Chapter 18: Fighting the Inevitable
Satoru was the one who suggested they attend a baseball game together. "Things have gotten pretty shitty around here," were his exact words. "And I want a reason to make Utahime jealous." Hannah was in no position to refuse. It was indeed a dark time for Japan. The theater had left a terrible gloom over the country. Sixteen days since the "terrorist bombing" and the public still did not know the truth behind the attack, believing Aum Shinrikyo responsible. Unreal, they thought. The mysterious disappearances of children, gas leaks blowing up schools, and now this? A terrorist attack leaving more than 600 dead. Holy crap, what was this world coming to?
So then. How did Tokyo remedy this depressing gloom, you might ask? Well, they sat down to enjoy a baseball game. That's what. Yeah, show those terrorist devils that their doomsday plan was a failure. That they couldn't upend this country's way of life no matter how hard they tried. Sports offered a way back to normalcy, to heal. And what better way to heal other than baseball?
No, that was not hyperbole.
Other than the matsuri festivals celebrated at the end of the year, seldom was it socially acceptable for people to let their hair down and unwind from the eighty hour workweek and strict school system. So for many Japanese diehards, baseball was its own religion, its own art form, a means of escape where the impossible became possible and dreams of the most remarkable kind came true. Hard work. Perseverance. Athletic excellence. The team sport affectionately dubbed "America's national pastime" could just as easily be "Japan's national pastime." There was no modern sport Japan loved and revered more than baseball. They practically lived and breathed it. Even football, the most popular sport on earth, couldn't vie for Japan's heart. This was bēsubōru country, baby, take your checkered soccer balls and kick them somewhere else.
Satoru had opted they go to a day game. The Yomiuri Giants were playing against the Hanshin Tigers, their arch rivals, and as expected the Dome was seated to the brim. Shaped like a humongous egg, Tokyo Dome could house well over 45,000, but the attendance that afternoon felt innumerous, as if the entire city, baseball and non-baseball fans alike, had taken off work to witness the spectacle.
Rival fans uniformed in either Yomiuri orange or Hanshin black and yellow waited behind concession stands, peddling headbands (hachimaki), baseball caps, colorful frying pans, drumsticks, and various other noisemakers. Cheerleaders and mascots danced their routines, waving to the crowd from the field as young "beer girls" in highlighter-yellow uniforms walked up and down the stadium aisles, carrying pony kegs on their backs to serve cold beer to the masses.
Hannah noticed then that she wasn't wearing Tigers or Giants gear like the rest. Instead, Satoru had lent her one of his jerseys. Emblazoned in all caps on the front was the bold word "SEATTLE" with the eye of a compass centered in front of the "S," which felt odd because Seattle was an American city. Was there a Japanese Seattle she didn't know about? The player on the back read "ICHIRO 51." and the fit was five sizes too big. She had to button it up to keep it from sliding off her shoulders.
Looking out at the field, Satoru had bought them good seats; not too high up, but not too close so Hannah could capture everything. They were sitting on the Tigers' side. She took a bite out of her enormous hotdog that could easily feed two people and glanced at her husband sitting adjacent, sipping his soda through a straw, dark glasses hiding his eyes as he observed the buzzing atmosphere below. He had his baseball cap on backwards, monickering the Japanese flag.
Evidently, they were both pacifists at this game. Like her, Satoru had chosen not to wear Giants or Tigers gear, nor a Seattle jersey. Rather, his uniform showed two red birds perched on a baseball bat. "St. Louis Cardinals" stitched in retro cursive on the front with a patch on the sleeve cap stamped "2006 World Series Champions." Her eyes landed on the name lettered on the back in cardinalate red. "TAGUCHI 99."
"I watched Taguchi Sō play during the 2006 World Series as a teen," Satoru said, catching her snooping as he slurped his soda. "Not many Japanese players make it to the MLB. Much less, the World Series. But the man did it twice. He's the first Japanese to nab two World Series rings before retiring from the Majors. An absolute legend."
