Chapter Text
The night sky looms over the spirited, fervent streets of Tokyo city.
Daring to submerge its citizens in complete darkness, it is no match against the flashy, neon lights flooding every corner. The never ending siege of laughter and senseless conversations that keep its air buzzing. The smell of steamy broths and fresh cuisine that entice the average passerby’s appetite.
Even at the peak of night, the city bursts with energy more than ever.
Sleep is a concern to no one here, but deep in the outskirts of Tokyo, through secluded forests and bustling greenery, Utahime would argue otherwise.
Miserably rolled up into a ball on her bed, with her arms wrapped around her lower abdomen, she cusses out every word in the book to herself.
Quietly, of course.
She sighs bitterly in the dark, glancing up to the light emanating from her alarm clock once more.
2:04AM.
She doesn’t know what to do anymore.
She had already tried everything; her heating pad, taking a warm bath, drinking herbal teas, and taking pain medication. While it did help subdue the pain a bit, it still wasn’t enough.
If she knew sooner, she would have called Shoko over for help.
But she couldn’t wake her friend up now, not at such a late hour. Not when she knew how overworked she was.
Shoko would never say it out loud, but the dark circles under her eyes and the somber expression on her face told Utahime everything she needed to know.
So she ultimately decided to just wait it out until the pain goes away.
She slowly flipped the other way, the thin sheets shifting beneath her weight as the bed springs groaned within the mattress.
Her weary eyes landed on the heating pad from earlier, and without another thought, kicked it off the bed entirely.
It landed with a light thud on the floor.
Staring off into the wall, she let out a defeated sigh.
She accepted a long time ago the truth of her condition, and that it was incurable. If this was something she would have to deal with for the rest of her life, then she might as well get used to it.
Utahime distinctly remembers her gynecologist trying to lighten the mood after breaking the news, explaining that its effects could lessen overtime with menopause and pregnancy.
But she didn’t give it much hope.
It seems fate never bids her well in any aspect of life.
Her fingers lightly graze the scar on her face.
She never really thought about whether or not she wanted kids before. But now, it was out of the question because it wasn’t possible for her to conceive.
And if she ever did find the right partner, would they care that she no longer could?
A low rumble sounded from her stomach, pulling Utahime out of whatever spiral she was falling into.
After staying up for so long, her body began begging for food.
She eventually sat up, feeling relieved that her cramps have mostly subsided by now.
Checking the clock, it read:
3:15AM
She pulled her legs over the side of the bed and quietly stood up.
It’s been awhile since she visited the teacher’s lounge at Tokyo High’s campus, but she faintly recalls the cabinets being stocked with instant ramen.
She hardly ever visits the school now, but when she does, it is usually related to school events and faculty meetings.
And with the upcoming Goodwill Event happening soon, she needed to come to Tokyo to help with the arrangements.
Thus, what yesterday’s meeting was for.
To her luck, he wasn't at the conference. Ijichi said something about him being on a last minute mission to Africa.
She flipped the kitchen’s switch on, squinting from the sudden brightness hitting her eyes.
Perhaps he’s taking his sweet time over there.
She mulled.
Her finger flicked the switch off again, deciding it was too much for her sensitive eyes to bear.
Instead, she would allow the dim light spilling through the kitchen’s blinds to guide her.
She walked towards the overhead cabinet and looked inside for anything to eat.
However, she was only met with the sight of numerous cups and plates neatly stacked.
Her lips fell into a slight frown and so she resignedly closed its doors shut again.
Utahime continued scavenging around the kitchen space quietly in the dark, feeling like a measly mouse looking for even the smallest crumb to nibble on.
It seems like no one has remembered to restock the cabinets.
She huffed.
Utahime decided to just go back to her room, mentally taking note to let the school’s staff know about this in the morning.
Turning to leave, she paused halfway through her steps at the sight before her:
A tall figure standing eerily still in the dark doorway.
Immediately, her breath stilled and she backed away on instinct without thinking.
But then a quiet, airy laugh cut through the thick silence weighing between them in that moment, and the mysterious figure stepped forward.
“Don’t tell me you’re actually scared, Utahime?” He amusingly joked.
