chapter 4: to have or hold or own

in which the sun and moon collide and shouko reveals a secret

cw: mentions of infanticide, disregard for life, ill-defined and often toxic relationships, possessive language

i cannot emphasize enough how no individual character's actions, opinions, or relationships are to be idolized/emulated

In a penthouse apartment in Roppongi, sunlight streams into the bedroom, as apologetic for Satoru's sleep as university students are of quiet hours. Satoru doesn't sleep much at baseline, a performative reminder of a day's passing rather than as a necessity. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Shouko dryly reminds him that when his Reversed Cursed Energy malfunctions one day, she will not be the one to un-fry his brain. He secretly looks forward to the day.

Satoru is already half-awake when his phone rings, but he ignores it, having personally established a rule that emergencies worth his energy warrant at least two consecutive calls. (Megumi's school has long adapted to this rule, though since Tsumiki's coma, Megumi doesn't have it in him to act up at school anymore). The text messages with Suguru had ended somewhere in the early morning, with Suguru having the last word, leaving Satoru with a film of acid coating his tongue.

Be the hero.

Fuck that. Even now, ten years later, Suguru still somehow knows what buttons to push. They have both grown, changed, two opposite ends of a parabola destined to grow only further and further apart but ever cognizant of their common origin. Chosen hero, Honored One, the terms do not matter; they are chasing the same thing, the ability to rewrite the world, and whoever is the one standing over the other's corpse in the end is the one who gets to be crowned Hero.

Satoru does not doubt for even the slightest moment that he will be the last one standing. He has known this since he awakened. It has taken him ten years to swallow the bitterness that comes with being the last one, because that means he is the only one, and he does not know if it is Suguru who decided that for him or if being the only one is the only option he has ever had.

Satoru had bought the penthouse in Roppongi several years ago, during what Shouko likes to call his "fuckboy phase." He finds the accusation rich. They both find it difficult to bring strangers back to Jujutsu High, where Yuna's Barriers blare and would probably alert her of every non-sorcerer tryst. Admittedly, Shouko has actually gone steady with a handful of girlfriends, while Satoru "runs through them like diarrhea," though he does not appreciate that kind of colorful language. The penthouse has had its fair share of visitors, but recently, it is just him in his moods; it is where Satoru retreats when the Higher-Ups are on his last nerve and he has half-mind to Hollow Purple the shit out of Jujutsu High and maybe all of Tokyo. When he looks out the window, over the Shibuya skyline and the specks of Cursed Energy flickering like strobe lights, he remembers that he has made a choice—that being the Strongest was not his choice, but paving the path for the Strongest to come is.

He likes the students. He doesn't like much else.

The phone rings again, and Satoru groans, rolling over to his side and fumbling for the phone on the nightstand. He is purposely slow about it, knowing whatever awaits him at the other end will assuredly be a disaster, probably something about Suguru's Residuals found all over Shinjuku, leaving a trail of corpses in his wake. Satoru finds it only a tad annoying; what is the point of announcing a scheduled massacre if he is going commit small-scale, unscheduled murders in the meantime?

The phone stops ringing by the time Satoru grips it and squints at the screen, far too bright for his naked Eyes. The time reads 12:55. There are two missed calls from Yaga, and as he unlocks his phone, a barrage of texts seizes it.

From: Yaga Masamichi

[12:55] Pick up your phone.
[12:55] Okkotsu just released Rika on accident
[12:55] when Yuna was doing Barrier work.

Satoru straightens up so he can read better, an unbidden stone dropping in his stomach.

[12:56] Yuna got hurt.

He just stares at the ellipses indicating Yaga's active texting. He knows it would be faster just to call Yaga back, but Satoru does not want to. Something about his tongue being stuck in his throat, heavy, bated breath, stone sinking. He'd prefer hovering in this space of not knowing, if the truth meant the worst.

[12:56] Okkotsu managed to seal Rika before it got bad.
[12:57] Shouko's seeing Yuna now.
[12:57] She's unconscious but alive, at least.

Satoru breathes.

[12:57] Get to campus. The School's alarm went off.
[12:57] The Higher-Ups are going to know.
[12:58] They're gonna isolate Okkotsu again.

[12:58] No other injuries?

[12:59] No.

[13:00] I'll handle the Higher-Ups.

He climbs out of his bed, king-sized, memory foam, down comforter with thousand-thread-count sheets. The non-Sorcerers he brings back here always assume he's a foreign, trust-fund heir, which given the depths of the Gojou family coffers, is not entirely wrong. Once, Shouko had swung by when one of Satoru's trysts was heading out; Shouko had decided to play the part of the spurned girlfriend, but unable to muster the energy for convincing hysteria, had overplayed her wanton disregard for life, alarming Satoru's date that Shouko would do something drastic. He'd apologized profusely to Shouko, swearing that Satoru was not good enough for either of them in the end, and had promised to set Shouko up with one of his straight friends without any clue Shouko held generally little regard for any kind of dick, much less Satoru's.

