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There'll be happiness after you
But there was happiness because of you too
Both of these things can be true
There is happiness
—happiness, taylor swift
Have you found higher ground
Or are you lost at sea
Do you know where you go
Is where I want to be
—lucky, kay edmonson
I loved you before and I'll love you till then
You're my foe and my brother and lover and friend
—romantic comedy, stars
On Tuesday, Shoko wakes up to the sound of Satoru drying his hair. It’s loud, and the air sounds like the hair dryer is being shaken.
“You up?”
“Yeah,” Shoko croaks from the bed. “Yeah, I just need a moment.”
Satoru peeks his head out from the bathroom, and his eyes rake over Shoko’s naked form, half on top of the sheets. There’s a bite mark on her right shoulder, another just behind her ear, and her hips have his imprints on them.
“Too rough?” he asks, eyes glinting with mischief and an all-too-smug smirk stretching across his lips.
Shoko turns her head to the side to regard him, looks at the scratches on his arms, and knows there are more on his back and shoulders that have probably welted by now. She smirks back.
“Hardly.”
“Idiot. I thought I lost you.”
“You’re not gonna get rid of me that easy, you know?”
“Good. I do plan on keeping you.”
“What you got on your plate today?”
“Nothing much. Just the routine check-ups and some other appointments. Nothing big.”
“Not a busy day then?”
Shoko smiles over the rim of her coffee cup at Satoru’s hopeful tone. “Looks like it.”
They’ve set up a small clinic out front, just beyond the main house. Shoko’s day starts at exactly nine am, just as the clinic doors are unlocked, and she flips over the ‘open’ sign. She goes to work right after Satoru has lovingly forced her to consume breakfast beyond two cups of coffee.
“Yakisoba okay for lunch?”
“Throw in some gyoza and last night’s tempura?” Shoko pauses from putting on her shoes. “And a slice of your tiramisu too.”
“You got it, boss.”
Satoru sees her out the door and the couple of steps it takes to get to her clinic before returning inside.
In contrast to Shoko’s late start, Satoru’s day starts at three am when he gets up to bake the day’s breads for his morning customers. After seeing her off in the morning, he starts on lunch before prepping for the mid-day bake for students who will get off school in the afternoon.
The modest bakery Satoru runs is just beside the clinic and is frequented by workers, a handful of students on their way to school, and the mothers and aunties who tend to sell out the morning wares early. In the afternoons, students from the nearby middle and high schools line up to buy the sweet pastries and cakes.
Shoko says it’s because of his pretty face and deceptive charm, but Satoru likes to believe it’s because he’s a damn good baker. Besides, it’s not like he has control over his customer base, which admittedly is, well, mostly of the female demography.
I bake good bread! And pretty cakes! Satoru exclaims in his defense. They like my buns! They’re soft!
Yeah, they do. Shoko clips as her eyes give him a once over and stop just at the curve of his ass visible through his jeans. And I know they are.
At exactly twelve-fifteen, Satoru hears the front door open just as he’s turning off the stove. He goes to greet her, and his easy smile freezes before morphing into an amused one.
Shoko stands in the genkan with a basket of fruits in one hand and a jar of umeshu in the other.
“What’s this? Shoulda told me you’d go shopping. I would’ve given you a list.”
“Haha,” Shoko deadpans. “A little help?”
Satoru takes umeshu and the basket from her. His eyes light up when he sees the strawberries and persimmons.
“Oh, this is perfect! I can make a strawberry shortcake for later! Yamamoto-san came in today? She okay?”
“Yeah, just her arthritis flaring up again. The persimmons are from Honda-san for resetting his son’s broken leg last week.”
It’s a small town so Shoko sometimes takes produce as payment or whatever the residents can offer, should they insist, and sometimes nothing at all. On days when the clinic is busy, she has one assistant and some volunteers.
“And the umeshu?”
“Special order from Madoka-san.”
“Ah, of course.”
“You could just leave, you know?”
“What?”
“You said you’re tired. You’ve done plenty enough. You’ve earned it.”
“Are you kidding me? I can’t just leave! I—”
“Why not?”
“Why not? What do you mean ‘why not’? There’s—” A sudden pause. He looks at her—at the exhaustion in her dulled eyes, the grim line of her mouth, the hard set to her jaw—and comes to an epiphany. “Will you come with me? Let’s leave. You and me.”
“If needs must.” A put-upon sigh, a casual shrug. “Sure, I guess.”
“Come off it. Bet your bags are already packed. You wouldn’t give me the idea if you weren’t planning on coming along.”
“Why pack anything at all? We can just go now.”
“You always did have the best of ideas.”
On Saturdays, they do the laundry and go grocery shopping while their clothes and sheets hang to dry.
Grocery shopping is fairly easy and even enjoyable. They never quite completely grew out of their bad eating habits from their younger days, but they did acquire some adult taste and now have the sense to swap out some of Satoru’s choices for sweet cereals to cornflakes, minimize their instant noodle intake, go for the higher quality tea, and grab some fruits. For the most part, they’ve mastered the art of compromise when shopping for snacks and sweets.
Satoru absolutely hates doing the laundry, always has, and bemoans and grumbles about the lack of laundry shops and dry cleaners in their area. It’s not that he doesn’t know how to do it. He did learn how when he was living in the jujutsu dorms as a student at some point. It’s just the lack of enough stimulation of the task itself that gets him.
You dump your clothes, put water and soap, then spin and wait! Rinse repeat, then wait again! He complains exactly the same he used to as a student before he had Ijichi drop and pick up his laundry at the cleaners when he officially became a faculty member. You wait—again— for it to dry, and then you have to fold it?! It’s boring but mundanely tedious!
Shoko likes to do it exactly for the reasons Satoru hates it. For how much Satoru hates doing something so routine, she finds comfort in doing the motions.
And then, on Sundays, Satoru drags Shoko bright and early out of bed to go to the farmer’s market.
Shoko protests but it dies down when Satoru puts a cup of coffee in her hand and another iced coffee once they arrive at the market.
