She felt pathetic, having marred Nanami's pristine shirt with her mix of snot and tears. The leakage seemed to finally subside though. Still without uttering a word, Nanami extended a white handkerchief towards her, his gaze stoically fixed on the night ahead.
"Thank you." Utahime used the fragrant fabric to dry her eyes, then turned her head to the side to discreetly blow her nose.
The low car with its comfortable seats had folded like a protective cocoon around them, but she felt far from safe. Her eyes kept searching out the nondescript exit through which she had been ushered by the quiet orderly. A feeble, flickering light cast a dim glow over the nondescript metal door. All was silent. But for how much longer? A vivid image of the Hei storming out, swords drawn and thirsting for blood, flashed before her mind's eye. The faster she got away from here the better.
Nanami started the engine and inquired, "Should I take you home?"
You'd drive me all the way to Kyoto? She glanced at him and nodded, uncertain what to make of such a grand gesture.
"Did anyone harm you?" He asked as he maneuvered the car out of the dark side street into the dense evening traffic. The tension in his jaw hinted at suppressed anger.
"How did you know I was here?" She asked back instead of answering the question.
The answer was yes, they had harmed her. They had shattered her trust in the Jujutsu Society. Trust? I don't even know why I had that to begin with. All these hours of her life that she had given to them. And this was how they treated her?
"A friend of mine works at HQ."
A friend…? It had to be the Orderly, the one who had managed to remove her from Naoya's presence before anything worse had happened.
"No physical harm was done," she answered his initial question. "Thank you again, from the bottom of my heart. And please convey my thanks to your friend too."
"I owed you," Nanami just said. He had to be referring to the other night, as if taking someone out to dinner to flush out a certain someone was that much of a crime.
"Not really," she murmured. Wasn't she to blame that he had been drawn into this whole mess in the first place?
"Should I call anyone?" Nanami asked cautiously.
"No," Utahime shook her head. She felt a sense of gratitude that her parents were currently out of the country. Equally relieving was Gojo's conspicuous absence from the situation. She needed time to think through her limited options before she faced him.
While her tension headache threatened to turn into a migraine, Nanami skillfully maneuvered his car through the tunnel past Chidorigafuchi Park. The hum of the engine was like the subdued purr of a domesticated animal. Deftly anticipating the flow of traffic, he merged into the stream of vehicles, the occasional flash of traffic and street lights reflected in his glasses. As they approached the ramp to the Shutoko Expressway, the car effortlessly accelerated and the engine's hum transformed into a confident roar. The car shot forward through the maze of tunnels and overpasses that led them past Shibuya's dazzling lights and out of the city. Once on the Meishin Expressway, the car gained even more speed until the surroundings blurred into streaks of black and white. The occasional light painted fleeting glimpses of their faces as they passed urban and rural landscapes, occasional road signs and dimly lit exits. The steady purr of the engine and the rhythmic drumming of the tires on the pavement lulled Utahime into a state that resembled a feverish dream, the speed of the car making the travel feel like she was flying through space.
Utahime was unsure how much time had passed when Nanami guided the car into the lights of a highway rest area. The vehicle came to a smooth halt in a designated parking spot, and Nanami, with his usual air of composed efficiency, turned off the engine. The muted hum of the highway traffic seemed far away as he stepped out and courteously held the door for her.
"We stop here and eat something," he informed her and she trotted after him on unsteady legs towards the modern building that blazed like a welcoming beacon in the night. Beyond the automatic glass door, the aroma of freshly baked bread greeted them.
"You can sit here," he indicated a secluded booth at the rear of the neat and tidy sitting area. "The toilets are that way."
Nanami left her alone to explore the selection of baked goods at the counter. Feeling strangely boneless and devoid of energy, Utahime watched how he started an animated conversation with the female baker. Not for the first time, she caught herself thinking that Nanami was the only active sorcerer of her acquaintance who looked and acted like a normal person. Strangely, her heart started to hurt for him because of it.
"You should eat something," Nanami returned with a tray, carrying an array of food items and beverages. He sat down opposite her and pointed at a doughnut shaped pastry. "This one is particularly good."
Obediently, Utahime took a bite of the recommended item, and the flavorful explosion of a smooth apple-cinnamon cream on her palate made her realize how famished she was. She hadn't eaten all day.
"It is one of the best bakeries between Tokyo and Kyoto," Nanami stated with a hint of pride, and Utahime nodded appreciatively as she continued devouring the treats. She used a napkin to clean her fingers, resisting the impulse to lick them clean. This was a very nice place, and she detected no cursed energy anywhere—the people here seemed genuinely happy.