In the dim moon’s light, she could make out the familiar outline of his face, the sharp contrast of his black blindfold against his silver, white locks;
The shine of his perfect supple lips framed into his signature smile,
Utahime stopped herself on that thought.
“You’re one to talk creep, who just stands there in the dark watching people?” She placed her hands on her hips.
Satoru remained unphased and simply shrugged,
“Hm. As if rummaging around in the middle of the night while muttering to yourself isn’t any weirder. For a second there, I almost mistook you for an intruder.”
“As did I for you,” she retorted.
Then the smell of something warm and savory in the air caught her off guard, and she looked down to notice the two plastic bags in his grasp.
Her stomach made a low rumble sound that colored her face with embarrassment.
“I’m..going to bed then.”
“Huh? You don’t want any?”
Utahime raised a curious brow,
“What?“
Satoru let out a gentle sigh and placed the bags on the table.
“You don’t want something to eat? I always buy double so there should be enough for us to share.”
He placed in front of her a couple of containers, napkins, and a packaged pair of chopsticks.
“Gojo, you don’t have to-“
“There’s udon noodles, dumplings, and yakitori…I think I also bought tempura.” He interrupted.
At that mention, she finally caved into her hunger and took a seat across from him at the table.
The ghost of a smile played along Satoru’s lips.
Utahime knew better to leave and return to her room, but somehow she felt at ease being here with him.
Besides, she was still hungry.
So she joined him at the table, eyeing warily any weird movements from him. But Satoru was too focused on some rice cakes to notice her curious gaze, grabbing one excitedly from a box and popping it into his mouth.
“I got these from a trendy place that just opened.”
Utahime merely pulled back the plastic lid off her noodles and hummed in acknowledgement.
Satoru turned to her with his mouth full of mochi, gesturing a plump cake in his hand to her.
“Hmph, want some?”
Blowing the heat off her noodles, she groaned internally at his table manners. She wonders if he does this with every person he eats with.
Instead of berating him for it, she only shook her head to decline.
“I’m not really into sweets.”
Satoru huffed. “Eh come on, they're really good!”
Too tired to argue, she simply relented and accepted the sweet treat.
Her fingers flinched upon contact with his, feeling the warmth of his skin graze hers for a second almost too long.
It felt strange, she noted. Being suddenly so close to someone who was always out of reach in her life.
And yet here they were, sharing a warm meal together at three in the morning.
Utahime simply kept her gaze focused on the small cake between her fingers, admiring its smooth surface.
The flour coating its dough spread aimlessly like snow on her hands.
“It’s supposed to be lemon flavored.”
A small smile danced along her lips and she looked up, “really? Lemon is my favorite.”
Satoru simply grinned and reached over for one of the dumplings.
“I prefer the strawberry more, so you can have the rest of the lemon flavored if you want.”
A familiar warmth tugged at the strings of her heart inside, setting off a buzz of vibrations throughout her body.
She tried to ignore it.
It was a feeling that was always kept dimmed by their usual arguing and bickering, something she had trained herself to push down.
But in these small intimate moments, where it was just the two of them existing in the company of each other, reminiscing in the silence of the other, those feelings always found a way back to the surface.
Laid bare in front of her. Almost taunting.
It truly did scare her, because no matter how hard she tried, no matter how far she tried to keep things cool and distant between them, her heart still fluttered at the mere mention of his name.
Sometimes she felt like the real idiot here.
The sensation of something tangy and citrusy bloomed in her mouth, and she noticed the small strawberry slice in the center of her mochi.
“These are pretty good,” she noted.
“What I tell you? I just have great taste.”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help herself from smiling at his remark,
“This one has a strawberry inside, it goes well with the lemon. Here, try it.”
She carefully pulled her cake apart into two, gesturing one piece to Satoru.
He seemed almost hesitant at first but reached out anyways, the rough calluses of his fingers brushing against hers for another moment.
She felt the previous buzz in her body surge with intensity again.
Utahime wondered if he felt anything too.
He eventually hummed in approval, “you know what? I think I might have to reconsider giving you all the lemon mochi.”
Utahime raised her brow at him, “nope! Too late to take back your word for it.”
