Chapter 7: A Moment of Grace, A Thread of Enlightenment

There ought to be a law limiting the amount of sugar one could add to a cup of coffee.

When Fr. O'Malley assured Hannah that Satoru would come find her when he was ready to talk, she hadn't imagined he'd show up at her doorstep the following morning, looking stunningly handsome in a black bomber jacket and stone washed jeans, white Chuck Taylor's tapping the floor impatiently.

"You've got ten minutes," he said, Six Eyes glittering behind dark sunglasses. "Get dressed."

Hannah was ready for him in six.

Next thing she knew, she was standing outside a random street corner in Tokyo, herded into a coffee shop far too commercialized to be authentic, and made to watch the world's strongest sorcerer alter the chemical composition of his drink. Hannah couldn't say how sweet a "A Venti Doppio Espresso, with 20 shots of espresso, 10 pumps of white mocha and 7 pumps of cinnamon dolce, topped with a heavy dollop of whip cream and chocolate drizzle," was, but she doubted it lacked sugar. The espresso alone was enough to put a toddler under cardiac arrest. Whatever Satoru was drinking, it wasn't coffee.

Dunking his fifth packet of sweetener into the mix, Satoru glanced at the woman, fidgeting uncomfortably in her chair, refusing to make eye contact. She wore a lilac blouse tucked neatly inside her patched jeans, the worn out denim thinning white around the kneecaps and bottom hems fraying. Her long hair was plaited in braids crowning her head, revealing the ivory streamline of her neck, enticing his eyes to roam farther south, past the arch of her collarbone. He caught whiff of lilies hiding amidst the roasted coffee beans and felt a tingling in his crotch. Satoru crossed his legs, cursing himself for it. No. He couldn't afford to get carried away. Not here. There'd be time for fun and games later. Right now he had questions in need of answering, if he could just draw them out of her first.

"I don't know how they do things where you're from," he said, stirring in the sweetner with a straw. "But I'm pretty sure it's rude to turn down a fresh cup of coffee when someone else is paying. Starbucks ain't cheap nowadays."

Hannah looked at him and then looked down at the green siren printed on the paper cup in her hands. Satoru was "nice" enough to order her some coffee while simultaneously flirting with the barista like he wasn't a married man and "obliging" Hannah to take a seat near a window, whereupon he shoved the hot drink in her hands. The twin-tailed siren's grin appeared conniving. A sickening feeling roiled in the pit of her stomach. She knew then that this choice in venue wasn't accidental.

Satoru snapped a finger in her face.

"Oi, am I gonna have to force words outta you again like last time?" he said. "Cause you're becoming a real buzzkill, Princess."

Their eyes latched onto each other. Nervously, the Hannah bit her lip and said something too soft for his ears to catch. The Starbucks was in the middle of its morning rush.

"Louder." Her behavior irked him. "Speak up."

A deep breath. "Why did you bring me here?" she asked, peering up at him through wary hazel eyes.

Finally. At least she wasn't stuttering.

"Whatya mean?" Satoru said, feigning ignorance. "Can't a guy treat a girl to some coffee?"

"I don't drink coffee."

"Eh?"

The color in her cheeks flushed a delicate pink as her gaze dropped to her lap submissively. He felt his crotch betray him again. Fuck. Quickly, so as not to arouse suspicion and avoid disaster, Satoru slipped his hands underneath the table and squeezed the inside of his wrist, twisting the skin hard enough to leave a bruise. The tingling petered out.

"I'm sensitive to caffeine," he heard her confess. "It gives me anxiety."

"Oh." Satoru tugged his jacket sleeve down to hide what he'd done, acting like her words hadn't offended him. "Well, in that case, maybe I could use the company." He raised his espresso to his lips and took a sip.

"M-Meaning?"

Uh-oh. There's that stutter again.

"Meaning," Satoru stressed, placing his cup back on the table. "I think it's time we have a good honest chat. You and me. Man to woman."

