bevswashere

[bevswashere]

Koi No Yokan

Chapter 33: Confessions

December 2013Two weeks later.

From the moment I arrived, Kei met me with distaste. She liked to complain about the way I approached our investigation, the way I walked beside her, how I spoke too much or didn’t speak enough. Most of all, I think she hated the way I persistently dismissed her efforts to get a rise out of me. Every complaint was met with a simple shrug or wave of my hand. Sometimes I’d even agree with her just to change the rhythm of things, say I do think I’m not good at holding conversation, and I should be more rational about our mission. 

“Why are you wearing those glasses? They look stupid.”

“Satoru gave them to me.”

She’d stop talking whenever he came up. Shigeri too. The fact that I had two people she highly valued in the depths of my personal life seemed to rattle her usual agitated cadence. She retracted into herself in these moments, cast her hazel eyes towards the wall or on the floor.

Twelve whole days of this jarring cycle convinced me that she tried to make us clash on purpose. Intentionally making decisions that contended with mine—alternate courses of action, staying in one hotel versus another, even things as simple as ordering coffee in a café. 

“That’s him,” Kei whispered.

Both of us were crouched down behind a crumbled stone wall, eyeing the sickly looking man coming out of the nearest building. An easy suspect linked with the curse user ring and their objective.

“You want to take care of him or should I?”

She scans his lanky frame, so hunched it threatens to tip over. “He seems more your speed. Have at him.”

I refrain from reminding her that “my speed” is still the second strongest in the world. I refrain from giving her provocation any thought at all, opting to treat her like a rebellious student. Like it was my job not to lose my patience with her.

Without much effort, he’s backed into a corner, completely restrained by Kei’s thread while he whimpers and begs for his life. 

“Relax,” I tell him. “We just want the address for your headquarters. Maybe a list of names of your superiors.”

He complies immediately, still weeping at the prospect of losing his life. “Those eyes… He said you’d be coming for us,” he snivels. “The Uematsu Special Grade. Please don’t kill me—!”

“Who said that?” I’m sharply cut off by his neck snapping under the pressure from the thread. “Kei, wait—”

But even my vision wasn’t enough time to stop the reality from occurring. The sharp crack, the spurt of blood that bubbled up from his throat, the way his body jolts before falling down limply on the concrete.

“I wasn’t done.”

“He already told us everything we needed to know. Besides—” she retracts her thread back into its spool. “It’s not like we could let him live anyway. He’d warn all his friends we’re coming. They would have gathered everything and relocated by the time we reached them. Then we’d be back to square one.”

“We could have hidden him for the time being.”

“Where? In our hotel room?”

“Or turned him in to the police.”

“This isn’t Tokyo—we don’t have the resources to do any of that.”

“I don’t like mindless killing.”

“It wasn’t mindless,” Kei takes on a sarcastic tone, “I thought about it long and hard.” 

“He might have had a family.”

“Then he should have thought of them before becoming a criminal.”

Her tone is incredibly harsh, the kind of cold grit perfect for a Jujutsu Sorcerer in my opinion. In some twisted way, I actually admire her detachment. 

When I stand, I see a drop of his blood has landed on her pale cheek. I lift a hand, swipe it away gently. “There’s blood on your—” Her body shivers violently out of my touch, different from the usual defiance she insisted on. True and utter repulsion. “Are you that disgusted with me?”

I’m not met with the snarky retort I was expecting, though. Actually Kei didn’t say another word until we reached our hotel, walking so fast at times that I had to jog to catch up with her.

“Kei, wait!” I called out, trailing her like a lost child into our hotel room. After staring at the back of her head for half an hour, I finally lose my patience, “Seriously, what is your problem?” 

She pivots on her heels to face me. “I don’t like you!” 

“I can see that—”

“I don’t like your attitude or that stupid, bored look on your face. I didn’t have the luxury of earning my promotion overnight—a convenient technique or a wealthy clan to give me whatever I wanted. I waited years to get what I deserved. I worked hard!” She pauses, but only to take a short, uneven breath. “You have no idea what it’s like to have no one. To be abandoned. To have no family, no name. To be raised inside a school your whole life because nobody wanted you! Instead, you walk around so miserably while everything is handed to you—Satoru, Shigeri, your whole fucking clan. Everyone destroying themselves to please you. You love it, don’t you, all that attention?”

Her pale skin is flushed with a reddish hue now, chest rising largely to take in delayed, deep breaths. At her sides, her fists are clenched so tight they’re trembling. What she’s harbored, for however long—maybe since the moment we met—is hatred, pure, unadulterated hatred. So strong I’m surprised it hasn’t cursed me yet. Wrung me out with her golden thread and crushed me into dust.

“Do you even have the slightest clue what it’s like to be passed up for a mission? How much blood and sweat it takes to be perfect? But none of it matters does it? Because my last name is made up, because I’m not a prodigy, because I’m not buddied up with Gojo Satoru.”

For a moment, I think she’s done, but she takes a step closer. “And the most irritating part of it all?” She’s shuddering to breathe, finger trembling as it points towards my face. “You wear it all like it’s some sort of hardship. Like being the strongest is a nuisance. Do you have any idea how many Jujutsu Sorcerers—how many people—would kill to be in your position? To be as strong as you are and have someone even stronger standing in your corner?”

Her fury finally boils over into something much colder. “I would give anything for that…” The raw confessions of someone drowned in isolation. “But it doesn’t matter, because I can’t have it.” 

Kei finally stops to catch her breath, desperately trying to compose herself. But my silence only continues her fuming, “What? Nothing to say?” 

“Well…” My eyes dart about the room, the velvet curtains and cotton sheets. Our belongings scattered, but clearly divided into two separate halves. “I don’t really care.” 

Kei’s lips part for a short moment, but then she starts laughing. Humorless, heaving breaths filled with tremoring frustration. “Of course you don’t.”

“As far as I can tell, you’ve hated me from the day we met.” I release the tension holding up my shoulders throughout Kei’s outburst. “Though, I don’t really get why you’re so insistent on hating me for all the things you seem to like Satoru for.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s always had more than me: money, importance, a convenient technique. You don’t seem to care about any of that.” 

She shakes her head quickly, her golden hair tangling around the lines of her face. Her eyes are drawn to the wall now, “You and Gojo are nothing alike.” 

“Aren’t we? We were born into wealthy Jujutsu clans and sure bad things have happened to us, but we still have the power to do whatever we want. It’s because of that that we want each other so badly.” The air in the room turns cold, different from the heat that radiated from Kei only moments ago. “That upsets you right? You want to be in my position because it leads exactly to what you want, the name, the power, Satoru.”

She raises her voice so loud it echoes off the walls, “It’s not your position that I want!” The outburst rips from her throat so largely that her tone becomes dry, wavering, “There was no one like me in the Kyoto school.” Her teeth sink into her pink, bottom lip, arms hugging herself as she turns away from me, leaving only her profile visible. “There’s no one like me anywhere in this job. I thought…” I think she’s begun to cry. “It was so obvious from the moment we met that all you care about is Gojo-san. I thought…” She turns from me completely, out towards our balcony with the view of the sleeping city. “Stealing his attention would be the only way to have yours.” 

The course of the argument makes my head spin. “What would you need my attention for?”

Her voice softens now, like that a child abandoned and restless. “Are you really going to make me say it out loud?”

For the next few moments, I try to understand, and once I do, I say, “No… It’s okay.”

She uses her hand to wipe the tears along her cheek, steadies herself, “We can finish our mission with the information we have now. Then we can go home, forget about all of this.” 

For the next hour or so, Kei sequestered herself to the balcony. Her frame hunched on one of the lawn chairs, arms wrapped around herself. I considered the idea of joining her several times, thought over in my head what the best thing to say might be, but every time I came up short. She was right—I had no idea what it was like in her position, to struggle with what she’s struggling with. But on the other hand, I knew exactly what it’s like to have no one. To love someone I couldn’t have.

When I finally found the courage to fill the seat next to her, all I could ask was that she be honest about her story. We didn’t have to like one another, but at least we should understand. Through some difficulty, Kei admitted her parents gave her up as a baby. Then around eight years old, the orphanage was growing hesitant to continue housing a “clairvoyant.” Naoko Sensei from Kyoto found her shortly after, practically raised her into the woman she is today. But at every instance of her life, Kei couldn’t fight the sensation that nobody wanted her—that she’d be left to live and die alone. The feeling only festered after she’d peaked in her abilities, capping her development as a First Grade sorcerer. “There’s no more hill to climb,” she said, “All that’s left is to fall down the other side.” 

I wanted to tell her that wasn’t true, that there was more to look forward to, but even as someone who could see the future, I wasn’t sure what we should look towards. The trajectory for Jujutsu Sorcerers is bleak, uncertain. If you live long enough to conquer that steep growth curve, there’s not much else to life besides exercising curses until you’re killed or old enough to retire. Then what? Raise a family, possibly watch them die? There’s no sense in any of it. The both of us are too tired to keep watching everyone around us disappear. 

After more than an hour of Kei’s confession and my silent observance, we decided to call it a night. Trapped in the dark, I felt the air hold a different kind of stiffness. One that reminds me I now hold a part of Kei no one else does. And for the first time, I wish the absolute best for her. I drift off with the hope that she meets someone who can reciprocate what I can’t for her, who could show her there’s more life to look forward to the way Satoru—Shigeri—has for me. 

My sleep is slowly disrupted by a distant buzz. Not enough to force my eyes open, to pull me from the restless void. But Kei launching a pillow at me was more than enough. It hits me hard at the center of my face, “Oi! Take it outside before I throw it out the balcony.”

Half-awake, I pull myself and the phone out into the hallway. I answer, “What is it?”

His bright voice reaches me from the other end, “How is Rome?”

“Satoru,” I slide down against the corridor wall, dropping my groggy head into my knees, “It’s 3AM here.”

“Right, I forgot about the time difference.”

I repeat myself, “What is it?”

“I’ve been thinking—” unlike himself, he hesitates suddenly. The only sign he hasn’t hung up is the slow breaths he exhales into the receiver. “When you come back, maybe we should try to figure this out.”

“Figure what out?”

“Us.”

The word settles in a beat of silence between us. At this point, it’s not enough to make my heart race, but it does make my head rise, makes my eyes open wider. “What about us?”

He breathes slowly again—too calculated, too controlled. It tells me he’s carefully considered this call, run the conversation over in his head too many times to count. “I’m saying we should figure out a way to be like we used to. You know, like in high school.”

My voice is the most unsteady part of me. “We’re not teenagers anymore.”

“I know. That’s why we need to figure it out.”

I reach an impasse. Because this, the words he’s saying to me in his own twisted and beautiful way, is exactly what I’ve wanted from the moment he ended things. I’ve yearned for his love and fought each day to swallow that feeling, bury it deeper inside of myself. I’ve tried so hard to make the feeling fade because… even when it worked, it didn’t actually work. 

Now it’s my turn to take deep breaths to stay calm. “I’m not the one who needs to figure anything out.”

“You mean you’ve made up your mind already?”

It feels like driving a knife through the center of my chest. “There’s a ring on my finger, isn’t there?”

“Kaede.” His tone is firmer now. He’s fighting. “I love you.”

“I know that.” A tear slips past my lashes, but my words hold finality. He can hear it too. “I…I really love you, Satoru.”

His voice tightens in frustration. “Then, why?” 

“You—” I hesitate to say it, but I’m goaded by Kei’s newly placed trust in me. If she could be honest after everything we’ve been through, why shouldn’t I with the person I love most. “You’re still stuck right where Suguru left us.” 

The origin of his distance—the point where I lost them both. Whatever love Satoru has for me, it can’t be separated from the love he still has for his first and closest friend. Suguru was too big a part of our future he envisioned. With him gone, Satoru can’t see it anymore. And if he can, he doesn’t want it—not enough to try. 

“I can forgive you for that, Satoru, but I don’t think I can be with you because of it.” 

I absolutely hate it. The sound of the world’s strongest, broken down and defeated. “I understand.”

Then the call ends and I wait in the hallway for some time, spinning the ring on my finger, fighting the urge to call him back and say I was wrong. But I don’t and I take the ring off my finger and put it in my pocket for the time being.

[bevswashere]

Koi No Yokan

Juju Stroll: A Simple Favor

It was another one of those “urgent” calls from Satoru. The ones where her phone rings out of the blue and he puts on that helpless, whiny tone, “Come over.”

“For what?”

“I need you,” he’d say. “Hurry.”

And Kaede would drop everything at hand. She’d forget her million responsibilities, the dozen lives under her care and she’d rush to his side for whatever trivial task awaited her. To be needed by the strongest again.

“What is it this time?”

She steps into his new place, seeing a chair set up next to a razor and pair of scissors.

“I need you to cut my hair.”

“Why me?”

“I feel weird when strangers do it,” he said. “Besides, I asked Shoko already and she said no.”

“Fine,” Kaede sighed immediately, knowing how much easier it was to go along with these things than to argue. She had him sit in the chair before her, run her fingers through the strands of white bunching at the back of his head. “How do you want it?”

“Like these,” he pulled out his phone, showing her example pictures of guys with an undercut. “I’m thinking of new ways to cover my eyes for missions. This haircut should work.”

