chapter 21: who are we to each other?

cw: unhealthy relationships, uncomfortable and unethical power dynamics

When they arrive back in that shitty apartment in Edogawa, Shouko takes one look at Yuna's swollen cheek and violet-marked neck before turning to Satoru, her Cursed Energy flaring like a cat whose tail he'd stepped on. She heals Yuna's injuries with a brush of her palm before dragging Satoru out into the hallway. Knowing what's coming and already irritated with Yuna, he snaps before Shouko can accuse him of his worst impulses.

"I didn't do it. It was Naoya."

Shouko's eyebrows raise. "I know. I can see the Residuals. But I like that you jumped straight to that defense—makes sense, given that the last person who choked her was you."

Satoru's ears burn. Shouko must have guessed this before, from the night he'd first brought Megumi to Yuna's apartment months ago, and has just been waiting for the perfect time to throw it back in his face. She'd chosen her timing well.

"What do you want, Shouko?" he grits out. He's all out-of-sorts. His Eyes flare, his head pounds. He'd left his glasses off the entire time at the Zen'in estate, mostly for effect. Zen'in Naobito has always hated the sight of the Six Eyes, but also knows that his Projection Sorcery is too slow for it. Satoru had wanted to leave the Zen'ins while drunk on his own victory, not wounded like some loser child who hadn't even been given a participation trophy.

"I want to know what you're doing with Yuna," answers Shouko. "Whatever's been going on for the last couple months, it's over now. You've won. Megumi's gonna go to the School. You can stop playing house or faking it or whatever it is you're doing."

"I'm not faking it," says Satoru, even though he's not entirely sure what "it" even is.

"I would've believed that yesterday," says Shouko coolly. "But today was a pretty good showcase for how things haven't really changed. You still just bully her into doing whatever you want."

"I didn't lay a fucking hand on her—I saved her, for fuck's sake!"

"You made her go to the Zen'ins today when she didn't want to."

"Megumi wanted her to go."

"Megumi wouldn't have said jack shit. You wanted to dress her up, show her off like some kind of prized hen. You put her in danger."

"How was I supposed to know Naoya was gonna do that," seethes Satoru. "She's under Gojou protection—you'd think that fucker would have some common sense and not attack my shit—"

"Your shit?" Shouko's eyes gleam, holy in the face of her proven point.

He grinds his teeth. Yuna had said the same thing. I am not yours, Gojou-kun. Except she fucking is, in the way that everyone and everything belongs to the Honored One because that is what gods are owed.

"You need to think about how other people suffer your consequences," says Shouko. "People can't touch you, but they can hurt the people around you. I don't know why that's so hard for you to understand."

Satoru chews the inside of his mouth, biting down so hard he tastes blood. Reversed Cursed Technique seeps in immediately, but he swallows the iron, reminded that only he has the ability to hurt himself. The burden of others and their weakness is so irritating.

"I'm trying," he mutters.

"Are you?" It is a terrible thing sometimes, being Shouko's friend. Her apathy makes her truths all the more brutal, and she drives her truths home with no fear of retaliation, because Satoru cannot threaten anything that Shouko hasn't already lost. "Because last time I checked, you're supposed to be engaged. Instead, you took what looks like the Gojou bridal kimono, dressed Yuna up in it, and paraded her around the Zen'ins. What kind of message do you think that'll send?"

"You know I was never gonna marry Himari anyway," says Satoru sourly.

"I know that. Does she? Does literally anyone else?"

"What's your point?"

"My point," says Shouko tiredly, "is that things that feel like whims to you can have catastrophic consequences on others. Be real, Satoru. What do you think is gonna happen to Himari when you call off the engagement? You think anyone else will want to marry her? Her family will disown her. You've already ruined her life."

I don't care, The Honored One wants to retort. She knew the risks. She should feel lucky to have even been considered.

But Satoru holds his tongue. He thinks of the way Himari asks him questions, careful and measured, and wonders if Yuna had been like that in the beginning of her marriage, or if it's something she learned after marriage had ruined her life too. He doesn't really care what happens to Himari. He only knows he should.

"I don't know Himari," says Shouko. "I feel bad for her but I don't have enough reserve to give her more than that. But Yuna's different. I don't know what you're thinking, Satoru, but you know you can't have her the way you're pretending to. You're gonna get her killed."

Satoru disagrees. He will just charge in and save her, the same way he did today.

He does not say that aloud, though.

"I am trying," he says. "Honestly. I am. I'm trying to be better or whatever. Just don't get why others can't try to be… a little stronger too."

The gleam in Shouko's eyes melts, wax over a flame, recognizing that this is the truest thing Satoru has said so far.

"It doesn't work that way," she says quietly. "You saw what happened to Suguru. This is the only deal you get, Satoru. It's the price you pay if you don't want to be alone."