Hannah swallowed her mouthful of hotdog, listening intently. "Does that make him your favorite player then?"
Satoru grinned. "Nah, I don't have a favorite player," he chuckled. "Keeps things interesting that way."
The game was already in full swing by that point and had transitioned to the top of the third. The two teams remained scoreless. Hannah watched as the Giants pitcher stood on the mound, got in his stance, and fully rotate his arm in spectacular motion to deliver his throw, a nasty two-seam fastball clocked at 92 mph, but the Tigers hitter standing in the "batter's box" had a good eye and swung his wooden bat — CRACK! — thus making solid contact. And like a shooting star the baseball ricocheted off the slender wooden stick and took flight, soaring higher and higher, beyond the left outfielder's bandwidth. Now positively electric, half the stadium rose from their seats, thinking it would stay fair, but alas. The buffering wind veered the baseball away from the foul pole and sent it plummeting to the stands. A very distinct groan could be heard throughout the stadium as the Tigers hitter jogged from first base back to home, shaking his head in frustration. It's not a home run, but a foul ball.
Hannah blinked, not having a clue what just happened and swallowed another biteful of hotdog.
"Honestly, I thought it would be more like cricket."
Drinking his soda, Satoru froze mid-slurp to give her a blank stare. "You do realize you've just insulted both cricket and baseball fans with that one sentence, right?"
Ah yes, that was another fundamental Hannah quickly learned. Baseball was not cricket, and cricket was not baseball. They were totally different sports and no fan dared commit sacrilege by conflating the two. However they were both admittedly complex, yet Satoru had done a good job giving her play-by-play as the game went on, making sure he covered all the basics. If she understood him correctly, the rules of baseball were as follows:
Baseball is a game played between two teams, whose goal it is to score more "runs" (points) than the other. After nine "innings" where each team has gotten nine chances to score runs, the team with the most points wins. If the score is tied, the game goes into extra innings. Now, in order to score a run, an offensive player must put the baseball in play by hitting it with a wooden bat; either with a full body swing, or holding the bat horizontally over "home plate" to tap the baseball gently which is called a bunt. If the hitter is successful and manages to hit the baseball and it stays fair, then he must run around and step on the three "bases" (cushions/also called the "(bags") that are evenly spaced like a diamond as fast as he can before running across home to score one run. If the hitter misses the oncoming "pitch" (throw), or he does not swing and the baseball is caught within the "strike zone" then it is labeled a strike against him. Alternatively, if he does not swing and the baseball is caught outside the strike zone, then it is labeled a ball. If a hitter gets three strikes, he is out. But if the hitter gets four balls before he gets three strikes, he is automatically awarded first base. If the batter hits the baseball, but it is caught midair by an opposing player on the field, then the batter is also out. Additionally, if the hitter is running around the bases and an opposing player "tags" him with the baseball in his glove (there are nine opposing players on a field), or steps on the base with the baseball in his glove…
You get the gist.
As one might imagine, baseball could be very confusing. There were a lot of rules involved. That's why it was advised to watch the sport in person. And while she was intimidated by it then, Hannah would eventually fall head over heels in love with baseball that season. In fact, nine times out of ten, the Gojo's future date nights would be spent eating fried foods at baseball games and cheering on Hannah's beloved Seibu Lions down at Belluna Stadium. And for their third wedding anniversary Satoru would fly them out to Los Angeles to watch Team Japan take on Team USA in the 2017 Baseball World Classic semifinals. Japan would not advance, sadly, nor retake the championship title for another six years, but Hannah would be cheering passionately throughout the entire game, start to finish; Scoffing when the umpires made the wrong call and leaping for joy when Kikuchi Ryosuke homered in the bottom of the sixth. But as of now, Hannah was a beginner, trying to learn the nuances between a "splitter" and a "cutter." So far, the pitches looked identical.
For the rest of the game the foreign wife continued observing and listening. She had memorized the chants the fans were clapping to and liked the taiko drums and brass trumpets blaring from somewhere out in the stands. However, she still struggled to know when the baseball was fair and when it was foul. Satoru would lean along his armrest to explain. She could tell he was enjoying himself as his breath tickled her skin.