She pulled the box away from the table and hid it beneath her, feeling a sense of triumph from the gasp he let out.
“Oi! You don’t even like sweets!”
She only laughed and waved her chopsticks in his face,
“Nothing I can’t enjoy with some tea though.”
Satoru smirked to himself, and pulled her plate of tempura away,
“Alright, well two can play at that game.”
“Gojo you pig! You already have all this food to yourself!” She huffed.
“Well, I mean half of it is yours so-“
“Don’t act like you weren’t going to eat all of this before!”
He leaned forward and hovered his index finger over her lips teasingly,
“Ah ah, wouldn't want to wake up all the students now would we Utahime-senpai?”
She knew he was only joking, but the gesture alone caught her off guard and she couldn’t help but blush profusely.
Utahime cleared her throat.
“I..wasn’t trying to.”
A small laugh escaped Satoru and he sat back down in his seat with his arms crossed in satisfaction.
“The Goodwill event hasn’t even started and it seems someone has already started their competitive streak.”
Utahime groaned aloud.
“Gojo, you have been messaging me a whole month before bragging about how your ‘prodigy’ students were gonna beat mine.”
Satoru clipped his tongue in disbelief, “I don’t recall.”
Pulling up her phone, she scrolled through all their chats and showed him the laughing cat gifs he’s spammed her last week.
“Must’ve been Ijichi. I let him borrow my phone a lot.” He grinned.
Utahime just sighed in defeat and resumed her stabbing at her noodles, imagining somewhere in the distance that it was this idiot instead.
“Hey.”
She paused midway from bringing her cold noodles to her mouth.
“Yeah?”
“I wanna make a bet. If my students win this year’s game, we will go out for dinner. There's this really nice restaurant I ’ve been wanting to visit here in the city.” He mused.
For a moment she felt her heart stop, but not with fear or disgust, but almost in disbelief.
Satoru wanted to take her out for dinner?
The warm buzz inside her began growing faster, and she felt like she was getting tipsy without even having a single drop of alcohol in her system.
Stop it, she scolded herself.
He doesn’t mean it like that.
“Don’t worry about paying for anything, I’ll cover the whole thing,” he added.
Utahime gazed back down to her plate, but she just said nothing as her mind continued to race.
She was too distracted by the sudden immense pain blooming in her lower abdomen.
Not now, dammit.
Her fingers clenched the wooden chopsticks in her hand and they began to shake with discomfort, something Satoru caught on quickly.
He sat up a bit straighter and tilted his head in concern,
“Hey, you ok?”
But his words didn’t reach her as Utahime silently cursed to herself. She could feel it pass through her pajama pants, leaving a mark she was too ashamed to reveal if she stood up.
She wanted to cry.
Not just from the pain, but from the huge embarrassment she felt right now. She hated that this was her life now, she hated that she was stuck with this condition forever, she hated how much of her body felt like a nuisance to her.
A light clatter hit the floor as her chopsticks fell from her trembling grasp.
“Utahime.”
A sudden warmth enveloped its way around her closed fist, grounding her for just a moment longer.
She looked up to find Satoru’s hand firmly placed over hers and her heart stuttered. Yet, just as quickly as it did she pushed it back down.
Stop it.
She pulled her hand away from his touch and stood abruptly from her spot, her chair screeching against the cool tile floor.
“I-I need to go.”
Her flushed face avoided his gaze as she nervously scrambled for a couple napkins on the table, using them to hide the stain behind her.
Satoru frowned and stood up as well, beginning to piece the situation in front of him.
“Do you want me-?”
“No! Just sit down and don’t look, please.”
Tears burned at the edges of her fearful eyes.
Satoru’s chest tightened at the sight of her desperation. He reluctantly complied with her request but hated how useless he felt in this position.
Then without another word, she fled from the kitchen space, leaving him behind at the table.
He let out a low, slow sigh through his nose.
His gaze drifted blankly to the food in front of him that has now gone cold, suddenly no longer appealing to him anymore.
Then, he looked up at the empty seat across from him, where just moments ago Utahime sat in.
Her warm brown eyes gazing back at him softly.
A deafening silence fell over him like a familiar embrace, whispering promises of solitude sliding back into place.