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Gojo once didn’t hate winter at all. It was the most leisurely, carefree time of the year. The household servants would prepare early the hibernation altar and deer blood; before the next spring arrived, they would dutifully guard the main estate and await their Clan Head’s awakening.
Meeting Yuji changed everything.
Having lived for over centuries, Gojo had never compromised on anything since the day he was born. But now, with the last shred of his consciousness, he struggled to keep his eyelids open. He wasn’t afraid of revealing his true form in front of mortals—there were plenty of ways to erase memories or seal their lips. But the mere thought of his beloved lover looking at him with frightened eyes made him shiver involuntarily from the cold.
Unfortunately, no matter how boundless his powers, a snake is still a snake. When winter comes, it must sleep.
“It was my own idea to go home with Yuji for the New Year…”
But why does Yuji’s family home have to be hidden so deep in the mountains?
If they were in a city full of artificial heating and greenhouses, he wouldn’t be drowsy so early in December. But in this day and age, does such an ancient mansion still exist in these remote mountains? It’s not even smaller than the Gojo ancestral estate—he had originally thought Yuji was just a kid from an ordinary family.
And on top of that, the mansion is far too empty. His meals and daily needs are well taken care of, but he hasn’t seen a single servant anywhere. It's mysterious.
His excuses for being sleepy are almost used up. Gojo sniffs and buries himself under the kotatsu. Yuji’s uncle passes by the corridor, glances sideways into the room, and gives a disdainful “Hmph” through his nose.
“Useless creature.”
It sounds like it was meant for him to hear. Gojo doesn’t want to take issue with it—not because he has a good temper, but because just staying alert enough to suppress the leakage of divine power caused by his fading consciousness is already draining all his strength. If he accidentally falls asleep and reveals his true form, that would be more than just a little trouble.
“Uraumei, pour that wine the fox brought last year for him. He looks sickly; it annoys me. I don’t want the brat moping around with a long face.”
“That’s sacred medicine, though… can a human drink it?”
“If he drinks himself dead, all the better.”
“Understood. I'll tell young master his boyfriend died of acute alcohol poisoning.”
In retrospect, Gojo did think the sake in the hinoki masu had an unusual fragrance, but not enough to make him think twice. Besides, he was at his fiancée’s family home—how could he, as a man, admit that he couldn’t hold his drink?
A faint golden light shimmered within the topaz-colored liquor, as if something living was swimming inside it. But only a single thin thread remained taut in Gojo’s mind: all his energy was focused on waiting for Yuji to return from the pharmacy. He had no room to think of anything else. He took a sip—the warm fragrance slid down, but turned into a scorching fire in his chest.
Gojo heard the sound of his highly condensed divine power breaking free from its human form.
He tried to speak, but what came out was not a human voice—only an inhuman hiss. Roof tiles scattered into the air; beams were crushed into splinters. The great white serpent kami’s true form collapsed through most of the main house. Even where its tail merely brushed across the courtyard, the ground turned to rubble.
“I knew this guy was hiding something from my brat.”
(Oh no… I’ve demolished Yuji’s family home. What do I do?)
Just as Gojo was about to apologize, he saw Yuji’s uncle standing in the wreckage. There was not a trace of human panic on that face. Instead, he looked at Gojo with a gaze mixed with scrutiny, mockery, and schadenfreude:
“You’re done for. That brat was already bitten by a snake when he was still a tiger cub. He’s going to dump you, for sure. Ha.”
//.end.