Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’m getting married,” Is what she says, nonchalantly, while they’re packed onto Yuji’s couch like sardines, watching, quite ironically, Four Weddings and a Funeral. She says it as though the film has jogged her memory, like it’s some small inconsequential thing, like announcing that she’s going to wear a blue sweater over a red one, or that she’s brought a new pair of shoes.

Megumi nearly chokes on his beer. 

Yuji pauses the film, craning his neck, lips twisted into a jovial smile, clearly not taking this sudden announcement seriously. Megumi’s hands feel cold. There isn’t a slight hint of jest in Nobara’s voice. She looks at both of them from her perch on the end of the couch, her legs resting over both of their laps– something neither of them protested, as their large frames took up most of Yuji’s horrific, tiny couch. Even though Nobara’s couch is larger and far more comfortable, they always have movie night at Yuji’s– at his insistence– because he’d gone out and purchased a big, swanky surround sound system and a 184 cm television with high definition. Reluctantly, both Nobara and Megumi had agreed that it would be cruel to let Yuji’s purchase go to waste, so every Saturday, they crammed themselves onto his couch and watched whatever film Yuji selected for them. 

Nobara clicks her teeth. 

“I’m serious.” 

“To–” Megumi coughs, clearing the beer from his throat. Attempting to regain some composure from Nobara’s sudden, shocking revelation. “To whom?” 

“Who do you think?” She says, boredly. 

Megumi and Yuji exchange a look. Yuji makes an awkward face, somewhere between a grimace and a pained smile. 

It wasn’t that the two of them didn’t like Noritoshi Kamo– well, perhaps Yuji didn’t at least; it was just that he and Nobara were an extremely unexpected pair. They’d started seeing each other casually a year ago, and she’d mentioned him occasionally, usually to blow off their plans. Their relationship was intensely private, with Nobara offering little information, other than the occasional quiet comment under her breath if they were fighting. 

It wasn’t that Megumi didn’t like Noritoshi Kamo– it was that he was neutral. He didn’t see them together often, and whenever he did…it was strange. Nobara acted like a completely different person. Much quieter. More passive. Completely unlike herself. Megumi had told himself that it was normal for people to change when they were in relationships, to mellow out. He’d filed his observations in the back of his mind. She seemed happy; that was all that mattered. 

“So...you’re…” Yuji starts. “To…Kamo?”

“Does he know that you’re getting married?” Megumi says, there’s a slight edge to his voice that surprises him. 

She knits her brow. 

“Yes–obviously, he’s the one who proposed— why are the two of you being so weird?” 

Megumi pauses, jaw hanging slightly slack. She’s correct– they are behaving strangely. Neither of them can put together the right words. It isn’t her age; she’s twenty-six, a reasonable albeit young age for marriage. It’s the fact that neither he nor Yuji have ever considered what will happen when one of them gets married, and if Megumi were to pick out who would be married first out of the three of them, it would certainly be Yuji, who’d been seeing Ozawa for years now. 

“So….” Megumi says awkwardly. Unsure of what to say, having only attended one wedding in his life– Yuta and Maki’s eight months ago. That felt way more natural than this. “So…..do you love him….then?”

“What kind of question is that?” Nobara says. She groans, dismissing him quickly. “I’m marrying him,”

That’s not an answer, Megumi thinks, spitefully. He blinks, surprised by the sudden surge of malice like a low rumbling tremor deep within his chest. 

It should be a simple question to answer, and yet Nobara can’t meet his eyes. 

She’s never been forthcoming about her emotions, preferring to bottle them up and seeing them as a sign of weakness. To the less astute, such as Yuji, some of Nobara’s small tells are hard to pick up on– Megumi catches them all. The way she adjusts the sleeve of her sweater right after he asks the question. The way she says “I’m marrying him”-- quickly and lowly, as though she’s trying to convince herself of her own convictions. 

“So…” Yuji says. “When did he….how did he propose?”

“Last weekend,” Nobara says. “I finally met his family… his mother invited me over for a family gathering, and he proposed. ”

“Wow, Nobara, that’s great,” Yuji smiles. He reaches over and gives her head a single awkward pat. 

“It was a family affair…..which was different, you know….family isn’t really my thing but…” Nobara pauses. “It was nice, you know? And because he did it in front of his family, we got loads of photos, so I didn’t even have to worry about making sure they got my good side– not that I really have a bad side– it’s just the eyepatch,” Nobara hums. 

Yuji smiles. Megumi tries everything in his power to hide his horror. A public proposal? In front of his whole family. Megumi has never thought about marriage or proposing, but he knows that a public proposal sounds like hell on itself– much worse than something that someone as private as Nobara would dislike. Nobara tends to freeze on the spot, and she’s paid terribly for it, having lost an eye in Shibuya. Ever since, she’s hated surprises. On Christmas and birthdays, she gives everyone the exact gift they are to get for her. She’s picky about her missions; hell, she can’t even handle jumpscares in movies. She doesn’t like affection, barely ever letting Yuji hug her. The thought of her being proposed to in public seems so obviously out of place that it’s almost laughable. 

Megumi holds his tongue. It isn’t his place. If she says she’s happy, she’s happy. Maybe that’s all the evidence he needs– evidence that she really does love Kamo. If it were anyone else, he’s certain that she’d have dumped him on the spot, and then rounded up his things into a cardboard box and lit it on fire. 

Still, he can’t help but feel a sense of shock and unease. She’s not doing anything to dispel his suspicions. Tapping her fingers on her thighs nervously, like she’s some rebellious teenager confessing to running around with some boy– she’s been with Kamo for a year, and Yuji and Megumi are her friends. She shouldn’t be nervous. They’re her closest friends, and they’ve tried to make an effort with Kamo, whenever he’s been around them, which hasn’t been more than once or twice, because he’s always overseas seeing family or on missions. The Kamo family was in and out of the country, with many of the branches having relocated years ago before the Shinjuku showdown. On the few occasions that they had been out with Nobara and Kamo, Megumi had made conversation, and Yuji had brought him a drink. It was awkward, but they’d been courteous. If Nobara was happy, they had no reason to find fault with him— he wasn’t a bad person by any means– save for that one time he’d tried to kill Yuji–water under the bridge, was what Yuji had said when Megumi mentioned it offhandedly. Sure, Kamo had fled before Shinjuku, but he’d faced consequences, and he’d redeemed himself. The only surprising thing was that Nobara– who could hold grudges like no other- had somehow forgiven him. 

