. He does not let her in, because outside of that shitty apartment in Edogawa, he does not let anyone in, may never again—he remembers kissing Suguru on a cold wintry day, the first snowfall of the year, on his sixteenth birthday—

Satoru jerks up and away from Himari. She reciprocates the movement and jolts back as well, skin coloring, expression crestfallen.

"Sorry." It comes out curt. "I gotta go."

He warps away, leaving Himari alone amidst the branches of the willow tree on the Gojou grounds he does not call home. He leaves her alone, clad in her whites and lavenders and smelling of peonies because he may find refuge in marigolds in Edogawa instead.

It is not a big deal that Satoru has never kissed a girl before. It's not often that he feels the desire to, (fine, Shouko, he's pathetic, he only feels that way about Suguru), so he knows something has changed when he starts thinking of Yuna as lovely. He knows she's pretty—Shouko has high standards, after all—but it's only over this summer that Satoru actually notices it. It's not just her face; there's something about her aura, unassuming and gentle, soothing and nourishing when her large eyes are fixed just on him. He wonders if this is the way she'd looked at Suguru, and why Suguru had always liked her more, because Yuna could see his present and his potential. Satoru does not mind when she looks at him the same way.

And Satoru can see her, too. He sees the way she treats the children, even when she resents them. How she sweats and toils to make them happy but then holds them at an arm's length when they try to do the same for her. It is why Satoru kisses her on the rooftop, underneath the summer night sky, with stars clear and blaring. When Yuna calls him by his given name, Satoru's guts twist into knots and goddamn he loves the way she's looking at him now, seeing him in full, seeing his goodness because he has been trying so fucking hard and isn't it great to be rewarded for his efforts? She tastes like beer and cigarettes, scents unbecoming of her face, and her hair is knotted when Satoru curls his hand in it. He kisses her deeper, remembering that he has missed this kind of contact since Suguru had left, and he thinks there's nothing fundamentally different about kissing a girl or a boy except maybe it's different when it's a woman.

Yuna's hand finds Satoru's shoulder and pushes him very, very carefully. But she pushes him all the same.

The nudge is enough to make Satoru freeze and realize that Yuna had not kissed him back. He jerks away abruptly. He straightens up, cheeks flaring, mouth open and ready to defend himself.

But he can't get the words out, because Yuna just looks up at him, lips a little puffy and cheeks a little flushed, and he's not sure if he or the beers can take credit.

"Gojou-kun," she says at last. But then that's all she says.

"I…uh…" He spots a lizard scurry down the wall into the bowels of the gutter and he wants desperately to follow. Yuna's expression is fairly neutral. She looks neither enraged or abashed, her Cursed Energy is holding steady, and she looks at him similarly to how she'd always look when Satoru went to her for advice about Suguru. Maybe it's not a good thing she can see Satoru in full—he wishes she'd just bow her head and oblige the way he is certain Himari would, like he's the Gojou head who can do no wrongs, not an eighteen-year-old boy who just tried to make out with his high school teacher.

"I'm—" Yuna says at the same time that Satoru blurts out, "My parents—"

They halt, and Yuna gestures for him to continue.

"My parents want me to be engaged," he explains. "And I've been talking to this girl and today she tried to kiss me and I, uh, realized I hadn't kissed a girl before so kind of freaked out."

Yuna's expression shifts very slightly, and she squints a little at him (he thinks that means she's annoyed), but all she says is,

"I see."

A beat passes, and Yuna scoots away from him, out of his hold. She reaches for the nearest beer can and shakes it, the low slosh of liquid against aluminum confirming there is some left, before she downs the rest of it.

Satoru is ninety-percent certain Yuna is annoyed.

"And so," she says when she finishes her beer, tone measured, "did you want to…practice on me?"

Satoru can hear Shouko positively howling right now, something about how his lack of consideration for others rivals his Limitless in scale. Of course, how could he say such a thing when Yuna, with all her issues with being owned, had just confessed to seeing him as new and improved?