She combed through his hair a little more, then sections off the top layer before turning on the razor. “What if I mess up and you have to go bald?” she asks over the razor’s buzz.

He hums for a moment, “Would you still think I’m cute?”

It’s Kaede’s turn to pause, to feel the familiar wave of guilt when she realizes how quickly she’d left to meet him. How she could be convinced to split the world in half if he asked nicely enough. “I guess so.”

“Then that’s fine, do whatever you want. But preferably like the picture.”

Slowly, the thick muss of hair she knew so well thinned out, the bottom layer sheared so short that the ends pricked against the pads of her fingers. She trimmed the rest, cleaning up the locks that would fall into his eyes, cutting around his ears and transforming him somehow into a new version of himself—one that immediately looked older when she put down the scissors.

He looked up at her. “How is it?”

She runs her hands through his hair one more time, “You look cute.”

His lips curl into a familiar knowing smirk, but it fades when she tries to pull away. He reaches for her hand, fingers warming her cold wrist, and sets it against the soft skin of his cheek.

They stay like this for a silent moment, Satoru closing his eyes as he intakes her touch, Kaede staring at his beautiful face, hardly wanting to let go. But she does eventually, retreating towards herself as her skin returns to cold.

“Shigeri’s coming to Tokyo to become the Third Year teacher,” she confessed. “We…”

She can’t finish the sentence. She doesn’t need to.

“Do you think…” Satoru hesitated, something only Kaede could make him do. To doubt. To yearn for her ability to manipulate time—to take back all the awful words he’d said and redouble all the efforts he didn’t make. “...Your happiest with him could compare to your happiest with me?”

Kaede lifted her gaze to find his, unobstructed orbs of brilliant blue. The embodiment of the skies and oceans all at the same time. “What kind of question is that?”

“Because if it can’t, then you should find someone else. Someone better,” Satoru said. “I want you to love someone who will make you the happiest you could possibly be.”

Kaede’s caught up in the tangled anger and love she still harbored for him. The choked down urge to scream and cry that he could be all of those things for her if he’d bothered to care. The mess of feelings that she hoped with her whole heart would fade as the situation with Shigeri progressed.

“I can’t know unless I try, right?”

The forlorn look on his face disappeared in an instant. His tall body shoots up quickly, heading for the bathroom to look at his new hair. “That’s true.” 

[bevswashere]

Koi No Yokan

Chapter 32: Departure

December 2013 The next morning.

Shigeri presses his lips to the lobe of my ear, hands enveloping mine tightly. "We need to celebrate the engagement more once you're back."

"What kind of celebration?"

"Nice dinners," he kisses my jaw softly, "My sister will want to go out with us too," my cheek, "We can finally visit the National Garden in Shinjuku like you've been asking," my nose, "And we also need to practice."

I run my hand through the ends of his hair. "Practice what?"

"You know," he smiles, "Consummating the marriage."

"Oh, Sensei!" Sachi waves from the top of the stairs to the courtyard, running down towards us with the other two trailing behind. Shigeri and I pull apart immediately. "You don't have to do that, Uematsu Sensei," he smiles, so large that his eyes squeeze shut. "We all know you and Kamo Sensei are together."

I fail to find my next words, and stutter profusely. Perhaps because I'm their teacher or simply because I'm older, I don't feel the urge to scream to the world that I'm with Shigeri—not the way I had with Satoru. This partnership felt reserved, private, but at the same time, concrete. I'm not being held over the edge of a cliff with him and I like that.

Shigeri laughs, "Don't embarrass her, Sachi-kun."

"Is it true you're leaving?" Sachi asks, "Who's going to look after us?"

"Shigeri—I mean Kamo Sensei will take care of everything," I say, "It'll go by quickly. You won't even realize I'm gone."

"They said they're sending you away because Ryomen Sukuna is after you." Runa arrives at the ground level of the courtyard with Iwao, little ribbons tied into the bottom of her braids.

"Who said that?"

"The other students. It's a test they said. If you manage to find a finger overseas, then he really is drawn to you."

My saliva gets caught in the center of my throat, rolling down painfully slowly from Runa's soulless tone, her steel, wide eyes staring straight into mine.

"Don't believe everything you hear, Runa-chan," Shigeri says lightly, "The other students like to scare each other with rumors."

Runa's voice is small, but clear, "And if it's not just a rumor?"

"It is a rumor." I force myself to smile. "Besides, if the day ever comes when I have to face him, I'll win."

"Of course you would, Sensei!" Sachi pumps his fist into the air, "We'd be right there with you!"

"Good." I smile again, genuinely this time. "I like that attitude."

We let the students break into their own chatter as we wait for my departure. Shigeri leans in, lowers his voice so only I can hear, "Students don't come up with those kinds of rumors on their own."

"Yaga mentioned something before," I say, "About sending Kei-chan to monitor me."

His brow furrows. "You think it's true, then? That this is some kind of test?"

I glance at my students, laughing, bright-eyed, hope still intact. "I don't know."

"This is ridiculous," he scoffs, "Using you as bait for Sukuna—or baiting you into giving them a reason to have you executed. All of this trouble," his jaw tightens, "For coincidence."

I shift my eyes from them to the endless sky above, the clouds moving slowly through an even blue. "Six times is too many for a coincidence. If I am the reason the fingers are being gathered into one place.... Maybe something should be done about me."

"How can you say that?" The sick look on his face is no longer the one reserved for the higher ups. It's more pitiful than that, more personal. "We're getting married, Kaede. Spending our lives together. You understand that, right? We're not in the position to self-sacrifice anymore."

"It's bigger than just the two of us."

He grabs my hand with a sudden force, "Exactly, which means even if you give up, another sorcerer will come along and be targeted by him all the same. Who will be there to protect them?"

I sensed him far sooner than I could hear him. "Good morning!"

Satoru was waving at us from the top of the courtyard, cursed energy drowning us so far beneath him. For a fraction of a moment, I saw his long limbs, smiling and waving on the grounds of a school he hadn't been to for years and I saw him—seventeen and in uniform, hair bunched up at the back of his head, running towards me with the urgency I adored.

"Are these your students?"

"No way!" Sachi cried, "Gojo Satoru?"

Though Iwao and Runa's reactions were not as vocal, I could see their eyes scanning him in awe. It's times like these I remember he's merely a concept to most Jujutsu sorcerers, an unattainable symbol of strength. None of them really know his voice or his eyes, that he's ticklish around the torso, or gets confused trying to build furniture. That he likes to feed stray cats and is awful at karaoke. He's not human to them.

Is he still human to me?

"What are you doing here?"

"I brought a gift for your travels." He pulls a pair of sunglasses from his pocket, the same round-rimmed pair he had worn while we were students. "Try them on."

"I won't be able to see."

"I had the lenses changed," he says, "It's one-way glass now."

My mistake was reaching out for them, raising the hand with the ring I know he immediately saw. But when he goes on speaking as if nothing has happened, I'm... wounded almost. All the little things about him I held safe in my memory seemed to fade out within a second. They're not about him anymore, they're about someone else—someone who was still human.

The world is masked in gray by the glasses, a mourning color. "It's... nice." My words are heavy, struggling to find their way past my lips. I pull them off almost immediately. "Thanks."

"They're the only ones I've owned," he says, "One of a kind."

"Maybe you should keep them."

"No." His hands disappear in his pockets. "They're yours."

"It's useful for your technique," Shigeri—too kind for his own good—offers, "Now they won't know where you're looking."

The air thickens around me. I can feel the glasses in my hand, the fragility of frames I could crush between my fingers if I really wanted to—but I didn't. I couldn't let go of the Satoru who used to wear them. "I think I'll go now."

"Really?" Shigeri says, "You still have some time."

"No, I should leave." The distance would be better for our engagement, for my own sanity—maybe even the preservation of Satoru and I's friendship. "Take care of each other, okay?"

Sachi grins. "Don't forget about us while you're gone, Sensei!"

"How could I forget you guys?" I manage a smile. "I'll be searching for your souvenirs the entire time."

"Sensei..." Runa speaks up, eyes wandering as if she's reconsidering, "...Be careful."

Shigeri squeezes my hand one last time, pressing down on his ring. "Come back soon."

And then, like the final nail in my coffin, Satoru speaks calmly, "Safe travels."

I look at him, an immense pressure forcing the air out of my lungs, and I can't speak. I can only turn away like a coward and leave everyone before the situation confuses me more than it already has.  

[bevswashere]

[bevswashere]

One of Kishi's ideas at de-aging characters is, like

[bevswashere]

it’s those guys from naruto

[bevswashere]

genma is so fucking sexy wtffffffff naruto animators

[bevswashere]

Koi No Yokan

Chapter 31: Moving On

It’s cold here, inside the abandoned clock tower. Wood creaking beneath my feet, no sound besides the tick of the seconds going by. It means nothing, though. Time doesn’t pass here, my body doesn’t age. Only cold, empty.

The white glass panes behind the clock arms slowly drip with something crimson. I look more closely, only for the tower to rattle in a thunderous chime. The hour hand has reached twelve, and from its tip hangs Haruki’s body.

December 20134 years later.

I wake up briskly after that, eyes snapping open, a sweat broken out across my brow. My heart is beating rather quickly. I have to sit up, take a few slow breaths.

Shigeri stirs, reaches out. “Who was it this time?”

I lay back down into his arms, feel him breathe warmly into my side. “Haruki.” Another student who died last year. We’re used to these nightmares, though. Dead students, family members, friends, all coming back to haunt us in our sleep. The narrative varies, sometimes curses that have left a lasting impression kill them, other times they die at my own hand. At times they are simply there, loitering in my mind, watching me. When there are no nightmares, there’s only deep, dark sleep. I find myself craving that more and more these days.

“It’s still early,” Shigeri says. “Try to sleep some more.”

I close my eyes as he tells me, but my mind is already alive. I cannot forget Haruki’s face, or any of the others. I stay in my place, awake, until our alarm sounds.

“What do you have for today?” he asks, pulling the top of his uniform over his head.

“Not much.” I pull my shoes onto my feet, remembering that last night, I’d found a ring in Shigeri’s nightstand while looking for something else. “Yaga wanted to meet in an hour for a mission briefing. After that I might take the kids into the field.”

“And after that?”

“After that, nothing.”

I feel his arms wrap around my middle, his chin landing above my shoulder. “You’ll be free for dinner then?”

My stomach turns. “I should be.”

He kisses my cheek. “Good, we’ll have a date night.”

I can already picture it, Shigeri giving some sort of heartfelt speech, before getting on one knee in the middle of a restaurant. Everyone will start clapping, and I’ll want to sink into the floor where no one could find me.

“What’s with that sick look on your face?”

I straighten up in my seat. “Nothing, nothing.”

“As I was saying,” Yaga continues clicking through the mission file on his computer, “Expect to be overseas for some time, maybe two to three weeks. You guys will need to take your time flushing out the curse users.”

“‘You guys’?”

Yaga sighs. “The higher ups are still weary about your movements. They won’t say it outright, but they’ll want you monitored, especially considering the distance.”

“I’ve behaved myself for four years.”

“You discovered a sixth Sukuna finger last month,” Yaga counters. “You’re nearing half of the whole, that makes them uneasy. Tsuda-san has volunteered to accompany you.”

“Kei?!” I can’t contain my disbelief. “She hates me. Why would she volunteer to join me overseas?”

“Perhaps on the off chance that you make a wrong move, she could justify killing you.”

I scoff, arms folded above my chest. “As if.” I let my head fall back against the back of my chair, sighing largely up at the ceiling. “They should just sentence me already.”

“And give you an excuse to act out?”

“If I wanted to act out I would have done it by now. The only reason I’m laying low is—”

“They’ll entrust Satoru with your execution.”

Yaga’s words pose a statement, not a question. “Right. After all, killing Suguru is still technically his job.”

“Work carefully on this mission,” Yaga tells me. “Locate the curse users, carry out their sentences, quietly. Drawing any attention to yourself won’t be good for either of us.”

“So you keep saying.”

∞

“Right, inside here is a third grade—no, second grade? Third?” My thumb points to the doors behind me. I lean in a little closer. “Sounds like a second grade.”

“You can hear it?” Sachi, my most enthusiastic first year, raises his hand as he speaks.

“Everything has a frequency, even cursed energy, if you listen hard enough.”

Runa, the only girl this year, meets this fact with the same apathy she meets everything else with. “Why don’t they teach us that in the first place?”

“Well, there’s only two people I can think of who can do this.” They’re looking at one of them. “Besides, it isn’t just uncommon, it’s pretty annoying when you’re not trying to find a curse. Ah, that reminds me,” I reach into my pockets and pull out three blue whistles fixed to some string, “Exorcise it, but if you can’t—and only if you think you’re going to die—blow this.”

I toss one to each of them. Iwao observes it, unimpressed, “A whistle?”

“You guys will do better if I’m not watching, so blow that and I’ll come help if you need me to.”

“And if we die before we get the chance?” Runa asks.

My tone turns serious. “You’ll know right away if you’re outmatched. Unless you’re feeling particularly good today, don’t try to be a hero. Blow the whistle.”