It wasn’t Megumi’s business. 

He kept repeating it over and over in his head. It wasn’t his business. He had no right to ask questions. No right to scrutinise her happiness. He didn’t understand it, but sometimes people, especially friends, made choices beyond comprehension. 

“The wedding is in six months,” Nobara says. “And Kamo’s agreed to make the two of you groomsmen—I wanted to make you bridesmen or whatever it’s called, but Kamo’s family is pretty traditional, so I don’t think that would go down well–”

But what do you want? Megumi thinks, astounded that Nobara– stubborn, obstinate Nobara, is letting someone else dictate something about her wedding. 

And then there’s the time scale. Six months. Six months feels like a gut punch. 

“Six months,” Megumi says, attempting to sound neutral. “That’s…fast.”

“Well, Kamo’s family are all over the place, so it’s hard to get them all in one place at the same time,” Nobara shrugs. “Kamo’s mother suggested spring, because they do this whole family meeting every two years, so it’s either six months or waiting another two years.”

Then wait two years. Megumi thinks cynically. Why rush. Marriage is a big deal, especially in JuJutsu society– especially when a major clan is involved. 

Kamo had regained his position as heir, which meant that there was probably some vetting process. There would be loads of paperwork involved, an iron-clad prenup, for example. The Zenin clan’s marriage rules had been revised– Maki had killed off the majority of the clan but had spared the wives and children, leaving him responsible for them. Maki and he had worked through everything together, making appropriate amendments to the strict rules which the family had been following for centuries. The old marriage protocol for the clan was strict, and Maki had told him about all of it offhandedly at the rehearsal dinner for her wedding. She’d asked him to give a speech, being the de facto head of the  Zenin clan, part of some old sorcerer tradition. The clans took marriage seriously. Once someone was in, they were in. 

“Well, aren’t you two going to congratulate me?” Nobara says, smiling only with her mouth. Her one eye looks strangely still and serious. A slight glimmer of worry flashes through them, quick as lightning. 

“Congratulations,” Yuji beams. 

“Congrats,” Megumi says curtly. 

Yuji restarts the movie. Megumi sips his beer. He doesn’t realise that his fist is clenched until the credits start rolling. 

“She can be overbearing,” Noritoshi says. The gate swings open, and Nobara catches sight of the obscene house before her. So opulent, she’s unsure of where the house starts and ends. 

Sometimes, the level of wealth she’s exposed to astounds her. When she was in high school, it had been Gojo’s shirts, which had cost an unspeakable amount– she still cringes when she thinks about that time she spilt coffee all over one. Those photos of Megumi as a child, wearing coats which cost 260,000 yen. The way that Maki would casually mention her parents' multiple properties– everything about Mei Mei generally. To put it simply, JuJutsu Society had serious money. 

When she started dating Noritoshi, she made a substantial effort to appear unfazed by the ridiculous wealth she was constantly surrounded by. She wouldn’t blink when he’d pay for an extortionate meal, usually at a stuffy restaurant where the food wasn’t all that good. She had a few luxury items in her wardrobe, but had retired all of her items which heavily featured logos. She wanted to be liked by him, to be seen as someone who was his equal. 

Growing up, her background never used to bother her. She wasn’t poor, but she wasn’t wealthy. Just average. JuJutsu tech had been her first complete change of perspective, dating Noritoshi had been her second. 

He’d asked her out after they’d been stuck in the infirmary together for a few days. Initially, she’d found him irritating, slightly brooding and sardonic, but not like Fushiguro was, who was her point of reference for moody, sensitive types. Noritoshi was the opposite. Brooding yet blunt. He’d asked her out at the end of their three-day stint in the infirmary by telling her that she was “not bad looking” and “a passable conversationalist”; she’d been so offended that she’d agreed to a date with the sole purpose of teaching him a lesson– hoping to charm him and then break his heart, leaving him begging for more. 

She’d failed. 

He was far more agreeable than she’d been expecting. With a dry sense of humour, he was actually quite chivalrous– holding out the door for her, and her chair, picking her up and dropping her off at her apartment– not expecting to come in. 

When he asked her for a second date, she couldn’t think of a single reason to turn him down. 

They had a good relationship. It was comfortable. He travelled a lot, for missions and to manage the Kamo family, something which seemed to be extremely delicate and complex. She didn’t understand clan dynamics, and one early boundary that she had set was that she was to be excluded from all of his clan bullshit. 

They got along, they had fun together. He didn’t impose on her life or overextend himself into her affairs. She hung out with Megumi, Yuji, and Maki whenever she wanted. It was a perfect arrangement. 

“Mmm,” Nobara says, eyeing the shutting gates in the rearview mirror. “Is this your way of apologising for the mother ambush?”

He’d picked her up from her place, having told her that they were going out for dinner, and his GPS had quickly betrayed him, blurting out that they were going to what he had labelled “mummy’s” in his phone. 

“Sorry,” He pauses. “I knew you wouldn’t have agreed if I told you, you get weird and flighty when we talk about family–” 

“I’m not really used to big families,” Nobara says quietly. “It was just Granny and me going up, so big families aren’t really my thing.” 

“Well, you’ll have to get used to it,” Noritoshi says, parking the car and slipping out of it with clinical efficiency. 

Her door swings open, and Noritoshi stands, hand extended for her to take. Delicately, she lowers her hand into his and steps out of the car. She looks down at her legs, glad that she’s wearing stockings, but she’d been told she was going to dinner and had opted for a dress that was slightly too short for meeting your boyfriend's mother. She gulped. 

Noritoshi led her inside. The house was, of course, ridiculous. An old Japanese-style house that was more of a compound than a simple family home. She took off her shoes, placing them in the cubby upon entrance. A maid took her coat, whisking it away to a cloak room. The walls were covered in art, historic depictions of ancient sorcerers. A few modern pieces that she was certain she recognised. She shuffled along awkwardly, trying to hold back the discomfort which was rising up her throat. That horrible feeling, that she didn’t fit in places like these, that everyone was going to be able to tell that she was just some country bumpkin. Were they eating? She was wracked with nerves at the prospect of meeting Noritoshi’s mother, who would probably hate her– what if she used the wrong set of utensils when eating and completely embarrassed herself?