"See the white lines on either side of the baseball diamond, leading up to the foul poles?" Hannah saw the chalked white lines he was referring to and nodded. "The baseball is fair if it stays within those two lines. Anywhere else, it's foul."
"Except when it passes over third or first base?"
"Yeah, now you're getting it," he nudged her affectionately with his elbow, "You're catchin' on quick, Princess. Soon you'll be calling balls and strikes."
Hannah smiled proudly at his praise and broke into jubilant applause as the Tigers hitter from earlier successfully hit the oncoming pitch yet again. This time the baseball was a line drive out to right field, staying fair. Her eyes followed the Tigers player as he raced around the diamond, stopping at third base before the Giants' baseman could tag him out. He's safe, it's a triple. The crowd yelled and cheered. Then the second hitter in the Tigers' lineup stepped inside the batter's box, looking to bring his teammate home from third. Their momentum would carry on for the remainder of the game.
By the end of nine innings, the Hanshin Tigers would defeat the fan favorite Yomiuri Giants: 6 - 2
…
After their baseball extravaganza, there was still quite a bit of daylight left and most venues were open. Satoru and Hannah decided to explore the area, and of course this meant visiting a garden. Koishikawa Kōraku-en (Garden for Taking Pleasure Later) was conveniently situated right next to the Dome. It would've been a cryin' shame not to go.
Hannah was practically bouncing with excitement. Kōraku-en was one of the three most treasured gardens of Japan. What made it unique to the other two, however, was the blended harmony of Japanese and Chinese elements, which was inspired by a famous poem where the emperor could only rest easy once his people were taken care of; hence the garden for "taking pleasure later." In the early weeks of spring it was a popular destination to photograph the pink sakura blossoms, and then the vibrant red maple and golden ginkgo leaves come autumn. Like the Gojo's garden back home, Kōraku-en was centered around a resplendent lake with ducks and koi fish. Satoru and Hannah walked along the large moss-covered rocks and stepping stones, listening to the gentle waterfalls scattered here and there. The fiery azaleas bushes and hanging wisteria were still in bloom. With no June rain to sabotage the mood, walking the pathways made for a lovely summer stroll, and since it was a weekday, the crowds weren't as heavy. They could hear the birds chirping way up in the trees, blocking out the car horns and sirens of Tokyo. The city felt as though it were miles away.
An hour later, Satoru and Hannah left the garden and stopped near a fancy looking vending machine to grab a quick treat, which was yet another quirk about Japan: The various kinds of vending machines. Want a healthy banana to snack on? There's a vending machine for that. Need an umbrella on a rainy day? There's a vending machine for that. Forgot to bring tampons with you to work? Yup, there's a vending machine for that too. The Japanese were nothing if not resourceful.
Satoru's vending unit of choice was the much beloved Okashi Gaku's "Cake in a Can."
The plastic canisters were see-through, but Hannah couldn't make up her mind on what flavor she wanted, so she allowed her husband to pick for her. She watched him swiftly dial the keypad, numbers 1 and 4, and pay for the cakes with his IC card he used for boarding the metro. Like a soda dispenser, two cans dropped to the bottom. Her husband bent down to retrieve them and handed her the pink one. "Almond Cherry Blossom" it read, while Satoru selected "Chocolate Sponge with Strawberries" for himself.
"Cheers," he sang, holding up his plastic can. Hannah let out a small giggle and clanged her cake can to his.
"Cheers," she responded back, and not forgetting her manners added a small, "Itadakimasu."
They peeled back the aluminum lids simultaneously. Satoru didn't waste time unwrapping his plastic spoon and dug in, but Hannah paused for a moment to examine the novelty confection. She gently poked the strawberry chips at the top and spooned out a dollop of white cream. She then brought it to her lips, taking her first bite.
"So?" she heard Satoru say. He had already finished half his can. "What do you think?"