A student to their right, typing furiously on his laptop, released a dreadful sneeze; a bad omen.

"Sorry," Hannah's brows narrowed. "I'm confused."

"How so?"

She gave him a cynical look. "Weren't you the one who said you wanted nothing to do with me? That you wanted me to stay away? That you didn't give two — '"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'm a prick," whined Satoru, rolling his eyes with a wave of his hand. "Just forget I said any of that crap. I've since changed my mind. I mean, I'm a human being with free will, right? Isn't that something you Christians also believe in? Free will? — Speaking of which, you better not cram any of that Jesus hocus-pocus down my throat like Yaga's friend always does. I'm not looking for a savior, thank you very much."

She winced at "hocus-pocus." Though by no means ashamed of her Christianity, Hannah preferred to live out her faith through the quiet example of Thérèse of Lisieux, rather than the fiery zeal of St. Paul. Religion was a deeply personal thing. It felt like breaking an entry when cramming proselytisms down people's throats. Either way, there'd be no evangelizing on her part. That was already agreed upon in her marriage dispensation from the archbishop.

"I wasn't planning on it," she said dryly.

Satoru looked pleased. "Good." He propped an elbow on the table. "So, what's it like?"

She blinked. "What's what like?"

"You know," he goaded. "The Sight? Being able to see curse attacks before they happen? What's that like?" At this, Hannah said nothing and stared forlornly at the table. Satoru whistled lowly. "That bad, huh?"

The seer nursed the coffee in her hands, sad reflection gazing back at her. "I watch people die when I go to sleep," she murmured. "Of course it's bad."

"How long have you had it, you think?"

She watched the reflection shrug. "Since I was six years old. Maybe five? I can't remember very well. At first, I thought they were just nightmares; mere figments of my imagination." She forced a strained smile. "I wish that were the truth."

"Do you know how it works?"

Hannah shook her head. "Aside from its strange relationship to cursed energy, not really. What I do know is that it's terrible and I wish I never had it." She didn't like where the conversation was headed. "Can we talk about something else…please?"

Satoru felt the awkwardness creep in. This is why he hated small talk. "Listen," he sighed, combing a hand through his hair out of habit. "I imagine this must be rough, being far from home and not having Daddy Warbucks to look after you anymore, but — "

"Lord Thames is not my father," Hannah said at once, a vehemence knifed in her tone.

Satoru's eyes widened, mildly surprised by her little outburst and raised his hands in appeasement, the sarcasm having flown over her head.

"Alright. No need to get pissy. I was only joking." He lowered his hands. "Who the hell is he then?" Unbeknownst to her, Satoru already conducted research on the fat bastard after his trip to England. A company called Thames & Sons, S.E. was the first thing to pop up on his radar. From the onset, it appeared to be a holdings company, primarily in the business of producing and selling luxury goods, including yachts and other seafaring machinery. The company logo was the same heraldic shield he saw bedeck the gilded halls at Wasserton; two sirens on either side, one brandishing a harp, the other a trident. However, Hannah added a new piece of knowledge to the puzzle.

"He's my uncle," she said, her grip tightening around her coffee cup. "Though, I was nothing more than an inconvenience to him, a blight in need of swift removal." Her voice rang hollow. "Like mother, like daughter, I suppose."

At this, the lines on Satoru's face outwardly softened. There was an emotion submerged in his blue eyes Hannah couldn't quite fish out. Like a wave it rippled across the surface and then stilled.

"What happened to her?" he said. "Your mom?"

Hannah remained affixed on him. Best to pull the dagger out, she thought. While she's got him here. The short version will do. For her sake more than anyone's.

"She killed herself." Hannah said it cleanly, her voice flat. "Found her lying face-down in her room one morning, lungs corroded, heart ruptured. They said it was cyanide poisoning. God only knows how she managed to get a substance like that. Probably through one of the servants." She looked away as if ashamed. "My uncle disowned her shortly after I was born, you see. That's what likely drove her to commit suicide. She was barely twenty-two."