Externally, she held her cool, attempting to run through her interaction with his mother internally. She would bow. She would use the correct honorifics. She wouldn’t speak plainly and would refrain from any slang or rude turns of speech. 

She paused as she went past a mirror, adjusting her appearance. Alarm bells rang. She stared at her face. Her ginger hair fell just beneath her collarbones. Her eyepatch was the only imperfection marking an otherwise impeccable face. What would his mother think of her missing eye? Why did Nobara care what this random woman, whom she didn’t know, thought— 

It’s because you care about Noritoshi so much, she thinks. This calms her down. Around him, she’s her normal self– is she? She’s questioning everything, terrified by the prospect of his mother not liking her. A strange new feeling. Normally, if someone didn’t like her, she’d tell them to bugger off, but she can’t– this is her boyfriend's mother. Nobara has to be likeable. 

Noritoshi leads her into a room that’s full of people, all mingling as what seems like catering staff wander around with drinks on trays. Nobara feels completely out of her depth in this sea of designer dresses and kimonos, the older generation donning traditional clothing. 

A tall woman stands in the centre of the room. She must be in her fifties. She’s dressed impeccably, in an ornate crimson coloured kimono. Not a single hair is out of place. Her eyes are dark and sharp, and when she sees Noritoshi, her red lips broaden into a smile. 

“That’s mother,” Noritoshi whispers. 

Nobara bows deeply as the woman approaches her, looking her over with those dark eyes of hers. Nobara lifts her head, and the woman gives her a stiff smile. 

“You must be Kugisaki,” Noritoshi’s mother says calmly, without any exertion. Nobara can see that this woman has control over every muscle in her face. 

“Yes,” Nobara nods. Lowering her eyes. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Noritoshi’s mother says. “Please feel free to call me Hiromi.”

Hiromi reaches forward, taking a strand of Nobara’s hair into her hands. 

“How unusual– is it dyed?” She asks. 

“Yes,” Nobara says. Feeling her cheeks redden from the unexpected contact. Her hands feel warm and clammy. 

Hiromi inspects her like she’s a prize horse, eyeing up every inch of her. Nobara shrinks under her gaze; everyone’s eyes are on her. 

Hiromi turns her attention to her son. Giving me a slight nod. 

“Well, she’s very pretty. I’m surprised that a hair colour so….indescrete….could suit anyone….You’ve done well, Noritoshi,” Hiromi says. She gives Nobara a smile that seems slightly too wide. 

Hiromi reaches forward, cupping Nobara’s cheek gently. 

“It’s such a shame about that eyepatch,” Hiromi tuts. “You poor thing. No wonder you spent such a long time being….overlooked….oh, if only I could get my hands on whoever was responsible for giving you such a terrible injury….”

Nobara pauses, unsure of Hiromi’s tone, unable to decide if she’s pitying her, mocking her or both. 

“It isn’t all that bad,” Nobara says, scratching the back of her neck. “I get free rides all of the time because I can’t drive. Makes me feel like I have a chauffeur”

Hiromi lifts a hand to cover her mouth, letting out a neat little laugh. 

“Noritoshi,” Hiromi smiles. “Isn’t she funny?”

Noritoshi pauses. 

“She is,” 

Nobara looks up at him. There’s a slightly distant look in his eyes. 

There’s an awkward silence as she fumbles around, trying to find something to say. She swallows her discomfort. This is his family– and they have been going out for nearly a year now. She hates how hard this thing is for her, resenting her own family dynamics. She’s never had a mother in her life. She doesn’t know where to begin when it comes to appeasing Hiromi Kamo, who has this glamorous and cool air about her, which mystifies her. 

Nobara smiles. 

“Your Kimono is beautiful,” She says confidently. 

“Thank you,” Hiromi nods. 

Nobara looks at Noritoshi, who leads her away. 

She worries. Unsure of the impression she’s left on his mother. The rest of the evening passes, and she’s introduced to various aunts, cousins and uncles. Grandparents, great-grandparents. Names fly through the air, and she tries to commit all of them to memory. She isn’t the most tactful conversationalist, especially not in these stuffy high-class situations, but manages to survive when one of Noritoshi's uncles asks her about her technique and her sorcery career. 

Something was different in the air. The way Noritoshi seemed slightly alert, nervous. The knowing winks from the aunts. Nobara should have known that something was the matter, but she was too busy attempting to put on a front, not wanting to embarrass herself in front of everyone who was near and dear to him. 

Near the end of the evening, it happens. Noritoshi picks up a glass and knocks a spoon against it. The whole room falls silent, and Nobara’s heart pounds in her chest. She stands next to him, and he lowers the glass onto a table. 

He turns to face her, and this is when Nobara begins to recognise what may be about to happen. Her mouth opens slightly as she watches him drop to one knee, taking her hand into his. His fingers were cold from the condensation on the glass. 

As he reached into his pocket, Nobara’s chest tightened. Time seemed to slow, and an eternity passed between Noritoshi kneeling and producing a deep red jewellery box from his pocket. The room fell away, as though she were standing in the middle of a spotlight. 

“Nobara Kugisaki,” He begins. 

A cold chill descended down her spine. She clenched her toes and took a sharp breath. 

It’s shock, she repeats to herself. She was in shock. They hadn’t had a conversation about marriage, and this proposal is completely unexpected. Shock is the only explanation for why she feels like she wants to jump out of her skin, or the slight tremor coursing through her fingers. 

She stares down at him. Smiling. Trying to smile. She needed to smile. Smiling was the only appropriate response, and her temporary emotional dysregulation was of little concern to her. Noritoshi was someone she cared about. This was a good thing. 

“Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” 

The question pushes all of the air out of the room. It looms over her. A heavy question. 

She’s feeling an overwhelming amount of emotions, completely unable to put a name to any of them. She feels her eye grow wet, and a stray tear falls down one of her blushed cheeks. A tear– a tear of happiness. That’s what it had to be– she was frozen from shock, and that strong emotion that seemed to overcome her had to be happiness. It was normal for people to cry when being proposed to– surely. 

Noritoshi looked up at her, expectantly. The urgency in his eyes brought her back to reality. She was at his family home, surrounded by his parents, his aunts, his cousins, all of them were waiting– waiting to hear her answer. She looked up, making quick eye contact with Hiromi, who gave her a small nod. 

Nobara took a breath. 

“Yes,” She says hurriedly. She pauses. Wiping away her tears. She slows down. “Yes, Noritoshi, of course….of course I’ll….my answer is….”