Since leaving their old life, Satoru has found a new way to get his thrills and unleash chaos in a new battleground. He maps a carefully thought-out route to go through all the shops. Produce sections first to get the freshest picks before moving on to packed delicacies, a short snack break and another iced coffee for Shoko, then it’s off to the baked goods section before ending the trip perusing through the rest.
Shoko doesn’t mind it in all honesty, but because Satoru tends to buy in bulk for his bakery, he has also learned to be a ruthless haggler and developed all kinds of bargaining techniques.
He’s fairly tame on the first couple of stalls, reasonably asking for discounts and using his natural charm to convince the vendors to mark down their prices in exchange for him buying in bulk, but then he becomes progressively aggressive the more stalls they go in, driven by his hubris and the rush of adrenaline that Satoru somehow gets with every successful bargain at the price he sets until Shoko has to pull him away and apologize for his ridiculousness.
“This. This is why I hate coming to the farmer’s market with you. It’s a small town, idiot! We’ll still have to see them around at some point!”
“But Shoko! 650 yen for a dozen medium-sized chicken eggs! That’s highway robbery! If I wanted expensive eggs, I would’ve shopped in Tokyo!”
“Oh, give it a rest!”
There are not many Shoko regrets in life, but one of her greatest ones was teaching Satoru the concept of haggling and discount coupons.
“I did manage to save us 300 yen on maguro from old man Nobue. You know how stingy he is. I’ll make you chutoro sashimi later. Oh! You can pair it with the junmai-shu I got, which I didn’t try to haggle for, by the way, but I did get a 20% off coupon for my next purchase. Are you super impressed? I know you are. I did good, right?”
Shoko shoots him a withering glare that melts before Satoru’s all too delighted face and the promise of chutoro and high-quality sake. She sighs, resigned but not at all put-upon as she gives in and lovingly pats Satoru on the cheeks.
“Yeah, okay. You did good. Let’s go home. My feet hurt.”
They divvy up the bags between them with Satoru giving her the lighter ones. For that, Shoko lets him intertwine their free hands and makes a mental note to give free check-ups to all the merchants Satoru has terrorized that day.
The town they settle in is small and close enough to the sea that one can smell the saltwater in the air.
There is no rhyme or reason for choosing the place. Shoko just asked him if he wanted to leave, Satoru took her hand, and this is where they landed. When Shoko asked why, Satoru just shrugged and said, ‘No reason,’ and she didn’t probe further.
The old house they decided to occupy and make their own was an old abandoned one, a veritable fixer-upper. They walked around the town a bit, saw the old traditional house with a sprawling overgrown front and backyard, and decided it was as good a place as any. They went to the local municipal office to inquire and sign the papers, then stayed at a local inn while they waited for them to get processed.
They are told a family used to occupy the house until a few years ago when the last of the children moved out after the death of their old parents. There are some whispers of the house being haunted, which both of them just shrugged off because Satoru already exorcised whatever low-level curse they encountered when they first came across it. ‘That’s fine,’ Shoko says to the old lady processing their papers, ‘we don’t mind having roommates.’
They get their papers and immediately move in despite some parts of the house looking worse for wear. Together they clean what they can and decide they’ll be sleeping in the living room area for the time being, the only place that doesn’t look like the roof would cave in, while they repair and build the house every day bit by bit.
It would be a while before it could be called a proper home, but they have time.
They have time.
When the clinic is not busy, Shoko takes extra time on her break to sit on the engawa with Satoru after lunch drinking tea, talking, and running her fingers through his hair while he takes a cat nap.
“I might do something about the—” he’s cut off by a jaw-cracking yawn, “—yard this weekend.”
“Will you?”
Satoru keeps his eyes closed but his brows meet in a frown at Shoko’s skeptical tone.
“I will do something about the yard this weekend,” he says resolutely this time. “It’s long overdue and overgrown. I can barely even see the path walk.”
“I’m sure you will,” Shoko replies, not bothering to hide her patronizing tone as her fingers comb through Satoru’s unruly hair.
“Shoko, you help.”
“Hah!” Shoko lets out a surprised laugh that dissolves into cackles, shaking her head as she goes at the ridiculous notion of her gardening. She looks down upon realizing Satoru has gone silent and sees his very unimpressed expression. “Oh, you’re serious. Hard pass.”
“What? Why?” Satoru’s indignation seeps at each word and minute expression even as he refuses to sit up from her lap. “It’s easy! And it’ll be fun! We can have a vegetable patch and maybe some fruits for the bakery. Maybe some flowers? That would be pretty, right? Especially in the Spring. Oh! You can even have a section for your medicinal plants!”
Satoru grows excited the more he thinks about their would-be garden. The property is large and sprawling and Shoko has no doubt he’ll be able to grow a beautiful garden and probably put up a greenhouse too. The same cannot be said about Shoko however.
“Nah. I don’t think I have the knack for it. I even killed the succulent Utahime gave me when she was in her gardening phase. No green thumb here obviously,” Shoko shrugs, smiling down at him and patting his cheek. “But you go do your gardening while I watch you work and have refreshments ready when you get too hot under the sun.”
“Noooo~,” Satoru drags the word petulantly. “C’mon! It’ll be fun I swear! And educational! You just had a lot going on back then that’s why your plant got neglected. Heck, we both had a lot going on back then. But we’re here now, and we have all the time in the world. I’ll clear out the yard and set everything up. We can learn how to garden together.”
“Did I mention the succulent Utahime gave me was—what was it called again? See? I don’t even know. It was some kind of cactus. She said it’s the easiest succulent to keep alive. She even gave me very detailed step-by-step instructions and it still died within a week. I’ll probably just kill whatever I plant.”
“No, you won’t.”
“So sure of that, are you?”
“Of course I am. Your touch literally heals. You breathe life everywhere you go,” Satoru says this like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and looks a little offended that Shoko doesn’t already know it. “I mean, just look at this town. The people are healthier, the kids get sick less, and even the elderly looked like they’ve been given an extended lifespan after every visit to your clinic.”
Shoko’s hand pauses from stroking Satoru’s hair, a little taken aback by his words.
It’s not like she downplays what she does as a doctor and she knows being an RCT user on top of that puts her in a unique position of having the ability to heal beyond just mortal wounds, but to say that she ‘breathes life everywhere she goes’ seems like an overstatement of her abilities.