Before Satoru can even wrap his mind around what Shouko is implying, the door to the apartment opens and Yuna steps into the hallway, her kimono nearly blinding against the gray, peeling wallpaper of the apartment building.

"You should come back in," she says, serene as a bodhisattva statue, arms folded neatly in front of her. "I've cut some fruit. Shouko-san, if you don't mind helping me out of this kimono, I'd appreciate it."

"Wait," says Satoru before he can help himself. He fumbles for his phone. "Can we take a picture?"

He ignores Shouko's look of incredulity, the implied The fuck do you think you're doing. She glances at Yuna for permission. Yuna merely blinks once.

"What in the world for, Gojou-kun?"

"I just…I'll return the kimono. I know you hate it. But you look nice and I just…" He lets out a breath. "Just give me one nice thing from an otherwise shitty day, okay? I won't bring it up again."

Yuna just blinks again, yields a low, contemplative hum, then nods. She steps next to him, back stiff and careful not to touch him, but Satoru shuffles slightly behind her so his chest brushes her shoulder blades, though he does not touch her more than that. Shouko holds up the camera phone, and Satoru is ninety-nine percent sure the photo will come out blurry purely out of Shouko's spite.

"Lighting here is shit," she says, confirming Satoru's suspicions.

"Just take the damn thing."

The phone lets out the sham sound of a shutter snapping. Satoru does not know what expression he is making. He doesn't know what Yuna looks like either.

"There." Shouko tosses the phone back to him before heading into the apartment. "Tsumiki! Is there still tea left?"

As Tsumiki chirps back a, "Yes, Shouko-san, it's still warm!", Satoru clicks open the picture and maximizes it on the small screen. It's actually a decent picture, grainy by nature of the phone, but Shouko had a steady hand. Satoru towers over Yuna, his expression stony but his Six Eyes the brightest thing in the frame. Cast in his shadow in contrast, Yuna stands like a willowy reed, still but somehow with gentle movement. To Satoru's great surprise, her lips are curled in the faintest smile.

Yuna peers at the picture but does not comment on it. "It was not an otherwise shitty day, Gojou-kun."

"Yeah?" He shoves the phone in his pocket.

"You saved Megumi-kun and Tsumiki-kun. It was the outcome you'd wanted after months of hard work. You should be proud."

"Yeah?" he mutters. He doesn't look at her. "You don't think I saved you too?"

She fixes the crease on his collar that doesn't need fixing. She doesn't look at him either. "No, Gojou-kun. You didn't."

Toji does not talk about the Zen'ins often.

That isn't actually accurate. Toji talks about the Zen'ins plenty, often in colorful and expletive-laden terms, but as a collective body, a writhing snake of which he is a detached fang, the sharpest fang in the jowl, the most lethal fang that had been extracted simply because it is not poisonous. Toji knows this. He is a self-assured man, breezily confident in his ability to kill and destroy in a way that Yuna can only envy. If he had wanted to, he could have murdered everyone in the Zen'in clan in one night, though it is clear why he didn't: (gambling, wagyu, his son).

"What made you leave them, in the end?" she asks one night as they walk back from the gym. He'd harped about positioning and footing for longer than normal today, something about minimal stance changes being the cornerstone of hand-to-hand combat. He'd bragged he'd once beaten all of the Zen'in Kukuru unit without budging an inch.

"Eh?"

"The Family. If you could beat the entire Kukuru unit when you were sixteen, why did you stay with the Zen'in clan for so many years after?"

Toji's grin is wry. "Why'd you stay with your husband?"

She looks at him severely. "That's a false equivalence, Toji-san."

"Fine. Why didn't you run from your parents before they sold you then? Surely you knew it was comin'."

"We are different people, even in our youth. I never had that kind of power."

"It wasn't just physical power, hummingbird. You're not sayin' a little part of you didn't want to do just want your parents wanted, wanted to somehow make them happy or proud or whatever shit?"

Yuna is surprised. "You're saying—"

"No, I'm not that stupid. I knew I was never gonna make them proud or whatever. I just wanted to…" He shrugs his massive shoulders. "Sometimes you just want to beat people on their own terms. Beat them in their own game. I thought if I stuck around long enough, led that dumb unit to glory or whatever, the clan would admit they were wrong eventually. "

They had taken the long way back to his apartment without Yuna realizing, along the wharf where fishermen's wives sell the catch of the day. In the afternoon, the fish have now been sitting out for hours now, and the choices are slim but discounted. The waves slosh against the fishermen's oars, and as Yuna gestures to a cut of yellowtail that still looked all right, she says,

"That's still quite stupid of you, Toji-san."

Toji snorts. "You're such a bitch."

The saleswoman Yuna is purchasing fish from glares at Toji. Yuna waves aside her concern with a reassuring smile, murmuring, "Language, Toji-san, we're in public," before paying for her goods with a gracious nod. Toji takes the plastic bags from her hands and carries them as they walk back.