Hannah chewed the melted strawberry chips. The first layer of cream was actually mochi mixed with red bean paste, giving it a truly Japanese flavor and on the sides were jellied sakura blossoms made of kanten. The almond cake wasn't too sweet, nor too rich. Exactly how she liked it. Delicious! Hannah gave a hum of approval, which enticed Satoru to coast over.
"I wanna taste."
And that's when things took a dramatic turn.
Every ligament in Hannah's body came to a screeching halt as her husband leaned over and took a huge, relishing bite of the pre-scooped cake on her spoon. The very same spoon she had also used. He closed his mouth and withdrew the plastic between his lips slowly. Too slowly. Her heart seemed to skitter. No hesitation, he had eaten off her spoon. Gojo Satoru had just eaten off her spoon. Her. Plastic. Spoon. Did that imply, oh God, have they quite possibly shared…
…an indirect kiss?
"Meh, it's alright I guess," Satoru said, licking the cream off his lips, as though everything was normal. "Could use more mochi."
She couldn't believe it. The Japanese were known for being absurdly polite. They were soft spoken. Reserved. Perhaps a bit shy like herself and conscientious of how their peers perceived them when not inebriated or cheering at a baseball game. Individuality was often frowned upon. They even had a saying for it: 'The nail that sticks out gets hammered down.' But Satoru? Satoru was a huge stubborn nail that refused to yield. He carried none of those polite mannerisms, tending to voice the quiet parts out loud. If he didn't like you, he said so. If you were looking for his honest opinion, he gave it to you. Brash. Chatty. Arrogant. He was also teasingly sarcastic and coquettish, making it hard for Hannah to know when he was flirting and when he was being his generic obtuse self. Wait, is that what was happening? she thought. Was he flirting with her?
She couldn't help but notice how people, especially women, young and old, blushed when they passed them by on the street, whispering to their friends and giggling. Hannah knew what had them talking. How did a foreigner like her end up with a guy like that? Yes, even with the dark frames covering his eyes, Satoru was strikingly handsome in every breadth of the word. Snow white hair, turquoise blue eyes, and sculpted tall body, he was a magnet for attention.
Earlier when they were leaving the stadium, Hannah watched him stretch out, and as he raised his arms, his baseball jersey rolled up and her eyes focused on the deep grooves chiseled along his hip bones, the muscled abdominals, a happy trail of white hair lining down his naval, before he lowered his arms and the jersey fell back into place. Good lord. Her heart ratcheted in her ears and there was no avoiding the tingling sensation that ran along her scalp, down her neck, and around to the front. A strange warmth she couldn't adequately describe pooled between her thighs, thrumming. She clenched her legs together and tried suppressing the horrendous flush from creeping up her cheeks, praying he didn't notice. Merely thinking about it had her blushing again.
Much about their argument whilst inside the Domain had gone unsaid. Her virginity rang out like a distress signal. It still had her reeling, knowing he knew what she looked like without her clothes on. But if he had done it more than once, it meant he liked what he saw, no? Isn't that what she wanted? They were bound to talk about it sooner or later. You're not a little girl anymore, Hannah. You're married. Yet the bride felt there had been a glitch. Like some sort of hidden communication was going on between them that her grasp of the Japanese language, or any language, couldn't translate.
"Yum, that really hit the spot," Satoru said, eating the last of his chocolate strawberry cake. "Want me to finish yours?"
Hannah, suddenly not making eye contact, shoved the sakura cake can in his lap. He swiped it gleefully, but noted her odd behavior.
"You okay, Princess? Is something the matter?"
"N-No, nothing is the matter."
"You sure? Your face is all splotchy. Could you be having an allergic reaction?"
"I promise you, I'm fine."
Unconvinced, Satoru grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around, her cheeks like cherry tomatoes. Hannah forced herself not to squirm as he brought the back of his hand up to her forehead.
"Hmm. It doesn't feel like you have a fever," he said, moving his back hand from her forehead down to her burning cheek. "Maybe you need to drink more fluids."