Her chest tightens. 

“Yes.” She says, smiling. 

He smiles up at her, sliding the ring, which she hasn’t even looked at, on her finger. It’s a gold ring, with a sizeable diamond in the centre surrounded by smaller ones. She stares at it for a few moments– it’s a cluster ring. She’s never been fond of them, but she can tell that this one is particularly expensive. 

Noritoshi stands and kisses her. She shuts her eyes. Happy tears, she repeats. Happy tears. 

“Can we see your ring, Miss Kugisaki?” Hasegawa says, Kirino at her side. Both of them looked wide-eyed, with toothy grins on their faces. 

They stand in their tracksuits, having broken off from the rest of the second years who were still running laps around the track. He and Nobara taught the second years, Yuji and Todo took the first years, and Maki, Inumaki, and Yuta taught the third years. Nobara shifted from side to side next to him, clearly uncomfortable. News about her engagement had spread around the school, and she’d been unable to avoid the seemingly endless deluge of congratulations from her students and coworkers. 

“You two have three laps left,” Megumi says. Noting Nobara’s flustered expression. Out of the second year, Hasegawa and Kirino are the only girls– and Nobara’s favourite students. “You shouldn’t pry into your instructors' private lives,”

“Oh come on, Mr Fushiguro–” He winces as they call him that, he still feels uncomfortable being referred to so formally, it makes him feel old. Hasegawa turns away from him, addressing Nobara directly. She places a hand on her hip. 

“Kirino and I are dying to see it,” Hasegawa says. 

“Please, Miss Kugisaki, it’s all we’ve been talking about,” Kirino purses her lips. “You’re always wearing cool jewellery and clothes, so I bet the ring is really pretty,”

Nobara’s cheeks redden. Megumi smirks. It’s always funny to watch how easily flattery works on her. 

“Well…” Nobara starts with her usual fake-humility act. “I would show it to you, but I don’t have it on me at the moment.”

“Aww,” Kirino says. Hasegawa and she exchange a glance.

Nobara’s eyes are distant; she fiddles with her necklace absentmindedly, and now that Megumi thinks about it, she hasn’t shown him and Yuji the ring yet. Something completely unusual, considering that Nobara has always made a point of showing them her new clothing and jewellery. It’s been two weeks since she told them, and she’s volunteered no further information. She’s been unfocused on missions, out of it during classes. He assumes that she’s distracted by the quick timescale– only six months to plan a wedding. Something that seems almost completely unachievable. 

Megumi stares out at the other second years, who are on their final lap, panting as they run. Kirino and Hasegawa avoid his eye contact when he refocuses his attention on them. 

“Get back to training,” He orders. 

Kirino scowls. Hasegawa shrugs. They both saunter off, and he’s certain he hears Kirino grumble “hardass” under her breath. They both lag behind their peers. After the run is finished, they’ll have them partner off and spar against each other. Since the Kyoto and Sendai campuses were closed down, classes were much larger and far more competitive. 

Nobara lets go of her necklace; her hand falls slack to her side. She’s dressed in her usual all black get-up. Her ginger hair is tied back into a ponytail, which flutters in the wind. Her brown eye looks slightly downcast, and she’s suspiciously quiet. 

He shouldn’t ask. He knows something is wrong, but he doesn’t want to pry into her personal life. He doesn’t want to risk letting his opinion slip. That he thinks planning a wedding in six months is ridiculous– and can’t for the life of him understand why she wouldn’t wait two years. Was there some hidden reason for the expediency? Was she pregnant? He hoped that wasn’t the case, especially since they had a full week of missions next week. He couldn’t imagine Nobara having kids anytime soon– and there was no way that she would keep one, not when she was so close to being promoted to a grade one sorcerer. 

After being out of commission for so long, her promotion had lapsed, and the grading system had become much harsher. Some sorcerers were promoted, others demoted, to adjust for the obscenely powerful generation of sorcerers which had come out of the culling games. Nobara was presently a semi-grade one, something that she was slightly sensitive about, considering the fact that Megumi and Yuji had been promoted to special grades, Yuji first, and Megumi a couple of years later. Missions were assigned strictly to minimise the loss of sorcerer lives. 

The reforms had been good, but Nobara had been working tirelessly over the past few years to ascend the ranks. She’d accepted that she was unlikely to become a special grade with the limitations of straw doll, but had committed herself to attaining grade one status. She trained extremely hard, often working herself to the point of exhaustion, sparring against sorcerers who were far more adept fighters. Her career was important to her, and everything was finally starting to line up– it was clear that by the end of the year, she would be promoted to grade one. 

It’s why he couldn’t understand why she wasn’t waiting to get married. 

Nobara stares out at the students. Kirino and Hasegawa are on their last lap, and the rest of the second years have gathered around the finish to jeer at them, clearly aggrieved by their decision to try and get out of endurance training. Her eyes are practically glazed over. 

“Are you okay?” Megumi says. 

Normally, when they teach together, she’s always talking his ear off or making witty quips about their students. He doesn’t like this uneasy sense of quiet which has gathered between them. 

“Yeah,” She says, far too quickly. “Why?”

This is when he should stop. What business does he have commenting on the absence of a smile on her face or her slight nervous energy? He doesn’t stop; the silence is unbearable. 

“You don’t seem like yourself today.”

She cranes her neck and snorts; she fixes him with a disapproving look, but it’s half-hearted.  

“I’ve had a lot going on,” She says, blinking quickly. “You try planning a wedding,” 

She brings a hand to her forehead, shutting her eye. He watches as her chest rises and falls sharply, as she takes a ragged breath. 

“It’s only been a couple of weeks–”

“I’m getting married in six months.” Nobara sighs. “I thought it would be fine because I don’t have to worry about the venue, but there’s just so much that needs to be done and….”

She shakes her head and removes her hand, smiling. 

“What am I saying– It’ll be fine.” She says, clearly not wanting to elaborate anymore. 

“Well…” He pauses. “Let me know if you need anything—”

“Cool,” Nobara says, looking away. She makes her way forward, hammer raised. 

He watches as she barks out orders, corralling the second years into groups. She’s quiet for the rest of the training session, watching as he takes the lead, correcting stances and troubleshooting Kirino’s cursed energy reinforcement that she’s been having trouble with. On occasion, he looks back at Nobara, who gives off the occasional piece of advice, hand in pocket, fiddling with something that he can’t see. Right as the session ends, he catches a glimpse of it, a flash of silver revealing itself in her palm momentarily. The ring she’d claimed not to have on her person. 