She took a deep breath and relaxed a little.
When they walked back to the car side by side, Utahime couldn't help but voice a question that had been lingering in her mind. "Do you regret it? Returning to the world of Jujutsu Sorcery?"
"Every day," Nanami replied, opening the car door for her. "But I can't step away."
Neither can I, Utahime thought as they resumed their journey. Despite her occasional yearning for a normal life—she was well aware of her tendency to choose unsuitable non-sorcerers to date simply because she craved the kind of normalcy they symbolized—it seemed an unattainable dream. If you were born with the ability to see cursed energy, you were cursed.
"I am certain he killed him," she confided in Nanami as they neared Kyoto, her heart clenching in sympathy at the memory of Gojo's distressed state.
Nanami nodded stiffly, his jaw hard again.
"But they are not," she continued angrily. "Or it is just a convenient opportunity to make a move against him."
"He shouldn't have dragged you into it," Nanami retorted heatedly, and for the first time that night, he faced her fully, his eyes blazing behind his glasses.
A little surprised by his sudden vehemence, Utahime nodded. It was true, but then again, it was much too late to turn back the clock now.
"Do you want to sleep on my couch?" she offered as Nanami stopped the car in front of her apartment. It was well past 2am, and it was the least she could do.
"I don't want to be Hollow Purpled in my sleep," Nanami replied drily. "But thank you for the offer. I will sleep in the car and drive back at first light. You do not need to concern yourself with me, Senpai."
"Don't tell Gojo about my summons," Utahime said in parting.
"Oh, but he will hear about it for sure," Nanami huffed. "If this is a move against him, as you seem to insinuate, then they're counting on it, don't you think?"
###
Utahime found herself sleeping better than she would have thought possible. Perhaps her cleaning ritual had indeed helped—there were no nightmares or unsettling presences. Additionally, the heating seemed to have been restored, bringing sufficient warm water with it. Maybe the landlord had returned from his holidays, or perhaps the ancestors were briefly smiling upon her before shit was going to hit the fan.
After a long, comforting shower and brushing her hair until it crackled and shone, Utahime walked all the way to school even though it was the last day of the year and a Sunday. Gakuganji was still absent, but her female students were present in the common room, engrossed in a card game.
"Mai, can I talk to you?" she approached, noting a flicker of concern in the young woman's eyes. To reassure her, Utahime added, "It's about your history assignment."
A few weeks ago, Mai had chosen to write about the strained relationship between the Gojo and the Zen'in Clans since the Heian Era, an A+-worthy essay that had suffered only from the lack of access to certain sources.
"You already gave the assignment back," Mai murmured as she followed Utahime to her office. "Did you find something amiss, Sensei? I swear, I didn't copy anything without proper referencing!"
"No, don't worry," Utahime ushered the young woman into her office and closed the door. "Did you give my suggestion some thought? To talk to Gojo Sensei about access to his family's library, I mean."
Mai looked at her with such an aghast expression that Utahime was taken aback a little. "I just thought you might want to expand on your work," she explained hastily, "it would be a great way to get extra credits. There is so much more to explore!"
"But I can't talk to Gojo Sensei!"
"Why not?"
Mai looked down at the floor, a stubborn expression appearing on her face. "He hates all Zen'ins," she then pressed out. "And I can't even blame him, I do too."
"Well, he doesn't hate your sister, right? So he wouldn't hate you either," Utahime frowned at what she considered a strange excuse. "But it's okay, I won't force you to do anything you don't feel comfortable with."
"Is it because you have also heard the rumors?" Mai burst out. "Will there be a war?"
"What?" Now it was Utahime's time to feel aghast. "No, I haven't heard anything. Surely there won't be a war between the great clans in this day and age?"
"Only reasonable people would think that and I assure you, neither Naobito nor Naoya are reasonable."
"I asked about your assignment because I thought it would help us understand and perhaps address some of the animosity between the Clans," Utahime suppressed a shudder at the memory of Naoya's threatening presence and his words of warning. "But you know what? I will ask for access to the Gojo family library myself. If I find anything interesting, I will share it with you."
If anything, this provided the ideal pretext to correspond with Aunt Narumi, Utahime mused.
"Then it's true? You are dating?" Mai's eyes widened with intrigue.
To Utahime's chagrin, she felt her face heat up. "Where did you get that from? No, we're not dating, what absolute rubbish!"
