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Sweat glistens on the servants' skin despite the cool, morning air. They're working tirelessly to pull out every last root of the weeds growing in the estate's garden. The past few weeks have been so dark and gloomy, no sign of sunlight inside those wooden rooms or even in the outdoor area of the property. Yuji misses the sun greatly.
One of the men currently kneeling on the soil brings his forearm to his face and uses it to wipe the moist skin. This part of his body is less dirty than his hands, but it still leaves a dark smear that becomes visible to Yuji when the servant goes back to work. The rainy season had left the ground dark and soft, like coffee grounds. Yuji watches from the window because that's all that he's allowed to do -rest his chin against his palm and observe idly while that staff makes themselves useful to the Gojo clan.
He's strong and it is not a humble, but true statement. He knows how the differences between orobanche and the other roots too, which is important so as not to damage the expensive plants growing in the luscious garden. Nanamin doesn't let him do anything but prepare his own meals, and that's only because it lessens the risk of poisoning. The young master gave him straightforward orders that involved absolutely nothing enjoyable for Yuji.
His days at the estate are so terribly dull. At times so much so that he feels like crying.
The maids had praised solitude as a bond-strengthening method -a healthy amount of longing before the wedding ceremony that is going to make their first night together a truly enchanting experience. Yuji can't seem to notice the bright side of his isolation. He listens, nods and obeys, yet can't shake the feeling that he did wrong when accepting the marriage proposal. His betrothed's morbid anxiety was what led to these lonely weeks.
Everything that arrives through those gates gets immediately tested for poison. It's a common and required practice, considering the rise of new deadly plants that can be harvested in places like forests and fields. Anyone can become a murderer, yet Yuji hears mostly about folks who have used said plants in their own dishes. One, unfortunate mistake can kill a whole family. People try their best anyway, picking unnamed mushrooms, herbs and flowers for their stews -just about anything to fill the pot.
Satoru-san is kind and caring, however, he also believes that the second he lets his eyes off Yuji, he's going to fall into another man's embrace. He's convinced that his cute bride is bound to get ensnared by a treacherous bastard during his absence. No use in Yuji saying that he can take care of himself. The male staff got the order to stay away from him; everyone except Nanamin and Yuta. One of them is the most cold, quiet person Yuji knows.
He can't describe how much he misses his family and the carefree days of childhood. He's still just fourteen. Satoru-san promised to wait for him if he wasn't ready yet, but Kaori and Jin gave him their blessing. They visit sometimes, but their clan's estate is so far away and the preparations for the wedding swallow the majority of their time. Kaori must've been so afraid of Satoru's change of heart and, as she said, marrying her rowdy child into one of Japan's biggest families is a once-in-a-millennium chance.
He's thinking about Wasuke a lot. Even Sukuna crosses his mind from time to time. His uncle hates the Gojo clan as a whole, but enjoys the idea of connecting two powerful families through marriage. Yuji is just a stumbling block in his life, but their relationship wasn't the worst before he left to live here. He realized that when talking to Yuta, around the time of his arrival at his new home.
Satoru's parents represent the clan when meeting the big fish, and there's no strict rule about his presence during those discussions. It's a recurring subject of disagreement and something that they're very insistent about due to Satoru's position as a heir. Yuta doesn't have that problem. He's one of those invisible members of the Gojo clan, lacking the unmistakable features and close relation to the family.
Satoru and Nanamin are the same age and Yuta is only a year younger than them. Yuji worried if he'd get along with them at all, but a four-year difference was perfect to Kaori. She wouldn't let him marry either a disgusting, old man, nor someone too young, like Fushiguro. She needed someone who'd pamper her only son without taking advantage of his youthful naivety. Satoru doesn't treat him like a brat. He does notice Yuji's natural, childish traits, but responds to them with protectiveness, like an older brother.
Perhaps to Satoru, Yuta is someone like Fushiguro is to Yuji. Trust and understanding are the foundation of their relationship. He still knows so little about his future husband. It's saddening.