Seeing it makes the inside of his mouth taste like tin. 

“I can’t believe Nobara’s bailed on movie night,” Yuji says, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. Megumi watches, half disgusted, half impressed by the sheer volume of food Yuji paws into his mouth. 

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” Megumi says, crinkling his nose. 

Tonight, they were watching The Shining. Nobara had texted their group chat earlier, saying that she couldn’t make it– dinner with the future in-laws was what the text had said. Something about the way she had phrased it– in-laws, had made him feel a slight pang of discomfort. Nobara wasn’t just marrying Kamo; she was marrying into the Kamo clan, with all of the things that came along with it, including clan succession planning. 

The life of a clan head was far more relaxed nowadays– and unlike Megumi, Kamo likely wouldn’t take over for another decade or so. Megumi was the exception to the rule, having clan leadership thrust onto him years ago. The Zenin clan today was more of a loose idea. He’d made the executive decision to end their silly separate grading system and decided that all Zenin children would be educated and trained through JuJutsu tech– a partially selfish choice, considering that he didn’t want to be wholly responsible for them. The next generation of Zenin sorcerers wasn’t as powerful as their predecessors, but far more well-rounded– it was too early to assess their limits, but Yuji had good things to say about the Zenin's first years he was training. 

Megumi watches as Yuji chews, leaning against the side of the couch. He sips his beer, which tastes slightly acrid. The opening credits play, and Megumi’s phone buzzes. He checks it quickly, a text from Maki asking him if he’s up for a spar sometime next week. He agrees. 

Yuji wipes his hands together. He leans forward and grabs hold of the remote, pausing the movie. Megumi stills, as he feels Yuji’s eyes on him. Megumi turns his neck to see Yuji looking at him curiously. 

“What?” Megumi groans. 

“So…” Yuji starts, crossing one leg over the other. “Nobara’s….getting married,” 

“Yeah,” Megumi says gruffly. “And what about it?”

Yuji eyed him, a discerning look upon his face. He taps his fingers on his knee. 

“Uh…nothing…forget it,” Yuji says. “Just unexpected,”

“It’s none of our business,” Megumi says. “All that matters is that she’s happy,” 

“Yeah…” Yuij says. 

Megumi eyes the remote. He takes a long swig of beer before setting the bottle down on the coffee table. The Shining was a long movie, and movie night felt weird without Nobara. It felt wrong to talk about her in her absence. Nobara’s wedding was the last thing he wanted to talk about–the last thing he wanted to think about. 

He hadn’t stopped thinking about the ring. Why had she lied to Hasegawa and Kirino? It was completely unlike Nobara to lie about something like that, and the fact that she was carrying it around with her in her pocket, loosely, as though she weren’t afraid to lose it. There was always the probability that he was overthinking; they were training, there were a million reasons as to why she wasn’t wearing it–just like there were plausible explanations for her sudden onset of emotional distance, that slightly despondent look in her eyes. She was just stressed, and he, as her friend, ought to have accepted her explanation. 

Itadori restarts the film, taking the popcorn bowl back into his lap. Megumi reaches over, taking a small handful and placing a few kernels into his mouth. 

If he were the kind of person who could ignore the small things, perhaps Nobara’s odd behaviour would have flown under his radar. It would be easier to ignore the doubts that were spreading through his chest. What mattered was that she was happy, and who was he to question her happiness? Who was he to tell her that he was worried that she might be making a mistake? 

Yuji leans forward abruptly, placing the bowl down. He pauses the movie again. 

“Do we……..like Kamo?” Yuji says, scrunching his nose. 

Megumi pauses. What does he think about Noritoshi Kamo? Not very much– Noritoshi Kamo occupies no fixed space in his brain. Of course, there were his transgressions from ten years ago, trying to kill Yuji, claiming that he and Megumi were of the same ilk, which Megumi had refuted. He’d fled overseas, not wanting to participate in Shinjuku– something that Megumi didn’t hold against him. 

“He’s okay,” Megumi says. “I don’t have anything against the guy–”

“I don’t mean as a person–” Yuji continues. “Do we like him as Nobara’s future husband?”

“As….Nobara’s….husband?” Megumi repeats dumbly, having not really processed anything beyond the wedding itself. 

He’s suddenly overcome with the full implication of Nobara and Kamo’s marriage. She’d no longer be Nobara Kugisaki, but Nobara Kamo. Did that last name even suit her? Their students would address her differently. He’d have to address her differently. There was the possibility of future children coming from her union with Kamo. He can’t envision it. A child with her eyes and Kamo’s hair— or maybe Kamo’s eyes and her eyes? It’s then that Megumi realises that if he were asked what colour Kamo’s eyes were, he’d be completely clueless. He always had that slightly serene yet coy look on his face. Eyes were the window to the soul, and it was impossible to get a read on what Noritoshi Kamo was thinking most of the time. 

“Well, yeah, dude– that’s what happens when you get married,” Yuji says. He lowers his eyes. “I’m only asking because–”

“Drop it,” Megumi shakes his head. 

He has to draw a red line somewhere. Nobara is getting married. There’s no point in questioning her choice because he knows that when Nobara’s mind is set, it won’t change. 

“Stop!” Megumi’s voice rings out. The staff being wielded by Tawada hits his hand with a loud thwack, right before it’s about to smack Nobara clean in the face. 

Nobara blinks, staring at Megumi’s back, realising that she’s completely zoned out in the middle of a spar with one of her students and that if the staff had hit her, it would have hit her just above her right eye, potentially endangering it with Tawada’s extreme strength. 

Megumi cranes his neck; it’s clear that he’s unimpressed with her. Normally, she’s far more attentive, matching her student’s every step. Today, she’s distracted. Her mind is wandering to all sorts of places, most of them unproductive. Her calendar for the next couple of weeks is full. She’s got to meet with a graphic designer to design and print her invitations, and she’s got to start calling around bridal shops to book appointments. It’s been a month since the proposal, and five months remain– which isn’t a lot of time. She’s spent the past week making a bridal binder, full of magazine cutouts and printed pictures from Pinterest. She’s collected business cards from florists and caterers. The Kamo family has a property in Kyoto that they’ll use for the venue, and she’ll have to see if she can find a caterer in Kyoto, which means booking train tickets at some point. She needs to make her bridesmaid boxes– she’s asking Maki, Fumi, Yuko and Miwa. She’s made list upon list of everyone who needs to be invited, including all of the members of Kamo’s family whom she’s been trying to memorise by name. 