He'd revoked her house key privileges after that.

Satoru nearly pulls on the same clothes he wore the day before but they smell too strongly of udon, so he opts for something casual, a speckled gray sweater and jeans, white sneakers. On his way out the door, he plucks a decade-old pair of sunglasses off the entryway console: the shades are pitch-black, custom-made, luxury, with gold wiring and nary a scratch on them. Filtered through, his cell phone screen is less offensive, and Satoru can text back more comfortably.

To: Yaga Masamichi

[13:08] Yuna all right?

[13:09] Hope so.

[13:10] Shouko will handle it?

[13:11] Yeah, think so.

Satoru grimaces.

[13:12] Great. Gonna go see the Higher-Ups first.

[13:14] Don't do anything dumb, Satoru.

[13:14] I won't if they don't.

He starts another text. Tell Yuna sorry in advance.

He deletes it. There's no point. She will find out what he is about to do, and she won't be surprised. The first day is over, and they're in Tokyo now, where Gojou Satoru is the Strongest and the Honored One, the only one, where he does not have the luxury of being anyone else.

September 25th, 2011.

Yuna does not dream much—or rather, she does not remember her dreams when she wakes. She theorizes it is because using Nightmare's Whim so many times has sapped her of all ability to dream—pleasant or not—though when she thinks about it, she has never been one to dream, because she has never been one to hope.

One night in Seoul, several weeks after her somewhat disastrous trip to Tokyo that had involved a parent-teacher-conference with Megumi's teacher upon landing and the first time she'd ever willingly used her Technique on Satoru, Yuna wakes up in the middle of the night. For a split second, she faintly recalls a dream that involves being attacked by bees, only to realize that it is the buzzing of her phone that had woken her up.

As she stretches to the nightstand for the culprit, Yuki stirs next to her, her arm draped loosely around Yuna's waist.

"Who the fuck is texting you in the middle of the night?" Yuki complains, ever the light sleeper.

"I don't know," she whispers. "Sorry. Go back to sleep."

Yuki scoots closer to her, resting her head on Yuna's shoulder so she can also see the screen as Yuna flips her phone open.

From: Gojou Satoru

[03:45] Whoa, Korean looks nothing like Japanese.
[03:45] It's got circles!
[03:46] OK, got your address from Shouko
[03:46] but can't read the signs

[03:48] YUNAAAA I'm LOST
[03:50] Where's your apartment?

Yuki snorts. "What the fuck. Is he drunk?"

"He doesn't drink much. He…sometimes his Technique does this." Yuna pulls away from her, finding her house slippers and padding over to their shared closet for something to toss on.

She had left Satoru in what she'd hoped was a stable place several weeks ago. Her use of "Sleep" had put Satoru out for nearly a full day, much to everyone's general panic because Yuna herself thought the maximum effect of "Sleep" was only three hours. When Satoru had finally awakened, he'd assured her that perhaps he was more tired than he'd thought, and he would no longer go days without sleeping and with his Techniques active at maximum output. Yuna, eager to leave Japan, had taken Satoru's assurance at face value, but not without the nagging worry that she was being too cavalier in favor of her own desire to leave.

Yuna strips out of her sleeping shirt and shorts in favor of a loose hoodie and frayed pair of jeans that are too long for her—they are likely Yuki's. She buttons them up before finding a pair of mismatched socks on the ground and putting them on, too. Living with Yuki has been an adjustment; Yuna's space has always been fastidiously clean, but Yuki is a whirlwind of chaos and Yuna has had to learn how to control it as best as she can in their shared space. No matter that living with Yuki generally means living in nicer, larger apartments than if Yuna were to live on her own. Yuki's presence is like helium, ever expanding, able to fill up whatever space she is given, if not more. Their apartment is in Gangnam, with one month's rent worth the cost of at least a Grade Two mission. Yuna has long established that if they will live in such luxury, Yuki will have to take missions herself.

"Is he here?" says Yuki, stunned. "In Seoul?"

"I think so."

"And you're gonna go out at…" Yuki looks at the clock, "four in the morning to find him? In a city neither of us really knows?"

"I'll figure it out, Yuki-san, I'll call him. You don't need to worry about it. Go back to sleep."