Tragic? Yes. Entirely unforeseeable? No.

At this point in history, it was commonly assumed that Thames women were cursed, be it mental illness, abuse, bad luck, or in wake of Hannah's mother, a deadly combination of all three. Shoddy nursery rhymes were even sung about it to scare young girls: "Beware the House of Thames, who hasten maidens to their ends..." If indeed beautiful women lived tragic lives, you'd think the Thames wrote the bloody book. They amassed enough scandals to rival that of the Tudors, making them prone to conspiracies and vulnerable to gossip; Particularly regarding the Countesses of Graivmor, who allegedly existed, but for some peculiar reason were never seen in public, leaving many to speculate there were no countesses and all Thames children were secretly bastards or adopted. Of course if any of these rumors were true, they would fail to explain how the Thames' magic was so excellently preserved. And were it not for this magic, and immense wealth (which was also suspect), the Thames wouldn't receive so much as an invitation to tea. But Hannah, an illegitimate, wasn't to be received anywhere besides the usual calls to morning Mass.

Satoru sat vigil, listening intently to her story. "Why'd your uncle disown her?"

A fragile snort escaped her lips. "Why else? My mother was a peeress under one of the last existing sorcery families in Europe. It's dishonorable for a lady of her rank to bear a child out of wedlock, especially with a non-sorcerer. It also meant she couldn't terminate the pregnancy in case the child wielded magic, which unfortunately didn't happen with me."

Satoru shifted in his seat and without too much forethought said, "Sounds like you regret being born."

Hannah turned to look at him. She'd never voiced the quiet part out loud. The question that'd been haunting her all her life. "I don't think it matters whether I'd been born or not," she said stiffly. "But seeing how my mother is dead, I'll let you be the judge."

The two relapsed into silence, broken only by the sound of construction outside, the chime at the front door alerting staff to new customers. Keyboards. Page turning. Quiet chit-chat.

"Apologies," Satoru said, wondering whether she could tell how much he meant it. "That must've really sucked."

Hannah shrugged her shoulders. "I was a baby. It's not like I knew her."

"What of your old man? What became of him?"

Her taut smile lacked humor. "Abandoned my mother when she became pregnant with me and hightailed it back to New York, so I'm told. On top of an unplanned pregnancy and destitution, my mother also suffered a broken heart." Her eyes appeared distant. "Sad isn't it? When the people who are supposed to love us... don't."

Satoru's expression was unreadable. "Do you know where the deadbeat is now?"

"My father?" she asked. Satoru nodded. "No, and with any luck, it'll stay that way." Her eyes flicked up at him. "What about you?"

He cocked a brow. "What about me?"

She could already hear Fr. O'Malley's voice protesting in her ears, "Don't do it, lass. I'm warning you." She nudged the priest aside. "Well, I never."

"Your parents?" Hannah said, feeling a bit braver. "I figure there's a reason we haven't been introduced?"

She waited for a stretching, agonizing moment, thought for sure she had him, but when Satoru opened his mouth to speak, he unceremoniously clamped it shut and let out an airy chuckle. "Yeah, no. I don't think so. Nice try."

…

…

…

"Sorry. Perhaps, you misunderstood. I'm asking whether I'll get the chance to meet your — "

"I understood you perfectly fine, Princess. You're the one with the hearing problem. Ask me again and see what happens."

"But…" Hannah was honestly quite baffled by this veiled threat. "But I revealed my entire past to you just now. I've never done that with anyone outside of a confessional."

"Okay." Satoru looked as though he could care less. "And?"

She set her jaw, anger rising to her defense. "The least you could do is be polite and reciprocate the sentiment."

Satoru pressed his lips in a hard line. He leaned forward across the table, Six Eyes wildly close, and said. "I know this may come as a bit of a shock, but politeness isn't really my forte. You're free to ask questions, as many as you like, but that doesn't mean I give you an answer. In other words," he switched to English, "you're S.O.L."