Her most recent dinner with Kamo’s parents had increased the pressure. Hiromi’s tastes were refined beyond Nobara’s wildest imaginations, and Nobara struggled to navigate the unspoken social rules of the ultra-wealthy. Hiromi had handed her the wine menu and instructed her to select something. Nobara had panicked and chosen the second-cheapest bottle of white, and Hiromi had chuckled and commented that Nobara was frugal in a tone which made it clear that she was unimpressed by Nobara’s choice. It had enraged her,  but she’d held down her anger. Hiromi was someone whom Nobara couldn’t place. She had a clear magnetism; she was completely charming, graceful. Her nails were always done, and she never had a single hair out of place. She was constantly oscillating between hot and cold, here nor there. Nobara couldn’t decide if she loved Hiromi or hated her, but Hiromi was the kind of person that you wanted to be liked by, which made things all the more difficult for Nobara. 

Hiromi was motherly, responsible. She spoke highly of Noritoshi, which made Nobara’s heart expand, having seldom seen healthy parental relationships. It made her all the more aware of her own absence of a mother figure in her own life. Her grandmother was too old, and their age gap meant that they often struggled to relate to one another. Hiromi was trendy, always wearing expensive jewellery or holding an expensive purse, which made other women in the room burn with envy. 

Megumi looked away, Nobara’s cheeks flushed from embarrassment. She’d made a point to stop allowing the boys to save her, so much so that even something simple like this made her feel as though she’d regressed back to her sixteen-year-old self, who was always being snatched away by unknown enemies.

This enemy wasn’t unknown, nor was he an enemy. It was Tawada. Sweet, bespectacled Tawada, who often forgot his own strength. 

“Tawada,” Megumi says, letting go of the staff. “Remember, this is just a spar. If Miss Kugisaki looks like she isn’t paying attention, don’t attack,”

Tawada’s face flushes. He bows deeply. 

“S-sorry, Miss Kugisaki,” Tawada says. 

Nobara raises a hand. 

“Don’t worry about it.” She says, feigning a smile. 

She curses herself. She shouldn’t be letting her stress interfere with her work. She has a lot of planning to do, but Hiromi has offered to help. Noritoshi has tried to offer, but he seems to have an endless onslaught of missions overseas, making him too unreliable at the moment. 

Megumi doesn’t look at her; he sends Tawada off to spar with another student before turning to face her. He tilts his head, gesturing towards the stands. 

“Let’s talk,” He says. 

She nods. It isn’t fair for her to dump all of her teaching responsibilities on him, even with the wedding. They make their way over to the stands, sitting side by side. He’s quiet. 

“Is everything okay…” He says, finally breaking the silence. “I haven’t seen you get caught off guard in years.”

She pauses. This is the second time in the past few weeks that he’s asked. 

“No,” She admits. “It’s the wedding. There’s too much to do, and Noritoshi isn’t going to be much help.”

She reaches into her pocket. Pulling out the ring. She looks down at it, staring at the gaudy design. It isn’t a ring that she would choose, and she hasn’t worn it once since the proposal. Hiromi had commented on it the other day at dinner. 

It doesn’t matter, she thinks. It’s just a ring. An expensive ring. She’d managed to find it online, and the price had made her eyes double in size. Noritoshi probably spent ages picking it out, and she didn’t want to seem ungrateful. She’d thought about delicately telling him that it wasn’t to her tastes, but couldn’t bring herself to do so, not wanting to come across as shallow. He’d taken the time to plan out the proposal, introduced her to his family. It was just an object. It didn’t quantify what he felt for her.

What did they feel for each other? It was a question that seemed foolish to ask; they were getting married, and they had been seeing each other for a year. Still, the other night, as she was tossing and turning in her bed, she had realised that she’d never heard him say “I love you”. Neither of them was the sentimental type, so she’d never thought much of it. There was also the possibility that she was mistaken, and that he had said it, but she’d just forgotten. Either way, it did not matter; such thoughts were useless– even if he hadn’t said it, the proposal and the ring were all the proof that she needed. 

“Is that the ring?” Megumi asks. 

“Of course it is, idiot,” Nobara says defensively. 

Without thinking, she deposits it into his hand. He examines it. 

“Huge right,” Nobara says. Megumi looks at it scornfully. 

Yeah, Megumi thinks, like he’s trying to compromise for something.

Megumi is quiet, still. The ring isn’t what he would choose, and worst of all, it isn’t really Nobara. He stares at the band of small diamonds which circles a large diamond set in the middle. The sunlight reflects off the precious stones, casting prismatic shadows onto his palms. He eyes her necklace, a simple silver pendant hanging from a small chain. This ring isn’t something he’d ever picture her wearing in a million years. 

He hands the ring back to her. Unsure of how to proceed. He looks away. What does he know about wedding rings? 

“It isn’t very me,” Nobara says. Turning to him, she presses her lips into a hard line. “But that’s not important– is it?”

His throat feels dry. 

The mature thing to do would be to tell her that it’s just a ring. It’s a material object, a mere symbol of a marriage, not the marriage itself. A ring is inconsequential—a small thing. Or perhaps it was far larger; it was important to know the preferences of the person you were marrying. If Kamo could mess something so simple up– what did that say about how he regarded Nobara’s feelings– if he even knew them at all. 

Megumi felt a sudden bitterness overcome him. A feeling of disdain, brought on by seeing Nobara, who was a friend, being forced into what seemed an impossible situation. It was a ring that she’d have to wear every day for the rest of her life– until death or divorce, whatever came first. The shame associated with divorce was plentiful in civilian and sorcerer society alike– and knowing Nobara’s strong sense of pride, it was likely that she’d take the former over the latter. Dying, still upset about Kamo’s choice in the ring. 

“If you don’t like it, you should say something,” He offers. He steals another look at it, cringing slightly. Even with his limited knowledge of jewellery, he can tell that it isn’t something that a woman would pick out. “It isn’t like Kamo can’t afford a replacement,”

Nobara snorts at that. She shakes her head, slipping the ring back into her pocket. 