"No," he says as quickly as his mind will allow, "no, of course not, not practice, I…" He falters. "I don't know. I just wanted to. I…didn't want to kiss Himari. I don't want to marry her."

Yuna's expression shifts again, this time more obviously, because Satoru can read the pity on her face now.

"Gojou-kun," she says gently, "you don't want me."

"I kind of do." The words are stupid and ringing like he's been boxed around both ears.

"You don't." She sets down her can and looks away from him. "You want Getou-kun."

She might as well have thrown the rest of the beer in his face. It's been nearly a year since Suguru's defection, and Yuna hasn't brought him up more than twice, much less this aspect of his and Satoru's relationship.

"I see sometimes," she says quietly, "you reading over your conversations."

Something hot and acrid swoops through Satoru's stomach. It's one thing for Shouko to know how pathetic Satoru is, because Shouko knows everything about them. It's different with Yuna. Maybe because Yuna had always sided with Suguru, because talking with Yuna about Suguru always reminded Satoru that he wasn't good enough, had taught Satoru the meaning of shame.

"Getou-kun is the only one who can match you," she continues. "I imagine that as you are talking to this…Himari-kun, you are feeling the weight of what you used to have with Getou-kun, and you think you want me because I remind you of a time with him. But you don't want me."

Satoru feels like Yuna is cutting through his soul with a finely sharpened scalpel, curving out all the fat and padding and leaving only bones and blood vessels behind.

"That's not true," he says. "Shouko reminds me of a time with Suguru, but I don't want Shouko."

Yuna half-laughs. "Because Shouko doesn't want you."

It would be offensive, if it didn't mean something else—a confession that both Satoru and Yuna realize at the same time, because Yuna suddenly stiffens.

"That means," Satoru's voice is thick, "that you do."

"Gojou-kun, no, this isn't…" Yuna arranges her four beer cans in a line, then in a square, then back in a line. "I don't, and it isn't important."

"How is it not—"

"Because I could never marry you!" Yuna looks like she can't believe what she's saying aloud. "That's not even—that I could even think that—" She takes a shuddering breath and lets it out slowly. Her hair has fallen over her face, and Satoru reaches out to tuck it behind her ear because he wants to see her face. Yuna stops his hand, but does not let go.

"Gojou-kun," Her voice is back under control, but her eyes are wide and the moon reflects in them like a still pond. "I am an item. And not to mention…you are barely an adult. I was your teacher. We went through a horrible two years, and obviously lines have been blurred and crossed but fundamentally…this can never happen."

Satoru's fingers curl between hers to graze her cheek. "I wasn't asking for your hand in marriage, Yuna."

"I know. I know. It's just…we have too much to take care of already, with Megumi-kun and Tsumiki-kun. It's confusing enough for them."

"You're not their mom, and I'm not their dad," says Satoru petulantly. He's the annoyed one, now that he knows for sure that Yuna wants him to some degree, but will choose the well-being of some dumb kids he'd picked up off the street over him.

"Satoru," she says, and his stupid stomach flips like a pancake. "I'm not ready, all right?"

She looks at him, gaze steady and all-seeing, and he reads in it,

You're not either.

He doesn't agree. He is ready. He's not even mad at Suguru anymore.

But because Satoru is good, because he is trying, he just squeezes Yuna's hand and lets it go.

Yuna deserves whatever hell she will encounter on the Zen'in compound.

She does not want to go. She does not think her presence will merit much benefit, will only subject her to scorn and Satoru to vulnerability, but Satoru had just shown up very early on the fateful day with a kimono of silver and blue, its navy obi embroidered with the Gojou family crest, shimmering at dawn like a clear stream with marble bedding. It is absolutely astounding and likely costs more than its weight in gold.

"Megumi wants you there," Satoru says, before Yuna can even open her mouth to protest.

Megumi, who spends his days trying very hard not to ask anything of Yuna because he doesn't want to make her life more difficult, remains quiet in the entrance to the bedroom, watching as Yuna takes the kimono in her arms. It was his silence that convinces Yuna that Satoru is telling the truth.