"Don't be stupid." Yuki stretches as she sits up, long limbs lissome and bare in moonlight, before she climbs out of bed, too. "You think I'm gonna pass up an opportunity to see the Messiah of the Jujutsu World make an utter fool of himself?"

"Yuki-san."

"I'm kidding," she grins. She finds a pair of sweatpants but leaves her top the same, a tight T-shirt that leaves little of her ample figure to imagination. Yuna offers her a cardigan to cover up, but Yuki shakes her head. "Not cold. It's all good. I like the idea of Gojou Satoru owing me a favor."

"How would you be doing him a favor?"

"Well, you're finding him and doing him a favor, and by extension, doing me one," she says, as if it's obvious.

Yuna thinks as she tucks a subway card and card case into her pocket and slides on a pair of open-backed sandals. "Are our favors pooled, Yuki-san?"

Yuki senses her resistance, the heft of her question, and her grin sharpens. "Of course, Yuna-chan. What's mine is yours, too."

Yuna does not know if that is true. She does not claim Satoru or Megumi or Shouko as hers, but does not want to share them with Yuki, even if Yuna has spent the last year running from them.

"You do not need to come."

Yuki doesn't bother tying her shoelaces and barges out the apartment first, even though she has no idea where they are going. "It's been long enough. You can't hide him from me forever!"

Yuna knows this is true. The fact that Yuki and Satoru have still not met is remarkable, but the fate of two Special Grades is something Yuna has little control over. She tells herself that Yuki would have met Suguru eventually, even if Yuna had tried to prevent it from happening. At the end of the day, Suguru had made his own decision, as Yuki likes to remind her whenever the topic of Suguru arises and Yuna gets snippy with her, and so Yuki is absolved from any serious responsibility.

Satoru has more mental fortitude than Suguru, less easily swayed because he has less humanity to lose. This was bound to happen at some point, and Yuna can tell from the way Yuki strides to the subway station that the Special Grade is excited.

Yuna calls Satoru and has him send her his location, or at least some landmarks near him. Luckily, he is not far from the Airway Terminal, and a quick subway ride later, she and Yuki find Satoru lounging at the entrance of the Coex Aquarium, even though it is closed.

"Gojou-kun."

He swivels around on his suitcase, long legs gangly like a spider. He is dressed too lightly for the cool fall air, in a T-shirt and black cardigan, light ripped jeans, the sunglasses she'd gifted him for his graduation perched neatly on his nose-bridge. His lips are curled around a lollipop in a grin, but when he sees Yuki next to her, the smile melts into something sour.

"Who are you?" he says, tone uninviting.

"Now, is that anyway to greet your teacher and her beautiful classmate, companion, and your senpai?" laughs Yuki. "It's nice to finally meet you, Gojou Satoru-kun."

He surveys her up and down. Yuki is a feat to behold, nearly as tall as Satoru himself, eye-catching in the way Satoru is, too, with her long blonde hair and Cursed Energy thrumming like a nuclear reactor. Her back is straight and tall even with the weight of her dragon curled around her. Her chin is bent low the way those who are accustomed to looking down on others do, and Yuna imagines Satoru finds it challenging to look in a mirror and find Yuki in his reflection.

Satoru's eyes narrow. "Tsukumo Yuki."

"Tsukumo Yuki-san," chides Yuna gently as she approaches him. "Manners, Gojou-kun, though I suppose that's a lost cause given you've woken us up at four in the morning. What are you doing here?"

He shrugs. "Dunno. Couldn't sleep. Figured something cool out with my teleportation and wanted to show you."

Yuna stares. "You teleported from Tokyo?"

"Not really. I teleported onto the last plane to Seoul." He stretches his arms out. "Good thing they had extra seats."

She looks at his luggage. "You packed?"

"Yeah, figured I'd stay with you for a while, you can show me around, I've never been to Korea before, heard they have some old jujutsu families here—"

"Hang on," Yuki interrupts, half-laughing, "you hopped on a plane on a whim and woke us up at four in the morning because you couldn't sleep?"

"I don't remember asking for you," says Satoru rudely.

"Don't think you asked for Yuna either. Not by your whiny texts."

"Yuki-san," says Yuna wearily.

"This is on you too," says Yuki pointedly. "I always tell you, you spoil your kids too much. He arrives in a different country, unannounced, in the middle of the night and you just run out here to pick him up? What kind of message is that sending?"

"It's…" Yuna does not know how to explain guilt to Yuki. "I was just worried about Gojou-kun, that's all."

"Why?" scoffs Yuki. "He's fucking indestructible, isn't he?"

Satoru bites down on his candy and his smirk is jagged. "Yeah, you wanna go?"

Yuki's dragon stirs and one eye peeks open. "Can't say I'm not tempted."