Their life as a couple has been put on hold till the wedding ceremony -everything, including meeting each other's friends and spending time together, without a third person in the room. Apparently, Geto-san is Satoru's closest friend. He was meant to take Yuta's place, if Satoru hadn't changed his mind last minute. Yuji knows scraps of information and no one wants to tell him anything outright. He'd heard about a fight that broke out between those two, specifically because of the role assignment and alleged lack of faith.
Well, doesn't Satoru's decision equal calling Geto-san unloyal or even perfidious? A lot is going on behind closed doors and Yuji remains unsure of what he's allowed to reveal and what is safer to keep quiet about. He enjoys talking to Yuta, about anything, anytime. Their conversation can be as casual and trivial as it gets, while the same can't be said about his exchanges with Satoru. Itadori feels this lingering pressure to come off as mature and well-educated in front of his to-be spouse.
Nanamin fulfills the role of a guard, while Yuta is there for enrichment and company, other than keeping the other men away. Yuji should know better than to confide in someone working for Satoru's family, no matter how friendly and soft-spoken that person is. It's only natural that every word coming out of his mouth is praise towards the Gojo clan. He shall speak about his happiness and gratitude, rave about how honored he is and such. He can count on his words being repeated to the head of the clan.
But Yuta hears his sniffling and hiccups late at night and notices the wet stripes left on his face by streams of salty tears. Sobbing can be overlooked, but not a heart melting into a puddle out of sorrow. Itadori turns his pillow on the other side and hides his face from Yuta, whom he presumed to be asleep.
"Are you homesick, Yuji-kun?"
He's tempted not to respond. Yuta wouldn't force him to talk. Yes, he'd surely play along and do him the favor of not questioning whether he's awake or not.
Itadori swallows hard and exhales with relief at the fact that he doesn't have to cry quietly anymore. "Yes."
"Gojo-san is going to return in the blink of an eye. Then, the wedding.." Okkotsu whispers. "Everything will be back to normal before you notice."
"And if I don't want this?"
Yuta is silent and Yuji knows exactly why. No one has the right to tie him up and force him into marriage, but once he agrees to the conditions, he is morally obligated to stick to them. What would the other clans think if he abandoned the groom and ruined the negotiations?
"You don't want loneliness, but it'll pass. Young master won't keep you locked away forever."
He doesn't understand. Yuji does his best not to sound whiny. "I'm not what he wants either. Didn't Satoru-san arrange the marriage due to an altruistic sentiment?" He turns his head to Yuta. "He was afraid of the Zenins treating me poorly. I don't need his protection."
"There is more to it."
"I don't see it."
Yuta shoots him a look of uncertainty. "How shall I put it? Gojo-san has a good heart, but he does not show it to just anyone he crosses paths with. I was surprised by the wedding. He swore to never get married."
"I must've looked quite pathetic." Yuji raises his eyes to the ceiling. The tatami mat feels cool under his fingertips and the crack between the two sliding doors allows the sweet, flowery scent of the garden to hang in the air.
They had been attending countless meetings with the other clans before the final decision. Those were specifically social gatherings for the purpose of the families staying on good terms. The past incidents have shown that nothing good comes out of scheming against each other.
He was getting so fed up with Kaori's complaints and insults. She hated that he kept running around and playing a fool with those good-for-nothing kids. She called Kugisaki a bad influence and spoke about Fushiguro far more lowly. According to her, Toji made a mistake by leaving the Zenin clan. Their family is a bunch of 'nobodies' now.
"Maybe it it better that it's over now," Itadori says, though Yuta doesn't know the whole context. He doesn't have to. Yuji feels like thinking out loud and it doesn't matter if Yuta gives him any useful advice. "I won't have to hear that I'm wasting time and giving myself ugly scars."
"You mean the one under your eye?"
Yuji confirms. "Mom had to stitch it up. It was bleeding really badly."
"It's not a waste of time if you have good memories."