They put on their faces of determination and enter the gymnasium without me. Silently, I wait, leaning against one of the walls, holding my breath as I do every time they leave my sight. Each of them are gifted, I don’t doubt that, but they’re young, eager to prove themself. I would know, considering I’m not that far off from their position.

Arakawa Iwao, the tall one, with the clean cut hair, and thickly framed glasses might be the most type A person I’ve ever met, second only to Kento-kun. His actions rely solely on logic, probabilities. Likewise his technique requires him to form physical barriers of exact measurements, once established these barriers can amplify the techniques of those inside. It’s not the most useful technique in terms of a one on one battle, which is why I immediately thought to keep him close to Yagami Runa, the daughter of a curse user Mei-san killed about six years ago. Since then, both the Tokyo and Kyoto schools have been keeping a close eye on her. Runa, and her father, possessed the ability to convert cursed energy into raw dark matter. It’s a unique skill, potent when encountered, but like any technique that creates physical matter, the energy expenditure outweighs the end results. Keeping Iwao close is the key to overcoming those limitations, letting her push the boundaries on her technique.

Fukase Sachi, with his helplessly innocent demeanor and mussed golden hair, is a shikigami user. What he lacks in strength, he makes up for in good attitude. With a bit of guidance, he’s been able to expand his shikigami collection to a cursed gazelle, eagle, and badger. My main focus, though, has been solidifying his hand to hand skills, making sure he doesn’t fall behind when the other two have each other to depend on.

Thirty minutes later, no whistles are blown, and they return bruised and battered. Iwao’s left arm is bleeding heavily, and Sachi is limping.

“All done?” My hand hovers over Iwao’s wound, turning ever so slightly as the bleeding stops.

“Oh, Reverse Cursed Technique?” Sachi says in wonderment.

“Barely.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Runa says, voice low, monotone. I can’t tell if it’s impress or resentment.

“Tons of stuff. For example, healing Iwao here.” We break into the open air again, my hand still carefully above Iwao-kun’s arm. Runa is helping Sachi walk. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll teach you guys everything I know before the school year is up. I promise it.”

∞

“How did they do today?” Shigeri’s load has been easy recently, seeing as he only has one student. Haruki’s classmate.

“Passed with flying colors.”

He shifts in his seat, and I hold my breath. “Are you sure? You seem jumpy.”

“Just a little tired,” I say, eating my dinner slowly, acutely aware of each bite taken. The slightest movement from Shigeri, the faintest twitch of his arm, puts me on alert. I would gain warning from the Forward Sight, but what good would it do? What would I say if he really does take the ring out?

But the dinner concludes, we split the bill, and I feel myself release this massive breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. The ring can be a situation for another night.

Arm in arm, we walk through the city, the sun slowly sinking beneath the skyline. “Were you ever going to bring up how you’ll be leaving tomorrow?”

“To be honest, I forgot.” Things slip my mind easily these days, fade into the background of problems that aren’t my own. “Kei is coming with me.”

“Really?” he says in pleasant surprise, “I haven’t seen her in forever.”

Lucky you, I think to myself. “I’ll be gone for a while, if you could watch over everyone for me.”

“Anything you need.” He stops suddenly, and lets go of my arm, dipping his hands down into his jacket pockets. I feel my heart beat into the soles of my feet. “Kaede, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

But the ringer of my phone is on, and begins chiming at a wonderfully loud volume. I don’t ask Shigeri if I can take the call, and answer immediately.

“Kaedeee.” His whining never changes. “Come over. It’s important.”

“Are you dying?”

He scoffs largely. “As if.”

“Then, what could be so important?”

“Come over and you’ll see.”

I look at Shigeri, see him slowly remove his hands from his pockets. Why am I like this?” I ask myself. Why must I ruin a perfectly good thing? Shigeri is kind and affectionate. I feel safe with him, loved. The sensible thing would be to take the ring from his pocket and get on a knee myself, profess how unworthy I am of his goodness, yet I’m deliberately stalling the inevitable. “Okay, I’ll be there.”

“Gojo?” Shigeri says.

“Yes.”

He makes the same expression every time he hears his name, a halfhearted smile paired with a slow nod. But not once has he ever denied me of speaking with Satoru, or seeing him. Not a single complaint or question of what we do when alone. Trust of an incredibly dangerous degree. “Go ahead. I’ll see you once you’re back.”

It’s because of that blatant trust that I bring up, “Didn’t you have something you wanted to say?”

“It can wait.”

∞

Satoru’s apartment was on the umpteenth floor of a newly built complex. The air still smelled of paint and inside the lobby was a doorman who insisted on operating the elevator for you. I imagine he held his own twisted notions about Satoru and I, seeing as he’d lead me up to floor sixteen about twice a month, and watch me leave within the same night.

He opens the door before I can knock, “What took you so long?”

“Not all of us can teleport across the city.” He pulls me into the place, everything a cold gray color, the walls uncomfortably bare. You would hardly think anyone lived here. “What is it? What was so important?”

He hums in confusion, meaning he’d already forgotten the claims he’d made on the phone. “Oh, well, it’s been too long since I’ve seen you.” I’m ushered towards the couch, sat down on the firm and leather surface. “Tell me about things.”

It’s always the same. Calling when he pleases, engaging me in random tasks, listening to the nonsense of my daily life, and then he’s sated and I leave. Nothing I talk about is new either, curses, training, the higher ups getting on my nerves, and most of all my students. I brag of their achievements, no matter how they pale in comparison to his own. Satoru listens attentively, mentioning ideas for how I could better train everyone, his own upset comments on the higher ups. I remember when I confessed that Haruki died, he hugged me. It was the only time we’d had contact like that in years. “All of them will be great,” I say.

“You say that every year.”

“And I mean it every time.”

Satoru laughs at me, then softens. “You seem so happy when you talk about them.”

“They do make me happy.” I tell him in earnest, “I would give my life for them to not go through the things we did.”

“Those things made us strong.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” I say. “Lots of people can teach them to be strong, but I want them to see that this morally gray way of running things can be changed.”

“Changed into what?”

“I don’t know yet. But I realized it some time after seeing you with Megumi. It’s not about us anymore. You and I could kill everyone and take over the world, but the world won’t follow us. At least if we teach them, they’ll know the difference between right and wrong well enough that it’ll never come to that.”

Satoru yawns dramatically, stretching his arms out at his sides. “Sounds like a lot of work teaching a ton of brats.”

“Well, I guess it’s not for everyone.” But I know him, and I know that what he’ll never admit is that he loves people, brats and all. He probably loves them far more than me, feels it’s some kind of privilege to be surrounded by them, but he’s cut himself off from the world. Even from me. We’re all shadows to him now, chasing from behind, fading in the darkness. “Have you been seeing anyone else?”

Casually he says, “I haven’t been with anyone else since we broke up.”

“I meant friends.”

“Oh,” he looks at me with unease. “Only you, I guess. Shoko’s busy with school, and Nanami is gone.”

“I don’t want you to be alone too much.”

Satoru’s gaze pierces into me, even from behind the glasses. I notice then that he’s replaced his old ones, exchanged them for a slimmer, rectangular frame. “I don’t feel lonely.”

I felt content knowing that I still held some vestige of necessity for Satoru, that I could relieve him of the hard life he’s meant to lead. Then I realized it’s wrong to feel that way, to want to be necessary for him. As if he can hear my silent wanting, he leans in rapidly. We kiss for the first time in I’m not sure how long, and I immediately pull away. “I should go.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset.” I think to reach out, but refrain knowing the flame his touch would incite. “I have to catch a flight tomorrow morning. I want to say bye to my students before I go.”

When I stand up he quickly follows. “I don’t want you to stop seeing me because of this.”

“I’ll see you whenever you want, Satoru, don’t worry.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

∞

Guilt is the sole thing I feel as I return to campus. The sting of Satoru’s lips on mine lingers and incites a kind of irreparable passion I fight hard to ignore. Love like that, like the one we had, doesn’t ever disappear. It only quiets when you’re distracted, and roars at the simplest touch, a kiss. I’ll never experience a love like that again in my life, and maybe I’m not supposed to. Maybe I’m supposed to choose a comfortable love, one that doesn’t break apart everything I build up. I countered my guilt with sudden determination, When Shigeri takes out the ring, I’ll say yes.

Her shadowy figure enters my peripheral, “Can’t sleep?”

Runa’s already in a deep purple nightgown, her skin like a ghost’s in the moonlight. “I don’t usually sleep very much.”

She aligns herself with my stride. I notice she’s barefoot. “Why not?”

“Too many nightmares.”

“About curses?”

“About myself,” she says darkly.

“I understand.”

“What could you possibly understand about it?”

We come to a stop. She’s only half my size, frail in this light, eyes large. A sadness I hadn’t felt previously arises when I realize how devastatingly young she looks. “I’ve been in your position before.”

“Knowing you’re supposed to be stronger and still failing all the time?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Her gaze drifts to the ground. She’s angry. “You’re excessively strong. Both you and Gojo Satoru.”

Runa mentioning his name frightens me, like she knows the bad things I’ve done, the hurtful things I’m thinking. She’s waving it all in front of me. “I’ve failed a lot of people,” I tell her, “Gojo Satoru most of all.”

“You failed Gojo Satoru?”

“We were supposed to be the strongest together.” I don’t give Runa time to dissect the statement. In fact, I selfishly turn away and head towards the staff building. “You should know happens to the boys isn't your fault. Goodnight, Runa.”

I can’t linger on strength or Gojo Satoru any longer. It’ll ruin me, more than I’ve already been ruined. Shigeri is waiting for me in our room, I tell him I know about the ring, I tell him to let me wear it. 

**if you didn't notice the little easter egg, her students i.e. the three in the picture are the kids Nanami saved in JJK 0 :))

[bevswashere]

Koi No Yokan

Juju Stroll: The Call

Satoru arrives late in the evening, once again dissatisfied with the overly tidy appearance of his “home.” There’s nothing out of place, no clothes strewn about, or crooked photos to line the wall. A shell, husk, for him to exist in before leaving for the outside world again. His room at Tokyo High never looked like this. It was warm and lived in, most especially after Kaede began to stay—but it’s best not to think about Kaede at all when he’s alone like this.

His phone ringing in his pocket pulls him from his thoughts, an unknown number. Ignore. Missions will come from the same few numbers they always do, probably spam or some distant relative trying to bug him for money.

Satoru lets himself fall into his couch, expensive sure, but not used often enough for the cushions to sink. He thinks to watch a movie, maybe take a nap, something to let the hours go by until he’s needed again, but he does exactly what he’d told himself not to. “I wonder what she’s doing right now.” “Graduation just happened, didn’t it?” “Should I call to congratulate her? Text?”

The phone rings again, the same unknown number. He lets it pass. “I wonder if she’s going to pay for hire.” “It doesn’t seem very like her.” The same number tries to call again. “Leave a message if it’s that important,” Satoru groans, letting his head fall back against the couch, neck craned up towards the ceiling. “Maybe I could bother Nanami to find out how she’s doing.” The phone rings once again, and this time Satoru, patience lost, answers, “Hey! Stop calling me, you have the wrong—”

“I assume you already know where our main facility is.” Satoru turns to stone in his seat. How long had it been since he’d heard that voice? “She’s waiting for you at the front doors.” The call ends before he can get a word in, before Satoru can get past his heart beating out of his chest.

Satoru throws his head forward into his palms, tugging at the roots of his hair. “Idiot,” he scolds himself. He’d given up the world in an effort to break the ties these people held to him, the restraints that kept him from truly being the strongest. And yet, every time they step back into his life, he finds himself exactly where they had left him. Even during the get-together a couple weeks ago, “Why did I run to check up on her?” “Why did I pay attention to nothing other than her movements, her voice?”

“Why am I so weak?” 

[bevswashere]

Koi No Yokan

Chapter 30: Miss Fushiguro

December 2009 8 months later.

"I'm glad you took the time to meet with me, Miss Fushiguro."

"What did he do this time?"

"He stabbed his classmate with a pencil."

I look to the boy at my right, slumped in his seat with his arms folded as if he hadn't done anything. No, he knows he's done something wrong, he just doesn't care. "Why?" I ask him, not the principal.

"I told him to get out of my face," Megumi says. "I used the pencil when he got closer."

I sigh largely, massaging the center of my brow. "So, what now?"

"Your son is in consideration for suspension," the principal says. "I've brought up concerns about Megumi's behavior to your husband before—"

"He's not my husband."

The principal leans back in his seat, nods slowly, surely thinking two teenagers accidentally had a baby they can't control. Whatever the presumptions, they're better than the reality. "Your son has caused repeated disciplinary offenses, and is a danger to the rest of the students here. Expulsion isn't out of the question."

"We'll correct this at home," I try to say firmly. "Megumi will apologize to the boy he hurt."

Megumi immediately objects, "Who said I would—?"

"I wasn't asking."

The principal smiles. "Good, I hope we can get all of this in order."

We enter the parking lot, extremities tucked away in our coats to keep warm from the snow. "Seriously? A pencil?"

"Would you have preferred I use something else?"

