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Utahime startled awake with a gasp, blinking away tears as she clutched at the fading remnants of a dream she didn’t want to forget.
‘Are you crying, Utahime?’
Her eyes instantly found his — wide pools of endless blue in motion peering at her from across the room. He was silhouetted against the window frame, shōji pulled open to reveal the clear and colourless dawn that was breaking beyond. It was still too early for the sun to paint the sky in daubs of orange and rouge, but the monochrome world outside cast the Six Eyes into even sharper relief.
As she took in the sight of him fully dressed and fully alert, the realisation that he probably hadn’t slept at all made her self-conscious. Untouched by the elements and the need for sleep and all those other trifles that mere mortals had to contend with, Gojō always looked almost unnaturally pristine. In comparison, Utahime felt painfully human.
She imagined how she must look — dishevelled hair, salt-streaked skin, eyes heavy with sleep — and felt the need to turn away from him. Utahime ignored his question, hurrying to wipe away the evidence of her tears instead — but Gojō was faster. Always had been.
He was there in a heartbeat, cool fingertips ghosting over her cheeks, and the gentleness with which he handled her was such a far cry from the violence they were asking him to inflict that the tears started anew. Gojō brought her fingers to his lips to press a featherlight kiss against her knuckles; held them there so that she felt his words against her skin when he murmured, ‘What’s wrong, princess?’
In place of an answer, Utahime asked a question of her own. ‘Have you ever met anyone with a technique that uses dreams?’
His wide-eyed gaze took on the faintest hint of surprise, and her heart fluttered a little. She liked surprising him; liked catching the Six Eyes off guard. Gojō only hesitated for a moment before deciding to indulge her like always.
‘Dreams?’ he echoed, eyes wandering from hers as he sifted through memories. ‘There was this one sorcerer with a sleepwalking technique. As long as he was in a REM state, he could brush off anything that happened as though it was just a dream. Seems broken until you realise how hard it is to stay asleep when someone’s punching you in the face.’ Gojō tilted his head, considering. ‘Or how easy it is to beat someone who’s doped up on heavy-duty sedatives. Is that what you meant?’
Utahime bit her lip, staring down at where their fingers were entwined in his lap. ‘Not exactly…’
Gojō hummed thoughtfully, his expression turning studious. On any other day, Utahime would have thought the conscientiousness with which he approached the task cute. ‘Suguru had a curse that took the form of a person’s worst nightmare,’ he said finally, voice taking on that faraway quality that it always did when he talked about Getō. ‘But he never let me see that one. How about that?’
He looked at her expectantly, and Utahime was reminded of a puppy waiting for its reward. She almost felt bad when she shook her head. ‘No, I was thinking more like…’ She trailed off, feeling shy all of a sudden. Gojō chortled at the flush rising on her cheeks, but Utahime had learned to recognise the fondness lacing his laughter by now, so she plucked up the courage for honesty.
It was with a sigh that she admitted, ‘I was wondering if you’ve ever come across a technique that could make dreams come true.’
The quirk of his petal pink lips and the twinkle in those bottomless blue eyes told Utahime she’d been found out. Still, he indulged her once more. ‘You’ve been reading too many fairytales, Utahime,’ he teased in that sing song voice of his. ‘Apart from that comedian Megumi picked up, I’ve never heard of anything like that.’ His voice dropped low and quiet. ‘But a technique that makes dreams come true sounds dangerous.’
Utahime’s breath hitched at the flicker of something wicked in his eyes. ‘Dangerous?’
‘Dangerously powerful.’
Utahime decided to meet his menacing grin head on. ‘Even stronger than you?’
The Six Eyes were positively gleaming now. ‘Maybe even stronger than me.’
For Gojō to admit to something like that meant that her little game was over. He wasn’t a patient man but, for her, he’d mustered every ounce of his self-discipline to play along. Perhaps that’s why Utahime couldn’t find it in her to be cross when he leaned in close, eyebrows wagging devilishly as the question he’d been waiting to ask finally rolled off his tongue.
‘Did you dream about me, Utahime?’
The heat that blossomed on her cheeks was more than answer enough, but it was Utahime’s turn to be indulgent. It was only fair. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, revelling in the way his eyes widened with delight, something dark and delicious igniting in their depths. ‘I dreamt about you, Gojō.’
At that, the intensity of his gaze became almost too much to bear. Utahime found temporary relief when his eyes left hers to linger at the curve of her neck, but it was a short-lived thing. Gojō’s lips parted with a barely audible gasp and then they were on her, searing her skin where they ghosted over her jawline.
‘Was it a naughty dream, Utahime?’ The voice by her ear was rough with want. ‘Because I can make that dream come true all by myself.’ Her whole body shuddered at the sensation of his warm breath fanning the tiny hairs at the back of her neck. ‘But be warned. I’ve been told my technique is dangerously powerful.’
God, she wanted him. The ache at her core was telling her that she wanted him, but Utahime’s tears were still damp on her cheeks; her dream still fresh in her mind. A different kind of ache settled in the pit of her stomach, and though she desperately wanted to indulge this man, the words spilled from her mouth before she could stop them.
‘I dreamt that you won.’ His lips stilled against her skin. ‘I dreamt that you came back to me in one piece. I dreamt of a happily ever after.’ She’d started crying again but he held her close, capturing every falling tear in a kiss. ‘Just like a fairytale.’
It was nothing more than a whisper at the end, but still, Utahime found that she couldn’t give voice to her fear. What had Gojō said about fairytales? The unspoken truth was heavy in the space between them.
Finally, Gojō sighed, but it wasn’t a sorrowful thing. In fact, when he lifted Utahime’s chin, gentle fingers brushing her hair out of her eyes so that he might look at them, she saw that Gojō was untroubled. Serene, even.
‘Make a joke to the comedian if you like.’ Gojō held her face like it was something precious; traced his thumb over the scar on her cheek as though it was worthy of worship. ‘Wish upon a star if it makes you feel better, Utahime.’ He grinned. ‘But I won’t need it. I’m coming home to you.’
With that, Gojō kissed her as though that settled everything — and maybe it did, because Utahime’s heart felt a little lighter when he eventually gave it back. He laid her down among the pillows, pulling the duvet up around her chin with a soft smile on his lips.
‘Get some more sleep, Utahime.’ He ducked his head to steal one last kiss from her. ‘Dream up something special for me.’