It dawned on her too late that she hadn't asked Mai who she was supposed to be dating—something someone with no ties to Gojo would have most certainly done. Groaning, Utahime buried her face in her hands. Even the students talked about them! What a wretched end of the year.
###
Later that day, Utahime meticulously prepared for the New Year's Eve party at Kusakabe's, wanting to make a good impression on her Tokyo colleague and his girlfriend. She also wanted to prove to herself that she could go to a party a mere 7 days after Geto's attack and untimely death and enjoy herself. Shoko wasn't coming though, she had claimed to have work to do—and Nanami wasn't coming either, also because of work. In case Gojo showed up… she thought she was ready. Kind of.
At least, she had sorted out her options.
Option one: She could agree to the Higher-Ups' demands and feign closeness to Gojo. This tactical move would provide temporary safety for her family (and hopefully keep the Zen'ins off her back), but the steep price included betraying Gojo again, jeopardizing the trust of her colleagues, and compromising her personal integrity. And even if she swallowed her dignity and pride and complied with the hateful command, what guarantee for safety did she have in the long run? She had no illusions, she was a mere pawn, easily sacrificed in a game with unknown stakes.
Option two: She could try to discreetly seek support within the Jujutsu Society or from other influential figures. Building a network of allies could offer leverage and assistance, but Utahime had to acknowledge the bitter reality that the only family potent enough to provide such backing against the Higher-Ups and especially the Zen'ins was the Gojo Clan—the very association she fervently wanted to avoid.
Option three: Have an honest conversation with Gojo, disclosing the predicament she faced. By outright refusing the Higher-Ups' demands, she would accept the potential consequences for herself and her family. The hope lay in Gojo's awareness leading to a collaborative strategy to thwart the Higher-Ups' threat. However, given Gojo's unpredictable nature, this option carried an exceptionally high risk of calamitous consequences. The looming specter of a war, marked with a capital 'W,' seemed to overshadow this choice—an outcome that the Zen'ins were likely hoping for. Playing into their hands was, without a doubt, the least strategic move she could make. And if Gojo chose not to protect her...
Shit. The possibility of him simply not trusting her added an extra layer of uncertainty to an already perilous situation. If that happened… she had to fall back on option one. Maybe there was at least someone in the Zen'in family she could go talk to? She'd have to talk to Mai about it once more.
Pushing these thoughts away as far as possible, Utahime chose an elegant yet modern outfit, opting for a knee-length navy blue dress that accentuated her figure. The dress had subtle floral patterns, adding a touch of sophistication to the ensemble. Paired with black heels, the outfit met her expectations for the right blend of grace and confidence. As she moved on to her makeup, Utahime applied a light foundation to even out her skin tone and cover up her scar. She opted for a neutral eye shadow that complemented her eye color and added a subtle winged eyeliner and a few coats of mascara to frame her eyes. Blush and a soft pink lipstick added a rosy glow to her cheeks and lips, completing the polished yet understated makeup.
Last, Utahime took her time styling her hair, opting for loose waves that cascaded gracefully around her shoulders. A delicate silver necklace that her dad had given her for her 16th birthday adorned her neck, providing a subtle touch of elegance. Before leaving, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, satisfied with the refined and put-together look she had achieved.
Confident and dressed to impress, Utahime made her way to Kusakabe's New Year's Eve party, ready to welcome the upcoming year in style.
Only that suddenly, she felt watched again.
As she settled into her seat on the bus, a nagging sensation crept over her. It caused her to throw subtle glances over her shoulder, trying to discern any unfamiliar or suspicious figures. The ordinary chatter of the other passengers and the hum of the bus engine felt strangely amplified when her body went on high-alert.
Ridiculous, she chided herself, her hand clutching the strap of her bag like a life-line. Zen'in Naoya would never use public transport, calm down, you silly goose!
Just as her anxiety peaked and she was about to storm off the bus, a familiar voice cut through the tension. "Utahime! It's you, isn't it!"
She looked up to see a fellow Jujutsu Sorcerer she knew from school days by the name of Kenta, who had just boarded the bus. He was one of the smart ones who had dropped-out in time, realizing his powers were not sufficient to survive for long in battles. If she wasn't mistaken, he worked in a back-office somewhere in the local administration now.
"Are you perhaps also going to the party?" he inquired, bracing himself as the bus accelerated. "It's great to see you! You look so well!"