So Yuna does not protest. Of course she should be there for Megumi; she has seen the way Megumi regards Satoru, sometimes in awe, shielded in disdain, but most often carefully, because gods forbid Megumi expect some kind of love from Satoru and be failed because he'd had expectations. Satoru does not give Megumi comfort. He embodies it, in a way—safety, responsibility, power—but he does not give Megumi comfort. He tests Megumi and pushes him and needles him, all forms of care that Satoru gives, but not in the way Megumi necessarily receives. Even when Megumi, at long last, summons his Demon Dogs, puppies of black and white that are already fiercely loyal and love him, Satoru just nods and says, "Great. Finally."

Megumi is an abandoned child already, who needs unconditional love but does not know how to ask for it. Satoru, who has not realized love is a thing he wants until fairly recently, has no idea he needs to give it. Yuna, who is and will always be a terrible mother, does not know how to yield it.

She does not love Megumi, but Toji did, and Yuna had loved Toji no matter how much she hates him now. Because sons do not bear the sins of their fathers. Because none of this would have happened, if the Zen'ins had treated Toji like a son to begin with.

So no, Yuna does not protest. In the tiny confines of their apartment, she first helps Megumi into his own kimono, all black, patterned with a jade hound on the back of his haori, and helps him slip on his geta. She then dons hers, helped by Shouko and sweet Tsumiki who ooh's and ah's at the way the fabric falls smooth and cool like the underbelly of snakeskin on her body. When Yuna looks in the mirror, the silver light cloth reminds her of the shiromuku she'd worn on her wedding day, except the Gojou crest blares who her new owner is instead.

Satoru grins at the sight of her, toothy and confident. Ever since the night of four beers and a kiss, he has been a bit handsier than before, always leaning forward to fix her hair, straighten her collar, a hand on her waist while he reaches above her to help grab something from a cabinet she can't reach. She tries to brush him off but is unsuccessful, but mostly because she is not trying as hard as she should.

Now, though, she is not charmed. She does not want to go to the Zen'ins, much less like this, with the Gojou crest pressed over her womb like she's been marked for purchase, and Satoru knows it too.

"This is too elaborate," she murmurs as Satoru ties a silver ribbon at the end of her braid. "You should have brought me a servant's yukata."

"But you're not a servant."

"I'm not…" She almost bites out "a bride" but holds it back. "I'm not whoever should be wearing this either."

"Relax," says Satoru. He is dressed formally as well, in a shimmery gray kimono stitched with pale white clouds and a navy haori with a bright silver dragon. The fact that he and Yuna match is too obvious. "A servant could totally wear this."

"This must cost tens of thousands of yen, Gojou-kun."

"Don't think too hard about it. Megumi's the star of the show."

"My point exactly." She tugs at the strings of her obi. "Gojou-kun—"

"I like you in it," he cuts in. "It's a gift. I've never gotten you one, so just take it. It's just for me, okay? No one else is gonna look at you." He presses the ribbon to his lips and his eyes glimmer in the early morning light. "It's just for me."

Yuna's heart jumps a beat. She deserves all the hell in the Zen'in compound and beyond.

The Zen'in compound is located in Yokohama, an ironic traditional foothold in a city that prospered off of foreign trade. Following the Meiji restoration, the Zen'in clan became heavily invested in the silk and transportation trades, establishing multiple international relationships and amassing considerable wealth from Japan's industrial development. In addition to the material trade benefits, the Zen'ins had chosen Yokohama for its rapidly expanding immigrant population and the consequential racism that generated a galore of curses available for exorcism. Rumors had it that following the Great Kantou earthquake, the Zen'ins had stoked rumors of Korean black magic that compelled mobs to murder many Korean immigrants in the slums; it wasn't until decades later when documents revealed that the fearmongering festered into Special Grade Curses that the Japanese federal government had paid the Zen'in clan a considerable reward to exorcise, and they'd gotten to keep the curses on retainer, too.