S.O.L.

Shit out of luck.

Hannah could no longer feel the coffee in her hands, nor its warmth. Her whole body went numb, as though someone had taken a rusty pair of scissors and snipped off the last shred of hope she'd been clinging on to. "So, let me get this straight," she said, voice even-keel. "You brought me here to this place. Said you wanted to have a 'good honest chat.' I answer your questions honestly and truthfully, yet you refuse to do the same?"

The Six Eyes wielder gasped and struck a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "Hey, now. I'm not being untruthful. I'm simply choosing not to answer. There's a difference."

She breathed through her nose. Her eyes burned, but she dared not blink. "Well, then…that's awfully disingenuous. Thinking you could lead me on like that."

"Oh, cry me a river, sweetheart." Satoru said waspishly. His voice held none of the savage humor from before. "All I did was ask a few questions. I wasn't lawding over you, forcing you to say those things. And I don't have to tell you certain shit if I don't want to, so there." He sneered into his coffee before taking another swig. "Disingenuous."

Wind knocked from her sails and spirits dampened, the seer slumped in her chair, accosted by his harsh reticence. Two steps forward, five steps back. They'd returned to square one. This man was impossible.

"Patience, Hannah," Fr. O'Malley urged. "Patience."

She inhaled deeply, bridling her anger and consternation. "At the very least, will you answer my next question?" she asked. "Truthfully this time?"

His smirk was too handsome and smug for his own good. "Depends on the question, but go ahead."

Swallowing hard, Hannah said, "Why did you consent to the marriage?" She couldn't meet his gaze as she spoke. "You're obviously not interested in a wife, so why take one if it's not what you wanted? You don't have to lie. I can tell you're unhappy."

Satoru clicked his tongue at her bald accusation. Not as unhappy as I should be, he wanted to say, but thought better of it. His Six Eyes scrutinized the little seer for a moment, face impassive, calculating. He stacked both elbows on the table and wove his fingers together.

"Have you ever wondered what it would be like if our world was different?" he said, breaking their short-lived silence. Hannah didn't answer. Satoru inclined his head to look out the window, watching an old woman on a bench scatter sunflower seeds to a flocks of hungry pigeons, commuters walking past her. "I can't speak for The Association, but our higher-ups are trash." He rested a palm to his cheek. "They think because they're older it makes them wiser, but anyone with half a brain could tell you that's a load of horseshit. Those feeble minded idiots don't care how many civilians die, or how many young people they brainwash into becoming martyrs. All while spouting some stupid nonsense about 'world order' and 'tradition.'" He balled his fist. "Pisses me off just thinking about it."

Hannah didn't know what to make of this information. "W-What is it you're implying?" she said tentatively.

His eyes never wavered. Had Hannah been standing upright instead of sitting in a chair, she would've faltered from his glare. "I want to reset this shitty jujutsu world," he stated firmly. "To undo the damage those trash heaps have wrought upon society."

Hannah's heart stopped. She could feel the blood drain from her face. "You want a revolution?"

His eyes were like smoldering blue flames. "I want change," he emphasized, heatedly turning to glare out the window once more. The old lady on the bench was gone. He swished his coffee cup. "The higher-ups are still wallowing in their own shit after what happened in San'ya. I have it on good authority there'll be a 'no-confidence' vote soon."

Hannah gnawed her bottom lip. "Isn't that a good thing?" Satoru's eyes flashed at her. She bowed her head. "I-I mean, based on what you've told me, it sounds like the issue is resolving itself; The current regime will disband and a new one will take its place, so why interfere?"

He sighed loudly at how little she grasped the situation. "Because, Princess, the 'no-confidence' vote is just for show. These idiots aren't serious about issuing a new regime. They'll just reshuffle the same deck of cards over and over again, and if you cry foul or raise a stink, they'll either demote you, or put your head on a chopping block." He slashed a thumb across his neck to mimic a gruesome beheading.