More fluids. Right. Not the hormonal fluids swimming through her bloodstream. Nope. Definitely not those.
Hannah coughed and turned aside, encouraging him to let go, and quickly got to her feet, relieving the queasiness building in her stomach. "Really, I'm fine," she wiped the sweat off her palms, "So, where to next?"
Satoru threw their empty cake cans away in the nearest recycling bin. He checked the time on his phone, 4:47 PM, nodded, and started walking towards an unknown destination. Hannah followed his lead and after a few short blocks realized he was guiding her towards the gate entrance of an amusement park. But right as they crossed the gates he turned himself around, slipped her a devilish wink that said "I'm up to no good," and suavely, effortlessly, wove his calloused fingers with hers and clasped them together.
He brought her inside the park, holding her hand.
...
It was easy for the average person to forget how big Tokyo was. How big exactly? Well, big enough to fit a grand total of 23 amusement parks. That's how big.
Satoru waited with Hannah as they stood in line for the Ferris wheel. Phase 1 and 2 of Operation: "Make Sure Wife Had Fun" had been a smashing success. He had taken the day off for it: No missions. No annoying higher-ups to play stupid politics with. No official documents to fill out. He had enjoyed a long overdue break. Finally! Now on to Phase 3.
They hadn't changed out of their baseball attire. Hannah rarely wore her hair down, but today it was half-tied in a lavender ribbon. He had been enamored all day watching the glossy auburn locks swish around her waistline, brown, gold, and red. His Suzuki Ichiro jersey was way too large for her, but something inside him liked that. Looked a million times better on her than it ever did on him. Best of all, Hannah had smiled more in the last seven hours than she had in the three months they had known each other. And boy, did she have a beautiful smile. Absolutely radiant. The kind that could light up a whole room and make a grown man's heart jolt into a full-on sprint. Verdant brown eyes. Petal soft lips. Those cute freckles dotting her nose. That ass in those jeans. Ugh, it just wasn't fair.
This is my…friend I was talking to you about.
Friend. A ripple of embarrassment shot through him at the memory, his pride feeling as though it were torn to shreds. He hadn't forgotten the fact he'd been flatly friendzoned, and knowing he had made her cry because he chose to think with his dick and not his brain made the feeling worse. It was his fault. That's really what this day was for. Satoru was going to make it up to her. Properly. He only hoped she wouldn't reject his advances.
The Six Eyes wielder had been more, how would he put it, handsy than normal. (No, not that kind of handsy. Get your mind out of the gutter). More straightforward. Bolder. Testing to see how far she'd let him push the envelope before growing uncomfortable; touching her, giving sidelong glances, feigning ignorance, etc. He thought eating off her spoon made it blatantly obvious. Best piece of cake he'd ever had by the way, and her reaction had been adorable. Baby steps, Satoru. You can do this. Let her set the tone.
Hannah had made a hard pass on the roller coaster, but Satoru was able to persuade her into riding the log flume with him - she enjoyed that part - and more than once she let him snap a pic of her as they explored the park, choosing which attraction to ride next. They rested for a quick dinner and decided on a shooting gallery ride called "Gan Gun BATTLERS" where they wore 3D glasses while sitting on animatronic chairs, shooting various targets with ray guns. Satoru was especially proficient on that ride. The couple rode other stuff, but Hannah did not enjoy the haunted house one bit, and as Satoru expected she gripped the back of his jersey and kept her eyes closed the entire trek. He thought the special effects were rather lame, but liked her clinging to him, wanting his protection, so that was a win, right?
Their final ride for the evening was the huge Ferris wheel named "The Big-O" due to its centerless frame, an engineering feat at the time it was built. However, Satoru had other things on his mind than gigantic rotating wheels. For much of the day, he had been brushing his fingertips against hers in an effort to hook a finger and hold her hand. In theory they had already held hands before inside the Domain, but she had been too scared for it to hold any meaning. He had succeeded when they arrived. He kept trying to push his luck again as they waited in line. Everytime their fingers touched, his eyes would flick back to check her reaction. She refused to look at him, blushing, her cheeks tinted a pretty pink. So cute.