"I know it was dumb," he says sourly. "You wouldn't get it, though. When you're part of that kinda Family and a main son, the expectations are drilled into you before you can even walk. Took me a long time to really get it, even though it was something I'd known for a long time."

It always takes Yuna a bit by surprise when Toji says things that remind her of just how deeply childhood damage can build the foundation of existence, when no amount of bravado can hide that Toji's self-worth is tied to the messaging from his youth. She remembers what happened the night Toji had asked her for help; she can only imagine what he suffered through at Nightmare's Whim's behest. When she is not being her worst self, she realizes that the same reason Toji did not murder the Zen'in clan is the same reason he did not raise his own son: that the clan he didn't belong to is still worth something, that Megumi is better off not having a father at all than to have Toji, who is worth nothing to the clan.

"I see." Yuna brushes her fingertips over his wrist's pulse pointt, but does not linger.

He seems amused that she is trying to comfort him. "Don't think you really can. You're a girl, the expectations were low to begin with."

She hums. "Maybe that is true. But if you were a woman, the outcome would have been very different."

He snorts. "Of course, I would've just been married off, just poppin' out babies left and right."

"Perhaps, Toji-san." The plastic bag crinkles and the door to the apartment complex screeches as Toji pushes it open. "But the greater likelihood is that you would be dead."

Two nights after Satoru bargains Megumi's freedom, the Fushiguro children are relocated to the Tokyo Jujutsu Technical Institute's grounds. It is an event of little fanfare. Yuna has both Megumi and Tsumiki pack in the morning so that their belongings are neatly compiled by the time she sits them down for a light lunch. If Tsumiki is more subdued and Megumi is more morose than normal, Yuna ignores it. She allows herself to only feel relief that they will finally vacate her space, that Toji's likeness and blood will finally leave her presence and maybe then she will be cleansed of her sins. She is glad they are leaving. That is the normal response.

"Thank you again," sniffles Tsumiki as Yuna clears their plates and places them in the sink. "I could have cooked our last meal."

"You do not need to thank me, Tsumiki-kun. I am an adult. You are a child. Some things are just so."

"This won't be our last meal, right?" she says, eyes welling. She has the bad habit of tugging at her hair when she is distressed; the braid Yuna had plaited for her this morning has already come loose. "You'll come to the campus to see us, right?"

Yuna sits Tsumiki down on the couch and gestures for her to turn around so she can re-do her braid. "I will try. But the school year is starting soon, and you both will return to your classes. You will not miss me much."

"That's not true!" Tsumiki blurts out. "I'm excited to go back to school but I've liked being here! I'll miss this apartment a-and you and the times we had with Gojou-san and you!"

"Me too," says Yuna, thinking it will ring false but finding that some part of her finds it true.

"Can we come visit you?" asks Megumi. He sits on the barstool, his dog plushie clutched in his hands.

"It will be better if I see you on School grounds," she answers. "The less traffic to this apartment, the better. Gojou-kun would like it to remain a safe house of sorts."

Megumi seems to understand but still looks disappointed. "Okay."

"Don't frown so much, Megumi." Satoru warps into the living room, his voice preceding his corporal presence somehow, his sunglasses perched high on his nose. "You'll wrinkle before your time."

Megumi frowns harder at the sight of him. "I hate it when you just appear out of nowhere. Can't you knock like a normal person?"

"It's safer this way, then no one will see me come in!"

"Is the car downstairs?" Yuna ties the ribbon in Tsumiki's hair into a bow.

"Yep."

"Then you'll have to walk them down the stairs anyway, and people will still see you."

"Yuna!" whines Satoru, while Megumi sniggers.

"I am merely stating that I would prefer if you knocked, too." She stands up and gestures to the children's belongings. "All of their things are there."

"You're not coming with?" says Satoru, surprised. The children mimic his expression.

"I imagine several Higher-Ups or Great Family members will be there to greet Megumi-kun," says Yuna. "I do not think I should be seen with them, especially given what happened at the Zen'in compound."

"But…"

"It's okay," says Megumi. He hops down from his stool and lands gracefully. "Yuna-san is right. I don't want her to get hurt again."

"She won't!" argues Satoru. "I'll be there. No one would touch her if I'm there—"

"Gojou-kun," Yuna says. "I'm not going."

She glimpses a flash of blue behind his glasses, a bubble of his Cursed Energy, but then Satoru just shrugs and heaves a dramatic sigh.

"Fine, your loss! We're gonna have such a great car ride, I have a karaoke playlist all ready to go!"

Megumi mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, "Kill me now," but Satoru pretends not to hear.

"All right kids! Got your stuff? We're wasting time, let's go! Say bye to Yuna now, 'bye-bye, Yuna!'" Satoru charges out the door without looking back, shouldering both the children's duffel bags with ease.

"Bye, Yuna-san!" Tsumiki bows quickly. "Thank you for fixing my hair! And thank you so much for everything else! Please come visit us soon!"