His friendly smile and the fond recognition in his eyes instantly dispelled the lingering unease. Utahime smiled back, grateful for the familiar face. And just like that, the feeling of being watched dissipated and was replaced by a sense of deep relief.
###
Kusakabe's girlfriend, a slim woman with short hair by the name of Emi, was undoubtedly a gem. The way Kusakabe frequently stared at her with open-mouthed amazement hinted that even he couldn't quite believe his luck. With effortless grace, Emi made it her mission to ensure everyone had a drink in hand, offering a diverse selection of beverages and snacks. Her commitment to the party's ambiance was evident in the meticulous attention to detail, from the carefully arranged decorations to the thoughtfully curated playlist. And she made it look effortless.
As the night unfolded, Emi handed small bowls of Toshikoshi Soba noodles to everyone, expressing wishes for "Good fortune, health, and happiness!"
Utahime received hers with a bow. "I hope you get to enjoy the party as well," she couldn't help but add. The noodles looked like art. It would have taken the young woman hours to prepare them.
"Oh," Emi blinked at her a little owlishly. "You know, Utahime-san, I was incredibly nervous to meet Kusakabe's esteemed Jujutsu Sorcerer colleagues. I mean, you all are so skilled and accomplished, and here I am, just a regular person hosting a party. You don't know how much I wished to have more powers when I was a child!"
"Some of us wish they had less," Utahime murmured under her breath. "You're doing an amazing job, Emi. We're just people, after all, and we appreciate a good party as much as anyone else."
"We are so thankful for what you do!" Emi beamed, her eyes full of admiration.
"I just educate the kids", Utahime felt a little awkward to receive praise she didn't think she deserved. "I don't get sent on many missions anymore."
"Isn't that because the curses got so much stronger? That's what I heard."
"Maybe," Utahime wasn't particularly sad that she didn't have to juggle teaching and active mission duties like some others. Maybe I'm just getting old, she thought, not even disliking the idea.
"Do you know Gojo Satoru well?" Emi asked timidly.
"Yes, fairly well." Understatement of the year, but then again, did she really know him?
"I didn't dare invite him," Emi sighed, "but would have loved to. And Kusakabe said it's better not to associate with Special Grades. Do you agree?"
"Er… well, yes." She felt actual disappointment that he wouldn't come. "They are rather… special."
They giggled together, but the conversation made Utahime feel awkward. There were only a handful of active Jujutsu Sorcerers present at the party. The rest of the crowd were unranked people who saw and could use cursed energy to a very limited extent. She became aware of reverent glances that were thrown her way.
Being ogled with so much awe drove Utahime to succumb to the allure of prosecco, each sip dulling the edges of reality. From experience she knew: past a certain threshold, the decision to stop drinking became an elusive endeavor. The more she indulged, the more the boundaries blurred, and the desire for another pour arose.
The effervescent bubbles seemed to carry her back in time, to another New Year's Party and a shameless display of youthful exuberance. Memories of a body, lean and strong, flashed vividly in her mind—an image of someone who had grown taller and even more muscular over the years. In a moment of clarity and truth, Utahime realized that she was lucky she had hated him so much back in school or else, she would have been helplessly attracted.
Emi came her way again, dragging with her a man with a thoughtful face adorned with wire-framed glasses.
"May I introduce my brother Hiroshi to you, Utahime Sensei? Hiroshi, Utahime is a Sensei at Kyoto Jujutsu High."
The man bowed deeply, then displayed a charming smile.
"Utahime-san, I am following the work of active Jujutsu Sorcerers with great interest," Hiroshi began. He was very lean, if not thin. His eyes sparkled with a mix of intelligence and genuine interest. "And now, to have the chance to converse with someone as accomplished as you—truly an honor."
"I'm not that accomplished," she waved a dismissive hand through the air, almost knocking down a candle. "Your sister is giving me too much credit."
"Hiroshi is a historian, he is currently doing extensive research on Michizane Sugawara for an upcoming book," Emi informed her proudly.
She probably made a weird face at that information because Hiroshi laughed. "I specialize in the Heian period. I write mostly for non-sorcerers but I am of course interested in the history of Jujutsu Sorcery too. Do you teach it at Jujutsu High at all?"
"Yes, of course," she went on to bore him with details of their syllabus, which did not seem to bore him at all. In fact, he pulled out a notebook and began to write something in it. How to tell the charming young man to be careful? Somehow, she had a feeling that doing extensive research on Michizane Sugawara was a sure way to get into deep trouble. A vivid image of a bloodied mess, unrecognizable apart from the wire-framed glasses flashed in her mind and she felt the need to shake her head to dispel it.