Despite the checkered past and present, the Zen'in compounds are beautiful. Satoru strides through the main gates without barely batting an eye, but Yaga, Yuna, and Megumi take a moment to appreciate their surroundings. The noon sun beats brightly, but there must be a barrier in place maintaining the temperature of the Zen'in grounds, because the air is cool and crisp like a perfect autumn day. The stone pathways are cleanly swept, the grass cropped, lustrous and verdant; a side path seems to lead into the gardens, which even from its outward hedges host a collection of luscious rose bushes.

Rivers of pristine water line the stone path, and when they cross the bridges over the river, Yuna spots rare colorful fish darting underneath water lilies. They walk along the main stone path, guided by a servant to the main home which sits on a lake into which all the rivers converge. Despite being nearly a century old, having somehow survived bombs of the Second World War, the main house is beautifully maintained, the shoji glowing soft white, the dark wood coated and preserved, its curved green roof as deep as the trees that overhang it. The second floor of the building is updated with a modern edge, with floor to ceiling windows instead of shoji.

Yet, despite its beauty, something prickles beneath the surface. The Zen'in compound is the picture of serenity, but Yuna does not feel calm. Maybe it is because she knows the Zen'ins, knows the history and the brutality of this clan that hides its fangs behind its rosebushes and rare fish. Maybe it's because she knows what this clan did to Toji, and if a clan could produce a man like him—eager to cut down a young girl for money—then no amount of beauty can hide its ugly truths.

Yuna is careful not to hold onto Megumi's hand. They had counseled Megumi extensively the night before that he must appear strong, able to stand his own ground even though he is only in the second-grade. There is no time to be hiding behind Satoru or Yuna's robes; if this is going to work, then Megumi himself must be perceived as a threat. When the four of them arrive at the entrance to the main home, the servant turns and bows.

"The Clan Head has agreed only to speak to the Gojou head and the Principal of the Tokyo Technical Institute."

"And Megumi-kun, right?" says Yaga dubiously.

"Certainly."

Satoru frowns. "Yuna is here by my and Megumi's request."

"The Clan Head was not made aware of her invitation and has insisted matters of this import be conducted between men only."

Satoru, visibly irritated, opens his mouth to retort, but Yuna just wants this to be over.

"It's fine, Gojou-kun. I have no weight in this conversation. I'll wait outside for you."

Megumi looks at her uncertainly. Yuna pats him gently on the shoulder. "It will be fine, Megumi-kun. I'll be right outside."

"If it pleases you," the servant offers, "I can guide you to the inner gardens. It will be a pleasant wait."

Yuna does not want to be guided anywhere deeper into the Zen'in compound, but she merely nods and watches the men disappear down the hall. The servant returns shortly after and, head bowed, takes her a short walk behind the main house. The scent of roses is heavy and nearly too much for Yuna, who has always preferred the lighter sweetness of jasmine, but the hedges with roses of all colors and hybrids grow more intricate until the stone path winds to a magnificent fountain of a phoenix, spilling water from its spout. Twelve stone animals of the zodiac surround the lower rim of the fountain, positioned like numbers on a clock, and they drink from the water below.

The servant bows and leaves Yuna alone by the fountain. She perches next to the statue of the rabbit, a tiny little thing, only bigger than the rat. As she listens to the gentle patter of the fountain, her mind wanders. She thinks Satoru and Yaga will be successful. Megumi will be granted freedom from the clan, and Tsumiki will be safe. After everything, she will have fulfilled her half of the vow to Toji—he was never ready to give up Megumi, and no matter what he had done, the fact that he'd entrusted Megumi to the man who'd murdered him over his own family was testament to that.

She thinks that after this, after Megumi leaves her home, maybe she will find peace when it comes to the matter of Fushiguro Toji.

A sharp yelp jostles Yuna out of her thoughts. She stands up, sleeves pushed up and a talisman ready to burn underneath her obi, and turns to find a familiar face emerging from a hidden path, dragging a smaller figure behind him.

Zen'in Naoya looks surprised to see her. For a moment, Yuna thinks he doesn't even recognize her, but when his sharp eyes land on the crest on her obi and then flicker up to her face, the connection clicks.