She follows suit, rolling her small suitcase eagerly after Satoru.

Megumi loiters at the doorframe's edge.

"Thanks, Yuna-san," he mutters, the handle of his rolling suitcase gripped tightly in one hand, the paw of his stuffed animal in the other. His eyes are fixed on his shoelaces. "I know you…I know it was hard having us here. And you…weren't always happy about it. But you helped us anyway, and you and that idiot are the reason Tsumiki can stay happy so…thank you."

Yuna truly deserves to go to hell if a child as small as Megumi can sense how bad of a person she is. She kneels in front of him and lets out a breath.

"Megumi-kun, one day, maybe we will be able to talk about these circumstances in full," she says carefully, "but just know…it was not you or Tsumiki-kun. The problem lies with me, all right? And you do not need to thank me. I…taking care of you both was something I needed to do."

Megumi's eye color is remarkably like Toji's, sharp and aware, a shade bluer than Toji's emerald. Yuna smooths down his hair.

"You have my number, Megumi-kun?"

He nods. "Y-yes."

"It is open to you at any time, all right? No matter what. If you are in trouble. Or lost. Or if Gojou-kun is on your last nerve. You may call or text me."

She reaches into a drawer and pulls out a small scroll. It unravels with several Miracles, which she shows to Megumi.

"I am working on using these over a longer distance," she explains. "They aren't good yet. I still have to be fairly close. But you should always keep one on you, all right? It will protect you from a life-threatening event."

Megumi stares at the crimson characters on the ofuda which glisten as if they are freshly painted. "What happens to you when they go off?"

"That is not for you to worry about."

"Does it hurt you?" says Megumi, alarmed.

"It is not anything I cannot manage."

He shakes his head. "I don't want them. I don't want anything that will hurt you."

"Megumi-kun." Yuna rolls the scroll back up, unzips his luggage, and settles it at the top of the suitcase. "I will be fine if you are fine."

"I'm never going to use them."

"I should hope not," she admits.

"I'd rather…" He swallows. "I'd rather just have the phone number."

"Well, you have that, too," she says pleasantly. "And you can certainly use that one."

Megumi's face contorts, expressive beyond anything Yuna has seen him wear thus far. He looks like he wants to hug her but also needs to vomit and is afraid he will expel his half-digested lunch all over her. She is right about to offer to take him to the toilet when Megumi steps back, bows ninety-degrees, and shouts very loudly (when she has never heard him shout before),

"Thank you very much, Yuna-san!"

He then promptly darts out the apartment, his luggage wheels clunking with every stair he drags it down, leaving Yuna alone in his father's old apartment at long last.

Yuna spends the rest of the afternoon cleaning. She launders all the sheets on the bed and the spare ones on the couch, decompresses the air mattress and rolls it into storage, and rearranges the living room furniture so that it finally resembles a gathering space rather than a second bedroom. The tiny apartment feels oddly empty, especially when Yuna hears the blares of a passing motorcycle or the shouts of the couple next door and realizes she had not noticed them for several months. She busies herself, tidying the rest of the space while intermittently replying texts from Shouko, who confirms that the children arrived safely, or Yuki, who is planning to move to Thailand next. Satoru does not text her. He has been more distant these last few days, and Yuna does not push him. She thinks it is appropriate.

The days are long even in the waning summer, and Yuna finishes her dinner as she sits on the floor of her living room and the setting sun rays curve around her crooked blinds and cast jagged streaks of orange on the carpet. The television is off, nothing but the sounds of the river and the reminders of life outside this apartment permeates through the space. It should feel peaceful. She has always preferred to be alone.

Instead, she thinks of how she had made too much for dinner and now has leftovers. She had bought extra sheets, blankets, and towels for the children and now has no use for them. Their house slippers are too small for Yuna to use but are not worn enough for her to throw them away. Maybe they will come back and visit, but then she remembers she'd told them she didn't want them there, and maybe they will listen to her after all.

Yuna washes the dishes and cleans the kitchen and living room as much as she can before they are left without a trace of the children (except for those house slippers tucked underneath the side table by the entryway). It is not even that late at night, but her chores are completed and she finds herself irritatingly bored. Her nights with the children had always felt busy for no reason—it is harder to clean up after four people rather than one, and even after cleaning they would watch a movie, or read a book, or she and Megumi would practice and seals while Tsumiki worked on supplementary summer lessons. She feels idle but is simultaneously annoyed that she is, because being uncomfortable with being alone is horribly contrary to what she has always expected of herself.

Out of tasks to complete, Yuna prepares for bed. She is in her closet, choosing her clothes for the next day when her eyes unwittingly flit to the topmost shelf, where a shoebox is hidden out of sight. After debating for a second, she grabs a chair from the living room and retrieves the box. Nightmare's Whim is nestled on a bed of tissue paper next to the picture of Shizuka and Megumi. When she takes it out, the demon head hanging off the hilt clinks against the glass orb Toji had given her so long ago.