We rush into the car and turn the heater on quickly. I breathe into my palms for warmth. "Is some other kid bugging you really so big of a deal you had to stab them?"

"It's not that he was bugging me," Megumi says, "He does it to a ton of the other kids too, pushing them around, taking what he wants from their lunches."

"Then tell your teacher, and have his parents meet with the principal." I pull out of the parking lot, back towards their apartment. "I'm not saying your intentions are wrong, but Satoru and I really don't have the time to keep going to these meetings."

"Then don't go."

Megumi, bundled in his coat, so small he barely takes up half of the seat, has his gaze fixed towards the window. "Would you prefer I say I don't care about your shit attitude, and just leave you alone?"

He doesn't answer me, and we remain silent for the rest of the drive.

∞

"You're late."

I sit myself down in one of the chairs of Yaga's office. "There was an emergency."

"You'll need to fix that habit by April."

"Spoken like a true principal."

"Let's try to be serious here, Kaede," he says. "Taking this job, you'll need to become a rock for these kids. That means no more lashing out, breaking furniture."

I defend. "I replaced all of it, didn't I?"

"If you're to lead young people, you can't act on your emotions like another young person. You need to be steady, reasonable." Yaga folds his arms. "And if a student dies, you move on, and teach the next one."

"That's harsh."

He takes a piece of paper out from his desk, and slides it across to me. "Order your uniforms, move your things into your new room and office. We'll go over matters of curriculum once that's done."

I unfold the paper to find only one line of text, an address. "You're sure this is right?"

"I'm nearly certain."

Taking the paper with me, I leave Yaga's office, only to turn back in the doorway, "Yaga Sensei."

"I'm not your Sensei anymore."

"Do you really think," I hesitate, "I can do this?"

"You're more than qualified."

"But am I strong enough?"

"Brazenly so."

∞

I boarded the soonest plane possible to Osaka, navigating my way into a run down condominium where the scent is sour and the dated wallpaper peels at the ends. I knock, wondering how long I would have to wait if no one is home, but I feel reassured by the steady flow of cursed energy growing closer to the door. I hear the door unlock from the other side before I'm met with wide green eyes. "How did you find me?"

"I called in a favor." I teeter awkwardly on my heels. "Can I come in?"

He opens the door wide, revealing the singular room apartment. All their clothes are neatly hung onto one rack, dishes and cookware piled in one stack by the dripping sink. A mattress is tucked away into the corner, across from it a fraying mattress pad, and between them one desk with books stacked beneath a short leg. "I know," Shigeri says, "What a fall from grace."

"Are you okay? You're eating enough?" Shigeri certainly looks thinner, more aged since we last spoke. "If you need money—"

"You came here to give me money?"

"No," I quickly defend, realizing how deplorable a person I must be, stepping into someone's home, expecting them to need money at first glance. "You stopped writing. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"The clan is still making things difficult for us." He rubs the back of his neck at the thought. "I couldn't be sure they wouldn't intercept anything I send, figure out where we're staying."

"You're already exiled. What more could they do?"

"They're already interfering with me taking any missions which would be the quickest way to get income." I can see the stress on his face when he says this, weighing him down, sinking his stature. "They could have us evicted, make us homeless for the rest of our lives."

"Why?"

"Spite," he says simply. "I was supposed to take over as head of the clan. They don't appreciate stepping away from a role like that."

"I should have found you sooner. I could have done something."

"I don't want your money, Kaede."

"Then I could have sorted things out with the Kamo clan."

"And how would you do something like that?"

"I could go there and threaten to kill anyone who messes with you."

"Since when do you kill people?"

I stutter at first. "I don't, but they wouldn't know that. Or I could arrange a way for you to get missions without interference. I'll talk to the higher ups–"

"Who will refer back to the Kamo clan saying Uematsu Kaede knows where I am." He smiles somehow. "It's okay."

I look around again, dissatisfied with the way things have turned out for someone so kind. "Where's your sister?"

"Working. When the clan cut me off from missions we both picked up part time jobs. I didn't want her to, but they're good to her anyway, give her meals to take home." He frowns. "Don't give me that look."

"I'm not giving you any look."

Shigeri steps closer, smiles in the soothing way he used to, where his eyes soften and only his top teeth can be seen. "You're pitying me."

"Of course I am. You're sleeping on the floor."

"Stop it." He takes both of his hands and rests them on my shoulders. "I'm okay, Kaede-chan, really. I know it doesn't look ideal, but we're getting through it."

I'm only half convinced. "There must be something I can do."

"You came here. That's enough." He pulls me towards the mattress pad. "Here, sit. Tell me what you've been up to."

We arrange ourselves, sitting side by side on his mattress pad. I'm relieved to find out it's well-cushioned at the least. "I'm going to start as the first-year teacher at Tokyo High in the spring."

"Really?" he says. "That's great. You love kids."

I hesitate at first to mention the Fushiguro's, or the deep despair I've tried to fight since graduation, or my attempt to join the cult of a mass-murderer, but honesty has always come easy between Shigeri and I. The second I confess one feeling, the rest pour out.

"Good thing he turned you away," Shigeri comments, "That could have been troublesome."

"I can't say I would have actually hurt anyone." The comforter above Shigeri's bed is soft, velvet. I find myself playing with the hems. "But there was nowhere else to go. All my family was gone, then my friends."

"What about Gojo-san?"

"Forget him."

"I'm sorry that didn't work out." I laugh at this. "Hey, I mean it. I never wanted you to get your heartbroken, even if it was by him."

"It's fine. It's been a long time since then." I look out through their singular window, see the snow sprinkle onto the sill, quietly, gently. "What if you came to work at Tokyo High with me?"

"Let's try to be serious about this, Kaede-chan."

"I am being serious." My eyes meet his, soothing like pine. "Yaga is still looking for a third year teacher. If you can't get missions for now, you'll still have income from teaching, and you guys wouldn't have to worry about housing anymore. Besides, I won't have to fly every time I want to see you." Whatever I had to say next is cut off when Shigeri leans in and kisses me.

It's short, lips locking for only a moment before he pulls away, "Sorry. I had to know what it felt like at least once."

I let him because it's reassuring in some ways, admitting everything I had done, and him still wanting to kiss me. "Try again."

He scans my face, taken aback. "You don't have to." So, I lean in this time, feeling the hair above his neck ruffle through my fingers, his hand on my cheek. It's unexpectedly pleasant. His lips move with a certain tenderness, hesitancy that's comforting, makes me want it more. Even when his lips trail down to my neck it's light and loving. "So," my breath grows heavier, "You'll come to Tokyo?"

His words vibrate into my collarbone. "If you want me there."

I lean into him, feel the flesh of his ear against my lips, "I want you there."

I reach for his chin, lifting it to reconnect our lips. Then by the center of his chest, my hand guides him backwards into the mattress pad. I get on top of him, leaning over to resume our kiss. When I grind myself against him, I can feel he's hard. He moans into my mouth, but breaks away, "Not like this."

"How do you want it then?"

Shigeri props himself up onto his elbows, reaches out to push the hairs away from my face. " I meant not here."

I understood, however disappointed I may feel, and remove myself from on top of him to lay down at his side instead. He wraps a hand around my jaw, stroking the skin with his thumb. "You'll really come to Tokyo?"

"I'll go wherever you want me to." 

[bevswashere]

Koi No Yokan

Chapter 29: Independence

March 2009 20 minutes later.

“I got my license last year,” Satoru answers a question I didn’t ask. The glass of the car window is cold against my forehead, the moon barely a sliver in the dark sky. “Well, I didn’t actually get the license, I just figured out how to drive the car without crashing it.” 

I’m hugging myself atop the leather seat. “How did you find me?”

“Oh that… well… Suguru called.” 

My eyes close in agony. I try to remember his embrace, but it’s fuzzy in my mind. Tainted in betrayal and a lack of sleep. “Such lengths he went to to get rid of me.”

“You should be glad he did,” Satoru says. “Having you on his side would be a tipping point. With you like this, he could have probably convinced you to kill anyone or turn the country upside down overnight.”

“He must really hate me then to give that up.”

“I don’t think hate is what would make him give up that chance.” 

I listen to the quiet hum of the car engine, watching the blur of trees and the city go by. “Would you have done it?” Satoru finally asks. “Killed people for him?”

“I don’t know.” 

We don’t speak again until Satoru parks the car on an unfamiliar streetside. Tan apartment complexes scale several feet up into the air, dozens of wires crossing between them, clothes dangling from the balconies. A single lamp flickers overhead. He opens the trunk, pulls out a stack of plastic covered clothing items. “Here, hold these.” 

I take them without objection, not bothering to ask where we are or why. In his own arms he appears to be carrying bags filled with groceries, cereals, eggs, rice wraps, and the like. He leads me into the nearby complex, up the stairs to the third floor, and knocks on a door marked 308. A girl, with a bright face, and hair loosely tied up to the crown of her head opens it. “Oh, Megumi, Gojo-san is here.” She helps him load the groceries onto the table, taking the cold items into the fridge. 

“Who are you?” Behind me, I see a kid, no more than five or six, staring, arms folded. 

“Megumi, this is Uematsu Kaede,” Satoru answers, placing the cereal atop the fridge, then onto the counter once he realizes they can’t reach. “A Jujutsu sorcerer—a very good one for that matter.” 

“Is she a better Jujutsu than you, Gojo-san?” the girl asks. 

“No, but she’s as close as they get.” He spots the plastics still in my arms, “Oh, that’s right.” He takes them, and lifts the plastic up to pairs of clothes in their size. “These are all clean now.” 

“Bringing strangers into our house,” the boy grumbles from behind. In some ways he reminds me of Tomiji, doing his best to speak like an adult. Tomiji was never this callous, though, at least not at this age. 

“You must go to Gojo-san’s old school then,” the little girl says. “You’re wearing the same uniform.” 

The screaming and crying has turned my voice into a gravelly whisper, “I just graduated.” 

“That’s so cool!” she grins. “Are you going to help train Megumi?”

“Megumi?” 

“She’s not here for that. This is just a visit.” Satoru notices the ten o’clock reading on the microwave, “Hey, it’s late. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“We were about to until you got here,” the little boy, Megumi, says, already leaving for one of the two small bedrooms. 

“Ignore him,” the girl tells me, leaving for the other room, “It was nice to meet you. Thank you for the things Gojo-san.”

“No problem,” he waves. “Good night.”

The doors close, and we’re left alone in the dimly lit kitchen, silent. “Have you eaten?”

It’s been over a day since my last meal, but I’m certain anything I could eat would only force its way back up. “I’m not hungry.”

“Suit yourself,” he takes a seat at the round dining table, looking up at me, waiting. 

I sit down with him, “Who are they?”

“Fushiguro Toji’s kids.” 

I hum in response. “How often are you here?”

“Once a week,” he thinks, “Sometimes less. I left a credit card with them in case I can’t get back in time.” 

The longer I sit, the further I sink into the hard wooden surface of the chair. My arms wrap around my cold, empty chest, aching with a variety of sharp pain. “That’s good.” I look around to the rest of the small place, Satoru’s influence obvious from the remnants of a gaming console, a designer backpack for school, and other luxury items strewn about the floor. It was vaguely nice to think Satoru has had something like this to occupy himself, to keep away the all consuming despair I understand too well. 

“Is this my fault?” he says suddenly. “You being like this, is it because of me?”

I take a deep, slow breath. “What if this is just how I am.”

“Eager to be a criminal?”

“Yes,” I say. “A lot can change in two years. Maybe it has nothing to do with you and this is what I want now.” 

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to kill everyone?” he says. “And why join Suguru to do something you could have done whenever you wanted.”

“Not everything has to be done alone.” 

“That’s what a weak person would tell themselves.” 

I scoff, eyes traveling to anywhere except where he sits, boiling tears begin to brim at the surface. A heavy, searing lump forms in the center of my throat, and I remember well the hatred I felt when I tried to cut our tether. “You’re really such an asshole,” I say, “All I’ve ever done was try to be strong for you, pushing myself to achieve the impossible so that neither of us would have to be alone, and you don’t even care. Nothing ever good enough—” I stop, and take another slow breath. There’s no point in saying any of it now, in trying to make him pity me for asking the world of me and then leaving regardless. 

“I really believed you could do it at first,” he says. “Be at my level.” I loathe the indifference with which he speaks, the casual way he treats my heartbreak. “Once I realized you couldn’t, I had to let go.” My fists clench until the knuckles turn white. “Besides, seeing me weeks, sometimes months apart isn’t right. At least this way you won’t have to wait around.” 

The anger I want to feel is indescribable, the deep seeded rage that used to overcome me when I first lost Momo and all the others. But the feeling never quite arrives. I’m too tired to make Satoru understand all the ways he has ruined me. “Is that all?”

“Do you want me to say more?”

I get up from my seat, and collapse down into the worn down couch by the tv, ready to sleep for the first time in two days. “I don’t want anything from you.” 