“You should know by now that flattery will get you nowhere with me.”
“I’m serious. Utahime’s stupid cactus was probably just defective and, I don’t know, pre-dying.”
“First of all, what the hell are you even saying?” How can a plant even be defective? Unbelievable. “And second, gardening is not the same as healing. You do know that, right? Medicine and Botany are not the same.”
“Wrong,” Satoru, stubborn and argumentative and has an intense need to always be right, adamantly counters and makes the sound of a wrong answer buzzer. How he manages to look haughty and righteous even with his head pillowed on her lap making a dorky ‘x’ with his arms, Shoko doesn’t know. “Gardening is a lot like healing actually.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Shoko gives in first if only because she knows Satoru won’t quit until he’s proven his point, if he even has one. “How so, oh all-knowing-one?”
“Well, plants need caring, right? When they get damaged you mend the parts that need tending, when they die you can revive them. See, that part is a lot like what you do with your RCT.”
“My cursed technique doesn’t bring back the dead.”
“You did with me.”
“That’s—” Shoko shoots him a complicated look. “That’s not the same.”
“Isn’t it?” Satoru challenges before immediately moving on to his rambling. “Not to mention medicine can also be found in botany. There are lots of plants used for biomedicine. Tea, for one, then there’s aloe vera, lemon grass, sage, and banana leaves. And what about the plants used for poultices? Huh? Need I say more? ‘Cause I can go on, you know.” When Shoko only gives him a deadpan stare, he smirks. “Check and mate.”
“Okay, nerd,” Shoko defaults to calling him names because, well, he got her there. Damn him.
“I’m serious. Besides,” Satoru reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear, tugging at the ends playfully as he goes, and grinning in a way that tells Shoko he’s either going to say something really annoying or extremely devastating. “You brought me back remember? Reached into the beyond and breathed life back into me?”
“Breathed life back into you,” Shoko echoes back with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. I used RCT on you, loser. It’s not like I gave you some of my lifespan or a new life source or whatever.”
“Shoko,” it’s soft, the way Satoru says her name, gentle with the way it rolls off his tongue. The corners of his lips tilt to an almost impish smile if only for the barely suppressed giddiness. He presses a chaste kiss on her open palm, his voice achingly tender when he says, “Plant a garden with me.”
It’s different from the first time he said it. It’s not a request of the arbitrary or a task set on a whim for the sake of having to do. There’s meaning to it and Shoko swallows against the lump in her throat and something else bubbling inside her. The words uttered against her palm stay there and Satoru remains looking at her expectantly, blue eyes framed by long lashes, captivating in their earnestness.
‘Plant a garden with me' sounds a lot like ‘Build a home with me.’
Shoko looks at the man with his head on her lap, at her hand cupping Satoru’s face, his hand keeping it there, and sighs.
“I’m not clearing out the yard.”
Satoru smiles and presses another kiss to her palm.
“What about the kids?”
“They’ll understand.”
“What about Megumi? He…he’s already lost so much. Tsumiki’s gone too and I— He—I can’t just leave him.”
“He has his friends. Yuuji, Nobara, the second years. They’re his, and he’s theirs.”
“Yeah, but I’m—” He wasn’t going to say he’s Megumi’s father, but he’s certainly the closest thing the kid has to a family is what Satoru wants to say. “What if he thinks I also—”
“As far as everyone knows, you’re dead.” It’s not her intention, but Shoko has found that she sometimes needs to be the selfish one because Satoru can’t. Not even for himself. No matter how much he insists he is. “Megumi will understand.”
One day a box with three kittens is dropped outside the clinic.
“Must’ve thought I’m a vet.” Shoko shrugs as Satoru puzzles how the three hairballs ended up on their doorstep and is not at all surprised when he scoops up the box into his arms and takes it to the house.
They ask each other what to do about them and settle on putting up ads all over town to see if anyone would want the kittens. A week passed with Shoko and Satoru asking anyone who would drop by the clinic or bakery if they’d want to adopt kittens but no dice.
“So, what now?” Shoko asks one slow afternoon on the engawa watching the three kittens frolic around their growing garden
“Maybe it’s for the best.”
“Got attached to them, did ya?” She knew it the moment he started adding goat’s milk to his grocery list.
“Like you’re one to talk,” Satoru scoffs, smiling when the black kitten saunters up to them. “C’mere, Umi-nyan.”
“You already named them?”
“Just this one. He’s a good kitty.”
“Didn’t that one scratch you last week?”
“Eh, he came around. He also chases away all the mice so we should really thank him for our mice-free house."
“Ah. So that's why I found a dead mouse on the porch the other day.”
“That was a gift,” Satoru huffs, offended on behalf of the kitten he’s currently snuggling against his cheek. “You should really—oh, hello, Uji-nyan.”
The orange one has successfully climbed the engawa through a series of jumps and leaps and is currently pawing at Satoru’s thigh for attention.
“Thought you only named one.”
“Well, this one killed and ate a snake lurking in the garden. It was just a grass snake, nothing harmful. Still gross though.” Satoru lets it clamber onto his lap, chuckling when it starts letting out loud purrs when he scratches under its chin and behind the ears. “Don’t do that anymore, okay, Uji-nyan? Might give you tummy aches.”
“And this one?” Shoko asks of the white kitten nudging its cold nose on her feet. “What’s her name?”
“You can name that one,” Satoru huffs, hissing back when the white kitten turns to hiss at him when he nudges it with a foot. “She bit me earlier when I tried to give her a bath.”
“Right,” Shoko drawls and asks again, “So, what’s her name?”
“Ara-nyan.” The kitten hisses at him again and even bats her paw at his foot, tiny claws out. Satoru lets out an affronted sound when it quickly turns docile when Shoko reaches to pet her. The little thing even nuzzles her hand. “Tch. Whatever. She’ll come around.”
“You miss them, huh?”
“Every fucking day,” Satoru easily admits. Of course, he misses them. They’re his kids. He’s not ashamed to admit it. And Shoko will tell him he’s allowed to miss them, but Satoru is also the one who left without saying anything, without even telling him he’s alive. So. “But I know they’ll be fine.”