Hannah slid him a caustic glance. "Don't you fear execution?"

Satoru released an incredulous snort, "Hell no. You kidding? I'm the one holding this shit-show together. They can't afford to get rid of me. Not that they could. I'd kill them all before they'd get the chance."

Hannah's throat felt knotted. It was worse than she thought. "Then what's stopping you?" She tried keeping her voice from quivering when his eyes coined into slits. "It's not that I condone mass murder or anything, but if what you say is true, why not set fire to everything and declare yourself king?"

The exorcist helped himself to another swig of coffee, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "King, eh?" he murmured, pausing as if to mull it over with himself. "Nah, I have no intention of becoming anyone's king," he admitted. "Sure, for a while I contemplated killing everybody off and starting over from scratch. Only problem is it would be counterintuitive. You can't demolish an institution if you've got nothing better to replace it with. And it's not like people approve of massacres anyway." He turned to look at her. "Which is why I plan to use a more diplomatic approach." He twirled a long finger at her, smiling at some private joke. "You."

Hannah stared blankly. "Me?"

The sorcerer nodded. "The bargain was simple: I be a good little Boy Scout and get married, thus fulfilling my 'sacred duty' to the clan or whatever, and as my reward, they offer me a teaching position at Jujutsu High. Voila. Easy peasy."

Hannah tilted her head. "A teaching position? You want to be a teacher?"

"Yup," he said in English, punctuating the "p" with his lips. "I plan to rebuild the system from within. That way I can foster the next generation and gain strong, loyal allies in the process." He raised his finger to attention. "Plus, 'Gojo-sensei' has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Admit it, you're impressed by my genius. I knew you would be."

Despite herself, Hannah heaved an inward sigh of relief. "Then a reformation is your goal? Not a revolution?"

He shrugged. "I was kinda going with 'nonviolent coup,' but yeah. Whatever floats your boat."

"And have you revealed this plan to anyone else?"

"Sorta," He examined his fingernails like he'd lost interest. "Though, technically, you're the first."

"And you're able to do this because of the Limitless?"

Six Eyes honed on her like a falcon about to swoop in on its prey. Her heart ratcheted. His shift from carefree to serious frightened her. The man who saved her life was nowhere to be found. No, this man was formidable. This man was dangerous.

"You know about that?" he said cooly, the fire in his eyes now a glacial frost. He was a remarkable contradiction; both fire and ice.

Hannah shivered. "I know of it, yes," she conceded. "But Fr. O'Malley didn't elaborate."

"Yeah, I bet he didn't." The sorcerer's mouth started to quirk upwards. "Just as well. It's better to show in person anyway. Here…" He spread his left palm out as if to give her a high-five, but in the midst of unfurling his hand Hannah gripped the table and flinched, afraid he might do something regrettable. Satoru's face twisted into a scowl. "Chill. I'm not gonna hurt you. Now, be a nice girl and place your hand on mine, okay?"

Hannah froze. "W-What?"

Satoru bore a wide smirk.

"Oh, you heard me, Princess." He wiggled his fingers suggestively. "Come on. Don't be shy. Promise I won't bite."

She didn't budge. "You actually want me to…"

He rolled his eyes dramatically, "Why do women have to be so stubborn all the time? Hurry up, will ya? My hand's getting tired."

Hannah swallowed the huge lump stuck in her throat and hesitantly, with shaky hands, she lifted her left palm to his as instructed. Closer and closer she crept, nearly making it, could practically feel it, but instead of touching callused skin like she anticipated, her forearm went no further, halted by an invisible wall keeping their hands squarely apart.

What on earth? She commanded her hand forward. Nothing. Not an inch more.

"Surprised?" spoke Satoru, amused by her trial and error. "Don't be. What you're witnessing is no trick. This is the resting state of the Limitless; Infinity."

"Infinity?" she repeated, remembering Fr. O'Malley had used the term once in Principle Yaga's office.