It was not something she could indulge in when the children lived with her, and if she is being honest, she hadn't craved Nightmare's Whim much when they'd been with her. Now, though, her apartment seems so vast and Yuna feels unbearably alone. She should not feel this way—she did not want the children, did not even deserve to be around them. She is not a mother. Does not even want to be a mother. She did not want Satoru either, did not deserve him, so what is she doing, feeling as if she has lost something she'd never wanted?

She has never been alone when she has Nightmare's Whim stuck inside her. Maybe because those figments from the of her imagination, clothed in the recesses of her guilt and regret, are the only company she deserves. She wonders if this time, the weapon will have some mercy for her. Maybe this time, Toji will be whole and he will grin and say something akin to "Good job, hummingbird," for doing what she had vowed to do even when he had not, rubbing salt on a wound she re-opens of her own volition.

Yuna sits on the edge of her bed, facing the wall. The tip of Nightmare's Whim barely pricks her skin when a voice suddenly shatters the silence.

"What are you doing?"

Yuna jolts up with an unsubtle "Fuck." The knife clatters to the floor as she presses a finger to "Freeze" and whips around before the voice and the Cursed Energy finally register, before her eyes land on Satoru, who stands on the opposite side of her bed, hair messy and Eyes unburdened. He looks tired, which is odd because being tired is practically impossible for Satoru. Maybe it is the casual clothing, the plain green T-shirt and sweatpants, that make him appear his age.

"Gojou-kun." She lowers her arms and kicks Nightmare's Whim underneath the bed. "I told you, I'd prefer if you knocked."

Satoru isn't distracted. He glances down as if he can see through the mattress and bedframe, right at where the blade is hidden, and glares back up at her.

"I can see its Cursed Energy," he says. "I know what that Weapon is."

"I…I can explain."

Satoru raises an eyebrow, cold and haughty. "Really? Go on."

Yuna realizes that she doesn't have a good explanation on hand. Even if Satoru doesn't know what the weapon does, there is not an adequate reason beyond self-harm for stabbing herself in the waist.

"I came by to tell you something, and 'cause I thought you'd be lonely." If Yuna were not rapidly trying to come up with an excuse for her behavior, she would be stunned by both Satoru's accusation of her loneliness and his attempt to assuage it. "Didn't think I'd find you stabbing yourself with a weapon that makes you hallucinate."

"How…" she swallows. "How do you know what it does?"

"Naoya tried to use it on me when we were kids." He walks around the foot of the bed until he is right next to her. "Never hit, of course. But then he'd use it on his servants, the ones who couldn't really use Cursed Energy, to show me how it worked." Yuna remains frozen as Satoru bends down and retrieves the blade, dusting it off on her duvet before fitting it in its sheath. "Did Naoya hit you with it when you went on that mission? Is that why you have it?"

Yuna doesn't answer. She thinks it's better to let Satoru think that is true.

Unfortunately, Satoru doesn't fall for her lies as easily as he used to.

"That asshole, huh," he guesses. Moonlight trickles between the linen drapes. A silver sliver pierces through Satoru's left eye and it glimmers like a sapphire sea. "Makes sense. It must've been shit for him."

Yuna does not say anything. Satoru does not either. He just sits down on the bed and mechanically sheathes and unsheathes the dagger, its inky blade appearing and disappearing in pale light, a shadow from which demons are born.

"You do this to yourself often?" he asks after a long silence.

Yuna shakes her head quickly.

"You've done it for a long time?"

She shakes her head again. Satoru's eyes harden.

"Liar."

She remains quiet.

Satoru places the blade to his right and pulls Yuna toward him so that his thighs cage either side of her. He looks up at her and brings his hand up to tuck her hair behind her ears. Yuna has gone rigid, and she can hear her heart thrum in her ears. Satoru must be able to tell how her Cursed Energy has gone tense right beneath her skin, because his gaze softens and he asks nearly gently,

"What do you see when you hurt yourself?"

It is as if she drank a glass of live fire ants. She doesn't know where to start. She doesn't know what the right answer is. Satoru does not know about her child, dead by her own hands. He does not know how she remembers Toji, supposedly indestructible body torn apart by a god-child. He does not know how she sees that same god-child, dagger between his eyes, blood pouring out of his crushed throat. Satoru does not know how Haibara looked when his body was returned to the School, or how Nanami looked carrying him in. Satoru does not know how Suguru looks when he wants to massacre the patrons of an udon restaurant.

"Toji-san," she croaks, compelled by the gravitational force of the Six Eyes, of the god-child who threatens to either punish or reward, and she does not know which one she wants. "Getou-kun. Haibara-kun."