"She wouldn't agree." Itadori turns so that they're lying face-to-face. "She was so happy to hear Satoru-san's proposal. Someone responsible like him would've completed me and my flaws. I'm not beautiful, but he doesn't mind my looks."
A playful smile forms on Yuta's face. He looks like he knows more than he should. "Only 'doesn't mind'? Oh, I doubt. Anyhow, I like your scar. It's reminiscent of a crescent moon."
"A moon.." Yuji repeats absent-mindedly. He's flattered that a part of him reminds Yuta of something this mesmerizing. Okkotsu himself looks like an ethereal night creature with his muted palette. His black hair reflects light like water in a pond, his eyes are as dark and blue as the night sky and his skin could be made of delicate parchment paper with how eerily fair he is.
Yuji knows very well that he should view everyone but his future husband as genderless. He should be immune to the physical attraction. Yuta is Satoru's replacement for the time being, not the person Yuji was promised to.
"You're similar in some ways. You and Satoru-san."
Yuta's brow curves for a second before his features fall back into peaceful impartiality. "His parents would've gone pale if they heard you. It's a great insult to him, you know that?"
"I wish I could stay with you and never have to marry."
Okkotsu's gaze turns reproachful. "Don't say such things out loud. Better yet, don't indulge in those thoughts at all."
"I'm fond of young master, but I am not made to be a bride. You know, I was worried he could see that and it made me feel so unreasonably shy in our first encounter. But he was patient. Like you."
Etiquette was a big part of his life since early childhood, yet he had trouble memorizing the rules and applying them in daily life. He couldn't help his instinctive reactions or remember to control his expression at all times. One thing that would always get on Kaori's nerves was how he'd subconsciously drop a corner of his mouth and create this look of dissatisfaction at important moments. She has to remind him over and over: 'Fix your face.'
That's also what she told him before he went to greet the heir of the Gojo clan. Her hand had carded through his pink hair methodically and pushed it back onto his forehead. Yuji likes to brush it away from his skin and she renders his effort useless by flattening it into its natural state. It's a constant battle.
Yuji hesitated, seeing the large teen. It earned him a light push on the back, along with a rushed 'Go on' whispered into his ear. Satoru wasn't like they described him. He looked like winter personified, yes, but not a stormy or unforgiving winter. The blue eyes looking down at Yuji in amusement were bright and full of teenage spark. His white hair reminded Itadori of the dandelions growing on his favorite field in early spring. It was cute and soft. Satoru was kind enough to bend down and let him touch it.
Strange warmth crawls up Yuji's body, beginning in his core, blooming in his whole torso and curling around his ears. If he were to name the reason, it would've probably been anticipation and fear. He experiences the same emotions that he felt when Satoru smiled at him at that time. They were at eye-level and Yuji's heart fluttered the way it never did before.
Maybe it was the moment when he realized that he'd prefer not to feel anything towards his to-be-husband. The anticipation helped him figure out the pull that he felt towards Satoru. He wouldn't feel this excitement if he were indifferent to Satoru as a man and viewed the tradition of sharing a bed only as a marital obligation. With care comes concern and self-doubt. What keeps Yuji awake at night is the question of whether or not he would be enough for someone like Satoru-san.
What if the wedding night comes and the claws of fear turn him into a wide-eyed rabbit frozen in a stiff position under his husband's touch? What if his heart starts beating as hard as if it were to jump out of his chest and he won't be able to stop the spiral of excessive doubt pouring out of every pore of his body? Satoru will inevitably notice and find it off-putting. His arousal would fade at the speed of light if Yuji's thighs began to tremble upon opening.
The intense attraction works on Yuji in all the wrong ways. It makes no sense from nature's point of view; instead of his body being naturally programmed for confidence and allure in the face of arousal, said arousal makes him clam up. He needs practice, like an actor before a big performance.
Because that's what the wedding night really is. Their first time holds such weight and importance to their future life as a couple. He can't do anything that would leave a bad taste in Satoru's mouth and make him reluctant to touch him again. Itadori has no clue what to expect, if to brace for pain or not, and if so, how long till it gives way to pleasure? Will it at all?