"No," says Yuna, stepping in between them. "It's late, and I'm tired. Let's just go home."

"Fine." Satoru swings one arm around Yuna, hunching low so his chin juts into her shoulder. He looks at Yuki. "Take me home, Yuna."

"Our apartment isn't far from here. We have another bed you can sleep on."

Satoru's arm around her tightens. "We?"

Yuki blows him a kiss, unfazed, the first Special Grade of their generation, superior. "Hey, roomie. You can take the guest bed. Yuna and I share most nights, anyway."

Satoru looks like Yuki slapped him. "Why the fuck would you share, I've slept with her before—"

"Gojou-kun," says Yuna swiftly, trying to cut Satoru off, but the damage is done. The last time Yuna saw Yuki smile so widely, she'd slaughtered an entire family of Thai Curse Users in cold blood.

"Yuna! You little sneak! I asked you that time with Getou-kun—"

"It's not like that," Yuna says sharply. She has never liked how familiarly Yuki throws around Suguru's name, nor has she ever appreciated what Yuki is implying, even if when it comes to Satoru, Yuki may be half-right. "It's nothing like that, we haven't—it's not anything like that."

Yuki laughs. "Nothing like you and me, right? Good. I was gonna ask him what kind of woman is his type, but I think I have that answer already." The dragon rouses fully from Yuki's shoulders, its red pupils the crimson pearl of an oyster's mouth, and when Yuki suddenly appears right in front of Satoru and leans close, the dragon purrs. "As long as you know, Satoru-kun, she's only your Object because I let it happen. She's mine first."

The expanding galaxy meets the core depths of the earth, and Satoru's Eyes threaten to burn Yuki alive. "You fucking bitch—"

"Language," cuts in Yuna, mere mortal strung between gods, and she pushes slightly against Yuki to make her back off. "Gojou-kun. Apologize."

"Why the fuck—"

"You can't talk to Yuki-san like that." Her voice comes out severe. "Apologize."

He stares at her, livid; she can feel his body shaking against hers, because how dare she choose sides and not choose his, but now is not the time for Satoru to be angry. Yuna wants this to be over. She cannot let Yuki know the truth between her and Satoru, that he has sworn her a binding vow, that they have slept together in a way that sometimes feels more intimate than sex. Yuki cannot know, because Yuna does not want to share Satoru, but Yuki will certainly grasp for that option if it is available.

"Please," she says quietly. "Just do it, Gojou-kun."

Yuna can hear Satoru's teeth grind next to ear as he grits out, "Sorry."

Yuki looks between the two of them, delighted. "Good! There's hope for you yet." She spins on her heel, whistling as she strides back in the direction of the station they'd come from. "Come on, roomies! I'm exhausted. Let's go home."

Satoru turns to Yuna and opens his mouth to demand an answer, but Yuna realizes that she does not have an explanation for him either. It is the first time Satoru has met Yuki, and while Satoru does not expect strangers to grovel at his feet, he has grown accustomed to some degree of deference to his strength, especially when he is baring his fangs. Instead, Yuki laughs at him like he is a child, dismisses him like he is beneath her, and Yuna had sided with her. Satoru does not understand, but just as Yuna cannot teach Yuki guilt, she cannot teach Satoru obligation.

All of this hits Yuna abruptly, and she feels filthy, seized with the desire to peel her skin off and repent. Instead, she just squeezes the arm around her shoulders, head bowed, and says very quietly,

"Sorry, Gojou-kun."

Something in her voice makes Satoru halt, and behind his glasses, his irises strike dawn in the dead of night. He does not understand everything, but he understands some.

"Whatever." He straightens up and releases her. "What a bitch."

"Gojou-kun—"

"You're not mine," he says curtly. "But you're sure as hell not hers either."

Yuna stares at him as he grabs his aluminum luggage, flashy, Rimowa. He takes her hand in his and drags her along. They don't talk much on the way back to the apartment, but sitting next to each other on the subway, he stuffs her hand in his pocket. Yuki just smirks at them, but Yuna, heart warm but burning and undeserving, does not pull away.

Yuna wakes up in the morgue. The thin, starch sheet does nothing to blunt the way the steel table typically reserved for corpses digs into her shoulder blades, but it is her head that throbs the most when she opens her eyes and immediately winces away from the overhanging fluorescent lights.

"Sorry."

Shouko's voice is smooth, sedate as the lights dim and Yuna blinks carefully, letting her one eye adjust as she sits up slowly. Shouko's hand is on her back, easing her up, and the rest of the morgue comes into focus. Of the nine beds in the room, she is on the one closest to the stairwell that leads to the exit. The ones immediately surrounding her are empty; four are in use, their contents covered with white sheets, though three are splotched with blood and one with an eerie sickly hue of violet that Yuna does not want to identify. Formaldehyde assaults her nostrils and her head spins. An empty pail appears in front of her right as Yuna hurls the contents of her pitiful breakfast, flecks of orange yolk mixed with bile.