Maybe. Probably. He’s not sure, but he hopes they are. Hopes they get to live as close to the kind of life he has now. Hopes they think about him now and again no matter how selfish the thought of that is.
“You can check on them, you know?”
Sometimes, because he’s a masochist, Satoru likes to imagine how his kids will react to seeing him again, to find him well and alive. He imagines they’ll be furious, Megumi especially, when they find out he’s been alive all that time they all thought him dead, living in some obscure seaside town away from jujutsu society to whence he dragged and left them. He imagines being called a coward, a shirker, a deserter, and the resentment for being left behind to pick up the pieces—all of which Satoru would agree and accept.
But because he is a coward—
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I don’t mean to show yourself. Just…see how they’re doing.”
And what? Risk Satoru revealing himself at a mere glimpse of his kids? It’s flattering how Shoko thinks his impulse control has improved and the faith she puts in it, but Satoru likes to believe he knows himself and his weaknesses best.
“Sure,” Satoru acquiesces half-heartedly. “Not right now, though.”
(Or anytime soon, Shoko knows, maybe even never and that’s just fine too.)
A year after they settled down a curse tries to get in their house.
It doesn’t get past their gates because the Satoru is paranoid and wards the whole property the day they move in. Rechecks them every week.
Satoru wakes up in the middle of the night with a jolt when he feels the curse slam against the ward, surprised to find that there were still curses lurking about despite the fact he had already gone out to scour the area when they first arrived. The next day, he sets out bright and early on a mission to eliminate whatever remaining curses are floating around the town and its surrounding village and only returns when it is well past midnight.
Shoko is still up and waiting for him, smoking on the porch with a thermos of hot chocolate.
“All done?”
“Yeah, all done,” Satoru sighs, slumping heavily beside her, and gratefully accepts the cup of hot chocolate she hands him. “For now.”
He can’t use Limitless at its full potential like he used to, the price to pay to return to the land of the living, so the process took some time. He isn’t under the illusion that this would be the last time he’d be exorcising curses in this town. For as long as there are humans, there will be curses. He hasn’t forgotten that, but living away from jujutsu society has made him complacent.
Still, exorcising curses remain second nature to Satoru. After all, one doesn’t forget how to swim just because they got out of water. He’s been exorcising curses for as long as he’s been alive. It’s all he’s ever known. How can Satoru forget something as natural as breathing to him? He wasn’t the Strongest Sorcerer for the whole of a past life for nothing.
Shoko silently reaches to take his hand, running her thumb over the busted knuckles one after the other. Then she gently takes his face into her cold hands and heals the cuts and bruises. Satoru heaves a deep relieved sigh as he feels her cursed energy coursing through him, healing everything in its path. He could’ve healed himself with his RCT, but Shoko always tells him he overdoes it and he really just prefers when Shoko does it.
When she is done, he rests his head on her shoulder, nuzzling his face against her neck and inhaling her scent. The strong smell of tobacco mixed with her citrus shampoo calms him despite the thoughts that have been nagging him.
“What if it’s me?” Satoru whispers against the soft skin of Shoko’s neck. “What if I attract and bring curses everywhere I go?”
It’s been a year since they arrived and this is the first time they’ve encountered a curse here. They’ve asked around and no one has ever mentioned anything strange happening since living in this town. Some of the people said they’ve been here for generations. Satoru is pretty sure it is one of the few areas in the country that cursed spirits haven’t touched and if they were, it was so minor that it wasn’t even a blip in jujutsu society’s radar. But now a cursed spirit has appeared and it attempted to enter their house. Who knows if it’s gotten anyone else in the town? Surely it’s Satoru who brought them here.
“If that’s true then you’ve endangered this town,” Shoko, never one to sugarcoat her words. “Or maybe it’s me. Or the both of us. Don’t take all the credit.”
“Shoko, I’m serious.”
“So am I. I have a cursed technique too, you know.”
“That’s different,” Satoru argues. “Yours is good. Reversed Cursed Technique does good things. The Six-Eyes is—”
“Good, too,” Shoko cuts him off. “It fought in the war and protected your students, your kids, it protected our house and now this town. It doesn’t matter if it’s meant to be a weapon or a tool for mass destruction. What matters is how you use it and you’ve done nothing but good with it. You did good, Satoru. You always do.”
Satoru lets Shoko’s words linger and resolves not to make her a liar.
There’s a kid in the village who seems to see curses. Shoko spends all of five minutes with the boy before she figures it out.
One day, his parents bring him to Shoko’s clinic because he refuses to go to school claiming he’s sick. This has apparently been going on for a few weeks. Physically, the boy seems fine, but the parents thought to bring him to the town doctor, thinking it might be related to his psyche.
Truth be told, Shoko will not be able to help him if it is psyche-related, but the relief on the boy’s face is palpable when she tells him he’s not going insane and that she sees them too. They’re curses, she tells him. Only a few very special people can see them, she lies. Don’t worry. I’ll have someone take care of them so they don’t bother you anymore, this at least she can do.
What she doesn’t do is try to find out what abilities the boy has to exorcise curses. There’s a reason she’s left that life behind her after all. Besides, what use is it for her to know? It’s not like she would train the boy to be a sorcerer. That’s not what she’s here for and it’s not something she’s equipped to do in any capacity nor does she have the interest or conscience for it.
She considers not telling Satoru about the kid. He’s the one with the history of taking in stray would-be sorcerers after all and Shoko doesn’t trust him not to use this boy to fill what she knows is the void in him that has yet to fill itself after leaving jujutsu society. Against her better judgment, however, she tells him anyway, but only because she knows he’ll find out eventually one way or another. Besides, she promised the kid she’ll have someone take care of the curses and it’s not like Shoko is gonna deal with those herself.
“I see,” is all Satoru says after Shoko tells him. “Did you figure out what his—right.” He shuts his mouth at the look Shoko gives him.
It goes as she predicted because Satoru, always a soft touch when it comes to kids, gives the boy sweet pastries on the house the next time he wanders into his bakery and tells him he knows about the ‘monsters’ and not to worry about them.