By the time they stood at the front of the line, his hand was prying apart her hina doll fingers to slide them through the openings. Her palm was soft. He worried he would scratch her with his calluses.
She hadn't pulled away.
So neither did he.
Phase 3 was lookin' good. Gojo-1, you're clear for takeoff.
The attendant waved them inside the glass caged gondola and they cozied up next to each other, still holding hands. A couple seconds later, the attendant gave the thumbs up, and the ride cranked and whirred, slowly lifting the gondola forward away from the ground. Too cramped to fit his 6'2 height, Satoru crossed his legs along the empty seats. Hannah admonished him for it. "That's not safe," but he wasn't concerned. The Ferris wheel could break down and collapse on top of them and he could walk out of there, carefree, with his hands behind his head.
The sun dipped below the horizon, transforming day into night. The gondola kept rising higher and higher till they reached the very top. They could see inside the Tokyo Dome and the roof of LaQua spa. Screams and laughter could be heard as people riding the roller coaster roared past them. The inside of the gondola was equipped with a karaoke machine. Anxious by their proximity and the fact they were too high up to go anywhere, Hannah scrolled through the digitalized playlist, pretending to be busy while averting eye contact, which greatly amused Satoru. Note that she had not let go of his hand. He peered out the glass window at the city, mouth curving into a frown. Damn. It needed to be higher. Then his eyes caught the peak of Tokyo Tower blinking miles away in the distance. Aha, now that's more like it.
Barely a second ticked by for the Six Eyes wielder to unclasp Hannah's hand and pull her close, the momentum bringing her flush against his chest.
"Oof. Satoru, what in — "
"Fasten your seatbelts, ladies and gents. We're going places."
"Places? L-Like where?"
"You'll see," he said, circling his arms around her. "Hope you're not afraid of heights."
That was all the warning she got. The Jujutsu sorcerer kicked open the gondola's door, setting off the safety alarm, and in a heartbeat the Ferris wheel and amusement park became a blurring rush. Time and space sped rabidly, but it wasn't nauseating like a carnival ride. Hannah instead felt weightless as though she were floating in a vacuum, until the cold, biting wind assailed her. They weren't moving anymore. Satoru had warped them outside someplace, but where? Hannah blinked her eyes.
The married couple stared at each other for a fleeting moment, turquoise blue colliding with moss brown, before both of them diverted their gazes, and that's when Hannah looked down and saw there wasn't a floor. Or even the ground.
They were high up. Waayy high up.
Like three hundred meters high up.
With nothing underneath to catch them.
The panic was immediate. Satoru had his forearm wrapped around her lower back, keeping her aloft so that she could stand on his toes, but Hannah grabbed onto his torso as though she were a koala bear hugging a tree, afraid they would fall.
"Where the blazes are we?!" she cried.
She could hear the shrug in his voice. "Tokyo Tower."
"What?!"
"I took us to the top of Tokyo Tower."
Hannah's eyes saw the red and white latticed steel, illuminated in lights like the Eiffel, the same tower that was once the tallest structure in the world. Satoru wasn't kidding. They really were at the top. The tippy top. He could've chosen to warp them inside the observation deck, but no. The more she looked down, the more Hannah thought her stomach would cave in on itself and forfeit her dinner. Her vision swayed.
"Satoru, I-I want down!" she whimpered.
"You're perfectly safe, Hannah. I'm not gonna drop ya."
"Get me DOWN!" she cried harder, tears ready to fall. Hannah rarely raised her voice, but her tone was obstinate. She didn't care that he was the strongest. She wanted down that very instant.
Meanwhile Satoru was at a loss. He had meant the acrophobia comment as a joke. She had no issues riding the Ferris wheel, so he figured why not take his chances; Go big, or go home as they say. He hadn't expected this to be her reaction (though looking back on it he probably should have). If he wanted to pull off Phase 3, he was going to have to redirect her fear.