He nodded, gossamer bangs over his eyes. "With this curse technique, I'm able to manipulate the flow of space and time at will, making the theoretical concept of 'Infinity' fully realized. You can try all you want, but so long as this technique remains active, your hand will never reach mine."

Hannah was deeply troubled by this. "I'm not sure I follow," she said. "It's a force field of some kind?"

"Hmm, not quite. You familiar with Achilles and the Tortoise?"

"Zeno's Paradox, you mean?"

…

Okay.

He wasn't expecting her to know that.

Kudos to her.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Well, that's basically what's going on here." He pointed to his open hand. "In retrospect, I'm breaking down motion so acutely to the point it's stopped in toto, or at least it appears that way."

"I see," replied Hannah, still piecing it together. "But Fr. O'Malley said the Limitless gave you the ability to repel and attract? He mentioned nothing of stopping."

"Oh?" Satoru's grin turned Machievellian. "You mean this?"

The invisible gulf between their hands suddenly widened. Hannah could do nothing but watch as her palm was gently "pushed" back to her shoulder, fully outstretched. A red aura haloed around her arm.

"Reversal…"

Then Hannah's hand was returned to his as if pulled by threads, her fingers barely touching the pads of his fingertips. Her pulse ran rampant in her chest, anxious by their close proximity and the blueness of his eyes concentrated solely on her. The red aura became a deep azure.

"Attraction," he purred.

She heard her breath gasp. In the course of a single heartbeat, their fingertips at last met each other, then their palms, and then finally his fingers began to slip teasingly between her own, pinching the skin where their wedding rings collided. His hand felt massive, rough calluses and scar tissue grazing against her flesh, eliciting the hairs on her forearm to raise approvingly. He chuckled at the rosy hue dappling her cheeks.

A rush of excitement coursed through him at how easy she was to seduce. He didn't impede the tingling in his crotch this time, but rather kept it at bay, wondering how much longer would it be until she was in his bed, naked, writhing, pleading for him to make her his. He'd give her a solid week, tops. "See? Told you I don't bite," he said flirtatiously, his voice velvet smooth, stroking his thumb atop their clasped knuckles for extra measure.

Meanwhile the blood in Hannah's veins felt as though it were boiling inside a kettle. His hold was gentle yet firm and she'd be lying if she said she didn't like it; Lucifer and his dashing good looks. She couldn't bring herself to let go, so she went for a diversion. "I h-haven't thanked you for saving my life," she squeaked, wishing she had a fan to cool herself, or a block of ice to press to her cheeks.

This must've been the last thing Satoru expected her to say because the tips of his ears also warmed a faint pink. "Whatever, don't mention it," he said, quickly looking away, hubris forgotten. "No big deal."

He released her hand.

But Hannah was adamant. "I'm serious. If you hadn't arrived when you did I would've been — "

"You would've been curse meat," he snorted. "Like I said, it's no big deal." He didn't think she'd thank him. Few people did.

"Only it is a big deal." She reached across the table and grabbed hold of his hand, feeling the muscles tense underneath. "Please, Fr. O'Malley said you'd retrieve the Sukuna fingers for us. I may not be a sorcerer, nor the wife you wanted — In fact, I'd go so far as to say there's nothing extraordinary about me at all — but for once in my life I could save people. Actually save people instead of watching them suffer and die. I can't tell you how that makes me feel, I..." She stopped herself short, fearing she'd taken it a bridge too far, her cheeks blazing. "Anyway, I'm glad you changed your mind. Truly."

Satoru's mouth thinned, not impressed, not underwhelmed.

"That's cute, Princess. I'm touched." He deftly slid his hand from under hers to pour a sixth packet of sugar into his half-empty drink. "However, there's something you should know. While I'd love to say I agreed to help outta the kindness of my own heart, I very much adhere to the philosophy, 'you scratch my back, I scratch yours.' That being said, what will you give me in return to sweeten the deal?"