"Well," he smirks, "doesn't Satoru-kun know it's poor form to bring his fuck-toys to important meetings?"

Yuna lets the insult pass and looks at the small child Naoya drags behind him—a young girl grimacing at the tight hold Naoya has on her short ebony hair. Blood trickles down her forehead, right between two eyes the color of ravens, alive with loathing. She looks to be Megumi's age, likely a servant, given the plain yukata and the lack of Cursed Energy.

"Apologies for intruding, Zen'in-san," says Yuna smoothly. "How's your tooth? I can't imagine Yuki-san paid for the dental work."

He sneers at her, his teeth unfortunately all intact and pristine. "Woulda sent a message with you if she hadn't shown up."

"I'm certain." Yuna does not like the way the girl is trying to push closer to Naoya to alleviate pressure on her scalp. "I would have thought beating servants was a task beneath you."

"Ha!" Naoya grins ferally down at the girl he's abusing. "Hear that, Maki? This bitch is an item and even she thinks you're just a servant!"

The girl named Maki glares up at Yuna, who realizes her mistake.

"I apologize," she says, angling her head low in a bow at the girl. "I should not have assumed based on your clothing."

"You can be honest." Naoya tosses Maki on the ground in front of him and steps on her head. "Even something like you can tell Maki's got no Cursed Energy, even though she's supposed to be my cousin. Useless piece of trash."

He presses harder onto Maki's head. She winces and her tiny hands grab fistfuls of grass, but she doesn't let out a single peep of discomfort. Her face is contorted in pride and anger—the expression Toji had whenever he'd talked about the Zen'in clan sits far too comfortably on this child's face.

"Zen'in-san," says Yuna coldly, fire licking her blood, a terrible hollowness roaring in her soul that Toji had ripped from her (or instilled) during their binding vow, "perhaps you should handle a Zen'in child with no Cursed Energy a bit more carefully, given what became of the last one."

Naoya's gaze snaps up to Yuna's, but she meets him without wavering. He knows what she's implying.

"You bitch," he snarls. "You dare bring him up?"

Yuna blinks and Naoya is in front of her in a flash. It is only because of Yuna's prepared talisman that the blow connects with her Barrier instead of her flesh, but the force of Naoya's strike is enough to send Yuna stumbling backward. She rights herself immediately, the characters on her arms burning as she brings up a continuous Barrier surrounding her, barely strong enough to keep Naoya's repeat punches at bay.

"You don't even know him," snaps Naoya. His palm beats at the Barrier and it reverberates through Yuna's spine, but she holds it steady. It takes everything in her to concentrate, and she barely is able to force out the words,

"I knew him better than most, Zen'in-san. Though perhaps not as well as you. He always did call you a major dickwad."

"You—"

"Careful," Yuna winces when Naoya's next enraged blow causes her Barrier to crack. "I'm here under Gojou-kun's invitation, Zen'in-san. Do you want a clan war?"

Naoya's open palm lingers a hair's breadth away from her nose. Yuna lets out the barest sigh of relief, but then her Barrier falters, and Naoya's palm lands straight across her cheek. A thunderclap jolts up Yuna's head and she crumbles, only for Naoya to grab her by the throat and press her back against the fountain, her neck digging uncomfortably into the stone. The rabbit statue side-eyes her, prepared to jump into the water, into safety.

Blood dribbles down Yuna's chin. Naoya leers above her, grasp curling deeper around her throat. Yuna chokes and grapples with his grip, trying her best to pry even a finger off her trachea.

"Do you," he sneers, "think you'd be worth a clan war? You think because you're wearing Satoru-kun's family crest, you're worth anything to him? Don't be stupid—you're an object, something he can fuck without having the label of a concubine before he gets a real wife. Just a cunt to use. I told you, I'd return you used, broken, and bleeding. You're not even worth a billion yen anymore, and even if you were, you think I couldn't pay that price?"