"Sorry," rasps Yuna. Shouko just shakes her head and dabs Yuna's mouth with a clean napkin before giving her a bottle of water.

"She broke three ribs and fractured a vertebra," says Shouko. "I healed them. You're not having any weakness or pain otherwise?"

Yuna wiggles her fingers and toes before unscrewing the water bottle and finding that everything feels normal. "No. Just my head."

Shouko nods. "It'll pass. Mild concussion, but nothing for me to fix."

"Thank you, Shouko-san." Yuna looks around the room. "Okkotsu-kun…"

"He's fine, but Yaga had to put him in the isolation chamber."

"It wasn't his fault—"

"Okkotsu insisted." Shouko tosses the dirty napkin into the pail and sets it aside. "The School's alarms went off—the Higher Ups know what happened and would have locked him up anyway. It's a better look for him that it was voluntary. Satoru won't let anything happen to him, don't worry."

Yuna knows this is true. When it comes to his students, Satoru is remarkably protective. With the exception of Panda, who is Yaga's, each of the first-years is only at Jujutsu High due to Satoru's advocacy. Even Toge, despite being from a heralded clan, had been admitted because Shouko had brought him to Satoru's attention; she had been consulted by Inumaki clan elders on the best way to remove Toge's tongue without inciting a retributive curse, as the child has accidentally cursed clan elders four times his age without significant training. Satoru, who holds all clan elders in little regard, had found it hilarious and promised the Inumaki clan that he would deal with Toge personally, only to bring him to Jujutsu High and register him as a Grade Two Sorcerer the next day.

"No one else was injured?" Yuna asks.

"No." Shouko rummages in her pocket and pulls out a small white bottle. Without reading the label, she pops the lid open and dumps three red tablets out in Yuna's palm. "Just you."

"Good."

Shouko's lips quirk. "Of course you'd say that. What'd you do to make Rika-chan angry, Yuna-san?"

"I should have been more careful. I approached the situation like I do when I use Gojou-kun's Cursed Energy, but I did not ask Rika herself for permission, just Okkotsu-kun. Their Cursed Energies felt similar enough, but perhaps that was my mistake." Yuna takes the pills and swishes them down with the rest of her water.

Shouko waits until Yuna has finished swallowing before saying,

"Yaga-sensei said that Rika-chan mentioned your child. She called you a murderer."

The plastic bottle freezes at Yuna's lips, but only long enough for Yuna to pretend like she is still drinking. When she lowers the bottle, she looks straight at Shouko and says, "She is a curse with the mental capacity of a first-grader. She was confused."

Shouko gives a small smile. "I forgot how good of a liar you are, Yuna-san, only because you make us believe you are such a bad one. You do not need to worry. We are in the morgue for a reason. The dead do not talk. The Higher-Ups have no ears here."

She takes Yuna's bottle from her and sets it aside, supposedly for recycling. Shouko's movements have such a quiet elegance to them, and she radiates no ill intent, not that her Cursed Technique allows her to.

"You forget," says Shouko casually, as if they are having this conversation over tea and not with four corpses lying nearby, "that Suguru and I were the ones who exhumed your child's body in Ogawa."

Yuna says nothing, barely breathes, as Shouko continues.

"I did a graveside autopsy, just quickly. There were signs of trauma." Shouko touches her own neck. "Two heads, but one trachea, and it was compressed quite forcefully. Not hard to break, for such a small thing, especially if one has recently discovered Cursed Energy."

"Shouko-san—"

"I told Suguru it was because the thing came out breech," says Shouko, tone the same smooth, flawless, like dipping chocolate. "Not a surprise, given its two heads. He bought it."

Yuna just stares at her. It is as if Shouko has her hand on Yuna's neck, pressing down, and if she did it, Yuna does not think she would fight her off. But Shouko does not such thing, unflappable even as she recounts a case of infanticide.

"I've kept your secret for ten years, Yuna," says Shouko lightly. "You can trust me."

"You haven't," Yuna's voice comes out shaky, and she clears it. "You haven't told anyone?"

"It wasn't mine to tell," she replies.

"And you don't…" Yuna looks away, suddenly finding her ability to meet Shouko's gaze unwarrantedly bold. "You must loathe me."

"Considering I have spent the last ten years trying very hard to be your friend," says Shouko dryly, "I think you are gravely misreading our relationship. Or I am very bad at sending signals, which is entirely possible."