The next day, he goes out to scour the town for lingering curses and does so every day until the next time the kid visits Shoko in her clinic and tells her that the curses have stopped bothering him.
“Malaysia? Really?”
“Yep. Told me all about his retirement plan and everything. I think he even saved up to buy a house there.”
“Huh. Nanamin always did have his life planned out the most of all of us.”
“He had a plan, and he was gonna stick to it. He had it all figured out.”
“And then he came back to Jujutsu, and everything went to shit,” Satoru says with a wry chuckle and a roll of his eyes. “Should’ve stayed at his soul-sucking corporate job.”
“Stop that. It’s not like you could make him do anything he doesn’t want. Nanami came back on his own.” And Shoko lived every day in silent guilt at the genuine joy she felt when he did. “Besides, I think that corporate job really did a number on him. Certainly worse than being a sorcerer did to him I assume since he decided to come back.”
“You saying capitalism is what drove Nanamin to come back to Jujutsu?”
“I’m saying capitalism is exactly what drove Nanami to go back to being a sorcerer.”
“Surely it can’t be that bad?”
“Hah!” Shoko laughed. “Spoken like a true trust fund nepo baby who’s never worked a 9 to 5 job in his life.”
“We should go to Malaysia.”
Shoko looks up at him over her bowl of miso ramen. Then, seamlessly and without missing a beat, she gently takes Satoru’s glasses from his face to wipe off the condensation from the steam of his ramen bowl before putting them back on him.
“What the— Did you just—” Satoru’s mouth hangs open, caught off-guard mid-sentence of the action, and blinks at her. He looks down at his now fog-free glasses and to a clear view of Shoko who just stole a slice of pork from his bowl. “Did you just clean my glasses for me?
“Pushed it up too.” Shoko watches the doe-eyed look on Satoru’s face and the way he scrunches his face to adjust how his glasses sit on the bridge of his nose. She’s a little miffed that she finds it adorable and so hides her smile with a sip of her beer. “It looked like it would fall on your bowl any second.”
These days Satoru has ditched his blindfolds and blackout sunnies for regular prescription glasses. He wholeheartedly embraces the view but with it comes the slow but steady deterioration of his eye-sight as if making up for all the years he’s overused them. Good thing he’s got Shoko.
“So,” Shoko prods, successfully sequestering the last gyoza. “Malaysia?”
“Huh? Oh, right.” Satoru swallows and shakes himself off his stupor. He smiles when he notices her lightly frowning when his glasses start fogging again, and practically feels her itching to reach for them again. “Malaysia. Yes. We should go there.”
For Nanami? She doesn’t say, but what she does say is—
“Okay. What should we do there?”
Shoko started smoking in middle school.
She did it out of curiosity, as do most kids with adult vices, and didn’t find it as appealing at first. She didn’t hate it but she didn’t particularly love it either.
The chain-smoking started halfway through her first year in Jujutsu High. Of course, it was a coping mechanism.
Because with all the terrible horrible things that come with being a sorcerer, the death and the loss and the need for detachment, sometimes the novelty of being able to smoke a whole pack of Marlboro reds in one sitting without thinking about the consequences is one of the things that Shoko finds comfort in.
“You know that’s bad for you, right?” Satoru comments one time offhandedly while bored waiting in between missions. And because he’s rude and has no brain-to-mouth filter he continues to run his mouth despite Suguru’s less than subtle signals to shut his trap and the steadily darkening look on Shoko’s face, “Health matters aside, it makes for bad hygiene. Tobacco stains your teeth, gives you gum disease, and tooth decay. Not to mention bad breath.”
“Sorry, I forgot the part where I asked for your opinion.”
“I’m just saying. You smoke like it’s the air you breathe.” Satoru shrugs, either blissfully unaware of the edge in Shoko’s tone or just plainly being an asshole. “And aren’t you gonna be a doctor or something? Don’t you see the irony in that?”
“How’s that any different from you shoveling sugar in your mouth any chance you get?” Shoko says, lighting another stick as if to prove a point. She takes a drag and blows the smoke directly at Satoru’s face, smirking meanly when it makes him cough. “It’s like you’re an addict going through withdrawal if you don’t shove a lollipop or a chocolate bar in your mouth every five minutes.”
“The Six-Eyes uses a lot of energy,” Satoru, defensive and annoyed at inhaling tobacco smoke. “Not like your smoking does anything.”
Suguru sensing the rising tension, tries to intervene. “Satoru, stop—”
“Nah, I think it’s because you’ve been deprived of sweets growing up as a young master in the clan estate. Strict rules and all that, huh?” Shoko counters, having reached the end of her patience after being elbows deep in blood and guts from three different hospitals in the past days, healing cursed-inflicted patients and pulling all-nighters in the morgue. And then, just because he started it when he decided to comment on the one thing that’s holding her sanity and Shoko thinks he deserves it, “What’s it like having a shitty childhood?”
“Depraved? Sure, but also—” Satoru unwraps a lolli and pops it into his mouth, sending Shoko a shark-like smirk. “I just really love sweets and I can eat whatever I want. Young master of a major Jujutsu clan and all that. Shitty childhood notwithstanding.”
“Diabetes and tooth decay. I hope you get them. Simultaneously.”
“There’s this little thing called Reverse Cursed Technique. I think you’ve heard of it, yeah?”
“Funny you should mention that,” she forcefully grabs Satoru by the chin to make him focus on her, her chipped black nail-polished nails digging a bit into the soft of his cheeks. “Lend me those Six Eyes of yours for a bit and check this out. Make sure to pay attention to my lungs, yeah?”
Shoko takes one last drag from her cigarette, blows the smoke upward, and activates her cursed technique.
“That’s—”
“Yeah. The wonders of Reverse Cursed Technique, am I right?” She flicks her finished stick on the ground and stubs it with her foot. “You have your sweets, I have my smokes.” Shoko plucks his sunnies off his face deciding it will be his payment for pissing her off. “Now, buzz off.”
“You’re not smoking as much these days.”
The smell of ash and burned nicotine no longer lingers. It was fine with Satoru, even before getting Limitless, he never minded because it strangely mixed nicely with her perfume. Nowadays, the scent of lilac and jasmine have lost their smoky undertone.