"You get an ally." For all her shyness, for all her foibles, the rebuttal was immediate. "A loyal one. I can't say whether I agree with your coup, but if it means you'll help me find the Sukuna fingers, then I'll support you in your mission. That's something you said you wanted, right? Loyal allies?"

The sorcerer pretended to weigh his options, rubbing his chin. "Hmm. My help in exchange for your unwavering loyalty." He was messing with her really, having made his decision last night outside that bathhouse, ogling her naked body like an old lech. He clapped his hands together. "Alrighty then, I'll agree to your terms. On one other condition."

Hannah beamed. "Of course. Anything."

He internally grimaced. Her enthusiasm reminded him of a puppy, naive and trusting. She shouldn't be so quick to make promises like that, proof she was inexperienced and easy to take advantage of. That needed to be corrected. Asap.

"You learn how to fight."

He watched her elation flatten into sheer disappointment. "But I can't control cursed energy."

Satoru had to bite down a laugh. "Who said anything about cursed energy? I know brats half your age who can fight plenty without it. I don't care whether you're a non-sorcerer, or what level that curse was. You gave up the second it had its greasy paws. I'll see to it personally that doesn't happen again. You may be weak, but that's not an excuse to forfeit your life like that. Capeesh?"

The hint wasn't lost on her. I'll see to it personally.

"You'll be my instructor?" she asked.

"Why not?" he replied, shrugging. "How else am I to teach a couple of angsty teenagers, if I can't teach a smallfry like you how to defend herself? So, there. Congrats. Try not to let it go to your — Huh? What the heck is this?"

Hannah was holding some kind of twig out to him.

"It's for you." She presented it with both hands. "It's part of an olive branch."

Satoru blinked. Where the hell did she find an olive tree in the middle of frickin' Tokyo? They primarily grew in Shodoshima where it was drier.

"Right," he said unsuredly. "Uh, am I supposed to do something with it?" He silently prayed she wasn't encouraging him to eat this thing. It did not look yummy.

"Extending an olive branch symbolizes peace and new beginnings." She nervously tucked a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "I was hoping we could start over…if that's alright with you?"

Following her escape from Jujutsu High, and a stern talking to from Principle Yaga that she was to stay on campus at all times (Mr. Ijichi bore the brunt of Yaga's ire), Hannah changed into suitable clothing and went into the greenhouse in search of garden shears, where she noticed a young olive tree rooted in a pot. Either someone placed it there that morning, or she hadn't been paying close attention, but after finding the garden shears, she clipped off a sample and gingerly placed it in her pocket for safekeeping, planning to gift it to Satoru when the opportunity arose, which came sooner rather than later.

Fascinated, Satoru plucked the little sprig from her hold and lifted it towards the Starbucks window, examining its waxy oblong leaves and cellulosic properties. He noted the color was similar to the green in her eyes and he could smell its smoky perfume wafting from the tiny branches. Hannah interpreted this as a good sign and offered him her hand in friendship.

"I'm Hannah," she said with a timid smile. "Hannah Thames - er - was Hannah Thames, but you already knew that."

A perfectly cordial introduction.

Honestly speaking, she was prettier when she wasn't sad.

Satoru stared at her proffered greeting, peered into her eyes, testing to make sure it was safe, then enclosed his palm around her's without teasing.

"Satoru," he replied, shaking her hand. She reminded him of a doll. A little hina doll. Too forceful and she'd snap in two. "By the way," he added, "You might want to start packing your stuff when we get back."

Her brows rushed downward. "How come?"

Ooo, she's gonna love this.

"There's been a slight hick-up," Satoru said. "After Wednesday night's fiasco, the powers that be no longer think it safe for you to reside in the dormitories. I told them no, but they wouldn't listen. So it looks like you're moving in with me at the earliest convenience." His voice lowered. "Oh yes, we're gonna get nice and cozy with each other, aren't we, Princess?"

Hannah gulped.

New beginnings, indeed.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

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