[bevswashere]

Koi No Yokan

Juju Stroll: Infinite Void

Men and women dressed in suits gave her odd looks as they passed by, a high schooler standing near the crosswalk for over two hours. Kaede waited patiently, pacing now and again when her feet would tire, until the third hour struck, and she finally sat down. Her limbs felt heavy, abused from the endless days of travel and missions. When a curse was exorcised, another would spring up halfway across the world, then another. She doesn’t remember falling asleep, until Satoru is there shaking her shoulder. The air had become cold, the light of the sun replaced by bright screens fixed to the sides of buildings. Her neck feels stiff. “What time is it?”

“Around eight, I think.”

They had agreed to meet around three. Kaede doesn’t make mention of it, though, and embraces him. “I missed you.”

He breaks apart from her, speaking excitedly, “I finally did it.”

“Did what?”

“Domain Expansion.”

“That’s,” she struggles to find the right word, “Good.”

“Come on,” he takes her hand, pulling her from the spot she’d been occupying for five hours, “I’ll show you.”

“What about dinner?”

“Dinner can wait,” Satoru pulls her through the crowded streets, turning a corner into a relatively vacant alleyway. Then without warning, he braces Kaede’s shoulders and teleports them into a woody area she doesn’t recognize.

The brief sensation of the air being ripped out and forced back into her lungs makes Kaede groan. “I told you to warn me when you’re going to do that.”

“Ah, right, sorry.” Satoru takes hold of her hand, raising his other. He crosses his middle fingers. “Domain Expansion: Infinite Void.”

Kaede feels the world around them slowly fade away, the ground slipping into nothingness, and the air turning still. She’d never been inside a completed domain other than her own, and loathed the helpless sensation. Everything in sight turns to bright light, bursting into clusters of fog and what looked like galaxies swarming amongst one another.

She feels the safe tug of his palm. “What happens if I let go?”

“Your brain gets fried,” he says, somewhat playfully. “The void rushes all the information of existence through you, lets you feel everything at once.”

“Making it nothing essentially,” Kaede concludes, noticing that like her own domain, Satoru’s is unusually cold.

“Isn’t it cool?” he says. “I finally figured it out on my mission this morning.”

Kaede stares out into the celestial abyss, “So this is what it’s like then? Being given the information the Six Eyes does, but not the tools to understand it.”

“I forgot how smart you are,” Satoru smiles. “I haven’t actively imbued any of my techniques. Most likely I’ll never have to.”

“Because our techniques are passive,” Kaede, feeling she’s been given too much credit, understands only because her innate domain works in a similar manner. Once inside, curses freeze because they can’t make sense of the broken down linearity of time. Only someone with the Forward Sight could make sense of the mess, directing these broken strands the way they pleased. “It’s a little… lonely, in here, don’t you think?”

“Well, we are the only ones here.”

“But inside your head,” Kaede says, “Do you feel lonely?”

Satoru releases his domain, exposing them to the open air. “Not when I’m with you, no.” Yet, he lets go of her hand when he says this, knowing he can’t stay for longer.

Kaede smiles weakly. “Well, I’m glad you figured it out. Are we going back to Shinjuku now?”

“I can drop you off there if you want, but I’ll have to get going after.”

“Where?”

“They called me in for a mission starting tomorrow morning,” Satoru says, in what Kaede’s eyes appeared to be, rather shamelessly. “Besides, I want to work out all the kinks in the Domain Expansion.”

The reality of the situation, in which she waited five hours for less than twenty minutes of her boyfriend’s time, does not occur to Kaede. She nods in feeble disappointment, and without complaint asks him to drop her off at the school instead.

[bevswashere]

Koi No Yokan

Chapter 28: After Graduation

March 2009 Two weeks later.

Graduation—a thirty minute meeting with all our instructors in which they handed us leather bound certificates, then told us to move out by the end of the month—was lackluster, to say the least. Then once it was over, I found myself unexpectedly saddened, stagnant. I realized there’s nothing left for me here, there hasn’t been for some time, and there’s also nothing to look forward to. No home to make a triumphant return, no family to share this occasion with. Nothing left to do except pack my things and wait for the wind to push me in the direction I should take.

I finish emptying my closet as Nanami knocks on the door, “I’ve finished packing,” he tells me.

“Already?” There’s two nights left before we’re expected to leave. Most of my things are tucked away in boxes, stuffed into a suitcase, with no destination in mind. The rest are spread out across the floor and piled atop my desk. “Are you sending them home?”

“Actually,” he opens the door wide and steps in. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about my plan.” He says, “I’m going into the city.”

“I figured.” The routes for Jujutsu are limited, an on-call sorcerer working from campus, a pay for hire like Mei-san or Satoru, or moving back with your clan to work from home. The third option was stripped from me some time ago. “Isn’t that why we’ve been packing all our stuff?” I finish folding the sweater in hand—an old birthday gift from Suguru, blue and soft—and force it into the suitcase. “I’ll go with you. There’s plenty of places in Tokyo.”

“No, I’m moving on from Jujutsu.” 

 I halt my efforts to fold my clothes. “What do you mean?”

Nanami takes a deep breath, lets his eyes focus on the floor. “There’s lots of starting jobs in finance that pay well. I’ve already found a place to put a deposit for rent. It’s not much but—”

“You’re leaving me?” 

“No.” He takes a step closer, puts his hands up in caution, hoping to repair a situation that’s already been ruined. “It has nothing to do with you, Kaede-chan. It’s this life, it’s tiring. I have no intention to be like Mariko, we can still see and speak with each other regularly, and if you need anything at all—”

“You’re leaving me.” I can’t think straight. The room has become small, narrowed down to my only friend left, a final lifeline to my humanity, and it’s being pulled away, drawn out into the distance until I can’t see him anymore. “What did I do wrong?” 

“You haven’t done anything. This isn’t about us.”

The air grows thin, pressing out of my lungs at too quick a rate. “Get out.”

”What?”

”Get out!” I scream. “GET OUT! Get away from me!” I push him by the shoulders until he’s out of the room, then slam the door shut.

”Kaede-chan,” he says from outside, “Let’s be sensible about this. I’m not leaving you.”

Somehow I’ve crumbled next to the door, cradling shaking limbs. “Everyone leaves.” I gasp for air, but can’t find it. The room feels so small, humid. There’s a deep seeded pain at the center of my chest, pulsating up into my throat. “Breathe,” I try to tell myself, “Breathe.” But I can’t, I can’t feel anything other than the overwhelming terror that everyone I love is gone. Dead or moved on. I’ve given everything to these people, and they’ve chipped off what they could, now nothing’s left. “Is this what it means to be strong?” I think. “To end up completely alone?”

With every shuddering breath, I feel the heartache I’ve stored away for years in its fullness. I pry myself up from the floor, vision clouded, hips crashing into the furniture that suffers the worst of my outrage. The closet door snaps off the hinges when my foot slams into it, the drawers of my dresser break to pieces when they collide with the wall, the mirror across from it shatters when my fist passes through. My entire room, everything, is destroyed at my hand.

I sink back down to the middle of the room, fragments of wood and glass all around. Tears spill down into the floor, desperate sputters for something to hold escape my lips. A parent, a sibling, a friend, someone. Someone who would just hold and not let go—but the hours go by, and the sun rises again. No one is here. 

The morning’s first rays of light break through the window, shining on my tear stained face, reflecting against the scattered shards of glass. “What’s wrong with me?” I wonder. “Am I that cursed that everyone around must think me unnecessary?”

The light catches a nearby glint of white. My hair, our tether, splayed across the ground. I run my fingers against the strand, remember it pressed between our hands, all the promises he never kept. I strangle it within my fist, “Asshole.” To think how hard I pushed myself to be strong, the hours spent waiting for him, listening to him speak to me as if he weren’t destroying my soul bit by bit. I love him so much that I hate him. I want him to suffer and experience the greatest happiness all at the same time. To never face me again, but crumble at my feet and beg for my forgiveness. 

There’s a pair of scissors lying on my desk. I drag myself towards it, unable to will my legs to work. With a swipe of my hand across the desk surface, several things including the scissors clatter to the ground. I place the white strand of hair between the blades, only for it to feel as if concrete had been placed between them. More tears spill out from my tired eyes, “No, please.” I sit up, squeeze down hard on the handles, until the scissors break in half and the white hair remains unscathed. “Please,” I beg to no one, hugging my knees into my chest, sobbing into the inner skin of my arm, where Suguru’s name scars my flesh. Ghosts haunting me at every turn. They’ve marked me, ruined me, and I would do anything for one of them to be here right now. 

∞

The sun is blaring above my head by the time I get there, marching up the marble steps, pushing through a line of ordinary people waiting to enter some kind of prayer room. I hear them whine as I pass, “Hey!”, “Wait your turn!” 

The wooden frame of the shoji clatters loudly when I open it. He’s there, sitting at the front of the room, curled up in the same costume I’d last seen him in two years ago.

Death to Fools Punishment to the Weak Love to the Strong

He lulls his head at me, “What do we have here?” 

Me, sleepless, angry, face stained with tears that refuse to cease, uniform covered in the faint wooden splinters of broken furniture. I let myself in, weight dragging each of my slow steps. I can see Suguru tense ever so slightly in his seat, readying himself, but when I reach where his platform meets the rest of the ground, I fall to my knees. 

“Manami-san.” A woman answers his call from the side door. “Cancel the rest of our appointments for today. Don’t let anyone else into this room.” She voices her agreement, and leaves, most likely to tell all those people I passed to go home. We wait there in our places as the commotion from beyond the doors slowly quiets. Suguru leans his elbow onto his knee, his jaw onto his fist. “Are you in need of a shaman?” 

“I’ll do anything you want.” I ball the fabric of my pants into my fists, fresh tears spilling out onto my cheeks. “If you want me to kill people… I’ll…. If that’s what it takes for someone to stay.” 

“Have you really exhausted all your options that it’s come to this?” 

There’s a difference in the way he speaks, his movements, an element of something manic that wasn’t quite there before. But I’m in no place to care, “Your love, friendship, whatever you want to call it, I thought it was unconditional.”

“For you?” Suguru pauses. “I suppose it was.”

“It’s not anymore?”

“You’re the one who walked in here offering to kill people for me.”

The tears drip down into my lap, eyes seal shut from the heavier sobs overcoming me. My whimpering echoes inside of this cold room, makes it sound more feeble somehow. Suguru sighs at my pitiful condition, “Shall I save you, Kaede-chan?”

My neck cranes back up towards him, smiling, a hand extended towards me. When I take it, he pulls me up onto the platform, and I collapse in his grasp. He cradles me, rocking me back and forth slowly as I continue to cry. “What’s that smell?” I sputter, picking up the scent of something chemical and lemon from his robe.

“Ah that,” he says. “A lot of these people like to hug me as thank you after these meetings. The spray’s to get rid of the monkey smell.” 

His voice is filled with a foreign disdain when he says it. Monkeys. I force myself not to react. “I see.” 

Suguru’s fingers stroke the top of my head, “You would really kill people for me?”

“If that’s what you want.” 

“You understand what this would mean, don’t you? They’ll name you a criminal. You’ll be at odds with everyone you’ve ever known.” 

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Is that so?” he hums, “My love is worth everyone else’s hate?”

My fingertips meet with the skin of his arms, buried beneath the robe’s thick sleeves. It’s soft, comforting. “I just don’t want you to leave.” 

“And what if I die? Who will love you then?”

“If you die, I’ll die with you.” 

I feel the stir of his chest when he laughs to himself quietly. His hand cups the back of my head, and he looks me in the eyes. “Are you done crying?” I nod. “Good, there’s something I want you to see.” 

Suguru guides me by the hand through the next door hallway, it’s vacant and bathed in golden light from the setting sun. “You know what my favorite thing has always been about you, Kaede-chan?” 

We turn the corner, and I grip his arm in the way a lost child would. “What is it?”

“You’re so honest,” he laughs to himself. “Even when you try to lie, your true feelings are always so obvious.” We turn another corner. “That’s how, when you said you’d die for me, I knew you weren’t lying. I truly,” he stops and pulls me into an embrace, “Love you for that.” 

When we break apart, he holds my chin in his hand, amber eyes crinkling as he smiles. “My Kaede-chan.” I see the walls around us more clearly now, the doors. I begin to sob again when he kisses my forehead.

“Please don’t do this.” 

“I love you.”

“Please.” 

Suguru grabs me roughly by the shoulders, pushing me through the front doors with such force that I stumble to my hands and knees. I scramble to rush towards the door, but, “No, please wait!” it closes in my face. “Suguru!” I scream, fists pounding against the doors. “SUGURU! PLEASE!” These doors are far more sturdy than anything in my room, but not impossible to break down. It wouldn’t make a difference if I forced my way in, though, I need him to welcome me in this pitiful state, to want me here. “Suguru. Please let me in. I have nowhere else to go. Please. I’ll do whatever you want! I’ll kill non-sorcerers and anyone else you want me to! I’ll do anything! SUGURU!”  I scream and cry iterations of this, until my voice goes hoarse. The sun has fully set, and there’s a chill in the air making my body shiver. My fists, too weak to clench, rest against his door still, tears dripping into a small puddle by my knees. Hours have passed. “Please.” 

“You know, if anyone finds out you were here, they’ll have you executed.” 

“Turn me in then,” I say weakly, “You’d be doing me a favor.” 