"Can I tell you something?"
Yuta is all ears. "Anything."
Blood rushes to Yuji's face. He has to describe it with the simplest words -this indecent act between him and Satoru- and he encourages himself internally, while Yuta stares. He's propped up on his elbow and the wide sleeve of his kimono has sunk down, revealing some naked skin. Yuji looks away, his gaze falling onto Okkotsu's collarbones and the V-line of his loosely tied kimono. He clears his throat.
"No rush," Yuta says. "You don't have to say anything if you changed your mind."
He feels weirdly childlike and vulnerable while lying on his side, his hand between the pillow and his cheek, duvet pulled all the way to his neck. He looks at Yuta's lips and finds the shape similar to Satoru's. Heat fills his body unexpectedly and turns his brain into a goo. "It's just that.." he starts in a casual, conversational tone, as if steam isn't currently gushing out of his ears at the mere memory he's about to share. "I had my first kiss."
Yuta is clearly consciously controlling his expression. Yuta is unable to read anything from it.
"Who was the lucky person?"
"You know who."
Yuta's brow moves an inch in an indication of something negative brewing inside him. "Gojo-san?"
Yuji's smile says it all. It calms Yuta, but his peace gets disturbed once again, with an unforeseen physical contact. One that is reserved for married couples.
"Yuji.." Okkotsu whispers in disbelief.
"This is how he kissed me. Only more fervently."
It's an undeserved pride, but he's happy with himself for doing something this brave. To Yuta, it might look more like a toddler running up to him to kiss him on the cheek and run away with a giddy laugh. Yuji is fine with that.
"Why did you do this? You know better than anyone..-"
"Will you tell on me? Nanamin would be happy to have one problem less."
Yuta runs his hand across his face, stress stark in his features. "..No. It is no excuse, but you have to know that Gojo-san went against the rules too by doing this to you before the wedding."
"Do you think it felt good to him?"
Okkotsu is baffled by the question. "I.."
"I need to know."
"You will find out from Gojo-san himself. It's a matter of a simple question."
Itadori makes a disconsolate face and hides it against the pillow. He stays like this until it gets hard to breathe. When he looks at Yuta again, the teen is still observing him. He didn't turn around and put on his best act of deep slumber.
"Are you really not going to help me?"
"Help with what?"
A sign of frustration appears in Yuji's body language. He fidgets under the covers, waiting for Yuta to say yes or no finally. Yuji finds a roundabout way of explanation.
"I need an ally. Can I count on you, senpai? I have no one in this place and my thoughts are eating me alive."
"I don't know if that's the right thing."
"I'm aware of your loyalty. The clan values you for it. Would it be too much of me to ask you for a night of practice to train the young master's bride?"
Yuta hesitstes. "With words, I hope? I might feel inclined to share my knowledge."
"I don't know how to kiss," Yuji confesses with sadness. "I need to learn this and all the other things. Wasn't it your duty towards the clan to be of aid? How do I entice the young manster and I have no effect on anyone else? Your complexion didn't get any warmer when I lay my lips upon yours."
"Well, it is quite impossible to think about anything but my beheading."
Yuta certainly has more to lose. Yuji notices the selfishness of his request and ponders his own morality in shameful silence. Yuta's hand brushes against his in the empty space between their mats. The touch is an unsatisfying solace.
Itadori keeps his voice so low that only Yuta can hear him. "In another world, it could've been you. You would've been the young master who'd take my hand in marriage."
They were born into their status and position. Can either of them be blamed for craving the forbidden fruit?
"If the stars had aligned another way," Yuta agrees.
"The stars are not always righteous or wise."
"They might be next time, in another life."
What would it be like to have Yuta as a husband? Itadori cannot claim to favor either of them, but he surely knows Yuta better than Satoru. The time they spent together was meant for a couple, weeks that were supposed to bring him and Satoru together were taken by Yuta. How should Yuji feel when those intimate moments remind him of the wrong person? It was Yuta who'd help him dress up in the morning, join him for meal preparations, engage in discussions and ease his stress.