“I’m surprised you aren’t calling me materialistic,” She says. 

“Well, you are,” He shrugs, it isn’t something she’s ever been quick to deny. Things matter to Nobara– every item in her wardrobe is hand-selected with utmost care. She can go shopping for hours on end, and she takes care of her clothes, still having pieces that she’d purchased back when they were in school. 

“Thanks,” Nobara says, clearly annoyed. 

“We’re all pretty materialistic,” Megumi says, diffusing the slight tension. “Yuji’s obsessed with his sneakers, I’m pretty partial to an expensive winter coat. If you hate the ring, replace it.”

He delivers his advice coolly and confidently, but in truth, he’s the last person to have an opinion or to tell her what to do. Kamo is reasonable and somewhat rational, and it’s unlikely that he’ll deny Nobara’s request. If he doesn’t, it would be telling; the ring was something small, it wasn’t worth creating any friction. 

He looks at Nobara. She stands, adjusting her trousers. Wordlessly, she makes her way back over to the students. He watches as she talks to Tawada, one hand on her waist, the other wielding her hammer. 

No two loves are the same. 

She walks along the street, eyeing the teenage couples who giggle and look at each other like puppy dogs. So sickly sweet that it makes her gag. She doesn’t feel any resentment, but rests in the knowledge that only the young can love like that, so naively, completely unimpeded by the harsh realities of the world. Maturity sharpens one’s mind, refines it. She’s much too old to engage in the fickle, fuzzy courtship games which teenagers partake in. 

In this way, what Kamo offers her is preferable. A simple relationship without any pretence. Neither side is attempting to disrupt the other. Healthy boundaries. Once Noritoshi had told her that she was surprisingly low maintenance– emotionally, that is. She’d taken that as a compliment, not wanting to rely on others for the emotional labour which she was perfectly capable of doing herself. 

Tonight, she was meeting Noritoshi at a cafe for a quick dinner. She had an early start tomorrow, heading out on a mission with the boys. Noritoshi had some overseas business to attend to and would be away for the next month. He’d been reasonably helpful so far, as much as he could be. He didn’t teach, meaning that he tended to be sent on long missions, going on missions which spanned multiple weeks. He’d given a little bit of input on the flowers and the colours. She wanted a western ceremony, not being interested in tradition– this was a minor source of friction, so much so that Noritoshi had suggested wearing traditional dress for the wedding and switching to western dress for the reception, or having two services. Nobara was firm with her opinion, having never envisioned herself in a traditional wedding dress. All of her wedding fantasies from when she was younger had been specific. 

Besides, Noritoshi had already exercised choice, having unilaterally selected the ring and sprung the proposal on her at a family event. She’d seen the photos, she’d been grateful for the sheer number, but had cringed when she’d seen the obvious look of surprise on her face. She had to admit, it was abnormal to propose without any prior discussion. Maki had known practically everything about Okkotsu’s proposal– they’d gone out to get their nails done a few days prior, and Maki had coyly alluded to the fact that she’d accidentally found the ring in Okkotsu’s coat jacket and had deduced the timing when Okkotsu had suggested they go on a weekend vacation seemingly out of nowhere. 

Nobara opened the door, stepping into the cafe. She peeled her coat off, draping it over her forearm. She turned, searching the cafe for Noritoshi. She caught sight of his familiar dark head of hair; he’d kept it relatively short, never letting it get as long as it had during his time at school. Her eyes widened as she realised that he wasn’t alone; sitting next to him was Hiromi, wearing an emerald silk blouse. Her hair was pinned up neatly, and a silver brooch shaped like a beetle was pinned against the left side of her blouse. 

Nobara paused, feeling slight surprise to see Hiromi. Noritoshi had made no mention of her coming along, not that Nobara was upset to see her– just surprised.  Nobara made her way over to the table, putting on a polite smile. Noritoshi stood and placed his fingers on her lower back, pressing a kiss on her cheek. 

She looked at him, eyes so narrow that she could barely make out any expression on his seemingly impassable face. 

“Kugisaki,” Hiromi says, not standing. 

Nobara bows. 

“Kamo,” 

“Please– call me Hiromi,” Hiromi says, smiling so tightly that her crows' feet look as though they’re about to jump off of her face. “Sit,”

Nobara sits, draping her jacket over the back of her chair. She gives Hiromi a cordial smile. 

“I didn’t realise you’d be joining us,” Nobara says. 

She feels a sudden streak of discomfort—Hiromi’s strained smile.  This feels like an ambush, rather than a simple dinner. 

“Well, Noritoshi and I were out shopping–” She starts, Nobara eyes the shopping bags on the ground, all luxury labels. “-- and he mentioned that he would have to cut our time short as he was meeting you,”

Nobara pauses. Is it irritation she hears? 

“Mum suggested coming along,” Noritoshi says. “She wanted to spend some more time with me, as I’m heading to Hong Kong tomorrow– you don’t mind, do you? I thought you wouldn’t.”

She feigns a smile. Shaking her head. She hadn’t had much to discuss tonight, save for the ring. The ring that wasn’t to her taste.

“In the future, I’d appreciate more notice,” Nobara says honestly. “I feel quite silly showing up empty-handed–”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Hiromi laughs with a wave of her hand. 

She looks at Nobara’s hand. 

“Where’s the ring?” Hiromi asks, brow cocked. 

Nobara pales. The answer to that is that it’s sitting on her makeup vanity at home. She hasn’t worn it once since the engagement, and she was hoping to act on Megumi’s advice tonight. If someone like Megumi, who mainly wore sweatpants and chose his clothing based on comfort, could tell that the ring was gaudy, it meant that it was worth replacing. 

“I…” Nobara starts. “I didn’t want to lose it–”

“Mum helped pick it out,” Noritoshi says. 

Nobara eyes the beetle brooch. It’s certainly a statement piece. Something she wouldn’t choose, but oddly, it suits Hiromi. She wonders whether the ring would look good on Hiromi’s slender, uncalloused fingers, which look as though they’ve never experienced a hard day’s work. 

“Oh,” Nobara says. Her throat feels dry. 

Something is bothering her, though she can’t quite put her finger on it. She’d spent the past week agonising over the ring. Feeling guilty over disliking it. In her mind, she’d envisioned Noritoshi going from store to store, by himself, helplessly asking the shopkeeper for advice. Or doing copious amounts of research. She could cope with the choice if it were his choice. 