“What? I still smoke.”
“Yeah, but you—” Here, Satoru makes a show of sniffing at her, scrunching his nose and pulling her to him by the arm around her shoulders to bury her face in her hair. “You smell different these days. The, uh, smell of tobacco. It’s milder.”
Shoko gives him a weird look as she exhales the drag she just took from her evening cigarette. She tugs her ashtray closer to her, thick glass and heavy as a paperweight, the sound of it against the polished wood of their porch swing is loud in the quiet of the night as if making a point.
“No, it’s just—oh, you know what I mean.” His head dips lower and the tip of his nose brushes lightly on the side of her neck. “You used to go through two packs of them before lunchtime and now, what? You’re down to one stick every night, two if you’re drinking, and your kiseru when you’re feeling festive.”
“There are lots of kids who come into the clinic, sometimes pregnant women. I can’t be smelling like cigarettes when I’m on duty.” Shoko shrugs, huffing out a quiet laugh when Satoru wounds both his arms around her and starts peppering her neck with playful kisses. “But I’m not quitting any time soon if that’s what you’re hinting at.”
“Wouldn’t even dream of it.”
“And I like my kiseru . You got it for me for my birthday last year.”
“It’s nice, right? I have good taste.” Shoko scoffs but doesn’t contest him. He settles beside her once again, a contemplative look on his face. “But you haven’t been smoking as much as you did. Not since we came here.”
“So I haven’t.”
Satoru smiles. “Don’t feel the itch as much?”
Shoko smiles back. “So it seems.”
"Let's get married."
Shoko only falters from changing his bandages for a beat before answering, "What brought this on?"
"I don't know,” Satoru shrugs. “Life is short. Shorter for us. I literally just died. And came back to life!”
“And that’s enough reason to get hitched, is it? You’re given a second chance at life and decided you want to settle down?”
“Well, sure. That. But also because I like you and you like me — ”
"Do I?"
"—so let's get married."
Shoko shoots him a bemused look. "What, now?"
"Well, when are you free?"
"I don't know. My schedule is pretty packed, what with the war going on and whatnot."
Satoru knows she’s mostly jesting. "So what I'm hearing is it's not a ‘no' but a ‘maybe later’."
"Sure."
"No, wait. I'm serious,” Satoru grabs her by the arm before she can walk away from his cot. “I'll get you a ring and everything."
"Okay."
"Is that you’re final answer? ‘Okay’?” Satoru looks almost offended at her nonchalance, and Shoko has to bite back a smile. “‘Cause you'll only have like seven seconds before it's too late to go."
“Well, let me know when you plan to take a knee so I can get a head start.”
Satoru likes to take Shoko with him sometimes when he’s out hunting for curses in his bid to keep the town and the villages surrounding it clean. Shoko doesn’t mind for the most part. It has a certain nostalgia to it which she suspects is why Satoru insists on her coming along once in a while.
Today’s excursion brings them to an odd part of the woods far from the town where they stumble upon an old fox temple.
Satoru already made quick work of the few level threes they’ve encountered and is now just idly circling the premises. Shoko follows him when he enters the temple and walks straight to the elevated altar. He stands in the middle, still and statue-like as he senses the area. The action triggers a memory.
“You said something that bothered me.” There is a ray of light that directly beams down at Satoru, as if an illuminated deity. “Before.”
“Is that why you’ve been quiet this whole time?” Satoru frowns at her as he hops off the podium and to the nearest window to look outside. “Was this the one where I said Ponyo was better than Princess Kaguya? ‘Cause I already made my case and I thought you—”
“It’s not that, dumbass, and we already established you were wrong.” He’s always had shitty takes on movies in Shoko’s opinion. “It’s something you said back then. During the war.”
“I’ve talked so much shit back then. You’re gonna have to be more specific.”
“You talked so much shit all the fucking time but this one thing takes the cake.”
“Well, what did I say?”
“ ‘I won't let any other person be lonely anymore’ ,” Shoko quotes. It’s clear that whatever it was she claims he said that pissed her off Satoru didn’t expect it to be that. The surprise on his face is plain and his arms fall limply at his sides. Shoko doesn’t hold back and says, “If you ever felt that, I want you to know it’s your fault and you were wrong.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“I think I’ve always known. I was just too far up my ass to admit it,” Satoru shrugs and shoots her a sheepish lopsided smile. “I know I was never alone. And that I didn’t have to be lonely. More so now.”
“Yeah, but I also understand what you meant. Kinda.” Shoko sighs, the fight leaving her at Satoru’s easy admission. “It was very lonely at the top, wasn’t it?”
“It was, but I realized now that it was a prison of my own doing.” He takes her hand, looks at her, and sees the person who’s been with him through it all and is still with him, here, now, and always. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
Shoko doesn’t respond and just worldlessly takes him by the wrist towards the front where the dilapidated altar ravaged by time and nature stands.
“Wha—” Satoru almost trips as he follows. He looks at Shoko in confusion when they stop just before the altar, then his eyes grow wide in surprise and disbelief when she turns to face him. “Shoko, are you—”
“Shut up,” she cuts him off. Shoko doesn’t blush easily and only does when she’s drinking, but right now the tips of her ears are fire hydrant red and that makes Satoru smile. “I’m only gonna say this once so listen up.”
Shoko doesn’t say ‘I love you .’ Instead, she takes his hands before the crumbling statue of a fox god, and when she opens her mouth to speak, it’s an utterance of a vow of devotion.
“I…cannot stand on the same plane of existence on which you were born. I never have, and I never will. Even after the war has taken its spoils from you. But know this,” Shoko looks up at him, her violet gaze intense and arresting, holding Satoru in place that he can’t look away. “I will follow you. Whenever and wherever you want to go, I will follow you. Even when you don’t want me there or even when you don’t need me. I will always go with you, so you don’t ever say you’re alone.”
Satoru sucks in a breath at Shoko’s declaration. It’s overwhelming in its sincerity and vulnerability, a rare show for Shoko, that it seizes his throat and makes him feel like something inside him is threatening to burst, his chest heavy with want and love for her. It’s so succinct and straight to the point and so Shoko that it knocks the air out of him. Makes his heart stop, skip a beat, and take his breath away. Shoko always takes his breath away.