Satoru nods, a priest taking her confession, a priest with magical eyes and who harbors the secrets of the universe in his irises. A silence stretches. Time condenses and expands in a single atom and multiple galaxies.

"You," she whispers finally.

"Me," he whispers back.

One arm wraps around her waist and the other reaches up around her neck. Satoru pulls her down and kisses her. It's different from that night of four beers, when he'd been shy and hesitant. No, this time Satoru kisses her like he knows she won't refuse, and she doesn't, because how could she? Satoru had come because he thought she would be lonely, and the worst part is that Satoru is right. She kisses him back and Satoru makes a quiet noise that almost sounds like surprise before he slips his tongue in her mouth and she can taste the remnant of lemon-lime soda.

His hold around her tightens and he pulls her onto the bed, climbing over her. It is not like she and Satoru have not been in close physical proximity over these last several months; compared to their time at the School, they had let each other in infinitely closer than before, but this feels different. She can feel Satoru's weight on her, can feel how hot he runs when Infinity is off. His chest is so much wider than hers, his legs much longer, his presence overwhelming. When Yuna's arms can barely wrap around Satoru's shoulders, it is the first time she realizes that maybe Satoru has grown up more than she's given him credit for, that maybe Satoru is not just her previous student and some child-god, but a man.

Satoru stops kissing her for a brief moment and leans his forehead against hers. He's panting a bit, which would be funny because she hasn't seen Satoru break a sweat from physical exertion in years, if it weren't for the fact that Yuna herself can barely breathe. His hand has somehow found its way underneath her T-shirt and rests at the curve of her hip, the contact on her bare skin scorching. He still smells of that wintry cologne, woodsy with orange; he's worn the same scent year-round, and Yuna doesn't have the heart to tell him otherwise because she likes it.

"I think," he says hoarsely while his fingers fiddle with the band of her sleeping shorts, "I've wanted to do this for a while now."

Yuna does not know if that is true, but it seems to be what Satoru believes.

"Don't use that thing on yourself again." He kisses her on the forehead. "Don't hurt yourself." He kisses her nose. "If you're lonely, you call me. I'll come. And I won't hurt you. I swear."

He whispers something under his breath right after, and then something indescribable floods through her—it's akin to the rebound from Nightmare's Whim, but purely emotional, as if someone had taken a hammer to the carefully crafted armor around her greatest insecurities and smashed it to smithereens. When tears flood her vision out of her control, the overwhelming emptiness and the raw, roaring ache remins her of what she'd felt when Toji and she had sworn that binding vow, and she realizes.

"S-Satoru."

He kisses her open mouth. "It's okay."

"No, you just—"

"I know." He kisses her harder.

It tastes like the salt of her tears and Yuna is so overcome by the effects of Satoru's binding vow that she cannot kiss him back. She does not know if she even wants to: how could he do something so foolish, hadn't she warned him before, and she had not been able to swear anything back in return. It is just like Satoru to make such a paramount decision unilaterally and not consider if she'd even wanted it—but maybe Yuna is just fooling herself, because her hands are in Satoru's hair instead of pushing him away and her body is arching off the bed as he slides a hand up her back and she wonders if she can feel Satoru hard against her when then he vibrates.

"Shit," he mutters against her mouth. "Hang on." He shuffles and awkwardly pulls his vibrating phone out of his front pocket. "It's probably my mom, I'll just—" His sentence stops when he reads the screen and he sits up abruptly.

"Who is it?" Yuna sits up carefully, her head spinning as the aftershocks of the binding vow slowly seep away.

Satoru doesn't answer, just stares at his phone dumbly.

"Gojou-kun?" She tugs his hand toward her so the screen tilts toward her and she reads,

Getou Suguru.

Her eyes snap up to meet his, the wide electric blue not of the Gojou heir, owner of the Six Eyes and Infinity and Messiah of the Jujutsu World, but of an eighteen-year-old boy receiving a call from the love of his life.

"Sensei," he croaks.

And just like that, the world rights itself.

August 25th, 2010

From: Ieiri Shouko

[22:10] Don't be stupid, Satoru.
[22:12] You can't just disappear like that.
[22:15] Do you remember anything that I said about CONSEQUENCES.

2 missed calls.

[22:22] You ASSHOLE.

[22:50] What do you think they're gonna do to Megumi and Tsumiki if you don't come back?

From: Morimoto Yuna

[23:44] Gojou-kun, please call me back.
[23:45] I will help you.
[23:46] But you can't be rash about this.
[23:50] This will be easier if we plan things through.

From: Masamichi Yaga

[23:55] Don't do anything stupid, Satoru.
[23:57] There's still a kill-on-sight order for him.
[00:00] Don't make us put one on you, too.

Many years from now, Yuna and Shouko will reflect back on the time Satoru was sent spiraling by a single accidental call from Suguru and laugh (in that morbid way sorcerers do about their dead loved ones) that the strongest sorcerer in jujutsu history could be undone by a butt-dial. In the moment, though, radio silence from the world's most irritating chatterbox is nothing short of terrifying, especially when Satoru had sworn Yuna a binding vow and then had left her apartment without talking any further about it.