Fate is a funny thing.
"I'd like to hear about that life. Show me a glimpse," Yuji says and seeing Yuta's unwillingness, he adds: "Thinking or saying something without going through with it is not a crime."
Yuta doesn't withdraw his hand. His thumb rubs against the boy's palm, more specifically the sensitive creases. Life line, heart line, head line. He traces them unhurriedly.
A pile of ghostly flowers awaits its final destiny by the estate's tall gate. If those flowers had eyes, they would've been piercing Yuji with a resentful gaze.
Satoru despises those flowers for their deceitful nature. Orobanche is like a Hiacynth's parasitic cousin, visually similar, yet destructive. At first glance, those little pests might look like withered Hiacynths with their shape and unattractive colors. If to look closely, however, one would notice the scales and absence of leaves. Somewhere under the surface of the soil, this harmless-looking, pathetic weed's roots outstrech to steal the other plants' nutrients.
This parasite pretends to be something it's not. It's a hidden enemy. A bad omen.
The grass is full of patches that will need to be fixed by the servants once they finish burning what they've plugged out. It was a busy night for him and Yuta. It'd left them happy and content.
Yuji feels a light kiss against the bare skin of his nape and smiles without turning around. His kimono is hanging carelessly on his shoulders, making it easy for Yuta's hand to sneak under the material and caress the soft flesh. He bends down to place another loving kiss on Yuji's neck, followed by a peck on his jaw. His hair tickles Itadori and gets him to laugh for the first time since he arrived. His arms encircle around Yuta and pull him in for a kiss far less pure and noncommital.
His inner thighs are still slick, entrance tender and ready. They'd finished early in the morning, before the sun had risen.
"How's your body?"
Yuji smiles shyly. "If I told you that it hurt, would you help me wash up?"
"I'll do it regardless. Satoru-san ordered me to be at your back and call."
"I hope you and I were quiet enough," Itadori says, with a lot more seriousness now.
"Do you have any regrets?"
What happened between them can't be undone. He's glad to know more about sex, but he can't deny the guilt tugging at his heart. The blame is his to bear because he knew that teasing Yuta endlessly would've led words to morph into actions. His heart aches with every portion of blood it pumps out. He hates lying.
"No."
The sun pays them a few visits in the last, few days of Satoru's absence. It casts a weak light onto the trees and bushes growing around the property, paints the outer walls of the building into lighter colors and gazes at its own reflection in the moss-green water.
Yuji spends hours sitting on the corridor floor separating his room from the greenery. He turns his face to the sun, closes his eyes and revels in the natural warmth.
He revels in Yuta's love too. Their affair is coming to an end before it truly started. Call it fate, call it karma, they weren't granted enough time for it to bloom into something more. Satoru hasn't officially announced his early return, but the maids are talking about preparations regarding it. He's the only one coming back.
Nanamin is following Yuji like a shadow and Yuta's watchful eyes search for any inappropriate intentions in the servants' eyes. Itadori finds himself in a melancholic mood. He savors Yuta's kisses and reaches for his hand whenever possible, but this inexplicable sense of dread growing within him with each day warns him about something he can't decipher.
Yuta has long, slim fingers, fitting for a gakunin. They would be hypnotizing while tugging on the delicate cords of an instrument, but they're used for something else. His katana fits neatly into his large palms; the obsidian hilt wrapped tightly in silk and the long, lightly curved blade creates a masterful object. Yuta let him hold it once, as if introducing him to a favorite pet. Their distorted reflections smiled back at them from the polished weapon.
The same hands that wield this katana cup Yuji's cheek with the gentleness of a saint. Were their affair purely physical, there would be hope for secretiveness. The servants notice the way they look at each other, the shifts of tone and private whispers. Nanamin is turning a blind eye to it as well. They can't do anything without concrete evidence, but the thing about bad liars is that it's not hard to expose them. They tell on themselves.