“Aish,” Satoru sighs, tilting his head heavenwards as he tries to calm his heart and control the heat taking over his face. “Can’t believe we’re doing this in an old abandoned decrepit temple in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.”
“Figured this was as good a time as any. You were taking your sweet time.”
“I was getting to it.”
“Sure.”
“I was. I am,” Satoru amends, narrowing his eyes at her when Shoko sends him a patronizing look. “I was gonna get you a ring. A nice one. Shiny and pretty and big. A real conversation starter. But you’ve gone and ruined my timeline and now everything’s out of order. Unbelievable.”
“What timeline? You—” Shoko asks and then sighs when he turns away to rummage around the ruble. “What are you looking for?”
“A proxy. Something to use as a temp until I get you a real one—aha!”
He strides back to Shoko holding a string previously attached to an old torn-up talisman. “Shoko, you—” Satoru pauses, chuckling as he shakes his head. “You’ve always been the only one who sees me. You’ve always been the only one to truly see me beyond the Six Eyes. To you, I’m just…me. Satoru. And I hated that, you know? When we were younger. Hated that you were never impressed by me, my cursed technique, my money, or my family name.”
Satoru remembers the first time they all met in their old jujutsu high classroom as first years, remembers Shoko giving him a blank look, a shrug, and a ‘Never heard of it’ when he told her he’s the heir apparent of the Gojo clan. It was infuriating as it was refreshing and Satoru was hooked from that moment.
“I hated that you always seemed to be able to read me so well like those trashy romance novels I know you're so fond of despite you always denying it. I keep telling you, there’s nothing wrong with that.” He chuckles when Shoko just rolls her eyes at him. “You’ve always been able to see right through me. So easily. More than Suguru or anyone else. And I hated that too. For a bit.”
It confused him before, young and stupid as he was, why he felt so frustrated with her and yet at the same time felt comforted that he never had to explain himself to her. He didn’t like how she seemed to see right through him but was also relieved to just bask in her all-knowingness and understanding.
“But I also…liked it. Really like it. Because with you, I don’t have to pretend. I don’t have to be the Strongest. I don’t have to be somebody. I just…get to be, well, me.” Satoru shrugs, smiling at her. “You’re the first person I go to for everything, do you know? Always. Even then.”
“Can you just skip to the part where you say what you actually want to say? You’ve done enough of a preamble,” Shoko says, a soft teasing smile on her face. “At this rate, we’ll be as ancient as this temple before you finish.”
“Tch. No romantic bone in your body, I swear to god,” he huffs, rolling his eyes. “Appreciate the build-up, will you? I’m getting there.”
Satoru takes Shoko’s left hand and circles the twine string around her ring finger once, twice, before deftly tying it loosely into a pretty bow knot.
“Just as you promise to always go with me,” Satoru pulls Shoko’s hand to his lips and kisses the finger with the makeshift ring. “I promise to always come for you.”
In an old abandoned decrepit temple in the middle of a forest before a crumbling ancient fox god, with nothing but the rubble that surrounds them and whatever higher powers may be as their witnesses, two people vow to be each other’s and swear their devotion.
Shoko leans up on her tiptoes and Satoru meets her halfway to seal the deal.
✵
“I owe you a ring. A real one.”
“Like I said, I don’t need one. We can just go to the municipal hall and sign the papers.”
“But I want you to wear one and I want people to ask about it when they go to the clinic while you do their check-ups and write them prescriptions! I want to wear matching ones and let them know the pretty town doctor and the resident handsome baker are married!”
“Pretty sure they already assume that.”
“And I want everyone who pretends to come in sick just so you’ll fuss about them to get the fucking hint!”
“No one is doing that. You are being delusional.”
“Oh. Oh, I’m delusional. I can’t believe this. You think the men and women coming into the clinic fake coughing are just there for the what, free lollies? C’mon, Shoko. Don’t be dense.”
“Ah, well. I suppose it would be nice for the aunties who come into the bakery to stop trying to set you up with their daughters and nieces.”
“What? When has that ever happened? They know you and I are kinda like a thing or something.”
“Now, who’s being dense?”
“Yeah, the sheets are too starchy and the wallpapers are tacky and hurt my eyes,” Satoru complains as he dives backward onto the luxurious king-sized bed. “View’s nice though, I’ll give them that.”
“Aren’t you guys checked in on some fancy 5-star hotel? Suguru told me. What, not up to you rich boy standards, your Highness?” Shoko, on the other end of the line. There’s not enough vitriol as usual when she’s picking on his spoiled tendencies so Satoru figures she’s probably busy.
“I like my dorm back in the school better.”
“Bullshit,” Shoko scoffs. “You telling me you like your dorm walls stained by god knows what and lumpy mattress better than a 5-star deluxe suite?”
“Eh, it grew on me. I like my posters and the Digimon comforter you gave me as a gag—which joke’s on you because—”
“Yeah, yeah, You actually love it because you’re a nerd.” There’s shuffling and the sound of muffled conversation and Satoru guesses Shoko must’ve put her hand over the speaker. When she returns, it’s with a gripe of, “I can’t believe you assholes went to Okinawa without me. Even Nanami and Haibara were sent as backup.”
“Yeah, well, someone has to hold the fort while we’re gone.” Satoru smirks, imagining her annoyed face, brows scrunched and lips jutted to a cute frown.
“Where’s Suguru?”
“Went out with our ward and the maid. Said so I can rest or whatever.”
“That’s nice of him.”
“Tch. Whatever.” As if the Six-Eyes wielder needed it. “We went to the beach. The water’s nice and clear. Suguru got drunk on fruit punch.”
“Rub it in more, won’t ya?” Shoko grits and Satoru imagines she’s glaring at something as she mutters, “Dick.”
“I promise to bring you back tons of souvenirs.”
“Whatever.”
“We should go back here next summer. I’ll pay for your flight.”
“Damn right, you will.”
“On second thought, scratch that. Let’s use the family’s Cessna.” He smiles at her low whistle and ‘ooh, fancy’ comment. “Anyway, at the rate we’re being sent out on missions and you practically doing a hospital tour of the country, it’ll be our graduation by the time we see each other again.”