Yuna does not laugh.

Shouko sighs. "Yuna-san, I am the last person in the world who will hold what you did against you. You were a child. You were raped, tortured, gods know what. And the…the thing was not really human. It was a Curse, or some kind of hybrid, something determinedly not human. You did what you needed to do to survive."

"That's an excuse horrible people use to justify their existence," says Yuna hollowly.

"Yes, well, the world is full of horrible people," shrugs Shouko, decidedly unbothered by this fact. "All the good ones die young. My point is, Yuna, I don't care and I don't blame you. I've told no one. Have you?"

Yuna's tongue feels like lead. "No one alive."

Shouko clearly finds the answer strange, but does not push it. "Satoru doesn't know?"

"No. Of course not."

"Huh. For some reason, I thought you would've told him by now." Shouko steps away to organize her scalpels and several bottles of unlabeled liquid, all translucent. "Probably for the best. So, if no one other than us two knows about it, then whatever it was, it must have resonance with Rika somehow, on the curse plane of existence."

"Did Yaga-sensei believe her?"

"Nah, he thinks half of what Rika says is gibberish. He dismissed it. It just felt weird, so I wanted to make sure with you." Shouko hands several items to Yuna: a dried fruit bar, another bottle of water, and her phone, its screen with a single crack stretching diagonally.

Yuna takes the items gratefully. "Thank you, Shouko-san. For…for keeping it to yourself."

She waves the thanks off. "I'm always on your side, Yuna-san. Just be careful. We understand so little about curses, and Rika is a different grade altogether. The only person I think who really gets curses is Suguru, but…" Her voice trails off.

Perhaps Suguru gets curses, or maybe it was the curses that got Suguru.

"He doesn't know, right?" asks Yuna to confirm.

"Nah." Shouko gestures for them to leave the morgue. "He doesn't."

From: Dickhead

[15:49] Another unsanctioned full manifestation of Orimoto Rika?
[15:50] Bet the Higher-Ups are loving that!

[16:44] Dude, don't you have something better to do
[16:45] like plan city-scale massacres?

[16:46] I was in the middle of that, thanks very much.
[16:47] But got the alert and just wanted to check
[16:47] It'll be such a waste if you just execute him
[16:48] Give Okkotsu-kun to me! I'll take care of him!

[16:50] Leave my kids alone.

[16:55] It's the Higher-Ups bothering him, not me.
[16:55] Seriously, he'll be happier with me.
[16:55] It's a good offer!

[16:57] Seriously, fuck off.

[17:00] Fine, fine. I have a meeting anyway
[17:01] with some monkey couple from Ogawa
[17:02] but apparently there's $$$, so that's great.
[17:02] I'll trade them for Okkotsu-kun any day though!

"Um, Gojou-sensei."

Yuuta's morose address jolts Satoru out of his furious texting session and he stuffs his phone away. They are stuck in traffic on the way back to Jujutsu High campus after a meeting with the Higher-Ups on Gojou family grounds. It had been a silly little power move to demand they meet on the Gojou estate, but Satoru wanted to inconvenience the Higher-Ups as much as possible and had teleported Yuuta out of the isolation chamber before the meeting had even been called, in case Gakuganji or one of the other conservatives got sneaky and tried to kill Yuuta before they'd even met.

Now, with the traffic jam at a complete standstill, suggesting a severe crash up ahead, he regrets being petty and making Ichiji come all the way out to pick them up even though Satoru could have easily teleported them back. He'd been reluctant to return to campus quickly, though, dreading giving Yaga or Yuna the explanation of how he'd gotten the Higher-Ups to give Yuuta another pass.

"Yes, Yuuta?"

"Are you…" Yuuta gestures to himself, unchained, "really sure this is okay?"

"Yuuta, I know you have a lot of issues and believe me, if being in handcuffs gets you off, then that's fine but—"

"Gojou-san!" squeaks Ichiji from the front of the car, face coloring in the rearview mirror. "Okkotsu-kun is a kid, that is inappropriate!"

Satoru laughs. "Eyes on the road, Ichiji. I wasn't saying I was gonna handcuff him. All I'm saying is that it's fine, Yuuta. If I'm around, Rika-chan isn't an issue."

"But," hesitates Yuuta, "the whole point is that you can't be around all the time, and this morning happened and she—I hurt Morimoto-san badly and maybe I shouldn't be roaming around after all, maybe the Higher-Ups are right and I should be locked away forever or maybe you should just execute me—"

Satoru leans over and flicks Yuuta right in the middle of his forehead. "Shut up, Yuuta."

"Ow, Gojou-sensei!"