"I know quite a bit about Michizane Sugawara myself," she heard herself boast. That was exactly the wrong kind of information to give him. Two red dots appeared on Hiroshi's cheeks as he declared: "I would be thrilled to hear all about it! Utahime Sensei, I will contact you in the new year, mark my word!"
Somehow, they got to the end of the year after that.
As the clock struck midnight, the sonorous tolling of the bells commenced, signifying the purification of the 108 worldly desires. In Kyoto, adorned with its rich tapestry of over 1,600 temples, this was a grand spectacle. Each guest eagerly stepped onto the balcony or leaned out of open windows, ready to share in the collective joy of welcoming the new year.
Only Utahime stayed back, suddenly overcome by deep melancholia. It wasn't much that separated her from these people, but it was enough to make her feel utterly alone. If she felt like this, how much worse would it be for someone like Go…
She felt his presence a mere fraction of a moment before he materialized next to her, causing her breath to catch and her heart to stutter.
"I don't like parties to which I am not invited. They make me want to do bad things to you," he purred close to her ear.
"Satoru," she gasped. You're here. You're finally here! She had waited all night, she realized. Quickly, she grabbed his arm, half fearing he might leave again too soon. "We need to talk."
Option 3. I'm going for Option 3.
"Nah. I don't feel like talking," he said, dropping his voice very low.
His blindfold dangled at his throat. He bathed her in the liquid blue fire of his eyes, greedily drinking in her countenance. Compulsively, she licked her lips as she stared up at him. How? How does he do it? She was already disintegrating. His eyes followed the movement of her tongue. A low sound escaped his throat and he leaned towards her.
"Not here," She pushed against him, feeling dizzy in his presence, relieved and apprehensive. "There are too many people and… we're not even dating!"
"I don't know what you mean," he winked, and brushed his lips against her forehead, inhaling deeply. "You look damn gorgeous. I want to do bad things to you even more."
"We…," she attempted meekly to hold on to her sanity because in her head, a jubilating voice had begun to sing "I am going to have glorious, mind-numbing sex before the new year is one hour old." "...need to talk first. It's important."
In her haste, she slurred the words a little.
"Are you drunk?" He booped her nose and grinned broadly. "You are adorable."
"No way, not at all." A tiny bit.
"Walk in a straight line, please," he pointed at the carpet with a long, slender finger.
"I know exactly what I'm doing," she assured him. He smelled really good and she leaned in to sniff discreetly. "Where have you been?"
"Africa," he replied. "Kenya. Nairobi."
That was really far away. "And you just got back?"
"Yes. Then I thought: What might Utahime be doing?" He lifted a finger into the air as if he were thinking. "Ah, she'll be at some party to which I'm not invited. Bingo!"
"How… how did you know I'm here?" Utahime asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"I have my ways," he grinned. "And I organized a male stripper."
"You did not!" She gasped, quickly scanning the entrance.
From the corner of her eye, she saw that Hiroshi turned from the window. He gave a visible start when he recognized Gojo and swiveled around to his sister to alert her. Of course, Gojo noticed the agitation. The grin spreading on his face did not bode well for these kind people.
Utahime pulled at his sleeve. "Do you want to go somewh…"
"Yes."
In the blink of an eye, he had teleported them to a dark room that smelled of lake and incense. The bells were still ringing, but their sound seemed much further away. The delicate murmur of water lapping at a shore and the gentle rustling of leaves surrounded them.
"Let's do that thing again where we promise to lie in bed together for the rest of our lives," he began to stroke his thumb over her face, twirling her hair around a finger.
"Yes," she whispered, leaning forward towards the warmth of his body.
His lips grazed her cheek. "Ah, Utahime," he sighed deeply. "I've had a rough couple of days."
He pulled her down and folded her into his arms, positioning her head against his chest. They were on a futon, among a bundle of soft, fragrant blankets. I know this place, she thought, but things were getting hazy. His heartbeat at her ear seemed to lull her into a dreamlike state.
"Do you know," he murmured, gently stroking her hair and taking a deep, shaking breath, "what the bells mean? That none of us stands alone in the world. That human suffering affects all of us. That every death takes something away from the entirety of mankind. Thank you for being here with me, Utahime. Thank you."
In the embrace of the quiet room, he wept silently, his entire frame shaking with a vulnerability that touched her so deeply, her own tears started to flow freely.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "Nobody should bear this much alone. Nobody."