“You’re so dramatic. As always,” Shoko says and Satoru can tell she just exhaled another drag by the way the receiver crackles. “I’ll make sure to be at the school when you guys get back from your mission.”
“Oh shit!”
“What?”
“My Tamagotchi! I left it on my desk when we left and I forgot to tell you—!
“Already took care of it. The sound was getting annoying.”
“You killed it?! Shoko! How could you—”
“No, idiot! I literally took care of it!” She was tempted to let it die of course but she knew she wouldn’t hear the end of it from Satoru if she did and that was way, waaaay more annoying. “I fed it, played with it, cleaned after it, and everything. You’re welcome.”
“Phew!” The receiver crackles as Satoru breathes his sigh of relief. “Thanks! As as a benevolent show of gratitude, I am hereby naming you Tama-chan’s mom with shared custody.”
“Ew. No, thanks.”
“Too late! You’re already in the family registry as we speak!” Satoru cackles as he practically hears Shoko rolling her eyes on the other line. “Let’s go out for yakiniku when we get back?”
“Mm. There’s a new creperie that just opened in Ginza this weekend. Very aesthetic and fancy. We can check that out too.”
“Sweet. See you in a few days, Shoko. I mi—” Satoru cuts himself before he can say it. “Yeah, see you.”
“What’s that? Were you just gonna say you missed me?”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Aww, c’mon!”
“Yeah, yeah. I was gonna say I miss you.” Because he does. He doesn’t know why he didn’t just say it the first time. “There ya happy?”
“Ehh, Gojo Satoru missing little ‘ol me?” Shoko laughs, teasing. “That’s so cringe.”
“Tch. Whatever.” Satoru feels his cheeks warm at the image of Shoko’s smiling face and the sound of her laugh, loud and tinkling through the speaker. He wishes he could be there to see it, wishes she was here with them. “I’m hanging up for real now.”
“I miss your dumbass too,” Shoko eventually admits, honest and easy, making the warmth on his face travel down to his chest and sending a smile on Satoru’s face despite the miles between them. “Anyway, I gotta go. See you soon.”
“Yeah,” Satoru breathes even as the other line already drops, imagines a time when they won’t be missing each other like this anymore. “See you soon.”
Satoru follows onto the patio after he’s done with the dishes.
Shoko is already there, having gone out to feed the kittens, and is now playing with them using a strung-up foam mouse on a stick.
“Hey, Shoko!” Satoru calls from inside. “You want me to get you a beer or something?”
“Nah. I’m good.”
Autumn is approaching fast and here, in this wayward seaside town, it starts getting cold around mid-August. Satoru drapes the wool blanket they’ve started to keep on the couch over Shoko’s shoulder. She smiles up at him in thanks.
“What? No beer or smokes tonight?” he asks as he sits beside her on the patio steps. She’d usually be on her second stick by the time Satoru was done in the kitchen. “You sick or something?”
“Not yet, but I think it’ll come soon.”
“Well, take some vitamins already. Can’t have the only town doctor for miles falling sick.” Shoko rarely gets sick but when she does, she makes for a horrible and stubborn patient. “What is it? You coming down with the flu or something?”
“Or something, yeah.”
As they fall into their usual routine of chatting and idly scrolling through their phones, the kittens wander off into the garden and start picking at the veggie patch. Satoru’s head shoots up like a dog sensing a squirrel when he feels anything messing with his beloved tomato plants.
“Oi!” he yells when one of the kittens starts digging around the potato row, while another seems to be sharpening its claws against the cabbage heads. “Get outta there, you little menaces!”
He sprints towards the vegetable patch and Shoko watches with no little humor at how he struggles to corral three kittens together long enough to shoo them all up and out of the radish row.
“Man,” Shoko wheezes when Satoru almost fell on his ass onto a kabocha . “How are you gonna chase after a toddler when you can’t even wrangle the kittens.”
“I so—Oi! Stop that!” Satoru picks the black one, Umi. “I so can! They’re just going in different directions and—aha!” He picks up the other two, Uji and Ara, and triumphantly walks back to Shoko with all three kittens in his arms. “See? Got them all now.”
“Yay,” Shoko cheers in a monotone as she takes one kitten from him.
It isn’t until the kittens have all calmed and are purring under his hands does something clicks.
“Shoko.”
“Yeah?”
“Why didn’t you want to have a drink?”
Shoko hums, sipping her tea, that Satoru has only now realized she’s been drinking, and that too is something. Shoko only drinks tea in the evening during winter and never barley. It is at this time that his brain helpfully reminds him that he hasn’t smelled the scent of tobacco or nicotine on her in nearly two months.
“Ah, well,” she shrugs. “It’s bad for the baby.”
“Oh,” Satoru says, breathes, and then, “Oh.”
He shifts closer to her, puts the kitten over her lap, and secures the afghan more snuggly around her before enclosing her in a tight embrace. When he turns to press a kiss on her temple, Shoko feels his lips stretch into a smile.
✵
Idle musings on happiness, a quote Shoko heard from a documentary preview the other day goes:
‘If you want to be happy for a year,’ the lady said, ‘get married.’
Shoko supposes she’s done that with Satoru. They went to the municipal hall to sign the papers and then to their favorite izakaya to celebrate. Satoru drank exactly one cup of Hakushika Chokara, got red to the roots of his snowy white hair, and promptly slumped against his new wife.
‘Wife,’ Shoko thinks, shaking her head as she does. She has been a wife for approximately ten months and fifteen days. That’s less than a year but she’s had Satoru since they were fifteen.
‘If you want to be happy for ten years,’ the lady continues, ‘get a dog.’
Well, they have three kittens and Shoko figures that’s the same equation as with getting a dog and they live longer too so that gives them forty-five to fifty, sixty, years give or take.
Then finally she says, ‘If you want to be happy for a lifetime, plant a garden.’
‘Well,’ Shoko thinks looking at their vegetable and herb patch in neat rows and the greenhouse that had taken Satoru all of a month to build, ‘that about takes care of a lifetime then.’