"Don't say things you don't mean," says Satoru as he settles back in his seat. "You told Maki, didn't you? You wanted to be worthy of living?"

Yuuta stares at his hands. "Yes."

"Then do that. Stick with it. Don't be swayed by the little stuff."

"That…what I did to Morimoto-san wasn't little, Gojou-sensei. She," he swallows, as if the words cause him physical pain, "she got really, really hurt."

"Didn't you hear my explanation to the Higher-Ups?" says Satoru curtly. "She's an Object. You didn't hurt a person, so technically, they can't imprison you for that."

Yuuta looks at him, stunned. "D-did you really mean all that?"

Ichiji looks back at them through the rearview mirror, his expression supremely uncomfortable. Ichiji is too young to have been enrolled at Jujutsu High to remember the contentious circumstances under which Yuna's Cursed Object status had been declared. Instead, her official title as Gojou's Special Grade Cursed Object has only come up a handful of times in Ichiji's memory, each time as uncomfortable with the Higher-Ups as the last, but he knows better than to voice his concerns aloud.

"No," says Satoru honestly. "I don't. But that's off-record, and when I tell Yuna all this, she'll agree it was the right thing to do. So that's what I mean, Yuuta. Don't be swayed by the little stuff. The adults will handle this."

Ichiji's expression morphs into something laughably akin to respect, and when Yuuta nods and settles back in his seat, furrow between his eyebrows just a tad eased, Satoru knows he is right.

It doesn't make telling Yuna any easier. Satoru arrives back on campus, tells Yuuta to go catch up on the day's training with his classmates, before telling Yaga first. He lets Yaga smack him across the head because he deserves it. Nonetheless, even Yaga knows Satoru made the right decision, so he dismisses him with only one smack and the warning, "You can tell her yourself, Satoru," because at the end, telling Yuna herself is the most appropriate punishment Satoru deserves.

He knocks on the door to Yuna's room and waits until he hears her, "Come in," to slide it open. She sits on her bed, eyes soft and wide, horrible green hair trailing in loose waves down her back, but otherwise well and unharmed. Her phone is on, its screen cracked, but not enough to distort the image of a video call.

"Gojou-kun," greets Yuna. "I'm chatting with Yuki-san."

Satoru smiles, trying hard to make sure it doesn't look like a grimace. He does not understand what Yuna sees in Yuki, though he supposes Yuki could say the same of him. Long has Satoru moved past the jealous, petty stage (or at least, the stage in which he expressed it), and instead he kneels behind Yuna on her mattress and waves at Yuki, who is lying out on a beach somewhere, aviators over her eyes and a straw sipping a coconut drink in her mouth.

"Yoohoo! Yuki-chan!"

"Gojou-kun," mutters Yuna disapprovingly.

Yuki does not care about titles, unfazed by Satoru's blatant disregard for them as well. "Hi, Gojou-kun! It's been a while! I haven't seen you since Barcelona, right?"

The barb is pointed, because everyone knows how much of a disaster Barcelona had been, but Satoru's smile simply widens. "I guess not. I've been busy."

"Me too! I'm on a bit of a break right now though, all the way in Mexico. Have you been?"

"Can't say I have. We'll all have to go sometime."

"Ah, yes, you, me, and Yuna-chan, though she probably is getting too much sun in Los Angeles already. Do you hate her hair as much as I do?"

Hearing that Yuki hates Yuna's hair somehow makes Satoru hate it less. "It's different."

"That's a lot nicer than what I had to say about it. But enough about that. I've heard all about your fantastic first-year class, even though Yuna has been so tight-lipped about them!"

Off screen, Satoru slips an arm around Yuna's waist, holding her as he relaxes more comfortably behind her. His hand pats her thigh in silent thanks that Yuna has kept the first-years away from Yuki—namely, Maki—and Yuna nods imperceptibly in understanding.

"Well, another Special Grade is hard to hide," admits Satoru. "We should be happy to have such a young one join our ranks, eh?"

"Ah, yes, Okkotsu Yuuta-kun," says Yuki dreamily. "Absolutely astounding. A great replacement for Getou-kun, no?"

"Speaking of," cuts in Yuna, as Satoru's hold on her thigh suddenly tightens, "Yaga-sensei would like you to come back in December and help us, Yuki-san. With Getou-kun's declaration of war."

The hand she is not using to hold her phone lands gently on top of Satoru's.

"You mean his parade?" chortles Yuki. "You know I'd be more likely to help Getou-kun than help you guys."

"I know you don't really mean that," demurs Yuna.