“It would be better if you wore it from now on,” Hiromi says, giving Nobara a smile. “Out of respect for Noritoshi–”

Respect? Nobara thinks. Alarm bells ring in her head. Even though Hiromi is her elder, surely someone who crashes someone else’s dinner plans unannounced can’t seriously comment on respect. 

“Mother– Nobara teaches a lot,” Noritoshi says. “I’m sure she just wants to keep it safe–”

Nobara swallows. She feels anger bubble in her stomach. She gives Noritoshi an appreciative smile. He turns back to his mother. 

“Of course,” Hiromi says. “I just worry about such a pretty girl running around Tokyo by herself without a ring on,”

Nobara’s ears burn. What is she implying? 

“Mother–”

“What?” Hiromi shrugs, she gives a light laugh, “You’d be surprised how many men come out of the woodwork once a woman announces her engagement–”

“Mother,” Noritoshi chastises. 

A waitress comes over, handing them menus. An awkward silence settles. Nobara stares down at the menu. 

Her old, immature teenage self would have said something. Caused a scene. The waitress comes over and takes her order. Nobara orders anything, too busy trying to find some footing. To find a way to make sense of this strange conversation, which she’s been made party to. The waitress takes their menus, flashing her a smile. 

Noritoshi eyes her hand but does not take it. He clears his throat. 

“Nobara–” He starts. Nobara notes the caution in his tone. 

Noritoshi is a direct person. He doesn’t overcommit to things. He’s careful with the work he takes on, and careful with the relationships he makes. He never asks much of her, only for her to be there when he needs. 

“I’m going to be in and out of the country a lot over the next six months–”

“I know,” Nobara interrupts. “That’s fine. Work comes first,”

This was always what she told herself. Work came first. It was important that work came first for both of them. Their relationship was one between two equally professionally minded people. It was one of the things she appreciated about Noritoshi. 

“I don’t know how much I can help with the wedding planning,” Noritoshi sighs. He turns to Hiromi and smiles at her. “Luckily, mother has graciously offered to help with the preparations.”

Nobara stiffens. From the ring to the brooch, she can tell that Hiromi and she have completely different tastes. 

Nobara raises a hand, pushing her hair behind her ear. Hiromi will be her mother-in-law, and making a good impression isn’t a terrible idea. The idea of having input from someone else puts her off. Especially from someone from a different generation. 

She purses her lips, thinking of a way to reject the offer and remain polite. Nortioshi has always spoken highly of his mother, even before Nobara had met her, and she knew, though it hadn’t been implicitly stated, that disappointing Hiromi would mean disappointing Noritoshi. 

“While I appreciate it, I’m perfectly capable of managing the preparations myself–”

“Don’t be so modest,” Hiromi says, smiling. She reaches across the table deftly, giving Nobara’s shoulder a pat. “There’s much more to manage than you’d expect. I’m a housewife, so I have a lot of spare time. Plus, it would be a wonderful opportunity for us to get to know each other a bit more– you’re my future daughter-in-law after all–”

Nobara smiles through gritted teeth. All of this family stuff is making her feel especially flighty– not that there’s anywhere to go. 

“Please, Nobara,” Noritoshi says. “Please accept mother’s help– I’d like the two of you to get along with each other– we all have the same interests here. We all want the wedding to run smoothly.”

“Okay,” Nobara says. She swallows. “Fine,”

She’s quiet for the rest of the evening, silently observing as mother and son chatter on. She's completely unable to get a word in edgewise. 

“Kugisaki!” Megumi says, stepping in between Nobara and Kirino, who cowers behind him. 

She’s once again zoned out in the middle of class. It’s a habit. A new one that he isn’t fond of. He reaches out, gripping her wrist roughly. She blinks her eye, and her hammer drops to the ground. 

He holds her wrist tightly. Kirino stumbles backwards. He doesn’t think that Kirino’s parents, nor Shoko, would like to know that Kirino had been injured by one of her teachers, one of the very people entrusted with her care. He stares down at Nobara angrily, irritated by her lack of care. Normally, she switches out hammers before dealing a blow like that on a student, but she’s being careless. 

Her eye is wide with horror. She’s wearing a dark red eyepatch today, one that matches her tracksuit bottoms. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail, but several loose strands have come loose, making her look like a madwoman. She uses her left hand to brush back the stray strands– this is when he notices it—that egregious ring– sparkling in the afternoon sun. 

The sight of it makes him feel strangely nauseous. It seems out of place, like accidentally seeing a cameraman in the final edit of a film. He tightens his grip, pulling her away from their students. 

He leads her behind the bleachers, dropping her hand. If there is one established rule that both of them respect as teachers, it is not to chew each other out in front of the students. 

“Take the rest of the day off,” Megumi says firmly. 

Nobara shakes her head. 

“Look, it was a mistake– I’m fine, I’ll talk to Kirino and apologise,”

“No– Go home,” Megumi says. “You’ve been completely off your game for the past couple of weeks.”

“I’m completely fine,” She says. 

He sneaks another glance at the ring. Didn’t she say she was going to replace it? Why is that horrible ring still here– why does he care? Why hasn’t she ripped Kamo a new asshole for choosing something so terrible– so obviously not her. 

If it were he or Itadori who had shown such a blatant disregard for her preferences, she would have made her opinion known. What was so special about Noritoshi Kamo? 

“Look,” Megumi sighs. “Whatever is going on with you–”

“Nothing is going on with me,” Nobara snaps. 

He recoils. Shaken by her sudden harshness. Oddly, this is the most normal she’s seemed in a long time. 

Before he can say anything else. She pushes past him. He watches as her hips swing, as she bows to apologise to Kirino before ruffling her hair. He watches as the students listen to her, taking in her every word, the interruption seemingly regrounding her. He watches as she squares her shoulders, taking on a fighting posture. The slight smile, that sharp yet sweet laugh of hers and the attentive ears of her students, which were perked up, their eyes that were wide with admiration. She was so lively, so vibrant– teaching was something that she was truly passionate about– and it showed. He felt his shoulders relax– perhaps he was making a swift judgment. Perhaps she was okay. It wasn’t any of his business. 

Still, he could not expunge the thought from his mind. As he rejoined the group, he found himself stealing the occasional glance over at her. Trying to piece together a mental puzzle. He still couldn’t for the life of him understand what someone so lively and vibrant as she could see in Noritoshi Kamo?