Blast glows crimson and Cursed Energy pelts out of her arm, too weak to send Naoya flying but enough to send him several steps back. Yuna wastes no time, straightening up and following with Freeze and another well-aimed Blast. Naoya stumbles back, shocked that she could hit him, but it's the most Yuna can muster. Her Cursed Energy is already close to gone—she has not been training the way she had been when she was back at the School, and Naoya's Cursed Energy resistance is much stronger than her reserves.

Freeze is already losing its effect on Naoya and Yuna knows he will regain all movement within seconds. She will try to make a run for it, even though it will be fruitless, but one glance around shows that the courtyard is otherwise deserted. Maki had been smart and disappeared the moment Naoya's attention had shifted to Yuna. It gives Yuna some relief, at least.

Yuna shifts to flee, only to see Satoru appear at the entrance to the gardens, Megumi and Yaga close behind him. Relief floods her, and she hates herself for even unconsciously relying on Satoru like this. But it's hard not to; he looks terrifying in his formal garb, with his eyes unshielded for all to see the cold expanse of the growing galaxy. He takes one look at Yuna's neck and his fingers come up in a sign.

"Satoru!" says Yaga sharply.

Satoru snaps, and the entire rose garden behind Naoya explodes. A flying branch scratches Naoya's face just as Freeze wears off, drawing blood.

"What the fuck, Naoya," drawls Satoru as he draws closer, his geta heavy on the stone path. "I thought we'd made it clear that negotiations were gonna be peaceful."

"I should say the same to you, Satoru-kun," Naoya is impressively able to smirk still in the face of Satoru's impending threat of mass destruction. "You just fucked up my favorite garden."

"You tried to fuck up something of mine first," says Satoru frostily.

"Sorry," says Naoya unapologetically. "Thought someone had snuck a Cursed Object in Zen'in quarters. I was just cleaning out the litter."

Satoru looks like he will rip Naoya's head clean off his neck, but nothing about Satoru's protection, which only reinforces her status, is soothing to Yuna. She moves swiftly to them, past Satoru, and addresses Megumi and Yaga.

"Were you successful?" she asks.

Yaga nods. "Yeah, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Megumi-kun, good job."

"Yuna-san, are you okay?" Megumi gestures at his own chin, reminding Yuna that she has blood on her face. She cleans it up with her fingertips, careful not to stain the kimono.

"I'm fine, thank you. Let's go home."

"Yuna?" says Satoru, in that tone that implies he wants recognition, too. Yuna does not give him any.

"Let's go home," she says firmly.

She leads the procession out of the gardens. As they exit, a hedge rustles, and Yuna catches sight of a small child dart away, out of sight. Yuna hopes she runs far, far away, but knows she cannot. Maybe she will be doomed and cursed, just like Toji, except worse, because she is a girl.

Outside the Zen'in compound, when Megumi and Yaga have already climbed into the black SUV waiting to drive them back to Tokyo, Satoru grabs her wrist.

"Yuna?"

"Not here."

"No, here." His grip on her wrist tightens and he roots her in place as his other hand corners her against the side of the car. The sleeves of his haori drape around her cheeks, brushing it like a breeze, hiding her from the world. She stares at his collar, refusing to say anything until he lets her wrist go and tilts her chin up to look at him.

"Didn't I do a good job, too?" His eyes are bright and expectant, yearning.

She could lie, but she does not think Satoru needs that anymore.

"I am not yours, Gojou-kun."

Understanding glistens like the topmost layer of snow on a frozen lake, glistening in winter sun. "I-I know that."

She pushes his hand away. "I don't think you do, Gojou-kun. I don't think you ever will. That's why it will never happen. This. Will not. Cannot."

Satoru looks at her like Yuna has decided Naoya is preferable to him, but he does not say anything.

"Good job winning Megumi's freedom, Gojou-kun," Yuna says quietly. She turns around and opens the door, sliding in the seat next to Yaga, whose curious look she ignores. Moments later, Satoru opens the opposite door and slips into the passenger seat.

"Back to the School?" asks the driver.

Satoru glances back at her, and Yuna finds his gaze searing like holy fire.

"Nah. Let's go home."