“I would, but chance is they’ll sentence me too for coming here.” 

I barely glance over my shoulder where Satoru is standing yards away. “Poor you.”

[bevswashere]

Koi No Yokan

Chapter 27: Before Graduation

March 2009 Nearly two years later.

“A beer for me. And you two?” Patiently she looks at us, and the waiter follows suit. “Don’t be shy now. Your Senpai’s are splitting the bill for your twentieth birthday tonight, Kaede-chan.” 

“Oh.” Mei Mei neglects to acknowledge that we’re both still eighteen, wearing our high school uniforms on a Friday evening. She also neglects to point out that my birthday isn’t for another couple weeks, and she probably won’t be one of those Senpais covering the bill. “I guess a beer for me too.

“Me as well,” Nanami says. 

When the waiter leaves, Mei Mei’s lips thin into an alluring smile, painted in a deep shade of red, “For a special grade you sure seem to buckle under the pressure when breaking the rules, Kaede-chan.” 

The fabric of my pants ball up into my fists, growing clammy with sweat. I hadn’t realized how long it’s been since I’ve interacted with someone other than Nanami, let alone a group. “I’m not used to it.”

“Really?” she folds her arms above her chest. “You should practice it more. It might prove useful for you once you’re out in the real world.”

“She won’t need it, Mei-san,” Shoko says, a nicotine patch affixed to her inner wrist. “Kaede-chan’s seen plenty of the real world. She’ll be perfectly fine.”

“I’m sure, but it can never hurt,” Mei Mei says. “In a lot of cases it’s safer to break the rules, don’t you think, Ieri-chan?”

“I don’t know about safer,” Shoko sighs. She’s grown her hair out. “Easier maybe?”

Past the four of us, the table is lined with Utahime Senpai, Chihiro, several of the kids I knew from Kyoto, and other freelance workers with close ties to the technical schools. All part of some unofficial get-together we’ve been thrown into. 

I can tell Nanami is uncomfortable too. The past year has made us quite averse to other people, being constantly sent out overseas, avoiding our underclassmen whenever we’re back. Every time I walk past them I can tell they’re intimidated. Perhaps they think us cruel or snobbish, giving the time of day only to semi-first grades or higher. They can think whatever they want. At least Nanami or myself won’t have to mourn them if they die. Most of the time we hide away in his room. Nanami will read, and I’d keep myself present, sleeping or on a computer or whatever else. Then we’re sent away again. We isolated ourselves, sure, but like Shoko said, it’s “easier.”

“Uematsu-san.” A boy from Shigeri’s graduating class in Kyoto calls out to me from the middle of the table. “I heard you recovered one of Ryomen Sukuna's fingers the other day.” 

“Another one?” Mei Mei hums. “You know those are supposed to be incredibly hard to find.”

“Really?” I wipe my hands against my clothes. “It doesn’t seem that way.” 

Some of the people at the table snicker when I say this. Kei, the former Kyoto student now working as a grade one freelancer, comments, “It is strange, though, how the same person has recovered all five fingers herself. You would think they’re almost drawn to you.” 

When I feel their eyes on me, I focus on Nanami’s. The higher-ups' plans to keep all of it a secret changed shortly after Suguru defected. They let the news circulate, then the rumors. I realized then that the plan was never about controlling the chaos, but about controlling me. My movements, my ambitions. Leaving me under a spotlight to keep me unsuspect, instead of festering in the shadows as he’d done. 

A new window for Tokyo, sitting next to Chihiro-chan, innocently asks, “Why would they be drawn to Uematsu-san?”

“Who’s to say?” Kei shrugs. “Those fingers are fragments of Sukuna’s soul. It’s possible they could recognize her and make themselves known when she’s near.” 

“Or it’s all one big coincidence,” Shoko says, restlessly chewing on the straw of her drink. 

“Do coincidences really happen five times?” Kei says, as the front door rings and someone announces, “Oh, Gojo-san!” 

I feel my heart drop, turning my head to see him come through the front door, the frames of his glasses, the hooded sweatshirt I used to borrow. He smiles and he waves at everyone.

“We can leave,” Nanami whispers.

“It’s fine,” I lie, and Mei-san smiles when I make the request, “Do you think you could order something a little stronger for me?” 

I think it started when Satoru graduated last year. He opted for the freelance route outside of Tokyo High, instantly bombarded with mission after mission, curse after curse. Sometimes it would take him weeks to come home, only for me to be assigned overseas. By the time I’d come back, he’d be gone again, and the cycle continued. When we were together, it became harder to steer the conversation away from anything Jujutsu or strength involved. 

I stir at the mention of his name. "What about Shigeri?" I say carelessly to someone across the table I'd never spoken to previously.

"You haven't heard?" Kei pauses, scoffs. "Well, of course you haven't. He abandoned the Kamo clan all of a sudden. Took his sister with him and everything." 

I digest her words slowly, thinking about the letters we'd send back and forth. Until those inevitably slowed and faded away just as everything does. "Is he okay?"

"Who knows?" Kei takes a sip of her beer. "Nobody's heard from him for four months now." 

I stayed in Satoru's room until it ended. I’d sleep in his bed, wear the clothes and watch the movies he’d left with me to help distract myself from his absence. But eventually, it became too great to ignore. We’d set up times to meet, and Satoru, who used to always be early to see me, started showing up later and later, canceling at the last minute. One of the last times it happened, I remember waiting in Shinjuku for so long that I fell asleep on the pavement. When Satoru finally arrived, he said nothing about being late or my sleeping on the side of the street, because he was too caught up in finally figuring out Domain Expansion. All of our plans were canceled that night so he could demonstrate this for me, and then leave a few hours later. 

The next time we set up to meet, I waited for hours again only for him to never arrive. So I went back to the school, back to his room, and I remember not even feeling angry. I understood somehow that he was busy. After that, I didn’t see him again for two months. 

Mei-san refills her glass and then mine with another round of shochu. “You should slow down,” Nanami tells me.

Our glasses clink as we cheers, then the glasses are empty once again. “You should respect your elders.”

“Elder by three months.” 

My words spill over one another. “And five days.”

He sips his second beer, “I don’t want to hear anything about you feeling sick later.” 

I thought drinking might make it easier to sit at this table with Satoru, easier to ignore him speaking with Kei for the past hour. I thought it might make me forget all the anger and hurt I harbor towards him. Instead I feel all of the heartache tenfold, and compare myself to the beauty of Kei, wondering how long before he’ll see it too. The thought sickens me, not the alcohol. 

“Excuse me,” I get up from the table, and stumble into the bathroom, dipping my head down towards the sink to rinse my face with cold water. 

After not hearing from him for two months, Satoru came to Jujutsu High unannounced and said, “I think it’s time we called this off.”

“What did I do?” was the first thing I remember wanting to ask. “Is there something wrong with me? Am I not strong enough?” We hadn’t slept together in a long time, but “Is sex too dull with me? Is it my shoes, my hair, anything in between? Is it the way I speak or that I’m not speaking enough? Tell me. What did I do? What have I done to make you not love me anymore?” But I didn’t say any of that, or anything at all. I walked away without uttering a single word.

I press the bathroom door, let it swing open as I step out and feel an arm immediately hold me steady. It’s a warmth I haven’t felt in a year. “Did you throw up?” I look up at him, feel his palm press against my forehead. “What’s wrong with you? You know you can’t handle your alcohol.” 

I’m staring at him. The perfect outline of his face and the way his hair spills down into it. The rose tint of his lips and the way one of his ears is slightly more pointed than the other. “Why are you talking to me?”

His hand falls from my face, “I was worried about you.”

I stare and stare, until Nanami comes to my rescue and pulls me back to reality, “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

“I can help get her home,” Satoru offers.

“No, we can handle it.” Nanami places my jacket in my arms, and slowly I feel Satoru let go of me, as I’m led out of the restaurant and back into the open air. 

“You can stay here tonight in case there’s an emergency.”

I fall down on the edge of his bed. “Why can’t I be in love with someone more like you?”

“Someone who could love Gojo Satoru couldn’t possibly be in love with someone like me,” he answers diplomatically, lining his shoes up neatly besides the dresser, “It makes no logical sense.” 

“Logic isn’t the point, though.” I remove my shoes and let him set them next to his own. “Something’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” He takes out a shirt and joggers from his closet, “You can’t control being in love with an idiot,” then pulls a second pair out. “Clothes?”

I stretch my arms out, and the clothes land in my grasp. Facing other ends of the room, we change out of our uniforms, then Nanami turns the light off and we lay down with our heads on opposite ends of the mattress. 

“Don’t let me drink again.”

“I told you to slow down.” 

“Well, we both know by now I can’t make good decisions,” I groan. “From now on you make all of my decisions for me.”

“I don’t want that responsibility.”

“What?” I whine, poking his calf next to me. “Why not?”

“I’ll kick you,” he warns. “Too many people rely on you.” 

“No one relies on me.” Silence settles between us in the darkness. “Do you think it’ll be more like this once we graduate?” I ask. “We won’t have to be by ourselves all the time? 

“I don’t know.” He sighs deeply. “Kaede, about after graduation…”

“Oh, did you decide if you’ll stay on campus or not?” A decision that’s crossed my mind more frequently as graduation approaches. I figured whatever Nanami decides would steer my decision too. He doesn’t answer me, though. “Nanami?”

“We’ll talk about it another time,” he says. “Go to sleep, Kaede-chan.” 

[bevswashere]

@bevswashere on ao3!!

I finally made my ao3 account, so if you prefer reading on there (or on Wattpad depending on the format you like) all the Koi No Yokan chapters have been posted. User is the same on all platforms.

[bevswashere]

Koi No Yokan

Juju Stroll: In Another Life

warning: this chapter contains sexual content, read at your own risk!

“Kaede-chan.”

She feels his fingertips comb through her hair, stirring as he repeats her name. “What time is it?” 

“Seven-thirty.”

Despite his efforts to speak softly, her body shoots up, “Tomiji—”

“It’s okay. He left already. You know he likes to walk on his own.” 

The urge to chastise Tomiji’s stubborn want for independence is clouded by her appreciation that he took the initiative to go to school at all. For a long time, it seemed an impossible argument. Many things had seemed impossible for the trio. “What about you? Shouldn’t you be leaving soon?” 

He returns to his place next to her in the bed. “Ito-sama’s not opening the shop until eleven today.” 

“You’re here for the morning then?”

“Yeah,” he sees the look on her face, feels the wavering anticipation ripple through his skin, “I am.” 

He leans in first, kissing her impatiently as they fumble to remove one another’s clothes. Kaede places herself in his lap, writhing against him slowly as his teeth sink into her collarbone. She’d never had sex with another man, but feels certain no one could make her feel like this. No one’s shoulders would fit into her palm so perfectly, or guide her hips through every motion the way he can. 

Eventually, Kaede runs her fingers into his silky hair, using it as reins to guide his lips back to hers. One of his hands leaves her hips, reaching for that most sensitive spot between her legs. The one he, himself, helped her discover their first night together. She whimpers into his mouth, movements growing erratic, both of them working hard to chase the rush that sets every nerve on fire. 

Kaede's hands reach for the headboard behind him, using it to help her tiring legs, weakening as his finger runs rough circles on her clit. 

“You look so beautiful right now,” he manages to breathe out.

Kaede’s always thought of herself as plain, but he’s the only person who’s ever told her—convinced her— otherwise. She can’t imagine a world in which he lied to or wronged her. The only future she could foresee is next to him, exactly like this. 

“You look beautiful too, pretty boy.” She kisses him, feeling him grin at the sound of the nickname. Then she has to pull away, bury her nose into the crook of his neck. Kaede’s close, and wants to feel every warm inch of his body against hers when she comes.

He senses this, moving his finger faster than before as he draws his hips up to meet hers. It grows more difficult to hold out so that she can finish too.

Finally, her whole body tenses above his, nails digging deeply into the skin of his back as she whispers his name again and again, begging him not to stop. The desperation in her voice sends him over the edge too. 

For many minutes, the two remain like this, sweaty bodies slumped against one another as they catch their breath. 

Kaede pulls her chin out from his shoulder and rests her damp forehead against his. She’s unsure what to say, but his lilting voice fills the breathy silence, “Kaede?”

She hums in response.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Huh?” She’s revitalized by the phrase, pulling away to stare. In disbelief, “You mean that?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“No, but,” she can’t wrap her head around it, how he could have any woman he wants, yet he chose her, “You love me.”

He holds the sides of her face. “Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay,” she tries to laugh, but it comes out weak. “I—” 

“You don’t have to say it.”

“But I am,” she makes clear, “With you. Suguru.”

Spring 2009 Three years after Fushiguro Toji’s attack. 

It started five months ago, when a regular customer at Suguru’s work gave him her phone number. 

With the estate’s funds placed solely under Kaede’s name, there was no need for them to take up jobs. They had enough money to last a few generations, should any of them bother to have kids. After the initial year in Nagano, inside their isolated home at the quietest edge of the countryside, Suguru decided he would take up work regardless. With Tomiji finally opening himself up to trying school, and Kaede appearing stable enough to be left on her own, he sought out Ito-sama, one of the town’s bookstore owners, kind enough to  hire a clerk without high school credentials. The work was mundane, eventless most of the time, but it got him out of the house, gave him something else to think about other than what they’d left behind. 