In the larger scheme of things, it is not important. No one else knows about the binding vow and Yuna intends to keep it that way. What is infinitely more concerning is the fact that Satoru has effectively disappeared without a single indication of where is going, other than to look for a man he has had no luck locating himself. She tells only Shouko and Yaga about Suguru's call and they all agree to keep it from the Higher-Ups and the Gojou main family, but his absence is so profound that even Megumi notices after two days of not receiving a single incomprehensible text from Satoru.

August 27, 2010

From: Fushiguro Megumi

[16:03] Hi, Yuna-san. This is Fushiguro Megumi.
[16:04] Sorry to bother you.
[16:09] Is Gojou-san on vacation? Tsumiki was wondering.
[16:13] We haven't seen him lately.

Yuna replies with reassurance that Satoru had gone on a last-minute planned vacation to Brazil. The news of his broken engagement to Himari is a timely excuse, though Shouko had made it clear to Yuna that it was mutual and Satoru had done a surprisingly thoughtful job of ensuring Himari's safety by decreeing her under Gojou protection and forcing her family to allow her to attend Kyoto's Jujutsu High. Still, heartbreak can only account for physical absence, not digital.

Shouko is at Yuna's apartment one week after Suguru's call. They both pore over a stack of books Shouko had lugged from the School's Library about tracking Cursed Energy Residuals over large areas, cigarettes in hand, though they know the effort is fruitless; they'd reviewed the same books after Suguru had disappeared.

"It doesn't help that Satoru can fucking teleport," Shouko says dully. It's barely past noon, and she's on her third beer. "He doesn't leave a trail, it's just tiny blips all over the map. Though…I guess we should be glad it's just tiny blips. I guess if he really found Suguru, there'd be a fucking hole in the middle of Tokyo."

Yuna hums. "I wonder if we should go to the police."

Shouko stares at her. "Like, the monkey—I mean, non-sorcerer police?"

She nods. "Gojou-kun doesn't exactly blend in with the general public. Perhaps we'd have more luck catching him on security cameras."

Shouko seems doubtful, but it is the only new idea they've had in days. "Okay. Yaga-sensei has some connections with the police, right?"

"Hopefully he can mobilize them without tipping off the Higher-Ups," says Yuna as she texts Yaga this request. "Many of them help with our public relations fiascos, but they're paid off by the Institution, not Yaga himself."

After she sends the text, her phone rings. Shouko lights up at the sound.

"Satoru?"

"No," Yuna shakes her head. "I don't recognize it."

She picks up the phone. "Hello?"

"Ah, yes, this is Shimida-sensei. Is this Morimoto Yuna-san?"

"Yes."

"Hello, I'm Megumi-kun's homeroom teacher. You are listed as one of his guardians. I tried calling the first one, the…Gojou Satoru, but I didn't get through."

Yuna did not know Megumi had listed her as a guardian and does not quite know how to feel about it.

"I see. Is Megumi-kun all right?"

"Yes, he is fine, we just had a…slight incident at school, and I was hoping you'd come in for a quick chat?"

Yuna glances at Shouko, who clearly can hear the conversation because she gives Yuna a thumbs-up and mouths, "Go ahead."

"Yes, I'll come in now. Please give me thirty minutes."

It takes her less than that to drive to Megumi's elementary school in Saitama, where she meets both Megumi and Shimida-sensei in the teacher's office while the remainder of the class is out during their gym class. It's a familiar setting, though with unfamiliar seating. Yuna has never sat on the opposite of the teacher's desk as a disciplined student before, much less in the role of a parent. Beside her, Megumi stares straight at his shoes that swing back and forth, hitting Shimida-sensei's desk on the way forward and his chair's legs on the way back. Yuna places a warning hand on his shoulder to make him stop. On her other side, Tsumiki looks miserably between them both and then stares at the ground while the teacher explains the events of the lunch hour.

Shimida is the perfect picture of an elementary school teacher: in her mid-thirties, pleasant but not distracting, with pore-less skin, small eyes framed in wire-rimmed glasses, hair permed straight down to her breasts.

"As you know," Shimida says carefully, her voice lilting and high like a flute, "Megumi-kun is an excellent student and does not disrupt in class. He is very respectful of his teachers and also cares very much about his sister. It seems he overheard some children in Tsumiki-chan's class make some…distasteful remarks regarding Tsumiki-chan's mother and so he shoved one rather aggressively down the stairs."

Yuna looks piercingly at Megumi, who avoids her gaze but shrinks in his chair.

"I see," she says. "Is the child injured?"

"It was only a few steps, so no," says Shimida quickly and reassuringly. "They are also being disciplined by their teachers, but I thought I would bring this up with you because it could have been serious."