The hallway is empty when they're back from the evening stroll. Yuji inches towards Yuta and hooks their little fingers together. The sliding door belonging to his room is made of sheer material that lets them see the light coming from the overhead lamp. The unexpected guest rings alarms in Yuji's head. He pulls away like a scalded cat.
A steaming cup of loose-leaf sencha catches Yuji's eye first. Then, the hand holding it, the blue kimono, uncharacteristically plain for the owner. Itadori recognizes it.
Satoru's face reveals nothing. He looks lost in his own little world, calm and unbothered. The grasshoppers' crackling chirps can be heard from the outside and though Satoru hasn't looked their way since they appeared in the doorway, they have no choice. They can't retreat and act like they've entered the wrong room. The light atmosphere is gone, replaced by respect under the threat of an ambiguous punishment.
Yuji spots Nanami in the corner of his eye and feels an immediate nausea rolling in his stomach. He and Yuta ignore their self-preservation instinct and drag their feet towards Gojo, stopping just a few steps into the room.
Satoru rises gracefully. Yuji lowers his gaze, his breath turning shallow and eyes shutting when the white-haired pauses in front of them. The last thing Yuji sees is Satoru's arm shooting towards him and Yuta.
A pathetic whimper escapes Yuji, but it's not him that Satoru's hand had reached. The short, wooden table breaks under Yuta's weight. Yuji jumps at the sound of porcelain burning Okkotsu and hitting the floor in tiny pieces. His eyes take in every little detail like the blood and shards stuck in Yuta's skin, while his mind panics and slows down his reaction. He hears the shocked scream coming out of his mouth, feels his heart hammering against his ribcage and the blood draining from his face.
Someone grabs him from behind when his limbs unfreeze and allow him to rush towards Yuta. He detects Nanami's scent.
"I will order to cut your fingers off, sew your mouth shut and turn you into the eunuch you were meant to be. How does that sound?" Satoru asks sweetly. Okkotsu attempts to sit up with a groan. Something is stuck in his back, judging by the dark, red stain. Satoru steps on him, as if he's worse than a dog. "You won't be tempted to touch what's not yours, use your mouth unaccordingly or stick this into another man or woman ever again."
"Satoru-san...!-" Yuji diverts Gojo's attention from Yuta. His voice is full of horror and anger. He knew it'd end this way. He knew it, but didn't listen to his logic and has no right to demand anything anymore.
The teen spares him a look of hollow apathy before turning back to Yuta and landing a punch that snaps Okkotsu's head back and crushes his nose with a disgusting sound. Yuta raises his hand to his face, all wobbly, no attempt at physical self-defense. Adrenaline courses through Satoru's body as he stands over his traitor, looking for any trace of guilt on his face.
Yuta wipes the blood with the back of his hand. "I wouldn't hurt him," he says. He doesn't even flinch when Satoru's fingers curl around his collar again.
"Are you saying that you haven't done anything wrong?" Gojo responds with a smile of ridicule.
Yuta remains calm, but his voice breaks. "Yes."
What the hell is he doing?
No prize awaits those unnecessarily brave or prideful. Yuta knows Satoru better than anyone, so why isn't he using it to his advantage? He's going to get beaten to death if he doesn't gain some logic soon.
Yuji takes it into his own hands. He elbows Nanami in the stomach as hard as he can to switch his role from a spectator to someone with a tiny bit more control. He has no hope of winning Satoru's forgiveness or escaping revenge. Itadori kneels in front of Gojo, places his palms flat on the floor and presses his forehead against the cold wood.
"Please accept my solemn apology, for I am equally as guilty."
Silence echoes in Yuji's ears. He braces for the pain of his fingers under Satoru's heavy foot or the man's palm against his cheek.
"What shall I do with such a tearful confession? Perhaps throw it away, the way you did with my generosity?"
Yuji grits his teeth. "Please, Satoru-san.."
"Louder from now on. He's going to make a lot of noise while losing his fingers."