Knowing she couldn't escape or risk falling to her death, Hannah buried her face into her husband's chest. It was getting cold, the breeze whipping all around them, her hair flying everywhere. She shivered and huddled closer to him for warmth.
Now on any given day Satoru would be over the moon for receiving a hug from Hannah, but there were two issues: One, she was terrified (and maybe a little angry with him). And two, her nipples had hardened from the night chill and were pressing into his chest through the baseball jersey, which had him visualizing other…things. Like those same pretty pink buds rubbing between his fingers and melting in his — Anyway, why did he bring her up here again? Oh, yeah. That's right.
"Hannah." He cradled her buried cheek and gingerly turned it to one side. "Look."
Hanging onto him like her life depended on it, Hannah drew the courage to pull away from his shirt and open her eyes.
Her mouth parted.
More than three hundred meters below, the city had become a glittering firework. They could see everything, every street corner and alleyway; The trains, the humongous JumboTrons, the white and yellow taxis, skyscrapers looking like Lego pieces, the Sumida-gawa river slicing the capitol in half. They could see Tokyo Dome and the amusement park; The bright red Buddhist temple Sensō-ji in honor of Kannon, the goddess of mercy, next to the Shinto shrine Asakusa-jinja, and Niju Bridge meant for leading guests towards the Imperial Palace with Mount Fuji's grandeur overseeing all. So much music and noise and color. This was what he wanted to show her.
"Wow," she whispered, no longer worried about the height. "It's beautiful."
"Yeah," Satoru answered, but he wasn't looking at the view. "It is."
The ribbon that had tied back Hannah's hair had unraveled, leaving the auburn tresses to blow where they may. The wind brought her scent to him. Lilies after a spring rain. He could see the green in her hazel eyes, transfixed by all the noise and color, the soft pillows of her lips filling him with unexplained longing. More beautiful than any person had permission to be.
Man, he had it bad.
Satoru had always prided himself on not taking anything, or anyone, too seriously. Then life threw him a wicked curveball he couldn't avoid. Not that he'd want to avoid Hannah. She was like warm sunshine in this dark, twisted world. She cared about him in ways no one else had since high school and she didn't treat him like an alien from a different planet. She was kind and courageous and beautiful, and so, so smart. For heaven's sake, she knew how to milk a cow and spoke multiple languages. Three whole months he'd been holding back on her. This woman who he purchased for four and a half billion yen, yet whose value was beyond price. He couldn't recall the partners who came before. They were nothing more than bodies and faces and hands. The stars, the moon, the sky; they had nothing on this sweetheart in his arms.
He could already hear his subconscious mind warning him to take heed: "She is to be your companion in happiness and enjoyment, but not your companion in the next world." "She is to be your companion in eating and drinking, but not your companion in experiencing the ripening of actions." "She is to be your companion in pleasure, but not your companion in suffering." Imperfect. Unreliable. Temporary. That is how a husband on the Path should view his wife. He'd have to let her go one day, whether it be eighty years, twenty years, or tomorrow. Getting attached would make things worse, but fuck it. That ship had already sailed. It was too late to turn back now.
Cause I don't want to be your friend.
When Gojo Satoru was born, it was said that the balance of the world shifted, birthing the dawn of a new shining era, the likes of which no one could've imagined.
When Gojo Satoru fused Red and Blue to make Hollow Purple, there was nothing in existence strong enough to defeat him. He was invincible. The greatest. History in the making.
But when Gojo Satoru fell in love for the first time, both body and soul, that new shining universe, that invincibility, changed. You couldn't hear it. It didn't make a sound: The sky didn't fall. The ocean didn't dry up. The earth didn't quake. A world record wasn't broken. All it took was one glance, one touch, and suddenly life would never be the same. He had found a weakness, forever woven into the fabric of his heart. Resistance was futile.
Not wanting to fight the inevitable any longer, Gojo Satoru tilted his wife's chin. Brushed back her long auburn hair. Closed his eyes.
And pressed his lips to hers.
AUTHOR'S NOTES
For this chapter's notes, please visit AO3 (Same name).
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