"Certainly. We will take this seriously, Shimida-san. It will not happen again."

The teacher beams. "I'm certain it will not! Thank you for coming in so quickly."

"Do you want me to take Megumi-kun home?"

Megumi jerks up and looks almost pleadingly at Yuna—going back to Jujutsu High campus seems less of a punishment, more of a refuge, where he'd rather just Summon his Divine Puppies and play with them instead.

"No, that's not necessary!" Shimida waves her hand, and Megumi deflates. "Megumi-kun is always great in gym class, maybe some of the physical activity will burn off that excess energy!"

"Certainly," says Yuna directly to Megumi. "I think that would be good."

He has the audacity to scowl.

"Thank you for letting me know, Shimida-san. I apologize for the trouble. Again, it will not happen again."

Yuna stands up, and the two children scramble up to mirror the movement. Shimida looks curiously between the three of them.

"If you don't mind me asking, Morimoto-san, your relationship with the children?"

"Cousin."

"Oh, I see. I thought you looked a bit too young to be a mother!" laughs Shimida.

Yuna decides not to disagree. "Please excuse us."

"Have a great day!"

When they are out in the hallway of linoleum tiles and cool overhead lights, Tsumiki bows deeply at Yuna and forces Megumi to do the same. "We're so sorry, Yuna-san!"

"You have nothing to apologize for, Tsumiki-kun. I will have a word with your classmate's parents as well. You should put it out of your mind otherwise and just focus on school."

Tsumiki nods and her pigtails nod with her. "I will! I can take Megumi to the track! I think his class is out there."

Yuna shakes her head. "I will walk him there. I would like to speak with him."

"O-okay." Tsumiki gives Megumi an apologetic look for not being able to shield him. "Um, Yuna-san, is Gojou-san okay? He hasn't replied my texts these last few days."

Yuna replies carefully, cautious of how alert Megumi has become. "He's all right. He is going through some things, but he is okay. He'll be back soon."

"Okay…tell him I miss him if you see him, okay? And I found a new taiyaki stand nearby that's really good!" Tsumiki beams. "I'll take him there when he's back!"

"I'll let him know."

"Thank you! Bye, Yuna-san!" Tsumiki waves before disappearing around a set of lockers. When she is gone, Yuna lets out a breath and kneels down in front of Megumi.

"Megumi-kun."

"I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I didn't mean to cause you trouble."

"That's not the point, Megumi-kun. You can't do something like that. You are a sorcerer—Cursed Energy makes you stronger than average. You may seriously injure someone."

"He basically skipped down the last three steps," Megumi tries, but then winces when Yuna squints at him. "Okay. I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

"Good."

"Can you take me back to Jujutsu High for the rest of the day?"

"No. I think staying here is proper punishment for you."

"Yuna-san," he groans, but Yuna just pats him on the shoulder as she straightens up and dusts off her knees.

"Come on, I'll walk you to the track."

He seems relieved at this at least, and as they fall into step together, Megumi's two steps to her every one, he asks,

"Is Gojou-san really okay?"

"Yes."

"I just…I thought he'd come," admits Megumi. "Like all the other stuff we sent him is not important, but I figured a call from our teacher would be important…"

"That's not why you shoved that kid down the stairs, is it?" says Yuna severely.

"No, of course not!" He is aghast Yuna would even suggest it. "I promise!"

She nods. "I believe you."

"I didn't want to cause you trouble either."

"It was not trouble, Megumi-kun. I am…" She thinks over her words. "I was pleasantly surprised to hear you listed me as a guardian."

He looks confused. "Why would you be surprised?"

Yuna decides not to answer him. They exit onto the track, where Yuna gives Megumi's gym teacher a quick apology and leaves Megumi with the promise that she will pick him up later to take him and Tsumiki back to Jujutsu High. Megumi just gives her a surly nod and trots off onto the track, where he is snatched up to be the start of a relay race. Yuna steps out so that Megumi can no longer see her, but stays outside the wired fence to watch them for a bit.

It's a cloudy day, with the threat of rain and the air dense and heavy. She is dressed lightly but even then, sweat drips down her neck and drenches her hair. She needs a haircut. She tries not to be happy that Megumi thinks she's a guardian, even though she isn't. She wants a cigarette, but does not think she can light one around an elementary school.

A surge of Cursed Energy—massive, writhing, grown dramatically since the last time she'd sensed it but familiar in character all the same—suddenly appears behind her.

"You got a kid here?"

Yuna turns around slowly, her eyes still not quite believing even though he is there, clear as day. His hair has grown longer and he lets it run down his shoulders; the black gauges in his earlobes are larger too, and he's dressed in a billowing yellow kasaya over a black yukata that looks a size too big for him, but the smile he wears is the same as it always has been: gentle, with a hint of cocky, but gentle all the same.

"Hi, sensei," says Suguru. "Long time no see."