Yuji changes position to see what's happening. His honesty only angered Satoru further, and, as proof of Yuji's unwise decision, he directs his steps to the Katana leaning against the wall. There is no room for underestimation or assumptions. Nanami doesn't stop him anymore when he protects Yuta with his own body. If Satoru really is capable of this kind of violence, he should be fine with slashing his flesh as well.
"What are you doing? Yuji-"
Satoru closes in on them, ignoring the urgency in Yuta's voice. His gaze is fixated on his bride clinging to another man. "Let go at once."
"Not while it's still in your hands."
Yuta's precious katana lands on the floor like something worse than a piece of trash. Yuji winces at the speed and noise at which it happens.
"Don't make me repeat myself."
He pulls away from Okkotsu the same as he did upon noticing the light in his room. As though every millisecond matters.
"A little birdie had told me about a snake in our love nest," Satoru continues, satisfied with the distance between the two.
His words compel Yuji to shoot Nanami a look. To his surprise, Kento's behavior shows no involvement, unlike the person behind him. It's a girl with short, brown hair and the poorly masked smell of tobacco lingering on her kimono.
"Come on, Shoko. You don't have to play a spy anymore."
Yuji hadn't seen her before. No once.
It's worse than he thought. They were careful around Nanamin and the others, but how to stay wary of a person they didn't know the existence of? They thought they were getting away with everything too easily because they were indeed missing something.
"I did not mean to cause you pain, Gojo-sama," Yuji apologizes again. "The truth is that I love you." He'll apologize as many times as necessary, lie to appease him and endure whipping if they wish to punish him this way. He'd brought dishonor onto his clan.
"Don't call me that. You sound like a servant. Stand proud, dear bride."
"Please, release Itadori," Yuta says suddenly. He stands up with a pained expression and Gojo looks like he wants to kick him in the stomach to bring him to the previous position, but he doesn't. "I wish to receive a punishment for two."
"Huh! Has anyone enquired about any wishes of yours? Don't speak until spoken to." Satoru, somewhat more level-headed now, gazes at the mess they'd created. "I've failed as a husband. I couldn't protect the person I swore to guard from harm. You were lonely, isn't that right, Yuji? You couldn't wait till the wedding night, but I wasn't there."
Yuji senses that he shouldn't interrupt this monologue. Satoru waves his hand lazily at Nanami and Shoko to let them know that they can leave. Itadori drowns in stress. His mind is racing. If he gets sent back, what's going to happen to Yuta? How would he know that he's okay? Can they ever meet again? This outcome doesn't fit Satoru's previous outburst. He wouldn't let them walk free with the possibility of becoming a couple.
"I will make it up to you."
Yuji lifts his eyes with confusion. Was there an irony or sarcasm that he didn't catch?
"You'll visit my chambers every night from now on. I'll make sure that no part of your body stays untouched."
The boy's gaze flickers towards Yuta. It doesn't go unnoticed.
"Yes, he will be there too. Watching," Satoru says. "Carnal desires don't hold all that much value to me. You long for him. So be it. But if you love him.." Blue irises bore into Yuji's in meaningful silence. "If you desire his heart, not mine, I will give it to you"
Yuji blinks fast. Gojo is too close and he can't collect his thoughts. Would they be allowed to be together? "I don't understand."
"Did you mean it, when you confessed your feelings?"
"Y-yes."
"I'm afraid I can't trust you anymore, Yuji. You, I, and this little parasite are heading to my bedroom to test your truthfulness. It's up to you if he lives or dies," Satoru speaks very slowly to let Yuji process. "If, while having you under me, I notice any tears in your eyes.. is it fair of me to assume that you were lying to my face once again?"
Yuji parts his lips, but no sound comes out of him. He nods.
"Now, would it be reasonable and adequate for me to respond by carving his heart out and placing it in your hands?"
The reality of the consequences is like a bucket of cold water. Yuji feels his bottom lip quivering and begs himself not to break. They haven't started yet and he already feels like crying.