"You're right," sighs Yuki, "of course I'd rather help you guys. But December is a bad time for me, and Japan is so cold then, I'd rather just spend the New Year's here! Besides, with you, Gojou-kun, even Getou-kun shouldn't be a problem, right? Unless for whatever reason, you want there to be a problem?"

The question lingers pointedly, the tip of an acupuncture needle aimed straight between Satoru's eyes, but Yuna swats it away.

"Yuki-san, Yaga-sensei says that it is an official request to all alumni and members of the Three Great Families."

"Ugh, fine, just RSVP me as a maybe?" Yuki sips her coconut drink. "I'll think about it. In the meantime, maybe poke around and see if you can get a lead on Tengen's door?"

Satoru arches an eyebrow at Yuna, but she just says, "I'll see what I can do."

"Great!" beams Yuki. "All right, there's a cute guy asking me to go surf, so I'm gonna head out. Good seeing you, Gojou-kun!"

"Bye, Yuki-chan!"

Yuna ends the call, and Satoru makes a contorted little noise in his throat that makes her laugh. He does not let go of her, instead tugging her so they both lie down on her covers, her back pressed to his chest, his chin resting on her shoulder. She does not resist much, but like clockwork, as if something in her is programmed to at least verbally protest,

"What are you doing?"

"I was worried about you!" he whines. "Yaga said you got hurt really badly!"

"Shouko-san fixed me up. I'm fine. You know that. It has been hours."

Satoru shifts so that both his arms loop around her.

"Did someone see you come in?"

"They know I'm here. Yaga does, anyway. He sent me here to talk to you."

"You got Okkotsu-kun out from underneath the Higher-Ups safely?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

She does not press any further. Satoru buries his nose in the crook of her neck. She's so small in his arms, his legs almost dangle off her mattress, and sometimes he thinks if he squeezes too hard, she will burst in his arms.

"Don't you wanna know how?" His voice is muffled into her skin.

"No, I don't."

"I said the only thing that got hurt was Gojou Inventory Special Grade Cursed Object," he says, ignoring her, the words flying out quickly because the faster he confesses, the faster it will all be over and Yuna can just look at him with those big, dark eyes full of disappointment and Satoru can remember once and for all that nothing between them can happen and there is a reason why Yuna runs to Yuki and why Satoru texts Suguru. "I said you had probed Rika on my orders and suffered consequences within expectation of Curse Object study. The only person who should've been bothered by you getting hurt was me, and I wasn't, so as long as I, the Gojou Head and thereby owner of said Object, did not press charges, then technically no harm was done and Yuuta did not cause any casualties and could be let off without any punishment."

A long silence follows after Satoru finishes speaking. He waits for Yuna to push him off, for her to dismiss him, for her to announce that maybe she will go back to Los Angeles after all, where she is a person of her own agency and not a Cursed Object who can be abused and not have a thing to say about it.

Yuna shifts and Satoru loosens his grip around her but does not fully draw away. She turns around so that they are facing each other, and when she makes no move to push him away, he lets his arm settle back around her waist and just waits. In the corner of his eye, the bonsai he secretly waters is lush and green even in the cooling months, mocking in its fortitude.

Yuna reaches up to his glasses and tugs them off. Light bursts into Satoru's vision, but the sun has already set and the lamplight in Yuna's room is low, as if she had known in advance that he would be visiting.

"I bought these for your graduation, didn't I?" she asks, examining the glasses in her hands.

"I…uh, I think so." He peers at them with her, as if it's a question, even though he already knows the answer.

She hums. "I like them more than the bandages."

"Yeah, but I didn't want them to fall off during a fight or something."

She hums again and sets them aside. "Did you get dinner already?"

"Nah. Not that hungry."

"Me neither. But I'm a bit tired. I hit my head rather hard earlier."

Satoru stiffens. "Do you—"

"Shouko-san said no concussion. It's probably the jetlag." She rests her forehead on his chest, easily, perfectly where Satoru's chin can rest on top of her head. "Maybe we can sleep for a bit, then get dinner?"

"Yeah. That sounds good." He presses his lips in her hair. "You're not mad, Yuna?"

"No, Gojou-kun. You did what you had to do. And I know you do not think that genuinely about me."

"No," he agrees. "I don't."

"Besides," Yuna's voice has a lull in it, two steps from sleep. Perhaps she is more tired than she let on. "I've done worse things than you, Gojou-kun."

"Huh?"

There is no answer. He doesn't know if she is just ignoring him or if she has fallen asleep, but he does not push her further. It is a better reaction than he expected, and he knows when to count his blessings. He silences both their phones and sets them down on the nightstand next to his glasses. He is not tired, but he can wait.

They sleep together. Everyone knows, and no one knows, except for them, and right now, it is all he can ask for.