They arrived in Nagano, broken down kids, drowned in a sea of death. Tomiji was often confused, angry, unable to see the reason in his ever-shifting lifestyle. Suguru wasn’t angry, so much as he was lost. His entire belief system of protecting the weak crumbled at his feet, and there was nothing left for him to do except move on, find something new to believe in. Kaede was simply inconsolable. She didn’t like to speak of Satoru, or think about all the things she’d been meaning to say. The things she kept to herself because she assumed they had so much time left. He haunted her at every corner, though. His laughter erupting from a crowd of passersby, his scent clinging to the fabric of her clothes. There had even been times where she could swear he was there, standing at a distance, watching. 

Still, the passing of time allowed them to settle into their lives of tranquility, more or less. What was unbearable sorrow numbed into a dull pain. The term Jujutsu had been long forgotten. Tomiji was now a well-loved student, excelling in his classes, taking up pitching for his school’s baseball team. Kaede had gained the motivation to find hobbies and interests. She started a vegetable garden in the backyard, baking, even woodworking to build several pieces of their furniture. She discovered she liked citrus and freshly cleaned sheets. She liked sitting with Suguru after dinner, watching evening programs or reading the books Ito-sama would let him take home. Suguru equally enjoyed his time spent like this, he enjoyed his work, and interacting with customers in the shop—and now he had this number.

“Are you going to call her?” Kaede asked. 

“I don’t know. What do you think?”

“What is she like?”

Suguru shrugged. “She’s pretty, likes a lot of the same things I read… and she’s funny, I guess.” 

Kaede remained silent for a moment, unable to place the strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. Not sadness, perhaps fear. “I want you to do whatever makes you happy.”

Suguru seemed unsure of what to say as well. After a few lethargic moments, “I suppose I’ll call her.”

The following week, he arranged a date as he said he would. Tomiji was still at baseball practice. The house felt unusually still. Typically, Kaede enjoyed this vacant silence. She would tend to the garden, read, or do anything that provided space for her thoughts to defray. This day, however, hung over her head like a rumbling storm cloud.

Kaede found herself seated inside one of the town’s bars, nursing a cold beer. There was a baseball game playing on the television, but she was hardly paying attention. She wondered how long this tepid sensation would last. 

Someone sat down next to her. A man, no less than ten years older from what she could see. He wore a freshly pressed suit, and had the faint tanline of a ring wrapped around his second to last finger. “You like baseball?” he asked.

She half-heartedly entertained his attempts to make conversation, letting him buy her a drink, and then another. When she felt reasonably drunk, he asked if he could take her home, and she said yes. 

Suguru was the one who opened the door when they arrived. Quickly, the expectant grin on the man’s face faded away. “Who are you?” he asked.

“Her boyfriend,” he lied, with so much conviction Kaede’s inebriated mind thought it might be true. “Who are you?”

The man’s expression turned sour. “Maybe you shouldn’t let your girlfriend sneak off to bars by herself,” he scoffed, promptly getting into his luxury car and driving away.

Suguru closed their door. “You went to a bar?”

“The one by the soba place,” Kaede stated shamelessly. 

“How could you let yourself go home with a random guy,” Suguru frowned. “That’s dangerous.”

That made Kaede giggle, wave a finger in Suguru’s face as she said, “I may be rusty, but I could still kill him with my pinky finger if I wanted to.” 

“You scared me,” Suguru sighed. Any anger quickly left him because he remembered she’s right. Kaede is the most dangerous in the room—in any room, most likely. He guided her back into their kitchen, pouring a glass of water for her. “I know you can take care of yourself, but still, to be drinking in the middle of the day…”

“It’s her death anniversary today,” Kaede said, “My mom.”

Suguru was immediately filled with immense guilt. How could he not remember something so important? “I’m so sorry, Kaede-chan.” He set down her glass of water, and reached for her face, flushed from the alcohol. “I can’t believe I left you by yourself today. I should have known—”

“It’s not up to you,” Kaede reached for his face as well, feeling the softness of his skin against her palm. “She’s not your mom, not your problem.”

“Still,” he frowned deeply, “I should be here for days like this.”

“Forget about it.” She let go of him as she asked, “Tell me about your date.”

He let go too. “I thought it would be different.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t realize how little of myself I can share,” Suguru said. “She’d never be able to understand what we’ve been through.”

“No one will understand what we’ve been through,” Kaede said.

“Except for us,” Suguru added, in such a way that it made Kaede’s heartbeat quicken.

“Time will go on,” Kaede offered, “Eventually you’ll have plenty of things to share about yourself that aren’t Juju…” She couldn’t even say it. It burned like fire on her tongue. “Don’t give up. You have so much to offer a woman.”

“You’re a woman,” Suguru said. 

Kaede felt the heat of a spotlight warm her face. She didn’t care for opportunities like these where his words could be so easily misconstrued. Their companionship felt irreplaceable, sacred. The growing frequency of lingering gazes, unnecessary contact, and conversations like these threatened to shatter that. 

Tomiji arrived home before more could be said. Kaede hid away in her room, claiming to be under the weather, so as not to let him find out she drank. 

A few nights later, the two continued on as if nothing were different. They sat in the living room, basking under the yellow glow of a table lamp, reading Ito-sama’s books. Suguru loved poetry and nonfiction, but Kaede found herself partial to science fiction and murder mysteries. The guilt was suffocating, but she was partial to him most of all. His amber eyes that softened as he listened, his gentle hands, the way he accepted Tomiji as if he were a brother of his own. 

His body against her back seared at the touch, his arm thrown over her shoulder, carelessly landing on her stomach. Every once in a while his fingers would twitch above her shirt, and her breathing would cease.

Kaede hated to notice such things. She hated the idea of any other man entirely. 

“Are you okay?”

Kaede looked up from her book. Suguru was staring at her, instead of his own. “I’m a terrible person.” 

“Why are you saying that?”

“Living like this when S…” None of his name could leave her lips. It got caught in her throat as it does every time, forcing her to feel as if the world were ending. “Feeling like this about you.”

“You’re not a terrible person,” Suguru said rather solemnly. “Or maybe we’re both terrible people.”

In this way, the two had made their feelings clear. It settled in the air like the last wisps of a fire dying in the night winds, crackling into embers that merely fade into dust. 

Like the terrible people they thought themselves to be, Suguru kissed her before she went to bed that night. He held her thin frame against his, tasting the sweetness of her lips for as long as she would allow. He kissed her again the day after, and all the days that followed, until one night, when Tomiji stayed at a friend’s house, they slept together for the first time.

Kaede admitted the truth to Tomiji the minute he came home. She spoke candidly with him, avoiding any flowery language as he preferred. She asked for his input and carefully considered it. She spoke to him the way he’d wish for, as an adult. For this, Tomiji responded rather calmly, with few complaints, reacting as he felt a grownup would.

When she asked him if she should feel bad, he didn’t understand. “About what?”

“Because of Sa…” Still impossible.

Tomiji frowned. “He died over three years ago. Stop torturing yourself.”

But that's the thing. He died three years ago. That is the torture.

Following their passionate morning, Kaede spent her day as she usually would: tending to the vegetables in the backyard, sanding a birdhouse she’d made and hanging it on the porch. She took a trip down into the village, collecting ingredients for today’s dinner and tomorrow’s breakfast.

As she sorted through the market’s bin of tomatoes, feeling for which would be most ripe, it happened again. In the space between the stalls, she saw him. Satoru. His figure was distant, but unmistakable. He watched her as he always does, hands in his pockets, expressionless. He holds Kaede’s gaze for some time, until a tomato bursts in her hand, and she returns to reality.

Kaede thought of him quietly for the rest of the afternoon, his arms around her each night and how it felt the one time they’d kissed. She replayed their private conversations and the absurd things he’d say in public. She looked up at the sky, seeing his eyes among the clouds. 

The front door opens, while her hands rinse vegetables in the sink. Suguru embraces her from behind, chin resting in the crook of her shoulder. She asks him about work, to which his response is, “The same.”

“Are these all from the garden?” He refers to the basin of newly washed peppers, cucumbers, and tomatoes. 

“Not the tomatoes.” The memory of the crushed tomato burns in her palm. The thought of Satoru watching them. “Ours aren’t ripe yet, so I had to go to the market.”

Suguru’s hands start to glide to new destinations. One opens the top few buttons of her shirt, slipping beneath the fabric to trace shapeless figures into her bra. The other opens the hem of her jeans, reaching between her legs until his fingers are inside of her. Her head falls back into his shoulder, neck open for him to press his lips to. Kaede’s breath becomes heavy, “My brother.”

“He won’t be home until later. I gave him cash to get dinner with his friends.” 

Suguru’s fingers curl. Kaede combs a hand back into his hair. “Didn’t you get enough this morning?”

His words vibrate into the skin of her neck. “You think I could ever get enough of you?”

His fingers fasten as a knock sounds at their door. They ignore it. “I love you,” he whispers.

Kaede’s lips are parted, turning painfully dry with every sharp inhale of her lungs. “Suguru.”

A second set of knocks, louder than the last interrupt the moment. Reluctantly they separate. “Wash your hands,” Kaede says, fixing her clothes as she heads for the front door. She clears her throat, steadies herself, but when the door opens, her body turns cold. A scream claws up the walls of her throat, but doesn’t sound. Her hands tremble violently as she lets go of the door. She nearly stumbles as she takes multiple, slow steps backward. 

“It’s been a while.”

The inevitable has finally found her. She’s completely lost her mind. 

“Su…” Kaede is shaking too much to find her voice. “Suguru,” she calls out, taking another step back. “Suguru!”

He hears the fear in her voice from the kitchen, “What is it?” rushing to her side, only to freeze, heart pounding out of his chest. 

Neither of them blink, too afraid that if they close their eyes, even for a moment, he would disappear. 

“This isn’t real,” Kaede tells herself. “You’re seeing things. You always do.”

Tomiji’s old katana is mounted on the nearby wall. Kaede grabs it by the blade, hurling it forward as it tears through the flesh of her palm. When it stops midair, inches from the space between Satoru’s eyes, she falls to her knees. 

“Not the hostile response I was expecting,” he says in the playful voice she’d been imagining for three years. 

Satoru had been watching her the entire day. Observing from a safe distance as she toiled under the sun and ran around her own home. Watching through the window by the sink, as his best friend came home and began touching her in the way Satoru had dreamed of touching her since they met. “How long have they been doing that?” he wondered, “Did it feel good?” 

Satoru makes himself comfortable in the armchair across the couch, where Suguru wraps Kaede’s hand in a towel before sitting noticeably far away from her. “So, what have I missed?”

“Don’t be like that, Satoru,” Suguru says “We thought you were dead.”

“So, you ran away?”

Neither of them answer. Despite waiting years to see Satoru with her own eyes again, Kaede can’t even look up from the reddening towel in her palm. 

“Whatever, that’s not what I’m here to discuss,” Satoru waves his hand, “A lot of people are looking for you two. It’s almost impressive how well you covered up your tracks. We didn’t figure it out until Tomiji’s name showed up on a school roster out in the middle of nowhere.” 

Kaede’s urge to crawl out of her own skin grows stronger by the minute. “How are you here?”

“Like I said, we finally picked up on your location. Shoko investigated the area first to make sure it wasn’t—”

“No,” Kaede’s teeth grit, “How are you here?”

“Ah, that.” Satoru taps his own temple a few times. “Reversed Curse Technique. I figured it out at the last second.”

Suguru realizes, “You killed Fushiguro Toji.”

“I did,” Satoru says, “And all the Star Religious Group followers who were there to see the Star Plasma Vessel’s body that day.”

Their ears prick up to the same detail. Kaede finally gains the courage to lift her head, as Suguru voices his disbelief, “You what?”

“You would have seen me if you had bothered to go inside the building.”

Kaede’s voice wavers. “You… killed them?”

Satoru pauses the extended thought he was in the midst of, “Huh? Oh, yeah.”

A sick feeling erupts in her stomach. “Why?”

“Don’t give me a hard time about it,” he whines. “Yaga did that already—Oh, that’s right. He’s principal now, can you believe it?”

“Satoru,” his name leaves her lips for the first time in years. “Why?”

The proud stance holding his body upright seems to sink slightly. “You didn’t hear the way they were cheering.” 

The next breath leaves Kaede’s lungs slowly, unevenly. “How could I have left?” she asks herself. “Why didn’t we check the building before running away? How could I have left him alone like this?”

“Anyway,” Satoru’s voice lightens, “Vacation’s over. Time to come back.”

“What do you mean?” Suguru says.

“What do you think I mean? Jujutsu,” he says clearly. “Enough of this ‘playing house’ routine.”

“All of them were non-sorcerers?” Kaede asks.

“Yeah,” he says impatiently. “Does that matter?” 

Kaede studies him carefully. The same overly long limbs and hair that thickens at the back of his head, but something’s changed, snapped. He’s crossed lines he can’t return from, become blind to the consequences of his own power, pulsing through the room in a suffocating cloud. Satoru’s the strongest, that’s for certain, but at what cost? 

The Satoru she had known three years ago, the one who wouldn’t bother asking them to come back if he thought they were happier this way, is gone. Left with Kaede and Suguru when they ran away. 

“Come back,” Satoru says. “We could be together again, the three of us.” 

Boiling tears form at the brim of Kaede’s eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. “No, I’m sorry.” 

“You’re serious?”

“I’m so glad you’re alive. It’s all I’ve been able to think of since we left,” she confesses, “But Tomiji is happy with the life we’ve built here. I can’t waste that.” 

“And are you happy?” Satoru looks between the two of them from behind his glasses, “With the life you’ve built here?”

“I am. The life we had before,” Kaede’s fist clenches around the stained towel, “I’m not strong enough for it.” 

“Suguru?”

“I promised to keep Kaede and Tomiji safe.” Unlike Kaede, Suguru keeps his eyes trained on Satoru. He wants him to understand the depth of what he has to say, “I’m not leaving them.” 

Satoru is quiet for one moment, then another, until he bursts up from his chair, voice cheery and unbothered, “Well, that sorts that!”

Suguru and Kaede stand up with him. Her voice trembles, “You’re not angry?”

“My best friends are happy,” he says nonchalantly. “Why would I be angry?” He watches them again, the odd way they stand apart. “You two look good together, by the way.” 

Kaede stumbles over her next words, feeling a shameful warmth spread across her chest. Suguru’s sentiment is the same internally, but he keeps his voice steady, “Thank you, Satoru.” 

“I’ll show myself out,” he says, looking over his shoulder before he can disappear in their hallway, “I’ll be back sometime, let’s get dinner!” 

“That would be nice,” Suguru says. 

Kaede’s eyes linger on him even as he disappears around the corner. Suguru watches her carefully, sees the hesitation in her body as they hear the door shut. Then, without warning, she runs. 

She rips open the front door, “Satoru, wait!” 

His tall figure turns back around, “What is it?” 

Everything she’s wanted to say to him in the past three years is stuck at the tip of her tongue. “Nothing, it’s just….” She can’t say any of it. There’s no point. “I missed you.” 

Satoru smiles. “That’s good to hear.” His pompous response doesn’t fail to make her heart lighten. “I’ll see you around,” he lies.

Kaede swallows the growing lump in her throat, and forces a smile, “Yeah, see you around,” she says, even if she knows it’s a lie. 

Then the door closes, and Satoru is gone all over again. 

Kaede aches with every step back into the living room. “You scared me for a second,” Suguru says. “I thought you might leave with him.” 

“He won’t come back,” her voice breaks. “I had to say goodbye. You know, properly this time.” 

Suguru pulls Kaede into his safe arms, brushes the hair away from her face. “Are you okay?”

She takes a deep breath, and nods, “What about you? I’d understand if you wanted to go with him. Are you sure you want to stay here?” 

Suguru kisses her forehead, and pulls her into a hug. “I have everything I need right here.” 

Kaede’s hands press into his firm back, taking in deeply the mossy, sweet scent of him. “That’s a relief.” 

In the back of her mind, though, Kaede can’t help but wonder, if in another life, one where she and Suguru hadn’t left, would she have been able to keep the both of them. 

[bevswashere]

Koi No Yokan

Chapter 26: Come Back to Me

August 2007 4 days later. 

“Good morning!” The door clattered hard against the wall. He was there, sleeping, hair mussed against his pillow. “It’s noon,” I told him. “Everyone’s looking for you.” 

I remember a sound leaving his throat, something like the purr of a cat. “Come on,” I got onto the bed, and shook his body back and forth. “We’re supposed to be training right now. Oh?” He grabbed me, and pulled me onto the mattress next to him. I saw the drowsy look on his face, darkened eyes still peacefully shut. “Suguru?” I whispered, “Are you okay?”

I remember the feeling of him burying his nose into my collarbone, the deep exhale that fanned into my skin. “Okay.” I remember combing through his long, soft hair. “I get it.” 

Then Satoru came in, “Oh, you found him.”

I waved him over, “He’s sleeping.” 

“Still?” He joined us on the mattress, hardly big enough for two people let alone three. It was nice, though, holding his hand from across Suguru’s body, Suguru’s slow breathing on my neck. “Look, we made a Suguru sandwich.” 

I remember laughing briefly, wondering, “Is this it? Is this Suguru not pretending anymore?” 

“Uematsu. Uematsu! Are you listening to me?” 

“Huh?” I take my eyes off the chipping wall of Yaga’s office. “No, not really.”

That was only a couple days ago... What did I do wrong?

“One hundred and twelve residents of that village were killed. The residuals—”

“It’s probably a mistake.”

“We’re certain.” Yaga closes his eyes. “The evidence left in his house suggests he killed his parents too.”

A dense knot forms in the pit of my stomach. His parents, I knew them, I… I knew him. “Now what?”

“His execution was decided after the residuals were confirmed this morning.”

I can’t be sure why, but I laugh. I laugh hard, and shake my head, chest heaving with every sharp breath, feeling my eyes tear at the ridiculousness of it all. Then, my breathing slows. It’s unsteady, as my nails dig into the arms of my seat, front teeth sinking into my lip because I am trying not to cry. I want to deny it, but what does it matter? What will it change? “Does Satoru know?”

“He returned from his mission just before you did. I broke the news to him then.” 

“May I excuse myself then?”

Yaga stops me as I rise from my seat, “One more thing. After the news of Suguru’s execution was released this morning, your brother left campus and hasn’t returned since.” 

He’s in his room, sitting at the edge of his bed, letting the blood of his hand drip onto the floor. “Give it to me.”

His neck is craned to the floor, hand squeezing harder as more blood spills onto his shoes. “Stop that.” I kneel down in front of him, hand held out. “Give it to me.” 

He grits his teeth, skin a sickly pale. I push my index finger into the gap of his bloody palm, feeling something hard hit the tip. “There. Are you going to break my finger now?” 

Satoru finally opens his fist, where a small, blood soaked button rests at the center. It doesn’t take long for me to put the pieces together, to know this is a parting gift. I want to hug Satoru, to say something, but I can’t. There’s no point. 

∞

Two days later, when Shoko calls to say she’s found him, Satoru leaves without me. I’m not sure what we’ve been doing, what’s been said. Everything from the moment of Haibara’s death until now feels like a great blur. Haibara, Mariko, Suguru, Tomiji, all gone. Slowly chipping away at me, like vultures to a carcass. What’s left?

Suguru’s room is exactly as I’d seen it earlier this week, orderly, cozy, the middle of his mattress deeply sunken in from the imprint of his body. The air smells so much like him too, mossy, rich in something floral. It makes me dizzy, being inside this room he’ll never set foot in again. 

I collapse onto his bed and cry. I hug his pillow, pretending that he’s in my arms and everything’s okay. The sun will rise again, and this will be a dream. Everyone will come back to me. 

I hazily spot something through my tears, a piece of paper folded above the nightstand. There’s a picture next to it, an image of him with Satoru and Shoko. He’s the only one not smiling. 

Have I… always been so blind?

I unfold the paper, scanning his familiar script again and again. There’s no answers, though, no explanations, no apologies. He only goes on and on about the same thing. He loves us, he’s always loved us. The feeling won’t change no matter what happens. He included all of our names, even Mariko and Haibara who can never read it. “Thank you,” he said. “For being my family.” 

A tear drips down to where he’d signed his name, smearing the ink. I have to fold it, and tuck it beneath the photo to pretend it doesn’t exist anymore. I have to silence my mind, and ignore that Satoru might kill him this very second. 

“Come back,” I beg. “I forgive you, just come back.” 

∞ 

I see him for the first time when he walks out onto the stage, wearing the clothes of a monk. “Test, test. Sorry for the wait, everyone.”

Satoru refused to read the letter, and so did Shoko. It remains in Suguru’s abandoned room, inside the nightstand drawer with the photo. I come back to his room sometimes, lay in his bed, reread his writing. I picture him there next to me, saying all of it to me in person. 

A conclusion I came to some nights ago was that Suguru never returned to Jujutsu High after the village incident. Meaning he left everything ahead of time, or Tomiji placed it there for him as some sort of contingency plan. Either way, I finally see him, and somewhere in this building my brother must be here too. 

“Now, I’ll keep this brief. From this moment onward, this organization belongs to me. I’ll be changing the name too, so everyone please be sure to follow me.”

There’s hundreds, maybe even thousands of people gathered before me in the crowd. Most of them are old like those who cheered at the Star Religious Center where Amanai’s body was held. One by one they begin to voice their complaints, shouting, even throwing things. 

When a bottle lands too close to him, “Now, that’s not good. I know! Sonoda-san, if you wouldn’t mind, please come to the stage.” 

I should do something. I should save this stranger and finish the job Satoru couldn’t. 

“Yes! You there!” 

But I merely look away when the curse lands on top of the body, smearing the entire stage in blood. 

“Now, once again,” the mic whines as he tosses it to the floor, but everyone is so silent now that his words still travel clearly, “You obey me now… monkeys.” 

The crowd disperses slowly, carefully. I could practically smell the fear radiating off their bodies. “Here to kill me?”

Suguru arrives at my feet, blood on his cheek. “Actually, my brother has been deemed as a potential accomplice of yours. Yaga won’t let me on the case because of ‘personal complications’ or something like that.” 

“So, then why are you here?”

“Three matters of business,” I say firmly. “The first being I read your letter.” 

He smiles, laughs ever so slightly. “I figured you’d be the only one who'd bother.” 

“Is that so?” My teeth grit. “And that’s funny to you?”

“It’s more reassuring than anything else,” he says. “I know exactly who you are as a person.”

“I used to think the same thing about you.” I reach out for him, but his hand snaps around my wrist. He’s on alert these days, even if he tries to mask it. Slowly, though, he lets me in. He lets my thumb try to swipe away some of the blood staining his skin. “Is there anything I could have said or done to make you stay?” 

“No.” His hand lands on top of mine. “It has nothing to do with you. This is the way things are meant to be.” 

He means exterminating non-sorcerers. Killing people like his parents, like my siblings. Ideals I don’t want to argue about with him on our borrowed time. I reach into my pocket and pull out a slip of paper.

He takes it. “What’s this?”

“Second matter of business. This is the information to access a bank line I opened with the money I can get my hands on from the estate. Use it to feed and clothe yourself and those girls you took in, my brother too assuming he’s here.”

“Why give this to me?”

“We’re family aren’t we?” I recount his words from the letter. “Anyway,” I look at him, past the theatrical clothes and darkening blood. I see him, the man I’ve always known. The one I naively claimed I would follow no matter what the circumstances. Part of me still wants to hold to that promise, even if it’s wrong. It’s still him. “I love you more than I hate what you’ve done. It’s as simple as that.” 

I see the same smile I’ve always known. Feel the same arms around me when we hug. “Thank you, Kaede-chan.”

I hold onto him longer than I should, breathing in his scent from more than just the room he’d left behind. “Of course.”

When I finally move to leave, he stops me, “You said there were three matters of business.”

“Ah, that’s right,” I peer over my shoulder, and see him, as he is now. In the ridiculous costume covered in the blood of a man he murdered. It breaks my heart, but he’s changed, and it will only get worse. “You and I are both aware of where my brother stands in this crazy agenda of yours. I’m giving you the courtesy of letting you know that if you lay a hand on him,” my voice becomes particularly clear, “I’ll kill you.”

Suguru smiles, “I believe you.” 

∞

It’s already dark by the time I get back to school. The moment I step into Satoru’s room, he stops whatever he was previously doing, and his voice becomes tense. “Take a shower.”

“What?”

“I can smell him all over you,” he says. “Go shower.” 

The intensity in his voice makes it hard for me to find words, so I agree, and scrub my skin until it turns red and I can be sure the scent is gone. 

I get into bed with him, feel his arms hug my frame, his chin rest on my shoulder. “You could be executed just for speaking to him. You know that, right?”

He’s hard to read these days. At first, he was visibly down, then in the following days suddenly began talking and joking as if nothing’s changed. He acts like half of us aren’t missing, that a large piece of him isn’t missing. I can feel the difference, though. His soul mourning Suguru, the hidden weight of his grief. He assumes I don’t notice how often he wakes in the middle of the night, only to stay up until morning. He hasn’t been able to play any of his video games or eat certain foods because they remind him too much of Suguru. He’s been training twice as much, taking on an excess of missions with it. 

“Who’s gonna kill me? You?” 

He knows I’m right. “Why did you go?”

“I had to see for myself.” My fingers comb through his hair. “I thought, maybe, I would find this unexplainable, evil person and I might be able to let go.”

“And did you?”

“No.” The next breath from my lungs is shallow. “It’s exactly him. Different clothes, and a different motive, but it’s him.” 

Suguru and I made a plan once, to leave everything behind and start over. I find myself wondering constantly if we made the wrong choice. If we had gone through with it, could all of this have been prevented?

Satoru sighs deeply into my skin. “He’s not coming back.” 

I couldn’t have made the wrong choice, though, not if it led me to Satoru. “No, he’s not.”